Ah, Date Night, that savior of sanity for those in long term relationships. As enjoyable as it is to snuggle up in bed/futon/couch with your honey watching Comedy Night Done Right, it gets old after a few weeks (or a few months, depending on how hilarious you find Michael Scott and Jack Donaghy). David and I were starting to itch for some company other than those who work at Dunder Mifflin, so last weekend he planned us a good ol’ fashioned date night.

Last week I arrived home from a long semester of stressful classes, crazy busy sorority officer responsibilities, and some semblance of a poppin’ social life. I was thrilled to be home and free from the hectic world of a college woman, but I was (and still am) most excited about the prospect of spending an entire, almost uninterrupted, 3 months with David. He graduated last December, and while we survived our first semester of LDR, the bi-weekly 6-hour trips to visit each other were wearing on both our cars’ mileage and our nerves.

Even though this month’s Cosmo is all about the new year, it just included more of the same old: a feature on Girl-on-Top, a few pointers on how to get hot guys naked, and their annual Bedside Astrologer (!!). It also featured a two page lingerie spread with advice from the Victoria’s Secret Angels…then continued to reference VS like 6 more times throughout the issue.

So, I know this month’s Cosmo Says is fashionably late (blame it on a premature reaction to Tryptophan), but it’s here now. And you should be happy because not only was the December issue chock full of goodies, but now you have something to distract you while your little cousins run around your house screaming and you attempt to digest that 3lbs of stuffing you just inhaled.

Alright guys, I’m gonna level with you: I’m a big fan of the brewskies. I like Sam Adams Pumpkin Ale, Sweetwater 420, the occasional stein of Newcastle, and the slightly more frequent funnel full of Bud Light. I particularly like that I can drink copious amounts of beer without the consequences that would come from drinking the same amount of vodka, water & lime.

If you go to college, chances are you’ve eaten at a dining hall. You’ve experienced gourmet menu items such as “liquid mashed potatoes” and “Sahara-dry chicken.” And as delightful as your dining experience was, chances are you felt the results of that extra serving of corn a short time later as you were flooring it for the communal bathroom.

My dearest Cosmo has always had a special affinity for body language analysis (I think they’ve done Speidi like 6 times). Now they’re taking it to the next level and making it all easy, convenient and user-friendly for you! Cosmo understands the trials and tribulations of dating, especially when we need to figure out the bizarre and complex behavior of the male species.

So we’ve all heard this particularly morbid myth (no, not any of the ones from Urban Legends—although Brenda was a bad-ass scary killer) about one surefire, if not tragic, way to snag a 4.0. The general myth goes a little something like this: If your roommate dies, you automatically achieve a 4.0 average for the semester.

We’ve all been there. It’s 9:04 am on a chilly Wednesday. We’re regretting our decision to pass on Starbucks (and especially regretting the decision to have a “practice” beer pong tournament with the roomies last night). We’re drumming our fingers on our desks, thinking of our still warm beds, wondering if our professor is going to show (and praying that she doesn’t).

When I asked her what was up, she sighed and told me that she’d always wanted to live in a sorority house, but unfortunately the city where her campus was located strictly forbade her chapter from having one. “Why the anti-Panhellenic attitude?” I asked.