Because of my recent discovery that I lack of knowledge of anything that doesn’t involve Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan, I decided to take a little time to read the New York Times today. Not only did I learn about Barack Obama’s plan for universal health care in the United States, but I also came across an extremely interesting article about college admissions.

According to the article a few universities across the country have begun to change their admittance policies and consider socio-economic status when accepting applicants. Sort of like Affirmative Action but with yearly income instead of racial heritage. Read More »

“Don’t tell me it’s not worth fightin’ for

Everything I do – I do it for you”

Oh Bryan, how many times have I secretly turned that song up in the car, letting that raspy voice of yours lull me into a romantic haze? You’re my secret boyfriend. And that song you sing with Sting (my other secret boyfriend) and Rod Stewart (who I don’t want to be my boyfriend at all) where you all urge me to make it “all for one and all for love” has the ability to transport me out of my cynical cloud for two whole minutes.

I’m not ashamed of my secret soft spot for soft rock. I’m not embarrassed that whenever a Backstreet Boys ballad mysterious turns up on my iTunes, I let it play out entirely, soaking up every syrupy sound wave. In this complicated world, soft rock is there to pretend things are simple. Love is love, heartbreak is heartbreak, and everyone is willing to die for a lifetime with their soul mate. After weekends full of “hey baby, why don’t me and you go into the bathroom and make out?”, it’s always nice to know Phil Collins is there, waiting to tell me he “can’t stop loving me” as many times as I feel like replaying the track. Read More »

I admit it, I log onto sites like PerezHilton almost daily. Why? Mostly because I’m avoiding work I should be doing—a writer who hates staring at a computer screen spends a lot of time procrastinating—but also because I like the idea of watching celebrities act stupid. It’s lame, and a little selfish, but watching someone who’s got more money and power and status than I do make horrible life or outfit decisions is entertaining to me.

Am I jealous? Maybe a little. But I think the biggest motivator to peruse gossip blogs is the desire to break though the façade of Hollywood. I just can’t believe everyone is that cool and calm and collected and beautiful all the time. The writer in me wants to see the reality behind the fake tan. Read More »

Must be a misprint, right? Actually, no. Turns out, a new study shows that female cheetahs are sluts. Yep, according to the article, “new research shows nearly half of their litters are made up of cubs with different fathers.” That’s pretty impressive work. Of course, all this sex obviously comes at a price, as researchers claim that the cheating cheetahs find themselves more exposed not only to predators as they seek out new partners, but to diseases as well. Sort of makes me feel better that humans aren’t the only creatures that can be punished for enjoying life’s sexual pleasures more often then perhaps we should be.

For me, this brings up an interesting question. Diseases notwithstanding (and I know it’s hard to completely disregard that consequence), would girl sleep around more if it were more socially acceptable? In my opinion, the chief reason that most girls aren’t as “slutty” as their male counterparts is just that: the word slut, and other such derogatory terms.

Everyone knows at this point about the sick double standard that differentiates guys and girls and their respective sexual habits. Guys who get around receive accolades from their friends, and pick up reputations as players and general badasses (note: this is not always the case, as I’m now carrying around a reputation of being a bit of a slut myself). But if a girl sleeps around, and people find out about it, the girl is usually labeled as a slut or whore, and she gets made fun of incessantly behind her back by both guys and her fellow girls (way to stick together, ladies). Read More »

I’m having a Sex and the City déjà vu moment. I was watching the episode where Miranda decides that she’ll buy all new bed sheets under the theory that if her bed is a place she wants to be, then others will want to be there too. Or as Carrie put it, “if you build it, he will cum.” So, with that said, I head over to Bed, Bath & Beyond and decide that my even though my current sheets are white, fabulous and 800 thread-count, they are starting to look a little dingy and it’s time to invest in a new set. I’m plowing through the sheets…too green, too thick, too thin, too ugly, 250 thread-count…you must be joking…and I’m starting to realize that I’m just as picky with my sheets as I am with men!

It was just then that this amazingly hot, tall, sexy man appeared and was also eyeing the 600 thread-count white sateen cotton sheets that were on sale for $75 from $100…love. He must be gay. There’s no way that this perfect man could appear out of nowhere, be super hot AND have good taste. Read More »

I have a little claim to fame.

Well, let’s not kid ourselves—I have lots of claims to fame, some not fit for print—but this one has both made people shake their heads at my ridiculousness and saved me valuable time and energy. What is it? Why, my habit of working one day at a new internship and then promptly quitting.

Yes, it’s true. In fact, I just did it again two days ago.

And I’m glad.

It seems strange to work so hard for something, namely, a summer internship, and then leave after a day. But I’m here to tell you it’s not strange or lazy, provided you’re doing it for the right reasons.

I was pumped about this internship. It was with an organization I respected, was involved in exactly what I want to be involved in once grad school ends and the Loan Monster starts nipping at my heels, and the people connected seemed great. I was optimistic that the last summer internship of my life would truly make use of the talents I’ve been spending thousands of dollars to foster.

But alas, on the first day, it became clear that this was not to be. The morning started out with menial tasks, and the literary manager—someone I thought I’d be working for—hardly looked in my direction except to ask me to address an envelope for him (why the presence of interns make people forget how to do the simplest tasks, I’ll never know). Five hours into the day I was walking around New York, lugging huge packages across midtown and deciding just how and when I’d say goodbye.

But wait! You say, couldn’t that just have been a case of the First Days?

Read More »

I went to a women’s college. I also got laid…A lot.

In college I went to frat parties and had a boyfriend. My friends and I threw theme parties and keg parties and could kick ass at flip cup and beer pong. I had guys spend the night. In those ways, I did have the traditional college experience.

We also have Fall Fest, a sort of homecoming/ class competition where classes were cancelled and we drink for practically 48 hours straight. I have chilled with alumnae well into their eighties and nineties. My religion professor choked up when we hugged goodbye. I could take my favorite recipes to the dining hall and they would make them. I used to take coffee breaks with the cleaning lady. And I went to school with 800 girls. So in these respects, my college experience was completely untraditional. Read More »