A Very Lucky Girl

Tuesday night featured the closest thing to free porn debuting on TVs across the world. The Victoria Secret Angels and Justin Beiber strutted their stuff on the stage, making nearly every viewing girl vow to start the Spring Break diet now. I attended a watch party at the ever-popular Seven47 on Campus Corner hosted by my dear friend, Natasha. She has been the campus intern for Victoria's Secret Pink this year and I've benefited greatly from her job, scoring free yoga pants, underwear, water bottle, and duffel bags. I also may or may not have left the watch party with 14 Victoria's Secret Rewards cards worth up to $500 each. Granted, 13 of them were only worth $10, but I got one lucky $50! Prior to the kickoff of the underwear fest I scrolled through twitter and saw a plethora of updates, some directing me towards drinking games (i.e. Chug everytime an angel trips, sip whenever you hear someone around you say they aren't ever eating again) and others already demeani...

I'm almost 20. My closet looks like the closet of a 14 year old. Well, at least, it did. I remedied that situation this past weekend while I was home for Spring Break. Jean skirts galore. I'm so ashamed. 3 of them. I'm not sure which is worse, the long Amish one or the two mini ones. But to complete the ensemble I found a cropped jean jacket buried in the back. Spandexy jean material. I have spent the entire semester judging the GDI ginger in my English class for wearing a jean jacket nearly every day (I was informed he has upped the standard to Hawaiian shirts now because of the weather change) when I had one hidden in my closet. It would be a double standard, except I have the good sense not to wear it!  I often complain about not being recognized as an adult. The TSA agent at the airport looked at me skeptically when I had the audacity to claim the ability to travel alone, certain that I had forged my license proving otherwise (let's be real here, I would have at...

Paul and Shari (my parents) are currently spending the week in Seattle, coffee capital of America. Which is especially fitting because Paul has managed to make Starbucks a food group. I place all blame on him for my addiction to Java Chip Frappuccinos.  While they are making good choices culinary-wise, Paul needs a personal shopping companion (Shari isn't cutting it) so that he never pays money for a look like this again.  I tried to stop him. Really, I did. But there is only so much I can do from Norman while they are out gallivanting across the country. Shari informed me of his impending travesty and my fingers immediately typed out, "stop him." Isn't that the reflex you had whilst looking upon this photo and trying to pause the gag reflex? It's universal. Fearing that Shari wouldn't pass on my message, I took matters into my own hands and texted him, advising him to think very carefully about his wardrobe choices. His response? Take a look. (For t...