"i don't care if you think i'm racist.

... as long as you think i'm thin."

once said sarah silverman, a prominent jewish comedian (aephi?).

(she also said "i don't set out to offend or shock, but i also don't do anything to avoid it.")

i don't really care what my college-wash-u friends think about me.

as long as this weekend, at the wedding, they think i'm thin.

...just kidding. kind of.

i haven't seen the vast majority of my college friends since the day after we were proud to be the only class to graduate from wash u as a top ten (but hardly big ten) university.

we graduated. i packed. we cried. i drove to dc. and began my first job four days after listening to thomas friedman's "i have a dream" speech. (that was thomas friedman, right?)

having a handful of truly good peers when i left college was a remarkable feat for me, since when i got to wash u freshman year, the prospects of me being socially inclined were slim. i was sure that i was doomed for a hundred years of solitude, and i was fairly convinced my life was over.

(which, if you think about it, is a pretty typical debbie reaction to anything mildly new or different.)

and just like every other situation in my life, a certain someone stepped in to rescue me. i rarely consider myself a damsel in distress in need of saving. i can take care of myself. yet a select few people know that i will probably ask for help when i don't really need it -- and know that i will never ask for help when i actually do.

and that's when the certain someone sent a little colombian jew with big brown eyes and a bob haircut bouncing into my dorm room.

"i'm iiiiiiiiiiiiiilana!" she said.

i'm lonely. i'm depressed. i'm homesick. but "i'm debbie," was the only thing that came out of my mouth. same thing.

the rest is history. ilana and i became (almost) best friends. which wasn't hard because she was pretty much best friends with everyone. she was just like that. ilana was kinda like gabe (www.gabrielroth.blogspot.com) in that respect. but with smaller ears. and a bigger butt.

come to think of it, a lot of my frineds in college were just easy-going-easy-to-get-along-with people (save for spi). well, either that or all my high-school-miami-friends were not-so-easy-going-not-easy-to-get-along-with people.

anyway.

ilana, like most college freshman not clever enough like me to request a single room, had a less than ideal forced-triple roommate situation. frustrated, she essentially moved in with me. my once roomy 8x8 single turned into a forced-double dorm room. needless to say. we became close -- there wasn't enough room to not be.

that year, ilana made me practice my spanish (and yes, our families know each other in colombia). she is the reason i minored in business and am consequently pursuing an mba. and after i failed my first calculus test, it was ilana who pointed out that i should probably not become a mathematician.

our junior year, ilana fell in love with a guy who lived down our hall, and she has never looked back. she did everything she could to woo him, and when that didn't work, i gave her my copy of the movie "notting hill," sent her to the trash chute conveniently located directly outside his room to empty the recycle bin (see, amy, i recycle), and locked the door behind her.

ilana is getting married this weekend. to our RA (residential advisor) ... the guy who lived down our hall next to the trash chute. they still have yet made it all the way through "notting hill."

and except for spi (see with friends like these...), who i more-or-less saw by accident, i haven't seen my college crew in almost two years. and for whatever stupid reason, i'm nervous. what if they think now that i'm fat? or uncool? or an overachiever?

and what if they realize i've always been those things?

so naturally, i've spent all week primping (primp = answer to a jeopardy clue this week). i watched what i ate. i bleeched my teeth. i deep-conditioned my hair. i got my dress dry-cleaned. i painted my toe nails. i tanned.

by no stretch of the imagination, i stretched my aephi legs this week.

and come time for the wedding, i have no doubt that there will be pictures of me a little intoxicated, wearing flip flops, touting my cleavage, and probably winning the "fist in my mouth" contest. the contest i will no doubt have instigated.

afterall, you can take the girl away from college, but you can't take the college out of a girl.

just like you can take girl away from the RA, but you can't ... eww.