“Birds of the feather flock together” is a phrase my mother has repeated to me since I was a child. I used to hate her for this phrase. I used to accuse her of being judgmental and mean-spirited for judging my friends by the company that they kept. But now…well…now the story is a little bit different. As I have grown up on my own - outside of the house and outside of my mother’s phrases - I have begun to realize just how right she was.

More often than not these days, I find myself repeating that phrase. It’s not that I assume that a person is just like their negative friends, but I do wonder: why surround yourself with negativity? So many times, I hear people justifying their own friends. They’ll explain that their friend is ‘obnoxious’ or ‘self-centered’. Sure, we all have our negative qualities, but when a person’s negative qualities stand out against everything else…why would you want to be around that person?

Maybe I’m just biased because I have the best friends in the world. I throw parties often and I always pride myself in the fact that all of my circles of friends mingle together flawlessly each time. My friends always leave my parties raving about how awesome the people they met at my party are. I guess since I’m in NYC now, I can be picky. There are enough people in NYC to allow for me to have well-balanced, good-hearted friends across the board.

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My name is K, and I was in a sorority.

That is, I’m an alum. I still wear my butt-shorts to sleep at night and my Greek Week t-shirts to the gym. I have sorority jewelry, and my best friends are people I pledged with. I may or may not have my affiliation listed on my resume. And I am not ashamed.

What does irk the hell out of me, though, are the characters who, post-college, find it appropriate to judge me and still make the same assumptions that were made in college. Just a heads up, kids, but just like no one cares if you were cool in high school, no one could care any less whether you were cool in college. And by hating on me for being Greek, you’re definitely no cooler than the next a**hole.

Sure, I partied, but so did a large percentage of the independents (oh that’s right, there’s a label for them, too). Shocker, sorority girls aren’t always the drunk mess you expect them to be.

So let’s clarify a few things, shall we?

#1. No, I did not buy my friends. Surprise! I actually have other friends who aren’t Greek. Who cares where or how you meet people if they’re quality? I lucked out; my house was full of girls I clicked with, many of whom will probably be in my wedding. I could just as easily say you bought all your college friends because you paid tuition to attend a university with thousands of other people, right? You’re electing to join an institution where you will happen into people…. kind of makes you a hypocrite to call me out. I’m not picking people to hang out with based on whether or not they were in a frat or sorority in college, and if you are, you’re living a sad, sad life. Read More »

Last time, I told you about my oh-so-lovely hallmates, who chose to cover my board with hateful words. When misogynistic and sexist words come into it, I’ve officially stopped being willing to roll over. I emailed the floor’s RCA, who passed me on to the dean of student life. I spoke with the dean and ultimately an email and letter was circulated indicating such behavior was not to be tolerated. After that, the words disappeared and the images stopped showing up — for a while, and I thought that would be the end of it. But the hallmates from hell kept finding more ways to be the rudest human beings I’ve ever crossed paths with.

One night at four a.m. the whole group came banging back from a wild night at one of the eating clubs. One girl and one guy had gotten into some sort of argument, and they decided to have it out — right in front of my door. For an hour I heard screaming of “YOU ARE A BAD PERSON! A BAD PERSON!” And the barked reply, “JUST FORGET IT AND GO TO BED!” immediately followed by the “YOU ARE A BAD PERSON!” again. My boyfriend emailed the rca to complain. Later that week, I was returning from a late shower, only wearing a towel, and found the whole group of freshmen clustered around my door, talking loudly. When I said “excuse me,” they ignored me. When I started pushing at people, they still ignored me. I had to shout at the top of my lungs and push at the same time, clutching my towel, just to get them to move. I still don’t know if they were purposefully being difficult, or just were oblivious, but it made me feel oddly threatened and vulnerable, as if they were determined not to recognize me as a human being. Read More »

Recently, I read an article that centered on a Harvard professor’s anger after a recent grad whom he taught (Jared Kushner, the son of realllly powerful real estate developer) went out and bought the New York Observer — and then slashed the paychecks of the Observer’s freelancers, one of whom was the Harvard professor himself. The professor was pissed that Kushner, who most likely gave him attitude in the classroom, had the money and the audacity to do something that monumental, while the professor was making around $15,500 a year.

“When intellectuals act as clerks and students act as clients, how do college teachers differ from corporate accountants?” the professor angrily writes. “…the sedulous banality of the rich degrades teaching into a service-class preoccupation whose chief duty is preparing clients for monied careers.”

Big words (I mean, he teaches at Harvard. I think it’s a prerequisite), but what the guy is basically saying that rich students make him feel like he’s not doing anything except helping them learn how to grow up and screw the little guys. Rich kids make this guy feel like he’s nothing more than a stepping stone toward big conglomerate world domination.

He’s sort of got a point, but it’s a moot one, because…I mean…duh.

A lot of insanely rich kids grow up believing most of the human race is there to serve them. I attended undergrad at a private liberal arts college where Gucci purses and Prada shoes were perfectly in place at 8:30 in the morning, and you better believe there were some kids with major attitude in class. A degree was something they simply had to tolerate before Daddy or Mommy or Uncle Dearest would set them up in some prime position at whatever giant company their family owned. Read More »

This could be the fiercest Thursday since the morning after Christian Siriano took the top honor on the last season of Project Runway. Yes, my friends, today is the day that the Hot Tranny Mess of a designer launches his line on Bluefly.com!

I have been waiting a long time for this day, but after looking at his designs I realize that I am not quite sure what I was waiting for. The stuff is beautiful, don’t get me wrong; the detailing is intricate and interesting, the line is extremely diverse considering the lack of color and it all looks incredibly well made. It’s just that, well, it’s not like I can fit into that sh*t. You know, cuz I have more than 2% body fat.

Oh, and I don’t have an extra $10,000 lying around to spend on skirts and jackets.

But, even if Posh Spice is the only person who can afford/fit into this line, Little Siriano sure didn’t dissapoint. This kid has SERIOUS talent and I can’t wait for him to start designing for Target (do it, Christian. DO IT!).

Judge for yourself below: Read More »

Three days ago, I returned from the first ever Rothbury Festival in Rothbury, Michigan – a 5-day musical event featuring an eclectic range of music, from Dave Matthews to Disco Biscuits to Snoop Dogg. I’m exhausted, my feet are calloused & my cheeks are sunburnt (& freckly!), and maybe it was just all the booze, greenery & glow sticks, but my little spirit is renewed.

After spending a night chillaxin’ in Sherwood Forrest, letting my fatigued body sink into a colorful hammock for two and talk for hours with one of my new best friends over cocktails in combustible corn cups, I knew it was time for a change. A huge, life-changing, effortful change. Something about spending the weekend surrounded by happy, empowering, inspirational people (albeit a little dirty & drugged-up) was a huge, magical, sparkly slap in the face that it’s time for me to conquer, one-by-one, all the things I want to in life.

So, without further adieu, here is my list of sweet stuff I wanna learn.

1. How to give a kick-a** massage. I am OBSESSED with massages. I try to con all my boyfriends, friends, (even boy friends!) to give me little shoulder, back or foot massages (perfect after a long day at work…or shopping). However, I am just as inclined to return the favor because I know how ridiculously nice (and/or orgasm-inducing) a massage can be.

2. How to make sweet jewelry. I used to be the baddest b*tch on the block because I could make friendship bracelets with any color of the rainbow out of any type of string. Unfortunately, I haven’t practiced my art for about, oh, 10 years & I think it’s time for me to get back in the game. But, I sure will have a lot of catching up to do. Read More »

To me, (to most people I think..) meeting the parents is a big deal. If I actually like someone enough, if I actually foresee a guy being in my life longer than a few dates, then maybe at some point I will bring him to my parent’s house and subject him to my family.

I think giving your significant other a heads-up of things to avoid before the grand introduction is the right thing to do. (I.E. wearing that OSU Beavers t-shirt is a bad call, and under NO circumstances ask my dad about his TV.) And I would like to assume this philosophy is a common ideal - the whole wait until you are sure someone is decent and going to be around for a while before you dive into “the family introduction”, and give them a short prep-course before the big event.

But, if I were to assume that I would be wrong.

This weekend I was completely blindsided by an impromptu Meet the Parents. And by impromptu I mean, my current gent and I were (unbeknownst to me) 15 minutes away from from his parents house and he suggested we stop in to “pick something up.”

Meet the parents?? This was a bold strategy considering we have only been dating a few weeks, and as I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and then looked down at my outfit, my nervous panic of the potentially “big step” in a relationship was dwarfed by the panic over my appearance. This was not an appropriate first-impression-look I had going on.

I am a person who takes first impressions very seriously. Ideally, when meeting the parents I like to have ample time to prepare; actually wash and style my hair, put on some make-up (not too much of course), and pick out a respectable outfit (maybe a nice cardigan…). Basically I like to make sure parents don’t look at me in horror and wonder if their son needs an eye exam, which I am sure is the exact feeling my new guy’s parents had after one look at me. Read More »