Beyonce and Jay-Z’s little nugget is going to be super spoiled, and we’re admittedly a bit jealous. Not only is this baby going to be extremely beautiful and talented, but it’s going to have everything. From really high tech toys to plush bedding, baby Bey-Z already has us envious. While I can only imagine what that nursery is going to look like, I can already guarantee it’s going to be way cooler than any room we’ve ever slept in.

Check out some things that we imagine will be graced by this child’s presence:

Are you between film projects? Still recovering from your last tour? Does your new NBC reality competition Fashion Star have yet to set a premiere date? If so, here’s how to make a quick buck as a celebrity: Get pregnant. Hide your pregnancy. And sell the announcement for half a million dollars.

Okay, we know it wasn’t strategically planned that way—we really do want to love you forever, Jessica—but it kinda seems like it.

It was obvious that Jessica Simpson was already pregnant with former NFL player/fiancé’s baby—public appearances and paparazzi photos with big sweaters and handbags cleverly held in front of her stomach gave off the hint that she had something to hide. But she wouldn’t confirm anything until she secured a weekly magazine deal of $500,000 to officially make the announcement.

So who’s the lucky tabloid that paid her asking price? OK! magazine, who published the cover headline “Yes I’m Having a Baby!” to accompany the incredibly insightful article.

Cashing in on the kid before birth? We know that pregnancy announcements to the public are just part of how Hollywood works, but we usually don’t (want to) hear about the price tag. It’s supposed to be all hidden behind the red curtain. Do we care how much Mariah Carey and Nick Cannon scored for their 20/20 interview with Barbara Walters and the twins last night? No, we just wanted to watch it while home on a Friday night. After the all-new episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.

Well, it’s not over: Jessica’s looking to sell the eventual baby photos—once the baby’s actually born (what, no sonogram deal up for grabs?). Seriously, that kid has already made more money before breathing than I have made to date!

Let’s face it: we all make stupid decisions. Like choosing a fifth over a review session, or bringing that guy home…who stole our iPod in the morning. That’s part of college life… and a big part of what makes it so memorable. But there are some choices that have longer lasting repercussions; things we do now that will haunt us later.

So here are the 11 things from your 20’s you will most definitely regret when you’re 40.

11. Risque Internet Photos: What’s the point of having technology if you can’t use it to send a naughty pre-shower photo to your BF? Nothing will turn him on quite like a naked photo popping up in his inbox while he’s brushing up on his Stats knowledge. You trust him, so what’s the worst that could happen? How about a break up? Or the “forward” button? No matter what you think, those photos are going to come back and bite you in the (naked-with-a-spot-of-cellulite) ass. Just show him the real thing and let him turn to his imagination (or internet porn) for a mid-class pick me up.

10. Trendy Tats: You totally love butterflies/stars/unicorns now, but I can bet money that you won’t want them plastered on the top of your foot or your lower back forever. No one wants to see a mom with a rose tattoo on her left shoulder, so think before you ink.

9. Choosing guys over your girls: You get caught up in your relationship sometimes and blow off the girls. Fine, we get it. But when sometimes turns into “What the hell ever happened to Mary?” there is a problem. Especially when Mr. Douche Bag finally breaks up with you and you come crawling back to the girls with a tub of Edy’s and a box of tissues and they aren’t there to wipe the snot from your cheek. Do you really want to spend the rest of your days holed up in a dirty apartment watching your man play Rock Band and chug Natty Light? Learn the balance, honey.

8. Getting married too young: I’ve seen it too many times – people graduate, freak out and hold onto whatever they can of their youth. And they get married.  And become super lame married people. It may be pure bliss now (and lots and lots of kitchen-ware), but just think about all the awesome stuff you will miss by being tied down in your twenties, all that freedom: to travel when you want, to take a job wherever you want, to sleep with whomever you want, to party as late as you want, to discover yourself, to sleep with whomever you want…. Plus, do you really want pictures of your friends doing keg stands in your wedding album? I thought not.

7. Smoking: Mmmm tobacco. It feels so good when it hits (and consequently blackens) your lungs. Especially after you’ve had a few Rum and Diets. And you look so cool doing it. But you know what doesn’t feel good? Chemo. And you know what doesn’t look cool? Your wrinkley face or your kids stealing the pack from your tobacco stained purse and trying it for the first time. When they are 6. This sh*t will kill you, so stop it. Right now! Seriously, put down that Marlboro Light, sister.

6. Not traveling enough: Trust me on this one – you will never have the time, money or freedom to travel like you do now.  Pretty soon you’ll be working late nights and counting down the minutes until the that will be chock full of grocery runs and Bed, Bath and Beyond trips. Try finding time in that busy schedule to jet-set to Europe and “find yourself.” Pack your bags and see the world now, before you’re too old to experiment with drugs in Amsterdam and enjoy a ping pong show in Bangkok.  Pick up a travel book and start planning!

5. Bad Credit: You can’t live without that Coach bag right now. You just have to have that DVF dress for the date party. Everyone else has an iPhone and you want one too. You’ll just charge it and worry about it later, right? Wrong, bitches. Ruining your credit now on stupid stuff (yes, I am telling you that bag is a stupid investment) will totally eff things up for you in the future. Things like getting a house, a car, a boyfriend (bad credit is a total turn-off) and sometimes even a job. Spend wisely, ladies. That bag is going to be out of style in .25 seconds anyway.

4. Not finishing school: Do we really even need to mention this one? Could you think of anything you’d regret more when you are 40 and working the checkout lane at your neighborhood Wal-mart? That is, assuming, you can even get that job in this economy.

3. Pre-vacation tanning: You tell yourself that you just want to get a base tan before Spring Break in Cabo. Sure, you will look fiiiine in that white shift dress for the 6 days after you return, but that wrinkley, skin cancer-ed mess is not going to look so hot when you’re 40 and you look like a Sharpei.

2. Stilettos: Part of becoming a woman is rockin’ the hottest pair of the highest heels. They make your legs look sick (that’s a good thing), make the men beg, and your jeans are too long to wear with anything lower. Why wouldn’t you wear them? I’ve got one hyphenated word for you: hammer-toes. You want to spend the later part of your life looking at that in a sandal?  Make your Feet Happy with these ultra comfy and cute socks..

(Editor’s note: I was going to put a picture of a gross foot here, but you Google “gross feet in sandals” and tell me how it makes you feel.)

1. “It feels better without condoms” sex: You’ll probably regret this one right off the bat as you spend your senior year chasing a kid around the dorms, but you’ll seriously regret it later when you look back at your life and realize how much you missed out on because you were busy changing diapers and bouncing a kid on your knee. Oh, and no one likes a woman with a bumpy vagina. I’m just sayin’; those genital warts will never go away.

The other day I was taking a little stroll through the city and I passed by the window of a baby store.  I had to stop because there is a lot of useful stuff in there!  I mean, who hasn’t been on an epic shopping trip, loaded with bags and stumbling on your swollen feet, and glared at the toddler being pushed around in the stroller?  I want a stroller!  Unfortunately, most things in a baby store are pretty mini.  But what if they weren’t??

Pacifiers - For the people that need some comfort in their lives!  Instead of eating while bored, just suck on a pacifier.  Same goes for drinking.  It could solve so many problems!  And when your girlfriends get a bit sloppy at the bar, just shove one of these in their mouths to protect them from their verbal diarrhea. Or putting something else in there…

Cribs -  Who hasn’t rolled out of bed on occasion? Especially after a night of debauchery? Cribs would solve everything!  Plus, they come with neat little gadgets and art pieces.  Set me up in an adult crib with a holder for my computer, phone, and adult pacifier and I’ll be set like a jet.

Leashes - Baby leashes are adorable.  Put one on a drunk adult and it just becomes necessary, especially for those friends who tend to wander when intoxicated. They would be exceptionally useful at crowded concerts, in a foreign city, at clubs, etc.  Some of them even come with a cute little cartoon-themed backpack (so it doesn’t look so cruel), which would be perfect for storing an emergency flask.

Bibs - Although I love wearing white, it is the bane of my existence.  I either have to avoid eating and drinking entirely when I wear it or just hope I’m magically less clumsy/sloppy on that particular day.  Bibs would completely eradicate this fear and give me the confidence to wear white and enjoy life! Yeah, bibs!

Diapers – Ok, so these do come in adult sizes, but that doesn’t mean they are socially acceptable. I don’t really have any particular need for diapers (in fact, the concept grosses me out), but I have thought on occasion that really, extremely drunk people could use them.  It’s better than peeing/pooing in the street/in the cab/on my carpet, no?  Yes…yes it is.

Ride On Carry On – This nifty little contraption is the solution to all my airport woes.  When going on vacation, I can just strap this sucker on my boyfriend’s carry-on luggage and have him wheel me through the terminal.  I could totally handle a 5am flight if someone just pulled me around while I was unconscious.  I wonder if this thing can be hooked onto anything else?  You know, like the back of a strapping young lad to carry me home when my stilettos hurt too much to take another step.

I am a chronic list-maker, whether I have to make a difficult decision or not.  Lists help me organize my thoughts and remember important facts and details that I need for later.  However, there are some things that I would rather forget and that’s what this week’s showdown concerns.

Those of us who have little sisters know how annoying they can be (haha, love you Chloe!).  Those of us who are humans who participate in society know how annoying famous little sisters can be.  The most annoying of these are probably Ashlee Simpson (okay, the older sister is just as annoying…if not more so) and Jamie Lynn Spears (well…ditto).  But which one is more of a fame whore?  Which one can even be called a valid human being (j/k…sort of)?

Babies
Ashlee Simpson had a baby (with a really weird name). Ashlee Simpson is a baby.  I feel like if you and your husband both wear skinny jeans and excessively gel/dye your hair, you shouldn’t be having children.  Maybe she should be taking some cues from her sister and get some mom jeans up in there.

Jamie Lynn Spears had a baby.  Wait, she’s legal? Oh…nope!  Anyway, good job on her to take the heat off her crazy-ass big sister by ‘causing a ruckus and getting knocked up all southern style.  That’s dedication.  That’s love.

Point: Ashlee Simpson.  I’m not even sure she remembers she has a baby after all the time she’s been spending screaming at people in clubs and making crappy albums. Also, was anyone talking about her post reconstructive surgery and pre baby? Nope! Nice publicity stunt, Ash!

“Fame”
Ashlee Simpson sang some songs…wait, or did she act in something?  What does she do again?  I forget.  Generally that’s not a good thing if you’re famous and people don’t remember what you’re famous for except for your ability to lip sync, get booed off stages and get nose/chin/total makeover jobs.

Jamie Lynn Spears…does…nothing?  Like, seriously.  What does she do?  I think maybe she sings stuff…and has a Disney TV show.  But who doesn’t these days?

Point: Jamie Lynn Spears. She literally does nothing and all her fame is due to her crazy big sister and her own pregnancy “scandal.”

Family
Ashlee Simpson has a crazy, controlling dad and a seriously misguided older sister (I swear, the buffalo wings thing…).  Ashlee could probably take the prize of being the most well-adjusted and “normal” in that family, considering what she had to deal with while growing up. Although, that might not be saying much…

Jamie Lynn Spears has a crazy older sister (really, really crazy) and a fame-hungry mother.  Considering the level of craziness that Britney Spears operates on, Jamie Lynn seems to have missed that genetic bullet.

Point: Ashlee Simpson. Her sister must have rubbed some of that brainless, fake-talent stuff on to her.

Talent/Career
Ashlee Simpson can’t sing (we all know that) and she can’t act, but apparently she can dance.  She was even admitted into the School of American Ballet.  Too bad she seems to be focusing on the “talents” that she doesn’t actually have, as compared to what she can do relatively well.

Jamie Lynn Spears can act (I guess) on a level that is acceptable for those who perform for the mindless preteens who watch the Disney Channel.  That’s about it.  Oh wait, her reproductive organs seem to be pretty talented…

Point: Jamie Lynn Spears. As much as I hate to admit it, Ashlee Simpson actually had talent at one point. Jamie Lynn Spears just doesn’t.

Celebretard Prize Goes To: Ashlee Simpson. Lack of any remaining talent + big ego + retarded name for baby (Bronx Mowgli??) + 500 other stupid things = Celebretard.  Sorry  Jamie Lynn, you need to be at least half a celebrity to get this prize.

A woman in the UK recently gave birth in her sweats (her third child, but the first in her pants) while walking down the stairs in her home.  Her partner noticed a lump sliding down her leg and dove to catch the baby before it hit the ground.

I just…there are so many things wrong with this.  How big does your vagina have to be that the baby can just slide out?  I mean, it’s a good thing she wasn’t wearing leggings or a mini-skirt…well, leggings would at least keep the baby near the vag, but the mini-skirt would probably lead to a head injury, not to mention an awful show for anyone standing around.

I imagine the conversation with friends after the birth went a little something like this:

“Oh, how did your delivery go?”

“Oh, it was fine, real easy.  I just walked downstairs, it popped out, I grabbed it out of my sweats, and then went to the kitchen to get some Cheetos.  Then I took a shower because, well, it was gross.”

“Well…alright then.”

At any rate, this story at least make me appreciate what I have.  I mean, I’d rather look down and find my Luckies aren’t going on because I haven’t been to the gym in a month than find a baby hanging there.  Gah.

I don’t really know where I stand on abortion. Well, that’s not entirely true. I know that every woman deserves to have one if she so chooses, but I really don’t know what I’d choose. Either way, it’s a choice that would impact me for the rest of my life.

It would also impact someone else – the father – though that is not something I’d really thought about before, either. I’ve always considered abortion a personal decision, but is it? Does the guy get a say in things? Should he? Does he even want one? So many questions, so I turned to my favorite guy to see what he thought about the whole thing. For the first time in a long time, he really got me thinking.

[Got something you'd like us to discuss? Leave it in the comments or email us and let us know!]

]]> http://collegecandy.com/2009/06/03/he-saidshe-said-the-abortion-issue/feed/ 33 ccandystaff pregnant abortion1 abortion2 abortion3 abortion4 abortion5 abortion7 abortion8 abortion9 http://collegecandy.com/2009/04/21/tuffy-luv-luvs-eggs/ http://collegecandy.com/2009/04/21/tuffy-luv-luvs-eggs/#comments Tue, 21 Apr 2009 17:00:49 +0000 Sara - NYU http://collegecandy.com/?p=27754 ]]> Got a question for Tuffo? Email her at tuffyluv@collegecandy.com to be featured in her weekly column!

Dear Tuffy Luv,

I’m broke. But I’m still in college so I can’t work full-time. So I had this great idea. I’m going to donate an egg. Do you know anything about this? All I know is it’s going to make me money.
Thank you, Tuffy!

Brandi

Dear Brandi,

It’s true you can make thousands of dollars for donating eggs, but it’s a little more complicated than that. (Isn’t everything? Sigh.)

Women are born with a certain number of eggos. There’re several hundred, but what you got is all you get. To give, you have to be at least 21 and you usually have to be less than 35. You have to be healthy (no STDs or hereditary health problems) and you can’t be a drug user or alcoholic.

But that ain’t it, kid. The process then screens you for things like how you look, how you did on your standardized tests, and so on and so forth. Because, although there are lots of people who do this just to have a baby, some people do this to try to design their baby. Which Tuffy ain’t making a statement on. But just so’s you’re aware.

Anyway, once you’re accepted, you have a gynecological exam. If that clears, you’re given a donor agreement to sign saying you’ll never try to claim custody of the kid, etc. etc. etc. And then, finally, you get paid. Several thousand bucks, in fact.

But it’s not done yet! Now’s the surgery part. You’ll be injected with gonadotropins (hormones) every day for a month to make you produce extra eggs. This makes your stomach look like you are with child and your eventual period EXTREMELY uncomfortable. But it’s just the one month. Be VERY, VERY careful (seriously, VERY careful) during this — you will be extremely fertile, so pregnancy is a big problem. Be careful! (See my last post, ladies!)

After a series of minor medial procedures (ask your doc), you finally have the surgery. It takes about a half an hour. A doctor numbs you and inserts a needle into you to collect the eggs. Afterward, you take antibiotics so as not to get an infection.

Listen, girl. This is a very giving thing to do that can really help couples who can’t have children of their own. BUT!!! – this is a big but, ladies – it’s a difficult procedure that is hard on a woman’s body. Please make sure it’s worth it to you before you do it.

If you’re thinking about doing this for the cash, you better sit your sweet self down with a doctor and talk about it first. Think long and hard–this is NOT easy money.

Hearts & Skulls,

Tuffy Luv

Dear PMS:

Why?
Just why?

Who do you think you are? I mean really. You come around once a month like that annoying friend you don’t really want to hear from, yet every month, without fail, she asks you for plans and you feel sort of obligated. So you give in, but then coffee turns into an all day shopping ordeal and by the end you want to tear your hair out because now not only did you learn that you can’t stand the person you are with, but  – bonus lesson! – you learned that eating cookies DOES in fact equal having to buy a size up in your jeans.

Well that’s how I feel with you. Only instead of a day, it’s 5 and the only person I can’t stand to be around is myself. (The part of the too-tight jeans rings true thanks to you making me feel the urge to eat a bag of something salty, which of course leads me to want something sweet, which then of course leads me to want a tuna sandwich. I know! I don’t get it either!)

You make me weepy. I cry at Disney commercials (true story) and when the cheesy music comes on as the lesson is learned at the end of Full House. Strike that – you make me actually want to watch Full House.

You make my boobs hurt so much that I have to wear two sports bras to workout…and one to sleep. I can’t even put a shirt on without wincing in pain; forget sleeping on my stomach. Or, I don’t know, letting a boy anywhere near them.

You make my skin revert back to its 13 year old ways. Do you remember what its like to be 13, PMS? Do you? I don’t think you do, because if you did then you would vividly remember the time that cute boy Josh Schwartz asked me why Mount Everest decide to relocate to my face because, in his opinion, Mt. Everest was doing just fine where it was and that I should be in an advertisement for Clearasil. That would be reason enough to never ever give me a pimple again. But noooo – even in my young adult life, every month you feel the need to sprout a pimple right in the center of my face. And not just any pimple – you prefer the special giant kind that starts from underneath and is more painful than any period cramp in the history of cramps.  (Don’t even get me started on those.)

You make me moody – probabaly because I look like sh*t and my pants don’t button – but either way I’m a total bitch to the rest of the world. And the worst part is: I realize I’m doing it. Inside my head I say, “Jill stop being such a moody bitch,” but then word vomit – the bitch version – takes over and everything mean and insensitive and downright bitchy just comes out.

I mean, I get it – they (my mother) say you are really a gift because not only do I know for sure that I’m not popping one out in 9 months, but you are also preparing me for childbirth. That the cramps are really a blessing because they are preparing me for contractions. That I should embrace mother nature and say “No means NO” to Advil and instead say “Hollerrrr!” to an amazing experience that will one day be a baby’s head coming out of my Vagina.

But I. don’t. care. I saw Knocked Up and I am already in therapy for it, so give me a freaking break. Much like the annoying drunk, the needy girl and the chick who always ditches her friends for her boyfriend, you are one friend I can definitely do without.

That is all.

No love,
Jill

Now I like a man who comes prepared. Like a Boy Scout (only without the weird uniform…or maybe that could be fun). I mean, I’m not going to carry condoms around in my purse; women supply the birth control pill, so it’s up to the dude to bring the rubbers. At least that’s my feeling on the sitch. Besides, my going-out-bags barely have room for my camera, wallet and keys, let alone a box of Trojans.

The topic of birth control is one that comes up often in a relationship – long term or one night – so I wanted to see what the guys were thinking about it. Looks like we’re not the only ones freaking out about babies, ladies!