zoegirl:
you did not
mad maddie:
yeah, we actually did. me, Zara, Nekkid Neesa, and this guy Neesa’s going out with named Leon.
zoegirl:
Maddie, you are full of it. this time you really are making this up, aren’t you? to make fun of me?
mad maddie:
um, if I wanted to make fun of you—which I don’t—I think I’d do it by making fun of you.
mad maddie:
you said you’re worried I’m depressed. I said I’m not. I’m now giving proof, all right?
zoegirl:
you also said you’re a nihilist. like, ten seconds ago. and now everything’s “golden”?
mad maddie:
we rented a Zipcar and Zara drove us to the airport and we got all the way to the ticket counter before Leon remembered that he was terrified of flying. Zara said she’d just give him some anti-anxiety meds, but then she realized she didn’t have any.
zoegirl:
Maddie?
mad maddie:
yes?
zoegirl:
nvm. they’re calling me over to time the wheelchair race. mwah!
Thu, Oct 24, 2:22 PM P.D.T.
mad maddie:
it has not stopped raining since Wednesday. Santa Cruz, you so crazy.
SnowAngel:
I thought CA was the Land of Sunshine.
mad maddie:
exactamundo. where’s my vitamin D?
mad maddie:
so have you lost that weight yet?
SnowAngel:
*gives Maddie the finger*
mad maddie:
ooo, a finger! yay! already got ten of them, tho, so I’m tossing it back atcha.
SnowAngel:
you, go stand in the corner.
mad maddie:
what? why? I’m just being a supportive friend by asking how the Fatty Patty problem is going.
SnowAngel:
stop it, Maddie. yr being mean.
mad maddie:
omg, I teased Zoe and she got all huffy too. such drama queens.
SnowAngel:
*gazes at friend reproachfully*
mad maddie:
fine. I take back the Fatty Patty remark. GEEZ.
SnowAngel:
I *was* going to tell you something really sweet that Reid did, but I’m no longer in the mood. call me later, when you’re back to being yourself!
Thu, Oct 24, 5:40 PM E.D.T.
SnowAngel:
Maddie just called me Fatty Patty.
zoegirl:
are you serious?
zoegirl:
what is going on with her?
SnowAngel:
wish I knew. she blamed it on us, said we’re drama queens.
zoegirl:
maybe she’s having a bad day. or a bad week. there’s something up with her for sure, but every time I try to call her on it, she finds a way to duck the question.
SnowAngel:
if something’s wrong, why won’t she tell us about it? why won’t she let us be a shoulder for her to cry on?
zoegirl:
um, because Maddie doesn’t cry?
SnowAngel:
but that’s stupid.
SnowAngel:
she prolly thinks she’s “being strong.” but it doesn’t count if it makes her mean.
zoegirl:
she’s not truly mean, though. not deep down.
SnowAngel:
whatever
SnowAngel:
wanna hear something super-sweet that Reid did?
zoegirl:
absolutely!
SnowAngel:
he knows I haven’t been feeling so great about myself, and UNLIKE Maddie, he wanted to help me feel better. so he came to my room and we watched “Juno” on his laptop. remember that movie?
zoegirl:
about the girl who gets pregnant in high school? I thought it was great, but you said it was too indie for yr taste.
SnowAngel:
did I?
zoegirl:
you also said that looking at the boyfriend character burned your retinas because he was so dorky.
zoegirl:
Michael Cera! yes! I can’t believe I called his name up!
SnowAngel:
excuse me, but those track shorts? his skinny pale thighs? that horrible sweatband . . . ?
SnowAngel:
doesn’t matter, tho, cuz he was a good guy. somehow I missed that the first time I saw the movie.
zoegirl:
or maybe you’ve changed since the first time you saw the movie. maybe you’ve learned that dorky boys—cough cough Reid cough cough—aren’t as bad as you thought.
SnowAngel:
for the record, Reid is waaaaay cuter than the Michael Cera character whose name I can’t remember.
zoegirl:
oh, is he, now?
SnowAngel:
ignoring!
SnowAngel:
do you remember when Juno asks her dad if love is even possible, and if so, if it can last?
zoegirl:
ha. I’ve wondered that myself.
SnowAngel:
oh shit, Zoe. *facepalm*
SnowAngel:
was not talking about Doug, I swear. did NOT mean to bring up bad memories.
zoegirl:
I know. it’s fine. go on.
SnowAngel:
well, Juno’s dad is all grizzled and rough around the edges. NOT touchy-feely at all.
SnowAngel:
but he gives Juno an honest answer. he says, “The best thing you can do is find someone who loves you when you’re pretty, when you’re ugly, when you’re mad, when you’re happy. Someone who, no matter what, is still going to think the sun shines out of your ass.”
zoegirl:
aw. it’s not the way I would have put it, but . . . yeah.
SnowAngel:
and then Reid paused the movie, looked straight at me, and said, “Ok, Angela? Ok?”
zoegirl:
oh my god. was he saying he LOVES you?
SnowAngel:
no!!!!
SnowAngel:
he was saying that fifteen pounds doesn’t mean anything. that it doesn’t change who I really am.
zoegirl:
he was saying more than that, Angela. and he has excellent taste. you’re awesome.
SnowAngel:
*plugs ears* la la la can’t hear u la la la
zoegirl:
do you like him back? I’m not suggesting you’re in love with him, but you talk about him A LOT. to me it seems like you think of him as more than just a friend.
SnowAngel:
Zoe, some of my Zeta sisters saw Reid and me at Shakes Alive. they saw Reid, they looked at Reid, and then they looked very deliberately at me. they made it clear, the next time I was at the Zeta house, that Reid was not boyfriend material.
zoegirl:
how did they do that?
SnowAngel:
by saying, and I quote, “Angie, darlin’, your friend is a doll, but you do know that he’s not boyfriend material for an Alpha Zeta . . .”
SnowAngel:
pretty hard to misinterpret, wldn’t you say?
zoegirl:
but . . . ick! that is wrong on so many levels!
SnowAngel:
*shrugs*
zoegirl:
do they really call you Angie?
SnowAngel:
sometimes
zoegirl:
do they really call you darlin’???
SnowAngel:
darlin’ or slut, depending on the situation.
SnowAngel:
but not just me. everyone’s either a darling or a slut.
zoegirl:
BUT ANGELA. you wouldn’t honestly let your sorority sisters, or anyone else, tell you who you could go out with, would you?
zoegirl:
and *do* you like Reid in the
going-out-with way???
SnowAngel:
argggh
SnowAngel:
he’s my best UGA friend, other than Anna. we see each other every day. he makes me laugh, and he cheers me up when I’m feeling down.
zoegirl:
he goes on late-night donut runs for you . . .
SnowAngel:
he goes on late-night donut runs for me . . .
SnowAngel:
but do I *like* him like him?
SnowAngel:
zoegirl:
if you can’t flat-out say no, that itself says something.
SnowAngel:
sighhhhhhh
zoegirl:
all right, try this. if you were going on a two-day car trip with someone, would you rather go with Reid or your sorority sisters?
SnowAngel:
there are over 300 Zetas, Zoe. 300 Zetas plus me wld not fit in a car.
zoegirl:
hardy hardy har
zoegirl:
in that case, would you rather go on a car trip with Anna or with Reid?
SnowAngel:
where are we going?
SnowAngel:
also, that’s not fair. that’s asking me to choose b/w two friends, not b/w a friend and a sorority sister.
zoegirl:
so your sorority sisters aren’t your friends . . . ?
SnowAngel:
*strangles Zoe*
SnowAngel:
enough, you annoying person! you’ve made your point!
zoegirl:
good!
zoegirl:
what point?
SnowAngel:
I don’t know, except that initiation is in two weeks. that’s when I go from being a pledge to being a full-fledged sister, so . . .
SnowAngel:
do I go thru with it or not?
zoegirl:
God, don’t ask me!
Fri, Oct 25, 4:05 PM E.D.T.
SnowAngel:
omg, you guys. today has been SUCK.
SnowAngel:
showed up for pledge meeting with my hair in a ponytail and was told I looked like hell.
SnowAngel:
so I returned to dorm room to fix hair before going to frat party tonight, and guess what?
SnowAngel:
Lucy! at my bureau, with A BLOB OF MY PHILOSOPHY HOPE IN A JAR MOISTURIZER IN A DIXIE CUP!
SnowAngel:
I was like, “Lucy???”
SnowAngel:
and then she squealed and dropped the dixie cup, meaning that my Hope in a Jar was now “hope splattered on gross dorm room floor.”
SnowAngel:
“LUCY?!!!” I said again, very sternly. “wld you care to explain?”
SnowAngel:
“explain what?” she asked.
SnowAngel:
“why you’re stealing my beauty products!!!!” I yelled. I’m telling you, I wanted to strangle that girl!
SnowAngel:
first she blushed, and then all the color drained out of her face. and then . . . and THEN!
SnowAngel:
“you mean this?” she said, pointing at the floor where the splattered moisturizer was. “it’s not yours. how do you know it’s yours?”
SnowAngel:
“because it IS,” I said.
SnowAngel:
“are you sure?” Lucy said. “I mean, you have so much beauty stuff. so many types and kinds of products . . . maybe you’re confused.”
SnowAngel:
and then she gestured at my night cream and my Kate Somerville deep tissue repair cream and the Laura Mercier foundation that I sometimes mix with my moisturizer since it’s too thick on its own. also my Tarte maracuja oil, which you KNOW I love, and my cheek color and my lip stain and all my lipglosses and eyeshadows and primers and mascaras and my Shu Uemura eyelash curler and EVERYTHING.
SnowAngel:
wtfffffffffffff?
SnowAngel:
do I enjoy beauty products? yes.
SnowAngel:
do I have so many that I get confused about what’s mine and what isn’t? hells no! and even if I did, does that give Lucy the right to help herself to whatever she wants?
SnowAngel:
not to mention that you CAN’T share mascara or you could get eye diseases, unless that’s a myth, but anyway, gross! no thank you, Lucy’s eyelashes!
SnowAngel:
I told her, calmly, that I was very aware of my beauty product inventory, and that I was not and never wld be confused about such an important topic.
SnowAngel:
she said, “why are you yelling?”
SnowAngel:
she tried to hide something behind her back, but I wrestled it away, and it was a Ziploc bag full of other tubes and little containers and half a dozen of my individually wrapped facial wipes. I said, “omigod are you a psycho? are you a HOARDER?”
SnowAngel:
she said ow and started hunting for a Band-Aid, but I was so not letting her off the hook just because of a little blood.
SnowAngel:
“this is MY STUFF, Lucy,” I said. “you can’t take my stuff without asking.”
SnowAngel:
“I’m not,” she said. her eyes were huge and starting to look teary, which pissed me off even more because it made me feel sorry for her even though she was the psycho hoarder, not me.
SnowAngel:
“then who is?” I said. “your invisible friend named Marge?”
SnowAngel:
“Marge?” she said, wrinkling her forehead.
SnowAngel:
“and what wld happen if I went and searched behind the dumpster, huh?” I said. “wld I discover your stash—I mean Marge’s stash—of stolen contraband? HMMMM?”
SnowAngel:
I was proud of myself for “contraband,” btw. I felt very “Law & Order,” and the only thing that ruined it was her stupid trembling lip, because then I felt like a huge jerk. I rubbed my hand over my face and said, “fine. whatever. just . . . leave my stuff alone. I don’t mess with YOUR stuff, do I?”
SnowAngel:
she said in this tiny voice, “you can if you want to,” and suddenly *I* was the big jerk, or that’s what it felt like. because she was being so meek and I was being so . . . not.
SnowAngel:
I had to get out of there because I didn’t know what to think, or what to say, and when you have to escape YOUR OWN ROOM in order to not feel guilty about the fact that yr psycho roommate is messing with your stuff, you know things are bad.
SnowAngel:
I didn’t even get to do my hair, because my straightening iron is in my room, while I am sitting in the hall with my hair still in a ponytail.
SnowAngel:
SHE EVEN SMELLED LIKE LA LA MALIBU, WHICH AS YOU KNOW IS MY SIGNATURE SCENT!
SnowAngel:
she claimed it was an “accident.” that it “spilled” when she was reaching for something else, and that she actually felt faint because of how strong it was. OMFG!!!!!!!!!
Fri, Oct 25, 2:47 PM P.D.T.
mad maddie:
are you still locked out of your room, Ms. Ponytailed and Pathetic?
SnowAngel:
not “locked out.” self-exiled.
SnowAngel:
and no. I’m now in the convenience store on the first floor of my dorm, cuz Lucy *also* stole my box of Kleenex, the good kind with lotion.
SnowAngel:
the only Kleenex they sell here is the scratchy institutional-grade Kleenex that isn’t even real Kleenex. it’s called “Dub’l Puff 1-ply Facial Tissue.” I don’t even know where to begin.
mad maddie:
I don’t either.
mad maddie:
if it’s 1-ply, shldn’t it be called Sing’l Puff?
SnowAngel:
I was sitting outside in the hall, but the longer I sat there, the more worked up I got. finally I told myself, “Angela, this is stupid. yo
u are allowed to go into your own room.”
mad maddie:
right you are
SnowAngel:
so I did, and I saw that she’d put back my moisturizer and the tubes of makeup-y stuff. yay, right?
SnowAngel:
but nooooo, cuz she rewarded herself for being so virtuous by stealing my box of Kleenex instead. *throws hands up in air*
mad maddie:
what’d you do?
SnowAngel:
I said, “Lucy? why did you take my box of Kleenex?” and she blinked really fast and said, “what box of Kleenex?”