Going to a school as small as the University of Hipsterville can often have its challenges.
- People talk
- You probably have made out with the same guy as 2-3 people in your class each semester
- Everyone knows everyone’s business
- friends (myself included) sign texts with XOXO Gossip Girl on the reg.
But recently I have felt very much like a new born baby giraffe at the zoo. Everyone comes to see the show.
Sometimes I think I’m completely paranoid. Sometimes I am being utterly and completely paranoid. And sometimes, well sometimes my distress is just fucking valid. Like I swear the other day I was casually eating my breakfast in the dining hall and I’m quite certain Dexter minion (the name I give to anyone idiotic enough to befriend him) took a picture of me… Not 100% certain, but quite certain. I mean hello, TURN OFF YOUR FLASH.
No matter who you are, everyone has an opinion and everyone seems to be watching what you do. And there’s no winning.
- You go party at the bars downtown, the rumor will spread that you’re partying too hard
- You aren’t seen out one weekend, you’re basically on suicide watch
- You start talking to a guy-you’re an automatic desperate slut
- You don’t talk to any guys-maybe you’re questioning your sexuality after such a bitter breakup.
The reason I currently feel like a baby giraffe is because of the DISASTER that has been my life this semester. Finding out my ex cheated with like, six mistresses, punching him in the side of the head a few times, taking off to Disney World alone. Mind you, these are on the examples from THE FIRST WEEKEND of the semester.
People I have never even spoke to once seem to be way too invested in my life and decisions. Yesterday, my hilarious and most rebellious friend Esme drunkenly told me about how a girl (a perfect stranger to me) had a whole conversation with her about why I should forgive Dexter and how I was so wrong for not and for shutting him out. First of all, ew. The stories aren’t interesting to me, why would anyone else find them interesting? People are getting involved and asking questions and making opinions like they are buying fucking stock in Apple. Second of all, how the fuck can someone judge me for cutting out the ass who cheated like a million times? I would’ve thought I’d be judged harder if I didn’t.
But I suppose this experience just comes with the territory of dating at a small university with a gender distribution of close to 70% female 30% male. Give it a weak and the vultures that are college kids will move on to their new scandal.