Are you pro-titty?

That question basically sums up my weekend. Only Robin will truly understand the significance.

Last week I was at home in boring old Northern Virginia with nothing to do but sleep all day. Robin was my salvation. She took me out most nights even though she worked like a dog all day long cleaning swimming pools. I caught up with a few other friends and went to an oral surgeon for my wisdom teeth consult, but that’s about it.

On Friday night Robin and I, along with Matty G and some other kids from high school, went to T.T. Reynolds in Fairfax, a bar that we’ve been frequenting since Christmas break. Fun times, but there is always a lack of cute guys there. Maybe we’re going to the wrong bar. I still got ridiculously drunk and ended up falling flat on my ass while walking to the bathroom. Right on the sticky, dirty floor in front of a bar packed with people. That was probably the least of the embarrassing things that I did on Friday night, but my mom reads this so I can’t go into anymore detail.

Saturday night Robin and I hung out with Erin and Scott and then went to a toga party at our old friend Dan’s apartment in Arlington. Robin and I had very scandalous togas, if you can call them that. We basically wrapped this transparent netting stuff around ourselves and called it a toga. But hey, let me tell you, we didn’t get any complaints regarding our noncompliance. One girl thought I was just wearing a shirt…I was like.. no... I don’t wear clothes like this, it’s a toga. Anyway, Robin and I kicked Dan’s ass in beer pong, did some catching up and met some cool people. Dan’s girlfriend is very nice. His roommate is super fun, too.

Dan, you should have more parties. I would go to them. And I forgot to tell you that De Soto sent his “regards”. Whatever that means.

Anyway, I wish I had not been a slacker and that I didn’t have to take this summer class… but I do. I forgot how depressing summer on this campus can be. I should be home in Centreville most weekends only because there is really nothing to do here and at least at home I can see my girls and eat my parents’ food.

Almost out.

Barf.

Today my mom and I went to get some coffee at our local Starbucks and then went to the grocery store. We do this a lot whenever I'm home. Get coffee, sit, chat, eat a cookie, then go to the grocery store to figure out what to have for dinner. It's very nice.

But today, we came out of Starbucks and saw a young lady holding what looked like a baby duck. So, we went over to her and said "oh that's so cute!!" and all that. Because, well, baby ducks are cute. Turns out it's not a baby duck, it's a baby goose. It's fluff was kind of a lime green color with black speckles. A little weird looking but still cute. The girl said it had just hatched that day. Apparently this little goose's mother died and this girl saved the egg and hatched it or whatever.

Now, that's all fine and good. Then someone asked how she'd been feeding it. She said that she chews up crackers and spits the remnants into the little goose's mouth. Okay.. does she think she's a bird? And then she proceeded to give us a demonstration and stuck the bird's beak in her mouth. "Like this, then he will open his mouth and take the food." Basically it looked like she was french kissing a goose.

That's love and dedication for you.

She tries her luck with the traffic police

Yesterday, I went to court.

I got caught going twenty miles over the speed limit on I-81 which runs through JMU. 85 in a 65. Brilliant. I didn't even make up some excuse at to why I was speeding or cry or anything when I got pulled over at 10:50pm on the Wednesday night before I was to meet Tori Amos.

It was my first ticket ever, so I go to court in downtown Woodstock, Virginia and listen to the judge chew people out for going 78 in a 65. I'm sitting there with my dad thinking, "Shit. I'm dead."

"I don't care if your cruise control was broken, anything over 65 on 81 is speeding," the judge says to some poor guy who thought he could talk his way out of his ticket.

I get up there and plead guilty, because, let's face it, I can't deny the fact that I was speeding. I speed more than I'd like to admit and it was honestly just a matter of time before I got caught. And anyone who has been in the car with me knows what a lousy driver I am. Anyway, to my surprise, he knocks it down to 79, charges me 100 bucks and sends me on my way because it was a first offense.

Whew. Sweet. The DMV doesn't even get notified and my insurance won't go up and no points get put on my license. And my dad was there to pay the bill.

I got lucky.

In other news, last week my Uncle Chris broke up with his girlfriend that he met on the internet because she wanted to have sex too much. Weird, huh?

It's cool though.