So I went to a frat party last night. I know, I know. Aren't those things dangerous? Actually no. It was rather boring. We got there at about 11, seeing as we appear to be the type of girls who get there first and leave first, thus missing all the 'fun'. So we calculated our entrance time so as to not get bored. If the party started at 10, and we got there at 11, we'd have enough time to see if we liked it, and if we didn't skip out. Can someone tell we were trying a bit to hard?
I was wearing something entirely out of my style. Although this party was themed 'Jungle Jam', I would have been much more comfortable in some black capris and a tank top. But no, I figured it was easier to be over dressed than under dressed. And let me tell you, I was a tid bit over dressed. Not in that I was wearing something to fancy (although I don't full heartily believe that animal print can be fancy). I wasn't to done up, and didn't put in to much effort. I just wasn't showing enough skin by the standards of the other girls there. The other barrier between me and said girls, was that I wasn't smashed out of my face. I've never heard the the words "youree-gonna-thenk-im-drunk"used so many times. (I should probably say the word, seeing as that's how it came out, as one word, not 5.) And I've never seen so many trees used as walking canes.
Back to the party. We walked there and arrived right on schedule, a sign that looked like it was written by my first grade self was hung up announcing we were in the right spot. I got scrutinized by the security guard about weather I was storing anything in my bra. I kindly told her that I don't do that up in there.
There was a band playing until 12, and a DJ starting up inside once they were done. Picture: tiny frat house, maybe 350 people outside on the lawn, drinking red bull, water, and eating pizza. Some people got a little handsy as they loitered by, but nothing that a techy death look couldn't shoo off. Then as soon as midnight hit, like cinderella, it was suddenly as if everyone would turn to pumpkins if they stayed outside with out music. So now, we've got ourselves a predicament. Whereas previously all 350 of us felt like fish swimming in a pack while outside, we've suddenly been caught, and canned and turned in to tunafish, as close as possible inside.
This wouldn't have been that bad, if not for 2 reasons. A. People were freaking sweaty. You can't pack that many people in to a little space and not have some sort of condensation. It got to the point where I wasn't sure if I was sweating or if it was the boy behind me. (probability is it was me, seeing as I sweat quite profusely) B. The math didn't add up. Mr. Wolff taught me enough for me to know that 200 people divided by 100 square feet was 2 people per square foot. And when Mr. I'm-not-confident-enough-not-to-drink-and-still-get-girls had his legs spread as wide as possible to erm... gyrate... with mrs. I'm-not-confident-enough-not-to-drink-and-still-get-guys it gets a little tight.
But alas. It's college, right? People are supposed to do stuff like that, come on Will, haven't you seen the movies? I have. But trust me, actual college, and those movies are so different, it's like night and day.
For example. In this weeks episode of "Willie Goes to College" I would have walked in, awkwardly, but still looking like a goddess from some african jungle. I'd have gotten a glare from the head cheerleader, because her boyfriend, the water polo captain, was looking at me. (This is completely wrong. In real life the head cheerleader is a really nice girl, and I don't even know said attractive water polo captain.)
Conversation would have then proceeded like so.
Friend 1: That guy is totally looking at you.
Willie turns to look at him but is stopped by friend 2.
Friend 2: Are you crazy don't look! He'll know you're in to him. It's that water polo captain.
Friend 1: You're so oblivious Willie, but so pretty.
Willie smiles politely, and suddenly locks eyes with tall cute blond water polo man.
Sound cue romantic music and light cue soft orange light.
Conversation actually went like this:
Friend 1: How much do you think she had to drink?
Friend 2: A bit to much.
Willie: I'm not sure, but watch out for that brown spot, I think it's a bodily fluid.
As you can see, the glamour was lost somewhere between here and hollywood.
Anyways. That's my first real story from college. I'm having a hard time of writing much of anything really. It's like my stories don't really have a finite ending right now. Like everything is fitting together in this massive sense, and it's all one big story, instead of little individual ones. But my creative ideas aren't stopping, it's just once I get the first half of them done, I can't figure out the second half. Maybe I'm living a metaphor for my own life? Not sure.
So. I'm going to try to write when I feel like I need an outlet. And that's what I'm feeling now.
Stay amazing people reading this.
<3 W
(P.s. I really miss all of you. So so so much. It's not even funny.)
