Finals Week: Spoiler Alert, I Got An "F" in Love

My boyfriend recently broke up with me (and by recently I mean four days ago) and I'm being surprisingly calm about it.  Is it the calm before the storm?  Is it my new "zen" personality?  Do I just give zero fucks?
I can never figure out what is going on in my mind until I write it out, so why not do that shit publicly so any poor bastard can stumble upon it?  YES!

We have been having our differences, as any couple does, and I'll spare you all of the boring details.  It boils down to lack of communication (doesn't it always) and us being in a long distance relationship.  However, things took a real turn when he saw the new apartments that I'm going to be living in next year.  It's a gorgeous complex with a pool, hot tub, grills, game room, walk in closets; it's really the works.  I'm in love with it.  His attitude towards the impending school years changed as he saw that I want to live a rich life.  And I won't deny that shit, I want to make money and look like it too.  I've seen my parents struggle paycheck to paycheck and that isn't the life I want for myself or my future family.

So basically it's been three weeks since we saw the apartment and everything has been off.  I've been with the guy for 10, almost 11 months.  I know when shit is going down.  And this Friday, he broke up with me.
Let me first explain that it is currently finals week which means that I will be home in seven god damn days. He couldn't hold in this information for a week until my exams were over and we could talk face to face.
And what was this grand break up?  Well, it was him saying that he "doesn't love me the same."  His inspired speech contained, "I'm 25, I need to settle down" and "I don't want to struggle for the next two years.  I just don't see us going anywhere."  The really cherry was, "I still want to be friends.  You're the only girl I've ever wanted to stay friends with.  You're my longest relationship."

And we didn't finish this lovely conversation because I had to go to a meeting, but I haven't heard from him since.
I get mad every time I think about it, and I don't want to be that super clingy blind girl, but I think it's all a bold faced lie.  I think he's scared that he'll lose me and he wants to end it all before it gets any deeper.  Or maybe he really doesn't love me any more.  I really just can't focus or think of anything (like my motherfucking finals) when we haven't ended our conversation.  When I just let my jaw drop as I thought of all the things we've been though.
And the settle down thing is a joke, I won't bother to explain why, just trust me.


Okay, well that was just me explaining....that thing I said I wouldn't do in the beginning.  Oh well.  I can't figure any of this out, but I'll be damned if  I shed any tears for a silly confused boy who doesn't appreciate the driven, funny, smart, and generous chick in front of him.

Night, ya'll

Permanent Ink

I asked him to, "hold my hand better damn it!"

"You are missing from me."

The tattoo fever is real.  My best friend and I got our tattoos a few months ago in memory of Rachel, and it hurt like a bitch but they look great.  I'm already ready to get some more, but I'm trying to pace myself.  Also it's a lotta dollas $$$

xoxo

Growing Pains

Is the future really that important?  By expecting positive and exciting things we set ourselves up for potential failure, so is it worth it?  Why plan, cry, or worry about things we can't control?
I stress myself sick about my future.  I'll be halfway done with college soon and I still don't know what I want to do with my life.  I still love laying in bed all day and I can't help but turn up my nose at the idea of a 9 to 5 full time job.
Next year I'll be paying for an apartment, I'll have to get yet another job (I did apply for one though the school this time too), and I need a car to get around in.  My boyfriend is panic-stricken at the idea of me moving on, he thinks we won't last another year of long distance, despite the fact we see each other almost every weekend.

Growing up is hard.
Remember when we were kids and 18 seemed so far away.  When I was in elementary I just wanted boobs and to be able to see myself in the bathroom sink mirror.  The older I get the faster time seems to move and there is no slowing it down.  And I have high expectations for my life, where I want to travel and live.  I have a dream image of what my house will look like, how I'll raise my kid, all of it.
And is my current boyfriend my last?  How will I know when cut him lose, or when to attach myself for good?

When I get my crystal ball and my magic abilites (due in the mail any day now) I'll be back with answers.  Until then I'll just hang out here and fret. Awesome.

What The What

So I think my lack of blog posts is a sign of healing and doing well.  It means that I'm getting out of my room and far enough away from my laptop to go out and do things.  It's much better than lying in my bed and feeling blue all the time.  Although I do still have those days...
^that's my way of apologizing/not apologizing for no posts in a while, in case you couldn't tell.

In other news, I have yet another new roommate.  I really like this one though.  She's bright and happy and she's actually very similar to myself.  Her birthday is even the day right after mine.  She has heart to hearts with me and she's very down to earth.
I'm also quitting my job at Subway!  Talk about depressing, I really hated that job.  I still have two weeks, but it's a relief to know the time is almost up.  I enjoy working for my money, I honestly do, but for shit pay and a lot of work, it wasn't worth it.  I have to give it up to anyone trying to get by on minimum wage, because that shit is near impossible.

Also, I have to do a group project for one of my classes and I had a girl from that group take me home.  Best. Idea. Ever.  She was hilarious and weird, two of my favorite combinations.  She also moved cones out of the way to drive though a "closed" street and I about made my new best friend then and there, haha.  I love anyone who is brave enough to bend rules like that for themselves.  People who walk the strait and narrow all the time drive me crazy (and not in a fun way).  Just a little reminder that you can find fun and new people even when you least expect it.  No one has high hopes when group work is called upon, but positives can lurk around any corner.

xoxo,
Gossip Girl
(I've been on a Gossip Girl bender, lmao)

The Survivor

I have a date with time, she's plucking my strings
and making me sing.
Hateful bitch.
I'm not in her league yet she fucks with me,
next to me
She steals the other sock
But only long enough for me to throw
the survivor out.

And she's a gold-digger, one hand
in my back pocket leaving nicotine
prints.
Even though I'm not a smoker,
She takes me to the bar
And makes me write her a song.
Why is time woman?

Because we create life
In the womb we also create her
tick tick tick
Life isn't a date,
Cigarettes,
Love,
Hate,
Finding your father,
Or Jesus.

It's dirty back pockets
Being able to breathe in death,
And survive
To pluck the strings
To lose the sock
tick tock.

The "D" Word

Almost two weeks ago I went to visit the doctor.  I hadn't been in a while and I needed to set up with a steady doctor who wasn't a pediatrician, so I thought I'd go ahead with it while I was on Christmas break.  Physically I'm totally fine, I hardly ever get sick, and I don't think I have any life threatening illnesses.
However, I'm slightly OCD and anxious.  I've had a few panic attacks, heart palpitations and add that into my new mood swings, and constant crying...I knew something was up.  I just hate admitting things like that.  I always want to be in complete control of myself, I don't want any help, much less any medication.
They had me fill out a form about my "feelings."  Like, "I feel this often," or, "I never feel this" and while looking at it I busted into tears - a complete fit really.  It was totally fucking embarrassing.
So you're looking at a newly diagnosed depressed young woman.  It's awesome.  However, I've been on medicine and I feel so much better.  I've only cried twice!  And once was because of a movie! haha.  We'll see how things go when school starts back up and I pile more things onto my plate.  With 18 credit hours, a part time job, and a boyfriend I just hope I can juggle as well as become a magician.  Turning chainsaws into doves can't be that hard, right?  Maybe I'll up my dose...
(kidding, haha)



Besides that I have SO MUCH to catch up on.  I signed for an apartment recently, my family gave my boyfriend 600 dollars, my new years resolutions, my (very decent if I must say) grades, and my recent Christmas adventures in North Carolina.  I'll probably have new years stuff too.  Man, I'm behind.
I'll at least post a few pictures on here to I don't feel so lame, haha.

Stoner Nation

I'm so tired of the sexy spin that my generation has put on smoking pot.  Tumblr, google, pinterest, anywhere on the internet you can find a picture of some ripped guy and a half naked girl taking a bong rip and it's completely unrealistic.  Smoke tricks are more important than the last book you read, and just about every song or Hollywood star has something to say about it.
The reality is that if you're a smoker, you can't piss clean.  You can't get a job, you can't get a gym membership to look that hot, so you definitely can't get a hot girl.  I know a fuck ton of stoners, and none of them are that stereotype.  My boyfriend, my parents, and at least half of my best friends all smoke pot.  I don't personally have a taste for it (it makes me "weird") but I'm around it often, and yeah I'll take a hit or two every once in a while.
The difference between me and my friends who smoke, is that I feel bad for not smoking.  It's an oddity.  Society has made it so that pot is so fucking cool, that I'm strange for being disinterested.  To me, the war against pot has about 20 years, tops, left in it.  When my generation and the generation after us gets a hold of it, smoking won't even be a question.
But let me make this clear: smoking isn't sexy.  Getting baked isn't a turn on, and having the best bud won't get you in my pants.  If anything, I hear girls who are annoyed at the amount their boyfriend smokes (myself included).  If you're too stoned to drive to the movies at the actual speed limit, if you're spending too much on pot to at least split the bill, then you're just an effect of the stoner nation.  Congrats.

How The Media Failed Women in 2013

In multiple classes and even for a few papers, I have written about the way women are represented in the media.  I see it as one of the biggest obstacles and social problems of our time.  As a woman, I'm offended, I'm angry, and I'm fighting to break free of the norms that have been embedded in me by society.  This group, Miss Representation, is basically doing the most amazing thing ever by putting it in your face.  You see an ad here or there, you don't think much of it.  But when they're compiled (and let me tell you, they didn't even cover all of it) you can't turn away.  Women need to know that they've been trained to see themselves as objects, that we're trained to think we aren't capable of leading, that we need to be pretty to be smart, and that it's normal and "healthy" to be so skinny.

Watch, learn, and share.

Halloweenie

I really feel like Halloween has been dragged out this year for me.  I've gone to a haunted house, then to Scare Fest at Kings Dominion (which included 3 more haunted houses), and a Halloween party last weekend.  AND IT'S ONLY JUST NOW HALLOWEEN.
I just don't normally do so much, haha.
So I thought I'd post some pictures from last weekend so you could see my costume, a super hero.  I was going to try for The Black Widow, but that failed epically, so I got a cape and a mask and this is what happened.  I'm not much for sexy, but I do think Halloween gives the opportunity  to look hot and a little weird, without any judgement.  Although next year I think I want to try the scary side of things.... :)

Power Ranger, Me, Burlesque, and...you know, "normal."

My Zombie Killer

Wolverene's ginger cousin

A Sigh of Relief

Last night was the first really good night that I've had since I've come back to school this year.  I've gone out, I've drank a little, but it wasn't...right. Cliche', I know, but I don't know how else to describe it.  With losing a friend and having to re-assimilate, I just felt like I was walking around with a big hole in my chest.
It had a lot to do with the fight I got into with our "group" last year.  It was stupid, I can't even explain what it was about, but it got me "permanently uninvited."  So to add insult to injury, the whole group of people I spent time with last year was also missing from my life.
Well last night, Brittany and I went to their house just to say hi because we were partying just a few houses up the street.  It was the best thing we could have done.  We were welcomed back with open arms, smiles, and a lot of forgiveness.  The guy who kicked me out and I got a chance to talk alone.  We talked about the fight, Rachel, and regrets.  It was so amazing, because I know it's the place and the people I should've been hanging out with all along, but I was too stubborn to try without a personal invite.  And I know Rachel would be so happy to see us all talking again.
I know that some of the looks I got last night were pity, but they were with good intentions, so it's okay.  I'm just happy that I'm no longer excluded from people who's company I enjoyed so much before.  I'm actually crying as I write this, but I smile every time I look at the picture we got last night.  It really shows how happy we were to see each other again.  Can't fake smiles like those, haha.

The Addiction is Real

On a happier and more rewarding (see what I did there?) note, I thought I'd share some of my next tattoo ideas with you.  The first one I'm getting for my friend that passed away a few months ago, Rachel.  My friend Brittany and I are getting it together, although I think her font will be different.
I'm going to get it on my left side, the bird kind of flying away from me, and the words wrapping around my boob.  I'm getting the words in french because English is boring (not really), and because she was going to take French this upcoming semester.  We talked about traveling there together, and I just thought it was fitting.

I only want the bird on the bottom.

This means, "I miss you" in French

Celtic moon & Hindu sun

This I drew up, and it represents a personal yin and yang to me.  Not that I wanted to, but that's why I couldn't just use any generic sun and moon art.  It kind of represents the religious struggle I face every day, and I've always felt that I had two sides.  The heavy side that wants to work and succeed and the free side that wants to run barefoot around the world and not give a damn about any consequences.

107 Post-it Notes To My Future Shrink

I have a really weird (and by weird I mean bad) personality trait where I punish myself.  And not in a sexy submissive vs. dominance covered in latex kind of way.
I don't do anything crazy or too out of hand, like cut myself or consider suicide; the things I do aren't usually permanent.  The number one thing I'll do is refuse to eat.  For me this is a big deal because there have been a handful of times where I'll have an anxiety attack, sometimes leading to a panic attack, because I don't eat.  So when I punish myself by not eating, I do it with the full knowledge that it will only create a bigger brouhaha in my life (which is probably why it's such good punishment).
I'll also punish myself by refusing to join things that I know I will enjoy.  My family is going out to the mall and movies, two things I love.  Punishment - sit alone in the house and think about the fun they're having that I'm not...and also probably no dinner - you'd think I'd be skinnier.  I've also done this while shopping with my mom before.  I couldn't get one more shirt so I made her put them all back, because if I couldn't get that extra one, then I didn't want (or deserve) any of them.
Thankfully I'm over the shopping problem (considering I buy my own clothes now & I'll take what I can get),
but this personal punishment has a tendency to take control over more than just my life when it affects others.  And I find it hard to explain because the idea that I punish myself is just so fucking weird.

Why do I punish myself?
Well, why does WVU make it's furniture such an ugly shade of green?  Why do I only look good in Aviators?  Why do iPhone users feel so smug & superior with iOS 7?


 I don't really know for sure.  I should probably see some sort of therapist and have long, boring talks about my childhood.  But ain't no body got time for that!  Also, blogging is cheaper.

I do know I have the most tendency to do it when I feel inadequate with something, something I don't feel like I can control.  When I'm depressed or pitying myself, I feel like I deserve to be punished, because I'm a perfectly (arguably) healthy human being with friends, family, and endless love & support.

A prime example happened in my life last night
My boyfriend (bet you didn't think this was a boyfriend post - FOOLED YOU!) has been having a rough time at work, and just in life in general, and one thing that has really been bothering him was that he felt he was carrying our relationship.  All he asked me to do was to start texting and calling him first instead of the other way around.  That shouldn't be a big deal, and technically it's not.
But what it said to me was that I'm a terrible girlfriend who doesn't deserve anything because I don't put in any effort and I'm unlovable and a total waste of space, my boyfriend deserves someone better who can offer him more, and on and on and on.  That monologue went though my head for 3 hours before punishment came into play.
Around midnight I texted him and said the following:
"I don't know how to be a girlfriend, much less a "good" girlfriend.  3 months in people always seem to figure that out.  At this point I feel like I cause you more irritation and confusion than happiness and even I know that's not how relationships should be...With all of this going on, if you think it's a good idea to take a break this weekend & not see me I understand. You drive here every weekend & it's not fair to ask for so much when I don't give anything in return."

Punishment: not being allowed to do something I actually would like very much.  You can't even imagine the texts and the almost breaking up (which could still happen) that I started after that.  When I get this way I feel like there is a giant black vortex in my chest and it's sucking all of the good out of me.  I don't even know how to explain to him that he didn't do anything, this is something I do to myself.  And he (nor anyone else probably) wants to read this long ass essay that I've just written on it.
I don't know if I can life my life this way, what if I decide to have kids one day or something?

Hitchhikers Thumb

Sometimes when I tell people I want to travel, what I really mean is "run away."

Being Shiny, The World's Most Troubled Trophy Girlfiend

September has been a busy month.  I don't know what exactly I've been busy with, but it's been taking up all of my time.
It's probably been busy because of the boyyyyyyfriendddddd.  I'm pretty much just amazed that we're still together.  That he still likes me and doesn't think I'm a total wacko is magic-carpet-ride level amazing.  Having him as a boyfriend has been kind of like living in a movie.  Of course he has his flaws, but 90% of the time he literally treats me like a long-lost princess, and I couldn't be more grateful.
But I feel like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Like, he's going to realize that I'm too demanding and totally not worth it, at any second.  When will I stop being the shiny new trophy?

Not only that, but his short, itty-bitty list of flaws is slowly diminishing as he decides to make life changes for me.  BE AWARE:  I did not ask for any of these changes, they are his own personal goals that I just happen to support.  Just wanted to clear that up before I got some major judgement from the peanut gallery.
Baby list of flaws:
A smoker,
Stoner (like the wake and bake, eat and bake, work and bake, drive and bake, bake and bake kind),
Living with a friend's family,
Unreliable car,
Low-level job (by this I mean that he can't really get much higher in the management than he already is, and it's not his dream job.  Not that he knows what his dream job is, haha),
Low self esteem

He's cut back on smoking (at least when I'm around, which is good enough for me since he's Mr. Two-Packs-A-Day), he's quitting pot for a while, and he's saving up for a car and his own place (probably with all that pot money he now has leftover).  He's also considering technical school.
I could list my flaws for years and years and years.  Basically infinity plus one.  And this guy still thinks I'm too hot to roam around college because I'll get hit on.  More like hit by...a giant truck.

To be honest, when we first got together, I was mostly just infatuated with how much he liked me.  It was a rush to be admired so much, and then to be treated so well, as if it were a natural everyday thing.  But now I"m in love with how willing he is to change and be there for me.  Like he's not just going to be the pillars on my porch, he's also going to be the walls in my house.  And possibly the roof.
How do I repay that?  How do I accept that?
What would I do if that went away?

Shit, even when things in life work out the good has consequences.  What's with that?

Oops, I Had Sex (and it didn't go well) - A Cautionary Tale

I post enough embarrassing stuff on here that I figured I should just go ahead and share this one too.  I'm honestly disgusted at how much sex/boy talk I've been doing lately.  I swear I have other interests in my life, but I just suppose they just aren't as noteworthy.  And honestly, my sex life is so much funnier than anything else I do.  In fact, it's even a bit of a warning...  Are you ready for my not-sexy sex story?

It would be just my luck to pick out a guy who has a thing for pain in the bedroom.  Bite, scratch, beat, whatever it is, he's into it.  You know what he's not into?  Foreplay.  Or Condoms.

Concerning the first one I just have to say, it's fucking necessary to turn on the sprinklers before you start running around in the front yard hoping for something to happen!  And I haven't had sex in almost 5 months, it should be soooooooo easy for you to do.  No excuses.
By the way, do you know what condoms have on them? lube.
And I'll just go ahead and do a little no-condom rant.  I KNOW. I've been taught since the 6th grade that condoms are great, super important little things that are a necessity.  Especially when having casual sex with someone. I KNOW.  But we didn't and in my defense I asked for one a few times and he just claimed he didn't have one.  You know what he didn't ask?  If he come cum inside of me.  Yeah, that happened.  No permission given, he just went for it.  I was dumbfounded.  Saying "yeah I'm on birth control" was not "woman speak" for disregard condoms and, oh while your at it, put your sperm in me!

So, there was that nonsense.  And I was in pain the whole time, both times.  Strait up pain.  The first time I even asked him to stop, don't finish, just stop.  It's a little my fault, I'm not directive at all.  I don't come with an instructions manual, I just hope that I have a good builder.  One lesson learned from the sexcapade was speak up!  Being quiet will get you nothing!
Or wait, it will get you something...
In my case it was a swollen v a g i n a.  It happens during sex, it's honestly pretty natural (I looked it up).  However, I got home and put an ice pack on my vagina.  For about an hour.  I wish I was kidding.  Thankfully I'm a good sport, because it makes me laugh just to think about it.  I mean, an ice pack shaped like an oreo was in my pants for a good part of my Friday while I was skipping classes because it hurt to walk or wear underwear.  You can't make that shit up, you just have to live it.

Also when I got to my room I realized I'd walk of shamed with a hickey the size of Massachusetts on my shoulder and neck.  Gigantic.  A guy actually asked me if I got hit by/fell on something.  That happened to be the weekend I went home and my amazing dad had the grace to ignore it while I did my best to apply make-up and wear clothes from my small selection of t-shirts (they make me feel like I'm choking so I don't own many).

I waited five months to have sex, and this is what happened to me.  I just...it really does make me smile.  I'm so ridiculous sometimes.

By the way (my little disclaimer), in the guy's defense, it wasn't all bad and he's actually a nice person.  The good stuff just isn't as interesting or funny as the bad, so I won't bore you with it, haha.

An Apology (and explanation) Letter To My Future Husband (should I ever get one)

Hello my beautiful blog!  I've been hiding from you.  Yes, hiding...because of that last post, the one that I STILL can't read but refuse to delete.  It reeks of how low and pathetic I was and can be; plus I pretty much cried the whole time I wrote it.  It was an emotional breakdown that I'll admit I'm still not dealing with.  It's all basically "la-la-la-la-la-plug-my-ears-and-move-on."
Big surprise that it's not working well for me.

Here's Example A of how well things are going:
I meet Joe Schmo at a frat party.  He's pretty cute, tall, awkward, and one-hundred and twenty percent into me.  We talk, we badly dance, I give him a chaste kiss and my phone number (lalalalalalalalalalalala).
Then we hung out the next day...for six hours.  We strolled around campus, looked at a few sights, held hands.  It was all very cheesy and 1950's.  I took him to one of my good friend's house, mistake #249,904.  The awkwardness clung to the air around me, I felt so forced into even the simple intimacy of sitting next to him. Finally I couldn't take it any more.  I asked the poor kid to leave.
Have you ever had to do that?  Is there a polite way to ask someone to get the fuck out before you use your North Face to hang yourself from the ceiling fan?  Personally I couldn't think of one and I was in panic mode.
I think I did an okay job though, by saying, "I'd really like to just hang out with my friends now." then I kissed him and said "can that be a goodnight kiss?" (damn smooth for panic mode, am I right?)
And I have not talked to him since.  If the guilt is killing me, then the anger I feel at myself for being such a complicated bitch has already bought my headstone.
I realized just how much I do not, repeat DO NOT, want a relationship.  I don't want to share my friends or my time with anyone else.  I can't be bothered by the strange "I like you," and "I like you too" but "how much?" parts of a budding relationshit relationship.  Yet I threw away the friends-with-benefits part of my life because I fell in love with the guy and wanted more.  But I don't want more?  You see, I put a question mark there because I'm really not fucking sure.

So yeah, I'm not really okay.  But I am.  Like, I'm functional and happy, just occasionally confused.  Also, I'm on the brink of making stupid decisions, like texting the guy I'm still in love with for his birthday so when I'm out for the summer we can have lunch and catch up.  I keep asking people whether they think it's a good idea or not, and they all say the same thing.  I'm not sure why I keep asking, I know what I 'm going to end up doing.
And so continues the denial train, choo-choo-motherfucker!

Chest-bumps and Crowd Chants

I finally went to my first college football game yesterday.  Throughout this semester I'd requested three tickets, received all of them, even printed them out only to later decide that I didn't want to go to a damn football game.  My friends convinced me it would be fun, that I would just love it, so I went.

At first I was excited, everyone had such school spirit (something my high school had never managed).  The thought "I want to go to every football game for the rest of college" even crossed my mind.  That was quickly erased, however, as I remembered why I don't like football in the first place.

I don't have the attention span to watch that crap!  It goes on forever, and then a few days after that.  The chants got old, and after a certain point we were beating the other team to such an extent they weren't going to come back at all so to watch any more was pretty much irrelevant.   

I've decided that should I choose to go to another one in the future I should be solidly drunk, like all of the other people around me.  Then maybe I'll find men hitting each other with their bodies more entertaining.

P.S. 

Rugby is so much better.

Dirty socks and other laundry I'd like to air

So I'm about to talk about something really personal, awkward, and embarrassing.  Even more than usual.
But first, I'd like to build it up and chat a little bit about some of the unconventional things my first semester of college has taught me:
1) Roommates aren't meant to share everything.
I'm very good friends with my roommate, we even chose to room together.  We party together, share food, and talk to each other about mostly everything.  However, I made the mistake of not putting my foot down about a guy I liked, and she ended up sleeping with him.  That kind of sharing isn't okay.  Share the fact he's off limits, don't share his dick.
2) You're going to have a shit ton of exams.
Study for one at a time. You will kill yourself trying to study a week ahead of time, keep up with the class, but don't spend every night making flash cards.
3) Laundry is expensive!
I spend about $20 on laundry every month and yet I just can't seem to get my socks as clean as my mom did...
4) Put a damn condom on.  Please!
Everyone tells you this, basically from the time you learn about sex.  You nod your head, swear you'll never go without, and then end up doing it anyways.  In fact, even as I write this I know that whoever is reading this will, at some point, decide against a condom.  You really won't realize how important they are until you have a pregnancy or STI scare.  Hopefully it'll just be a scare and not too late.

And that brings me to number five.  Oh, number five...you shitty little asshat.
A little over a week ago I went to a frat date night as a favor for my friend.  Since most of the pledges and dates weren't 21 we pregamed before going to a club, which was fun.  After a while my friend and I ditched our dates and began to really have a good time.
A screwdriver, shot, and 1/2 pitcher of beer later, I'm open minded enough to dance with just about anyone.  When one of my lovely dance partners kisses me on the lips I don't think much of it, except for the fact that I wasn't into him enough for anything but dancing.  I didn't pay much attention then, but I should have taken a good look at the giant cold sore on his freaking lip.
Herpes.
I realized yesterday that I'd been exposed and I was at the doctors less than 24 hours later, and that's where I got my (possibly) most important lesson.
Yeah, herpes is a shitty thing to have, but it's not that big of a deal.  Apparently 1 in 6 people have it, although most don't break out.  The doctor told me that I hadn't broken out yet, so I wouldn't, but that it was unnecessary to do a test because I most likely had been exposed to it at one point or another.  I paid $15 so a doctor could tell me that basically "[I've] probably got this, but so does everyone else."

Needless to say, kissing strangers has officially been taken off of my to-do list and I'll be paying a lot more attention to cold sores, drunk or not.
Learn from me.