FML.

You roll out from underneath your covers to turn off your alarm clock. You’ve got a very busy day ahead of you: three classes, a group meeting and a date with your roommates to catch up on Glee from the past three weeks. Everything has been so busy lately you haven’t had time to eat a meal, let alone get your weekly dose of Finn. If you’re not sleeping, you’re in class, and if you’re not there you’re in the library, oftentimes well past midnight.

And it’s finally catching up to you.

As you try to rouse yourself out of bed, you feel it. Your head hurts, you can’t swallow and your whole body just feels achy. You walk to the bathroom to wash up, hoping it’s just one of those “I slept with my mouth open” deals; it will go away in a few minutes.

Only it doesn’t. In fact, bending over the sink to splash some water on your face makes you dizzy and angers the little men pounding hammers against the inside of your skull. It’s official: you’re sick.

“Oh god. Could it be Swine Flu??”

You crawl back to your room and sit down at your computer. You enter your symptoms into WebMD figure out your diagnosis/rule out any deadly diseases. You learn that you either have the flu… or meningitis. Either way, you need to take your temperature, which you cannot do since you don’t have a thermometer. Maybe you can just sleep it off?

Before getting back into bed, you send a quick email your professors/group members/roommates to let them know that you are sick. You do not mention the word “flu”; you don’t need anyone sending you to the Swine Flu quarantine, thankyouverymuch.

Your body is really hurting now so you shut your computer and climb back into bed. You’re thirsty, you’re achy and, dammit, you want your mom. So you call her. Yeah, she’s over 6 hours away, but at least she’ll tell you what to do… and feel bad for you.

And feel bad she does. She tells you to drink lots of fluids, get lots of rest and call her when you wake up. Even though you knew all of those things, just talking to her makes you feel a little better. You hang up, roll over and go back to sleep.

When you wake up a few hours later you’re feeling worse. You try to drink some water but you can’t swallow. And forget eating; even the thought of a piece of toast makes your stomach churn. You debate going to the health center; those “doctors” a joke and that requires getting dressed and walking across campus. But what other choice do you have? You call your mom.

After getting a sufficient amount of pity and love from mama (“Oh honey, you know I’d bring you soup if I was there.”), you decide to go to the doctor. You pull on your biggest sweats, put your hair up in a ponytail, throw on your glasses and head out. You look like crap and you know it, but you don’t care. As unflattering as those men’s sweatpants are, you still feel a hell of a lot worse than you look. As you walk past other students laughing on their way to class you silently curse the world, asking the guy upstairs why you have to be sick. And why is the health center so far away? And why does everything hurt so badly?

Eventually you make it, sign in and sit down in the room full of coughing students, closing your eyes in hopes it will make your headache go away. 45 minutes and two phone calls to mom later, the doctor calls you in. She spends 6 minutes examining you – which includes questions on your sexual history for some reason – then tells you it’s the flu, there’s nothing she can do and you just need lots of fluid and lots of rest. Then she places her gloved hand on the small of your back and pushes you out of her office so she can let the next sickling in.

You call your mom again on the way home to whine a little more. Then again when you’re back in bed. Then again when your roommate brings you chicken soup that isn’t nearly as good as hers. Then you turn off the phone, dive under your covers and fall asleep. At 7 p.m. Missing yet another week of Glee.

Yeah, we’ve all been there.
There is nothing quite like being sick to make you hate your life and miss your mommy.

Ok, before you jump down my throat, search for my coordinates on Google maps and hunt me down in my sleep, please hear me out.

First of all, I like Taylor Swift. I like that she’s sweet and wholesome, I like that she writes her own music, I like that they play her music all the time on the radio so I can turn it up loud when I’m driving and sing at the top of my lungs. I think she’s got awesome hair and love that she doesn’t let her 5′11 frame bother her.

I really do like her.

But all that being said, I also think the Taylor-mania is getting a little out of control. When she beat out Beyonce at the now infamous VMAs this past September, I agreed with what Kanye said. (And that made me rather unpopular, to say the least.) Sure, Taylor’s song was catchy and the video was cute, but it was not better than Beyonce’s jaw-dropping choreography for “All The Single Ladies.” The lyrics weren’t anything new or brilliant, the tune wasn’t anything we hadn’t heard before (assuming anyone ever listened to country music before…) and while the song was good, it was by no means the best.

And it was at that moment – when Kanye acted a fool – that people started looking at Taylor in a new way, putting her up on some pedestal that she never really deserved to be on.

Just last week Taylor beat out Martina McBride and Reba McEntire to take home the award for Entertainer of the Year at the CMAs. Then at last night’s AMAs, she took home 5 awards, even beating out Lady Gaga, KOL an MICHAEL FREAKING JACKSON for Artist of the Year.

Now, I get the love for T-Swift, but really?
Better than Michael?

This is a little much.

Taylor Swift has done a lot to bring country to the forefront of the music scene and she knows how to write a good sing-along jam (I can’t help but belt out some Love Story at the bar), but she is not the artist everyone is touting her to be. Her voice isn’t strong like Celine, she doesn’t dance like Beyonce and she’s not really pushing any envelopes like Gaga.

So what is all the fuss about? What is it about Taylor that is so effing great?!

I’m sorry, but she’s is just another run of the mill sugar coated pop star with a great PR team around her making us all believe she’s something that she’s not. And when she looks at those 10 new statues she’s taken home in the past 3 months alone, she better be giving thanks to the one and only Kanye West.

Homeboy handed her career to her on a Hennessy-soaked silver platter.

I’ll be honest: sometimes it’s hard to find stuff to write about from The Hills. Something new, at least. And last night’s episodes was one of the most difficult yet, due to the fact that every conversation had was just a recap of the one in the scene before it.

Take Kristin and Brody, for example. She tells him that Jayde texted her and wants to meet up. Then the next scene is Brody shooting pool and telling Frankie and that other hottie that Jayde texted Kristin and wants to meet up.

MTV expects me to work with that kind of crap?

Anyways, since there wasn’t really much to cover last night I decided to break the episode down into a fun little list. So here 10 notes/thoughts/things from last night’s episode of The Hills.

1. Heidi tells her therapist, “I think [Spencer] wants kids and he doesn’t know it yet,” then reveals her plan to trick him into being a dad. Which might be the scariest thing of all time. I don’t think Spencer wants kids. I don’t think Spencer can handle kids. And I know for sure society can’t handle a mini Speidi. Please stay on your birth control, Heidi. Please

2. Jayde should be in Twilight. Or Lord of the Rings. I’m sure the girl can’t act, but at least that black hair/pasty skin combo would fit in somewhere.

3. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I never understand why all these people meet up at bars and restaurants to have their fights. When Kristin and Jayde met up to pull each other’s hair and call each other names, Kristin ordered a perfectly delicious Gray Goose and soda but called Jayde a “huge bitch” and stormed about before it even arrived. What a waste of good vodka!

4. And now Jayde has to fork over the $12 for that drink? You know that girl is gonna freak out and punch Kristin next time she sees her for sticking her with the bill.

5. Then Kristin gets all dolled up the next night to meet up with Brody and make him want her lady goods – again, over a meal – and what happens? He tells her he’s getting back with dumb Jayde. (Dumb might actually be an understatement.) So now Kristin has to sit there, pretend she’s happy for him and finish her meal. Couldn’t this conversation have been had on the phone so she could hang up, cry, then raid her fridge?

6. Uh, hello Jersey Shore commercial!! I can’t possibly be the only one counting down the minutes until that sh*tshow kicks off on December 3^rd. Unlike this trainwreck, those Jersey Shore kids look 100% real. Trust me; those guys really do spend 25 minutes getting their hair ready. This is like my favorite True Life episode of all time on steroids. OMG I’M GIDDY!

7. If there were an IQ minimum for being on this show, I think Lo Bosworth would be doing a solo act.

8. Speaking of morons, where has Stephanie Pratt been? And Holly? Are they rehabbing it up together?

9. When Kristin and Brody go on their non-date, she tells him she’s “sick of being in the middle of all this.” “This,” of course, is a reference to the Jayde/Brody drama and the Audrina/Justin Bobby drama. Anyone else think maybe it’s time she stopped dating in the inner circle (Read: the paid cast) and maybe met someone who wasn’t sorta attached to someone else? Maybe? Possibly? Anyone?

10. Brody taught me a very important lesson last night: love makes you do stupid things. Or stupid people. With really grating voices. Who drag out the vowels in every single word. And wear Playboy bunny necklaces out to the bar. I agree with Kristin – he can do a lot better. Like me.

Just sayin’.

When I broke up with my last boyfriend I was ecstatic to have my personal time back. It had been a long time since I’d had my own routine and I couldn’t wait to do what I wanted to do, when I wanted to do it. I had grand plans of daily visits to the gym, cooking my weird healthy meals and eating them on the couch while watching marathons of Say Yes To The Dress.

I gained ten pounds during that relationship and while he didn’t care – he loved seeing me in the buff despite the extra junk in my trunk – I was ready to take back the control of my life, shed the extra weight, and hit the single scene with my svelte new frame.

Only the reality was so, so different.

Not only is the single scene rather sad and over-saturated with douche bags, but being single is actually making me fatter!

There is something to be said about having someone around, and not just for the comfort and companionship that comes with a boyfriend. Passing the time with someone else keeps your mind occupied so you’re talking and cuddling and giggling instead of mentally surveying what’s in your fridge. And, not that I care about eating in front of a boy (trust me – I ate a burger and fries in front of some models once), but having anyone around forces me to check myself before I start grazing through the cupboards and housing anything I can get my hands on. Now that I’m alone I’m to my own devices, and apparently those devices involve dipping everything into peanut butter, whether I’m hungry or not.

And forget the gym. Since I don’t have anyone to look good for, I often give in to that fat little devil sitting on my shoulder and trade in Spinning time for catching-up-on-my-DVR time. I keep telling myself I’ll go tomorrow; I have so much free time, why wouldn’t I go? But then I don’t go. I put on sweats, think of things to melt cheese on and retire to the couch for the rest of the night.

The worst culprit, though, is the emotional eating that comes with dating. There is rarely an emotional roller coaster when you’re in a serious relationship. You know how he feels about you, so you’re comfortable and happy. But when you’re single, the emotional ups and downs come daily. You like someone who doesn’t like you back, you see all your friends who are blissfully happy with their own boyfriends, you spend long nights alone and you convince yourself you’re going to be single forever…

And what does that all lead to? Comfort in the form of something creamy, cold and served in a gallon tub. Which you keep eating because there is no one around to stop you. And which you don’t work off because you’re too lazy to get to the gym.

Sigh. I’m stuck in a single rut and I can’t get out. Probably because I’ve gotten too fat to fit through the door. I need motivation. I need self control. I need a padlock on my refrigerator.

I need a… boyfriend?

Lace tights can break up the monotony of a solid-colored outfit and add a feminine touch to your look. They look chic with dresses, shorts, skirts, and boots. Here are three things to keep in mind when styling lace tights:

1. Mix delicate lace tights with tougher fabrics like tweed and menswear-inspired pieces.

2. Wear skirts, dresses and shorts with shorter hems – long pieces will make an outfit too old lady-like.

3. Pair lace tights with over-the-knee boots so just a little of the pattern peeks out.

[For more fashion and beauty fabulosity, visit StyleBakery.com.]

"This worries me...."

Well, it took an entire season but after going home with the top 3 designers – Meana Irina, Giggles Hannah and Hometown Althea –  I think I’m finally invested in Project Runway. Though that might have nothing to do with what the girls are actually working on and more to do with watching Tim Gunn first in a flowery apron and then trying to work that old elevator in Althea’s building. Seriously, seeing the fear in his eyes as he stepped into that death-trap really made all the time I invested in this season worth it.

I mean, really, who says, “Gads!”?

Those Lifetime people really shoveled a lot of sh*t into last night’s one-hour episode. First Tim goes home to check in on the contestants, then the contestants come to New York, then they get feedback from Tim AND Nina AND Michael AND Heidi, then they do a model casting, then they get assigned a 13^th look and then Carol Hannah gets stuck with Christopher. Oh, and she’s barfy.

Whew. I get tired just thinking about it all. But I’m also super excited by everyone’s collections – yes, even Irina. But that might only be because I think her dog is super cute and I’m like a puddle of goo in the face of a little white fluff ball. Although I do think her whole t-shirt-under-something-chic idea rocks (even if I did do a fist-pump of joy when Tim made her re-do them all). What can I say? The girl’s got just as much talent as ‘tude. And that’s a lot.

Althea’s collection is a little different than I expected of her (did anyone expect her to go home and watch a lot of Sci-fi??), but I still sorta dig it. And I don’t care what Tim thinks about that sequined jacket-y thing; Althea made that a year ago and sequins are all the rage now. Either she can see into the future or homegirl is a fashion genius.

And then there’s Carol Hannah, whose collection -despite the fact that I find the designer herself highly annoying – might be my favorite. When she said she was inspired by Duke University I was expecting to see something more along the lines of beer pong and comfy sweats for class. But she obviously sees a college campus differently than I do because she’s making some really beautiful and elegant gowns.

Honestly, I’m not normally a tutu girl (something about being the fat girl in dance class scarred me for life), but I would kill to wear that giant tutu-gone-runway to something. Anything. New Year’s?

I have no idea how things are gonna go down next week. Everyone seem to have one stiletto in the weeds right now (except for Carol Hannah who is elbow deep in there), so who will be able to pull it out on the runway? (Note: am I the only one who gets gross mental images when using the term “pull it out”? Yes? OK….) I can finally say I’m excited to find out. My money’s on Althea.

What do you think?

Which bitch wants him more?

The main reason any of us watch The Hills is because the lives of all those pretty people in L.A. are more exciting and dramatic than our own. They go out to fabulous clubs, they eat at the best restaurants, they drive the nicest cars and they hang out with the prettiest people.

And they get into bitch brawls at the bar.

But, to be honest, the big fight between Jayde and Kristin last night at The Playhouse was nothing compared to the ones I’ve seen in real life. Not to mention, I’m getting quite sick of The Playhouse. Why is that the only bar they’re going to? What happened to Le Deux? H-Wood? That sh*thole Stacie used to work in?

Anyways, I understand fighting over Brody Jenner – he’s a fine piece of man-meat – but fight like you mean it, women. Throw some punches! Pull some hair! Break a bottle over someone’s head! (Sorry, I’ve just always wanted to see that in real life.) Do something instead of using words that you know MTV is gonna have to bleep out.

We all know that Jayde knows how to get in a real bar brawl; she did it just last month with Joe Francis. Why couldn’t she bring some of that heat last night? Seriously, what does a girl have to do to get some real drama around here? You better step up your game, Kristin Cavallari and co., or I’m gonna have to knock you out of my rotation to make room on my DVR for The Ruins. At least I’ll see some blood. Lord knows I’d rather see that than Brody’s mom’s thong hanging out of her jeans. (Didn’t notice it? Lucky…)

But it’s all OK. Despite the lack of chick fighting (and an unfortunate view of old-woman booty), there were two very key moments that made last night’s episode of The Hills worth watching:

1. Spencer almost gets a vasectomy or, as he calls it, “So you do go punch into the nuts.” It’s always nice to see a mature adult discuss a serious procedure like this with his doctor. Just the thought of someone taking away Spencer’s abilities to reproduce made me giddy. If that doctor could have convinced Spencer to go through with the procedure he would have won a Nobel Prize, for sure. Unfortch, comparing Spence’s penis parts to types of pasta sent ol’ flesh-beard over the edge and he ran out of there like a little biatch.

2. Audrina meets up with Justin Bobby to tell him that she still…um…you know….gosh, why is this so hard?….she likes him. And what does JB do? What he always does, of course; he turns it around and makes Audrina feel like she did this to him.

“When you pushed me away you pushed me into someone else.”

Uggggh, Justin Bobby. UGH! But that’s not even my biggest issue. No. JB has always been a giant dickhead to Audrina – who is really surprised by that anymore? The real problem here is that he wore a leather jacket without a shirt under it. WHO DOES THAT? Can you imagine what that smells like if he’s sweating in there? OMG, just the thought is bringing my Kashi Go Lean Crunch back up.

If you’ve ever wondered what an acid trip was like, Lady Gaga’s latest music video seems like a pretty close match. Seriously, this thing is freaking me out. It’s like Girl Talk mashed up a Gaga song and a drug-fueled mini-porn… then threw in a little couture fashion product placement (Burberry jacket, Alexander McQueen shoes, Chanel sunglasses…) for a little extra cash on the side.

I’m really not sure what’s going on here, but I do know that the person behind this 5 minutes of freakiness is on something illegal. And it’s really, really good ish.

I mean, no sane and sober person could come up with a bear-skin dress…or Gaga shooting a corpse with her left breast. God, those are words I never thought I’d string together in a single sentence.

Just watch and you’ll understand the madness. Well, not the madness but at least you’ll see what I’m talkin’ about.

"Ok, so I'll do all the work and you'll take all the credit. Sound good?"

Your midterm is assigned and not only is it a group project, but you can’t even choose who you’ll work with. Your T.A. reads off your group of four then gives you the last half of the class to discuss your ideas. You pull your desks together in a mini circle and start the introductions.

It only takes you five minutes to realize that this group is not going to work.  Between the kid who’s only showed up to class twice and the girl who speaks maybe three words of English, it’s going to be a disaster.

With only two weeks to complete both a four-page paper and a 5-minute presentation, you need to get to work quickly. The group spends ten minutes coming up with a topic and the next twenty trying to find a time to meet that works for all of you. Unsuccessfully. One kid holds an on-campus job at the library, one girl is heading out of town for the weekend and you all have 3 other midterms that you need to somehow complete.

The rest of the class starts packing up and – seeing a giant D in your near future – you decide to take charge.

“Ok, we’re going to break up the work. We’ll each take a portion of the paper and we’ll put it together at the end. Then we’ll use class time next week to write up our presentation. Good?”

The group agrees – most likely because they don’t want to spend another second in this classroom. You get everyone’s email address, divvy up the sections of the essay and go on your way.

You do your research and whip up your part of the essay the night before the next class. Only when you show up you learn you’re the only one with anything done. The boy doesn’t even bother to come, one girl was too busy to get her part done and the girl with the language barrier? You’re not even sure she understood the assignment.

You freak out. You only have a week left and half of today’s class to get the project done. While the T.A. drones on about that week’s reading assignment you zone out, thinking about your grade. “WTF? How is it fair that my grade depends on the other people in this group? I’m gonna have to do all the work myself. And then they’ll get my A? Ugh. But what else would I do? Let them ruin my GPA? I’m not gonna get a bad grade in a class this easy.”

Finally, she stops talking and you’re given the rest of the class to work with your group. Unable to count on anyone to get anything done out of class, you decide to use the time to write a script for the presentation. You’ll just do the paper on your own later. Do you want to? No. Do you have the time? Barely.

Do you trust these idiots to do anything worthy of your academic standards? Yeah right.

Thirty minutes is not nearly enough time to finish your presentation so you try once again to find a time to meet out of class. And, again, it’s a big fat fail. So, again, you offer to collect everything via email and send out a final document before the big presentation next week.

You spend your entire weekend writing the paper, sending passive-aggressive emails to the group to get their stuff to you, taking the crap they wrote and turning it into something worthy of a passing grade and complaining to your roommates. Then you put it all into a Power Point with some fun clip art (Clip Art makes everything look better) and beg everyone to meet you 10 minutes before class to go over the plan.

When everyone finally shows up – even MIA Boy – you explain everyone’s parts to them. You run through it once then, of course, get called on first to present. You turn in your paper to the T.A., take your place with your group and pray everyone in your group knows how to read aloud.

The presentation goes well (obviously – you did the entire thing) and a week later you learn your group has earned an A. All four of you.

Yeah, we’ve all been there.
Why anyone is still assigning group projects in college is beyond us too.

Is bitchiness contagious, cuz Jordana definitely caught it.

So it’s finally time for Fashion Week. Fashion Week that happened a year ago, but a big moment for those designers who made it through, nonetheless. It’s been a long journey. 12 challenges and ots of lost talent along the way (we’re talking mostly to you, Ra’Mon!). But after last night’s episode, I can honestly say that those judges finally did some good…er…judging.

So let’s give a big thanks to Cindy Crawford. You go, girl. And, DAMN, you look good.

Last night’s challenge was to find some inspiration at L.A.’s Getty Center. I’m not quite sure what that place was or what the purpose of it is, but the mayor was quite proud of it so I went along for the ride. Each designer could choose anything in there to inspire a look and then go to it.

I’m not sure what happened along the way, but it seems that Christopher must have taken a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at a David’s Bridal booth at the Renaissance Fair. The “dress” he put together was heavy, ugly and pretty infuriating if you ask me. And you’re reading this post, so you definitely asked.

"Why'd I get stuck with the weird guy?"

As Chris was constructing this monstrosity, he confessed: “I know my place…I’m the wacky, weird guy.”

No, Christopher, you’re the mentally and stylistically challenged guy who somehow snuck by this far and took a spot from someone who really deserved it. Hell, even Nicolas deserved to make it further than you and he made these. Your sense of style is non-existent, and you’re far too literal with your designing. Really? You drew green flowers on your dress to represent the moss? Welcome to 4th grade, Chris.

And then there’s Jordana. Between her emotional ups and downs (one minute she’s Meana Irina’s BBFF [bitchy BFF] and the next she’s sobbing from some spiritual moment with a painting) she finds her inspiration in a Monet. Or was it a vagina? Because from here it looks a lot like a vagina. A big vagina dress.

"It's like a pencil in a hallway...."

Don’t tell you don’t see it. I saw it the moment that girl came strutting down the runway. And I think the judges saw it, too. Hence their decision. With Paris Hilton doing her thing at Fashion Week, there isn’t room for any more giant vaginas in Bryant Park.

Zing!

Anyways, let’s get to the good stuff. Well, the better stuff, at least. Everyone’s designs looked a hot mess this challenge, but it’s good to see the judges still made the right choice when it came to sending the top 3 to Fashion Week. Althea, Carol Hannah and Irina (even if she’s a giant bitch) have been consistent throughout the season. They all have a unique style and, being that I was betting on Althea from the beginning, I can’t wait to see what these girls bring to the Big Apple.

Well, besides Irina’s ‘tude, Carol Hannah’s nervous laugh and the nipples that inevitably show in all of Althea’s designs.

Wow, I’m actually excited to watch next week! Who ever thought that was possible?!