There was an equally awesome/puzzling interview with Fergie (she looks great, poses in yoga moves and has dachshunds). The gift guide contained about 70% of my Christmas list (srsly, check out the Smashbox brushes on p. 100). There were tons of adorable mini skirts, and a ridiculous article where two guys keep diaries for 10 days about everything that goes through their minds. Spoiler alert: These guys think about sex a lot. These guys also happen to write exactly like Cosmo staffers. Hmm…

The crown jewel of the entire issue, though, had to be “Hidden Secrets His Hug Reveals.” Apparently, a hug can mean more than “not just a handshake, not quite a kiss.” Enjoy what Cosmo has to say about:

The Sneak Attack

Cosmo says: If he encircles you from behind, he’s totes “blanketing your body” with his love. Unless he does it all the time—then he’s too much of a pansy to hug you from the front.

Kari says: He better have highly recognizable cologne, because if an unknown dude suddenly wraps his arms around my chest, he’s getting a sample of that self-defense course my sorority held. Other than that, IDK about this “sense of oneness” that you’re going on about, Cosmo. I normally equate those three little words with meaningful eye contact and slow dancing non-ironically to “Forever young”…

The Rub

Cosmo Says: “You can’t see your back,” so rubbing it means he wants to nurture and protect you. Also, rubbing is sexual! So don’t be alarmed if he tries to get frisky. Or, he’s just doing it because he’s sad, can’t verbalize it, and wants you to rub his back (Awww).

Kari Says: Actually, I can see my back, thanks to strategically placed mirrors I use to straighten this one crazy piece of hair at the back of my head… Anyways, whenever I get a back rub, it’s usually because I explicitly asked for it, but my second assumption would definitely be horniness. And I’m not sure how to differentiate between the varieties of back rubbing (counterclockwise if he’s horny? Above the 5^th vertebrae if he’s nurturing), but for future reference, I’ll try to make sure he doesn’t look sad while he’s doing it.

The Pat

Cosmo Says: A) he’s not into you B) he’s mad at you or C) he’s encouraging you. Or maybe D) he just isn’t into PDA or E) he’s on his iPhone.

Kari Says: Thanks, Cosmo for narrowing that one down. If I was left to my own devices I probably would have thought for days about what his “pat” meant. In all seriousness though, the only semblance of rationality I can take away from this analysis is that if you don’t know him that well, pat = bad. If he’s your 5 star chick (or whatever the male equivalent of that is) pat = neutral…or ADD.

The Waist Wrap

Cosmo Says: No surprise here! Homeboy wants to knock boots. Pronto. Oh, and if he touches his forehead to yours, he wants to “merge his thoughts with yours.” Keeper!

Kari Says: If a guy casually hugs you around the waist (as most men do, considering they’re probably taller than you), count to ten before you whip out the condoms. If there is any hip gyration involved in the hug, then yes, Cosmo, you are right on track.

Alright ladies, what’s your fave hugging style? Do you think that guys go home after Beat the Clock and intently discuss their elbow placement during your embrace? Yea, me neither…

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupidity of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone etiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce.

So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortunate road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Ex-boyfriend calls out of the blue (at 3 am).

Although it would be mighty enjoyable to deny your calls during daylight hours, I just couldn’t muster up the proper amount of excitement about ignoring you as I was attempting to sleep. At 3 am. As most (okay some) college students are doing on Wednesday nights. It was, in fact, incredibly irritating to listen to my phone vibrating violently until it buzzzzed right off my nightstand, unplugged itself from my charger and died early the next morning, preventing me from whiling away my classes with interesting texts and Facebook stalking.

It seems that you still find ways to annoy the sh*t out of me, even technologically! Your call was especially appreciated by my new (and way better) boyfriend, who happened to be sleeping next to me and was quite frankly a little pissed off for the entire next day due to sleep deprivation and extreme annoyance with you. The only consolation I got from your obnoxious ass was the touching voicemail you left me (I believe you were crying) slurring on and on about how great I am. Well, I think it’s a little too late for that, mister, and so does everyone else who listened to it (aka 48 of my sorority sisters with a tendency to gossip)–although they did get a great laugh out of listening to your blubbering for 3 minutes.

Re-runs of The Office when you specifically cancelled Thirsty Thursday to curl up with Jim and Pam.

Any college student can tell you how vitally important Thursdays are to the bar, social and (for my single ladies) the sexual scene on campus (um, VERY). So it’s a heart wrenching decision when I decide to spare my liver and my wallet on the occasional Thurs, order myself an entire pizza (not that I’ll eat it all at once or anything…) and wave a bittersweet goodbye to my dressed up friends waltzing out the door with our good friend Franzia tucked under one arm. Any regret of staying in usually vanishes upon the beginning of my favorite Comedy Night Done Right component: The Office. And then it’s a repeat. I already know that Jan had her baby before the shower, that Angela gets screwed out of both Dwight and Andy, and that sadly, Michael will not win Holly back. What I do not know is how to deal with the intense anger and grief that accompanies my realization that I have 20 minutes to get ready, get my ass to the bar and start chugging before Beat the Clock is over. You may have won this week NBC, but I’ll be watching next week’s episode on Hulu while I’m hungover Friday afternoon.

Scented Candles.

It seems like I buy a new scented candle anytime I go anywhere. At the mall, it’s Bath and Body Works to splurge on White Barn. At home it’s buying fundraising candles from younger cousins or my mom’s co-workers. At Walmart it’s just me going buckwild on the candle aisle (they’re like $2.99 for a 20 ouncer! I’d be crazy not to take advantage!). Every time  I come home with a new candle, find a strategically awesome place to put it so that it matches the room’s color/vibe/purpose/season/whatev and light that bad boy up, I get a little feeling of wonderfully scented satisfaction. Fast forward to two weeks later. My formerly awesome candle just doesn’t have the same pungency. It’s not as pretty now that all the wildflowers in the wax are long gone. In fact, the wax is kind of crazy and gnarly and isn’t cute at all. And that’s if there’s even any wick left.

Most of the time it just burns down to the bottom and I’m left with a glass jar of wonderfully scented garbage. I don’t even have any surface area left in my room to put things down on. Just jars and jars of various candles that I occasionally sniff and can’t bear to throw out. I think it’s turning into a problem, so I’ve resolved only to buy 4 candles a year (so they’re seasonally appropriate, and I won’t feel bad about shelling out for Yankee Candle in the recession.). Yet everywhere I go, a new candle with some pretty ribbon or delicious scent taunts me and tries to lure me back to the dark (light and fragrant?) side…

When your roommates go on dates with a**holes.

More specifically, when I’m the designated meet and greeter for said a**holes. I have better things to do than get the door for you and make small talk while my roomie finishes making herself hotter (for your benefit!). The least you can do is be polite, don’t turn on MY TV without permission and not take the phrase “make yourself comfortable” to the extreme (removing jacket, perfectly acceptable; removing shoes and socks while you wait for 15 minutes—not so much.) And I would have thought that it goes without saying, but um, don’t be f–ing rude to a friend of the girl you’re most likely gonna try to hook up with later (because I will c&ck block you with all of my best efforts).

Being rude includes, but is not limited to: Answering my small talk with nods, only speaking to ask where the shot glasses are, proceeding to nonchalantly smoke pot in my living room, chase aforementioned shot with my last Diet Snapple, eavesdrop on me telling my boyfriend that I have a headache, or suggest that a good remedy for headaches is an intense workout—and that I should try it sometime. Don’t worry, I’ll catch your date up on your rude behavior via text message while the two of you enjoy your evening out.