How old would you guess I’d be if I had a mini-celebration in my classy little lady heart because breakfast sandwiches were served on my flight into JFK and Justin Bieber’s “Love Me” came up randomly on my iTunes? 11? 15? 18?

I have the mentality of an 11-year-old. But I digress. A week ago–I quit my dream job at an advertising agency and now I’m a flight attendant. I have the mentality of a 55-year-old lady hitting a mid-life crisis without the Porsche.

In reality, I’m 24-years-old, have a well-rounded college education and I’m fully capable of making my own decisions. In which case, I have chosen to behave like it’s 1960 and all I want to do is travel the world wearing nylons and a scarf around my neck…do something crazy and stroll through security at an airport with a flash of a badge to see the world and obtain some adventurous writing material for my Moleskine notebook. Read More »

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Just a typical college ACB thread

Tailgating on the cheap

Do’s and don’t of bringing a laptop to class

Unusual careers for college grads

4 habits you should adopt in college

Best places to study

Dive bar or trendy bar?!

Should she apply to an out of state school?

How to get more exercise in college

Life lessons from a college drop out

28 ways to clear an over-worked mind

Only 2.5 more days to the weekend. Only 2.5 more days to the weekend. That’s it. It’s almost here.

Not that it matters. It’s not like my weekends are filled with True Life marathons and mid-morning naps anymore. With the end of the school year creeping up on me, I’ve got papers and reading and tests up the wazoo. I’m so stressed and tired that I just used the term “up the wazoo.”

I’m sure we’re all aboard the sinking ship, SS Stress Ball, so let’s take our midweek break and play a little “Would You Rather.”

Would You Rather be offered your dream job tomorrow OR meet your dream guy tomorrow?

Things to Consider: getting a job in this economy, getting a dream job in this economy, snuggling on the couch with McDreamy.

Read More »

I love everything about Mardi Gras. It’s one of those days that makes day-drinking on a Tuesday completely acceptable and encourages us to eat the most disgustingly greasy (read: most delicious) food that we can. Whether or not you participate in the religious side of the event (it’s a chance to eat whatever you want before Lent starts), we can all agree that a day dedicated solely to partying and indulgence is heaven sent.

But one thing I’ve never understood about Fat Tuesday is the new tradition of women flashing men for plastic beads. There is a good history behind the beads–in the 1960s beads, along with other things like doubloons and small toys, were thrown from parade floats. But when, and why, are women showing their t*ts to strangers for them?

I mean, I guess I get it. Women have been using their sexuality to get things for ages; if showing a little more cleavage didn’t get me free drinks at bars, I would wear a t-shirt every night out. But really? Giving away the goods for some plastic beads that cost $1 for 50 strands? I’d rather save my boobies for something else, buy myself some beads, and call it a night. Plus, there are cameras everywhere and ending up in a compilation like this would make great conversation around campus.

Sometimes though, there are opportunities out there that are worth showing off what your momma (or Heidi’s fave plastic surgeon) gave you; here are five things we’d definitely flash for. Read More »

What will make you feel like this?

It’s sad but true, but when it comes to jobs there is often a big disparity between what will make us rich and what will make us happy. Just ask all those recent grads making six figures at their finance jobs; I can guarantee most of them are not all smiles after 90-hour work weeks.

The problem (especially in this economy) is that people are more concerned with the ching ching than those warm fuzzies they get when they’re doing something they love. I totally get it; money is a great thing and I know from experience how crappy life is when you’re makin’ nothing. (I swear, I was about 2 quarters away from being homeless on the streets of NY at my first post-college job!) But what about your happiness? Does that count for anything?

This week I asked my writers – many of whom will be off looking for real jobs in the near future – to take a break from the bustle of their lives and think a little bit about their futures.

If happiness were the nationals currency, what job would make you rich?

Makes you think, doesn’t it?
What’s your answer? And how different is it from the path you’re actually on? Let us know in the comments! Read More »

I think every little girl one day dreams of being a fashion magazine editor. The glamour, the celebrity and the image that comes along with it is pretty damn appealing. Not to mention, writing and editing pieces on designers, beautiful clothes, shoes, bags … for some of us it would be a dream-come-true.

And then that little girl watched the season premier of Stylista last night and her dream was shattered. Caddy bitches, huge egos, image scrutinization, drama, drama and more drama — this all defines the fashion industry. A thick skin (and a pair of skinny jeans) is what you’ll need to survive.

Now as someone who isn’t really into the fashion thang, I found last night’s show ridiculous and comical.

First thought, “Who the hell names their child Cologne?”

Second thought, “Ew, Megan’s a bitch.” Keep in mind, this stance was established within the first 3 minutes and grew to, “Ew, I hate Megan AND Dyshaun.” (I think I’ll refer to these two awful people as the “Bitch Twins” from this point forward because somehow they fell in love with each other’s down right nasty personalities.)

Third thought, “Anne Slowey walks funny in her shoes. Shouldn’t fashion editors be high-heel masters? I know I am.” Read More »