There isn't a whole lot for me to talk about these days. I doubt anyone wants to read about the minute details of my nights at TJs, Tucks, 360, and Twiropa, and the sad thing is that's about all I've been doing these days: bar-hopping.
Oh my goodness, before I forget... every girl reading this must immediately go out and buy Jessica Simpson's edible perfume. It is incredible. Courtney brought it ot the last party in Baton Rouge, and she and Amanda and I spent the whole night spraying it on ourselves and then sucking on our own wrists. This was after we'd had a few monsoons, of course. But seriously.
Speaking of Amanda, she is SeanM's adorable new girlfriend, and that is them in the picture.
I don't know whether or not I've mentioned this before, but I recently signed a lease to live in an apartment a few minutes away from the LSU campus. I'm living with Elise again and two other girls, and countless other friends of mine live in this apartment complex and the one next door. I'm more excited than you can possibly imagine, and also a little worried about just how much studying I'm going to get done next semester. I move in August 18th, and it cannot come soon enough.
Speaking of moving away not coming soon enough...
My mother has been driving me crazy lately. Now, you would think that I'm referring to the usual mom stuff - "clean your room, be home before 3, don't drink so much..." But no, not my mother. My mom goes out more often than me. Most often, she goes to The Dock, and whenever she meets a guy that she finds halfway-interesting, she brings him home.
My 48-year-old mother is having way more sex than me. With guys who are in their 20s.
Well, most of them are in their early 30s, I think, but she has told me that Joey is 25 and Troy is 28. This kind of disturbs me. What disturbs me even more is the fact that she goes places that friends of mine have been known to frequent. I am just waiting for the day that she brings home Brad or CJ or someone.
But it doesn't end there - in the past few years, I've learned to live with the fact that my mom is, uh... open with her sexuality. It didn't start to bother me until one night last week.
My mom was in Metairie watching some band play at some daiquiri shop, and I was home by myself, taking a break from bars for the night. Around 1 am, I started to hear noises coming from the stairs down the hall from my room. I told myself that it was the cat, but because I am paranoid, I locked my bedroom door. I heard vague creaking noises a few more times, but my house is kind of old and tends to make noises from time to time. So I go about my business downloading mp3s and gossipping with Courtney when I start to hear the noises again, and this time they are much clearer: there is definitely a person walking up the stairs.
So at this point I am freaking out, because I distinctly remember locking the front door and my mom's car is not outside. I am convinced I am about to get raped or murdered, or at least my laptop is about to get stolen. So I grab my cigarettes and open my window as quietly as possible, perch myself on the windowsill and start smokng like crazy in an attempt to calm my nerves. I am seriously considering climbing out of the house. I grab my cell phone and decide to call the police when I hear my front door open. I am terrified at this point, because my window looks out over the front yard, and whoever is about to walk out is sure to see me. I am convinced that I am about to die.
I see a guy whom I don't recognize, walk out of my house and toward a van parked a little ways down the street from my house, and sure enough, he looks up and sees me. I say something stupid like "who the hell are you?" and he looks up and says "I'm Troy... I got bored, so I came and used the spare key so that I could come in and look for Kathy."
Honestly, it's one thing for my mom to have an active sex life. It's quite another for it to scare me half to death in the middle of the night.
nicole: 19-year-old LSU sophomore. biochemistry, pre-med. native new orleanian. starbucks barista. borderline alcoholic. addicted to facebook, red bull and vodka, and college football. a little neurotic, extremely indecisive, and often irresponsible.
There isn't a whole lot for me to talk about these days. I doubt anyone wants to read about the minute details of my nights at TJs, Tucks, 360, and Twiropa, and the sad thing is that's about all I've been doing these days: bar-hopping.
