That Girl

Oh lawrdy......the only person you didn't want to be in college was "That Girl."  "That Girl" did a lot of things that most girls didn't: peed in chairs in frat houses, pooped in boys' beds in summer sublets, fell down steep stairs at work while drunk and holding a cocktail tray full of drinks while wearing a mini skirt and no underwear, had a threesome with 2 sexually repressed metrosexuals during a summer long coke binge, showed up places uninvited crying about a broken heart and a seriously itchy and unsightly STD.

Now, surprisingly, none of the above apply to me.  They are just things I was fortunate to witness during college that made me feel better about being this girl and not "That Girl."

That is not to say that this girl didn't: pee her own bed once after drinking 2/3 of a bottle of Jose Cuervo on a very quiet weekend in the dorms when everyone else went on frat and sorority walkouts freshman year, puke on the regular after drinking Long Island Iced Teas that cost 75 cents, yell at innocent strangers for things they NEVER (accusing them of calling me fat was a big one) said, pass out while making out (I think we kissed) with a sociopathic politician which caused him to rob my home afterwards because his blue balls simply made him insane, lose my underwear at a bar regular's house and then see him at happy hour when I was working the next day...MORTIFYING, throw up on a friend's stereo and then accuse her of doing it, wake up nude next to a bottle of rum, a beer can, 2 Dave Matthews CDs, a bong and my alarm going off for 5 hours and then went outside to realize that my car had been stolen by the very man that would leave me in such a horrific condition, make out with a 40 year old bartender who still lived in a college town (and recently hid from me) and 2 of my friends while listening to a Styx record....like a record, I do not think he could afford a CD player, jump in the pool with all of my clothes on after being inspired by my best friend who already had jumped in holding a Louis Vuitton clutch, take topless photos with my friends all on one couch while wearing costumes after being amped up by the song "It's Getting Hot in Herre" by Nelly, pass out when the only boy in college who wanted to be my actual boyfriend, but didn't even go to my college, came into town after we went out on our first date because I drank 6 beers before the date because I was nervous and then drank an entire bottle of wine during it and then a few weeks later, I had the nerve to get so drunk at his sister's wedding (WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!) that I couldn't remember even getting up to the room after the wedding, but I was told I took a nap in a chair during it......and how can we forget when I rubbed baby oil all over a very handsome boy (who sadly got the absolute shit kicked out of him and had to leave college he was so injured) on my living room rug and then slid around with him like 2 well oiled pigs until the sun came up.

I mean how is this better than the "That Girl" actions? It isn't.  Hypocrite city here.  And this, all this, is just the tip of the iceberg.  It is only the fried chicken of Old Country Buffet's spread. A nibble really in the hilarity and utter pathetic nature of my college experience, even though I wouldn't change a thing and I am so glad I am still here to tell you about it....

I was this girl to me, but so "That Girl" to everyone else.....and I didn't even know it.

One day, when this blog gets more than 2 views per day and someone actually comments, I do hope we can discuss some of the "That Girl" or "That Guy" stuff you all might have done.  Please feel free to share even if you don't read this until 2014.