6 reasons why girls that go camping are hot

1.     She knows how to rough it

Yup, dirt bugs and 40 second showers. And for several days she doesn’t even care. That’s what a camper is signing up for. This chick is not high maintenance. Go roll around in some dirt with her, she likes it.

2.     She knows how to pitch a tent

…And I’m not just talking about the campsite.  No but seriously, any decent camper can successfully pitch a tent, even if it takes a while. So sit back and enjoy your beer, she’s got it. (Totally kidding, get your ass up and help you bastard).

3.     She doesn’t take too long to get ready

After plenty of practice this girl knows how to throw herself together pretty quickly. I mean when you are camping you might have one little mirror all four days to see how ugly you actually are without make up. So you pick up little tricks after a few years and now you get ready for the day with your eyes closed.

4.     She’s totally prepared.

So I mean this both literally and metaphorically. When out camping you learn that forgetting one single thing at home can throw off your entire camping experience. Well after drilling that into your head every camping trip, that shit follows you to real life. You need anything, ask the hot camper.

5.     She’s one with nature.

Okay, a little corny but she won’t be the one to turn down nature walks or fishing. You’ve got a down to get dirty flower child on your hands, guys.

Butterflies landing on her while she’s singing to the animals in the forest. Okay, so maybe not exactly like that, but you know what I mean.

6.     She isn’t annoyingly addicted to her cell

Most of the campgrounds I have ever been on have pretty bad reception, although some were bearable. Even when you do have service though, you are likely leaving it at the site to charge while you go off and do whatever. Half the fun of being camping is getting away from all that “real-life” BS. No Facebook on this trip.

Cinco de Mayo back and ready for action

Put your sombrero and fake mustache on and get ready to party! Yup, it is finally that time of the year again where we celebrate the Anniversary of the Battle of Puebla (I’m totally screwing with you, in fact I had to Google that.). Anyways here in the US its more of a day where we all pretend to be Hispanic and get sloppy at the local Mexican restaurant…unless of course you have gone above and beyond to be more creative than this and are throwing a festive shindig at your place. Nevertheless, sloppy.

 I didn’t really start “celebrating” [i.e. chugging margaritas until I thought my last name Perry was Pablo] until my freshman year of college where everyone made it clear that in University world this was a real unofficial holiday. People are either dressed quite, eh… well racist, or just being typical white girl wasted.

 Recently I really started thinking to myself, “holy shit, for such an inapplicable holiday to my life I sure do spend a whole lotta money on it.” I mean for all I, the typical white girl, knows this could be some kind of Mexican conspiracy- make all of us clueless idiots buy a bunch of expensive margaritas, shitty Coronas and killer tequila shots. Ok, not much of a conspiracy, but say hello to being hungover and broke on May 6^th.

I personally plan on going to this little hidden gem called “Fiesta” where they have cheap ass margaritas, they BLAST Spanish music throughout the entire bar and everyone is there to much like the name, FIESTA. Seriously, for 20 dollars you can get like 4 huge ass margaritas like its nothing, which sure beats out the Chili’s I went to last year. The game plan: invite as many people over my apartment from the hours of 3-5 pm, chug tequila, then call a cab to this godforsaken bar which is conveniently 4 minutes down the road (better safe than sorry). Upon arrival I will chug more tequila from 530-10pm. Then back to the cab.

 Seriously guys, chugging tequila and calling for a ride home go taco and taco, I mean hand and hand. So be safe, have fun and try to not make too much of a jackass out of yourselves this year! EY EY EY!

Drunk words: Sober thoughts or intoxicated nonsense?

If you consider college a culture you know that being constantly drunk is just a way of life. It is truly a work of art. Just like the cliché you will always hear coming from some 30-something-year old at the bar who misses their crazy glory days, “DUDE, when I was in college all I did was get hammered, barely made it to class, played video games…oh and more drinking.” Annoying, but actually quite accurate.

            So how come for a culture that is in a reoccurring state of being boozed out are we not drunk-convo literate?

[def.] drunk-convo literacy: able to decode drunk assholes conversations for what it really is.

            All jokes aside right now, here is the perfect example of D-CL: It was my freshman year and literally everyone was hooking up with everyone. I think my school mates were kind of like “Wooooo it’s college lets get it!”. This was also the year of the blossoming phrase, “YOLO”. Anyways, I remember this one couple vividly that was hooking up and let me tell you, they were as mismatched as a couple as Miley Cyrus is wearing a drug rug. The thing was everybody knew they were only a thing because of one reason: Whenever they hung out they were always messed up. Like, alone, they were drunks-… and together, they were a walking talking shit show.

            I was only slightly close enough to both parties to get the jist of their relationship. They had gotten drunk together for like 5 Thursdays in a row so they had to make it official. They would drunkenly tell each other how “much they liked each other” and how “there was a connection” they couldn’t deny. And everyone else was all You guys are fucking weird together.

            As life often goes, the spark fizzled out and the two went their separate ways. Aka they finally hung out sober and realized they had nothing in common besides, well…drinking.

            You see, what must have happened is they sobered the hell up and realized they didn’t like each other that much and really had no “connection”. Had they been D-CL they would have realized that by “liking each other so much” they really meant “wow, we get along together great after 10 pm, and our friend groups work out together too”. And by “connection” they “couldn’t deny” really meant “We kick ass as a ruit team”. Go figure. But they aren’t the only victims of drunken words.

“OMG take my number, wait you probably have it saved??!! We HAVE to hang out tomorrow! I miss youuu!”

D-CL: We used to hang out, and now I don’t give you the time of day. Since I ran into you at this party I should act like I will put in more of an effort from here on out (I won’t though).

“I miss ya faceee, come to my dorm after thissss?”

D-CL: I miss that ass, let me get a little more drunk so I can spend some more time with people I actually miss

“You are beautiful, kiss me?”

D-CL: You look hot as hell right now. Maybe its beer goggles. Whatever, lets get this started already.

Just to clarify, I don’t solidly believe that all drunken words are bullshit. Sometimes we really say what we mean and mean what we say! Its us, just us a little more, uh…. Intense? For example, when I look at my close girlfriend in the eyes and say “WE ARE TOTALLY GOING FOR A RUN TOMORROW” I don’t actually mean stay in bed all day puking from this killer hang over, I really believe we are going to go for a run. It’s totally sick right? Just understand that even sincere words are not always true, because after a couple of shots of tequila you are Superwoman/Superman.  It.Is.Not.Real.Life.

Ladies, if a dude says he really likes you after he just funneled a beer please don’t bring it up the next day at “Lets get breakfast and talk about how drunk we were last night” and actually believe it. When guys are drunk they love attention, I mean they love it from girls anyways but it is a 10 fold after a few beers.

Heed my warning of drunken words my friends. Don’t fall victim.

I’m Going Through A Quarter Life “Crisis”

        It all started on a day like any other. There I was getting ready for a somewhat easy schedule, with a smile planted on my naive face because after my first and only class I was going to relax then go out for some drinks. I took a hot shower; blow dried my hair and applied a good amount of make up (you can tell this was a good day because I try to avoid the last two of those steps regularly). Then it happened.

            As I turned on my hair straightener I tried to fix my side part, and there it was- staring at me. Laughing at me even. A big, long, ugly gray hair. Just one. One was all it took for me to transform from a bright-eyed bushy tailed woman, to a damaged fragile soul. It was all I could think about all day; I called my mom and everything. Needless to say she didn’t feel bad for me, in fact, she said something along the lines of, “This is only the beginning my love…”

            The beginning?! Nonsense! Not on my freaking watch! I decided I would have to put an end to it immediately. It took a few weeks, but it quickly became a reality that the more I tried to run from it, the faster it would catch up to me. The rebellion inside my head was turning on me. I still don’t know what to do.

            I tried everything, and I mean everything. First thing on my list was to get drunk as shit. Yeah, as a college student I do that anyways but I was willing to take it to the next level.

 Alicia, let me reintroduce you to Vodka. Vodka, Alicia. Now that you two have had a moment to reconnect, have fun you guys! See you in the morning.

–Alicia’s Sanity

            So…long story short it didn’t work out. The only thing the vodka did to me was turn me into Angry Spice. Angry Spice cried about her gray hair to attractive guys at the bar all the night, and yelled at her innocent friends on the sidelines. Then as if that wasn’t heinous enough, I woke up with a hang over so detestable that I missed one of my classes. Who cares, right? Wrong. This brings me to my next point.

Exhibit A: Why am I being so responsible?! I skipped class, okay there’s always that. What did I do all day? Ask my poor roommate (who probably wasn’t happy with Angry Spice anyways). All fucking day I complained about skipping that class. All fucking day. I was actually upset with myself just thinking about the material I missed. I mean I was dealing with some real genuine guilt. WHY! Literally who CARES that I missed ONE class. I knew I was losing it at that point.

Exhibit B: Recently one of my guy friends from home wanted to hang out and catch up. First of all I was acting like a freak of nature, because my hometown is only 25 minutes away from my college so I go back there all the time. However after “the incident” (aka gray hair) I drove to my hometown and felt like a different person. I met up at the local gas station and felt awkwardly nostalgic. “I remember this from high school/I remember that from high school”. Okay Alicia calm down. Its been a hot minute since you were in high school so knock it off. What happened next was outrageous. My male friend asked if I wanted to split a bag of weed, which was nothing  too out there when I lived at home, I dabbled all the time with that shit. I went through my purse and noticed my credit card was still at my college. I had $12 in cash. What did I say to him? I said, “I wish I could but I only have a few dollars on me and I think I’m ganna pick up milk and scrubbing bubbles for my bathroom in Bridgewater.” WHAT. Yep. S-c-r-u-b-b-i-n-g BUBBLES. That is what I wanted to do with that money. I so badly wish I was making this up. SCRUBBING BUBBLES. I actually still can’t get over it. Scrubbing fucking bubbles.

Exhibit C: You guys know that feeling you get when you are about to do something exciting? Now I don’t mean normal exciting like getting drunk or going on a date you’ve been looking for. I am talking like, 6 Flags excited. With 6 Flags you can see yourself the entire car ride up imagining which rides you will go on first, and make up this whole weird scenario about little details that revolve around your experience at the park. Well this happened to me, except it was about IKEA.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

Yes IKEA. Okay let me be fair about this one though. First of all I was on a serious journey with my neighbor because he said he would buy me a plant for baby-sitting his plants all of winter break. I never thought I would see the day where I would be hyped about going plant shopping, but whatever. So anyways all day I told people I was going to IKEA for the first time- that’s about how far I got before someone stopped me to say YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO IKEA?!?! Uh, no? What is the big deal? I was under the impression it was just like a Target or something. I was very wrong. 

I was so hyped up by 5 pm that by the time class got out I demanded we hit the road right away. That entire ride up I did that whole 6 Flags imagine thing I was talking about. I pictured myself looking at many plants, eating a hot dog (I was told there was food there). I saw myself comparing and contrasting plants trying to decide which was best for my apartment. Ask anyone I went with, I almost pissed my pants (literally) out of excitement when I saw elevators. 3 floors of home décor!? NO WAY. IKEA was more heavenly than I could have ever imagined. See that right there is a huge problem. Huge.

            I am honestly reaching out to all of my readers. What is a girl supposed to do? There I was for 21 years trying (way to hard) to grow up fast, and now I just want to go back or stop time. I know some people who are around my age and getting pregnant and its not even weird! As in I am actually congratulating them, because this is an actual age people have kids and get married. In only a year I need to find a real job and start looking for real life candidates for husbands. I don’t think those actually go hand in hand but common. I am freaking out here! The worst part about this is what my mom said is ever so valid, “This is only the beginning…”

It really is.