Speaking of that...

Friday, December 17, 2010

First of all, this is exactly what it looks like. I have no idea how it happened, except for my one connection being my college roommate as a mutual friend (she was from Santa Barbara so it's not totally insane).

Is it real? Most likely not. Looks real. I'm going with it.

My college roommate was a hoot and a half. We used to drive out into the farm fields to smoke weed, run around the dorms drunk, and eat these cookies we found at some random bakery in Camarillo. They were called "melting memories" or something. Every time she'd say the name, I'd crack up and shove more in my mouth. She always had a boyfriend who lived in Santa Barbara, so even though she "lived with me," she slept in in Santa Barbara every night and every weekend. Also, and this might be a different memory/different roommate, but I remember someone had a sign above their closet door that said "Back door guests are the best guests." I probably made a few jokes about her being an anal whore, which she was not. Actually, she was a very nice roommate (who occasionally dabbled in cocaine). But she always made me feel bad about myself because she was so stunning. Being a girl, right?!

There was one night in particular where one of my college boyfriends had just left to go back up to San Luis Obispo and I was bummin' hard. She took me down the street to smoke some more and when we got back, she made me chicken nuggets with Tapatio. Then she turned on "Ella Enchanted" and it was the most philosophical Anne Hathaway film I had ever seen (not a difficult conclusion to come to).

My mother and my boyfriend's mother read my blog, so I will go ahead and say I'm not big on weed anymore, but when I do indulge, I no longer give into the munchies. They are simply a mind trick, and if you give in you will end up like Carnie Wilson, I swear to you. I read an article with her in which she laid out that the only reason she used to be completely obese was because she used to get blazed and eat her face off. That pretty much kept my hand out of the Cheeze-It box. If guilt doesn't get you, vanity will.

Anyway, good story time. I'm gonna go hang out with Katy now.