please don't judge us, but we'll judge you

The boys locked eyes. We are sitting in a corner, not tan enough or blonde enough (yet strangely, we are wearing the correct quota of Forever 21 polyblend clothes. also maybe even leggings with a tunic, but no belt.) to show our faces, but we're watching this all, drinking lukewarm Natty Ice and dying on the inside. It's like the Discovery Channel, but live. All of a sudden, in perfect synchronization, said boys commence a delicately choreographed C-Walk perfected circa 1999, towards each other. At precisely the same time, these two gentleman (no) pop their collars, and embrace. Bros. We look to each other in horror. You know that scene in Harry Potter, when the Dementors come, and suck away any hope of ever feeling happy again? It was like that, minus the consolation prize of attending Hogwarts. I turn to Taimi and I say, "We should be writing this down." She told me, "Yes, I thought the same thing when I saw the girl reach her hand into the empty box of beer and throw it at a group of her friends upon realizing its emptiness."

This blog might remind you of middle school angst. It might even remind you of high school angst (God willing). That is more or less the point. But we realized something. It is too good not to write down. This is glorious. Plus, we've blurred the lines of what defines substance abuse to the point where we might not even remember the majority of college, so this also has its practical purposes. So cry, laugh, judge, and shotgun a beer. We know we have.

No but really. This is just a random example, but some of the things that we observe are truly ridiculous. We are fully aware that creating a blog, in turn, makes us ridiculous human beings, but we are willing to accept and embrace that likelihood. Invariably, publishing our collective and sometimes individual thoughts on a public forum will be considered pretentious. We know. We're okay with that. We even kind of like it. The thing is, Taimi and I are both borderline academically inclined, and both of our majors require us to write. A lot. Exhaustively. So, we should be writing. All the time. And it was between this, or going to independently owned cafes, wearing our scarves and glasses, and sipping overpriced soy chai lattes while scribbling meaningless shit into discounted notebooks. Taimi got a new laptop, so we opted for this option. We might still hit up other venues, who knows, may even pull "The Man Who Kept Cigars in His Cap" out of the archives and give each other writing prompts. We're not emo, or myspace. We don't take pictures of ourselves in front of mirrors or hide one of our eyes behind a lock of straightened hair (though we might in the future, just to be ironic). We just figure we should write this shit down. Give us a break. I digress...

These are our adventures at public university. We're kind of like Felicity, but less whiny. Actually, that is not even a remotely accurate comparison, sorry. This is an experiment. Go with it.

Love always,

Sarah & Taimi

Also. We forgot to mention. This blog (that is a terrible word) is at least, in part, dedicated to Cody Schoenkopf, who always inquires us to share our writings with him. He is a creative genius and we aspire to impress him.