The Napkin Diaries

Today I have Senioritis.

For those of you unaware of the symptoms of Senioritis, it goes something like this:

I don’t feel like doing shit.

Senioritis didn’t really hit me too hard in high school, mostly because I was just a teenager with a hellacious schedule of cheerleading, boys, and homework. Not necessarily in that order. It was demanding, let me tell you. It wasn’t until college that my Senioritis became more prominent. My prior schedule, now had new priorities: DRINKING, boys, and homework. Totally in that order. It was demanding, let me tell you. Let me also tell you that I really really enjoyed 2/3 of my schedule. Mmmmm, college…

I started seriously utilizing my maximum number of absences allowed per class during my senior year. And I would conveniently schedule them in a row. And there was no pre-requisites for taking these days off. Usually I’d wake up and be like “Oh today is totally a Personal Day,” (i.e. I ain’t doin’ SHIT). Well, sometimes the pre-req was that I drank the day/night before or was planning to drink during said Personal Day and therefore needed ample time to recover and/or prepare.

So, I have Senioritis today. But why? You ask. Because I don’t want to do anything. I don't care that I haven't been an undergrad in 4 years. I have Senioritis today, damnit.

I want to sit in a grungy apartment with my favorite people and fart around and do nothing but stir up trouble, or play Nintendo, or wear my crab pants (they totally have little crabs on them and I wore them all the time in college. I mean, they were pajama shorts, but I still wore them to take out the trash, and to hit on boys ( this one time I was totally wearing them with a trucker hat cocked to the side at 3 in the morning when I met this guy-turned-boyfriend as he busted all up in my girls’ apartment when I was partying in Columbia). Where the hell was I going with this??)

::wanders off aimlessly::

Dave and I were in Clemson this past weekend to celebrate Joe's 24th birthday! Yay, happy birthday, Joe. We hung out Thursday night, drank a lot of beer, ordered pizza at 2:00 am and then Joe and I were the only one's left standinng at 4:00 am talking about everything from baby names to tanning beds. Dave crapped out sometime after the moonshine shot, which caused Dave to forget his childhood. He took the shot and immediately said, blank faced, "Now I can't remember my childhood."
Friday we ate Esso lunch - ohmygah I forgot how much I loved the 9000 calorie country fried steak meal. Mmmm. I want one right now. Then we started drinking. Ha. We grilled out that night... still drinking... and then went back to Joe's to drink more. There were 11 of us there, 10 of us were drinking. Poor Dave was suffering from reflux/heartburn/Thursday night, so he couldn't play. We started to play card games, but realized quickly that there were too many people, not enough table space, and definitely not enough attention span to play anything with cards. Enter: Michael the Genius. Michael is like "I know! Let's all have a number, 2-11, when your number is rolled, you drink." We ended up coming up with a whole list of rules and even a name... and so is born Death Dice Twice.

Rules:
1. Everyone gets a number (in a clockwise circle)
2. When your number is rolled, you drink
3. If you roll doubles, you roll again
4. If you roll doubles twice, you have to roll the Death Dice -- this is the 3rd die that is brought into the game, and whatever number you roll, you drink that number
5. 12 is social
6. If you roll sloppy dice, you drink. (Sloppy dice means that one or both die have rolled off the table.)
7. If you roll your own number, you drink and roll again
8. if you roll your own number twice, you finish your beer. (As Candle says though, "I can't do that! I have acid reflux!" We still made her drink it. Ha, sorry girl.)
9. Go through 3 rounds of Death Dice, the person who drank the most amount of times will then start off as #2.
10. Start Death Dice all over until everyone is wasted and incapable of drinking more beer.

Michael, you should seriously patent this game and go make us millions. Genius. In the midst of the weekend, I constructed a beer box hat. It's pretty flashy. It also causes Shawn to sweat profusely. He claimed it didn't breathe well, it probably didn't. But it was really funny to sit next to him on the couch and watch him wipe the sweat off his forehead. He finally had to give up and give the beer box hat back to Michael. Ha. Good weekend. Thanks for the Clemson fun. I miss you guys.

This weekend was Homecoming for those Clemson Tigers. That's a good enough reason to get waaaasted if you ask any of us. We partied our asses off from 11 pm Friday until aprroximately 3 am Sunday morning. Friday night was the normal drunk scene at the 102. Only this time, we had Catherine with us! Yessss. I came bearing gifts, too. I brought Catherine a bottle of Jack as a late birthday present and I also brought Joe a Halloween card. Please let me tell you about this card. Okay, I was in Target, and I see this black and white card with skulls and crossbones all over it -- and they are very real looking. It's all creepy and shit, so I picked it up, assuming there would be something catchy about how you should have a bad to the bone Halloween or something of the sort. No, Not even fucking close. I open it up to find this printed inside: Always follow your heart." WTF. I cracked up in the middle of Target all by myself and immediately ran to the register to purchase the most ridiculous greeting card ever made. Its now slapped onto the fridge at Joe's apartment and will most likey never come off. Seriously, what the fuck does that mean. The only other unusal thing that happened was that there was a dance party... with all the guys. Really, Joe, Michael, Dave and Shawn all danced. The girls just sat there. It was really funny and as soon as Joe sends me the pictures, I'm going to post them and blackmail the piss out of all of you. Yay, can't wait.
So we woke up and were at the tailgate by 10:30. Beers cracked by 10:31. Woot. This time we did it right: we brought the motherfucking couch. Oh yes. The grungy ass, disease-ridden ,lame excuse for a seating unit, used to be white but is now a dirty tan color couch from the 102 F. And we stuck it right in between the jeep and the truck. Genius. Effing genius. It did however turn into quite the accident causer when both Jayson and Opie did back flip-like maneuvers over it and tried to land gracefully, but usually just ended up on their asses over in the woods.
So as soon as everything was unpacked, funny shit started happening, so Joe threw a pen a pad of paper at me and said "go" So I compiled a list, appropriately entitled "Funny Shit" as the day progressed. It turned out to be one and a half pages long. I will now write everything that was written on the "Funny Shit" list and attempt to give an explanation... Okay.go:

Candle: "It will go up your butt if you let it!" Explaining how the yellow jackets (not the team, but the actual creature) are infact, crazy ass mother fuckers and will attack you, at all costs, if presented with the opportunity.

Brandy: "I'm Brandy! Like the motherfucking drink." Because sometimes people think her name is Randy.

Nicole: "Is my tag sticking out?
Dave: "Everything's sticking out, baby." I asked if my underwear tag was visible... Dave informed me that yes, my tag, along with most of my entire ass/crack was also in plain view.

Nicole: "I want someone to find my blog and read it and then they will want to publish it."
Brandy: "What? You want someone to find your blog and then they will want to pop your shit?"

Catherine: "I'm fucking infallible. What am I, the pope?" She invented the 'Catherine Surprise,' which is when you shove a wad of cotton candy in your mouth, then allow her to drown you in champagne, then you swallow it all while trying not to gag or laugh or wretch. Yes, wretch. All the while, half her ass is about to fall out of her pants, she has Joe's enormous sunglasses on, and her hair, is well, everywhere.

Catherine: "Thank God, I bought fucking cotton candy."

Candle: "I don't even care, put your finger there!" Telling me how its okay if I shove my finger into her drink so it doesn't fizz over.

Joe: My thinking parts are mad at my drinking parts."

Joe: "Nic, where'd you go?"
Nicole: "I don't know. I'm invis.....dable." Yes, there was a dramatic pause before I finished the word. Incorrectly, at that.

Nicole: "Oh! We're playing spin the bottle?"
Candle: "No! I don't do that! I could get meningitis." All day, Candle thought she was going to get meningitis... from her cup, the pine needles, the champagne bottle that everyone was drooling all over, etc.

Joe: "Are you drunk or retarded?"

Brandy: "Jayson! I can see all of your cards!"
Jayson: "I don't know what that means, but I'll see you later." Jayson's credit cards, and every other imaginable were spilling out of the hole he created in his back pocket. Brandy tried to warn him. Jayson took this as innuendo.

Joe: "It smells like January and Valtrex." I refuse to explain this any further.

Joe: "Oh, we've all seen the Cononie Coin Slot..." Yes, that's my ass. for those of your who are dumb.

Nicole: "I need some water."
Dave: "Why don't you just drink that?"
Nicole: "No. That's too watered down." I wanted regular water. Dave offered me the remains of his coke from Hardees. It was too watered down. Damnit.

Jayson: "You know when you're sober and you can't see and you're just like, ' Cool, I can't see,' and you squint to fix it? Well yeah, you can't do that when you're drunk."

So, those are the Funny Shit quotes that I promised. I would now like to mention some more funny shit that happened that did not require words:

1. Candle played "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson and nominated herself to impersonate the Michael Jackson "spin-and-grab-your-crotch" move. She did this eight successful times. On the ninth try (why she tried any more than once is a mystery) she completely fell over backwards and busted her ass. Catherine came immediately to the rescue and shoved the champagne bottle at Candle's crotch. Candle latched onto the bottle and began thrusting again. All was saved.
Side note: Candle walked around most of the day with some object turned phallic in her crotch. She has come to terms with the fact that she has a serious case of penis envy and has chosen to celebrate this Candle-like feature.
2. The beer boxes were turned into sleds. Pretty much everyone except for me and Dave took a running, flying leap at the teeny piece of cardboard in front of them and barrelled down the little pine needle hill until the had to bail out when the hill turned into fucking pavement.
3. Catherine screwed up somehow and just laid on her back in the pine needles. We took this as an invitation to burry her in them. It was like burrying someone in sand, but instead with pine needles.
4. Candle got doo-doo on her knee. She attempted to brush it off. She now probably has meningitis.
5. A dance party happened at approximately 3:00 pm.
6. Joe had a phenominal idea. See, the couch is amazing, but seriously, its time for the bitch to die. It was decided that at the last tailgate of the year, we are simply going to regift the couch and stick it in the back of someone else's fucking truck. One of two reactions will occur, (a) they will be ecstatic that they have a newfound piece of tailgate furniture, (b) they will be so fucking pissed that some assholes put their piece of shit couch in the back of their awesome truck.
7. Joe explained that without Nic, he Nic and Joe show is just like Wayne and ___. Without Garth, it's just not Waynesworld.

So basically, this was the BEST.TAILGATE.EVER. Seriously, who brings a couch, concocts a drink that consists of cotton candy and champagne, turns beer boxes into sleds, does Michael Jackson skits, drinks 3 coolers of beer all in one day and actually lives to tell about? We are motherfucking rockstars. And we won, bitches.

PS: What song did we all agree to put on our pages so we can be gay together? I actually think I was too drunk at that point and since I didn't write it down, I can't produce a memory. Shit. You tell me. Now.

This past weekend Dave and I traveled (one hellacious journey, at that) to Clemson to see our favorites. We figured we could make a mini-engagement party out of it. Driving was a bitch. Seriously, why can't people get out of the passing lane when they are not passing? And why would you get into the passing lane when you can obviously see a truck coming at you doing about 90? Idiots. So needless to say, we were pissed by the time we got to the 102. It immediately got better, though -- like really, before we could park, Shawn was hugging Dave through the window and Erin was pretty much in my lap. Joe and Michael were screaming from the balcony. And I think Candle had her drink up in the air "woooing" at us. Damn, we have awesome friends.
So we proceed to drink some Evan and Cheerwine. Yes, it is actually a delicious combination. Who knew? Well, I guess Joe did since he made all of my drinkies for me. I think we were all drunker than we thought because the following things occurred, and I'm not certain of the order of the debachery:

1. Joe and I stood on the furniture and sang/screamed Toxic. We tried to pretend like we were at Karaoke Tuesday. Not quite the same. But at least it was the Nic and Joe show and not the __ and Joe show... as Joe put it when he attempted to perform without me one disasterous Tuesday night. Aww. I miss Ed Miller.
2. Someone decided that throwing poker chips into the ceiling fan was the best idea, like ever. So we started with the poker chips. Then we added a deck of cards. Then Joe's shoe. And then the tailgate chairs. Most everyone got something lobbed at their face. Thankfully we were all slightly numb from the "alcool" (as the Engrish ppt show depicted. I think only Joe and Catherine will understand that... but it's still funny and I'm not taking it out.)
3. Joe then thought it would be awesome to use his tongue, yes tongue, to stop the dusty ass fan blades. Apparently Joe's nose is longer than his tongue, though, because it was his nose that stopped the fan instead. Really, Joe, what the fuck were you thinking? I mean, it was funny as hell, so you do what you want.
4. Michael and I busted out the Cononie Shake. It was glorious.
5. Dave and I busted out the "River Runs Through It" dance. We need a better name for it... any suggestions? Jayson told us the next day that sometimes he's not sure if he should watch when we do that.
6. Joe gave Corey a shoe wedgy. And was eerily proud of this.
7. Michael, Joe and I ate cheese with some eggs and sausage underneath it. Best drunk breakfast ever. And sorry Dave, for using your head as my table... I guess you shouldn't fall asleep in my lap right before feeding time.
8. I had a back popping session with Shawn the chiropractor. I can stand up straight again. Thanks, Shawn.

More funny stuff probably happened. But I got drunk. It happens.
We tailgated all day Saturday. We were in Ingles at like 10:15 buying loads of beer and hamburgers. It was pretty. Not pretty funny. Just pretty. We brought a TV and Candle made a bomb ass playlist for us to rock out to all day. And we also brought the freakin Nintendo. Hell. Yes. For whatever reason though, my stomach decided to hate me, therefore causing me sobriety for the entire day. Boo. Dave had to stay sober too because he had to go the library because some doof he works with like completely crashed the entire system and Dave had to come to the rescue. Yay, Dave.
We basically just ate food and took pictures all day. Joe, Michael, Dave and myself decided to skip the game and play Mario instead. It was fabulous.
So yay for a good weekend with good friends and good times. I really miss Erin and Joe. Like whoa. But I guess I will settle for fabulous weekends if I must. Love you people. Oh yeah, and go Tigers! Way to kick some stupid LA Tech ass.

On a complete side note -- I apoligize for my use of capitalization. I have a job now that requires correct grammar... well, actually, they might not care, but I don't want to look like an idiot. So now I use the shift key again. Damn.

yay, i got to see what's left of the clemson gang last night. i haven't seen erin and joe since i moved over a month ago - sad, man. it was so weird being back in clemson. i definitely felt like i had "outgrown" it -- that, or i am just excited and happy to be in charleston, so i don't necessarily miss "clemson." i do, however, miss me some erin and joe like whoa.
we are all such light weights now. it's laughable. joe and i were drunk off the fabulous champagne spritzers i introduced you people to a few blogs ago by 6:00...in the afternoon. lord.
we got to run into 40 Friend Zach and Mills and Snider, and that always equals a good time. Zach chose to bite instead of hug, however, so the side of my face and my shoulder blade are slightly bruised... damnit, Zach.
of course, we had to make the signature waffle house trip at the end of our evening. joe was particularly hungry and opted to order two meals. my arteries hurt just thinking about the grease. eww.
so yeah, yay for having amazing friends. i hope you know how much you mean to me. and really, you know you have fabulous friendships when you can miss a whole month and be able to go back to the way things always were without ever missing a beat. i love you maniacs.

Saturday was the first game of the season for us crazy Tigers and maaaan was it nuts at the Esso. The entire staff had to be there at 7:00 am. For those of you that don't know, it is still dark outside then. Gross. So Lindsey picked up me, Candle, Jenny and Kate at like 6 motherfreakin 30. We were all delirious and in serious need of food. So we were all screaming for Hardee's and Lindsey had no choice but to take our asses there. We ordered food by the masses along with "two strong coffees." Kate was in the back seat exaggerating the strongness that was needed in these strong coffees in order for her to actually live through the day. We ate so furiously that there were biscuit remnants strewn about the car -- that I am certain Lindsey will continue to find for a good 3 weeks. We happened to be sitting at a redlight when this crazy car pulls up beside us and starts blowing the horn like a maniac and making a scene. We all turned to look, and it is Candice, our manager, flipping us two birds while sticking her tongue out, shaking her head and screaming. There's one way to go about waking up.
So we are there at 7:00 am. Uuuggghh. It physically hurt to be awake. I chose to pop caffeine pills, eat a donut and drink Mr. Pibb all while doing my dork dance. You know, the one where I kinda crouch down, make fists, and then swivel my hips in a clockwise manner. Yeah, that one. This black dude was watching me and he was like, "Something's missing. You need some twirk." I was like, "Oh don't worry honey, I got twirk." and I walked away. When I came back, he was like, "Damn right you got twirk." Apparently my homemade Walmart cutoff khakis did the trick. Yes, you read that correctly. I owned no real shorts to my name Friday night, so spur of the moment and a lack of options drove me to go to Walmart and find some pants and act like I was in the 90s and create my own shorts. Hey, whatever, they qualified me for twirkness, so that's fine by me.
I went outside to help set up tables when I was unfortunately greeted by a nasty bee. And the asshole stung me! Bastard. And on top of that, he stung me in my armpit! How do you even do that? I screamed and ran inside. Candice was like, damnit, if you can't breathe, you find me! Luckily I had no breathing problems... well at least they weren't caused by the bee - drunk men were a different story.
We had this temporary tattoo tent set up in the parking lot and the dude told us that he would give all the Esso Girls one for free if we put it somewhere visible on ourselves. Most of the girls got tiger paws or cute things... I opted for a different route. You know how big 18 wheelers have those mud flaps on the tires? And they usually have that girl on them? Well yeah, I got the mud flap girl branded on to my left shoulder blade in an obnoxious blue color. Can we say tacky? That thing sure did get me some attention throughout the day. Here are a few comments received from various drunk men in regards to the mud flap girl:
1. Damnit! I knew I should have put that ring in my pocket when I left my house today because I would ask you to marry me right now.
2. Ohmygod, I wish my wife would do that.
3. I love you.
The list went on, but I chose to stop listening to the drunken fools. Little miss mud flap helped me rack up some good tips though, so I can't really complain.
Early afternoon sometime I ended with a table of 6 or 7 Texas guys who were really cool. And they thought it was exceptionally cool that I was from Texas, so we bonded. Well, the boys ran up a $200 tab and then decided that they also wanted to get a gigantic order of mini bottles -- $280 worth, to be exact. 36 bottles of Absolute and 20 bottles of Jim Beam. I had to carry it in a grocery bag and guard it with my life as I pushed my way through the drunken masses of tailgaters. The bar eventually got so crowded that I couldn't physically force myself through the clusters of people inside. I actually had to go outside and weave through people out there and come in the other door to make it to my tables in the back. Madness. I did get really good at yelling "'scuse me!" and you better believe that people get out of your way when you have 3 drinks in your hands, 2 beers in your pockets and an Esso tank top on. I felt kinda powerful. And of couse the drunk guys would be like, "of course we'll move babydoll, anything for you darlin." Hey whatever, at least they weren't cussing me out. Though I did have to argue with two dicks that day. But two in 19 hours isn't too terrible. One guy was like "I need two gin and cokes." I repeated it back to him to make sure I heard him correctly (because keep in mind you shouldn't mix those two together) and when I came back he was like "what the fuck is this? I ordered gin and juice" I was like, "nope, I repeated it back to you that you said gin and coke so that is what you got. You can order another one if you want." He did. Moron. Then this other doof was like "l told one of the girls to get me a bucket and she didn't" so I told him I would but he had to give me a few minutes because I had other orders. Well, he ends up stopping me and yelling at me that he could have gone to the bar already and gotten his bucket. I was like, "well then go to the bar! Otherwise give me about 10 minutes because we are really really busy..." he shut up and I got his stupid bucket of beer to him and then he gave me nice tips after giving me hell.
We had a 20 foot screen in our parking lot with the game on -- I managed to not see a single play of the entire thing, but damn, I knew when something good or bad was happening because the Esso went absolutely insane. And holy crap, when that interruption happened with 3 minutes left in the game, I was afraid a riot was going to break out. I have never heard strands of cuss words that long or that vulgar in my life. And I thought I had a foul mouth... Goood gah, don't mess with those football fans. They'll kill someone. Speaking of that, Candle about knocked out this one moron. He called her a stupid bitch for not being fast enough waiting on him and she flipped out. Like, pounded her fist on the bar, about flew over the bar, and was like "can you not see that there are 500 other motherfuckers trying to do the same thing you are?! Don't be an asshole!" Ha! And for those of you who know Candle, know that the girl can make you laugh so hard you can't breathe, which was a very nice relief after such a ridiculous day.
We got to leave around 2:00 am, and can I just tell you that I looked like a lunatic just attempting to walk normally. I managed to fuck up my neck, hurt my back and get a massive blister on one of my toes, and my feet hurt so bad that I actually had random convulsions. So basically, if you can imagine this, I was limping, holding my arms bent in front of me with my head cocked to the side, hair all frazzled, mascara to my ears and bar smeared all over my body. I kinda looked like a deranged Quazzi Motto. You know, the hunchback guy? Gah. I was a sight. It was worth it -- her is where I brag a little -- all of the other girls on the floor made about $900 in sales. I made $1715 in sales! And I am the new girl! Go me :) I was proud. Which means, I got the best tips out of the girls on the floor too. Yaaay.
So I managed to successfully live though the first game. And we won! So yay for me for living, yay for Esso for kicking ass and yay for the Tigers for winning their first game!

So I survived the Senior Walk. Amazing. And amazingly fun also. We began our adventure at 6:30 Monday night at Esso. It was the first mexi-Monday of the season. Woot Woot. That in itself calls for a celebration. Esso was giving a free beer to everyone sporting the SW shirts. So hot. Wearing tshirts downtown is the bomb. The sign at Esso said something about "Party with Cookie." I immediately cracked up as my imagination took me back to Spring Break where I received that splendid lap dance from Cookie the Girlscout Stripper. I wonder if it's the same Cookie. I'd like to find out. She can give me another crazy lap dance. Maybe. It was kinda weird. I still don't know if I was supposed to like it or not.
We then went to Peppino's Pizza where we got $1 slices of pizza. Do you understand how exciting that is? Ate the hell out of it too. Again, praise to the almighty tshirt; aka fat disguiser. That deserves a woot woot too. (by the way, the woot woot has been pirated from Dan Lavander.)
Once we filled ourselves up on grease and carbs, it was time to start the reeeal drinking. To Overtime we go. Megan and I decided we wanted a shot. Oooh, there's a surprise. So we asked David what one of those badass shots were named that he made for us last week. I cracked up when I learned the name... Piece of Ass. So Megan has to say to the bartender "Hey, can I get a... uhhh... piece of ass...??" Ha! Best piece of ass I had all night. Actually it was the only ass I had all night. Damn good too. So then we drowned ourselves in Long Island, Red Death, Jager Bombs, Apple Bombs... you know, all the good stuff - especially the forbidden Mind Eraser. Who invented that shit? And how is it that there are morons like us that actually enjoy rotting our livers with such a drink?! I want to thank you, Mr. Mind Eraser, for all the good times you have given me. You rock out to the max. Oh, and apparently I coined that saying last night too. Everything was "too the max." Examples include but are not limited to: You suck to the max; he is gay to the max; I can shake my ass to the max; that bouncer is the bomb to the max. So David, hot bartender and bouncer walked by last night and I was like "I just want to like pet his muscles." He had way hot arms...to the max. So Megan is like "HEY! David! Come here" And proceded to give me the okay to feel him up. I got all embarassed and refused to uncross my arms or look up. Sometimes I revert back to acting 10. It happens. Whatever. So we took about 20 pictures at Overtime. Ones consisting of some of the girls dancing on the tent pole as well as Joe attaching signs that say "Under 21" and "Over 21" with arrows pointing to his crotch. Typical Joe for you.
Then Megan and I snuck away to Backstreets. Where we consumed a whole apple bomb each. No wonder I was wired until 6 fucking am... I managed to smack my ass into the owner of TTT's. He was playing pool. My mammoth ass ran into him. I think I was just standing there and it leaned over and punched him. He didn't seem to mind really. I also got hit on my two strange guys named Herman and Dan. Can I just say that Herman is one of the most God-awful names ever? I mean, who does such damage to their own child? Bastards. They told me I looked "very nice this evening" I wanted to be like "dudes, Im in a tshirt, a brightass orange skirt, Im slightly disheveled and I have beer stains already.... what part of that constitutes very nice?"
Whatever. So we went back to Overtime. Because apparently we are addicted. Next we did a lap through Tiger Town Tavern. Really it was just long enough to grafitti the walls and ceiling in the girls' bathroom. MEEN Girls were here! Senior Walk 2005, Bitches!! Enough of that.
So we peaced out and went to Loose Change. This was our 6th stop of the adventure. There was a strange old black man jamming out to the band. Of course he asked me to dance. All strange old black men love me. God, I'm on fire. I declined the offer. All the girls could not believe I could refuse such a hunk. Sike. Eww. Why do creepy old men do such things? So whatever, I drank some beer, signed some shirts, got a little loud, took some pictures... you know the drill. Asian Jayson and Karla were there. It appeared that we all seemed to follow the other around all night. Kinda funny cause you get to be like "Gah quit following me. Stalkers don't make friends."
Then we went to TD's. The Berkley Girls gave us a free pitcher of beer. Woot Woot again. I was way trashed in TD's. I kept stealing everyone's cups and writing "I Love Nicole" on them. Apparently I was full of myself last night... what else is new. Kidding. I'm only cocky and abbrasive on special occassions. Senior Walk was special. Therefore enter cocky and abbrasive. We vandalized the piss out of the bathroom here too of course. I think we actually did at every bar. However, I would forget I had a Sharpie and instead I would just sit and makeout with my drink. Because hey, who wants to write on walls when you can make out with alcohol? By this time I decided I needed dinner #2. So we hauled back to Peppino's. When my number was called, I happily pranced in to retrieve my eats. I then went to get some napkins since I can be quite a disaster.... and god, was I one... so as I am pulling for the napkins, I tilt my plate; thus causing one of my slices of pizza to fall to the ground and the other one to run smack into the middle of my wayhot SW shirt. Nooooo!! I looked puzzlingly at the pizza on the floor for a few seconds, stuck out my bottom lip, grabbed it and ran outside. I had cheese stuck to the front of my shirt and grease dripping down me. How sad. And how stupid! I was so embarassed. I wouldn't look up. I just picked the melted cheese off of my shirt and made a frowny face and grunted with every cheese chunk I pulled off and slung to the ground. We ate the floor pizza. Stephanie is alive, so it was okay. I guess. However I had a miserable pizza grease stain on the middle of my shirt for the remainder of the night. Megan stole a sign that said "Caution Do Not Enter." I strategically held it over my miserable grease clot while I pranced down the street back to Overtime. I didn't really care at that point though, so I proudly displayed my grease. Megan wrote on my shirt explaining that Tina did it and also that it was the pizza that was stuuupid... not Nicole. When in all actuality, it was in fact Nicole that was completely to blame for the horrid stain. Idiot. Me,Megan and Joe stayed at Overtime for the rest of the night. Drinking, making fun of idiot girls trying to dance. God, they were horrible... and you know, just being glad that we had each other to sit with and rag on others.
All in all, Senior Walk 2005 was a success. I really do have the best friends. I love all of you so much and I am glad I can participate in drunken festivities with all of you... a BIG Woot Woot for Senior Walk!!

First, CONGRATULATIONS to all who graduated from USC (Spartanburg included) this weekend. Absolutely awesome. I can't believe I graduate from Clemson in 5 days. Whoa. In honor of all we have done at the fine University, we are celebrating by taking part in what is known as Senior Walk. We do feel that the name should be altered since Senior Walk only consists of walking around downtown to all the bars to get hotass discounts on drinks; therefore we like to call it Senior Crawl. There will also be some Senior Stumble, but inevitably we will all be forced to bumble around by the end of the night on our hands and knees. Which I look forward to greatly. So, I chose to prep you for the entry that will occur post Senior Walk. We get to wear these t-shirts that say senior walk, which is really just a nice way to say alcoholic. But hey, it's gonna get me a free corona and happy hour prices everywhere. I'll take it. Also, our beloved Joe Long decided we need to take a taxi, though not a taxi cab, but rather a taxi van. Because it will be fun to see how many of us we can pile into one. And also because it will cost everyone approximately $1.72 to travel DT and back. And that is the bomb. I'm so excited to write the entry that will encompass the Senior Crawl experience. Makes me clap thinking about it.
So, I went car shopping today. Woo woo! New Celica here I come! I really really like this yellow one, but mom and i are semiskittish because weird people would then know I drive a yellow car - and hot girl with hot car can potentially lead to way creepy stalker people. And I've had one too many in my life of those. One being one too many... stupid bitch... so yeah, car shopping. Yes I realize I kind of want to own a too fast too furious car, but if being a car club kid was cool, I would so be one. My whole family is car obbsessed. It happens. We like to look at pretty things. I just happen to like pretty cars that look like they could be on some race track next to Paul Walker. Don't judge. Yep. I also got to drive the badass camero to go car shopping. Yes, I am a spoiled brat. This I know.
Okay, lastly I want to talk about Friday night at Overtime. Okay really, if you are black, dance black. Don't let white girls show you up. So like really, Puff Daddy was at the bar.. or at least some lame ass who wanted to be ol' Puff Dummy. He had on these stupid sunglasses with like the gold wire rimmed effect, this extremely oversized basketball jersey that said something like "Numba 1 Stunna" on the back that was florescent orange and white, horribly baggy jeans and Air Force Ones complements of Nelly. He also had these strange orange colored streamer-like tassle things hanging from his pocket. Derrick was like "What is that?" I was like "... an octopus...?" I have no damn clue what the were - but they seemingly resembled those bike streamers we used to put on our handlebars when we were 8. So cool. ... Moron ... And his dance moves consisted of him stompping twice to the left and then like 3 times to the right. I was like "What, is this the Cha Cha Slide?! Do something!" And he'd clap and then do the rub-your-hands together shit and clap some more. Then stomp again. Do a twirl. Stop. Size up every female in the place. Waddle over to his buddies. And stomp. Ugh. Please someone smack me in the forehead if I do gay things like that. Really. So being the show off I am (Megan too) we pranced out to the dance floor, busted a few moves that were 485 times cooler than P. Dumbass and then took our respective seats back at the bar. To take more shots. Complements of the awesome ass bartender who likes to hook us way up. Woo woo. And yummy shots are always cooler than a stomping, clapping Puff Daddy.