When I was a sophomore I lived in a quad in my sorority house. That meant 4 girls, 45 pairs of jeans and over 100 pairs of shoes stuffed into a very tiny space. With bunk beds. The close quarters were an issue when any sort of studying had to get done (“Can’t you wait until after 90210 is over to start that paper?!”) or heavy drinking was going down (“Dude, there is not enough room in here for you to do the worm…”) but we made it work most of the time.

And then we had a date party.

For those of you who don’t know, a sorority date party consists of asking guys to join you at a bar where everyone gets very, very drunk. Kind of like any other night of the week but with dresses and a photographer.

Anyways, needless to say, my roommates and I got quite intoxicated. Upon returning to the sorority house, everyone proceeded to leave their men outside and completely pass out fully clothed. I was pretty much dead to the world when I suddenly woke up out of my sleep; something smelled really bad. It took me awhile to figure out where I was, why I was still wearing heels, and why there was a slice of pizza in my hand, but when I finally came to I realized that my roommate (whose bottom bunk was a mere 4 inches away from mine) was also sniffing the air with a not-so-happy look on her face. Read More »

Let me take you back to a simpler time: my sophomore year of college. I had recently been dumped by my longtime boyfriend, and after about a month of taking solace in Half Baked and Friends reruns, I was finally ready to put myself on the market again.

I went to a party with my friends and proceeded to get drunker than I had been since my senior prom. A few hours and several sketchy mixed drinks later, a curly-haired boy started dancing with me. He wasn’t exactly my type, but since I was on the rebound and, let’s face it, not exactly in the best position to be making decisions, I went with it. I had never randomly hooked up with someone I had met at a party before, but I was convinced that doing that tonight would make me forget all about what’s-his-face.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Curly told me he was leaving. “Okay!” I yelled.

“The thing is, I want you to come with me,” he delicately screamed over the dulcet sounds of Lil John and the Eastside Boyz’s “Get Low.”

“Okay!” I yelled again. Read More »

Sophomore year I had gone through a bad breakup, things weren’t going so well with my roommate and my grades were plummeting. Long days running my frustration out at the gym and longer nights of drowning my sorrows in alcohol were really wearing down my system. I knew a breakdown was looming, but there was no predicting when or where it was going to happen.

Which was quite unfortunate for me.

I began to hang out with a freshman that I had known from my hometown. He was a good friend and I felt really comfortable with him. One weekend night, we had gone out to a party together and gone back to my dorm room after. My roommate was asleep in her bed and things between us were less than stellar, so me and the boy had to find another place suitable for… Well, you know. Read More »

We all come into college fearing that we won’t make a single friend our freshman year. So I patted myself on the back when I found a group of girlfriends that I fit in with right away. But I realized that these were new friends and could change their mind about me at any minute with no remorse, so I was always sure to be on my best behavior.

One night, we had all gone to dinner at our on-campus bar and restaurant. We were with a few older guys and they were sneaking us beer after beer, and it wasn’t long before I realized that I was three sheets (and 6 beers) to the wind. Doing my best to hold my ground and act like I wasn’t starting to feel that buffalo chicken sandwich churning in my stomach, my friends were surprised when I asked them to accompany me to the bathroom with a look of urgency in my eyes.

Three of us gathered around the tiny stall as I proceeded to barf up my entire meal and then some. They followed the standard friend protocol, holding my hair back and rubbing my back. Little did they know what they were about to witness. Read More »

I was home for another long break from school. I was tired and cranky and sick of my mother breathing down my neck to do my laundry, clean up after the dog and “get my ass out of bed before 11am just once this week.”

In attempts to cheer me up, my brother and his wife invited me to join them that night at a bar event. It was a big Hanukkah party that would be full of all the Jews I hadn’t seen since my high school days. Considering I had lost about 30 pounds and some unfortunate bangs since then, I agreed to go. I wanted everyone to see how sexy and awesome I looked as a more mature college girl.

I put on the hottest outfit I could find (which was difficult considering I only brought pajamas home on this little break), straightened my hair, layered on the makeup and went. My brother picked me up and we spent the entire car ride discussing how awkward this night would be.

“We’re making a beeline for the bar as soon as we get there.” We all agreed. Read More »

It was a normal night of drunken debauchery, probably escalated a little bit due to my freshman girl status. My friend Tess and I had gone on Spring Break with a few senior guys, and we had since attached ourselves to them, thinking we were way too cool to hang out with boys our own age.

Definitely trying to impress the older crowd, we had taken a few too many shots and were hanging outside with the smokers.  Our friend Scott standing with his arms around both of us – me on the left, and Tess on the right, cigarette in her hand. Scott brought us in for a dual hug and the next thing I knew, the cigarette landed squarely in the middle of my forehead.

Did it burn? I have no idea. Did I cry about the hole in my forehead? Probably, but still, I have no idea. All I know is the next morning I woke up face down in my bed, with Tess sleeping at the foot of the bed like a dog.

Read More »

I met Josh* one night in October and thought he was cute. He was tall, had dark hair and eyes, a nice body and dressed REALLY well. (You know boy’s attire can be important, so don’t even deny it.) We met when I was pre-gaming in the dorm, so it wasn’t like I ever knew him when I wasn’t under the influence, and this tends to lead to bad decisions on my part. Very bad decisions.

Post-pre game with the girls (and him) we went out – a frat party, a house party, who really remembers? All I remember is what happened when I got back to the dorm, which I definitely wish I could forget. We ended up having a really drunken emotional talk (while watching Wedding Crashers) and I found out he was a virgin. Was. Until that night. Because all of a sudden, out of nowhere, we were hooking up. And then I swiped his V-Card.

This alone would have been bad enough, but afterwards we were sitting in his bed and he was all “Oh my god, I need to make some calls.” Thinking he was going to grab his phone and tell his roommate he could come back from his sexiling, I moved over to let him get out of bed. Only that wasn’t the call he was making.

He jumped out of his twin extra-long bunk, grabbed his phone and proceeded to call his best friend from home. I know this because this is how the conversation went: Read More »

It was one of the many nights when I should have stayed in and done homework, but decided/was forced to go out with my roommates for a night of belligerence. Standard.

I’d been seeing this guy and I was starting to get over it, but I still wanted him to go out with us anyway. I mean, I needed someone to flirt with/take home at the of the night and he was an easy kill. The night progressed as our nights out tended to: shots, pitchers, mixed drinks, and dancing…lots and lots of dancing. The kind of dancing that you’d rather do naked. And the kind of dancing that inevitably ends to doin’ it naked.

We stumbled our way home and after some drunken snacking on chips, cheddar goldfish crackers, and some random mac and cheese, lovaboy decided to start hinting that he was ready for “bed.”  Since my roommate was fast asleep (Read: completely passed out in a drunken stupor), we decided to do it in the bathroom. Yes, we were a considerate pair; we wouldn’t want her waking up and seeing some naked booty 6 feet away. Read More »

[It doesn’t matter what school you go to, what state it is in, how big it is, whether it is public or private, all girls or coed…there are experiences that all college students share.

No matter how crazy you think your personal situation is, it is not just you. So, let’s bring it all out in the open. Right here. Because you are not alone - we’ve all been there before.]

Oh what a night.

From the pre-party to the bar to waking up next to that that kid from your Psych lecture, it was a good one. A great one. A night that is meant to be shared. A night that is meant to be remembered. A night that requires your roommates’ pictures to help in the remembering.

But, man do you feel like hell this morning. You wake up, throw on some sweats (and throw the boy out), and head down to the kitchen for a much-needed bottle of Gatorade. It’s early – you never can sleep in after a long night of drinking – so you tip toe through the house.

When you stumble down the steps, though, you hear some commotion in the kitchen. You round the stairs and smack into 5 of your roommates, coffee and toast in hand, waiting for you on the couch. Apparently they can’t sleep in either.

One of the girls hands you a mug of coffee. Oh sweet bliss. Read More »

Ever hear a story while drinking and think to yourself, “Wow, that’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard,” only to wake up the next morning and wonder why you laughed in the first place?

This is not a story about that.

Last night, while out with some new friends, I heard a story. A funny story. A story I continued to ask to be repeated for the duration of the evening. A story that is still making me laugh now, after the Advil, bottle of water, and greasy breakfast sandwich.

One of the guys I was with (we will call him Kevin) once met a girl that he liked.  He wooed her all night and was totally smitten. She was intelligent, funny, and had really cute dimples when she smiled. And – score! – he got her number. When Kevin got home later he thought he’d send her a cute text.

“It was great meeting you tonight. You have really cute dimples.”

Unfortunately, T-9 and auto-correct got the best of him. Read More »