Her Ace in the Hole

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Things I Learned in College

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I went to college at the University of Tulsa in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

When I tell people this, most of them look at me strangely.  I can tell they are wondering why the hell anyone would want to go away to school in Tulsa.  But it was a good school and lots of fun.  I think pretty much anywhere away from home or in a different state is the key.  It’s what you make of it.  As long as you don’t smoke too much pot and flunk out, you’re good to go.

The Top 20 21 22 Things I Learned in College:

1)  Keyboarding skills will help you.

2)  A party that features Jungle Juice made in a big garbage can get a little scary, but it’s even scarier when you watch your friends eating the fruit at the bottom of the garbage can at 3am.

3)  Fraternity houses smell funny.

4)  Nothing is more awesome than a dorm room and a pre-paid cafeteria meal plan.

5)  “The Humpty Dance” by Digital Underground will always be fun to shake your ass to.

6)  It doesn’t feel good to be cheated on.  It doesn’t feel good to do the cheating, either.  Guilt sucks.

7)  If you are dating someone exclusively and you can’t be honest about your feelings and fears, you (both) still have some growing up to do.

8)  There are many different ways to look at an issue.  For example, (insert male southern accent here) a TU economics professor asking the class, “What’s a BILLION?  Well, a billion dollars in the national debt, now that’s not a lot.  But a billion bullet holes in yer body, NOW THAT’S A LOT!”  Ummm, yeah.

9)  Matching sundresses and hats are only a good look if you are under the age of 5.

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10)  If you shack up with a guy for the night and he sleeps in a t-shirt, he probably has a very hairy back.

11)  If you stumble to the dorm bathroom in the middle of the night, naked and completely blitzed, don’t accidentally walk into a huge black football player’s room and try to crawl into bed with him.  Especially if you are a guy.

12)  Be polite to your elderly house mother when she calls you Pepper for four years.

13)  Beer + canoe floating = fun

14)  Don’t yank super hard while pulling a canoe up on a beach when your canoe partner has just started to stand up.  See #12.

15)  If you go to formal dances or events in college, you will wear some UGLY ASS outfits.

16)  You will make lots of friends, and you won’t stay in touch with many of them.  But that doesn’t make you love them any less.

17)  Don’t assume you can trust all your sorority sisters.  Your real friends will have your back.  ALWAYS. 

18)  Growing older is a good thing.  Especially when you don’t have to freak out about using a fake ID from the Dallas flea market anymore. 

PS – most of us will look even better when we are in our 30’s.  Case in point:

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19)  If you have a serious boyfriend your senior year in college, don’t feel like you have to be engaged right before/after graduation.  You may have bigger and better things to do with your life.  AND FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU’RE ONLY TWENTY-ONE.

20)  See those girls eating biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast every morning?  They WILL gain weight. 

21)  The thrill of the chase!  And the thrill of the first kiss!  Oh my…

22)  You will experience a few heartbreaks and probably lots of hangovers, but these will help make you stronger.

Loyal readers, please feel free to add your own college lessons in the “Comments” section under this post.  In fact, please do. 

Karma’s a Bitch

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Yesterday we took a walk as a family on a path that leads down to Tanner Park.  I think it’s called Parley’s something or other…basically, you park up above Wasatch Drive and then you can walk down a cement path and over a couple of bridges that hover right above I-215.  It’s very peaceful, as you can imagine.

My kids got about halfway down the path to the canyon, then stopped to sit and play in a bunch of gravel and rocks.  Beatty was fooling around with a rubber snake and Sloan was pushing rocks through a chain-link fence.  Right by the highway noise.

Peaceful, like I said.

I turned to Brad while listening to semi trucks whizzing by, and mentioned how I couldn’t wait to get home and sit on my front porch with a glass of wine.  At three o’clock in the afternoon.  It’s Sunday, right?

So, right when we got home I tore off my clothing and put on this…

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…and I saunter outside to watch the kids play with my glass of wine in hand.

Brad looks over his sunglasses at me and says,

“Piper, do you really think that’s appropriate to wear outside the house?”

And of course, I scoff and roll my eyes and look down at my pasty, hairy legs and my five-dollar gray boots and the shorts I wear to bed and think, “GOD, it could be worse.”

And of course, I continued to wear this outfit outside in the light of day even though my husband has voiced his doubts and humiliation to be married to someone who would.  I even walked across the street to the neighbor’s house to chit-chat.  Because in my opinion, our domain is not just our house, but a fifty-foot roaming range around our house.  Kind of like a cat.

This whole episode did not embarrass me whatsoever, but it did make me think of how one day I need to get out and buy myself some cute lounging clothes, if there is such a thing.  Because I am not the kind of woman that is going to schlep around the house in some body-hugging jeans and a fantastic shirt with a push-up bra.  I will probably get around to taking this shopping trip when I get around to buying myself some new underwear.  Like next century.  Until then, you’ll see me wandering the neighborhood in my nightclothes.

I got a little payback last night when I woke up around 3am to go to the bathroom.  As I tiptoed back into our bedroom, I noticed in the dark that I had left a glass of water on top of the dresser.  I was parched, so I took a big swig and….OH SHIT, YUCK, GAWD, THIS IS WARM WHITE WINE, NOT WATER!!  Arrrggggghhh!

And then Brad nestled a little more soundly in his sleep as I ran to spit out the wine and stick my head under the faucet to rinse out my boozy mouth.

See, honey?  That’s the way the Universe works.  You eventually get yours.

It’s No Frederick’s Around Here

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It’s kind of a sad day when your husband tells you that he’s gonna give you a hundred bucks to go out and buy yourself some new underwear.

That’s what Brad sort of begged me to do last week.

I retorted, “As IF I have time to shop for new underwear!”  Hmpf.

I’d much rather spend the two hours it would take to drive to the store and find undies reading Vanity Fair or surfing the web for pictures of Ice-T’s wife’s ass.  Just saying.

Part of this reluctance comes from the fact that these days it feels like any sort of adventure out of the house which involves dragging Sloan with me feels like Jesus’ march up the street with a crucifix tied to his back.  Kinda hard-like and not so fun, you know?  And I have become one of those people who will let their kid play with something or tear it apart in a store and then I hide it on a shelf behind something else.  BECAUSE IT KEEPS HER BUSY IN THE CART.  Totally lame, I know.

Back to underwear.

Brad is probably right.  My collection of undergarments is pretty sad and decrepit.  I don’t think I’ve bought panties in like five years.  Except for when I was pregnant with my first-born, and I bought a couple pair of maternity undies.  AND YES, I STILL WEAR THE BITCHES. 

I have never been the kind of girl to really care about or spend a lot of money on sexy underwear.  It seems the more expensive they are, the more uncomfortable they get and the more they ride up your ass or make your junk itch.  I’d much rather just go without.  And the whole thong idea…I don’t know, I used to wear them religiously, but now it’s like they pinch your nether regions and if you have pants on, why not just go commando?

OH MY GOD.  I AM BECOMING MY MOTHER. 

She hasn’t worn underpants in like thirty years.  I don’t even know if she owns a pair.  Or a bra. 

Brad swore recently that he is not going to read my blog anymore, but if you are a big liar mouth and you are reading this right now, I’M STILL WAITING FOR MY C-NOTE.  I will definitely use the money for some new undies, but I’m not promising to throw away all the old ones.  And I will not show you receipts, especially if I happen to come home with some new shoes, too.

But I promise I won’t come home with these:

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