Epic Fail

About seven years ago, I still believed that everything in life would just automatically fall into place if I was in the right place at the right time. I enrolled in college to study cosmetology, although I dropped out of the program on the second day of classes (it was entirely too superficial an environment for me to stand). Once finally getting settled in there, however, I ended up in the general education program (as in "undeclared" or as they like to call them, "future dropouts" -- I wish I hadn't scoffed at the second one). I was given one class that I really hated (Greeks and the Bible) and another that I couldn't keep up with (English Composition, 101 with a teacher's assistant, no less), and another that I actually enjoyed (Sociology 101). I didn't quite get it still that there was really some hard work, perseverance, and a lot less alcohol involved in success.

My first room mate's name was Emily Ouvre (have you noticed I have a habit of outing the no-so-innocent?) -- I hated her guts, and she apparently returned the sentiment. Nevermind that I didn't hate her first -- the moment I got there I was greeted with, "I don't like you because you're in my personal space and I will have this room to myself - you'll see." Well, I freaking never! I thought. As the semester got on, she pulled out every stop in driving me out. She had her friends over late while I was trying to sleep, she locked me out of the room all night while she was entertaining her (douche) boyfriend, she had her friends threaten me.... The last straw was when she tied up little plastic sharks and fish all over the room and little pieces of construction paper with "fish killer" written on them after the Betta fish I had "died." (He didn't actually die -- he was just depressed. He moved to my mom and dad's house and lived on for about 7 months before actually going to sleep with the fishes.)  This chick pulled out all the stops to get me to leave, and it worked; you'd have to be crazy to want to live with someone like that anyway. I "put up" with her crap for about two months before I got out of there. As much as I brought it up with my RA, they didn't do anything about it, so I instead went to the director of housing and found an empty room in another hall across campus. The only problem was that I needed a room mate to move in to an empty room.

I enlisted to help of a girl down the hall who I was kind of friends with, and we moved into the empty room. She ended up leaving on Halloween, the same night that I had my new boyfriend Kip over. It wasn't that I didn't care she was leaving (although I was excited that I would finally get a room to myself now), I was just excited to finally have another boyfriend. Ha. A few years after we had been room mates, I moved down to Saginaw to live with her for a while so I could try to get out on my own (another bad idea that didn't work out, another story).


There were a lot of crazy times in the short time I was in college. I remember one time that Lisa (the second room mate) and I went to find this house party, ended up a good mile or so away, and then had to walk back up the hill before we FINALLY found the place. It was snowing hard, with about two and a half feet on the ground. After we got good and drunk on some keg beer at this "party" (there were the three guys that lived there and us -- that's it! HA!), we started on our way home. Lisa got sick and decided to try to sleep it off in the snow; I dragged her butt back to the dorms. What a way to kill a buzz, lemme tell you.

Even after she had left, though, I still partied with others in the hall, drinking and smoking. That's what my days and nights consisted of. It's not really any wonder why I flunked out of school; I didn't apply myself at all. Towards the end of the second semester, when it became obvious that I was going to just barely make it, if at all, I did try a little harder, but not hard enough. I missed being able to stay by three answers on my last final exam. I should've just done the damn work and paid attention, but that was hard for me at that time because I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, except that I didn't want to have one at all. Now I can't go back to school until the one I attended lifts my academic suspension, or at least that's how I understand the situation. I've tried a couple times to get back into college (although I still don't know what for, other than to get "some kind of degree" really) and have been rejected every time.

I really wish that I would've had a little more sense back then and less need for escapism. I'm still hoping that some day I can go back to school and make my parents proud for accomplishing something, but I don't know if that will ever happen. There's just too much about the future that is entirely unknown to me for me to honestly believe that it will.