Are you sick of me yet? Do you think I am completely boring, snobby, and awful? Did you realize reading the Nass last week that I fit almost every one of Katie McCulloch’s douchebag criteria? Are you frustrated after going out to the street and hearing underclassman girls badmouth me? Then certainly don’t read the rest of this! I realize this is going back in time, but I would really like to tell the story of Terrace Pick-Ups. The night was a Sunday, and dorky chemical engineer that I am, I wasn’t going to go out. Neither did my friend, who wants to be called “Yum-Yum.” Somehow, by convincing her to go out and “welcome the new sophomores into the womb,” I convinced myself too. I put on nice black pants and one of my favorite white shirts. I kind of looked like a concert musician, but my wardrobe insecurity is not the point of this story. The point of the matter being, I was wearing clothes that I would rather take off than get dirty. Oh, I was also wearing stiletto heeled black leather ankle boots – my usual.So we got to Terrace. We had this big thing full of vodka and we wanted to get mixers; partly because it’s really cheap vodka, and partly because we’re really prissy girls. We were in the kitchen, and we bumped into my old OA co-leader. Everyone seemed to be in some stage of undress (except my co-leader), so Yum-Yum and I innocently asked, “Why is everyone naked?” Co-leader girl told me that I might want to take my clothes off so that “they don’t get dirty.” Riiiight. I figure any excuse is an excuse to get naked. And when in Terrace, do as the Terrans do.I slipped into the side room and hid the heels and the pants under some cushions. Yum-Yum really wanted me to keep my shoes on, but I just didn’t think stiletto ankle boots looked too hot with underwear. She did convince me to keep on my argyle socks though. Summary of outfit thus far in story: argyle socks, this white boy cut underwear my boyfriend Devon got me for Christmas and a white tank top thing – all the other girls were wearing sexy black lace lingerie (if anything). Either they had the good sense to know they would get naked at Terrace that night, or they have the good sense to know that they might get naked on any given night. I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb.Amidst the red glow, the burning cigarettes, the naked mannequin, skulls, and naked, pale Terrans, I was immediately thrilled. “Clearly, I have joined the right club,” I thought to myself (this feeling of sublime happiness was squelched seconds later when I got burned with a cigarette).

After dancing around to Arcade Fire and The Postal Service, getting chased by Sketchy Guy, and dancing with Yum-Yum to avoid dancing with anyone else, I decided that I missed Dev (the usual when I’m not with him). After begging for about fifteen minutes (and borrowing some more sensible shoes from a Terrace officer whom I think would have preferred if I had stayed in his room), Yum-Yum finally consented to run me over to Devon’s club, in my underwear and my hideous white puffy coat.On the way over, I thought I was going to freeze and blend in with the ice and snow, never to be found again. Fortunately I wasn’t that inconspicuous, and an old friend of mine yelled my name and something about underwear as I skidded past him in the dark. At first we couldn’t find Devon anywhere. I think I accosted several of his friends (in my underwear), but then I finally found Devon and I started shrieking because I was so f-ing excited to see him. With shouts of “Libby, drink some water!”, “Devon, get your girlfriend to drink some water!!!” Devon’s friends apparently noticing my tanned behind a little bit too much, Devon decided it would be best to remove me from the situation.

Who says a girl with a boyfriend can’t still have a little fun (and get naked)? Devon does.