Ahem...you want me to run how much?!

It is currently 11:45 PM and I drank so much stinkin' tea that my eyes feel like they are glued open. Naturally I am utilizing this free time to update and creep on any and every social networking site that I am a part of.
I was thinking about blogging, and wondering if there was a good one out there about an athlete just living out their life trying to stay healthy and blah blah blah.  I came across some random boring as hell blogger who happened to write one tidbit of interesting info. It was six things that High School Athlete parents should know. About recruiting and scholarships and all that jazz. Considering that my first few posts are 75.23% lists, I feel the need to write another one.
A list of things athletes should know that they DO NOT tell you on recruiting trips!

Here we go.

First one:
If you think you can have friends outside of your team then you are sadddddly mistaken. Some people can do it! They can maintain relationships outside of the circle of bondage that is a college team. I believe that is extremely difficult. Let us add this up.
The NCAA allows 20 hours per week for the team. That leaves 148 hours in a week to yourself. Hopefully you try to get AT LEAST six hours of sleep each night which takes away 36 hours from your week. Minus the twelve hours you will be in class. Just hypothetically you take an hour to eat at each meal that leaves 79 hours to yourself. Subtract an hour a day you take to be a woman...shower, rinse, condition, shave your legs, wash your face, and brush your teeth. (Assuming that most women do that everyday).
Someone said something about doing homework in college, so if you take the time to do that you are at about 65 hours. GOOD GRIEF this is adding up! I am definitely a napper so I take about three hours out of the week for me to be flat on my face drooling on my pillow. We are at 62 hours and still subtracting people. Say that you spend about an hour with friends a day, that brings us down to 55. SHEESH that is a low number.
Please don't argue that you spend at least two hours a day on Facebook, dragging us down to 41 friggin' hours.
According to my calculations as a student athlete you have less than 48 hours to shoot the shit with your besties. Now if you actually studied the recommended amout that number would only be 33. Not to mention the extra time you burn to stay after practice and take extra reps. Or the physical therapy you may have to drag your ass to if you really go all out in practice everyday. Sometimes you get lucky and have a friend from high school in your class you'd like to study with. Which is nice, but when the semester is over better get a goodbye hug!
Hate to break it to ya sister, but take a good look around the locker room, when everyone is dressed of course!! Because if it isn't a holiday break you won't see anyone other than those girlies right there. Better break it to your mom easy...

Second one:
Unless you are willing to give up every kind of social interaction on the planet, then you better brace yourself for a 3.0 or below. There ARE those people that can sit in class half asleep and seem to absorb the information through their skin, and ace the tests without blinking an eye. But for the rest of us dumb asses that actually need to go over the material, we my friend are screwed. Hmmmmm, get so trashed you don't remember your name with the baseball team or stay in and study with your cat? Decisions decisions!

Third one:
Has anyone told you life is hard? Yeah well they should say that life is hard and then college athletics is harder. Just thinking about conditioning days just makes your stomach turn over and your eyes well up in tears. Keep in mind that when those coaches are buying you dinner, they are also wondering if you have what it takes to pass their run test when you come back from breaks. They run you until you are blind, make you lift weights until your hamstrings are so tight they could snap at any second, and then tell you its time for practice! All that  might be a bit of an exaggeration but  it's pretty spot on about how I feel most of the time.
I wasn't a napper until I got here. Now I lay down and take a snooze every thirty minutes I get the chance. Please believe that the Walgreens attendent probably thinks I am stocking up on Ibuprofen for a mass suicide or something. Although, if they make us do ten half gasers again then that just might be the case.

Fourth one:
This is something that is DEFINITELY not discussed in the contract.
Playing time.
You're not in Kansas anymore honey. Now you are in the big leagues and everyone is just as big as you are. Now if comes down to who stays at practice longer and whoever produces the most. It depends from coach to coach but it is a difficult thing to watch someone play your position and not know why they chose them instead of you.
OH and DO NOT ask how can you get more playing time. That is selfish. Ask what can you do to be a better player. It doesn't make you sound as much like an ass hole. This is something that I learned the hard way. I know the drill now that I am a junior, but freshman year that was a HARRRRD pill to swallow.

Fifth one:
If you are low on money. Don't even consider a job. We calculated the free time in a week. You know it's not possible so just forget it. Mommy and daddy are your source of cash now. So good luck with that!
So that's that. The ins and outs of being a college athlete.
After proofreading that, I feel a little depressed. I think it's time for the reasons you absolutely SHOULD be a college athlete.
They don't mention this shit either, or they might I don't really know. I only went on like two visits and both were prettttty shitty.

Being as close as you are to your team can get a bit ridiculous. Like mooning people on the bus during road trips, and making up dances to video and put on Youtube.
You always have drinking buddies, and you always will have someone to see that new movie with! Your poor boyfriend will most likely be hanging out with you and your team more than anyone and he will surprisingly love it. You will always have those stories about who ate shit at practice or who got their car broken into in the parking lot during practice.
Classes are fifty times better with a team mate and don't forget the lunch buddy possibilities.
You make friends and tell them things you haven't even told your childhood bestie. They don't judge or scold they just laugh along with you about that hook up you may or may not have had over fall break. There are always at least five other people around to make fun of the coach with you, and you will never be lonely when it's a snow day.
Most importantly as much as you struggle through the week. Through weights, and practice, and team meetings. They are struggling right along with you. Everyone else is in the same boat headed to the same place. Which is comforting to know especially since its a rough ride.
So when you go on the trips to see if you really want to go to that college, don't worry about whether you will make it there or not. If you really want to be an athlete you will be. Humans do crazy things for something they want.
Make sure that you can talk to the people you will basically, and/or literally be living with for the next four years. Because if you can't, THAT will be the ONLY reason you wouldn't make it.
I know you think it might be the time your team gets caught drinking that does you in, but it isn't as bad as you think it will be. Don't ask me how I know.

Mother of pearl
It's almost one.
Dueces!

Quit that sniffing I'm trying to take a test!!

Sometimes I go through life and shit happens that is just a gigantic pain in my ass. Which is a serious situation if you know me. Considering my ass by itself is pretty big. Most of it involves being a college student. I can yap my gums all day about what makes me want to hurl myself through a plate glass window to end my ongoing misery. 

Although, some things are small that really just make me laugh. Like the times when you're trying to get your key in the door before you shit your pants. Or you try and finish opening that package before you itch your eye, but you just end up dropping what you're doing and almost gauging your eye out because it was itching so bad! So for now let's just focus on the major pain in the ass shit. 

Locking your keys in your car right before you have to be somewhere. 

Please believe I have done this a time or two, but this years incident was a doooooozy! I was all packed up to head to the school for a softball trip this fall. However, what happened next I couldn't explain even if I tried. Somehow I ended up with my keys and every bag I packed locked up tight. Talk about a "fuck me" moment right? Poor Jimmy boy was fast asleep at seven in the morning when I burst into the room screaming like someone just mugged me. I kind of wish that a mugging was the case. It wasn't, and he is always ready to help so he threw on my hoodie and shoes to come out to help. The best part was that my hoodie was about six sizes too small, the sleeves barely went past his elbow. 

I would say that the call to my coach was the next highlight. "There is a slight possibility that my keys and everything I own found it's way into my car and doesn't want to come out..." 

She pretty much just told me to get them out or I couldn't go. Which was just friggin' frackin' perfect. 

This emotional bitch just let the tears flow. I would NOT be good in any kind of real crisis. I would be paralyzed with whimpers. Long story short, the bus made a house call to my apartment and I spent 75 bones for some grandma to break into my car. 

#FAIL 

Starting to use the restroom 2.5 seconds before you look over and realize there is ZERO toilet paper. 

This moment doesn't need any explanation. Other than the fact that you better have some poor bastard within ear shot to come in and smell your business to give you some toilet tissue. 

Getting a parking ticket when you park in the illegal spot for LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES!

Most of the time the reason I park illegally is that I am extremely late for something and I need to get shit done. So coming back out to see that some ass hole is going to make me pay thirty bucks for a 6 by 10 foot piece of ASPHALT, (P.S I had to ask Jimbob how to spell that. I just typed assfault, because that is how it sounds)  really makes me want to find the nearest security guard and junk punch them.

Eight AM classes. 

I told my mother that I would go easy on the F word in my blog so I can't really elaborate on this one, but you know how I probably feel. 

Classes on any floor higher than the second.

I once had a Chemistry lab on the fourth floor of Temple Hall. Two flights per floor so that means my ass was draggin' up eight flights of stairs. Calves cramping, quads burning and everything. 

I was basically crawling by the time I got to the top. Some dick hole also decided to make the book almost ten pounds. Good lord now that I think about it Chemistry was just an over-all hellish experience. 

I had to take a break before I went in to keep my rep as an athlete. Consume some water, maybe blot a little sweat. I could waltz into the classroom like "What's up guys? Those man eating stairs didn't phase me one gosh darn bit!"

Walking around campus in the pouring rain with absolutely no drainage.

This is literally like river jumping!!  If you don't make it you are going to have to roll up your pant legs the rest of the day. Also forget about socks. They won't last two seconds in that kind of weather. When it is raining cats and dogs outside, you have a choice to make. You can look like a bad ass and get soaking wet, or you can be the douche bag that uses an umbrella, or you can just stay home. Rain shouldn't be taken lightly. 

I usually go with the last one. 

People that ride bicycles around campus. 

Last semester my leg was mangled by a speeding bicyclist and ever since I have wanted to clothes-line every mother sucker that rides by. 

I can remember it was like it was yesterday.  

I was just walking along, changing the song on my ipod when all of a sudden I look up and get my ass plowed by a blonde bitch on a bike. The chain cut up my ankle and I think I may have punched the air in fright, and accidentally landed my right fish near her left kidney. She may or may not have slammed to the ground. It was so traumatic it's still a little fuzzy. 

The worst part about it was that the skank had the nerve to ring her little bell, like I was in the way! GAHHHH I am still bitter about it. I didn't even notice my ankle was gushing blood because I was trying to flee the scene before anyone I knew saw me. Ruined some perfectly good converse. There should be a law against cycling on campus. Or at least a speed limit damnit!! 

There ya go. All the reasons I hate my life while on campus. Plus a couple extra things that I am sure everyone can relate to. 

Just thinking about it all makes me want to burn a bicycle. 

ROAD TRIP!!!! Bitches style Part 2

Alright listen up. I am only going to say this once.
This is the first time I have gotten a chance to blog since part 1, so I am going to be completely honest. There is a strong possibility that I don't remember the events exactly as they happened. So if you were involved in this certain vaca to the other side of the river. Then just go with it.

Sooooo where was I? Oh yes, day three. Here we go.
After a full night of festivities at "Old Folks Central Station"... my roomie and I just couldn't sleep in another second knowing that we were wasting our vacation. So we awoke with a vengeance and googled the nearest, fattiest food that we could. For those of you that haven't had the pleasure of working with a GPS, then you don't know how it feels to figure out where your damn destination actually is because the way it looks on the screen makes you think that where you want to go is in the middle of the fucking freeway. We found the Original Pancake house a bit of a trek off of the freeway, thank goodness, and seated ourselves for a feast.
When they say everything is bigger in Texas, they probably mean it. All I can tell you is the roads are bigger, and so are the frickin' frackin' omelets. It was bigger than my head. I can't speak for everything else that occupies the state because I wasn't there long enough for full research. Sadly it wasn't a franchise and it didn't have to go orders. The other vacation occupants had to settle for Chic-fil-a.
Day three is really the kicker. This is when we hit downtown for realzies and had authentic Mexican cuisine. This is also where the margaritas that can kick you in the face come in. Cross my heart hope to die! There is a two drink minimum on those bitches! Luckily we all are light weighted whores and were pretty tipsy when we left Casa de something or other. (Not being rude I really just don't remember the name.)
While I was in the Lonestar State, I made an observation. People in the midwest are FAT. Texans keep their girlish figures because when they hit downtown they WALK everywhere. So weird.
So to make a long story short, if you walk around bouncers try to get you in the bars and offer to pay for your first drink. In other words if you go in, have your first drink and leave at every bar you go to. Then you can get out chocolate wasted scott free!!
I am pretty sure there was a short visit to a gay bar, and the bouncer wanted to marry my best friend. Which confused me, but whatev's. I am honestly surprised that I am not permanently crippled from all of the walking in four inch heels.
Don't judge, they make my legs look good!
I would also like to let you in on a little secret...If you haggle with the bartenders then you can get five dollar shots down to 2.50 a piece. Don't ask me how I did it. I just may be that smokin' hot.  Or drunk enough to not realize there might not have been alcohol in the drinks. WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!

Getting back to the house each of us realized that maybe three days in Texas was just enough. Not to mention the fact that I was so hungover I worried that I was blind for a good two and a half minutes. We all decided to clean up the house, stop by Grandma's, and grab Panda Express to hit the road!
Grandma was lovely and her stew was even lovelier. I wish that I wasn't on the verge of vodka induced cardiac arrest. We would have stayed and visited longer.
Oh did I forget to mention that I mowed the lawn before we left?
Yeah.
The ride home was a complete and utter blur. Except for the weirdos that hit on us at a gas station in Oklahoma. For some reason after they asked to party with us I felt the need to tell them "maybe tomorrow". Don't ask me why. This bitch was spent.
Slap happy kicked in about one in the morning and we were laughing about the stupidest shit. Also on the verge of shitting our pants from the tequila. Or maybe I should just speak for myself. Roomie and I made it back about three am and I think that it took us another week to recover.
That was the point though. To party hard and leave it all in Austin. Although, in this case, what happens in Austin definitely didn't stay in Austin.

ROAD TRIP!! Bitches Style, Part 1

Alright folks...it's about that time. Time for me to open up about the trip to Austin, Texas. Where the whataburgers are hot and the houses are big. Where you can get kicked in the face by margarita's and have guacamole made right in front of your eyes. It's a beautiful city.

If you are ever wondering if you would fit in there, then don't you fret because there is something for everyone down south! As long as you can maneuver your way through a forest of overpasses and a toll road every five seconds then you are set to have the time of your life. Luckily we were prepared for the toll part. I had an unfortunate run in with an automatic toll road in Oklahoma once and it didn't end well. Make sure however much, or little, you wear you always have pockets full of change.

On to the good stuff. I know what you're thinking. That Springfield, MO to Austin, Tx is a bitch of a car ride, but if you have two pounds of Twizzlers and Cheddar Rice Cakes you can turn it into a blast. If you're like me then you will drink so much water that if you laughed too hard at any point in time then you could piss your panties.
We left Thursday morning and made it across the Lone Star state line by lunch time. Which meant we needed to find a Jack N' the Box, and we needed to find it fast!  Luckily there was a gas station that didn't look too shady for a potty break and directions. I think we offended them by asking where the fast food was because they made barbecue there. Sorry sista' we want a place where you can get tacos, egg rolls, and  burgers all at once. We needed to coat our stomachs with as much grease as possible, seeing as we were about to ingest an ungodly amount of alcohol. The station attendant gave me puppy dog eyes and the old men sitting down for lunch checked out our asses. So we had to split....
After some tacos and burgers we were almost to Dallas. HOLY FUCKING TRAFFIC.
Don't worry, we had a GPS. Even though every single highway had construction we made it out alive.
Barely.
Three hours to Austin and we were getting anxious! We had decided that we were going to party like the world was ending this year. Which was a sensible thing since someone told me it might. So I went with it and vowed to drink myself to oblivion.
My friend's mom was kind enough to let us stay in their empty house in a little town right outside of Austin. I honestly was one day away from saying "Fuck it I am staying."

We unloaded our shit and started getting ready. We had to tease our hair and pick out just the right outfit because we were about to hit the liquor store. We needed to bring our A game. Sadly Ace Liquor didn't have any Burnett's! Or any other place around Austin. I guess Texans don't appreciate cheap ass vodka like we do. Nine fifths and a wal mart run later we were set for the entire trip!
Honestly I don't really remember what happened directly after that, but I know that we ended up at a Dentist's mansion eating borderline raw hamburgers and trying to figure out how we were so fucked up. Oh yeah, there was a huge dog. That peed when I tried to pet it...
I have the worst luck with pets.
As a side note, the dentist was precious and worked so hard to make our burgers. We ate them to be polite. Also to keep from dying of alcohol poisoning! So we killed two birds with one stone!

We ended up at home and passed out at who knows what time, and woke up Friday morning feeling like a diesel truck ran us all over. Which is to be expected.
Those poor bathrooms, there were only two of them worthy of getting ready in and we were all PMS'ing. Definitely interesting.
We met up with a friend and hit the mall. I don't know about the other girls but I know that I beat the SHIT out of my bank account at that place. I would just like to say that you are INSANE if you walk away from a purple lacy push up bra for three dollars.
Anyway, I peed a total of four times in the mall and three more at the Longhorn Steakhouse we went to. They even messed up an order and we got free chili cheese fries! Christmas all over again!!!
This was the night we decided to go to a place called Graham Central Station. Which is a magical building with six different kind of bars under one roof. Who thinks of that shit?!
Even though they preauthorize your credit card for fifty bucks if you open a tab, it is totally worth it. We danced our asses off with the elderly! Well, to me over 28 is old. No offense to any readers over the hill.
My room mate made a Texan fall in love with her and I seriously considered dancing in the cage. Even though I was drunk I knew that it might have been bad considering I was wearing a skirt. So instead I took advantage of the fact the the DJ was a perv and gave him a bit of a booty dance for him to play Teach Me How to Dougie. Sorry Jimbob I love my Cali Swag District! ;)
However, I would like to say that men in Texas are no where near as generous as the men in Missouri. Play your cards right, east of the red river you can get over five drinks purchased for you in one night. Not happennin' in Te-has. So we had to dish out for our own beers, damnit.

Please believe that we came back and I had the munchies so bad I almost consumed an entire box of cheese itz. Thank goodness I held it all down because that would NOT have been good coming back up. Cheese never is.
So that was two days into the trip. My wrists are tired from typing so you can just kiss my ass and I will post Part 2 in a while.
Stay fuckin' tuned.