Coast to College

‘Murica

SATURDAY

7:04 pm—Go on a run and purchase America Budweiser bottles (as if I would buy anything else..) and don my American Flag shorts, bandana, and bag. It’s AMERICUHH mixer time baby. 

9:45 pm—Finish six pack at pre game and head to our first mixer of the year. 

11:00 pm—After chanting USA countless times, stumble out of Americaland and head to a bar with a different frat. Take a shot when I arrive and call the freshman from my high school to invite him to come out. 

11:34 pm--Take over the dance floor with random frat guy. People start applauding. 

11:37 pm—Freshman from high school arrives and TOTALLY COCKBLOCKS dancing frat guy.

11:40 pm—Determined not to get cock-blocked, ditch Freshman and leave bar with dancing frat friend.

11:53 pm—Go to next bar and immediately start swing dancing again. 

SUNDAY

1:30 am—Arrive at frat boys apartment. 

4:22 am—Leave frat boys apartment. Leave name and number on a post-it on desk. 

4:42 am— Finally get home after being turned down by four cabs. My taxi driver and I talked about Chuck Norris.

7:50 am—Alarm goes off.

9:00 am—Leave my apartment. Head to library to meet girls to go to New Jersey.

9:05 am—Get picked up in a white stretch limousine. Get handed a bottle of white wine by the driver. Cheers!!

9:35—Lurk Facebook to figure out who I was with last night. Turns out he was dating a girl who just disaffiliated from my sorority. Accidentally friend request frat boy. Immediately cancel request. I am a crazy stalker. Fuck my life. 

12:00 pm—GO SURFING IN NEW JERSEY. Ride a wave backwards while sitting on the tail with a shaka in the air. I am a bro.

3:00 pm—Go do Jewish stuff for the New Year.

MONDAY

9:30 am—Go to school all day.

10:47 pm—Receive call from random number.

10:48 pm—Answer call.

11:07 pm—Finish call. 

IT WAS FRAT BOY. 

Snaps,

Ginger

First Dates Make Excellent Stories

Today my friend C went on a little stroll in Audubon Park with a guy named J (regardless of what she says, it was a date). While on their stroll they thought it would be nice to sit on a bench near the pond. In the midst of conversation, they heard a noise. Emerging from the bushes, dreads & all, was a naked homeless man who decided that that exact moment was an appropriate time to take a dip. Right in front of the bench that my friends were sitting on. In broad daylight. In a park that is in a very upscale community of New Orleans. And when he emerged from the pond, he took out a pipe from his bag, started smoking, and asked them how their day was. Still naked.

That is all.

Ragin’ Cajun Style,

Hooters

A Product of the ’60s

Instead of spending my time frolicking down the avenues of New York City during welcome week, I drove five hours into Vermont to celebrate the wedding of my Great Uncle—as in my mother’s uncle. 

Since he was getting married to his childhood crush (they both are divorced with kids and grandkids but rekindled the romance at a neighborhood reunion), there was much celebrating going on. 

So much celebrating, that after an innocent brunch with my Great Uncle, he happened to forget his joint in my family’s car. 

My older cousins and all three of my Great Uncles proceeded to have a “pot party”, as my father would call it, that night before the wedding. 

MAZEL TOV!

Snaps,

Ginger

The Naked Suitemate

When one of my suitemates, K, wakes up this morning she calls me into her room and asks, “What can you tell me about my night? Like when you saw me?” 

So I tell her: When I saw you, you were bent over the toilet. I felt bad & decided to grab you some water. When I went into your room to drop it off, the guy you were planning to hook up with was waiting for you. I said hi & he asked where you were. I walk back into the bathroom to check on you, & I find you standing butt naked near the stall! You wave at me & walk back into your room.  

To get to her current state she: chugged a Four Loko before heading into the Quarter to check out Southern Decadence (*huge gay festival here, google it!), went to a gay bar (took shots), then a strip club, then came back to her room to smoke a joint (& take more shots) & then went out again after. Looking around her room, we find a) the guy’s boxers b) mysterious white powder on her bedside table (of which she has no recollection) c) that she has a massive hangover. 

SKETCHY

Ragin’ Cajun Style,

Hooters

Breakfast with the Locals

Where: Trolley Stop Café

Description: The owner addressed customers as: “Miss/Mr.”, “Shugahhh” or “Honey” (say it out loud in a Southern accent & you get the picture). Families filed in wearing their Sunday best while gossiping about who was or wasn’t going to jail (is that normal Sunday morning conversation around here?), the upcoming hurricane, and where to get their hair done around town (If you’ve ever seen The Real Housewives of Atlanta you know that these women will not be frequenting the local Supercuts.). 9:45 am and people are already drinking beer. I kid you not. 

What happens next: In the middle of eating, we hear the owner shouting at someone who had just walked in. “You know what! You know what! I respect you for wearing that jersey in here.” Sounded like a brawl was about to go down, but it was just some outsider wearing Alabama gear. Five minutes later we hear it again, “Oh no you best not be wearin’ that in here!!! OHHHHH NO!!!” After laughing along with the waitress and the rest of the diners, she admits, “I think I paid for my season passes (to see the Saints) before I paid for my property taxes.” She pauses & then says, “Mmmmmmmhmmmm priorities around here…” SAINTS OR BUST Y’ALL. 

Ragin’ Cajun Style,

Hooters

I Do?

This past Monday I was interning at the Great Bridal Expo, taking photo’s of my marketing companies new wine brand. It was the first time I met my boss since the company is based in LA. During the event, we decided to walk around and scout out the competition. 

There were models dressed in white lingerie, photographers, make-up and hair artists, DJs, and my favorite, the male strippers advertising for bachelorette parties.

Owners of every booth shouted “Congrats on your engagement!” as we walked by.

Once we got to the male strippers, who were also handing out creme puffs, things just got strange. 

After congratulating us on our engagement, the stripper told me I could take as many creme puffs as I wanted and to “enjoy the creme” ;). My boss proceeded to play along that we were getting engaged and took their flyer. 

I’m too young to be getting married.

Snaps, 

Ginger

spontaneity at its finesty

My roomie and I decided after we got out of class on friday afternoon that we were going to take a road trip. it had been in the talks for a while but we didn’t think we’d actually do it. Should we go to LA or Vegas? At 12:50pm on friday we decided LA it is! Ran home through stuff in a suitcase, got in the car and drove to LA. It was a great weekend with no agenda. nothing to do, no where to be except for what we want when we want. we surprised our brothers, they had no idea. it was epic.

nothing too exciting to share from the weekend, but just a word of advise. Take a weekend and do something awesome, have no agenda and don’t let anyone tell you what to do. today is monday and I feel so great after a spontaneous weekend. 

love and miss all my c2c girls. looking forward to some spontaneous road trips this summer. xoxo

stay classy y’all 

mom

The College Nightmare Came True

So maybe it’s just me, but there are times where I have dreams about being late for school or a test or something important but I can’t seem to make myself move or get there on time (because I’m sleeping in bed…) and therefore I miss the test and fail or something of the sort.  It came true.

Last week, my teacher (a vicious full-blood Italian) literally said “Anyone who misses the final will fail this class. Make sure you show up at 9am sharp to take the test and turn in your final project books.” I, naturally, scoff at the idea of anyone who would be so irresponsible or stupid to be late or miss the final. But in my defense, there were other circumstances…

Cal Poly’s finals are this week and Daylight Savings decided to be a real bitch and crash the party. Sunday night’s time change completely threw me off, and I never set my alarm for the right time for my Monday 9am final.

I wake up to a phone call buzz from my friend in my class. It’s 9:30am. I think I literally jumped off my skyscraper-high top bunk and flew to her office because failing this particular class would throw my entire schedule off by A WHOLE FUCKING YEAR so to say the least I was THAT Freshman sprinting across campus.

I run into her office, close to tears, and she gives me a hug(She is capable of hugs?!) and completely excused me. “I cancelled the written portion of the test, but I just wanted to see if you all could show up on time” ………I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because I was so relieved that after all this, I still got full-credit.

 SO for all you lovelies who have finals coming up, set 2 alarms. Or 3. Or just make sure your clock is set correctly. Because I’ll never live down how much of an idiot I must’ve looked publically & walking into her office barely dressed with my glasses and retainers still in…

We’re just friends,

ELLE Girl