I have come to the conclusion that, at UT, a girl's level of craziness is directly porporitional to how underweight she is. ESPECIALLY IF SHE IS IN A SORORITY. If a chick is a little skinny, chances are she's only a tiny bit insane. But if she's near skeletal-slim, get the fuck away from her as fast as you possibly can.
Some (if not all) of the following traits apply to super skinny girls:
- Extremely self-conscious, constantly complains about how "fat" she is
- Has terrible relationship with family members and/or friends
- Shares highly personal information with complete strangers
- Clingy
- Obsessive (about exercise, weight, food, sex, etc.)
- Stalks ex-boyfriends, crushes, enemies, etc.
- Drug-addicted
- Desperate
Now let me explain, I'm not some bitter fattie-- at 5'5 I always stay under 130. I have arrived at the anorexic=crazy conclusion purely from my life experiences, especially in the Greek scene. Let me treat you with my most recent experience with a skinny, crazy bitch:
It's 2:30AM on a drunk Saturday night, and my quasi-boyfriend's phone won't stop ringing. Finally it almost vibrates off the counter. I laugh. He sighs, finally flips it open, and rather unenthusiastically answers, "Hello?"
I hear a female voice whining on the other line. Cape shrugs and invites the mystery girl over to come drink with us. I don't think this will be a big deal-- I like all his friends. Well, little do I know a hundred pounds of craziness is about to invade his apartment.
The pale wisp of a girl smiles and introduces herself to me as Elizabitch, er, I mean Elizabeth. She promptly removes a bag from her bra and cuts up lines of cocaine while telling me about her abortion and bipolar disorder. This is all within five minutes of meeting her.
WHAT THE FUCK?!
As if this isn't enough, the coke whore (who a friend creatively nicknamed "the cokie monster") grabs my man Cape's hand and begins flirting with him creeptastically. No girl should throw herself at a guy when his girlfriendish chick, or "love girl" as she calls me, is sitting on his bed watching. Her alarming behavior continues, and we hear about the times she tried to kill herself.
Finally the night winds down and she leaves us, probably to go cry and write suicidal poetry or something. I laugh off the experience as best I can and figured I'll probably never run into the Cokie Monster again. If only this held true...
