may 1989 - april 2008

I have died. Exams and final papers have killed my poor, worthless soul.

second-hand embarassment.

Political Science Professor: Smaller, inferior nation states have a few tactics at their hands to balance power against the behemoth that is the United States. We are now seeing the rise of terrorism, so it’s no coincidence that terrorism is nicknamed “The Weapon of the Weak.”

Red-Haired Idiot [raises hand]: Do you mean Weapon of the W-E-A-K or Weapon of the W-E-E-K? Because I’ve always thought you meant Weapon of the W-E-E-K and if that’s the case…it’s been used longer than a week.

Beth Washington [whispering]: Are you fucking kidding me? Oh, I said that out loud didn’t I…

Sometimes I wonder how my college is able to maintain its top rating on USNews and Princeton Review when they admit dumbasses like this in.

evil plans.

The college just sent out a campus-wide letter warning the student body - DO NOT GET THE PRE-FROSH DRUNK because drinking “is not the thing to do.” Well, of course it isn’t the only thing but in a town that proudly boasts an 8,000 member population and mountains for miles, drinking and actin’ a fool are usually the first resorts for fun.

That and streaking but I have yet to let my boobs flap in the wind. Maybe next year.

Since I opted out of hosting a pre-frosh because my dorm room floor is for towels and dirty clothes only not a stranger’s body, I won’t feel any obligation to pretend like there isn’t a big drinking culture here. I fully intend to feed alcohol to some little, unassuming 17 year old from Ohio. I will then force her to dance and/or be molested by a sex-starved jock at the toga party this Friday. Yes, I will have my fun playing puppet master and pouring water on their hungover faces the next morning.

And I will do it without having consumed a single drop of alcohol myself. I’m such a law-abiding angel, aren’t I?

class of 2012.

The pre-frosh are swarming. I wonder if I was as annoying as they are? I’m sure I wasn’t, I knew my place, but these little assholes have Pre-Frosh Complex.

Symptoms include laughing obscenely loud at a professor’s joke, obnoxiously leaning over a student to read a passage in a book that the class has almost finished, constantly raising your fucking hand, and referencing Vonnegut or Joyce as if no one has ever heard of these two “obscure” authors.

This blondie in my English class had a severe case of the Complex. She repeatedly joined into a discussion about a short story that she hadn’t read. I wanted to take her damn swivel chair and roll her out of the room. Every comment started with “Well, from what I’ve read…” Bitch, you read a paragraph! How can you glean anything from that? Obviously she couldn’t because her analysis was a bunch of verbal diarrhea.

Message to pre-frosh - all you’re supposed to do is visit a class, not participate every five minutes. No one gives a fuck if you’re intelligent so quit trying to prove it. You just look like an asshole and then no one will want to get you drunk that weekend.

Thank-you.

Dick.

One of the nicest things Ryan has ever done was invite me to Bonnaroo this summer. A friend of his family’s offered him a few tickets and he immediately asked if I wanted to go. Of course, I said yes. Alcohol, drugs, and mud? I definitely wouldn’t have missed it.

This was months ago. He knows I’m shamelessly excited about it, but I should’ve known that it’d all go to shit. Long, dumb, story short he saw his ex-girlfriend over spring break and now he’s not sure if he should give the ticket to me or her.

If his roommates weren’t standing just outside the door I would have exploded. I stormed out instead and because I’m currently riding the red wave, I cried like a little girl in my room. In true movie fashion, my friends came over with cookies and mercilessly made fun of him.

The last six weeks of school don’t look promising. It’s going to be a long time before I get laid again.