Tag Archive: MSU


Well. I’ve been sitting here for 51 minutes trying to think of something to say.

I finally came up with this:

This picture is pretty much an excellent way to sum up a night that Megan and I will never forget, and a night that Rob will never remember. Because he was blackout drunk and crawled through East Lansing trying to get home after we decided it was totally fine for him to leave by himself while we hung out with the complete strangers we found.

And by found, I mean that I flagged down some random Escalade, jumped inside and told Rob and Megan it was totally fine and to get the fuck in the car, and GO GO GO!!

Yeah. Really safe.

A complete blur. And shady as fuck.

We had been drunk for a while and looking for something to do in East Lansing after the MSU vs OSU game. (Can I just tell you how much I love game day?! SO MUCH!)  We were hanging out near Harpers when we decided that we should go to my friend’s apartment because she was having people over. We would hang out for a little bit and go to the bars later, because oh, yeah, it was still light out and too early to be as drunk as we were.

The only thing was that we needed a way to get to my friend’s apartment, which was hella far away.  Instead of calling a cab or even trying to call a friend who could drive, I just decided to flag some vehicle down. Like I’m in NYC or something, trying to hail a taxi. Who am I?

So, yeah, I flag down this white Escalade, which is filled with three or four (I can’t remember) guys.  They stopped and, for some reason, let me hop in.  For some reason, Rob and Megan followed after me and away we went to my friend’s apartment.

Talk about poor life choice. And awkward city.

Shenanigans.

Anyway, I can’t remember what happened, like the exact events of the evening. I do remember Rob, Megan and I going into my friend’s bathroom and all three of us peeing in there. At the same time. Not okay.

I also remember one of the boys changing his pants in a parking lot.

And I remember drunk-dialing my dad.

We also went to one of the bars in East Lansing for a while and danced our faces off. That was when we let Rob walk himself home despite the fact that he couldn’t see.

There’s also a memory of Megan peeing outside, in public. Twice.

We also walked all the way back to my apartment and kept Erica up until, like, 7am.  I made two of the boys watch High School Musical because I didn’t want to have sex with either of them.

The best part was that after all of the shenanigans and staying up until 8am with a strange man I had met just by jumping in his vehicle, I had to go to a staff meeting at work.  I showed up, all disheveled and loopy from a lack of sleep and super hungover.

Megan and I always reminisce on the shitshow that night turned out to be.  Generally, I just consider myself on the up and up as long as I’m not hopping in vehicles filled with strange men I don’t know.  And when I’m not pounding 100 proof shots of Captain Morgan.

We also try to embrace the whole no man left behind mentality.

Unless it’s Seneca- we usually let her go wherever she wants.

Or Leah- but that was one time, and had I been aware enough to be a part of the decision, I never would have let her wander East Lansing by herself during St. Patrick’s Day weekend. That was not my fault. And things worked out… kinda. She found her way home eventually.

Two weeks ago, I asked someone to show me how to use my financial calculator.

I bought (and when I say “I,” I mean my mom bought me) said financial calculator four years ago. For my accounting class. Which I bombed.

Maybe if I would have known how to use my calculator I wouldn’t have sucked so hard at Accounting 201 at Michigan State. Or, maybe if I went to class when I wasn’t hungover and counting down the minutes until I got to leave I would have done marginally well. Or, maybe if I wouldn’t have taken those two pulls (I have a very low tolerance for alcohol, read: I’m what one would call a “lightweight”) from a bottle of Bacardi before the final I would have passed. There were probably many factors contributing to my lack of success.

Anyway, I finally know how to use a few of the functions on this financial calculator. Good news, considering I’m taking a finance class right now.

This boy (man?) who taught me how to use my calculator was someone who has been in at least two of my other classes but to whom I have never spoken. Tonight, we conversed even more. And not about how to use my calculator.

We talked about Jersey Shore.

It just brings people together.

I kind of love that about that show. It’s appalling and terrible for society. Every time I watch it, I always just wonder, is this real life?! And it never ceases to amaze me that those people are real. Despite knowing it adds no real value to society and probably makes me dumber when I watch it, I can’t stop. I am in it. It’s like I know better but keep making poor life choices. I’m like those idiot drug addicts on Intervention who keep doing dumb shit that is bad for them. The show cracks my shit up. I laugh out loud every single time I see an episode.

It sucked me in and won’t let me go!

Another thing that sucked me in? Pretty Little Liars on ABC Family.

What the fuck is that show? Seriously.

I read the first four books and then bailed because I decided I’m not a slutty 14-year-old, and the show had already started and I figured that was good enough. But then I stopped watching the show because I was always doing something else when it was on and it was just too much work to have to keep up online.

Here’s the thing though, I watched the season premiere this January and decided I would commit myself to it. Idiot. Because now I’m still doing something else when it comes on and that means I have to catch up online, which is exactly what happened last time! So today, I thought to myself, Self, it’s okay to not catch up on Pretty Little Liars. It’s okay to bail again. Just give it up. Let it go. It’s okay.

I felt good about this decision.

Until right now, when I saw a preview for next week’s Pretty Little Liars. It made me wanna watch it real bad. So I guess that’s that. I’m gonna make that effort to watch it.

Gosh, my life is so rough.

Ps. Betcha didn’t see Pretty Little Liars coming from the talk about my financial calculator. Yeah, that’s just how my brain works.

One of my favorite parts of going out with the girls is rehashing the night’s events. I particularly enjoy the stupid conversations we have and the outrageous one-liners that make repeated appearances the morning after. For example, I have provided you with a snapshot of what the conversation was like upon our arrival to Megan’s house last night after we got home from the bar and the one-liner that never seems to get old:

Just before asking Megan to help me get her DVD player to play the Sex and The City movie, I told her to “S my D” and, to borrow from Forgetting Sarah Marshall, I told her I was going to “B my L on her T’s.”

This conversation only started the hour-long laugh-fest.

It’s not okay to talk like that. Totally inappropriate.

We only continued to speak in solitary letters, communicating pretty obscene and obscure messages.  It got pretty crazy when we had to explain to Seneca what we were saying. Her guesses were not at all correct.

“B my L on her T’s” quickly became “buzz my labia on her toes” which is obviously not at all what that means.

The laughter wouldn’t have been an issue if we hadn’t been snaking on some Doritos at 3 AM. The laughter led me to say that I needed to stop to breathe because I was “choking on some D’s” which obviously was misconstrued.

I meant Doritos, for the record.

Rather than offering friendly advice, such as DRINK SOME WATER, or refraining from speaking altogether to prevent further laughter, Seneca simply yelled at me to “Lock it up!”

To which I made the only appropriate response, mid-choke, “YOU LOCK IT UP!”

Then, for some reason, we all then pretty much passed out.

This morning, at approximately 8:30 AM, we were all awake.  When Megan came downstairs, her usually put-together ponytail was completely out of control. She looked disheveled.

I don’t think I even got in a “good morning, sunshine!” before she headed to the bathroom to fix her hair and I yelled “You look like Kid Rock” at her.

There’s rarely a morning after a night out when someone doesn’t get told they resemble Kid Rock. I’m not sure why he’s the go-to disheveled-looking name to drop nor am I sure why I think it’s so funny to tell people. For whatever reason, it gets me every time.

I understand if you don’t find these interactions as funny as I do, but today, every time  I have thought of what a crazy night last night was, I laugh.

I laugh when I think about how we danced with Willy the Can Man (kind of against our will). How Megan shouted “Embrace your inner Whale” as we ran around East Lansing with no coats on in the snow. How Leah repeatedly still tries to get me to “get on the ride” despite the fact I decline every time to hop on her back for a piggyback ride. How Ashley ripped a large, decorative candy cane off the wall and danced on the stage with it.

I do not care for Toby Keith, but he’s right about one thing: There’s not a lot I regret, Night’s I can’t remember, Friend’s I’ll never forget…

It was never really a mystery to us why it seemed like our entire floor in the dorms in college hated us.

Sarah and I lived in the room at the very end of the hallway. Our perfect square of a room was the gathering place every Thursday night to watch The OC and later Grey’s Anatomy. Our room was the meeting place of the whole group of us for those three or four nights a week we went out to parties. And later, our sophomore year of college, our room was next door to two of our good friends, whose room would blare with the latest Justin Timberlake song or One Republic’s “Apologize” before it was cool and overplayed on the radio.

We did dumb shit, like dress up like the some cracked out version of the Spice Girls and sing really, really loudly after 2 in the morning. You know, when the whiners on our floor were sleeping, and had been since 11 pm.

As a group, we’re loud. I mean, I scream and screech a lot, I laugh loudly, and I shout when I’m happy or excited. Multiply that by at least four and you’ve got my core group of friends in college. And we were together constantly.

Add in the fact that we lived in an all-girls dorm. In the really, really old dorms. As in, I lived in the same dormitory my grandmother lived in. The same dormitory my mother lived in. It’s old. We also lived in the dorm mostly populated by the college of music kids. They’re all artsy and hipster-y and obviously too smart and better than us to get loud and crazy all the fucking time, like we did. The best part about our dorm is that it was the closet to the street with all the bars on it. And it was relatively close to a lot of the off-campus housing and greek life. (And let’s get real: I loved me some fraternity parties before I was of the legal drinking age.)

I think this photo adequately demonstrates the potential Le Le and I have when it comes to getting crazy. lolz (Ps. Le, does that headband look familiar? bahaha)

My point is, our floor hated us.

We were constantly hushed and asked nicely to be quiet. And when all else failed, we were told on. When we realized that the RA’s were about to come bust us, we’d quickly finish the shot glass full of five o’clock vodka on Leah’s or my desk, turn the music off, grab our coats and fly out the door.

I mean, we didn’t want to get written up. Again. Or have to pour our alcohol down the bathroom sink. Again.

Even when we weren’t drinking (illegally) in the dorms, we were loud. And probably really, really obnoxious. I’ll leave you with this one memory I have, a memory that really reinforced the fact that everyone on our floor just did not get me, or my friends.

You know how in college dorms there are all kinds of random-ass signs for random-ass shit? Like, sign up for ballroom dancing in one of the rooms by the cafeteria, or do you need a tutor for some really hard singing class you’re taking? Well, I can’t remember why we decided to make a sign but one night we did, and we hung it on the walls all over our hallway, and all of the doors to the bathrooms, and the mirrors, and the door to the stairs.

It was a nice sign. It didn’t ask anyone to donate their first born to some demonic cult or require anyone to spend any money on anything. It was just a nice little sign to remind people to have a good day and to provide a little pick-me-up. Sometimes people just need that. Classes are hard. It’s really hard to walk fifty feet to a building across a nice little field to go sing for a couple hours a day. And it gets cold in Michigan.  And sometimes blowing off class on a Friday to play Ultimate Frisbee in Adam’s Field is just really… hard. So we posted our sign to let people know we cared.

Our sign was not appreciated. When we woke up the next morning, every single sign had been torn down and thrown away.

The people on our floor were dicks. And they hated us.

While we were in Philadelphia this weekend, I was reminded of something I love.

Something I simply cannot get enough of.

Something I wish I could constantly have in my life.

Something that just doesn’t get old.

Rob, a friend from college who now is all fancy and lives in New York City, met up with Erica and I in Philadelphia. He is the reason I am going through withdrawal. On two counts. Rude.

Robby & I after graduation! Go Green!

First of all, I hate him for making me love him and then leaving to go live a fancy life so far away.

Second, I hate him for reminding me of my love of Play by Givenchy and Justin Timberlake. It’s like THE BEST SMELL EVER. For men.

Robby wears Play. And I smelled him last weekend and fell in love all over again. (With him. And with Play.)

I remember clear as day the first time I smelled it. I shit you not. It’s, like, locked in my memory. I was flipping through Cosmo like MONTHS ago.

(Side note: I would just like to say that yes, I do subscribe to Cosmo. But it should also be noted that Drew usually got to it before I did. And sometimes Sully. Yes, Drew, you can be embarrassed that I announced it on my blog. Because the viewership has increased since I started it in June. And your secrets just keep spilling out of me. LAHV YEW!! That totally just reminded me of Mean Girls . You know, the part where all the girls are in the gym doing trust falls? And Karen apologizes to Gretchen for laughing at her for the time she got diarrhea at Barnes & Noble, and that she was sorry for repeating the story in front of everyone right then. Omg. That movie is genius. I love you, Tina Fey.)

Anyway.

Gosh, my ADD really needs to chill out.

Okay. I was “reading” Cosmo and all of a sudden it was like BAM!! HELLO BEST SMELL EVER!!! So you can bet your bottom dollar that I ripped open that tiny little flap of paper to sniff the tester page of this fragrance.  And when I looked to see what it was that I had pressed against my face, I saw Justin Timberlake. DOUBLE WIN!

LOOK AT HIM. HOT. AS. HELL.

This stuff is like catnip to me.

I smell it and just… want to breathe more than normal.

I cannot describe to you what it smells like, nor can I explain to you the degree to which I love this smell. It’s just amazing. And if I smelled it in real life, I would probably be embarrassed by my response to it.

It’s that good.

And every time Rob would walk by after he put it on, I just followed behind him sniffing the air he left.

Cannot. Get. Enough.

So, pretty much, I’m obsessed again.

Thanks a lot, Rob. Oh, and you too, Justin Timberlake. You just had to go ahead and render me completely out of my mind at the smell of the sexiest man-smell ever.

Oh, I doubt I need to make this disclaimer but, um, I haven’t been compensated in any way to plug this product. It just smells really, really good. And when I was cleaning up my closet and saw all of my perfumes, I thought of the one smell I wished I could smell at any given moment.

I need a boyfriend. So he can wear this. And I can behave like a cat that was recently given catnip. Or something??

Cats are funny.

lolz

 

While we were in Philadelphia this weekend, I was reminded of something I love.

Something I simply cannot get enough of.

Something I wish I could constantly have in my life.

Something that just doesn’t get old.

Rob, a friend from college who now is all fancy and lives in New York City, met up with Erica and I in Philadelphia. He is the reason I am going through withdrawal. On two counts. Rude.

1.) The only reason I enjoyed this Sunday is because I know I don’t have to be at work tomorrow because of Columbus Day. Love Love Love.

2.) You know how in Jersey Shore the boys sing “T shirt tiiiiiiiiiime!  T shirt tiiiiiiiime!” over and over before they go out and while they wear the “shirt before the shirt”?? Well, I love that they do that. It cracks me up. And last night before we went out, Megan and I sang “T shirt tiiiiiiiiime!” and it was awesome. We didn’t change our clothes for the song or anything but it was cool anyway.

3.) I was supremely hungover today.

4.) MSU beat U of M yesterday. I’m not a huge sports fan, as you know, but I really, really love the rivalry between the two schools, and it just feels really good to know that my school is better than that other school for another year.  I actually did watch the second half of the game, though, so I felt like I participated in the win.  I took a nap during the first half. It was a good one.

5.) I went to a hockey game with my friends from work on Friday. I know I have talked about this before, but I’m gonna say it again because it’s still definitely true. Yes, hockey is hot. It is. But I just can’t get past the violence. It’s so violent. And the refs just allow the fighting. I can’t understand that! If that was my honey out there, I wouldn’t be able to watch. How does Carrie Underwood do it?! And then at one of the breaks between periods (yeah, I know there are three periods in a hockey game), there was this hockey team made up of little kids. They were so precious. And I got worried and a little upset because someday if I have babies I just don’t think I could watch my little one play hockey. I would cry the whole time and be like DON’T HURT MY BABY!!! I’m such a pansy. The hockey game really made me want to watch the Mighty Ducks trilogy.

6.) My class ends this week. I am SO excited for this class to be over. This has been the most frustrating class of my MBA program and it’s deeply upsetting. I had a meltdown a couple weeks ago about it. I just can’t get an A in this class to save my life. It really, really bothers me!

7.) Speaking of my class ending, that means I have a week of no classes before the next session starts. During that week, I will be on vacation. Starting this Friday after work, I will have an entire week of vacation. I’m not going anywhere, so it’s a stay-cation but I’m still really excited. I have so much to do! I need to get a haircut, finalize my Halloween costume, and help Mom move to the new house! Busy, busy, busy!!

8.) I am watching How I Met Your Mother again. Season 3 this time. I just finished the episode where Barney and Robin sleep together. Ted got really mad but I totally dig the idea of Barney and Robin together. I have trouble reminding myself that tv shows aren’t real life and that those people don’t actually exist.

Here are a few new-founded obsessions:

1.) 30 Rock— I requested season one from the library after I watched the Emmys. They didn’t win a bunch of shit this year like they’ve won in years past but I decided I needed to hop on the bandwagon anyway. With my requesting of 30 Rock, I requested season one of United States of Tara, Mad Men and something else. I can’t remember. I really, really love 30 Rock.  I sit by myself and watch it and just giggle. I love all of the guest stars. And how outrageous all of it is. Not to mention my girl crush on Tina Fey. And I really just love Alec Baldwin. I never thought I’d say that, but I just really do.

2.) Katy Perry— I finally bought Teenage Dream. I requested it from the library and was like 7,542 of 7,856,4895,156. I was going to have to wait forever to get it. So, I finally broke down and bought the album.  I couldn’t stand not owning it. I love it so much. I love every song.  It’s amazing. She’s gorgeous, and I love the video of Teenage Dream. Her giant eyes are amazing.  I love all of it.

3.) College Football Season— I just love it for tailgate season. Make your own judgments about me.

4.) Llamas— Yes, this is an ongoing obsession but I didn’t want the list to only be three things.  My mom and I went to Llama Fest at  MSU today. Every Labor Day Weekend, Llama Fest visits the MSU Pavilion. It’s awesome. It reeks like farm animals and I dry heave the second we walk inside, but the creepy giant eyes on those majestic, twitchy creatures are magnificent.  Llamas (and alpacas) make this little humming noise. I don’t know what it means but my mom and I went up to every llama pen and started humming at them. Some looked scary so we walked away quickly but other times the llamas came close and hummed back. I want a llama.

Enjoy your holiday weekend, everyone!!!

So, I think I mentioned this before but my mom is building a house. Well, obviously she is not the one doing the hard labor and constructing a dwelling deemed livable. There’s just no way that could actually happen. But you know what I mean.

Because of this new house, my mom is basically a basketcase and walks around life like a ninny. (I really wanted to use that word!) She has been trying to get her house “ready to put on the market” which means making repairs and throwing all of our random shit away.

None of this would really be worthy of telling you about except it is now encroaching on my life. I have been told that I must pack up all of my childhood books and the rest of the crap in my bedroom that I haven’t taken with me anywhere. Okay, fine. I can do that. But the repairs?  At least give a girl some warning!

After a night out terrorizing East Lansing with a couple of my best gals, I awoke this morning at 6:50 am (ish) to hear my mother fluttering around the kitchen and down the hall as her heels clicked against the hardwood floor. I immediately rolled back over and continued right on sleeping. Much too early to be awake. THEN, a text woke me up (thanks a lot, Nikki- lol just kidding! love you!) around 9:30 am or something. I deemed this a suitable time to rise. So after texting back and forth a for a while, apologizing to a couple people I happened to inappropriately drunk-text, and deciding I needed to watch an episode of Dawson’s Creek, I heard someone walkin’ around downstairs. I assumed it was my mom. (I have this joke with her lately that she just never goes to work anymore- but it’s totally a joke. She does go to work. And she loves her job. FYI. hahaha)

So, because I assumed it was my mom, I got out of bed, opened my door and took a first few tentative steps out into the loft before saying something snarky to Tam (my mom) about how she’s a slacker and never goes to work.

Oh. It totally wasn’t my mom. Whoever it was totally heard me get up and was like, “HELLO!?!”

Uhm. That’s a man-voice. WTF?!

Uhm. Hello?

WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE SAID?! (Maybe I should have gone with something like “WHO DERE?!” bahahaha at least I crack myself up…)

“I’m John,” said the odd man in my home.

Suddenly, I was thankful I put pants on. I almost didn’t!

Uuuuuum, I’m Katie?

“I’m just putting up some drywall here for your mother?”

This is when I just retreated towards my room. I would hide until he was gone. My hair was huge and completely weird shaped. The X drawn on my hand in permanent marker from the bar last night was probably now transferred to my cheek. I didn’t need to know what this man looked like or what he was doing. Just. Go. Away. But he sounded busy, so I figured I’d wait it out.

Oh. Okay.

I hightailed it back to my room, closed the door, took my pants back off, and crawled back into bed. I texted my mom “it’s not awkward at all with this random man in my house or anything…” but she didn’t care enough about me to text me back.

It seemed like I was waiting forever. After an episode of Dawson’s Creek that I pretty much slept through, I decided I couldn’t live like a prisoner in my own home anymore. So I grabbed my clothes and tip-toed to the bathroom. After showering and getting dressed, I got the f outta there and ran my very-important errands. Yeah, right. I basically invented a reason to gtfo of my house for at least an hour.

HE WAS STILL THERE WHEN I GOT BACK. AND HE LOOKS LIKE SANTA CLAUS.

AND HE CONVERSED WITH ME AS IF OUR AWKWARD INTRODUCTION NEVER TOOK PLACE.

meredith grey knows what's up

So, I went right along with it. I pretended this morning never happened, just like the annoying thing that happened last night. And the awkward thing that happened yesterday after work.  If Santa can handle avoidance behavior, then I’m just gonna continue living my life “under a banner of avoidance.” Really, this just instills in me the idea that being “dark and twisty” and an avoider is okay. This all just really reinforces my belief that if I’m any one character from Grey’s Anatomy, it is indeed Meredith. And if you watch that show, she’s not exactly… stable. But whatever, she gets help and becomes bright and shiny. Maybe someday I’ll be bright and shiny Meredith too. Change does happen, you know. I used to be very Cristina, but as I just told you, I’m not so much anymore.

This got very off-topic. Where was I?

Oh yes. Santa. (Sidenote:  As I was writing Santa, I almost wrote Satan. Interesting.)

Santa Claus just continued on merrily, putting up drywall or something. And then he finally left, but not before asking me if it was okay to leave his ladder here since he would be returning at 9 am tomorrow morning.

I can’t wait. Maybe I’ll ask him for a pony tomorrow. Or maybe not since horses freak me out.

Oh, I know. I’ll ask him for a boyfriend an *NSYNC reunion tour! Ooh, or for Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears to bury the hatchet and get their love-fest back on. Or for Mel Gibson to not be so terrible and make him go away. (I could do this forever.)

I should be required to wear some sort of sign that notifies people at movie theaters that I’m obnoxious.

Something neon and very noticeable: I’M A TALKER! I DON’T KNOW HOW TO WHISPER! I GIGGLE A LOT! I CLAP WHEN I’M HAPPY! I CAN’T SIT STILL!! I SCREAM WHEN I’M SCARED/SURPRISED! I COVER MY EARS AND SHOUT WHEN THERE’S A LOT OF VIOLENCE OR LOUD NOISES!

It should flash different phrases that apply to my behavior, just to get it all out in the open.

What is interesting is the fact that not once have I ever been told I’m being obnoxious at a movie theater. Never.

Even more interesting, I have experienced hypocrisy  at its finest. I ratted out a couple of 12-year-olds last year at The Hannah Montana Movie when Erica and I went to see it in theaters. Bahaha! I was so PO’d that they were being loud and talking the whole way through the movie that I actually got up out of my seat, went and found the customer service people and told them that two pre-teen girls were being obnoxious and ruining my Hannah Montana experience.

The girls got their parents called and I got two free tickets to any movie I wanted. Win.

I am also that person in the movie theater that constantly asks the questions, OMG WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!  WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN?!

Last night when Megan and I went and saw that New Tom Cruise Movie (I hate him), I kept asking. Megan now just responds, “I think we’ll find out later.”

Then I covered my ears and eyes and hit her leg a lot. THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS, I “whispered.”

Too bad, fellow movie-goers. You can’t make me sit with my feet on the ground- I will move if you sit right in front of me. (Or, if you’re the MSU football team sitting in front of me when I saw Pineapple Express in theaters, I will heckle you and still keep my feet on your chair because there was nowhere else to go.) You can’t make me stop fidgeting. I wiggle a lot. You can’t make me stop talking; I have a lot of thoughts. I have a lot of feelings. I just gotta share!  I cry too often and I laugh too loudly.  I like watching movies my way. It’s better than waiting until the end to get it all out.

Live in the moment! Carpe Diem! Seize the day!

We saw High School Musical 3 at midnight. I was reading Eclipse with my fleece blanket. Our gestures were totally appropriate and we were mature adults.

I sometimes think that maybe I shouldn’t allowed out in public or around children. Too bad for society. I’m still at large, ruining movies and corrupting the youth of America one inappropriate gesture and curse word at a time.