Brown fat – everybody’s talking about it. You’ve probably seen it floating around in the headlines, because it’s been a major part of a lot of the latest health research. But what exactly is it?

Simply put, brown fat is fat that is, well, brown. And it does things that sound almost too good to be true – it actually burns calories. And a new study shows that exercise can convert regular white fat into calorie-burning brown fat. Which means that the more you exercise, the more calories your body will be able to burn at all times. Brown fat is also triggered by cold temperatures. When your body is cold, brown fat starts burning calories to warm you up. And it actually uses white fat from other parts of the body to fuel itself.

At first, scientists thought it was only found in rodents. Rodents can’t shiver to keep warm like other mammals do, so it was thought that brown fat made up for that. But about three years ago, researchers discovered that humans have brown fat, too. And now that we know about it, lots of people are starting to wonder if brown fat could be the key to weight loss, especially for people who are really struggling to lose weight. If someone could develop a drug to “turn on” that brown fat, it would be a major breakthrough. Not to mention a cash cow.

But wait a second. Don’t go running outside without your jacket on just yet. These are short-term results, and researchers say they don’t know much about how brown fat behaves over long periods of time. So no weight loss ice baths! For now, just enjoy the knowledge that your brown fat is being activated every time you exercise.

And as I sat down to revel in their renditions of Michael Jackson and Katy Perry’s greatest hits, I was glad to see that the writers had kept Lauren Zizes around even after sectionals. And even more so, I was glad to see that she had a pretty large part in this past Tuesday’s episode.

Here at CollegeCandy we love Glee not just for its cute but oh so dumb boys and awesome musical numbers, but also for what’s at the heart of the show: being true to one’s self. Embracing who you are, strengths and weaknesses, the good and the bad, and taking pride in that. These characters are all underdogs in one way or another but being in Glee helps them to remember who they are, and to be okay with that.

But Lauren Zizes doesn’t need Glee club to help her break out of her shell. She’s a confident, independent, strong, badass woman, and she owns that. And that’s why Puck is crushing on her.

And it’s why we are too.

Because Lauren Zizes isn’t the type of character you encounter on TV every day. Yes, we see strong women, and yes we see “fat girls.” But what we don’t see is a “fat girl” who knows exactly who she is and what she wants, who’s not riddled with insecurities, and afraid to speak her mind. A girl who is confident enough in her body and in herself to not settle for just anyone or anything. She tells Puck, “I’m not desperate so if you really want this you best come correct ’cause I spell woman Z-I-Z-E-S. And I need to be wooed. You understand me? Wooed.”

She’s not going to fall at his feet just because he’s suddenly decided to look her way. He has to earn it, and if he doesn’t want to, she’s okay with that too. And that’s awesome. She likes Puck but she’s also confident enough to know she wants a real relationship and she’s not going to settle for anything less. So they can take it slow, or not at all, and that’s fine with her, because she’s not afraid of being alone.

Which is more than what can be said about Rachel who’s too concerned with Finn to remember she’s a star all on her own, and Quinn who can’t figure out who she is or what she wants if she’s not the Queen B with the star quarterback on her arm. Or even Santana who can’t seem to fathom the idea of being alone on Valentine’s Day. In fact, the only girl on Glee who might rival Lauren in self confidence is Mercedes, who spends the majority of the episode reminding Rachel and Kurt that they don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.

So thanks, Glee. For providing us with a unique, new, and interesting female character. For reminding us what your show is really about. And for remembering that even though “being a part of something special makes you special” you can still be special all on your own.

Somehow you ended up with four 9am classes this semester. WTF? You can barely get up for your kickboxing class at noon on Fridays, and someone expects you to make it to class (ready to learn!?) by 8:50am the rest of the week?

Oh hell no.

You hope your professor doesn’t expect you to look presentable. Hell, he should just be happy you left yourself enough time to brush your teeth. Your morning routine is always the same: you roll out of bed at 8:30, grab the first pair of sweats you can find on the floor, throw your hair into a ponytail and run out of the house. You pop into the campus coffee shop en route to lecture and grab a coffee (“Giant, please!”) and something to munch on (“Give me the butteriest bagel you’ve got back there”).

What? It’s early and you need comfort.

You slide into your seat just as the Power Point appears on the wall in front of you. If it weren’t for the food, you’d probably fall right back to sleep – you’re just so comfortable. When class is over, you go to your next class, or to the library, or home for a nap. Whichever you choose, you sport the sweats for the rest of the day: through the classes, the breaks, the meals…

You spend so much time in your sweatpants during the week, in fact, that when the weekend comes and it is time to wear something that doesn’t say “Pink” across the ass you have trouble getting into them. No, not motivating yourself to get dressed; actually getting into them. After the first few weeks of classes your clothes feel a bit snug but you can still make em work (“I must have shrunk these a bit in the dryer….”). As the semester wears on, however, putting on your going-out-jeans has become a sweaty workout.

When the pants stop moving at your thighs, you begin to pull harder. You grab the belt loops and yank, squeezing your thighs, butt and belly into the denim sausage casing. Then you jump around a bit. Then you lay on the bed and see if that helps. If you finally do get those suckers closed, you start lunging around your room, doing squats, and sitting down to see if the denim gives a little bit.

It does not, but you’ve already tried on every other pair in your closet and these fit the best. You decide they will have to do. You throw on a loose shirt on top (to camoflauge the muffin top), throw back a few more drinks and head out.

Your legs and feet begin to fall asleep at some point in the night due to decreased circulation. You have trouble bending your knees to get up the stairs to exit the bar. Your jeans nearly tear as you sit in the cab. When you finally get home and peel those things off  – and notice the deep red line across your belly – you know you’ve got to do something.

It is then that you vow never to wear sweats to class again; those elastic waistbands are far more forgiving of the donuts, the bagels and the sugary Fraps you fill yourself with on a daily basis. (Note: when sober you also realize that cutting those things out of your diet may be a good idea, too.)

We know how you feel. We’ve all had the sweat pant weight gain before. Just get up for that kickboxing class and you’ll be OK.

It all started with paparazzi, a pair of high waisted jeans, and an unflattering camera angle. Suddenly Jessica Simpson went from mostly forgotten pop-turned reality star to tabloid cover material. Everyone was quick to criticize the star for “getting fat.” But what kind of society would condemn a size-six beauty, when the average size for an American woman is a fourteen?

People can be monsters, and I don’t mean in the Lady Gaga sense. They can be downright vicious to others without even realizing the irreversible damage they cause in the process. Though I keep it hidden away in a corner of my mind, I have a lot of memories of this kind of often subtle ruthlessness. I spent most of my young life as “the fat girl.” This is what I remember.

I remember the rough cobblestone steps leading up to my grade school. I sat on them clinging my green vinyl lunchbox for all of recess when my classmates didn’t want to play with the fat new girl.

I remember how my first grade teacher would scowl and scrunch up her dark eyes when she watched me trying to tie my shoes. “How you struggle!” She sneered. She didn’t realize how much.

I remember how other kids in the school would pass me in the hallway and say, quite simply, “You’re fat.” Cue my self-consciousness forever.

I remember how my teachers would pass out school pictures to the class when they came back from the photographer. I knew I was about to get mine when they tightened their lips and dropped their eyes. Then they’d hand my pictures to me with the clear cellophane window face-down. They were that bad.

I remember how I would bury those pictures in my Jansport backpacks and sneak them in my bedroom. I’d hide them under my bed. So many times I suppressed the urge to tear them to pieces; I would think of how my mother paid for them and feel guilty. Then I would feel guilty that my mother didn’t have a pretty daughter who she could proudly pass pictures of to friends and family.  A couple weeks later, she would find them, a little crumbled up compared to when I got them. I don’t know where most of them are now.

I remember my mother taking me to Sears for new jeans to wear to my fifth grade dance. They were one of the only stores that sold Girls’ size 18.  I remember she bought me a swishy purple top that changed color in the light. Some eyeshadow and lip gloss to match. I remember feeling the excitement that only naïve little girls experience, before their hopes get dashed.

I remember the only boy that danced with me that night — his chaperoning mother made him. He shimmied next to me a few times, always scooting further and further away across the dark gym floor.

I remember the magic of being at my first dance suddenly died.

I don’t remember going to anymore dances after that. They never seemed like fun to me.

I remember I hated clothes shopping.

I remember being  11 or 12-years-old and going to Fashion Bug with my mother. Anytime I tried on anything sleeveless or with tiny sleeves, I’d slide back the lock on the dressing room door hesitantly. “That would look good with a jacket over the top,” my mother insisted. That was her way of telling me my arms were too fat.

I remember just about breaking into a sweat the week before doctor’s appointments and how I counted down the days with dread. I hated stepping foot on the scale.

I remember that my doctors never addressed my problem. “Eat right,” they told me as I slid off the paper on the exam table. Highly effective, to be sure.

I don’t remember how young I was when I tried fad diets like the Hollywood 48 Hour Miracle Diet and Herbal Slimming Tea, but it was too young. Any age is the wrong age for that stuff.
I remember that they didn’t work. At all.

I remember being 5’5” and 199 pounds when I entered high school. I wasn’t big enough to be antagonized by classmates, but I was big enough to be completely invisible.

That’s not entirely true. I remember being in a study hall, trying to help someone with Geometry homework, when I suddenly became conscious of some of the grungy-cool boys making fun of me in the back of the room. They were pretty terrible to me. No one defended me, not even the skinny, preppy teacher. I felt like a trapped animal.

I don’t remember a day passing after that where I felt completely safe or comfortable in school.

I remember for the rest of my high school career I walked through the halls with my head down, fearing everyone’s reproach. I remember how badly the popular people and the badass boys scared me after that encounter. Whenever I heard any snickering whatsoever, my heart went into spasms.

I remember having “friends.” They usually weren’t the other fat kids. They were skinny kids who wanted a fat friend to make them feel better about themselves. Or they were kids who wanted to take advantage of a straight-A student.

I remember pouring my heart into friendships, always generous with gifts, goodwill, and limitless gratitude. I remember most of my friendships ended when I was no longer useful in some way. Then I would be invisible again.

I remember how that would mess with my mind and my heart.

I remember looking at beautiful fields filled with blue skies and tall trees. I wondered how someone as ugly and unwanted as myself ended up in such a place. Why? I asked myself. Why did I continue to exist when everyday people better loved than me were dying?

I remember asking myself that question a lot. In the car. In bed at night. In classrooms filled with whispered conversations and spastic giggling. I didn’t get an answer for a long time.

I remember hating gym class. I wasn’t fast or agile or a jock. I got very red very easily and it was embarrassing.

I remember I would never change in the locker room in front of other girls. I would go hide in a shower stall or a bathroom stall. I imagined how they would harass me as they stood in their sports bras and boxer shorts. To me, everyone’s body was better than mine.

I remember how I tried to change my body from the outside in. I stuffed myself into multiple body shapers, sports bras, and camis before I put on my clothes. The red grooves they would leave on my body day after day were terrible.

I remember when I tried to change my body from the inside out my senior year of high school. I remember I succeeded. Everyone thinks that getting skinny is the fat girl’s happy ending, but it’s not; it’s the second act of a tragedy.

I remember trying on my first pair of Size 1 jeans in front of the mirror. I still thought my arms were too big and my hips were too wide.

I remember all of the people at home who assured me, “You never had to change,” after I lost 80 pounds. I wanted to spit in their eyes.

I remember meeting new people at college, far away from home.

I remember one of my new friends — a fashion major — telling me, “You have a great body.” I almost cried. Whether out of happiness or anguish, I’ll never know.

I remember new friends expressing their jealousy of my size. That never made me feel good.

I don’t remember the exact day I realized using a girl’s weight to extrapolate anything else about her is ridiculous, but I assure you it is.

I remember releasing my forehead to my mat in yoga class and offering up my weight turmoil to a higher power. I couldn’t grapple with it anymore.

I remember when I stopped watching every morsel of food I put in my mouth. A little bit of cream cheese was less detrimental to my health than all of the anxiety I created about being skinny was.

I remember realizing there is so much more to life than worrying about food, but I think the questions of when to eat, what to eat, and how much to eat will recur throughout my life. I don’t think my old anxieties can ever go away entirely.

I remember realizing being skinny didn’t matter to me anymore, but being healthy did. Then I realized they are not one in the same, but that I never wanted to go back to the way I was before. That wasn’t healthy, either.

I remember a healthy mind is just as important as a healthy body, and I let myself put a few needed pounds back on.

I remember when I realized I was beautiful, and even if I didn’t have a flawless body, I had a totally functional one. I liked that better.

I remember when I finally realized that I have the power to make my own happiness, and I haven’t stopped since.

I remember finally getting the long-awaited answer to the question of why I am privileged to live in this world: it’s to tell you that you, too, are beautiful. Never let anyone get into your peace of mind. It’s incredibly difficult to get them out without destroying it.

Though the people that caused my anxiety over the years probably don’t remember what they have said or did, I can never forget. What sort of memories are you leaving behind?

And, of course, studies show that women are at a higher risk for stress-induced eating and consequent weight gain. Blame it on cortisol – probably the suckiest hormone I’ve ever heard of. It’s a stress-related hormone that’s linked to weight gain (especially in your abs!). Cortisol also makes your metabolism slow down and increases your appetite. It ALSO leads to a tendency to consume high-fat foods. Ugh.

There are ways to avoid weight gain and unhealthy habits even when you’re scrambling to finish that paper at 4am the night before. What does a girl gotta do to stay healthy and avoid gaining weight during these super stressful times?

Build a support system.
Friends and family are there for you – feel free to vent! Unloading your stress and frustrations will keep you focused… and prevent you from stress-eating.

Snack smart.
Avoid sugar and caffeine. They’ll seem like a good choice… until you crash a few hours later! And when you’re making your 2am food run, keep healthy snacks closest (front of the cabinets and fridge) so that’s the first thing you see and grab. If you have time to cook, put food away right after you make it so you’re not mindlessly eating seconds and thirds while studying. Also, no matter what hours you keep during exam week, try to keep your eating schedule as close to normal as possible. Eating when you should be sleeping increase your chances of gaining weight.

Take breaks.
It’s been proven that exercise relieves stress, so do it! You don’t have to give up an hour to hit the gym, either. Try meditating and focusing on your breathing for 10-20 minutes. Play music, get out of your chair and dance between chapters. Or, now that the weather is starting to get nice, get outside and take a 10-minute walk. Simply moving around will ease your mind and make you feel better.

What are your healthy ways you cope with stress during finals?

No. A fantasy is stealing Brad Pitt away from Angelina for a night of steamy hot sex. A fantasy is moving to a deserted island with half-naked men fanning you with palm leaves. A fantasy should NOT be holding the world record for World’s Largest Woman, because that translates to poor health and a dramatically shorter life.

There are so many things wrong with this situation. Here are 4:

1. She’s got a daughter
While Simpson actually tries to wolf down enough food to gain another 350 lbs. onto her already obese frame, her three-year-old daughter is still in the picture. Shouldn’t she be less concerned with her goal weight and more concerned with living long enough to see her daughter graduate high school? And the $750 a week eating habit is money that would be better spent on toys, clothes, and outings with her daughter. She might be in the running for a Guinness World Record, but it certainly won’t be for World’s Best Mom.

2. 12,000 calories per day
2,000 calories per day is the way to a naturally healthy weight for most women, and women who want or need to gain weight are usually told to do so in a healthy way, by upping protein intake and what not. 12,000 calories is BEYOND excessive, and would push anyone’s digestive tract into overload. Plus, she’s doing so by eating McDonald’s! She’s literally eating herself to death, exponentially increasing her risk for diabetes, colon cancer, and heart disease.

3. Exhibitionism
In order to pay her weekly food bill that approaches a grand, as mentioned above, Simpson has resorted to the internet where people pay to watch her stuff her face with 70 (seventy!!!!!!) pieces of sushi, among other things. She says, “It makes people happy.” I say, “who are these freaks that would pay to watch someone eat?!”

4. She’s being encouraged
Her boyfriend (who reportedly weighs in at a whopping 150), actually ENCOURAGES her to do this, and said he’d love it if she was bigger. People who love us are supposed to want the best for us, which means being healthy. Cheering someone that you supposedly love on to an early death is not my idea of a healthy relationship!

I’m in no way knocking people who are overweight or obese. I realize that overweight people might be healthy, just as thin people can be unhealthy. But someone who is trying to make herself famous for harming her body doesn’t deserve the spotlight, as far as I’m concerned!

Ladies, in honor of National Eating Disorders Awareness Week, it’s time to ask ourselves, “Do I?” and “Am I?” It’s about looking at our own lives, and figuring out what’s healthy and what’s not.

So, ask yourselves “Do I…”

“Weigh myself every day?”

You are not a number! Letting numbers on a scale determine how you feel about yourself is dumb, but also lets your weight control you. The scale doesn’t know you. It doesn’t see what an amazing athlete you are, what great hair you have, how cute your butt looks in booty shorts, or how much your boyfriend drools over your smile (and boobs). The scale is a number. Which means it’s akin to math and science (EWWW). The scale doesn’t say anything about who you are on the inside. They weigh you when you’re at the doctor’s office anyway, so let your doctor tell you if you’re at a healthy weight or not.

“Skip meals?

Soooo many things wrong with this one! For one thing, skipping meals SLOWS down your metabolism. It will also just make you more hungry later! Your BRAIN needs fuel every 2 to 4 hours throughout the day to stay alive! (at night your body takes care of this, so that you can sleep). Skipping meals also makes you fatigued, and makes paying attention in lecture even harder than normal. Oh and here’s a fun fact: 95% of dieters regain their lost weight in one to five years! Eating when you are hungry, choosing nutritious and balanced options, having your favorite treats sometimes, and exercising because it feels good and is good for you, are the ONLY ways to stay at a healthy weight for your body, naturally.

“Count calories or fat grams every day?”

There was a time in my life when I was counting calories. Do you know how hard it is to figure out how many calories are in 4 red cups of beer, 2 jungle juices and 3 half shots? PLUS chaser? Yeah, waste of time AND energy AND an unhealthy state of mind to be in (the calorie counting, and the hangover). Yes, it is wise to check the nutrition labels on what food you’re eating when possible. Serving size is super important to be aware of, as is the amount of fat, sugar, and vitamins that you’re getting from your food choices. But when this become a problem is when you feel nervous or anxious about eating something until you know exactly how many calories or fat grams it contains. It’s feeling antsy until you can count how many calories you had that day. These habits may be moving you closer to a destructive and dangerous eating disorder!

Our bodies need ENERGY to function! Oh and fat? Fat isn’t bad! Our bodies need approximately 20-30% of your calories from fat every day! When possible, try to make your fats healthy fats, like monounsaturated fats found in olive oil and almonds.

“Exercise because I feel like I have to?”

There’s a difference between dragging yourself to the gym because you know it’s good for your body, and dragging yourself to the gym because you feel a nervous compulsion to work out. Working out is great for your body and mind!! In the immortal words of Elle Woods, “Exercise releases endorphins, endorphins make you happy, happy people don’t kill their husbands. They just don’t.” But when your reason for exercising crosses over from knowing that its good for you to feeling like the world will end if you don’t, then we have a problem. When you start skipping spending time with friends, or are always on your way to or from the gym, or feel like your compulsion to exercise is taking over your life, there may be a problem.

“Am I on my way to an eating disorder?”

If any of these above statements sounded like you, please seek help! Eating disorders are SERIOUS mental disorders that can take over your life and health. Think of all the extra time you’d have, and how much happier you’d be, if you weren’t constantly obsessing over every morsel of food that you put in your mouth, or when your next workout is going to be, or how many calories you burned on the elliptical. College can be one of the most fun and enlightening times in our lives – don’t ruin it by isolating yourself with your unhealthy habits. Have fun, be healthy, live life!

Even if none of the above statements apply to you, think about what you can do each day to improve your own, and your friends’, body images. Challenge the diet industry and media. Say no to discussions about weight, shape, or diets!

And remember, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!

There are a few unspoken rules that make it acceptable for you see your best friend’s (or guy friend’s) bare ass in certain situations: a dare, a (drunken) hookup, a music festival, or on amateur night at a strip bar.

But in the shower? That might be going a little too far, and one Green Mountain College student agrees. Jennifer Weiler, a Green Mountain freshman, is suing her school for a lack of girls-only bathrooms. And homegirl’s making a pretty good case. I mean, I can count on about three fingers the amount of people I know who would feel comfortable stripping down and jumping in the shower with strangers and hall-mates of the male persuasion. Especially if nothing sexual was being followed.

Some say, “Don’t knock it till you try it,” but I’m pretty sure I don’t need to try showering with my R.A. to know it’s not going to go down well.

What if you’re having a fat day (or year)? Even the most perfect looking person still has the occasional insecure moment about his or her body. And even if you don’t, you might not want that random dude from down the hall knowing about the mole on your left butt cheek.

Personal Maintenance. Seeing a guy shave his face is something I find adorable. However, I don’t think I’d want a guy watching me shave my legs in the sink or worse, listen in as I’m doing some mowing downtown.

The Creep Factor. Guys are handsome creatures and I bet there are some you wouldn’t mind being totally naked in front of. Yet, there are some guys known to be extremely don’t-take-no-for-an-answer-no-thanks-I-don’t-want-you-to-buy-me-that-drink CREEPY. Put them in the shower situation and we have a recipe for trouble. The wandering eyes may possibly turn into wandering hands and then you’re avoiding showers all semester. OK, so maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but being naked in front of someone you have a gut instinct to run away from isn’t exactly SAFE-CITY.

Number Two. Besides the showering issue, sometimes that cafeteria food just doesn’t sit well. And running to the bathroom to relieve yourself becomes a pretty awkward situation when the guy from your History class is sitting in the stall next door reading the sports section. And he recognizes your feet.

Boys smell. Call me immature, but it’s true.  Somehow, guys find humor in farting on each other and things of the sort. Being caught in a fart battle when all you want to do is wash your hands is not my idea of a fun time.  That’s why, in public places, they have a room reserved just for the smelly and weird interests of guys. It’s called the “Men’s Room.”

When you’re living in a dorm, there is very little privacy. Sometimes the only alone time you get is standing under the hot water (in your flip flops) in the shower. Is it so wrong that you’d like to do that without fear that you might come face to face with a naked guy?

Somehow I think Chinese delivery was a contributing factor here.

This week I’ve been inspired by ThisIsWhyYou’reFat.com… or my own personal struggle with winter weight. Between the Christmas cookies, Starbucks peppermint mochas and, oh yeah, lifting my drinking ban, these have all caused me to pack on the weight over the past three months. I could not be more annoyed with the term “winter weight,” or having to rationalize that I’m not getting fat, just fluffy.

Which is why the only thing I’m asking Santa for this year is a gym membership.

Here are some of the things that might be unfavorably tipping the scales, particularly in this binge-y time of the year.

10. Brunch
My favorite unnecessary meal of the day. At which almost all items on the menu are dripping with syrup. Not good.

9. Driving
Not exactly caloric, but how many times do you hop in the driver’s seat to a destination that’s walking distance? Or for that matter, pile into a cab when you’re only heading ten blocks away. Bad for the bod and the environment.

8. Late night snacking
Those munchies add up, and if you believe the hype, eating after 8 PM is one of the worst things you can do to your body.

7. Delivery
Not even bothering to get off the couch to get greasy food into your mouth? Pad thai, Domino’s, greasy Chinese food, it doesn’t matter. Homemade food is always healthier, and the stroll around the grocery store will do your body some sort of good. Well, at least more good than keeping the door unlocked and having that poor little delivery dude drop the food at your feet.

6. Guacamole
WHAT THE EFF? Why does this delicious topping have so many calories? Considering it’s made out of a vegetable? Really disappointing.

5. Christmas candy. And cookies. And eggnog. And giant turkey dinners.
Okay, I’ll let this one slide on December 25th, but no holding onto those Christmas candies past January 1st!

4. Lack of sleep
Cramming for finals, partying hard and cramming some more does not make for a healthy sleep cycle. Turns out, losing out on the Z’s can get you packing on the lbs. “Professor, I’m sorry I slept through your 8 AM, I’m just watching my figure right now. I know you’ll understand,” might not work as an excuse, but try and crawl under the covers a few minutes earlier than usual.

3. Boyfriend or Breaking Up
It’s different for everyone and it’s a lose-lose (or I guess a gain-gain). Some people, like me, get super-comfy with their beau and start packing on the pounds when they’re in a relationship. On the flip side, being single can get you dating your fridge. Sigh.

2. Cupcakes
My favorite food and the world’s hottest dessert fixation right now. Red velvet cupcake does not make a good dinner. No, skim milk pairing doesn’t make it any better. Especially difficult when paired with #1 at the hottest new spot in the West Village, Sweet Revenge. Check it out before you have to make your New Year’s Resolution.

1. Drinking
This one is a killer considering tis the season to get wasted on Schnapp’s in order to tolerate your relatives. And then there’s an entire apple pie calling your name. Maybe it’s time to go back to sobriety. Spring break is just around the corner. Woof.