Erin, Salad, Frat Parties

Remember yesterday, when I was nervous and didn't know anybody? I have to keep reminding myself that I haven't lived here for a month. I was terrified of college, and on day two, I freakin' own this place.

Practically immediately after I shut my laptop following yesterday's blog, I walked down the hall and ended up in this girl Erin's room. I skimmed the perimeter of her dorm, looking for a conversation starter, and a battered copy of Looking For Alaska started glowing and hovering in midair as a chorus sang. Turns out, one of her best friends watches fiveawesomegirls. Erin has ALL CAPS on her iPod! It took approximately thirty seconds for us to find out that we have the whole world in common, to shoot the Nerdfighter symbol at the same time without planning, and to memorize the names and distinguishing features of the main characters in each other's lives. Erin's really outgoing and extroverted, and she has one of those contagious personalities that turns what would ordinarily be obnoxious into fun. She, a fellow freshman, took me on a tour to the other floors of our building and to another dorm across campus as if she already knows everyone and everything, just by nature. I went from sheepishly saying hi to strangers in the hallway and blushing to having a detailed discussion about Poe with a Creative Writing major I found, in a building I would have never visited without Erin's push.

Erin and I went out for meal plan salads for dinner, and I swear, I have never before had such a delicious salad bar at my disposal. I filled a huge carton to the brink with spinach, lettuce, carrots, peppers, tomatoes, onions, almonds, mozzarella cheese, cottage cheese, oil and vinegar. That thing was about the size of a Thanksgiving turkey, and every single bite tasted like solid ecstasy.

Afterwards, Kelly (my sister, though my roommate shares the same name; I'll call her Roomie) called and invited me over, probably expecting me to still be lonely. I told her I'd come over later with a friend. Erin and I went shopping and talked about everything awesome in the world. My favorite vintage store has this dress that's positively perfect for my Bellatrix Lestrange Halloween costume, as well as a locket that looks as close to my image of the Horcrux as I've ever seen in person. I'm considering buying it for myself for my birthday. Anyway, we went to Kelly's in the evening, where we talked to her friends and I applied more eyeliner than should be legal at my sister's request. The senior girls told us about a party we could go to, and Erin and I shot each other a lot of skeptical glances. Neither of us are much the party type, and the idea of standing in a frat house with a bunch of people I don't know, looking like an awkward freshman, didn't sound appealing. We briefly considered returning to our dorm like noobs to watch a movie or something, but as scary as the frat party sounded, retiring at nine on the first day sounded even more pathetic. Finally, one of Kelly's friends convinced us that she never went out in high school, but the parties she tried her freshman year were some of the most fun she's ever had. She showed us the way, and we went back to our rooms to change.

We showed up on the front porch of some strangers' house, dressed in skinny jeans, flipflops, tops, and way too much makeup, laughing to ourselves and wondering what we were expected to do. Erin grabbed my hand and pushed us through the small crowd, where we found a table of people playing flip cup, which is one of those pointless-- yet somehow exhilarating-- College Drinking Games that I've heard of but never seen up close. After a short conversation with a skinny boy next to us, it soon became apparent that we were nowhere near the only awkward freshmen in attendance. The party was pretty much comprised of a few senior guys with lots of beer dressed in t-shirts and a crowd of eighteen-year-olds trying a little too hard. Everyone I talked to, though, was really nice and funny, and nothing like the creepy predators after-school specials warn you about. And I don't think this is just me being naive, because I've met those stereotypical creepers before. I really got the sense that everyone I met last night was rather genuine.

After Erin and I screamed a bonding conversation over the loud music, we went with a little group of freshmen-- two girls and an amusing boy-- up the street, and considered going to another party with them. I had to go to the bathroom, though, and the other girls we were with appeared to not be our type, so Erin and I went home with the intention of heading out later or just hanging out. We got into pajamas, I scrubbed diligently at my eye makeup for what felt like a century, and it suddenly occurred to us how exhausted our legs already were from scaling OU's crazy hills. Roomie had hung out with some of her friends from her hometown and was already in bed watching TV, so Erin and I parted with the promise of seeing each other the next morning.

I actually did NOT fall off my bed, although I awoke to find a pillow on the floor, which I hope didn't disturb my roommate's sleep. My sister has an extension cord I can steal to remedy the issue of charging my phone at night, but it was strange last night to not have my phone near my head. The period in the morning during which I ordinarily read missed text messages and check everything online didn't exist, since it's a bit of a chore to climb up and down from my bunk bed, and Roomie slept much longer than I did, so I didn't want to wake her by shaking the furniture around. I tiptoed to gather my things to take a painful as hell shower. The faucets in our hall are kind of like powerwashers. Water shoots out, nearly perpendicular, like it's trying to saw a hole through the curtain. I didn't wash my hair, but it got soaking wet anyway from overspray. Anytime you stumble into the main stream by losing balance shaving or something, your skin receives this vicious slap. Taking showers here is kind of like having an abusive boyfriend. You come out more bruised and damaged than you went in, but you still crave it and, in the end, have no other option.

Since then, I ate a banana, and Erin and I went shopping some more and drank watery, expensive hot chocolate that I didn't want, but bought to be social. My mouth is still burnt and stale-tasting, even since I've been chugging bottle after bottle of water. I'm going to head over to a dining hall after I finish blogging and, even though Erin is incredible and I'm thrilled beyond belief to have met her, I think I should go alone and try to meet someone new. Most importantly, I'm really, really happy.

Sexy: Voting for Kristina to win a trip to Antarctica. It only takes a minute to register, and she legitimately has a chance of winning. Please, please vote!

Unsexy: The amount of black pencil still stuck to my eyelids despite my desperate efforts to remove it.

Chipotle burritos this year: 29

Bagel Street visits this school year: 1

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Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3