A condom can break, you can slip up and miss a pill, you can leave your NuvaRing out a few days longer than necessary.

All of those small failures can lead to one of the most stressful times in a woman’s life — the unplanned pregnancy scare. That sinking, gnawing feeling that your uterus may not be uninhabited. You start freaking out at every little symptom. Nauseated in the morning…Am I hungry or is this morning sickness? A weird twinge in your stomach…PMS cramps or pregnancy cramps? Fatigue hits early every day…is it sleep deprivation or  is your body exhausted from preparing a womb? It is an extremely stressful situation that generally leads to fear, panic, or complete and utter denial.

All of those emotions are valid and justifiable. I mean, pregnancy is for adults, settled, ready-to-bear-children women and clueless teenagers on MTV. It’s not for college-aged women whose biggest concerns should be getting to know and love herself, having fun with friends, succeeding in school, and successfully avoiding hangovers every weekend. Unfortunately, sex is one of the riskiest activities we engage in, and even if we do our best to be cautions, failures happen.

If you find yourself seriously worried that you are pregnant, do the following (and do not, I repeat DO NOT Google symptoms online, you’ll only panic more):

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But which home is home?

We’ve been following Charlsie, a 2010 grad, on her journey through the post-grad life, from the big move to the big job hunt to the major “Is this real life?!” moments. And now, with fall in full swing, she’s got something else weighing on her mind.

Whether we want to believe it or not, the holidays are approaching. I know, it feels like summer just started – even though it really just ended – but the reality is that temperatures are dropping, leaves are starting to change, and before we know it, it’ll be time for turkey, presents, and busy shopping malls. Like many people, I’m left with the question of where to spend the holidays at.

In college, it was so black and white. For the holidays, I made the seven hour drive home to my mom’s for Thanksgiving break and winter break. My dad isn’t a big fan of celebrating the holidays, so whether he spent the season with my sister and me or not – it didn’t matter to him either way. So, when the holidays started to come up in discussion with my family, I immediately figured I’d go home to Atlanta.

But I can’t help but feel like I’m leaving someone else behind, no matter what kind of holiday location choice I make. And since plane tickets nearly cost an arm and a legs these days, it makes things even more complicated. Really, it seems impossible to please everyone. Read More »

I’m not even five months out of college, and the word “adult” seems to have taken on an entirely new meaning. It appears that the idea of being an adult is boggling post-grads, such as myself, night and day – even over mundane things. Facebook status updates don’t lie, especially when recent grads are excited to update the world about their climb into adulthood:

“I just cooked dinner for myself, and I didn’t even wish it was dining hall food.”
“I’m paying my bills on time this month – like a real adult!”
“I’m turning into my mother now that I’m out of college.”
“How adult of me! I went to a job interview!”

I can’t lie; I’m guilty of putting this idea of being an adult on some kind of pedestal. In fact, if my vocabulary was monitored like songs played on iTunes, it definitely would have the phrase “how adult of me” or just the word “adult” on the top of the charts. Here I am, dabbling with my big toe (not even my whole foot) into whatever adulthood really is, and I’m making a big stink about it.

For example, when I wear heels to my internship (hello – it’s not even a job!), I check myself out in the elevator door reflection and think to myself “How fashionably adult of you.” Funny enough, when I take the heels off after a long red carpet outing, I make fun of my old-college self, “Oh look at you, switching into your trusty Rainbows – the ones that accompanied you to nearly every class senior year.”

And trust me; you don’t even want to hear my adult-o-meter going off when I do household things, especially cooking. Whenever I make dinner for myself, I toot my horn like I just climbed the Mt. Everest of Italian cooking. In fact, I get so worked up over being this LSAT student by day, intern by choice, and wannabe chef by night, I spend hours searching for new recipes and I make out grocery lists ahead of time, so I can continue to evolve into a ‘real’ adult in the kitchen. Read More »

There comes a tipping point where you have to say “enough is enough,” and you either need to fix what is driving you to the edge or take a step back to realize what needs to be fixed. My tipping point just arrived and resulted in me saying: “I quit!”

So, you know those people I was playing nanny for? Besides the peach cobbler incident, things have been okay. In fact, the family hired me on as their accountant/bookkeeper – so I have been doing tax forms and working with thousands and thousands of receipts for the last few weeks. However, things started going south pretty fast once I started playing the role of babysitter and bookkeeper!

There were tons of demands. It was like once they had me around all the time, they would do anything to keep me there. For example, I would give the family my schedule and they would be mad because I had LSAT class or a few hours out of the day blocked off to study – things they knew when they hired me from the start. They started wanting me to nanny and do bookkeeping work at the same time – but they only wanted to pay me for bookkeeping, despite me watching their young children. Then it turned into almost full-time hours, when I only want to work part-time. And, the worst part was when the pay became sporadic. As I write this, I still need to be paid for nearly a $100 worth of work. Do I think I’ll see the money? No, but at least I’ll have my sanity back. Read More »

I don't know what to do!

Looking back, college didn’t require a lot of serious decision making – even though I thought it did. For the most part, I made decisions about frivolous things such as: Should I wear pajamas to class today? Should I stick to rum and Coke or go for the Jager bombs? Should I go out tonight or should I spend time working on that eleven-page term paper? I know at times these choices sure stressed me out, but looking back, they really didn’t matter the way post-grad decisions seem to.

A lot of difficult decisions have come my way recently. There was me deciding where to live. Atlanta, Georgia or Southern California? It was not an easy choice to make, and many factors played into my choice to move to California. Then there was the decision of what to spend my time doing. Should I reapply to graduate schools for next year or pursue my other dream of becoming a lawyer? These questions required a lot of long-term thinking, and I’m glad that I had the time and the options to choose from. However, now that life is moving full speed ahead – more life-decisions are coming my way and many of them are giving me a day to decide, instead of a month or two.

So, you know how I was running my mouth last week about no jobs being available and how awful it is trying to find something? Well, that very same day, I received a call back from a marketing firm wanting to hire me for an entry level position. A real adult job. One with benefits and a respectable first year salary. One that requires business professional attire from 8:30am to 5:30pm. A marketing firm with connections to major Fortune 500 companies.

Sounds great, right? Well, they could only take me on as a full-time worker Monday-Friday, with a lot of events that I would be required to attend on the weekends. My initial reaction was whether or not I could balance my LSAT prep course and study time in the midst of having a blossoming career path. Could I do both? Maybe, but I’m not someone that does things half-assed, so a balancing act possibly could jeopardize my work experience and hurt my practice for the LSAT. Read More »

Although reviewed as “one of this year’s most inviting summer novels” by the New York Times, J. Courtney Sullivan’s first novel Commencement is the perfect back-to-school dorm room read to carry any undergraduate woman through the first days of their fall term. Whether you are a first year or a senior, Sullivan’s story about friendship, feminism, and the climb towards maturity will find its way into your heart.

A narrative about four friends at Smith College, an all women’s college in Massachusetts (famous alumnae include Gloria Steinem, Julia Child, Sylvia Plath, Betty Friedan…just to name a few), Sullivan captures the essence of what it means to make friends in the richest sense of the word, while chronicling life on campus and post-graduation adulthood.

Each character is truly distinct, making the novel easy to identify with. Think the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, except more adult. Sally, Celia, Bree, and April are four very different women, but their individuality weaves together beautifully, showing that sisterhood looks past Sally’s love for Lily Pulitzer, Celia’s conservative-yet-wild side, Bree’s Southern Belle charm, and April’s radical feminism to form a life-long bond, even if the girls couldn’t be more uncommon from each other.

Sullivan, alumnae of Smith herself, paints the all women’s atmosphere just as it should be, a unique and tradition-filled roller coaster of emotions. Giving an accurate glimpse of what it means to be a young woman at a college without men, Sullivan does not degrade Smith or the single-sex setting, but instead lifts it up and showcases it in a light that most do not see when they hear “all women.” Read More »

It has been a week of reminiscing for me. It seemed as though everywhere I looked there was something that reminded me of the happier days of my childhood.

- Reruns of Home Improvement took me back to the days when it was the only show my mom would let me stay up to watch because of my borderline unhealthy crush on JTT.
- My mom sent me some old family photos, including one of me donning a skort. When it was cool.
- And my roommate reminding me of the days when you had to hear that obnoxious dial-up tone just to get some awesome IM chat time on AOL.

Ahhh…the good ol’ days.

Now are the days of so-called “adulthood,” when mom no longer is in charge of selecting and purchasing your wardrobe (the purchasing part I didn’t mind so much…) and you are now responsible for updating your wardrobe with the latest trends every season by yourself.  The internet is now available everywhere (well, mostly) without that obnoxious dial-up tone, so that’s cool, but unless you are lucky enough win one, you have to actually purchase your own computer? What the eff?

And what’s this I hear about books being old news?

And don’t even get me started on the guy front. Who woulda thunk we’d actually be turning to guys for love advice? I mean, what happened to the days of sleepovers and gushing over some stupid note your crush passed you? Now, we are bombarded with where to meet guys, how to meet guys, wah wah wah. Between the dating scene and what alcoholic beverage I should down first, being grown up is exhausting!

Ugh. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m totes missing the days of math homework and skorts.

It seems like just yesterday that I was anxiously twirling around in pink tights and a princess crown through some dirty frat house with my best friend Fiona dancing to “Everybody Dance Now,” eating chocolate mousse cake, and throwing my Steve Maddens at the boy who I didn’t know at the time would soon become my boyfriend, all in the name of my 20th birthday.

And now, a year has nearly passed, and I am about to turn the big 2-1. It is the day I can not only legally buy alcohol, but the day that all college students look forward to as their last passage into adulthood on campus (at least before senior year). It is the day that I can no longer get sent to student conduct council for underage drinking. The day I can walk up to the bar and order a mojito, legally. I no longer will have to worry about being carded when trying to order a drink somewhere. The day that I turn into a real adult – whatever that means – as decided by the world.

But really, how do I spend this occasion?

In my dream world, I would hire Girl Talk to do live mash-ups of Elton John, Britney Spears, and Guns N Roses while I dance alongside my best friends in dresses that aren’t just from H&M and Forever 21 in some sparkly New York City bar where we throw back pink cocktails in between cupcakes. But I don’t live in a dream world. In fact, I live in Roanoke, Virginia – which is as far from my dream world as I can get for my birthday, especially since there isn’t even a Forever21 of H&M for 60+ miles.

Although the reality of my 21st birthday may not sparkle in a New York City kinda way (however, my nails probably will in a cheap-nailpolish-glittery-concoction type of way), I am not going to let that stop me from having one of the best nights of my college experience. The question of how to do it, though – and not just do it, but do it well – plagues me. Read More »

I told my mother the other day that I felt like I was getting old and she laughed at me. She said she didn’t want to hear sh*t about getting old until I went through menopause. Fair enough.

But that doesn’t detract from the fact that I feel thirty and all of its dastardly implications creeping up behind me, breathing warm and horrifying down my neck. Here are some signs that I’m getting old; my youth and lack of responsibility fading farther and farther into the distance. Keep in mind that there is a distinction between getting old and becoming more mature, as one can see in the way I respond to my family in #8. Read More »

While I was growing up, I had a hell of a lot of fun. My very early years were spent going to the local sports complex with my dad and my little brother, playing backyard baseball/soccer/tag with a gaggle of kids from the neighborhood, having fashion shows with gear from my massive dress-up box for my mom. Then, as I got older, my friends and I started throwing boy-girl parties involving air hockey tournaments and games of spin the bottle, and would have sleepovers where we dyed our hair and cleaned the house on Saturday afternoons so my mom would give us movie money.

In my early teen years I’d hang out at the skatepark and take trips out of town with as many people as we could pack in a van to watch bands play; later, at the end of my high school career, weeknights were spent driving around, listening to jams and making pointless stops at WalMart, and weekends were spent partaking in outlandish late-night drinking shenanigans accompanied by board games.

Then I went to college. And while some of my best friends did attend the same school as me, and while I did meet a handful of fantastic new people, for the most part, I was pretty miserable. I went from a small town where I had known everyone for 5+ years to a giant school filled with rich kids from suburbia who wouldn’t know real fun if it kicked them in the teeth. Read More »