To most, summer means reuniting with hometown friends, hosting backyard barbecues with beer pong, and traveling around the world with the college budget out of sight. But for me, this past summer meant going home to jobs, internships and the tiny closet I haven’t used since high school. The three months of being at home again would be the longest period of time I would be living under my parents’ roof (and rules, again) since coming to college, which meant three months without going out, partying and/or anything else of college student fun.

It also meant three months without sex. I’m not a nympho, but I do have a functioning vagina. So it was a loooonnng summer.

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One of the best parts of summer is how it changes the dating game, hands down. Instead of having to desperately duck into a random cafe so you two don’t become walking icicles, or having to cut your date short because of that research paper that you should have started, you know, yesterday, you can spend hours at an outdoor fair! Or spend the day playing some fun outdoor sport! Or even take long, leisurely walks on the beach at night.

No, seriously, I’m in Miami and people do that. Delightful, right?

All the benefits of dating in summer are great for another reason: my friends have tons of hilarious stories to tell me! Which got me thinking…

Would You Rather go to the bathroom at the end of an amazing date and realize your nipple had been showing the whole time thanks to your new low cut top OR realize you sent your fantastic date a text, meant for your best friend, describing all the graphic things you wanted to do to him? Read More »

It’s Wednesday and despite the fact that I can’t move any of my extremities without crying (why oh why did I decide to swim laps last night?!), things are looking up. It’s sunny outside, I have a buy-one-get-one coupon for Subway, and The Hills is back on TV.

It’s a happy, happy day.

And now, the icing on this delicious cupcake of a day, it’s time for some Would You Rather…

Would You Rather have uncontrollable, loud gas at your first dinner with your boyfriend’s parents OR find out that your parents snooped and read every text message in your phone? Read More »

It’s Wednesday so you know what that means: another person has been sent home from The Biggest Loser ranch. And, holy hell, that was some serious drama. What is up with the green team? Why are they so mean? Someone needs to sit them down and force them to watch a Titanic, Notebook and Green Mile marathon until they crack and show some damn emotion. I’m not sure if I hate them or the red team more. Or that nasty brown team from the last couples’ season.

OMG, did I just go on a mega Biggest Loser tangent? Wow. I need help. What I meant to say was that it’s Wednesday which means it’s time for another exciting round of Would You Rather….

So let’s forget about The Biggest Loser for now and think of something a little happier (even if it’s far off in the future for many of us). Give us your vote and share your reasoning in the comments. Happy Hump Day!

Would you rather pee on your guy out of excitement when he proposes OR throw up on him out of excitement when he proposes? Read More »

The night started out pretty normally. I enjoyed a cocktail (read: lots of vodka with a splash of soda) while getting ready (read: in the shower), put on some makeup and a cute outfit and headed out for the evening. I was meeting up with a friend, her newly serious boyfriend and his friends for a night on the town. Cute friends. Very cute friends.

I’m not going to say I was expecting to find someone to make out with, but I did wear matching bra and undies just in case. I even shaved my legs.

When I got to the bar, everyone was already seated, so I squeezed in next to one of the boys and settled in for a night of pitchers. Lots of pitchers. Two hours and about 100 games of Quarters later, I felt a hand on my thigh. I looked up and saw Boy smiling at me. I mentally high fived myself for going with the uber low-cut shirt then rested my hand on top of his. Read More »

It was the first party in our new house. Our boxes weren’t even unpacked yet, but our new neighbors (who all happened to be very cute boys) were having people over so we thought we’d join in too. I rifled through my duffle bags to find a low-cut shirt and a pair of jeans to wear, dabbed on a bit of makeup and was ready to mingle with my new friends.

Fast forward 3 hours and I’m drunk and wading in a kiddie pool (that just happened to show up on my porch) with a guy I didn’t know.

“Uh, I’m gonna go downstairs and dry off….” I slurred as I attempted to stand up.

“Want some help?” He responded. Always being the one to have to work for booty, I was excited by how easy he was making this.

“Sure.” I wanted to be demure, mysterious and sexy, which I’m sure I was as I tripped out of the kiddie pool, thus exposing my thong to the entire porch.  Still, he followed me inside and down to my basement lair. My bed was covered in boxes and clothes that I attempted to seductively brush aside. And was unsuccessful. I ended up with a giant paper cut up my arm and 15 broken picture frames that dumped out of a box as it hit the ground. Read More »