Not coming back


4 November :: It’s Wednesday

I told myself on Sunday I wouldn’t go out until Saturday this week. 

I told myself I would work out everyday and restart my BBG guide by Kayla Itsines.

And, I have.

I have worked out everyday at least once; I did the first circuit last night – my aching body can attest to it…

I didn’t go to $0.50 beer night on Mondays.

I didn’t go to $2 wells on Tuesdays.

But, now it’s Wednesday.  Possibly the hardest day to say no to the bars.

WineWednesday is my weakness; I have been to every one since I first received my fake ID, a few days before Valentine’s Day.

One spends an only $5 for an entire full-sized cheap bottle of wine. 

The bar holding this glorious deal, was always my stomping ground last semester; I was there almost every night – the bouncers didn’t even check my ID, the bartenders gave me free drinks, and I always knew at least 3/4 of the population under the roof.

Some of my most infamous moments occurred there. As well, it is where I met and became best friends w every single one of the friends I am surrounded w to this day.

It was at this bar I was yakked all over by some fucking frat star bastard.

It was there that I almost fought a fat chick for slapping her boy friend’s best friend repeatedly (which I swear he really did deserve, and he actually thought was fucking hilarious). She kept asking me “who the fuck I thought I was” to which I responded, reiterating plentiful with “upper east side, motherfucker” over and over again.

But, recently… Things have gotten messy. 

Messy with the ones I love and care about

Messy with the ones I don’t give a shit about

Messy with the ones I don’t even know

Messy with the ones I see but have never had a conversation with.
It’s messy, and I know I should stay away – but I also know that “should” has never been a word in my vocabulary

But more than anything ::

I know I won’t be strong enough to stay away .


1+1=fuck off, mom

Last night, I told my mom the reason I hadn’t been responding to any of her texts nor answering her calls since friday morning was because I had broken my phone again.

When she pointed out that it only takes them 25 minutes to fix a phone, I found myself awkwardly having to explain that my phone was now being held hostage by the phone clinic until I could pay them the $109 they were charging me to fix it.

So, being that I’ve broken my phone, like, what… 17 times since Valentine’s Day – she was pretty furious.

Actually, I’d describe her more as livid. Just to be more accurate and whatnot…

She went on this huge freaking rant about how I needed to get my shit together and I can’t just party for the rest of my life and not do any work.

After everything we have been through…if you continue down this path you will end up with nothing: no degree, no job, no money, and no self respect.

Aside from now knowing how to tell her during this now-you-listen-here-child speech, that she had misspelled self-respect and her grammar was definitely NOT on point

I also wasn’t sure how to tell her what was on the tip of my tongue, or whether I even should.

What’s the point, if I have already reached a point where I don’t have any more self-respect?



In case you were wondering, I responded to the entire rant with “okay.”

Hitchhiking Across State Lines

Yes, you read that right. I freaking HITCHHIKED. 

I feel like this is the kind of thing we all put on our bucket list because it sounds super adventurous and whatnot; but, at the same time, it’s the kind of thing were terrified of ever doing. Our parents told us time and time again that it’s dangerous, the media – through horror films and real-life on the news – drilled into our heads that it is something to be avoided.

But, even so – we know it would make one fucking hell of a story.

So that’s what I’m going to do; tell you a hell of a story, that quite honestly is no surprise for the life of this India Carmichael.


I took an impromptu trip/adventure to TomorrowWorld. Seriously. My friends invited me at Publix on Thursday and 45 minutes later, I was on the road with my bag packed and a ticket purchased. Obviously praying to the sweet merciful God he would allow my mother to not freaking murder me for spending ~$450 on her credit card, for something so frivolous, no doubt. 

More about my unforgettable and incredible epic at the mysterious and magical festival of all festivals.

It was Sunday. I split off from my friends, but only after we agreed to meet at the car at 1am in order to head back to school.

1am: I arrive at the car, only to find the spot empty and car gone.

So, obviously I starred panicing – which turned into crying and sobbing. I stumbled over to the guys at the  front gate trying to explain my predicament, when I realized my phone and wallet was in the bastard’s car. 

It wasn’t until 4am that they convinced me to walk the 45 minutes across the festival grounds to the shuttle stop that would take me to the Greyhound station. They told me that Greyhound had some sort of emergency thing where if one was truly in need of getting home, like myself, then they take you back for free. FALSE. 

But more of that later. So there I am, stumbling across the mud and filth – somehow finding myself, after one hell of a treacherous hour walking, at the shuttle stop. There, I found 2 guys already waiting. At that point, I was still crying and hiccuping; so the guys asked me what was wrong and I launched into an entire crying rant all over again about what had just transpired. For whatever reason, they took it upon themselves to take me under their wing and make sure I got home alright – or at least safely onto the next leg of my journey back to school. Only after, of course, they informed me I was waiting at the staff shuttle stop. 

After about a good 50 minutes, the shuttle finally pulled up and took us to the car park where the staff had left their cars for the weekend. 

So, after I found myself having to help these guys push their truck out of the mud – they took me to breakfast, buying me an Eggs Benedict, then paid for my greyhound ticket home. 

Well, as it turned out – we established over our plates of food that Max was actually in fact the Godfather of my past-good-friend-but-now-not-as-close-friend Ansley’s sister, who who had just given birth. Like, Goethe fuck does that happen????!!!!!?

I’m not entirely sure how it happened exactly, but somehow the boys managed to accidentally buy my ticket to the major city closest to my school – which was an hour away – when the next stop on the journey was trough my college town… So, of course – I started crying again to the bus driver, with full-on waterworks and sobs, until he agreed to allow me to stay for the next leg to the stop in my town.

Well. The stop turned out to be at a random sketchy-ass gas station 5 miles out of town.

About 20 minutes after the bus pulled out, an old Ford (I think???) truck pulled in with this adorable dog in the bed. So OBVIOUSLY I had to go play with him. I started chatting with the 2 old guys and they told me they had to pick up their niece from school, but if I was sill there in 3 hours on their way back – they would happily take me back to my apartment. 

45 minutes later – they pulled back in and informed me that their niece told them to just come get me and take me home, and she would get a ride from a classmate. 

Never met the girl – but I already loved her.

So, luckily, the 2 guys weren’t psycho murderers or rapists and stayed true to their word. The drove me the 25 minute drive back to my apartment and even told me where their tailgate was on game days, so I should come by to say hi, and to meet their niece. 

By 3pm, I was back in my bed; all showered and clean – and fast, fast asleep. 

21 October 2015

Things have gotten bad at school. Everyone has been making up rumors about me and I’ve become the worst social pariah I could have ever imagined anyone to become.

The other night, I guess it really got to Rafaele bc he turned into a total asshole – a side of him I had never witnessed. This fucker who claims he has a video of me having a train run on me by 3 black football players, he approached me at the bar and fucking tried to tell me that there was never a video and he hadn’t started the rumors – but I heard differently from several of his collegues. Not to mention Rafaele had fucking seen it. He only tried to tell me this bc he had heard that I was going to press charges against him under Stephanie’s Law and for slander. He and I literally started screaming at each other in the front courtyard of the bar, and I finally just ran out the bar gate. I ran to the parking lot behind and sat between 2 random cars, and cried so hard I began to almost sob. It lasted for 20 minutes before I eventually, feeling entirely numb, stumbled down the back alley-type-road thing with no sense of direct or destination. 2 minutes later, I met these 2 beautiful and kind souls who listened to me recount my story after they noticed I’d just been crying and asked what was wrong.when I began to cry again, they convinced me to go back inside the bar to get my friend to take me home. When I got there though, the bar was closing for the night and Jessica was gone. Instead I see my friend Jay and convince him to take me home – though I no longer have my keys as they were in Jessica’s car. When I told him I wanted food, he chose Waffle House, and because he would be paying for me – I didn’t argue.

Sidenote:: while I was at the bar, Rafaele showed up to meet his friends who had already been there for quite some time. When I tried to go up to him to say hi, he completely blew me off. Well, imagine my surprise and hurt – seeing as I had spent the previous night at his place and after my classes the next morning, earlier this day, I went back to his apartment and we stayed in bed cuddling and listening to music for the rest of the entire fucking day. So, when he refused to talk to me, his best friend Lance started talking shit to me and as a joke I responded with, “well, I’m hot so whatever – I don’t give a fuck.” To that, Lance started to laugh and said to me, somewhere along the lines of “you’re a dirty ugly fucking whore”. Rafaele was standing right there, and didn’t say a single word, no less try to defend me. 20 minutes later, the video guy approached me.

So, Jay and I went to Waffle House and, of course, guess who was fucking sitting in the first booth there; Lance and Rafaele. I could feel my face drop and my eyes widen – but I recovered and narrowed my eyes before walking right over to the only open booth, not even 10 ft away from his. When I went to the bathroom, I barely controlled and stopped myself from having a major panic attack. But I did my best to stay strong and I walked back out with a blank face, I knew was impossible to read. But my face fell again, as I saw Jay standing there are their booth chatting to them like old friends. I quickly resumed my face and went back to my seat.

Obviously I was still upset about what had transpired between Rafaele and I at the bar and how he had treated me; so when he texted me, though he was still in his booth RIGHT FREAKING THERE, he asked “after party?” I’ll be honest, I was so fucking insulted that he thought I would be his little lap dog who would take whatever he could give me, so I quickly responded with, “no.”… To which he didn’t respond to at all. Finally, just as he was leaving I’d had enough and ran after him down the road – ready to demand why the hell he was being such a fucking asshole. But, either Lance was unaware of his text to me, or he really just fucking hated me – he started calling me out for having HIV or some shit. Like, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK: no, I don’t fucking have HIV you fucking asshole. But I was so shocked at his harsh and biting words, I only stumbled back, said wtf in a tone of ‘where the fuck did that come from, bc this is definitely the first I’m hearing of it and how dare you accuse me of shit I clearly do not have’. But then, I turned away and ran back to Jay, who had just finished paying and was walking out the door. I started to cry all over again, but tried to keep it quiet so neither Rafaele nor Lance would hear. We crossed the road and headed for a parking lot, when Jay said something about how I should go home with him and he could “make me feel better” in a way that could only insinuate we hook up. I backed away from him and, still crying but which had already turned into heavier tears and slight sobs, I backed away from him and screamed “WHAT THE FUCK. What the fuck is the matter with you!” And I turned and sprinted away, down the road, and back to campus. However, as I crossed the road, I could still see Lance and Rafaele standing where I had left them discussing something at length and in such a way one could immediately tell it was about something serious. However, as I ran, they were watching me; but for whatever reason I didn’t even care anymore and I only cried harder. When I got to campus, and was passing the Quad, I lost my sense of grip on reality almost, and stumbled to a big tree, sat behind it – hiding almost from the world, and cried for almost an hour straight. At some point, Rafaele texted me asking where I was and I told him I was on the quad. I was so drunk still though, and so upset – I started to just bitch him out, but vent to him about everything that had happened – all at the same time. He told me to come over, and stupidly I agreed.

When I got there though, Lance was sitting on a lawn chair on the bottom patio and as soon as he noticed me – he began taunting me and talking shit and degrading me. As I headed for Rafaele’s apartment ignoring him, he called out to make sure Rafaele “wrapped it up”, so as to “not give him my disgusting diseases”. When I walked in, as Rafaele always left his door unlocked, he had been heading to the door already – clearly having heard all Lance had said. He told me to go to his room and he would be right there in a second. Well, that “second” turned into a good 20-25 minutes. I stripped off my clothes so I was only in my underwear, the way in which I always slept in his bed – though we had never had sex, and I had only given him head once. When I did finally come back, he got into bed and almost immediately demanded I give him head since I wouldn’t earlier that day, so I “owed him that much”. I looked at him and literally said, with my voice breaking – ready to start crying all over again, “are you fucking kidding me? No, I’m not going to fucking give you head after the way you treated me tonight.” We laid in silence for a moment, and finally I said something that was possibly the worst and most insulting thing I could have ever said to him. [About a week before, we’d been sitting at Starbucks chatting and he asked me, “if (he) were to ever be in a fraternity, which could (I) see (him) in?” I told him the one I knew there were many ex-military guys in and told him, “they are all total good balls too, which you are 100% also. So you would seriously fit right in.” He responded telling me that he hadn’t heard that before, and that most people always said Pike – bc he was an asshole. So, I told him “well, I’ve never seen you act that way, and in fact you’ve been probably the nicest person to me as of late, so I don’t believe that and completely disagree with it.” He smiled so genuinely, my heart literally stopped. In that moment, I knew I was in trouble – bc I had really begun to care about him, and finally admit I really liked him.] I said to Rafaele in that moment of silence then, “you know, I actually change my mind; I do think you would make a really good Pike.” He literally went silent and said in this calm, but livid voice, “what did you just say?” So, I responded with “I’ve literally been crying all night bc boys have degraded me and tried to take advantage of me either tonight or referring to such from the past; you knew this bc I told you, but now even so, you’re just trying to do the exact same fucking thing.”

And I grabbed my stuff and left; I kept a brave face as I walked by Lance, until I was safely back on the main street and, in that moment, I finally lost it and began to hyperventilate, only barely avoiding a full on anxiety attack.
From there, I went back to Waffle House and cried and cried to a staff member as she gave me free tea practically by the bucket. I stayed there, calling people and trying to find someone I could stay w bc I didn’t have my keys anymore. But alas, no one answered. And then a saving grace, someone called me back and he sent a cab to get me, and yeah. Crashed w his puppy on the bed, while he took the couch. The next morning he took me for chipotle and we went on a wild goose chase for my keys. But to no avail. Our first stop had been to Rafaele’s so I could check there, on his bedroom floor and such. His roommate let me in, and I just walked into Rafaele’s room, turned on the light and said, “I’m only looking for my keys. So, don’t mind me.” But they weren’t there; Rafaele didn’t even get out of bed while I searched his room, nor respond to what I’d said.
I just don’t understand how he could go from literally sleeping w me all night, and when I came back after my morning classes, we literally laid in each other’s arms in bed for the rest of the fucking day. Like, hours upon hours. For at least an hour of it all, we laid there not talking but not quite sleeping either, just listening to John Mayer music playing off his phone. Other times we would talk, about his family and his genius with technology and engineering stuff, or he would tickle me and we would goof around. At one point he told me, for the billionth time, that his mom wanted him to get a girlfriend, but like in an insinuating way bc why else would one even say it. How does someone go from all of that, to all of how he behaved later that night.

It’s not like he didn’t know people would be saying shit about me when we first started talking. He knew from the very start. We began to be totally honest with each other about what we heard about the other, and then we’d explain what had happened and were completely honest with each other about it. So, what the fuck. He knew that almost everything he had heard were lies – all spin offs from the video rumor.

Last semester, I had become this huge party girl who would hook up, but rarely ever have sex with quite a few guys. Nowhere near as many as everyone had made it out to be, but it was irrelevant at the time because it was before everything started going wrong, back when everyone still enjoyed my company and adored me (or most did, at least..)

However the other day at lunch, when I met up with Molly – one of my best friends; she pointed out, as she and Milla had known me the best last semester, that she could see a major difference in me. I wasn’t all over the place and jumping from guy to guy, or seeming to be lost in myself and whatever it was that, somehow and somewhat almost-haunted me. It was one of the only times I’d seen her that semester as she had just gotten a new boyfriend, whom she spent most of her time with. The last time was before Rafaele and I began to talk and she told me I was much the same at that time, so she felt as if she could only assume it was Rafaele who was having such a good, strong influence over me. She claimed it was as if I had found myself again, like I had finally figured out all my shit and had gotten my life together.

I honestly feel like Rafaele might have been the first guy I had truly began to actually care about since senior year of high school. I mean, obviously I wasn’t IN LOVE w the guy, but I did care about him. I think the only 3 people I had really cared and feared of losing the respect from and just losing, in the entirety of it; were Milla, Molly, and Rafaele. He really did try to rise above all the rumors and ignore the things people said to him about me. He, over and over again, gave me the benefit of the doubt. But, I guess even he couldn’t continue through or stick it out by my side.

The hardest part about it, I think is knowing that someone I counted on and cared about, lost all respect for me – and it scares me, bc I know now that I have hit rock bottom.

Boys 10:30 pm; June 20 2015

This weekend has blown my mind. My mom always told me boys and girls can never just be friends, that there will always be lingering feelings of attraction, even if it’s unrequited. The movies always told me the same thing too. This weekend has shown me that they were lying. Boys and girls really can just be friends. Good friends, even. It’s all a matter of finding the right guys who will love you no matter what you do, as they would love any other one of their bros.