Oh, college. Truly the best time of your life. I guess it all starts in high school, though. So, I studied hard at my private high school and tested well and did all the extracurriculars to the max, so I had my pick of colleges. I remember I applied to Boston University, where I DIDN’T GET IN (wtf), Tulane (which gave me a scholarship to their honors program), NYU, USC (my cunt mother didn’t send my SAT scores here, effectively keeping me from following my high school boyfriend out west), and Washington University in St. Louis. I eventually went to Wash U, not just because they offered me the most money and were the “best school” I got into, but in part because it was so beautiful: the architecture was really nice, it felt very “college-y”, and the red tulips up front sold me basically right away (I eventually heard this a lot from other Wash U students and have come to think of it as Wash U’s gimmick to attract perspective students). I am so glad I went, though, despite its barely-there name recognition, cold, cold winters, and less-than-thrilling skyline.
I remember my (cunt) mother and I were checking out
perspective colleges and we were in Boston. I remember I had intentionally bombed
my interview at Sarah Lawrence because the facilities looked crazy run down for
$50,000 a year. I also remember my (cunt) mother purchased me my first real
coat in Boston: a black pea coat from J. Crew as well as my first ballet flats:
black, velvet ones, also from J. Crew. I wore these to Wash U, which we almost
didn’t visit, actually. I had two interviews there: one with a student and one
with a member of the faculty at the art school, where I was applying. I think
my first interview was with the student; it was a brown guy and I remember most
telling him about how I had made the Slave Leia costume and worn it to Dragon Con
earlier in the year. As soon as I told him this, I thought it was a mistake,
but turns out, brown college guys are also huge nerds who think this kind of
thing is cool, and he seemed accordingly impressed.
My next interview was with Georgia Bennington, who I think
was like the student liaison for the art school administration or something,
because I had many dealings with her later in my college career. I brought a
copy of the literary magazine I was on the staff of in high school, which just
happened to include a ton of my art. I showed her and spoke to her and I guess
I impressed her, because the school gave me the Hudson Scholarship for a
half-ride to Wash U. I believe this was awarded to me based almost entirely on
this interview. I must say, I am quite engaging in person, and was even more so
when I was younger, prettier, and more inclined to care about social mores.
I do remember visiting NYU and meeting a crew of dazzlingly
multiracial NYU girls in a café, who, after talking to me for a while,
expressed their desire for my admittance. However, it was cold as a well
digger’s ass there. Honestly, that was the coldest I’ve ever been to date. I
remember walking the snow-ridden streets with my (cunt) mother and we, being
southern Georgia peaches used to sunshine and the warmth of the sunbelt, were
forced to duck sporadically into shops along our path in order to not freeze to
death. Also, my (cunt) mother did not have the wherewithal to call a cab, and
so I was forced to hail the yellow, whizzing taxis the entire time we were
there. All this, combined with my prior experience in New York (terrible summer
camp experience where I was overshadowed by Europeans, had to shower every time
I went outdoors due to that shit city’s extreme heat, and had my heart “broken”
by some stoner, back-flipping, artist mongrel) left me unlikely to attend NYU,
especially without the draw of monetary assistance.
I remember visiting Tulane, in New Orleans, and finding it
so untenable I literally left my student host and returned to the hotel where
my (cunt) mother was. I have a memory: I was crossing some field and meeting
with my student host. I found her, a brunette in a navy shirt and two yellow
birds on the breasts. I asked her about it when I began talking to her, and she
informed me the birds were boobies. Then she took me to her dorm
room, where she and her female roommate had pulled their twin beds together to
form one, giant, lesbionic bed? They also were acting pretty gay and as I saw
no other obvious place for me to sleep, I was afraid I would have to
share this big, gay bed with them. After they told me they weren’t partying
that night and that when they went out, they went to a local bar, The Boot, as
most Tulane students did, and did not often venture “into town”, I left.
It was just not my scene right then and the thought of not partying while in
New Orleans to look at colleges was too much to bear for my 17-year-old-self. I
was more interested in finishing my novel, Memoirs of a Geisha, which is
still one of my favorites. And thus I did not attend Tulane.
Once I got into Wash U and they gave me my scholarship, they
also bought me a plane ticket to visit the school. I don’t know how it
happened, but I ended up staying with some younger girl from my high school,
Joclyn’s, older sister. We flew there with her and her mother, I do not know
why. I remember my high school boyfriend and I had just gotten into some dumb
fight and he had written me a break up letter (which he let the class
president, Sam Stein, read ☹) and I was all incensed and upset and thought it was
bogus. I let this older, Asian lady-mom read it on the plane and she said it was
actually rather eloquent (it was; he was always a talented writer) and that he
certainly meant it (he didn’t, we got back together). I also remember her
telling me about how she had gone on vacation and was on a boat and nearly fell
into a swarm of sharks? But that she was somehow saved and yet lost some
diamond, which she thought was “payment” for her life? The things we remember…
My next memory was being in this older sister girl’s dorm
room and getting ready to go out. There was this situation at Wash U where they
would bus freshmen to clubs in St. Louis proper. I remember she had gained a
few pounds since starting college and was bummed she didn’t look super amazing,
or whatever. I remember I lent her my glittery, blue-grey tank top (that used
to be my stepmom’s) that showed her midriff and I remember commenting that if
you’re a little too thick, it helps to show some skin. I don’t know about this
now, and I’m sure she was not anywhere close to thick at the time. I actually remember
this girl was so pretty, cool, and nice that a sorority let her in without her
“rushing” or whatever they call that week when girls flirt with each other;
they were just like “We heard about you…” and let her in. I also remember her showing me Salad Fingers...
I remember going to the club and meeting some guy on the
way? Maybe on the bus? And then running into him again on the dance floor where
we danced. All I really remember about this person is that his belt buckle had
a bird on it, that he had black hair, and was vaguely skater-ish. He was also
hot. We both wanted to hook up more and when we found out I was staying in his
building, one floor down, we were both thrilled. I went back to his room (I
think he had a single, because I don’t remember a roommate or another bed or
anything) and while we were hooking up, this crazy, young bitch Joclyn I’d come
with busted in and was like, pretend I’m not here and fell into a papasan chair. I guess she didn’t want to be drunk and alone? IDK but this same girl
got so drunk some other time she puked in my suitcase, which all tracks
symbolically. I didn’t actually fuck this guy, saying that I actually had a
boyfriend, which was kinda true. Plus, Jocyln was, like, in the room. IDK. The
only other things I remember about Joclyn were that we had art together, she
had dated this Egyptian guy my other friend used to give hand jobs to until he
told her to use her mouth, and she made this pretendish black guy sweets
during Ramadan for when the sun went down and his skinny Muslim ass could eat (he wasn't that skinny). The things we remember…
When you’re visiting Wash U as a senior in high school, the
college students call you a prefrosh, or they did “in my day”. Not prefresh, as
in prefresmen, prefrosh. IDK, college kids are dumb. So, freshmen, being
little more than high school seniors themselves, tolerated prefrosh, and would
occasionally hook up with them, as in my case. But a sophomore or above wouldn’t
really interact with one, based on the fact that they were so “beyond” them and
that, really, there was little occasion for these two strata to cross paths
anyway (as prefrosh typically stayed with freshmen on their visits). I have
another prefrosh memory: at some point the older, cool girl took us to a frat.
Now, I had seen Animal House (which ostensibly was based on the ZBT house at
Wash U) and as a general revolutionary/artist/troublemaker, I felt I was just
so above a fraternity situation, even as a prefrosh. So while my hostess
lady was socializing normally outside the frat, I was sitting alone on some low
wall apart from those “lowly Greek fucks”. I remember they were kinda weirded
out, yet I felt vaguely that the guys were like, interested, but put off by my
standoffishness.
I remember when I got my SAT scores back, my (cunt) mother
was shocked I’d done so well, and when I got my scholarship letter from Wash U
she was like, unbelieving. She’s always been competitive with me and I guess it
miffed her that I’d gotten into a way better school than she had (UNC) and was
also offered money to attend. Bitch. Anyway, I decided to go to Wash U when
they gave me the money. The school was ranked number 10/11 in the country (tied
with Brown University, an Ivy League) at the time I was considering it, so, you
know, I went. When I actually graduated from high school, I remember I
stood for longer than necessary on the balcony we all ascended and crossed as
we shook the dean’s hand and were given our diplomas, because they announced my
scholarship as well as what school I would be attending. So I figured I had
time to chill and look cool and look around at the top, but all I really saw
was my best friend in the audience below, laughing at me, clutching her
face/nose? and motioning me to keep it moving. It’s slightly embarrassing to
think of this…
When I left to go to college, my sister bought me an entire
pecan pie from Bones’ this super exclusive, good-ole-boys steakhouse in
Buckhead (uptown) I never actually got a table at. The whole reason I knew
about this amazing-ass pie was because I used to take golf lessons from a giant
lesbian at the Edwin Watt’s golf store next door. When I was done swinging
sticks with my lady, I’d go over to the bar at Bones’ and order their pecan
pie. For some reason, I think my sister was with me sometimes, so she knew I
loved this pie, and she bought me an entire one for the road on the way to St.
Louis. It was sweet, like so, so sweet because the pie was crazy sweet
and probably cost her like $30-$40, or more. But I remember I ate so much of
this delicious pie on the 9 hour drive to Wash U, I was like sick of sugar,
pie, and pecans by the time we got there.
The first thing I really remember about being at college
proper was my freshmen year roommate: Charis. She had called me earlier in
the summer to introduce herself and it had all gone terribly wrong. I had just
finished fucking my boyfriend at the time, and I got a call. I picked up and it
was this timid girl, introducing herself and saying she was going to be my
roommate. I was so caught off guard, I told her like three insane lies right
off the bat. I guess I sounded weird, because I think she asked what was up, or
something, to which I first replied that I had been sleeping. Then I changed it
to I had just gotten out of the shower; why? We’ll never know… Then I think I
said something else, and she was like ok, you’re nuts, byeeeeeee. So when I
showed up in person on move-in day, I think she was expecting some goth, sex-freak,
because later she told me she had known I had just been fucking when she called
in the summer, and said when she saw me she was glad I “looked normal”.
I do not remember any first impression of her other than she
was pretty and Asian, but I do recall that her mother just sat down right on
the floor. They had put down a pinkish rug and her mother had just plopped
right down on it, cris-cross applesauce style, like as I was moving in. I
remember being struck by a) how flexible she seemed for someone “so old” (my
mother would not truly be able to do such a thing) and b) how child-like this
made her seem. My new roommate was pre-med and culturally from Singapore, but I
think she had come from Pennsylvania? Wow, I can’t believe I can’t remember…
IDK. She was very pretty and very delicate and rather retiring, diminutive, and
stoic. She had brought next to no decorations for her side of the room except a
fake string of ivy. But what struck me most was that her name was pronounced
Sherry, which was my (cunt) mother’s best friend/cousin’s name.
I don’t remember too much of the first day, other than that
everything was about your “floor”. The people in our building, Umrath, had
chosen it because it was supposed to be more “social” than the newer, nicer
buildings. I was on Umrath 3, or the third and highest floor. The rooms went
boy-girl-boy-girl with four singles, and I think two triples, and everyone else
was doubled up as roommates. I do remember the art school kids had made me a
special name plate thing for my door that was some pink and black,
swirling-design, tissue paper thing, with black electrical tape and my name on it in glitter glue. It was very pretty and made me feel special and I kept it for
years afterwards. To the left of me and Charis’s room was a Jewish philosophy
major, Jeff, and his roommate: an Indian, pre-med, music student named
Varun. On our right was some nerdy, ADHD white guy Ben, and his beautiful
Jewish roommate, David. Yeah, there were a lot of Jews at my college; some
people called Wash U, Wash Jew.
One other thing I remember from those first days, was some
weird make-sure-you-get-consent-before-sex play we all went to in some chapel?
Who knows, but afterwards we had some kind of floor-wide discussion on it.
There was one moment where the question was raised about how, exactly, one goes
about getting consent to fuck another someone. For some insane reason, I
thought I knew this, and could talk about it/act it out by myself? IDK. So I
like, raised my hand and brought all the attention on myself and was like: LIKE
THIS! And then tried to IDK, start pretending to get consent from a
non-existent person??? Who knows, but almost immediately I realized I couldn’t
do this and just sort of giggled and was like, just kidding! And everyone
laughed and this girl Dara, sitting next to me, sort of patted my head and was
like “Oh, Macy, I love you”. There was also some ice breaker with our floor where two people would stand facing one another, but with a sheet in between them; then the sheet would be raised, and the first person to name the other, won. My new roommate, Charis, and I were paired together and when the sheet went up, I was so astonished to see the only other person I really knew on the other side, that I totally blanked while she screamed out "Macy!" and won. I also remember someone told me to draw a dinosaur
on a whiteboard later and I did and they were like WOW! Then end...
So, hot, next-door-neighbor David and I almost had a thing
for a second. It was weird: I came into college with a boyfriend and everyone
knew that, but I wasn’t super faithful back then and so I sort of played with
David for a while. I think we kissed a bit, nothing heavy, but once he realized
I wasn’t serious, he got all distant and I guess told some friend of his he was
annoyed with me, because once when I was in his room being dumb, she kinda
snapped at me to basically leave him alone and quit playing games, which I totally
did. I never fucked with him again and he ended up dating one of my best friends,
Ella, for years. I remember once David was just hanging out naked in the hall,
with his hands clasped together over his junk, his beautiful, Jewish ass just
bare and swinging in the wind, being like “Here I am”. He eventually kinda
asked the girls around him if it was ok, and we were all like YEAH it's
ok…
So this idea of my hooking up with my friends' partners
before they did actually became quite a thing. It was totally weird/insane. At
some point I formed a crew, and I say I because it was basically me that
pulled us all together. There was Ella, a Jewish, fairy/elf girl from the
northeast who was in art school with me; Kristin, a hot, blonde Texas girl I
really became acquainted with because we used to smoke weed together until she
realized it made her look cracked out; then there was Betty who was a piece of
work, man. She was from Hong Kong and her real name was Iyna Hu, though her 2nd
grade teacher had christened her Betty, because, apparently, at that time,
Chinese people pulled English names from a baby name book from the 50's. Her
parents were richer than God and she had all the things and was obsessed with
all the things because I guess they replaced her parents' love? She was also
crazy: eating disorder but still a bit hefty (at least that year), a strange
sense of self, and she had this “boyfriend” Robin in England who treated her
like garbage and was clearly cheating on her (and she on him) but she bought
him crazy expensive gifts all the time, for no reason. He once told her she
was like his stupid-expensive Dunhill cigarettes: his brand, or some
shit, which she mistakenly thought was romantic. Then Charis, my pretty little,
doctor-to-be, Singapore-doll roommate. And me. We were kinda the eclectic, wild
girl sluts, tbh. Lol.
So like I said, I hooked up with David a bit, who eventually
dated Ella. They met at some Jewish enclave thing Wash U had for incoming Semites,
or whatever. When she started hanging out with David, sitting on his bed and
stuff, me and Charis, who felt proprietary rights toward him for some reason, were
like, um... But Ella turned out to be way cool and she and David were an ok
couple. I do remember her saying once that she was miffed because David had
once told her he thought I was “hot” but had never called her hot.
Then there was Aaron, who ended up kinda dating Kristin. I
don’t remember hooking up with Aaron, but I guess we at least kissed at some
point, because I definitely remember it being a thing that I’d gotten with all
my friends' men first… Then there was Aaron’s best friend, another David, who
was so, so hot. Like, evil hot, though. He had a single room on the other side of
the hall and he fucking used it. He just plowed through women, because he was
so hot! IDK. I guess he and I hooked up, too, though I really don’t recall,
because he eventually took Charis’s virginity in squalid circumstances at this
formal we all went to later, and it was a thing that I had had him first. I
don’t think Betty and I ever shared a man, though I remember we were all drunk one
time outside the frats, and Betty was like clinging to this whatever guy’s hand
and he was trying to talk to me and she like forced him to make out with her
for a second, and he did, then he snapped back to talking to me…
I do remember everyone was all up on Facebook at the time.
It had been created only like three years earlier and we were all on it all the
time and it was a super THING. This was also back when it was exclusively
college students, so it was way cooler. I remember for a while Betty made Charis
be in a “relationship” with her on Facebook. Betty was kind of a bully,
especially with Charis. Betty was crazy smart, but emotionally crippled and
hated to show weakness and hated anyone who was in any way “better” than her.
Now, Charis was beautiful and graceful and thin and smart and boys wanted her.
This all haunted Betty (who wasn’t ugly and eventually lost weight) for the
entire time we were all friends and eventually Betty began to put Charis down.
Once I got wind of it, I put a stop to it, because Charis was literally crying
after Betty had called her fat and ugly, which was obviously not true. But
before this all got bad, these two little Asian girls would lay in the same
twin bed and watch Asian soap operas together.
 |
I do remember tv on your computer was a thing. There was one
point where all the girls on our floor watched the fuck out of Grey’s Anatomy.
This one architecture student named Kate had the dvds for seasons 1 and 2 and
they went through all our computers like wildfire. It was totally gross, as
that show is trash trash trash, but we didn’t know: we were like 18. We also
got into Project Runway: I remember sitting around on the floor of Ella and
Betty and Sam’s triple room and watching the finale to season 2, where that
Sarah girl did those petal-like things for skirts and stuff. Some parent/dad
walked in on us while we were watching it and was like, wtf shouldn’t ya'll be
studying? And we were like, uh, it’s Friday, dipshit. I also remember
getting lots of the girls on our floor together and watching 10 Things I
Hate About You on my computer in my room. I also remember Guitar Hero was a
thing…
And, of course, we went to class occasionally. I was into my
classes at first and did fairly well. First year art classes are tolerable and
I remember enjoying 2D art. I remember at one point we named opposites like like and dark, hard and soft, and I named male and female and felt very satisfied with myself. I was friends with the 2D design class TA (for some reason [she was
pretty weird and definitely tragic-looking, with a mustache she just wouldn’t
shave]) and I remember she went to bat for me during a critique of my cut-out
dragon, negative/positive space piece, saying how the curve of the fire was
mimicked in the curve of the dragon’s scales and the curve of the Asian lady’s
fan (which I had not noticed nor intended, but it was true and I was
ever so grateful to her right then). I also remember I drew a huge charcoal
drawing of Charis in her underwear in some alleyway holding a gun at the viewer
(which I now recognize as an expression of my instinct to be a prostitute-turned-assassin).
I remember in 3D art I couldn’t give a shit about any of it so I pretended to
be really into it to avoid the professor noticing I didn’t try at all… As for the other classes, I supposed they happened...
I remember I took a Japanese civilization class that was
particularly interesting. I took the class because after reading Memoirs of a
Geisha and Shogun, I was basically a Japanophile. I wrote my final paper for this class in one
night and used one source; it was about how Japanese women weren’t having
babies anymore due to wanting to work, and how the population of Japan was in
serious decline. I remember being in this dim computer room in the library all
night, thinking about how wild it was that Japan was in trouble because ladies
didn’t want to have babies anymore... The teacher liked my paper but commented
that I should have used more than one source. I also remember telling some dumb
fuck uncle of mine (that I later learned had molested all these women in my
family including my mother) about studying Japan, to which he responded
“As long as it ain’t Africa!”. He later died in jail from kidney shit. Ha.
But it all started to go downhill for me second semester
after I brought weed back from my boyfriend’s in LA. For that titillating
airport-weed-security story, see my WTF IS WEED? post. But let’s just say: I
made it. And I immediately started smoking up a storm. I think with Kristin
at first, in a parking garage, then with these guys Lauren and Jeff, my “next
door neighbor”. I remember I was working on that cut-out dragon piece for 2D
design and Lauren and Jeff literally came downstairs and asked me to smoke them
out. And I super did, and thus it was cemented: we became the Triumvirate, or
just three people who hung out and smoked too much pot all the time. Lauren was
tall and goofy, with prominent cheeks, and came from New England; she was an
art schooler like me and in 2D I remember her doing this nautical color palette
for the color theory project we did, which she called “Favorite”. She also once
did a film about making an ice cream sundae with the tune “L is for the way you
look at me" in the background. Jeff was a semi-gangly, darkly-featured guy
who was pretty whatever. I don’t remember saying this, but apparently I
commented once to someone who told him later that he couldn’t dance and I guess he got butt-hurt about it. This will
come up again.
I can’t remember where we smoked at first, but eventually we
included Jeff’s roommate, Varun, in it most of the time and he had a
volcano (a pyramid-shaped vaporizer). So, since this didn’t super smell, we
could smoke in their room, which was conveniently right next to mine. I
remember Varun commenting that it was a shame I was a bitch to him at first (I
don’t remember this, but I also don’t doubt it), because earlier in the year,
he had had some super chronic. After we were sufficiently blitzed, Jeff would lie in his bed, Laruen would sit at
his feet, and I would sit on a chair between Jeff’s bed and Varun’s and we
would zone out and watch pointless tv. I remember I was the party monger and I would handle the mechanics: I would
load the weed, stir it when it needed it, and pass the bag around to everyone,
keeping track of the rotation and smoking order. It was pretty dumb, but we
thought we were cool, and eventually we started a Facebook group called The
Triumvirate (though there were really four of us) that had a smokestack as the
picture. But, yeah, after I discovered the “joys” of pot, I couldn’t have cared
less about my classes. I totally phoned it all in, and got some of the first
C’s of my life. My teachers noticed and my peers did, too. Everyone knew me as
the weed girl after a while and my professors were like: what happened??? I
remember I went around saying that if I could, I’d have a THC pump attached to
my hip. It was dumb af.
Memories: So, crazy shit went down, of course. A few things:
my friends and I started having “Tuna Tuesdays” where we got drunk and dressed
in lingerie on Tuesdays. Oh, also, I was so hot at the time that I just didn’t
care who saw me naked, and poor Charis just learned to deal with it. This
stuck-up bitch Camilla once commented to Charis that she had just “seen [my]
vagina” upon walking past our dorm room door. Charis was like, yeah, that
happens. I also remember talking on the phone to someone and overhearing this
guy, Dennis, saying to Dara that I was the hottest girl on the floor. I also remember
putting E. E. Cummings poems on the back of the bathroom doors in the girls’
bathrooms, so ladies could read them while they peed. 😉
One time my crew and I all wanted to get blackout drunk,
don’t ask me why, and it was awful? I remember Kristin sitting on my floor
drinking coke mixed with rum/vodka/alcohol and chasing it with plain coke and then throwing
up on the bus on the way to the club. We had invited another tiny Asian girl, Mai, to roll with us that night and it did not go well. She never hung with us again... I don’t know what happened to anyone
else because I was so drunk I couldn’t walk or function and all I remember was
being carted home on a golf cart and saying over and over “Don’t tell my mom” to
Ella’s David. I ALSO remember once Charis peed in a trashcan on the first floor
because she thought it was a toilet. But beyond all this chicanery, there was
more serious perfidy afoot.
At some point the fool Aaron, who often walked around in
tights (under armor?), barefoot and bare-chested, started doing this thing where
he’d hump men and like make cawing noises? I guess he thought this was funny
and liked to do it? IDK why, but he did, and one time I was there for it. It
was super fucked up: he knocked some kid down who wasn’t from our floor and
proceeded to hump him wearing only these weird spandex pants and making those
insane sounds. Obviously, the kid was not down for this, and everyone was just
standing around, watching it happen. Now, this is how I know
I’m different, because I intervened. I pulled Aaron off the kid and was
like wtf bro. He was all dumb and incensed and yelling at me. I was like,
listen, you’re being gross and need to chill. The kid got up and called him a
rapist and stormed off. It was not cool. Then afterwards, Aaron and I had bad
blood, cuz he was a rapist asshole and I’m a hero. So he turned it into a
floor-wide thing. He started talking shit about me to everyone and I’ll admit,
it was my first inclination to do the same. But I realized that he looked a
fool and I was clearly in the right, so I just let him buzz around and make
himself look bad. I do remember David (the good one, Ella’s man) saying to
someone who later told me, that he really respected what I did. This was way
before any of us knew about the bystander effect, either.
Other stuff from Freshmen year: at some point me and Charis
and Kristin all went to the same fraternity formal. I don’t really know how it
happened, because I technically still had my LA boyfriend, but I ended up going
to the SAMMY formal with this absolute foolish tool Chris Wilcox. So, I think
he was like the third guy I ever slept with. The first was also named Chris, my
high school boyfriend, and the second was Mike Murdock. Ahhhh, Mike. He basically had the biggest dick I’ve ever fucked, I think. I didn’t know it at the time,
because I was so inexperienced, but it was HUGE. Not just long, but thick af. I
don’t know how we came to the point of doing it, but I do remember we decided
to watch The Empire Strikes Back on my computer in my dorm room and
ended up having very brief sex. He came almost immediately and I could tell he
was embarrassed about it. I didn’t super care, but I think it was a thing for
him, because years later we did it once more and he took much longer to finish,
and said something to the effect of: I hung in there longer than last time,
huh? But he was very pretty: long, luscious eyelashes, nice cheekbones, and
creamy, brown skin. Plus he was an architecture student, and everyone knew they worked the hardest of all the different schools, so like points for effort...
Anyway, after him came Chris Wilcox. Ugh. I don’t even know
how I got mixed up with this tool box, but I did. I remember he had a very long
but skinny dick, and thought a lot of himself. He was an art schooler, too, and
showed me this huge self portrait he once did of himself playing the guitar (so
original, Chris). He was like, “look at those fingers” when he showed
me, and I remember being distinctly unimpressed with his level of detail: it
was all very smushy and blurred. I also remember one time we were walking
together and he was talking to his ex gf on the phone and then he just randomly
veered away from me toward some grassy knoll and let me just keep walking by
myself. I ALSO remember he once told me this same ex gf had a "way better body
than me" but that my face was "better". Uh, thanks, Chris, for objectifying me and this unknown ex of yours, TO MY FACE... Anyway, we started
fucking and I guess he invited me to formal, because I went. Kristin went with
Aaron and Charis with the super hot, ho David. They were all in the same bogus,
druggy fraternity, SAMMY. There were really only two “cool” frats (no frats are
cool, guys) at Wash U: one was SAMMY and the other was ZBT, the Animal House
one. I think we called SAMMY SAMMY because its Greek letters were SAM or some
shit. But SAMMY was pretty cracked out with more assholes, and ZBT was more “proper”
and “clean”; although SAMMY did have a house on frat row proper, and for some reason
ZBT was off campus… I must mention, though, that there were NO sorority
houses at Wash U. WTF guys…
ANYWAY, I remember Chris and I rode with this older couple
to the SAMMY’s formal venue who did cocaine during the entire event and then
had nose bleeds on the way home. At the actual dance, there was this older, fat,
frat guy with no date who was wearing a tuxedo t-shirt and I was like wtf to
Chris, who responded that this guy had been in the frat so long that he didn’t
take formals seriously anymore. I don’t remember dancing or having fun or
anything at all from the dance proper. But back in the hotel room afterwards,
Chris tried to fuck me and for some reason I didn’t want to and when I got all
scared-looking like he was going to rape me, he got all offended that I would
even think that of him? IDK. But next door, I think Aaron and David had split a
room (why???) and apparently Kristin and Aaron were in the bathroom being sick
from drinking too much, while a drunk Charis lost her virginity to David. This
still makes me sad to think of because Charis was such a lovely, delicate,
flower of a girl who was deflowered in such a rancid way: her friend and her
friend’s date dry heaving in the adjacent bathroom while she was in some drunken
haze as some moron took her v card. ☹ Hate that. And for some reason, I feel at fault… IDK
why… I just feel like I turned Charis down the path that led her to this travesty…
Plus, later, when they were banging on the regular, there was a moment where David
was about to leave for a frat meeting or whatever, but Charis “wanted it” (or I
wanted her to want it? IDK) and I remember like trying to talk/shame David into
fucking Charis instead of going to his meeting on time. It was weird…
Other memories: cuddling was a thing. Girls and guys would
just cuddle, without hooking up. Charis and I would always try to cuddle with
this guy on our floor, Julian, who had nice bone structure and really nice
skin. His roommate, Willis, ended up telling us that he was a sociopath,
though. He would do some shit to Willis where he would like make him mad or
insult him and then just smile and leer as Willis got upset. I remember Willis
wrote this paper once about how Star Wars is racist and based it mostly on Jar
Jar Binks being a caricature of a black fool type. I also remember awkward
things about the triple rooms. So Ella and Betty were in a triple room with
this mousy girl, Sam. At first, Betty had no friends so Sam invited her home
with her for the holidays, like a nice person, because Betty couldn’t go back
to Hong Kong and the dorms closed during Christmas. After Betty became our
friend, however, she ignored Sam viciously, I guess because Sam reminded her of
a time when she was in need of social charity and this was incompatible with
Betty’s pride and self-image? But apparently it made their living arrangements
quite uncomfortable, Ella once told me.
As for the other triple, Kristin was part of that one. These
girls had procured a tv and futon and many people hung out in their room, but
that got weird, fast. For one thing, Kristin had come to Wash U
with some brawny Texas boyfriend, who often slept in her bed. This in itself
was not a problem, but the thing was, when this person went to sleep, he often
held his penis as he slept. We didn’t know why, but we all saw it happen, all
the time. This wasn’t the awkwardest thing, though. The most awkward thing was
once their triple room became a designated “hang out” space, people from other
floors started coming up; which would have been fine, except for this one guy.
I don’t know his name, but we all knew him, because he was big and Hagrid-like,
and awkward af. He would come up to you and be like, “Did you know an aroused
mouse will fuck anything it’s dick will fit into?”. And we’d all be like
“Cool…”. It was terrible. And this fool would come up to our floor, go
into Kristin and her roommates’ room, and just post up. Even if no one else was
there. Kristin said it would just be her and her two female roommates at
times, and this giant, misapprehending, distempered guy would just hang out
unnecessarily and uninvited for as long as he liked. I don’t know why no one
ever told him to get lost, but no one did.
I remember the demise of my and this Chris Wilcox’s “relationship”
was a thing. I don’t even know why I fucked with him, but I did. We would get
high and I would do shit like clean his room. Also, one time when I was being
crazy, young, and thin, I wore this like, Amazon woman costume to Bauhaus, the
architecture school’s annual dance party, which basically included me wearing
this leather bra I’d gotten at Dragon Con earlier that year, and a belt with
black pillowcases draped over it, Slave Leia style. So I was basically naked.
Anyway, when I went to the dance, no one would dance with me or even come near
me (because I was just “too much” I guess), except Chris, who did this insane
thing where he “danced” with me by like screwing up his face to act like he was
being so cool and thought I was so sexy and he was concentrating on that? IDK
but he looked dumb, and he was like all wide-stanced and far from me for trying
to “dance” with me. It was weird. We also had 3D together and were kinda this
obvious, salient, designated “couple” in it. But that shit all ended,
dramatically and publicly, once he screamed at me during sex once.
It was awful and still one of the worst times I’ve ever
gotten laid: we were fucking and I was on top, ridding him, and I stopped, as
women do when they’re tired on top, and the man screamed at me
not to stop, like I was doing something to him. It
was way fucked up and I immediately got off his dumb, thin dick and told him to
get the fuck out. He was like all mad and dumb and incensed and screamed as he
left that “this was the worst thing you could do to a guy”. I was like: I. Do.
Not. Care. GET OUT, BITCH. And he left, and thus the least romantic romance I
was ever in ended. As we still had class together we still saw each other and
ended up making art about each other that everyone was like whoaaa about. For
our final 3D project, we had to make some sort of display for memories of our
first year of college. It was a pretty cool idea, actually, by the badass
professor, Ms. Stouffer, but he and I took it way wrong. I made this dumb, shoddy, hot air
balloon thing out of layers of foam and patterned paper, whose basket I filled
with random shit. When I presented it, I remember I had tied some male doll
figurine to it like ballast and I said something like: this represents me
letting go of men, or some dumb shit. He had made a big, dumb podium thing that
“presented” trashy dumb shit as if it were like, important and at a museum or
something. And some of it was literal trash, like this little empty packet of
lube we had used that they used to give out to us freshmen (why?). Fag.
This reminds me: my school was nuts in their attitude toward
illicit stuff for freshmen. Like that: they handed out/made readily available
condoms and lube and STD testing, which is good, but like ? Me and Charis
thought this was sooo funny and we swiped a bunch of condoms and taped them to
our dorm room door, which was already decorated with this weird coloring book
page I’d torn out that was supposed to be Old Faithful, the timely geyser, but
looked more like a giant dick. LOL. It’s funny to think that when I heard
Lauren describe Charis as “kind of a slut”, I was shocked. Wash U was also crazy
lenient about alcohol consumption for minors like all us freshmen. I guess they
just didn’t care? Really, though, I’m pretty sure they wanted us all to drink
because Anheuser Busch donated buildings to the school and shit… Ahhhh, St.
Louis…
Other memories: I had this fake, white, fur coat I would wear all the time lol. Once it came in very handy when we stole jugs of cheap vodka from ZBT. I hid the nasty booze inside/under my coat as we sashayed out of the frat and giggled our way back to the dorms, elated with our “get away”. I also remember for some dress up party, of which there were many, the evilly hot David wore my coat with nothing under it and was appropriately a pimp. In addition, I lent him rings for all his fingers that I had in great supply because when I was like 13, I used to sell these cheap, silver, Mexican rings in Atlanta on the streets. I have a funny memory of this: once upon a time I was selling rings at Gay Pride and this dude asked me if I had cock rings, being 13 I was like ummmm, what’s a cock ring? Also, this giant lesbian bought the biggest “poison ring” I had, because she explicitly said she wanted to hide coke in it… Aaaaaanyway, I told David it was no big deal if he lost any of the rings, as I had so many, but when he came back that night and returned like 8 of them and apologized, I said I’d expected it, and then he got all offended and huffy, like I always expected the worst of him; and I was like look, bro, I thought you’d lose some rings and you did, so who’s the bad guy here?
Dressing up was a big thing in college. I remember once I
dressed up like a slutty school girl and went to the frat party alone??? IDK
why, but I ended up taking a picture with the giant Lauren, who had gone for
goofy over sexy, because, you know, that’s what she was. I remember when I
posted the pic on Facebook (tiny plaid skirt, tall black boots, tied-up,
midriff-bearing, white-collared shirt) this guy from summer camp I’d had a huge
crush on commented like “Wow”. I feel like there were another few words that
implied I was being a slut, but I didn’t care: I looked hot and by then, I was
pretty ok being a slut. I also remember I would dress up other people a lot: I
specifically remember dressing up this very basic, thin, blonde girl Michelle,
as a Greek goddess type by wrapping her in a golden sheet and lending her my
golden laurel crown thing I’d bought in high school when I’d chosen to be a
Greek person myself for Decades Day (yeah, I didn’t give a fuck in high
school, as Decades Day is usually reserved for the 60's and 80's not like, the BC era...). I also remember doing the stuck-up Camilla’s hair into this fun, twisty bun I'd learned in high school. I also remember
Camila was in fashion and had interned for like Teen Vogue and had acquired a
few nice clothes there. I borrowed one of these, a shirt, and when I returned
it, I left it outside her dorm room door. I thought I had folded it ok, but
later she reamed me about “disrespecting her property” or whatever. I was like,
bitch chill, but was also secretly a bit scared: Camila was fairly pretty, blond,
tall, fashionable, and shared a name with an “important” person. She was also
“popular”, or at least as much as you can be in college.
It was weird: there were four girls who banded together immediately because I guess they could smell that the others had been popular in high school. Camila, Sophie, Lauren, and Dara. So, yeah, Camila was a stuck up bitch and would prove to continue to be; Lauren was the goofy, stoner, art-schooler who was more my “friend” than any of these other girls; Dara was extremely whatever and all I remember about her was her petting my head that time I tried to pretend to know about sexual consent, her having super thin fingers, and her being the person Dennis told I was the hottest person on the floor to. Sophie was a white girl with a huge ass who once burned like 1,000 calories on the stair master and kinda had a six-pack for a minute. She told me that black guys would see her and be like yeah, and then she would turn around or pass by and they’d be like DAMN! She was also the first person to tell me about Pandora and the conflict in the middle east. We also got the same SAT score. I would occasionally go to the tanning bed with these girls, or shopping, or to smoke hookah, but they always kinda ignored me. I didn’t super care because I was prettier than all of them and so were my friends… 😉
I remember me and Charis and Betty decided to throw a
Christmas party that year we called the Ice Ball or the Snowball Party or some
shit. We served Lemon Drops and bought real Chambord and “good” vodka. I
remember I wore this green, plaid, strapless dress I borrowed from Ania, a girl
on my floor who turned out to be a lesbian. I guess that was back when we were
all the same size and could do stuff like that. I wore this fun gold and emerald
choker necklace I rarely got to wear because it was just so specific, but it
looked great and I had fun. I remember someone commenting on how our whole
floor had come and how they were “proud”, as if it meant something that
everyone who lived two feet away from us had come to drink our free booze lol. Someone
also took a pretty iconic picture of me and Jeff, my next-door-neighbor, Jewish, stoner guy friend who couldn’t dance. When it was posted on Facebook, Willis did this
funny, cute, comment thing where he was acting like someone was radioing us as
if we were cops, calling us like Officer Moore and Officer Less (Jeff’s last
name was Lesser). I loved it and obviously still remember it.
Also, since I was smoking up a fucking storm, and I was
kinda the ring leader, so were my actual friends. I would sit in the dorm hall
on the floor and roll my joints for the night. Someone took a picture of me
doing this and then the joints and posted it on Facebook and Ella commented:
“Look at those happy little joints!” and it was eventually removed. But yeah,
even delicate, proper Charis smoked weed with us. We liked to sit in the back
of the club bus and get high before we went out dancing; and one time, when we
were lighting one of these joints some night on the bumpy ride to the disco, we
lit Charis’ hair on fire. LOL, it was nuts. I’m not sure who exactly did it,
but I think it was probably me since I was the master of marijuana ceremonies
basically at all times. I guess we were already kinda fucked up because as soon
as Charis’ hair went up in flames and then died out quickly thereafter, she was
like uh… did y'all just light my hair on fire? Betty and I quickly looked at
one another and were like, No way, Charis! You’re so fucked up! as the smell of
charred hair floated around us… Ahhhh, sweet, sweet gaslighting…
There was also this really amazing, fun, eccentric place in
St. Louis called City Museum, whose name just does not do it justice nor convey
how very cool it is. So, basically, this “crazy” guy designed this huge,
interactive, art piece/adult playground in downtown STL out of some old
abandoned building. Some features: giant, painted, crazy, adult-sized slides, a
huge fucking whale sculpture you could crawl all around and under, fish tanks,
all manner of weird shit, an art room, a café/sitting area, and at the top of
the building, was this huge school bus, painted all crazy and sitting
side-saddle, nutso-askew on the roof. It was just many levels and floors of fun
and art and wild-ass imaginings of this man. Basically, a great place to trip
or be high. So we would do that there. It was great fun and someone took a
picture of me trying to walk up out of this like concrete bowl-type feature in
my grey skinny jeans and this mint colored t-shirt with red hearts on it I’d
gotten at Urban Outfitters. It was, of course, posted on Facebook, and I
remember Betty commented: “Macy being a tool”. Ok, lets talk for a moment about
skinny jeans. So this was 2006, right when skinny jeans were coming in. For
some reason, I got up on this trend QUICK. As in, when I went to college, all I
brought were my brand new skinny jeans. Before that, it had been boot-cut all
the way and I remember when I saw this really alternative girl wearing black
skinny jeans in high school, I thought she looked insane. But, soon thereafter,
I got on the skinny train. Charis and less fashionably-inclined people
were still rocking the boot-cuts at first in '06, but eventually, we all got skinny.
I also remember there was like this very archetypal, iconic
dress I wore all the time that people began to associate me with. It wasn’t
expensive or anything, but it was just really cute and very salient. All it was
was a red, jersey, empire-waist, mid-thigh, little dressy dress with white
polka dots and a cowl neck. I normally hate cowl neck stuff, but this was a
very slight cowl and it looked ok. I wore this dress all the fucking time and
usually paired it with cat-eye eyeliner and white glitter eyeliner in the inner
corners of my eyes. Once, Charis wore it and evil-hot David was like, confused,
because he said he was so used to seeing me in it. I also had this white, silky
dress from Armani Exchange that formed an X in the back with gold beads
threaded on the white silk straps. I thought it was so beautiful and it was. I
remember my dumb, high school, California boyfriend visited me once and I wore
this dress the big night we hung out. We didn’t do much, really, but hang out
on my floor and get a little drunk. People remembered us, though, as just kinda
dancing around the whole night. We took a picture of us kissing that night and
for a while I used it as my Facebook photo and someone commented like
“Whoohoo!”.
Ok, let’s talk about food. So the main place we got food was
very whatever. There was like subpar pasta, ok pizza, and a salad bar,
which I super utilized once I realized I was getting a little fat (I wasn’t). I
would get chicken salad with mandarin oranges and battle myself each time
between grilled or fried chicken, fried winning out most days because it was
just so, so much better. I also ate a bunch of Fruit Loops all the time and I
would sit out in the hall of our dorm, outside my room, and eat them. But beyond all
this non-glory, there was this other, more “expensive” place above the whatever
café, where you could eat all you wanted of like, real, good food. I say
“expensive” because it was all meal points that our parents paid for or
whatever, so who cares, right? This place was lit and like, made for stoners.
The breakfasts were especially enticing. You would roll up hung over and high
and eat you way through crisp, golden waffles, hot eggs, fatty, delicious bacon
and whatever else. It was a thing to steal Danishes from this place, lol.
Besides these places on the 40 (what we called the freshmen area of campus
after the 40 dorms there?) there were other bougier delights.
There was a literal creperie on the 40. As in, a place where
they made fresh crepes. For us; for me. High, dumb, drunk college
students. There were savory crepes that were like a meal, with meat and cheese
and spinach, and sweet ones that were not, with stuff like sweet cream cheese
(!!!), chocolate syrup, and strawberries. This place was AMAZING and the
highlight of the foodscape of my freshmen year, for sure. I would just like to
watch them make the crepes. They poured thin batter onto this huge, black
circle/grill thing and then spread it out evenly with this little, wooden, T-shaped utensil. It was just so, so great and an appropriate perk for paying $50,000 a
year for “education”. In addition, there was a fucking specialty hot chocolate
shop next door. It was nuts: college student crack, right? Imagine you’re high
as fuck and you get the munchies and you’re like hmmmm, what should we eat? AND
THEN… you remember that your fancy-ass school has provided you with the perfect
solution to this dilemma: a creperie and a hot chocolate bar. I mean, did we
die and go to heaven? No, we got high and ate sugar, but similar!!!!
Ok, time to bring it down from that insane high. One time,
freshmen year, I got super rejected. Or maybe not “super” but it was definitely
rejection. So, the art school at Wash U has/had? this super fabulous, insane
party each year called Art Prom. You basically try to look as crazy and hot as
possible: it’s great. So my freshmen year I had been into this Sophomore guy
called Alejandro I’d seen around the art school who I thought was so, so hot
and so, so deep because he had some Buddhist scroll necklace or some shit. I
think he thought I was like dumb and shallow but humored me because my face is
nice? Who knows, but I found him at Art Prom and like attached myself to him.
At one point we were standing outside and I was waiting with him to go home with him and fuck him and, like,
clinging to his arm, as my friends super insistently tried to wave me back over
to them. I was so “enamored” with hot, deep Alejandro (one of my little camp
boyfriends was named same so I thought it was a “sign” lol/sigh…) that I was
like nah, ladies, I’m with HIM. He couldn’t shake me, so he took me back to his way-cool, older-person, off-campus place, but immediately drove me back to the 40 once he had access to his car.
It’s almost certain, though no one ever told me so, that he was like, signaling
my friends over my besotted head to come get me or at least persuade me to get
off of him outside the party. LOL. But yeah, Alejandro, who was white and blonde? and I never
hooked up or really saw each other again…
I remember Christmas that year: I was closest to Betty and
Charis at this time so it was to them that I gave presents, and I kinda fucked
it up. I remember thinking Betty was like, wealthy, and so would expect quality
gifts; while Charis was just middle class, so I could kinda phoned it in for her. :\ So I ended up getting Charis this dumb box of tea because she was always
drinking tea: it looked ok, it was kinda wood with little squares for each
different type of tea and wrapped kinda nice and shit, but I’d gotten it at
like TJ Maxx and it was essentially cheap. However, for Betty I got her nice
shit, I can’t remember all what, but one thing was this totally decent blanket.
Basically, I spent way more on Betty’s gift. After Charis gave me my gift, I
felt terrible about this, though Betty had done both of us right and gotten us
vintage Fendi scarves… But Charis had not only gotten me nice stuff, she had
color coordinated it, as well: she had gotten me purple things which was actually so
cute and nice and sweet. She got me this big, violet cocktail ring I kept
forever and a purple dress and I think something else. I felt awful about my
totally inadequate gift of cheap tea, but she didn’t seem to mind… I still have the flat, orange, Fendi box Betty gave me the scarf in that year, thought I have since lost the scarf...
I remember everyone except the engineering students at Wash
U had to take Writing I, mainly because the real form of evaluation and
conveyance of ideas in college is the
paper. So we all took it, which was fun, because the classes were a real
cross-section of disciplines. I remember in mine, I sat next to a girl who once
lauded Kate Moss and I was like, but she did cocaine… and the girl was like yeah… Ok a quick story about coke: I
actually didn’t do it my freshmen year, I did it the summer after off a toilet
seat in an Italian night club (cuz I’m just that classy), but I tried real hard
one night freshmen year. It was WILD, a student-sponsored concert that was supposed to mean
Walk In Lie Down, but really was just an excuse to use up the student budget on
mid-level bands, get really drunk, and pretend to care about the music while
you tried to get laid. Twas dumb, but that year, I decided I wanted to do coke before
WILD. So I went where people got coke when they don’t know where to get coke:
the frats. Which frat? SAMMY, of course: the dirty, scummy, druggie frat my
dumb exish person Chris Wilcox was from. So, being dumb, I went there and asked
around, then sort of demanded around, then tried to bargain with some idiot, telling
him I’d pay him $20 for a line, wherein he said he wasn’t going to take
advantage of me like that. I was like FINE, so I raided the house for bud,
found some in a guy’s grinder, and stole some of it. Not all, cuz no one likes
to have NO bud, and I’m a considerate thief. :D
However, later, in the print lab at the art school, Chris
Fuckwad comes up to me and in front of all the people there is like: “You can’t
just come into my frat and ask for blow”. To which I responded: “OK” and then
went about my business. He felt he had not made enough of a scene, so he berated
me some more, and I was also like “OK” and eventually he left. And thus, I did
not do blow my freshmen year of college; but this did not stop me from being
scandalized earlier in the year that Kate Moss had, and that my classmate
could overlook this. So, anyway, memories of Writing I: our first real paper
was a visual analysis paper on whatever we wanted. This should have made me
feel good, coming from the art school as I was, but I was terrified. I chose
some politicalish cartoon about Hurricane Katrina with some guy on a raft and
something something. I reviewed my ideas with Ms. Oppenheimer, the small but bad bitch teacher,
and she lead me through the finer points of this process of analyzing visuals.
I actually had fun, but was so afraid of failing or something that once the paper
had been graded and returned, I refused to pick mine up. Eventually, this
became a thing, and Ms. Oppenheimer had to tell me to go get my paper, or else.
IDK what the "or else" would have been, but I picked my paper up, held my breath,
and beheld the "A" at the top of the paper. I released my breath, and felt
adequate.
I also remember a time when we were doing literary analysis. Ms. Oppenheimer was talking about the Tiny Dancer song and how the part about “blue jean
baby” emphasized the letter B, which was a babyish sound and therefore brought
out the childlike nature of whatever. This darkly featured, sort of fratish guy,
literally called her analysis “bullshit”, out loud, which people were all
probably thinking a bit, because when you begin to begin any deep analysis, when you’re
like, learning the process and how it works and the fundamentals of reference
and mirroring and all the fun analytical aspects of understanding a thing, it does seem like bullshit at first. And
most normie, dumb fucks would agree with bullshit douche dude. But smart,
subtle, analytical people know that you can say a lot of other things than just
what you’re saying with how you say it and when you say it and other aspects of
how it’s said. Anyway, Ms. Oppenheimer, who was a bad bitch and wasn’t going to
take shit off of anyone, especially some snot-nose freshmen puke like this guy,
just went really quiet and stared at him until he literally squirmed. Then she
said all dangerously low, “Mr. Snot-Nose Freshmen Puke, please see me after
class”. It was glorious, and instilled in us all that literary analysis was
serious, and NOT at all bullshit.
I remember I would have skype sex with my dumb,
long-distance, high school boyfriend, which consisted of me pretending to
masturbate in front of the camera on my iMac or whatever. I remember once I was
like hey Charis, I’m going to have sex with my boyfriend now, so could you,
like, leave? It was gross and terrible, but you do what you have to for a dumb,
high school, long-distance relationship to not work out. I also remember one
time I was super high and I had just ordered a red thong off eBay (IDK) and I
had put it over my boxer shorts, I think. Charis thought this was so funny, she
told me to share this glorious sight with Jeff and Varun, so I decided to do just that. I ran out of our room, into
the hallway, and into their room next door, high as fuck, in a red
thong-over-boxers getup, and proceeded to dance a pelvic –thrusty type dance in
the middle of their dorm room, just for shits n giggles. Which there was half
of that. Ahhhh, sweet, sweet insanity… Another random memory: Betty, my crazy
friend from Hong Kong, was cheating on her boyfriend with this tall, silly
Korean guy for a while or something. Eventually, he left her or whatever, and
she was crying in her bed about it. I came in to talk to her and she tried to
play it off like she felt so badly about cheating on her “boyfriend” Robin with
this person, that it made her cry. I was like ok, Betty, sure, and I held her
as she cried her baby Chinese heart out. Later, after college, I tried again to
offer a should for her to digitally cry on over Facebook about something sad for her, and she displayed the
same distempered insistence on being “strong” and not “weak” when she was
clearly sad about something and ignored me…
At the tail end of freshmen year, I got with this Jewish guy with a micropenis. I did not know it at the time, but I think it was. I can’t even remember his name, but we met through this guy who wore dresses in one of my writing classes. I also remember some black girl in there introducing me to the idea of a “non-gendered” person in her stories. She had written at the outset of her piece a little note about it, referring to her main character as Zim or Zer or something. I guess this was back before non-binary was a thing and we hadn’t come up with they/them yet. Anyway, this must have just been a gender-bender-y class cuz this other guy just started wearing dresses one day. Like, he had long hair, and was a bit fem, but he wore dude clothes, then one day he showed up to class in a dress, and it was pretty much dresses thereafter for him. I don’t know why or how, but he and I became friends. And then he introduced me to his roommate, the Jewish micropenis guy. I don't even remember his name; probably because all we did was get high and listen to Bob Dylan (so original, guyssssss). We would also take Ambien but stay up, which he taught me was a way to kinda "trip"; we tended to watch House while we did this, also don't know why. I remember the sex was ok for what he was working with. The girly dress-wearing guy had taught him cunnilingus so it wasn't bad. Apparently this dude wanted to be a woman so much that he loved pussy so much that he would go down on any chick, anywhere, anytime. Like, babes just be callin' this bitch to come eat it then split. He told me he'd been with 30 people and asked me to guess how many of them were guys and how many of them were girls. I just couldn't say, having never been presented with that sort of decision. He told me it went right down the middle: 15 girls and 15 guys. I'm not sure how old he was, he was definitely older than me, but, like, still in college. So, while I wasn't aghast that he was so experienced or anything, I was like howwww?????
Anyway, micropenis could eat it just fine and that's a lot of what we did. I don't think I could suck it much because, ya know, it was like a tampon and didn't improve much when it was hard. But I never said anything and really, I hardly knew it was "abnormal" because he was like the fourth guy I'd ever fucked. I just thought sometimes they were that small. It wasn't too bad, I just rode the fuck outta him, and every woman knows, that's perfectly acceptable at times. I remember one specific time we were in some semi-private room with these tapered couches or something, on the first floor of his dorm building. So it was kinda like public sex, IDK. I just remember at one point we were talking about a relationship, and he was all, I don't do that mushy shit, then I looked at him or something cute? and melted his hard Jewish heart, and he was like, ok maybe I do... But I don't feel like we were in a relationship after that or anything... IDK.
I DO remember one time, one of his roommates walked in on us while he was going down on me and like, froze and just observed the scene until he was like, DUDE, get out!!! I also remember he was learning to play the harmonica, like a real one, with like layers of those little box-shaped tunnel things you blow into. He was paying someone (who???) to teach him how to play, which only made him better with his mouth, so I was all for it. He had a balcony, too, which came in handy for smoking the reefer, though, of course, we could smoke inside, too. I think he was in an older-person dorm. One time though, at night, some guy was walking by and whistling like, really well. My micropenis Jew thought he knew this person because he knew someone else who could whistle that well, so he called out his guys's name to this other guy. The guy did not respond and kept it moving and kept whistling expertly or whatever. My guy was convinced, however, that this whistling fool was his whistling friend, and he continued to call out to this guy, using his friend's name. Eventually, the real whistler was like "No, bro! I'm not him! Leave me alone!" and then we all felt dumb. The end.
