At least our gym has a sports bar in it now.

Upon leaving the city of Brotherly Love and cellulite, I feel somewhat accomplished. Not only did I manage to eat a weeks worth of calories at happy hour alone, but successfully raped and pillaged the Gap Outlet. Until I find and maintain that elusive bastard “clarity” or “direction,” such means will have to suffice in making me feel like a contributing member of society. Trying to uphold our failing economy through the purchase of chicken tenders and slutty basic tank tops is a feat in itself, especially how counterintuitive those two purchases are to each other.

The low point of the weekend was nearly passing out in Center City as the Dunkin Donuts was 2 blocks further away than I anticipated, and my body likes to shut down without things like caffeine or water. Luckily DD has a small ice coffee for 99 cents special, and I had a ton of ones in my wallet left over from dollar drink night. Thus allowing Blockley to indirectly save my life, when I thought it was only stealing hours I will never get back from its shame stained walls. Hard to believe only three years ago those cops were gunned down in there.

Other than helping ironically decorate for aepi’s christmakuh party and watching several hours worth of “I didn’t know I was pregnant” or as I like to call it “maybe it’s just all that liquor weight,” I pretty much sat in air conditioning and tried to remind myself that I still had nine months at Drexel.

Leaving for six months was both mentally and emotionally trying, and now I’m having mixed emotions on going back to the beauty that encapsulates the American college campus. I’m too adjusted to NYC, and Philadelphia in comparison now seems quite small and inhibiting. (Though vastly cheaper) There’s also the whole “complacency” issue where I know I’m going to be doing the same exact things I’ve been doing for three years now at school and it’s a bit tedious. Throw in the complete lack of interest I now have for my major, and the fact that I am now a 21 year old frat rat. It’s not cute anymore, I’m not wandering back to my freshman dorm and falling over the turn stile only to have public safety compliment me on my outfit. In college years I’m like a senior citizen yelling at the youngn’s to get off my lawn as I wildly wave a bottle of scotch and a rifle. Instead I’m probably telling the young sluts to stop stepping in the frat flower bed as I’m waving a solo cup and my shoe which I may or may not end up throwing at them.

In the end I know I should stop bitching and just enjoy Senior year for what it is, and relish the fact that I still have those precious few months to enjoy being a complete asshole without legitimate responsibilities. I’ve seen the real world, and there are a lot less jobs in it than I thought there were.

On a much happier note, Mad Men finally comes back tonight and with that life sadly gets a little bit better. I have a huge girl crush on Christina Hendricks, and since January Jones combination DUI/walk of shame I have new found respect for Betty Draper as well.