For the past year, my articles have been devoted to the glorification of one thing: dorkiness. Also the ’90s. And “Harry Potter.” And accidental celibacy.
I have owned a Nintendo DS since I was 15. In completely unrelated news, I also had not kissed a boy by that time.
Hey, so big news since we last spoke—I puked on a table at Waffle House.
A wise man once told me, “Lindsay, stop writing about how pathetic you are.”
Let me preface this by admitting something: This article has no journalistic merit whatsoever.
When I was a kid, there were two things I wanted to be in life. In descending order of importance and ascending order of practicality they were a witch and a spy.
Okay, let me counteract all the “She doesn’t even go here!” remarks before they start. It’s true, Dukies—I am your classmate no longer.
Hey there, kiddo.
Oh the incessant inquiries passing themselves off as genuine interest: “Are you ready for graduation? What are you doing next year? So … do you have a job?”
People say college is the best time of your life.
