The Horny Co-Ed’s Guide to Celibacy

After a stint of boy craziness that’s lasted maybe ten years, I’ve had one bad break-up too many and recently entered a period of no-men-under-any-circumstances- and-I-mean-it, lasting indefinitely.

Don’t get me wrong– I like being single. I’m pretty independent. I can still study and interact with other humans. I function. But when it comes to the menfolk, I get easily distracted. And attempting to stay celibate in college is like asking Whitney Houston to get clean in a crack house. So, thinking that the best offense is a good defense, I’m using a plethora of methods to stay on track and focused.

These are the ones that didn’t work.

Fattening Food I started eating pizza every day. Like, a lot of pizza. There’s this place down the street from my house that serves whole pies for five dollars. (I get the “Oahu,” which is just fancy-pants for Hawaiian. Eating an entire pie in less than three minutes almost helps you forget you’re totally pathetic.) And the first few days I was feeling all blob-like and disgusting, but that’s actually passed. Because after a few weeks I’ve plumped up a bit, and now my skin glows (read: has a greasy sheen) from the extra calories. It kind of makes me want to have a baby. Which is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Doogie Howser, M.D. Initially, I thought using viewings of Doogie Howser, M.D. on Hulu to stop thinking about dating was a great idea. I mean, the Doogster’s like the definition of innocence and purity. I was so, so wrong. Doogie Howser is really freaking earnest and adorable, and also kind of good looking in an (obviously) boyish way. I don’t care that he’s sixteen, or that our fictional relationship is very, very illegal. I want to be his date to the junior prom, and then I want him to give me an emergency appendectomy. And then I want to scrub myself with a wire brush for being such a perv.

Office Hours “Hey, Dr. McQueen. Can we talk about the upcoming exam for a little bit?” This is how it starts. This is how it ALWAYS starts. Because cute professors are still fun, but they’re off-limits. It’s like having only a bite of a chocolate bar — not harmful, and just enough to hold you over. And then you’re drinking too much and feeling a little restless, and then you’re leaving voicemails on Dr. McQueen’s work extension where you slur, “I’m not wearing any panties,” and then his wife is all “Who is this girl?” and then you’re having meetings with the Dean of Students, and then you’re forced to drop out of British Modern Lit because of the restraining order. It’s all very exhausting.

Knitting I saw this on Grey’s Anatomy. I think somewhere in the second (third?) season, Meredith uses knitting to distract herself from the fact that she can’t keep off McDreamy and every other random dude at Joe’s Bar. Her routine lasts maybe five minutes before she drops the yarn in favor of some loving. I should have learned from her mistakes. This is mostly because knitting is one of those things that only really cool artsy girls do (which I am not), and also because knitting needles are clearly phallic, and therefore unconsciously distracting. Knitting is also super boring. Mer didn’t stand a chance, and nor did I.

New ideas to help me stay off dudes this for this week: buying a cat, raking leaves, learning to juggle. We’ll see which ones work. Wish me luck.