"Blackout: Remembering the Things I Drank to Forget" by Sarah Hepola

Sarah Hepola

In the fall of 1993, the accidental lumberjack look was like a uniform at UT. I'd borrowed a gray flannel shirt and jeans flecked with paint from my father, and I loved how those jeans slid down my hips. I had to keep yanking them up, like a tiny girl in a giant's clothes. I tied the flannel shirt around my waist, which was a casual camouflage for my college weight gain. It's a little hot in here. I think I'll just completely block your view of my ass.