Lately I have begun to notice a strange phenomenon among college students. This phenomenon I speak of is far more intriguing than our ability to eat anything if 50% or less of its surface is covered in mysterious fuzz. It is also a lot stranger than our crazy sleeping habits, or classroom attire (scrubs, a t-shirt and no bra…clearly not on the runways in Milan).

I call this the “Relationship Identity Crisis” and I am sure you all know exactly what I am talking about.

Example: I was studying for finals with a cute boy in one of my classes, and by “studying” I mean “pretending to do work so I could sit near him and show him how cute I am”. As we sat by the warm glow of his wall-mounted tap light he began to tell me a story.

“…blah, blah, blah, girl I’m kinda seeing, blah, blah, blah.” I couldn’t hear the rest of the story due to the loud shattering sound coming from my chest. Read More »

I did it. At 2:48 this morning, I posted my first Missed Connection on Craigslist. I feel a little creepy, a little dirty and strangely exhilarated.

I have been addicted to the Missed Connections for some time now. I read them every night hoping I’ll recognize myself in one of them, but there’s never been anything remotely close to a description of me or a situation I’ve been in. But I mean, I probably have, like, seventy missed connections per day that I don’t even realize I’m having.

That’s why they’re missed connections, right? And they just fall by the wayside, into the missed connection graveyard, never to be thought about again. So I figured in this instance I’d take action.

And why not? I’m positive it’s not going to work. My M.C. was with a waiter at a popular coffee hangout near me who said he liked my shirt. Yeah, yeah. He probably likes every girl’s shirt if it means a bigger tip. I put two quarters in the tip jar! That’s half a load of laundry! This relationship is really heating up. Read More »

Okay so over the years my mom has nagged, yelled, lectured and given me advice more times than I can count.

Whether it be a problem with a friend or the way I am folding my laundry, my mom has something to say about it. I often roll my eyes or tune her out, but tonight I had an epiphany. I found myself five times saying “my mom always says….” Clearly my Momma knows what she is talking about! I bet yours does too (at least more than we give them credit for)

So in light of Mothers day coming up (and still no perfect present in mind) I thought I’d share a couple of my mom’s life lessons that I have found to be oh-so-true.

Mom’s Life Lessons

1.“Guys always think with their little heads not with their big ones” Read More »

College is amazing for many reasons: no parents, no rules, no problem with binge drinking. My favorite thing about college, however, is its own unique set of guidelines that every college student follows. These rules have nothing to do with bedtimes or chores; no, these rules have to do with pick up lines and whores. These rules tell us when it is acceptable to pick someone up, how we do it, and when we know for sure that we won’t be headed home until the following morning.

Even more, these laws that we live by tell us that an early morning stroll in heels and runny makeup is completely acceptable, as is asking someone to “come see my brand new…uh…slipper” in his or her room.

One of the hardest rules for me to learn and perfect was the It’s-Gonna-Happen law. Bringing guys home was always a problem for me (beyond just finding a way to lure them into my lair of love) because there was always an excruciatingly long period of time between crossing the threshold into my home and ripping the clothes off of the other person.

I would find myself filling this silence with lines such as, “So, you like cheese?” or attempting flirtation with a, “These pants are getting a bit uncomfortable” followed by a seductive lip-pout and wink maneuver. Read More »

It pains me to admit this, but last year — during midterms, no less — I obtained a copy of He’s Just Not That Into You and read it, cover to cover and back again. And wept.

Well, maybe there were no physical tears, but for a good month after reading it I walked around in a cynical fog, thinking about all the guys who were obviously not thinking about me because they were not contacting me. I mean, there are just some days (cough, months) when my cell phone doesn’t ring, when my Facebook profile grows gray hair and tumbleweeds roll across my Myspace page. I’ve accepted it. It’s FINE.

But for those odd, golden days when a little bird with a message flies across the computer screen or I receive an ambiguous text message from my study buddy in American Cultures, I’ve devised a pyramid of interest – indication in relation to methods of contact other than talking face-to-face (which is soooo 1922) to help myself sort through this mess of modern communication. What does it all mean? Does he like me??? Let’s see! Read More »

Yesterday was the first real day of sunshine and warmth that my college experienced since probably last August. The lawns were littered with tanning co-eds anxious to soak up those rays we missed so much during the long winter months. I did partake in the lawn relaxation session with some of my friends as well, and ran into an interesting situation.

A boy with a cute little terrier puppy passed us on the sidewalk and all of the girls oohed and awwed over the tiny creature. Upon hearing our reaction, he came over and let us pet and play with the puppy. While interacting with the dog, we also found out about him; what year he was, where he was from, where he lived, etc. and he asked about us. A great way to break the ice and possibly the easiest pick-up for guys. I watched Drama and Turtle use this tactic on last week’s entourage, and now have experienced it first hand.

But, it may not always be authentic. What if that dog wasn’t even his and it was just a sneaky ploy to talk to chicks? Well apparently some guy in D.C. saw the potential to make money on puppy pick-ups and offers his services for pay.

Read More »

The bro and I are both busy students. We don’t talk often, and when we do, it’s usually something like:

“Mom told me to call you.”

“Cool.”

“What are you doing?”

“Cooking chicken on my Foreman Grill.”

“Cool.”

Admittedly, not very interesting. But every once in a while, we get into discussions over the trusty AIM, when both of us are either too exhausted to work or too stressed out to type another academic sentence, that go above and beyond my brother’s grilling expertise. He’s a good liaison into the male mind and often has straightforward things to say…that is, when he’s not playing computer games…or eating…or watching the Cartoon Network.

Today’s discussion? Porn.

(21:42:)Me: why do dudes like Girls Gone Wild? What’s the allure?

(21:43:) The Bro: normal men don’t because normal, smart men realize pornography is free

(21:43:) Me: but how did it become so famous?

(21:43:) The Bro: …its not as famous as it projects itself

(21:43:) Me: why would someone watch a girl with most of her clothes on when he could watch a totally naked chick? Read More »

I want to preface this article by saying I’m sure there are tons of guys out there who know what they’re doing in the bedroom, especially when it comes to using their hands and fingers. I’m sure you’re out there boys and I salute you.

But I have not met you.

There is an epidemic that has got this planet in a chokehold. An epidemic so severe I think Al Gore should take it on as his next big project. He’d sell a lot of tickets to the documentary, and it’d make him real popular with the ladies—not to mention the secret hero of all the dudes.

What is this epidemic, you ask?

Why, it’s the Un-education of the Finger.

We are teaching the men of this world to respect women, give them power, give them love, but what we’re leaving out is the very vital lesson of…female clitoral stimulation.

In all my travels, I have not come across one lad who had any real knowledge of what his initial ‘handiwork’ felt like. I’m sure, if they had known, they would have never let such an atrocity continue. Once one-on-one sex education classes were held, everything turned out fine. But in the beginning? …mechanically horrifying. Read More »

Slut. Whore. Easy. Lush.

No, not listing my nicknames. Just writing down a few adjectives usually used to describe girls who get around. Girls who aren’t rigid when it comes to sharing a bed. Girls who are getting more ass than a lot of us.

I grew up whispering those names just as much as everyone else around me. She’s such a slut! I’d say, watching some chick walk down the hall. Apparently she went home with him, I’d sneer, doesn’t it bother her to be so easy?

But then I grew up a little, got out of a long term relationship, and found myself in the shark infested waters of New York City. Dating here is basically akin to pinball; people bouncing off one another until they land inside a nice cozy pocket and rotate around for a while, or bang off obstacle after obstacle, never getting anything more than a headache. Finding a strong relationship here is like finding a pair of shorts that actually make your legs look good.

(Okay. Two analogies in a row. Onward.)

The more I started dating, and the better I got to know myself, the more I started to question those tricky adjectives. In the year 2007, we’re still calling girls who like sex sluts, while guys who like sex are just…guys who like sex? What’s so bad about liking sex anyway? What’s so bad about sleeping with a lot of guys? Read More »

I’ve been single for a while. And when I say single, I mean…not in a relationship. I’ve had things. We’ve all had things. But things eventually go down one of two streets; Boring Lane or Sucky Road.I can usually tell the difference between a thing and something cool within the first five minutes of being out with someone. Even when my head is telling me to ‘give it a little while!’ my instinct is already walking out the door. Either there’s a spark or there’s not. Either I feel something when I’m around him, or I just feel annoyed.

Admittedly, I’m a picky gal, and try as I might, I can’t settle for anything less than awesome. Why should I? Why should anyone? I’m sure some great philosopher once said something like, “life is short, why chill with losers?”, and I can’t think of any reason to argue with such a statement.

The combination of being single and liking adventure, but being picky as hell, has led me on a lot of first dates. Some of them have been hilarious. Some have been uncomfortable. And some have just been bullshit. (“I don’t know why girls think a guy should pay for anything” an asshole once said within 10 minutes of meeting me, “I’m a starving artist. I’m not into paying for things.”) Read More »