The Sisterhood Code of Silence

How do you blog about a Code of Silence, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. You, if you are me, are a rat and you blog about pretty much anything. Unfortunately for you, if you are me, most of the ratting out to be done is on yourself. So, no one really cares if you blog about it.

It was Homecoming at my alma mater this weekend, and I met up with a bunch of my sorority sisters for an evening of nostalgic fun. I haven't been back to Bowling Green since a year or so after I graduated. Even the billboards were the same. Sort of creepy, but also comforting. The girls, however, have gotten nothing but better.

Ways you know the weekend has gotten away from you:

The afternoon begins with DG4 telling you "you should blog about this" in reference to fun things like people who sing curse words anywhere other than rap songs. (FYI, she was against it.) The evening ends with DGs1-6* begging you "for the love of God don't blog about this" in reference to everything that happened after around 9pm.

There was a serious discussion at one point about DG1's camel toe.

You check in to the hotel (a term I use loosely) and immediately check for bedbugs. DG2 refuses to put her suitcase on the floor for fear of things jumping into it. When you get home that night (another term I use loosely), DGs2, 5 and 6 sleep on the floor.

DGs1 and 3 hump the anchor.  Oddly, this happens before any drinking has started.

DG2 accidentally orders a beer the size of her head -- literally -- at lunch, and officially declares her night over before it has begun.

You visit the sorority house, find your composite (in the study, on the third floor, where old DG pictures go to die and young DGs go to laugh at the bad hair and makeup choices), and get invited to an after-hours party at the Delt house. Just like old times.

The nineteen year old who invites you to the house party is overheard having the following phone conversation: "I'm sitting here with some alumnae... they found scrapbooks of themselves and they're telling funny stories about when they were in the house... I invited them to the Delt party... I mean, yeah, they're old, but don't worry, they seem cool." Slightly less like old times.

DG1 finds an adorable picture of DG5 in an old scrapbook. In it, DG5 is laughing and clapping. And has a bow in her hair. DG1 passes the photo around. DG6 notices something strange going on in the background of the photo. DG3 turns a strange shade of pink, and explains that the scene in the background -- two DGs in a compromising position on a folding table in a classroom surrounded by people -- is in fact her Sneak. (Sneak is when the pledges find out dirt on all the seniors, then crash chapter one night and reenact what they learned, and everyone has to guess which senior they're making fun of. Some are really innocent -- our Homecoming queen that year got engaged and walked around with bridal magazines all the time. Some, as DG3 discovered, involve the naughtiest of numbers.)

You make a meant-to-be-funny comment about "cougaring the shit out of that town" on Facebook earlier in the week. DGs3 and 4 make good on it. (For what it's worth, those kids wanted to be cougared. They were literally begging for it. And by "it", I mean for us to buy them alcohol.)

When you leave for the night, there are two people in your room. When you wake up the next morning, there are four. Two of whom are unnameable.

At 3:00 on Monday afternoon, you notice there is still a black bar stamp on the back of your hand. Which means it's probably still somewhere on your face.

*These numbers are arbitrary and made up and really just for fun. So don't bother trying to figure out who I'm talking about.