I think last night might have been the best episode of Tough Love yet. In fact, I’m ready to say it might be some of the best TV I’ve seen since Bromance (but then again, I clearly have no standards). Watching that episode sent me on a roller coaster of emotion and since the shades on my window were open and the people across the street can see into my place, they would have seen this:

Me laughing.
Me staring at the screen in shock.
Me laughing really loud (this is probably when Taylor was talking; that bitch is funny).
Me eating snacks.
Me plucking my eyebrows during the commercials.
Me picking my jaw up off the floor.
Me screaming at the TV.

Steve’s idea to bring the girls’ past and present together into one seriously awkward dinner party was deliciously brilliant. Of course, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a part of that, but it was pretty awesome to watch. Especially a few select ladies:

Natasha: I always found this girl to be incredibly boring. She was what I like to refer to as “tofu,” because she has no flavor of her own and only picks up the flavors around her. Last night, though, I learned that the girl has some major flava…and she probably tastes like whiskey.

Natasha did what any shy, uncomfortable girl would do when she’s faced with her immature Indian ex boyfriend and a perfectly nice pretty boy in one place: she hit the bar. Hard. And then she not only embarrassed herself, but she called the guy a d-bag on national television. I felt for her – we’ve all dealt with awkward situations by getting completely sh*t-faced – but watching her left me feeling so uncomfortable. Sorta like watching Meet The Parents. Or a train-wreck.

Jacklyn: So her Texas ex and her California stud muffin are in the same place. And then Jodi gets involved and starts trying to “fix” things. Awkward? Yes. Do I feel bad? I’ll put it this way: No.

That girl gets to make out in a hot tub with the hottest guy ever and I get to sit home alone on Sunday nights with a bowl of granola and a cup of tea living vicariously through her. I feel bad for me. And I want a Brock of my very own.

Arian: There is so much to say about Arian last night that I really don’t know where to start. Birth would probably be a good place, considering the mother that she comes from. Now, I totally understand a mother siding with her daughter (even when she gets totally wrong information), but calling my boyfriend someone a tool as an adult woman is just despicable. And then laughing about your daughter being a total whore and explaining it as “she’s just like me, she just takes it one step further” totally explains that unstable, insecure and promiscuous daughter you’ve produced.

After watching Arian break down about getting in the hot seat and then throwing her suitcases down the stairs, I’m a little worried about Steve’s safety. Homeboy needs some serious protection (and I’d be happy to assist). But now she’s gone…and probably humping every guy in L.A., so Steve is free to give his attention to drunk Natasha, annoying Jessa, and the rest of the ladies of the house.

So much drama. So much amazingness.
And when did Taylor get so damn lovable? I think I might want her as my new BFF (no offense to my current BFF)!

Now, let me explain something real quick to you guys; teenagers scare the living shit out of me. No, really, they do. After being teased and taunted for years, a group of teenagers giggling and laughing anywhere near me automatically puts me on edge. But I was willing to walk through the halls infested with these loud cockroaches to see my old teachers.

I went to a school with a mild crime problem, so of course there was a security van parked in front. When I passed by, the guy honked at me, and I groaned to myself. I really didn’t feel like dealing with security, but I turned and went over to the car. Turns out it was one of my favorite guards, and he greeted me pretty happily before I went in.

I made the rounds to my favorite teachers. Two of them – two of the most important to me – weren’t there, so the chances that I’ll go back to see them before the year is up are pretty high. I was surprised how everyone remembered me so well. Probably the funniest reoccurring question was, “Are you seriously a senior?” Three years didn’t really seem like a lot, but it was. The auditorium and the music wing were both redone, and all of the kids had LAPTOPS. At the risk of sounding like an old grump, when I went to school, we didn’t get laptops. We had to crowd around one of the four computers in the room and share. Dang nabbit.

I know it’s weird to go back to a place that used to be home and isn’t anymore. I knew exactly where I was going at every turn, but I didn’t recognize any of the students and most of the professors. But after a pretty rough semester, it was nice to go back and see that really, not a whole lot has changed.

I’m visiting my junior high school later this week. That should be real kick in the face.