In defense of Adam Lambert’s on-stage BJ.

Does Emma Watson have a boyfriend?

Looks like Suri’s picking out her own outfits.

Kick those bad dating habits to the curb!

Happy 40th, P Diddy!

The pics you didn’t see from The Hangover.

I remember watching Say Anything with my sister when I was a kid and wondering if all men were as sweet as Lloyd Dobbler, standing outside a girl’s house with a boom box over his head. Obviously I had a rude awakening when I got to dating age and realized that high school guys were actually kinda jerks. I never got a big romantic gesture, Valentines, or even a cute note in class.

After meeting Matt in college and falling in love, I realized that those high school boys were still pretty eh, but I also learned that it doesn’t take some grand romantic gesture to be a sweet guy. It’s all the little things Matt does for me that really mean the most.

Last week I was in Wisconsin for my grandpa’s funeral. Since it was such short notice, my mom couldn’t afford to fly Matt up with me so he stayed at home while I was gone for a week. When I finally returned to Texas, I was coming down the elevator at the airport to meet him and he walked up the escalator just so he could give me a kiss and a hug a little bit earlier. He totally swept me off my feet, and with him just being his usual impatient self.

I’ve learned that guys don’t really like the big romantic gestures because most of the time they’re afraid they’ll either: A. screw it up somehow, B. embarrass themselves, C. get rejected, or D. all of the above. So honestly, the big romantic things are pretty rare, and while that means they should still be valued when they DO come along, you have to pay attention and enjoy the smaller things.

I for one love to get the random text at 2 in the afternoon that just says “i love you” when I’ve been having a bad day. It turns my entire day around from crappy to awesome. Or when Matt lets me have the last Dr. Pepper in the fridge. Such a gentlemen! I’ve learned not to expect amazing over-the-top romantic nights from Matt and I’m perfectly happy with that. As women we need to stop putting so much pressure on men to be romantic when just letting them be them can make us so much happier.

Face it, you’re not going to have Lloyd Dobbler standing outside your window every day trying to win you back. Or even your guy buying you flowers and cooking a romantic dinner on a random Thursday night. It’s the little things that count; they really do make me love my boyfriend a little more each day.

Whether it’s just a note left on our chalkboard in the apartment, or when he kisses me on my head when I’m still in bed and he’s off to his 8 o’clock class, the smallest gestures can really show just how much your man loves you and make you think “I have the best boyfriend EVER.”

Who needs some expensive gift when you’ve got that?

So that time of year is creeping up on us. The time when we must throw some clothes into duffel, fill the rest of the bag with dirty laundry, kiss our roommate and our bottle of vodka goodbye, and head home for fall break.

Yes, there are many up-sides to this little trip: we get a break from all the homework, we get to eat something other then cafeteria mystery meat for a change, and we get to curl up with Scruffy on the couch for a couple of days.

But with the comfort of being home comes a few downers as well. And I’m not talking about being woken up at 9am on a Saturday or having to empty the dishwasher. It’s those little comments from mom and dad that really get under your skin. And no matter how hard you try to be nice, you just can’t help but snap, say something mean and beeline to the car/airport (clean clothes and leftovers in hand, obvi) as soon as humanly possible.

Here are a few of the worst offenders:

“Honey, your pants look a little tight”
Yes mom, I realize that drinking 5 days out of the week and eating delivery pizza has done a number on my waistline. Am I happy about it? No. Do I know it is there? Yes. Is it helping that you pinch the muffin top and poke the underarm flab? Absolutely not!

“Have you found a nice boy yet?”
If by “nice” you mean “a tall pre-med student who considers hanging out in the library fun,” then no, dad, I have not found your ideal son-in-law quite yet. But I have hooked up with a couple of the guys on the football team who can barely form coherent sentences but have 8-pack stomachs you can bounce a quarter off of, if that counts for anything.

“Are you getting straight A’s?”
Don’t you think if I was acing every test I probably would’ve mentioned it to you in our weekly phone calls? It’s the fact that I am failing Bio miserably and barely ever making it to the 9 a.m. calculus lectures that has kept this topic out of our discussions. Maybe next semester. Keep praying, I know I am.

“We’re not just your ATM, you know.”
Ok, so they’re right about that, but between classes and everything else I’m doing on campus (napping?), I just don’t have the time to call and chat every day. Hell, they should be happy they hear from me at all.

“We saw your pictures on Facebook, you look like you are having…a lot of fun”
Get off Facebook! This is not a tool to stalk your children and befriend your old high school classmates and catch up. This is my website where I stalk my ex boyfriends and post sloppy pictures of myself, neither of which I would like you to monitor.

“Why can’t I see your Facebook pictures anymore?”
I have no idea, mom; Facebook must be crashing. It’s been having a lot of issues you know, giving people viruses and stuff. You should really terminate your account.

“We are still trying to plan that visit”
Oh goody. I can cancel all the party invitations for a 4-day weekend filled with quiet dinners, giving campus tours, and being yelled at for living in a pigsty. Wonderful. I’ll just pray you don’t find the handle of rum under my bed, or the textbooks still in their wrapping in the desk drawer.

What else do your parents pester you with over break that drives you crazy?

I decided to take a different approach to this weekend’s Saturday Read. Usually, I try to recommend my readers a great book. But this week, I’m looking to use a book to make a point.

“I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” is a controversial memoir by Tucker Max. If you read this website as religiously as I do, you know all about our feelings on this guy. If you are a newcomer and or live under a rock somewhere and have never heard of Max, here is his life:

Average guy.
Started a website.
Sleeps with women.
Posts his stories about the horrible things he does to said women.
Published this book and then turned it into a movie.
Guys laugh. Girls laugh.

Now, let me just say this as my disclaimer: I DO NOT AGREE WITH TUCKER MAX. I don’t think that any of the things that he does to women are right and, if they happened to me, I’m sure I would have some psychological damage. However, I have a hard time believing the truth in all of his stories (as 10% of a biography or memoir can be embellished). If you’ve read the book, you know the ridiculous things I’m talking about. And, yes, assuming that his stories are somehow exaggerated does make me feel a bit less guilty while laughing at them.

But, my point…

This book got me thinking (something I’m sure wasn’t on Max’s list of goals when writing it). In these stories Tucker does not force a woman to do any of the things they do; he simply suggests it. Obviously, some of these acts only happen because the women are beyond smashed, but really, I think Tucker inadvertently brings up a great point: why do we let men make fools of us?

The women Tucker writes about are so completely and utterly desperate that they will do WHATEVER he says. Example: After sleeping with an overweight girl, Tucker forces her to jump out of his apartment window. Yes, horrific. Beyond horrific. But THAT WOMAN AGREED. What would have happened if she had simply said, No? Probably nothing. She would have walked out the front door, Tucker’s roommates may have teased him, and I know for sure that story wouldn’t have made it into “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell.”

Oh yeah – and this woman may still have a shred of dignity.

Because woman after woman has let Tucker get away with this stuff, he tries it on all of them. I’m sure there are some girls out there who have stood up and said no to this guy. But we don’t know about those women because their stories are never told. If all women that Tucker encountered said no, then he would have no career. He makes money off of women who have some crazy self-esteem issues so when a guy like Max comes around who shows ANY interest in them and he says “Jump!” they respond, “Out of that window?”

While Max’s book was meant to entertain (and entertain it did!), there is something to learn here. Stick up for yourself! Don’t put up with an abusive man (yes, verbal abuse and humiliation are still abuse). If a man tries to pull a Tucker Max, tell him where to shove it instead. You teach people how to teach you; respect yourself, know your self-worth and I promise you, you will end up with a partner who treats you like a princess.

So, I would like to thank Tucker Max for “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell” and for teaching us all a lesson about respecting ourselves. Hell, it may even be worth picking up a copy and arming yourself against the kind of scummy guys in this world. But, just know that all men are not jerks and a good one will NEVER be ashamed of you.

Or humiliate you for a few bucks and a movie deal.

Though we hate it when guys call us crazy/psycho, every girl out there has had their moment. For me, it was when I drafted an email to a non-existent person and “accidentally” sent it to my crush, forcing him to write back. Or the time I called a different crush’s work and used a fake name to see if he was indeed working late or just lying to me to hook up with some other girl. Or when I used to walk by yet another crush’s dorm to see if his light was on and if he was home.

Ok, so I’ve had my fair share of crazy-time, but it’s not my fault. I’m not a crazy person – boys just make me that way. And I know you ladies can relate.

After leaving a long, drunken voicemail for my newest conquest last weekend (“I don’t understand why you’re not calling me. I like you. Do you like me? Oh god I sound crazy. I’m not cra-” This is where my friend grabbed the phone and threw it across the room…), I sobered up, wiped up my dignity and deleted his number from my phone.

Then, as I sat indulging in some pretzels dipped in frosting, I started wondering what other girls were taking a ride on the crazy train. While no one wanted to admit it, I forced the CollegeCandy writers to fess up to their lowest moments.

Zahra – Northwestern University: When one guy I was with decided to just disappear, I wasn’t having it. I called him tons of times and wrote him texts that went on for pages…ugh. Seriously, I shudder when I think of how psycho I was acting.

Kim – Stanford: I went a little crazy when I sent a text message from HIS phone to this girl that always hit on him that he thought she was ugly and really didn’t like her personality and to stop texting him.  Yeah, the girl never hit on him again after that.

Maddie – Tufts: Probably the time that I went on my ex-boyfriends Facebook and read his messages. Oops.

Anna – Northeastern University: My roommate was obsessed with this guy that she hadn’t met, but seen at his place of work. She found him on Twitter and made a fake Facebook account to stalk him. Then one night when she was really drunk and couldn’t find our other friends at a party she went next door to where he worked (a bar) and started ordering drinks. Basically the night ended with her following him out when his shift ended, grabbing his head, and making out with him.

Lauren – University of Michigan: After meeting a really hot guy at a bar and totally hitting it off, I had to leave to take care of a friend. I never got his number so I went back the next weekend and grilled the bartender to see if he remembered who he was and if he might have a credit card receipt for him. What? It works on Law and Order…

Katie – Michigan State University: A couple years ago, my boyfriend went back home to Korea for the summer and begged me to do a long distance relationship with him.  Funny thing was, he dropped all communication a week after he got there.  So, naturally, I stalked one of his friends on MSN, struck up a phony friendship, asked for my boyfriend’s Korean phone number and proceeded to call him 17 times in one night.  Not only did he never answer my calls/e-mails, I also got stuck with a ginormous phone bill.

Leah – Ryerson University: I took the car keys of a guy I was interested in so that 1) he couldn’t drive home (2 hours away) that night and 2) so he would have to see me again.  To my defence it was less craziness, and more 4 glasses of wine and 4 shots.

Brithny- Duke: Nothing really crazy, but I do sometimes “accidentally” run into him on our way to class. Even though our classes on on the opposite ends of the campus. Thank you, FB schedules.

Thu – USC: This is probably more weird and embarrassing than crazy, but I remember back in middle school, my friends dared me to just say hi to my crush, who had no idea who I was. Not having the guts to do it face to face, I once yelled out hi to him from the passenger seat as my dad drove by. Needless to say, it didn’t accomplish anything.

Ness – Sheridan: Once every few weeks, I Facebook search a guy I used to be involved with. His profile is set to private, and I’m too much of a puss to send him a friend request, so I check out his profile pic every once in a while. Wow, that sounds so much worse when it’s written down…

Ricki-University of Michigan: I once stalked all of his photos just to figure out who his ex-girlfriend was…and then when I had to meet her, I pretended like I didn’t know who she was.

Alex K – Lakehead University: My craziest moment is probably stalking. I happen to be very good at finding boys on Facebook…. I have done drivebys before too….

You know you’ve pulled out the crazy before. Let it all out in the comments section – we won’t judge.

There’s an app for that.

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University athletes create a disturbing Facebook group.

More bad news for Jessica Simpson.

10 dating mistakes men make.

Shakira’s new ‘do is a major don’t.

While signing my life away last year… I mean, my apartment lease… many things crossed my mind:

1)   No more crappy cafeteria food!
2)   Yay for bonding! We’ll be all up in each other’s business all the time.
3)   We’ll have so much in common – we all have boyfriends!

Now this has become two (sorta) truths and a lie. I went from cafeteria food to massive amounts of frozen food shipped from my loving mother. (What can I say? She refused to let me live on Ramen.) And being all up in each other’s business turned out to be more than I bargained for. Think assigned chores, paying rent, and dealing with cockroaches when we moved in (still makes me shudder!). And as you may have already guessed, the boyfriend and I broke up. So that leaves (put your hands up!) a single, independent woman who apparently makes references to Beyonce songs when she talks about herself.

Yes, I’m single and living with three other girls in relationships.

At first it wasn’t such a big deal, but after welcome week ended and classes began, the boyfriends became frequent fixtures in the apartment. Or maybe I just started noticing then because I was no longer intoxicated… But I digress. Soon I started wondering how I’d deal with their constant presence for the rest of the year. Don’t get me wrong – roommate love abounds in our apartment. I look forward to Project Runway marathons and love notes via whiteboard. And we are proud to say that the rapidly expanding empty bottle collection atop the kitchen cabinets will no doubt qualify for the 8^th wonder of the world soon.

But it can get a little frustrating. I can no longer walk around half-dressed while getting ready. I’m not that self-conscious, but having your roommate’s boyfriend right there makes walking around in a towel a bit uncomfortable. And, while I’m definitely not the type of girl to get dolled up every time I’m around some guys, it gets tiresome to have to put on real clothes, brush my hair, and put in the contacts because the boyfs are around (because no matter his relationship status, chances are he has some cute, single friends, right?).

And if I’m playing music and dancing around (not in my underwear like the old days before the boyfriends moved in), I feel compelled to change up my musical selections when the guys arrive since “Party in the USA” apparently doesn’t appeal to the brethren… Who knew?

Being surrounded by couples is a dangerous position to be in. You never know when you’re going to walk in on something “in progress.” In fact, with the overwhelming amount of PDA happening in my living room/kitchen, it’s impossible not to. There is love and kisses and foot rubbing (ew, seriously?) happening everywhere I turn.

But ultimately, my one complaint and biggest pet peeve about my current sitch comes back to the ladies themselves. There is always the ever-present dilemma of who to hang out with: boyfriends, friends/roommates, or both? And somehow I always end up losing out. I distinctly remember being there for these girls while they were lonely and longing for a boy. I recall trying to decipher his ambiguous text messages when they first started dating. And I am now trying to cope with the fact that the next time we will spend real quality time (sans the men) together is when they’re blowing their noses into my shoulder while telling me what a good friend I am because I’m driving us on an emergency ice cream run at 2am the night they get dumped.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m happy that they’re happy. And I’m also quite happy in my current single-dom. And there are even some bright spots to all this: since my roommates are with their bfs pretty consistently, I can bring friends back to the apartment at wee hours of the morning without worrying about waking anyone up. And since my roommates are way past the dating scene, they always enjoy hearing my exciting, hilarious, or terrible dating escapades.

But I miss my single friends. I miss hearing their stories. I miss having spontaneous impromptu late-night parties with the new dudes we meet at a party. I miss the girls-only morning-after recaps.

The only thing I’m not really missing is my own boyfriend…

[Photo courtesy of moviecritic.com]

What is he thinking?!

Got a little question for Tuffy Luv? She’s got a little answer for you! Email questions to TuffyLuv@collegecandy.com for a chance to be featured in the Tuffster’s column.

Dear Tuffy Luv,

So, I have a cozy, late-night nookie friend.

We’re not overly compatible in the sobering light of day, and we’re both unusually insecure, so the unspoken rule seems to be every couple of weeks or more. Emails are sporadic and sweet, for reasons that any of you who’ve ever binged on ice cream before or heard the chorus of the Elliott Smith song “Ballad of Big Nothing” will know.

I disappeared this summer, so falling back into a routine feels like navigating the bumpy straits of first acquaintance all over again. We’ve only seen each other three times this fall, but a few weeks ago, maybe moved by birthday drinks or the card that I sent him, he sent me an email telling me to barge in whenever I felt like it.

Yesterday I favorited three of his photos on flickr after he sent me a link to them (I don’t do much favoriting or flickring), did some back-and-forthing on gmail (felt reminiscent of my lame puppy crush days), and took off on my bike for his house after he invited me to come over and continue the conversation in person. I didn’t send him any kind of confirmation message, figuring it would be a nicer surprise just to show up.

All his lights were on, but he wasn’t there.

Asleep? Passed out? Gone for a walk? I called and left a short, gloomy message lacking in the appropriate nonchalance. Then I went home.

Now I just feel kind of embarrassed. Should I be?

Yours,
Rachel

Dear Rachel,

Tuffy can’t help but be moved by the eloquence and odd self-referentialism of your letter. So, let’s do this.

Quickly, to get it out of the way: No, I don’t think you should be embarrassed. He invited you over. You showed up (albeit, unannounced). He wasn’t prepared. (Perhaps, as you say, he was asleep? Or maybe he was just nakey or something and was too flustered to get it together to come greet you at the door.) I think this was just a minor mis-communication. Sometimes surprises don’t work out that well. No big deal.

I also don’t think you should be embarrassed by the overly-enthusiastic message you say you left. He’s probably, in fact, already called you back at the time of this posting. If not, perhaps he was just too shy to return it.

Which brings me to what I actually want to say about your letter. I’m mostly worried about the idea that the two of you are “both unusually insecure.” Because, you know, that’s actually exactly what’s holding you back.

For those of you who do not have access to either the CollegeCandy Tuffy Luv email or Rachel’s computer, the subject of the email was: “overthinking my friendship with benefits?” To that end, girl, yes, you are. At least the way things are going now. You hook up every couple of weeks and that’s that.

But!

You seem to actually like each other (birthday cards, sweet emails, Flickr favoriting or whatever you crazy kids are doing these days), so I don’t see why you aren’t dating. You both seem to be clumsily attempting to move into that space, but both of your insecurities are getting in the way. It’s like college-age Woody Allens trying to date each other. And you seem like such a cool girl, so I hate to see that go down.

Unfortch, there’s no magic potion for getting over being insecure. Except, you know, getting older and ceasing to worry that people are judging you. Because usually they’re too busy judging themselves. And if they are judging you, chances are they’re too miserable to really matter.

So: cut that shiz out!!! Get over yourself and call him up and propose a hangout. If it doesn’t work out, whatever – it’s not like you’ll be losing some great friendship. But if it does work out, well, wouldn’t that be nice?

Best, Rach!

Hearts & Skulls,

Tuffy Luv

See ya later, Single Status!

It’s weird how it happens. One day you’re screaming “THIS IS MY SONG!” every time “Single Ladies” comes on at the bar, and the next…well, you’re doing the same thing, but it’s not actually true. After just over two years of being the most single person on the planet, I actually took the dive. It happened really unexpectedly with a cute acquaintance I have known for years. We started talking a little more, and things took off out of nowhere.

I used to want to jack people in the face when they said, “When you stop looking for a boyfriend, you’ll get one.” And even though that is exactly what happened, that’s still really annoying advice. I think I hate it largely because it takes the situation out of your hands; as if you have to be in some sort of cosmic state of perfect personal balance just to get a damn date. I think a better way to phrase the advice is this:

Beating yourself up over not having a boyfriend or becoming depressed that “there’s no one out there” isn’t going to make your perfect mate appear out of thin are. There are times when 5 guys ask you out in a week, and there are times when your only male interaction for months is with your Environmental Science professor (hopefully not the wrong kind of interaction…). You can control your love life, but only to a certain extent. You don’t completely control who you meet, when you meet them, or (even as much as we try) how they feel about you.

I think what these crappy advice givers mean to say is if you can be happy without a boyfriend, you won’t turn your love life into the biggest stress-sesh since applying to grad school. Hello, school is pressure, work is pressure, your parents are pressure…dating shouldn’t be. It’s not going into your GPA, so live a little. There are perks to being single, and there are perks to being coupled, so exploit what you have. Learning to enjoy your status no matter what it may be is the biggest breakthrough for women since the water bra; both help you work with what you’ve got.

While I do really dig my guy, I’m going to admit it: I already miss being single. My single friends glare at me when I say this, but I mean it. Look, just one week after finally taking the plunge into exclusivity, I met a super hot grad student from NYU while I was out (I’m pretty sure the relationship Gods were testing me). I couldn’t give him my number. It was more traumatizing for me than when my first goldfish died. So the next time you’re blubbering about flying solo, just remember; you get to mack on anyone and everyone, and you don’t have to shave your legs everyday. Love the perks while you can!

[Since Dannia went and got herself a man, we're lookin' for a new Single Lady. If you know someone who's living up the single life, have her send an email to editor@collegecandy.com. We want to share her experiences with the world.]

Stay away. Stay far, far away.

Making your way through the landmine that is the world of college dating is tricky. You have to make sure to bypass the clingy, the crazy and the man-whores before you can settle down in a safe zone. But just like my favorite computer procrastination game, Minesweeper, there are red flags that you have to pay heed to, lest you detonate a mine, or a relationship gone sour.

Red Flag #5: His idea of a date is using a meal swipe on you at the dining hall. I see a long line of Denny’s dates in your future.

Red Flag #4: You finally get invited to spend the night in his dorm room. But upon arriving you notice his collection of navel fluff in jars lining his book shelves. If the guy is collecting his own belly button lint, chances are you were going to wake up later that night and find him finger-diving for yours.

Red Flag #3: The only time he ever calls you is to ask if you’ve filled your Adderall prescription. Your doctor-diagnosed disease has turned you into his and his friends personal drug-dealer come exam time. You have to ask yourself, does he love you or your ADD?

Red Flag #2: We all want our roommates to like our boyfriends. It makes it easier to sexile them come the weekend. But if you find him spending more time with her than with you, don’t ignore this red flag. Unless you’re interested in a threesome, don’t be surprised if you wake up and he’s spooning your roomie instead of you.

Red Flag #1: You read him the following FMyLife: “Today, my boyfriend told me he always thought the female orgasm was an urban legend. FML” And his response was, “Wait, it’s not?”

As Liz Lemon would say… That’s a deal breaker!