Memory Monday

Now that I’m planning on going back to school, I’ve been reminiscing a bit about my first round of college. Any story about my college experience would be incomplete without a mention of my ridiculous freshman roommate, Brittany. Here are a few of her funniest stories.


Frankly, my roommate freshman year was a hot mess. Her name was Brittany. Brittany loved make-up, hair dye, snapchat, and most of all: vodka. Brittany would go to Oshkosh (loving known by the locals as Sloshkosh) every weekend to party with the professionals. Every Friday morning Brittany would pack her make-up bag, a week’s worth of revealing clothes, and a bottle of vodka before hitting the road toward the party capital of Northeastern Wisconsin. Mind you, this bottle of vodka wasn’t to share. She would drink the entire thing by herself over the course of two nights. Not to mention the supplementally drinks provided by pre-gaming friends and friendly frat houses.

One of the most ridiculous things Brittany would do is follow groups of random people to try to catch the best party scene. She would separate from her friends, and roam Oshkosh for hours. Hop into any car promising free liquor and a good time. At the end of the night, when she was ready to go home, Brittany would call up her friends and say her favorite phrase, “Come find me.”

Any logical person would respond, “Okay. Where are you?”

Brittany would reply, “I don’t know. Come find me.”

“Do you have a house number? A street name? Anything?” her friends would entreat.

“No. And I don’t want to look stupid looking at the front of the house, and I don’t want to leave to check any street sign. Just party hop until you find me.”

Oh that Brittany. What a treasure.

Brittany was the type of girl to put on make up after sleeping through all of her class just so she could look pretty for her snapchat selfies.

Speaking of sleeping, this girl slept at least 18 hours a day. Seriously. No hyperbole. She had no shame about it either. I would come home from classes and want to do my homework, and she would throw a hissy fit at me for disturbing her by turning on my desk lamp. Because of this, I all but lived in the library my freshman year of college.

However, some days I just couldn’t be bothered to make the trek out to the library. Maybe it was too cold outside in the frozen tundra that is Green Bay, Wisconsin. Perhaps I didn’t want to deal with all of the stupid people, who right around finals time think that if they are physcally in the library, they will magically absorb the information in their textbook. (as it sits closed on the table in preference to a cellphone or a gossipy friend.) On these tragic days I would honest to god do my homework in the bathroom. No joke.


Moral of the story is, after an on-campus experience like that, no wonder online school appeals to me so much.


Photo Credit: My cross the hall neighbor Aaron Whyte.

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