My mom tells me that my life is a bit too connected to TV. And maybe she’s right. I get really stressed out when my DVR is over 45% full, I won’t go anywhere on a Saturday morning until I’ve watched at least 2 episodes of Beverly Hills 90210 on Soap Net and I get really cranky when my favorite shows go on hiatus (I’m looking at you, Glee!).

My biggest fear in life (besides falling down the stairs in a lecture hall) is finding out the person I love is a lying, cheating bastard. I truly believe there is nothing worse than cheating. I mean, what’s the point? If you wanna get it in with someone else, why not just grow some balls, dump me and live happily ever after (with 3 STIs….) with that skank?

After seeing previews showing Snooki doing cartwheels and JWoww and Roger having ‘the talk’, I can’t even tell you how excited I was for last night’s season finale of Jersey Shore. I planned my whole night around it. I skipped yoga to be home to watch it. Hell, I skipped $1 beer night! And what did I get in return?

Sigh. The text message. So few letters, so many hours spent analyzing it. And throw in some punctuation? My god, you might as well have me solve a trig equation. Ambiguous text messages leave so many of us ladies staring blankly at our cell phone screens, a look of completely confusion on our faces (and not always due to auto correct).

You wake up for class and something is different. It takes you a moment before you realize that – OH MY GOD! – there is sunlight coming into your room! It’s not dark or dreary out!

The only way to sum up last night’s episode (or the whole season, really) of Jersey Shore is by trying to figure out who was the biggest bitch of the night. It’s gonna be a toughie, but let’s try.

I feel bad laughing, I really do, but I just can’t help it. Or stop watching it over and over and over again.

A few summers ago I confided in my brother that I wanted to get a tattoo. “That’s really permanent,” he told me. “How would you feel if you got the Backstreet Boys tattooed on your ankle when you were obsessed with them in middle school?”

Erectile dysfunction (also not so lovingly known to as Whiskey D*ck) is as prevalent as Uggs, overpriced textbooks and porch couches. It’s something that all college women will encounter at one point or another in their lives.

You’ve got a big day planned: 7am bloody marys, 9am flip cup tourny, a burrito break, then lots and lots of green beer. 18 hours of boozing? Psssssh. It may sound like a lot, but you’ve been training for a day like this since you stepped foot on campus.