Good Times...

My four Years at the University of Illinois were some of the greatest times of my life. I came in as a slightly immature 18 year old, left as a slightly mature 22 year old. Originally I planned to go to Xavier but I opted out. Why? I thought I would get homesick. *shrugs* The dumb ass justifications of an 18 year old whose mother let her pick her own school. I graduated top of my high school class (not a hard thing when you come from an inner city high school where half of the class was either pregnant or left behind) and I was accepted to every single college I applied for. Funny story: I got drunk the night before I was suppose to take my ACT so of course when I stumbled in the house smelling like E&J and Cranberry Juice with less than 2 hours before I was suppose to be at the testing center, my mother steered my ass right into the shower and right back out the door. I barely made it there with time to spare and I was done with every section in 20 minutes so I can sleep off my hangover. I got a 24 overall with a 30 in Reading/Comp. My counselor was surprised. After all, who finishes a test without really reading the questions, falls asleep, have to be woken up by people around me, and still do relatively well on a test? *shrugs* That of course did not translate over to college of course.

My room mate was a Chinese girl my first semester. Either b*tch was scared of me or she was just into her boyfriend because she never stayed in our room. Never. I saw her a total of 3 times my first semester. Of course I was in my best friend’s dorm room across campus 99% of the time so I was never in the dorm either but I rarely saw her. And she was the first Asian girl I’ve seen dressed like the girls who are with Gwen Stefani. Like that mismatched, crazily expensive crap some Asians tend to wear.

I was an alkie my freshman and sophomore year. I drank from Wednesday to Sunday. No lie. I was notorious for passing out on the bus and/or car. Trust, there are pictures to back up the claim. I still have the bruises from random trips and falls. Like when I went to a Que party, tried to Juke Slide and tripped and fell. Got up and tripped over my stiletto heels that I took off. Or when I was at the Kappa House and I got wasted and was walking down the street (and at the time they lived on a dark ass street that I was scared to walk down alone but you know being drunk make you fearless) and my friends found me half sleep next to a mailbox. You know they ignant asses propped my ass up and had me draped over the mailbox King Magazine style. Or when I would go to McKinley for doctor’s notes, faking symptoms, because I got drunk the night before and missed class. I was the “sickly girl” the whole semester. How I got through the first two years is still a miracle to me considering the party animal that I was.

I met my boyfriend at college and we got together in February of 2002. I had to dump all my potentials at the time because I felt something was there with me and him. At the time I was juggling three guys but only sleeping with one. He was cool and lawd could he work wonders with the tongue but he was too needy. Too possessive. And he had the nerve to accuse me of being an alkie and having anger issues (he was a psych major). Ok ok partly true but he didn’t have to put me on blast like that. I get into a couple of bar brawls and I have anger management issues. Yes, your truly, has gotten tossed out of a few campus bars. Mainly for underage drinking but some for arguing with the bartender (F*ck you mean I only can have two drinks?), random conflicts (people love to wait until you’re drunk to tell you some f*cked up sh*t), a fight or two (he shouldn’t have grabbed my ass under my skirt), and sometimes just because my friends and I were bored and we wanted the excuse to scream, “Well f*ck this place…It wasn’t that hot anyway. I’ve been thrown out of better establishments!”

Ahh the college days.

I admit I had the “Black” version of fun and the “White” version of fun. I kicked it with both sides of the fence but not when my white girl friends were depressed because I don’t do well with the “White Girl Crying Over Everything In The World” thing they tend to do. I did the Karaoke bars, tore up some Prince, Britney, Smashing Pumpkins (don’t ask) in the process. Drunk a beer or two (I have you know I drinks the finest of Bacardi). Danced on a few tables Paris Hilton style. I even went to the White Frat Houses and had a good time. But you know I had to cut out there because um yeah White folks are wild when they are drunk. Like tearing up sh*t, kissing each other (I wish a b*tch would…I ain’t never that drunk), swerving in and out of traffic, hanging off trees and signs, and just get f*cked up…yet they manage to make it home 8 blocks away safely.

I did the Black folk thing. Get crunk at Black Frat Parties. Drink their random “specialty” drinks that sneaks up on you and get you f*cked up. Get into it with random people and lawd don’t step on my brand new shoes….Post up outside parties with my girls looking too fresh and clean, waiting for the party to end to “parking lot pimp”. Get drunk before, during, and after the party. Play spades or poker. Chill out at someone’s house. I even smoked a little weed yall. Yes 3 times in college but lawd I learned weed is not my friend. I get the giggles and can’t stop. I laugh so much I start crying so um yeah the weed was not passed to the left when I was around.

I never did the sorority thing although sometimes I wish I had. I had friends who were in all the Black Frats and Sororities but it wasn’t for me. I don’t know why but I didn’t have that intense interest. It was hot and cold with me. Sometimes I was into it and other times I wasn’t. Besides I was already seen as “too wild and crazy” for some of the sororities so I gave up. My best friend is a Sigma and people swore we went together for the longest. I mean we were messing around before I got with my boyfriend and he did sleep with half of the campus and he was known for scraping my drunken ass off the ground and making sure I got home safe (and clothes intact) but nah. I did, however, get into all Sigma parties free. As with the Kappas, Alphas, and Iotas. Sorry, I avoided Ques like the plague after my debut at their party. Plus it was a Que with enormous teeth who just scared the sh*t out of me so I kinda strayed from the Que house. I don’t remember paying to get into a lot of parties but I never complained when I did.

I calmed down my drinking after my “incident” with one of my stalkers. I can’t stand his ass. He called me the other day talking bout how come I ran out of McDonalds that day. Uggg. Gin will make you sin. I am thankful no one ever took advantage of me in my drunken state (ok well one did…Bastard in question) and I have good people in my circle who wouldn’t just leave me. Ok same friends also convinced me that Jell-O Shots did not count as an alcoholic beverage but still…Good friends are hard to find.

My best friend who I moved in with 2nd semester of my freshman year after her crazy roommate (and my other ex best friend) dropped out and I got tired of just living in her room and decided to make it official. I mean people thought I lived in her dorm anyway. A rumor even went around that I was a hoe because people would peep me leaving at like 2 am every night, assuming I’m dipping off to some dude’s room when I was really trudging back to my real dorm room because my books for class were there as well as most of my clothes. Yeah guys, I got plagued with the “hoe” stamp for a while but it faded because 1) I am not a hoe. 2) I am not a hoe. 3) If a person approached me like I was a hoe, I treated them like they were a hoe. Of course I got a few notches on my belt that I would deny in a heartbeat but I’m honest. If we slept together, we slept together. If it was good, it was good. If not, then well, you know I told my girls. You also did not get a phone call for a repeat performance I can tell you that. I hate men who lie on their d*cks basically. I mean some of the sh*t I heard about me was hilarious and I had no problems laughing it off. I was more amused that some guys took the liberty to pump up a non-existant love affair and then blubber like an idiot when confronted. And this was when I had a boyfriend. Sure he was online at the time (he’s a Kappa) and you know that means he virtually disappeared from campus but the sh*t I heard was just ridiculous. Just don’t do it fella. It makes you look dumb and desperate. I think a guy or two was mad because I didn’t do the whole “sweating you” thing. Like I didn’t call you afterwards and I would kinda play you to the left afterwards. My rules are this: I make the rules. I decide booty calls hours and whether or not I want another round. I call you only when I want something. It’s sex not marriage. Don’t get it twisted. Otherwise…Have a great day.

We had too much fun. We never had a fight or argument. We were known for our pizza fetish. We would lock each other out the room on random times which meant someone (usually me) would have to make the “walk of shame” downstairs in my bath towel to get a key for my room. Yeah..Embarassing times there. We once got drunk and fell off the bunk beds. She had a boyfriend who I couldn’t stand and nothing mad me prouder than when she would braid his little stubby hair and I would mention how he need some “Hair Gro” because his hair stayed the same length the entire four years they were together. Our homemade beauty salon/bakery. We were always baking something and playing in people’s hair. We forever had Red Kool-Aid and Doritos in the room. Our addiction to AIM, Collegeclub and Blackplanet. I still go on BP every once and awhile. Still bootleg as hell. Our fake all-nighters that lasted until 1 or 2 am. We would then set the alarm to 5 am and try to finish up the last 6 pages of a paper before the class began at 10 am often running out the door at the last minute in PJs to deliver the paper. We lived in PJs when it got warm (an influence from our White friends. You know Black folks had to be pressed, clean, and proper to step out the door) and I lived in my Doo-Rag and Hello Kitty Capri short set and flip flops. The times we would drag ourselves to breakfast, lunch and dinner and roll back in the bed, rolling out of bed to get dressed to do some damage on campus. I gained, lost, and regained my freshman 15. I came in college weighing 100 lbs and I graduated weighing in at 128…ish. *lol* Doesn’t seem like a lot but it was a struggle to gain that weight.

Got first apartment with my K-Sweets Junior Year. Realized I would go mad living with them. *lol* I was like a maid, constantly cleaning up and nagging at they asses all the time. We did have a raw ass apartment though. I hated that my room was closest to the kitchen (let me stop lying…They heard me in the cabinets every night) but of course anyone who came in had to pass the kitchen to go where ever in the apartment. My girl had some little thuggish friends so I constantly had to come out and tell them to shut the f*ck up. No one wants to hear their “Get Rich Or Die Trying” stories at 4 am. Crib smelling like weed and Hennessy. Then some major drama went down (one of my roommates was stealing our rent/bill money and was about to get us evicted…Long story yall) so I got my own apartment Senior Year because of that. I had calmed down tremendously by then. I was like a homebody. I focused more on school. I still got wasted but only on Saturdays. Then after graduation I moved to DC with my boyfriend.

It’s really too many college stories to break down to their entirety so Ima work them into postings and stuff but oh I loved my college years! I wouldn’t change anything (maybe my grades and major) ! Does anyone out there have college stories? I wanna hear!!!