I think it's safe to say that I had about ten friends over the entire course of my career at Pepperdine. I made a lot of friends working at Malibu Florist, but when I was physically at school, I spent most of my time alone. I had a core group of about five super-close friends, all of us uniquely odd in our own way. I'm not sure how we found each other, but I know now it was obviously some sort of cosmic intervention that enabled us to band together.
Pepperdine is an extremely conservative school. I guess somehow I missed that on the tour because I was too busy staring at the ocean and counting how many hours it would take my parents to drive from Rocklin to Malibu, should my mom deem an "emergency" occurred. I wanted OUT of Rocklin and I was only seventeen years-old, so of course I knew everything and was totally prepared to be on my own. I didn't even have my driver's license, but that's a story for another day.
In what they called "Freshman Seminar" and in my classes I met a few key people that ended up being the pillars that held me up throughout my college career. Three of these pillars happened to be very handsome, intelligent, and of course- Catholic.
I was raised Catholic and attended Catholic school until fifth grade. I have attended many more masses and rituals that I care to count, and since becoming an adult no longer consider myself religious in any way. Pepperdine is a Church-Of-Christ school, so their ideology is completely different than the pageantry and the strict ceremony I grew up with. Most of the students at the 'Dine grew up in the C.O.C. church, so it was really difficult to find anyone who was familiar with Catholic rites.
Imagine my surprise when I befriended a set of twins from PA and one "cashew" from New Jersey, all having been raised in both Catholic schools, churches, and secondary schools. They were quite oppositional than my usual friends, who generally were either tattooed, in a band, or on a drug. At first I wasn't sure if we really had anything in common. These guys were and still are BRILLIANT and excelled at every subject. I sat in my in the student parking lot with a hollowed out apple taking hits of weed, contemplating whether or not to attend class. I was scared they would think I was a freak, but of course I made them laugh. I felt so alone at that school...there is something about a nice Catholic boy from the East Coast that is just a familiar, wonderful feeling that makes you comfortable. It also didn't hurt that one of my pals' New Jersey folks had leased him a gorgeous seaside condominium right down the street from school. This sucker had a pool, a patio and two parents who only visited during holidays and summertime.
Our get-togethers were fairly mild. One night the three of us decided to blast the Almost Famous soundtrack and I decided to down an entire bottle of Pinot Grigio. It was then, because I was the only one who smoked pot, that I began to search for food. I found a very fresh pack of Chips Ahoy! and became very excited. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but when my second or third cookie broke directly down the middle I got one hell of an idea.
I took the dishtowel from the kitchen and draped it over my shoulders. I grabbed what little was left of my wine with my glass, and a fresh cookie and headed out to the patio. When I arrived I got looks of shock from all three of my friends. I began to speak in a ridiculous slur that sounded more like a cappuccino machine than the English language.
"This is my bawwwwdy," I mumbled, "tuh new and evvverlllassstin cubnet..." and that's about as far as I got before I hit the patio floor. All I could hear was a circle of screaming laughter, with the three of them dragging me to the couch, each of them mumbling a Hail Mary under their breath, just making sure I was the only one going to hell.
|shoes, jeans, top and tank: Target glasses: ARMY eyewear necklace: vintage bracelet: Hawaiian heirloom|