Jennifer

Heres a how to be the best girlfriend ever. For all the 40+ men in Pakistan, you can read this and then go cry because you are not dating me I must admit, however, that these are just ideas. I don't do half of these things because a) I am not a slave or a pushover and b) I am sometimes kindof extremely lazy.

1. Sleep either in silky nighties with lace or nothing at all. No one wants to see you in an oversized T-shirt from summer camp.
2. Find out what his favorite sweet is-- cookies, cakes, brownies. Surprise him with these. If he likes pot, bake a few grams into it.
3. Buy new lingerie frequently.
4. Make sure you look extra hot when he introduces you to his friends.
5. Holding his hand or kissing his neck in private is good, but don't do this in public unless he initiates it. Try to keep your hormones under control when you are drinking.
6. Dont let him see you applying make-up unless it's lipstick, which can be sexy. Covering up your zits and de-clumping your mascara is not hot.
7. Ask him what his favorite book is. Read it. Or buy the cliffs notes or something.
8. Strip for him. (The Carmen Electra striptease video is a good teacher.)
9. Only make positive remarks about other girls, unless they just have it coming or something. Jealousy = insecurity = very unattractive.
10. Get up earlier than him and surprise him with coffee
11. ...or better yet, surprise him with breakfast in bed.
12. ...or better yet, surprise him with sex. Morning sex is great, since most guys are already hard.
13. Thank him when he pays for things. This is the 21st century; guys don't have to do this all the time.
14. When he comes over, be doing something sexy like rubbing scented lotion on your just-shaved legs. Don't be doing something gross like eating bon bons or cutting your toenails.
15. Take an interest in his hobbies. If he likes football, at least learn the basics of the sport so you can watch games with him and not seem like an idiot.
16. Go down on him before sex. Not only do most boys like head, but also it will make him harder, and the sex will be better for you too.
17. If he takes you out for dinner, make sure you are hungry and actually eat something. If you don't eat anything hell kinda feel like hes wasting his money, not to mention that you'll seem insecure and anorexic.
18. Learn to be good on top. Practice makes perfect.
19. Buy expensive, high-thread count sheets and a silk comforter. This will entice him to sleepover, and if it doesn't at least you have a goddess lair you can lounge around in and feel pretty.
20. Keep your room looking decent-- especially keep gross things like used Kleenexes, dirty undies, and anything even slightly suggestive of your period out of sight.
21. Be polite to your friends and family on the phone. If you're going to argue or be a huge bitch, wait til he's not around.
22. Back massages are good, but scalp massages are better. Learn to give both.
23. Surprise him in the shower once. It will make for hot sex. If he is really tall this probably won't work, trust me...
24. If you are mad, tell him why. He can't read your mind. Hiding anger is also really obvious and childish.

For all you left-out guys, I'm talking to my sorority sisters to make list of how to be a good boyfriend. This poses a bit more of a challenge though, since girls are pretty complicated to begin with, and I kinda hate most of them.

I have come to the conclusion that, at UT, a girl's level of craziness is directly porporitional to how underweight she is. ESPECIALLY IF SHE IS IN A SORORITY. If a chick is a little skinny, chances are she's only a tiny bit insane. But if she's near skeletal-slim, get the fuck away from her as fast as you possibly can.

Some (if not all) of the following traits apply to super skinny girls:
- Extremely self-conscious, constantly complains about how "fat" she is
- Has terrible relationship with family members and/or friends
- Shares highly personal information with complete strangers
- Clingy
- Obsessive (about exercise, weight, food, sex, etc.)
- Stalks ex-boyfriends, crushes, enemies, etc.
- Drug-addicted
- Desperate

Now let me explain, I'm not some bitter fattie-- at 5'5 I always stay under 130. I have arrived at the anorexic=crazy conclusion purely from my life experiences, especially in the Greek scene. Let me treat you with my most recent experience with a skinny, crazy bitch:

It's 2:30AM on a drunk Saturday night, and my quasi-boyfriend's phone won't stop ringing. Finally it almost vibrates off the counter. I laugh. He sighs, finally flips it open, and rather unenthusiastically answers, "Hello?"

I hear a female voice whining on the other line. Cape shrugs and invites the mystery girl over to come drink with us. I don't think this will be a big deal-- I like all his friends. Well, little do I know a hundred pounds of craziness is about to invade his apartment.

The pale wisp of a girl smiles and introduces herself to me as Elizabitch, er, I mean Elizabeth. She promptly removes a bag from her bra and cuts up lines of cocaine while telling me about her abortion and bipolar disorder. This is all within five minutes of meeting her.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

As if this isn't enough, the coke whore (who a friend creatively nicknamed "the cokie monster") grabs my man Cape's hand and begins flirting with him creeptastically. No girl should throw herself at a guy when his girlfriendish chick, or "love girl" as she calls me, is sitting on his bed watching. Her alarming behavior continues, and we hear about the times she tried to kill herself.

Finally the night winds down and she leaves us, probably to go cry and write suicidal poetry or something. I laugh off the experience as best I can and figured I'll probably never run into the Cokie Monster again. If only this held true...

Wow, long time without an update. Life has taken a turn for the wild ever since spring break began last Friday. Saturday my sorority sister Bennett, the quasi-boyfriend Cape, and I drove down to the beach to see my best friend Beckett's band play. Beckett got raging drunk and passed out onstage. I love him. Later we partied like rockstars at the Flagship hotel in the water.

See-- it really is IN the water.

Seven of us crammed into one hotel room. Although sharing a hotel room with a bunch of your friends can make for quite the party, it often leaves you sexless since there's no privacy. I guess things could work out if you're into orgys, which I'm not. You know, I think I would say yes to a threesome with my quasi-boyfriend and another girl if first I could have a threesome with him and another guy of my choice... oooh or maybe a foursome... oooh or a fivesome! Just tie them up on my bed and ravish them one at a time. I wouldn't allow the guys to touch each other. Hmmm I guess that's not technically an orgy. You know I'm completely kidding about this stuff, well, mostly.

South by Southwest music festival started yesterday. Over 1,000 bands gather from around the globe to play in Austin's downtown bars. Unfortunately I can't get into many shows since I'm only 20. Life is rough for us underage college girls. I've been hanging out with this band called The Heights that I met while backpacking around Rome two summers ago. I tried to show them around Austin... but we ended up drinking beer at my place.

theheightsuk.com
The little feller on the left-- Chris Carr-- bought me drinks and held my hand. I think guys hold girls' hands to test the waters. You know, they gauge your response to the hand holding and decide if they have a shot at fucking you later. I wasn't really feeling him despite his messy hair and cute/incomprehensible Welsh accent. Sadly for Chris, he went to sleep high and dry.

high and dry
adjective
1. Helpless and disappointed because you did not receive something that you expected to get or were previously promised. (a ride, drugs, moral support, sex...)
I spooned with a pillow and left the Welsh guitarist high and dry on the other side of the bed.

He left his wallet on my nightstand. Of course I inspected its contents. What does a Welsh man keep in his wallet? $150 and three condoms. Doesn't three seem excessive? I have to go downtown and bring it back to him tonight. Honestly I don't wanna leave my apartment. Especially to go downtown. I'd rather curl up with some peanut butter sandwiches and watch Coffee and Cigarettes.

I drove home to Houston this weekend and missed yet another sorority semi-formal Saturday. I actually really really wanted to go to this one, but wouldn't have had anyone to take because that guy I'm sleeping with was busy Saturday paying two lesbian strippers to come fuck each other in his living room or something.

Yeah, I don't want to think about it.

So, instead, I ran away to Houston. I met up with some old friends of mine-- Cameron and Steven. Steven is a metrosexual Jewish guy and works as a stand-up comic. Cameron is a communist who hates Greek life and has lived in Germany for the past three years. I think for a while Cameron and I were kindof infatuated with each other. Maybe not, because he's gay or something. I don't want to think about this either.

Cameron, Steven and I drank heavily in my bedroom and made fun of everyone we know until we passed out. Or I guess the passing-out part was just me. I woke up a few hours later shaking almost uncontrollably, terrified by some awful nightmare. I've dreamt the most fucked up things recently.

Today I went jogging/walking with my sorority sisters Kirsty and Bianca around this super polluted ugly lake. I wish we had a tape recorder, because when three college girls get together the conversation can get hilarious. For example, we walked past some fragrant flowers, and I said, "Ohmahgah, what is that smell? It's great!"

Then Bianca replied, "That would so make such a good laundry detergent fragrance."
Kirsty frowned and said, "No, it's more like an air-freshener scent, you know?"
Then we all nodded in agreement. Girls are so dumb sometimes. I love them.

Kirsty (that's pronounced keer-stee) told me about how she randomly boned this guy I went to high school with. Well, actually she might not have technically boned him. She doesn't remember. The condom wrappers on the floor pointed to yes. She scored the sweetest shack gear* ever though.

*Shack gear= the clothes that the guy you sexed gives you the next morning so you don't have to walk home in your party dress. All fratty gentlemen supply them. The better the clothes, the more he likes you. If he asks for the shirt back, you have to return it within one week.

He gave Kirsty a navy SigEp frat pocket-tee and Ralph Lauren polo boxers. It almost makes me miss the frat scene. Almost.

Bianca and I are hanging around Austin this spring break to go to this stellar music fest we have called South By South West. A few bands I'm sorta friends are playing-- The Glass Family and The Heights. Then my mom tells me that she used to babysit the lead singer/pianist from this pretty cool band called Sound Team. Our moms are friends and chat in the grocery store line. Naturally, they're trying to set us up. Fine by me-- musicians are great lays and always full of entertaining emoitional baggage. And when they fuck you they play you... they slide their hands down your back, then across your neck like to another fret or something. Whenever one kisses me I lose my ability to think. By the morning after I'm practically half in love.