I'm Not Cool

I’m too school for cool, so I decided to stay in tonight and do notes for some incredibly nerdy class. Campus is currently dressing up in slutty clothes, drinking the classy ‘natty,’ about to drop it like it’s hot.

I learned how to drop it like it's hot last September when Big Red decided to put on a midafternoon dance academy in our kitchen. In the midst of my Peanut Butter and Egg sandwich, Big Red lined us up; by us, I mean me, the P.E Teacher, Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-One and Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-Two. She put on our goto jam, “Boom-Boom Pow” by the Black Eyed Peas. Next thing I know, we’re doing a four step routine against the dining room table chairs.

Anyways, I took the night off for the homework notes, so let me tell you about the ass kicking I received last night.

I attempt to play basketball at Shepherd University, a division two school in Bumfuck, West Virginia. Last night we got raped by Fairmont University. Their starting lineup consisted of four oversized midgets and a seven foot monster. Besides the final score, two vivid images stick out in my head.

Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-One getting her shit smacked to Africa by the monster and Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-Number-Two crying hysterically after the game… Haha.

Playing a sport in college pretty much ruins your life. I, like many athletes, have an awkward love/hate relationship with their prospective sports. I currently have a pimp walk due to a crack in my fifth metatarsal. Yes, I have a broken foot, it’s miserable. Walking is miserable, stretching is miserable, practice is miserable. Being sore is miserable. My roommates tell me I bitch so much it makes them miserable.

BUT

I need it. I need it like I need cookies and Regis and Kelly and the word “fuck.” Basketball has been a crucial part of my life. I’ve learned dedication, hard work and teamwork. I’ve developed a beautiful temper, a disgusting mouth, a will to win and win and win. I love this game and it makes me miserable.

Also, I hate losing.

So as a result of getting our ass kicked, I went into the locker room, threw my shoe against the wall and screamed “FUCK!” entirely too loud. After a half ass huddle, I continued into the night by shoving down a steak and cheese sub, a peanut butter cookie, two chocolate chip cookies and two scoops of rocky road ice cream. Then I fell asleep to the sweet sounds of Justin Beiber. I began my morning with a cup of coffee and a chipotle burrito.

So. Over. That. Loss.

Confession: I am not too school for cool; I’m too not cool for cool. I have no homework; I’m a Rec and Leisure Major. But I did have to take notes on how Snookie can eat fried pickles and drink Miller Lights every afternoon and still keep that sexy bod.