Sophomore year I had gone through a bad breakup, things weren’t going so well with my roommate and my grades were plummeting. Long days running my frustration out at the gym and longer nights of drowning my sorrows in alcohol were really wearing down my system. I knew a breakdown was looming, but there was no predicting when or where it was going to happen.

Which was quite unfortunate for me.

I began to hang out with a freshman that I had known from my hometown. He was a good friend and I felt really comfortable with him. One weekend night, we had gone out to a party together and gone back to my dorm room after. My roommate was asleep in her bed and things between us were less than stellar, so me and the boy had to find another place suitable for… Well, you know.

My room was conveniently located right across the hall from the bathroom and we found sanctuary in the shower stall. With the water running and privacy in the form of a plastic curtain, we were good to go. Things went smoothly for awhile, and then I felt a rising bubble of panic in my chest. Maybe it was the thought of rubbing up against the dirty shower walls, or maybe it was just finally my time to let it all out, but something was happening.

Yes, I was about to have a mental breakdown right in the middle of shower sex. Talk about inopportune.

I buckled right then and there, sank to the bottom of the shower, and poured my heart out to this man. Actually, I poured it out to his junk, which was then at eye level. To say I was sobbing is an understatement. The combination of alcohol and panic created a toxic truth serum, and I told him everything that was plaguing me. As a nice snot/water mixture dripped down my face. I then made him run across the hall to my sleeping roommate, naked mind you, and fetch me a towel.

The next morning we began to discuss what had happened the night before. Color me mortified. In the light of day, my shower stall confessions were humiliating and I had no way of erasing them. Or did I.

In my best attempt at seriousness, I looked him straight in the eye and said: “I wasn’t crying last night because of everything I told you. I was crying because I wasn’t wearing shower shoes.”

He nodded his head and said he understood. Those bathrooms can be quite unsanitary.

It was then that I learned the greatest life lesson: Never underestimate the power of shower shoes.

Whenever we need to make a difficult decision, we make a list. You know, like when we were choosing a school, when we were choosing a date to the first sorority date party, or when we weren’t sure which we loved more: our Prada backpack or our Skechers.

So when are constantly faced with the awful decision of which hot mess of a celebrity is more hot messy, we make a list. Yes, this is a decision we feel the need to make on a weekly basis; we have a lot of time on our hands.

Moving on.

This week’s showdown is between two of our favorite celebs to watch (as they completely meltdown into a pile of crazy mush): Amy Winehouse and Britney Spears. Who is more of a train wreck? God, that’s a tough call, so let’s break it down.

Rehab
Amy Winehouse: Amy said she wouldn’t go to rehab, no no no. Yet, after spending quite a few nights on everything from heroin to horse tranquilizers, the troubled singer ended up there. More than once.

Britney Spears: I lost track of how many times Britney headed to rehab. There was the time she checked into Eric Clapton’s Crossroads Centre, and then that time when she was at Promises when she checked in and then back out and then in again. Lets just say Brit Brit knows her way around addiction counseling.

Point: Britney Spears. It’s all in the numbers. Amy may have sang about it, but Britney visited rehab centers more often than I the bathroom during a night of flip cup. And you know that’s often.

Breakdown
Amy Winehouse: Where do we even begin with this one? Amy is no stranger to breakdowns. She has been known to beat up fans, forget her own lyrics on stage, get in bloody fights with her husband, get caught on tape smoking mysterious substances and walk around in a bra exposing her rail thin body.

Britney Spears: Once again we have another long drawn out train wreck. There was that time she attacked the paparazzi with her umbrella, then dated the paparrazzi, tried on a British accent, shaved her head, put on thirty pounds and lost her children in a custody battle all within the span of about a year.

Point: Tie. A breakdown is a breakdown. No winner here. Except the gossip mags.

Hair
Amy Winehouse’s hair is the stuff legends are made of. (It’s also the stuff that animals get caught in.) An entire Halloween section is devoted to that beehive alone. Just think of all the things she can store in there (crack pipes, flasks, lunch…)

Britney Spears shaved her own head. Who knows it if was because of the drug testing or the “make over”  but either way, Britney went bald. And then covered up her bad judgment call with a number of cheap colorful wigs.

Point: Amy Winehouse. Even though both ladies had some pretty daring dos,  Amy is still rocking that signature look While Brit is back to boring blonde.

Inner Circle
Amy Winehouse’s parents were tight with paparazzi throughout her downward spiral. Although they were making it public that they were worried about their daughter, they were still doing so in a public forum. And then there’s Amy’s beloved husband Blake, who personally escorted her to her professional demise and is now sitting behind bars trading pics of his lady for lines of coke.

Britney Spears. Where do you start with this one? Her mom is the ultimate stage mom, her dad has been managing her every move since she was 12, and her sister had a baby at 12. (Ok, 16.) And if all that isn’t dramatic enough, Britney is also connected to a series of shady characters like Adnan Ghalib who may or may not have been working with the paparazzi to profit off of Brit-Brits downward spiral, and Sam Lutfi who may have contributed to it.

Point: Britney Spears. Although both ladies have some serious enablers in their lives, Amy drugged herself. Again and again and again. And again. Britney had no idea what people were putting in her applesauce.

Kids
Amy Winehouse has yet to reproduce. Thank. God.

Britney Spears is the mother to 2 mistakes kids, Jayden James and Sean Preston. Who she has almost killed on multiple occasions.

Point: Britney Spears… At least until Amy has her own children to screw up.

Celebretard Prize: Britney Spears
Yayyyy, Britney! This truly is the year of your comeback!

I do know that when Britney stopped by The Late Show with David Letterman last November, rocking a sleek new haircut and a hotter body than we’d seen in quite a while, I cheered. In fact, I was inspired. Thanks to the aforementioned bags of Cheetos, I wasn’t looking so hot myself at the time, but if Britney could pull herself together, I could find my way back to the gym, too!

And when she dumped K-Fed the very next day, I really began to hope. “I’m so proud of her,” I told my suitemates. “In fact,” I declared, “if she comes out with a new album, I will seriously buy it.”

Well, you know what happened next. There was drinking, bloating, shaving her head, in rehab, out of rehab, ridiculous wigs, more rehab. And those are just the highlights. Her “comeback” mini-tour wasn’t exactly encouraging, either.

At the very least, I was optimistic about her hair. After all the cheap extensions and switching from blonde to brunette every few days, I thought shaving it all off was a blessing in disguise. Haven’t we all made reckless decisions that damaged our hair, and wished we could just start fresh?

But then, just as soon as her two-inch tresses were long enough, the bleach and the bad extensions were back again. For me, this may have been the final betrayal. Haven’t you learned anything, Britney? Anything at all? Evidently not.

And yet, somehow, there is still a part of me that dares to dream. Please, Britney, I know you have it in you. Years ago, it was your bare midriff that motivated my daily crunches. Just leave your hair alone for a while, okay? I’m still rooting for you.

Holy shit. College is ending.

And I am having a serious breakdown.

1. What the hell am I going to do with my English degree?

2. When am I going to see my friends again?

3. Where am I going to live?

4. How am I going to support myself without the help of my dad (who I have totally wrapped around my finger, might I add)?

5. What am I going to do when the college life I have gotten so accustomed to is over?

I know that these are things most people thought about months ago (especially the job stuff!), but I am really bad at accepting reality. Like the fact that everyone can tell my Marc Jacobs bag is fake. I like to pretend that everything is fine. In my world, if I think something is true then it must be true. So for awhile, I pretended like college wasn’t ending. Instead, this was just another year leading into yet another summer.

But today my bubble burst. As I sat with my counselor to finish my senior audit I actually broke down and started to cry. The avalanche of reality came crashing on top of me and for a moment I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. It was no longer a joke. I suddenly realized that I am 22 with no idea what my future holds for me. My friends will be spreading out across the country and around the world. I don’t know what I want to do with my life.

For the first time I am in complete control of my destiny and it scares the crap out of me.

My counselor tried to comfort me, but she had 3 people waiting outside the office to see her. She also seemed a little shocked and confused by my tears (read: sobbing) and clearly didn’t know how to handle it. She handed me a Werthers and told me to come back next week when she had some more time…and a dry Audit form.

I walked out of her office and called my best friend to tell her what happened. She laughed hysterically and then agreed to meet me for ice cream. We talked for awhile and while I still have many unanswered questions (and a shitload of anxiety), I did realize that avoiding thoughts of my future isn’t going to make it go away. I need to embrace the fact that change is coming and be proactive about it.

And, with only a month of school left, I really need to get out more and take lots and lots of pictures.