It might go against Scientology to record my thoughts but my thetan level is low enough that it might not matter until later, when I may become a master of the universe. I have to guess what the levels are called since Tom says that I’m not high enough in the order yet to know – much of anything.

While he is spending his time channeling L. Ron, I have tried to find the meaning of life in the temple of Barney’s. Did I say that? Because I didn’t mean it, in case you’re reading this my Scientology handlers. I meant that I just enjoy shopping. Because my life is so empty. By empty I mean FULL, though, it’s full of – shopping bags and hair cuts and love for L. Ron.

As first lady of Scientology, I must hold it together at all times  and no one knows the pressure that I’m under. Not only am I a fashion icon, I am an important actress and a vessel for scientology’s future. Even if I don’t have sex with Tom.

I must stop writing now. Tom is calling me and it’s time for my auditing, to free myself from the traumatic incidents of my life. Like my marriage. He worries when I start thinking or having friends, even ones as vapid as Posh.

Vapid. I love that word. I used words like that when I was living in Capeside. Oh, how I miss Dawson. He always knew me better than anyone else. I don’t wanna wait for my life to be over, I want to know right now what will it be… Dawson, I’ll leave my window open for you – please come.

Oh, no, Tom’s here. American Express, take me away…

As I continue to try and wrap my head around Sarah Palin, the GOP’s newest Vice Presidential pick (“a woman making strides toward the white house, good!”, “a woman who thinks the government has the right to tell her what her reproductive rights are, bad!”), a few wayward comments flying around the internet and media have gotten me really confused.  According to sources, Palin is on record stating that global warming is not man made, and that polar bears aren’t endangered

…What?

“A changing environment will affect Alaska more than any other state, because of our location.” Palin stated as early as a few weeks ago to a conservative magazine for it’s September issue. “I’m not one though who would attribute it to being man-made.”

As a moderate liberal, I can often support Republicans and Independents, as long as I believe their brain is in the right place. The thing is…denying humans have anything to do with global warming, and working to keep polar bears off the endangered list goes beyond politics and veers into …well…complete and utter wrongness. Read More »

How far will you go for your caffeine fix? Many of us can’t imagine starting our day without a kick-in-the-ass of caffeine via a latte, espresso, Red Bull or regular old coffee.

But isn’t there a more convenient alternative to carry in your purse or backpack for easy access during less-than-stimulating class? Mornings are hectic as it is – picking out a cute and semi-clean outfit, making sure you grab the right books, and checking the mirror for any potential embarrassments – who has time to grab a coffee?

Luckily, a few capitalistic masterminds have exploited our caffeine addiction. No, I’m not talking about those fools over at Starbucks; that’s old news. Enter the world of caffeinated munchies. Red Bulls and Power Bars have nothing on these chemically-enhanced, caffeine-infused snacks.

We’ve all seen the caffeine gums, but, Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.

Today’s caffeine fiends can choose from lollipops, chocolates, cookies, jellybeans and more. Here’s a rundown of the best indulgences to get you wired without suffering the evil burnt tongue: Read More »

This weekend is the only thing that stands between me and Chace Crawford.

Of course, I’m talking about the season premiere of Gossip Girl, which airs Monday, September 1 at 8:00 on the CW Network.

Since my life pretty much sucks– I’m not currently sleeping with anyone, I’m spending my “new clothes” money on speeding tickets, and I can barely afford my daily latte, let alone an extra-dry martini or a burlesque business venture–I’m looking forward on living vicariously through Dan, Jenny, Serena, Blair, Chuck, and, oh yes- Nate.

When GG left us at the beginning of the summer (which feels like eons ago), Serena’s brother, Eric, had just come out of the closet; Georgina had stopped into town just long enough to break up Serena and Dan; Chuck briefly scraped together an ounce of morale, only to eye-f*ck Amelia, Lily’s new interior designer; Blair hopped a plane with some random dude; and it seems that Serena and Nate and Dan and Vanessa were left to hang out for the summer. Read More »

I remember my life before I discovered Franzia and its wine-in-a-box counterparts. I was developing a hunchback from lugging a backpack full of Keystone cans around campus, hopping from dorm party to dorm party. Or, I would spend an arm and a leg on bottles of Bacardi (and the mixers to go with it), only to go through a whole bottle in one night after my friends had passed shots around the room.

At some point during my college career, I discovered that wine is stronger than beer and more consistent than mixed drinks, which are super weak at many stingy bars.

Wine became my go-to drink.

When I moved into an apartment with a fellow wino, we quickly realized that even 1.5 liter bottles of wine went too quickly, so to save gas on packy runs, we became avid boxers.

Boxed wine is completely underrated by many collegiates across the country. In the wine world, Franzia may have a bad rap, but come on; we’re college students. We have no money. We drink a lot. And we aren’t opposed to drinking Dubra when times are tight, so why exclude boxed wine from our list of libations?

In many states, wine comes in 5-liter boxes. That’s FIVE LITERS of booze for about $15. Depending on how much (or how little) you drink, that can easily be split throughout the night between you and your five closest friends, or you can suck it down yourself and not worry about another liquor run for a week or two. If you can’t find a 5-liter box, you’ll still be set with the “smaller” size box, which contains three liters of fermented grapes.

Heaven. Read More »

Listen up incoming freshmen: in a few weeks, you’re going to find yourself on a huge college campus full of more hook-up potential than you could ever dream. In the next few years, some of you will have long-term relationships, while many of you will engage in short-term hook-ups.

There are several types of college relationships that have an urban legend-esque feel to them: the sexy school girl and the married professor, the sexy school girl and the teaching assistant, and, of course, the sexy school girl and the resident assistant.

I have never hooked up with one of my RAs, but that’s because I’ve only ever had female RA’s. Still, I know plenty of people who have dabbled in these waters. I’m not here to condone or condemn the practice, because I’ve certainly had my fair share of regrettable trysts, but I am here to lay out some of the baggage that comes with such a hook up.

First of all, consider the fact that even inter-floor mating can lead to year-long awkwardness. If you fear the inevitable walk of shame, imagine the anxiety that comes with the chance that one of your floormates sees you leaving the RA’s room in last night’s bar clothes. Even if you survive the W.O.S, you risk the rumors and reputation — people are more apt to label someone “the girl that banged the RA” than “the chick who nailed whatshisname in 5B.” Even worse, if you can’t handle the tension of a chance meeting on the elevator (or on the way to the showers), you are biting off more than you can chew with by shacking up with your RA.

Your RA is someone you will probably have to turn to throughout the year. He’ll be the one to let you into your room when you are locked out wearing only a towel. This means he also has the master key to your room (not implying anything, just saying). He’s also someone who will have to keep tabs on you throughout the year. He’ll be writing you up for dorm parties, open containers, and that hole in your wall that you forgot to fix before move-out day. This fact alone can open up a brand new can of worms in Relationship Land. Read More »

Once upon a time, man survived by cooking his dinner over a fire. Then someone came along and invented The George Foreman Grill (I guess that someone would be George himself). And now? Now we don’t know how we could live without it.

But Georgie isn’t the only brilliant inventor out there; there are tons of kitchen thingies that will change your life.

I’ve compiled a list of cooking gadgets you don’t realize you need, but that is only because you haven’t used them yet. Forget DVR; these things are the best inventions since sliced bread.

1) I love corn on the cob, but I absolutely refuse to eat it unless someone cuts it off the cob for me. And since the only person who loves me enough to cut the corn off the cob for me is my dad, I don’t often get to enjoy it. But now that this gadget has been introduced into my life, I’m going to start eating it at every single chance I get! The corn on the cob stripper is the perfect dad replacement. If only it also gave me money… Read More »

It’s weird how when you’re away from your campus for so long and you finally roll into familiar stomping grounds, you feel like you never left. It seems like a dumb and cliché thing to say, but there’s something about being dropped from one familiar place (home) to another familiar place (school) that erases what little shock value might want to rear its ugly head.

Maybe it’s because I wanted to come back to school more badly than ever before, but I’m not having a hard time tucking summer into closets and chests. I’m still a little shell-shocked, though. I think it might have something to do with knowing that this is my last year here. I made this place my home more than real home, and not being here just sounds…wrong.

My school isn’t very nice to its upperclassmen, so I moved in on Saturday – which is a bitch when you live on the third floor with NO elevator – and started classes this Monday. I think maybe it’s to try and limit our Welcome Week to Welcome Weekend.

Like I told you guys last time, I’m playing the catch-up game, so I’ve got twenty credits this semester… and 16 next semester? Not sure how that one’s gonna work, what with my school only giving 4-credit courses, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. That’s five classes. Still, it’s nowhere near as bad as it sounds. There’s an ass-crack of dawn class (really, it’s only 8:30, but if the sun is still in the east it’s too early for me) that only has six people in it, a general psychology class STOCKED with freshmen (more on that later), an acting class that I can already see is going to be my chill-class, a colonial American Literature class with a professor who loves to hear himself talk, and an advanced poetry class that I still haven’t taken and I’m a little worried about. Read More »

I don’t do sports. I don’t play them, I don’t watch them, and I most importantly don’t understand them. I still get basketballs, footballs, and blueballs confused. Until I was not-so-gently corrected by a friend, I thought Tiki Barber was the name of a Hawaiian hair salon. So it comes as no surprise that I not only don’t participate in watching the weekend football games, but I actually go out of my way to avoid them.

My roommate and I have an understanding: I leave the apartment when she watches the Eagles game and she leaves the apartment when I watch Grey’s Anatomy. We both find the others’ television viewing choice ridiculous and pointless. On the rare occasion I make the mistake of sticking around during a football game I am subjected to her ear-piercing screams that are so loud and so full of energy that people must mistake her cheers for domestic abuse. When they are winning she shouts; when they are losing she screams. Either way, it’s a lose-lose situation for me.

However, she apparently isn’t the only one that enjoys the sport and over the years I’ve had to endure several games. By several, I mean two. I’ve learned a few things along the way: Read More »

So now you’re back on campus, away from the ‘rents, and you can go out and drink as much as you want. In moderation, of course. (At least that’s what you tell your parents…)

Need a reason to drink? Need some motivation? Too young to get into the bars?

These three games are sure-fire ways to get drunk and have fun without ever having to leave the house/dorm. Or simply as a little fun before the main event. Whatever. They are fun. Play them.

Beer Pong: This is the ultimate drinking game. If you don’t like beer, replace it with cider or Smirnoff or Bacardi (not straight up, please…you may die) or anything else tasty. Side note: In my recent travels abroad, I discovered that we Americans take this game very, very seriously. Do not attempt to cheat during a beer pong game. You will be seriously heckled and possibly thrown out. Unless everyone’s too drunk to notice (which is entirely possible).

Flip Cup: The first time I played this, I didn’t realize that the entire team had to flip their cups over. I thought the contest was over after the first pair. And everyone was just looking, and looking, and looking at me…

Kings: I couldn’t find a satisfactory link to rules, so here they are as I play it. (Which is the best way.): Read More »