You're on the ride, you might as well open your eyes

One of the weirdest, most bipolar weekends ever. With illustrations.

High: Booked a cruise for spring break with seven of my girlfriends. I've never had a crazy spring break (call me a weirdo, but having drunken college guys paw me in a dirty, crowded bar in Mexico is not my idea of a rollicking good time), so this should be a lot of fun. I'm psyched. Yes, psyched.

Low: Trying to make Nutella meringues for World Nutella Day on Feb. 5th. Why I thought stirring the delicious, dense, chocolate spread into the lightest, fluffiest meringue batter wouldn't end in disaster is beyond me. I couldn't bear to let the Nutella go to waste, though, so I tried to transform the resulting glop into regular cookies, then finally ended up dumping the whole thing in a pan and sticking it in the oven to see what happened. I guess I thought little magic Nutella fairies would pop out and transform it into a magnificent hazelnut chocolate cake, but really it ended up looking and tasting like a sponge that someone used to clean off the bottom of their dirty shoes. Nutella, I let you down. You give and give and give, and then I do that to you. I'm sorry.

High: Singing karaoke at Cafe Japone with my friends last night. The waitresses there are the meanest, rudest ones I've ever met, the drinks are ridiculously overpriced and practically liquor-free, but their book of 15,000 karaoke songs makes up for it. (Tip: the popularity of "Sweet Caroline" increases exponentially with the amount of drinks the crowd consumes.)

Low: I got waitlisted. At my top choice law school. Which is kind of like them saying, "Well, you're not really good enough for us, but just to screw with you we'll leave you with the tiniest hope you'll still get in, and just to be really mean we won't outright reject you until August." Thanks, guys.

High: I. am. going. back. to. Paris.