Question?! Answer: Ask Tuffy Luv.

Dear Tuffy Luv,

When I graduated from college, I told myself that I was never going to behave the way I had for the past four years. Especially since I was no longer going to be attending Thirsty Thursdays, Wasted Wednesdays and Tipsy Tuesdays, and there weren’t horny boys lurking around every corner. Essentially, ‘hooking up,’ in all of its glory, was taking a gracious bow out of my life.  And I accepted it. I was ready to burst into the world of dating, cute little kisses at my doorstep, waking up at 8 am alone and never again embarrassing myself when I walked home wearing a tutu and a Run DMC shirt.

My new mature self truly believed hooking up was for immature people who peaked in college. But not me. I was now an adult and completely grown out of my college meet-a-guy-in-the-corner-and-hump-him-against-a-wall self. Now I’d meet men in grocery stores and in passing on the sidewalk near the cigar shop. (What am I, 50?! Whatever, I saw it.) I had a little fantasy land in my mind where I would meet my knight in shining armor, he would work with numbers, wear a suit and have a passion for life so thick and deep, I would not be able to see the end of it.

I had no time for immature boys who wanted to spoon with me on a futon after we took red headed slut shots together at the bar and talked about Jurassic Park because it was “oh my gaw, so totally our favorite movie in grade school!”  I had no time for the silly guilt I’d feel the next morning until I smoothed it over with my girlfriends. And I had absolutely no tolerance for deciding mid-makeout sesh that I’d rather be eating a tortilla with cheese in my own bed.

But there is a soft twist. A soft “I’m-definitely-fooling-myself” twist (Mmm, anyone else totally want a Wetzel’s Pretzel right now?): I still wanted it.  I still wanted the excitement, the fun, the great stories in the morning. And it felt so wrong.

So I made it right. By no longer referring to my craving as “hooking up.” It’s so vulgar and expired! Post-grad Brittany doesn’t hook up, she has  ‘grown-up sleepovers.’

The problem with a grown-up sleepover is that it looks a lot like a college hook up, only in business casual attire. Whereas the hookup occurred between the hours of 2 and 8am, the sleepover can start as early at 10p.m. on a Friday. (What? Working a full week is exhausting!) And unlike the college hookup where you could opt out of Friday classes to stay in bed and snuggle with your buddy all day, the grown-up hookup comes to an abrupt end when that 6am alarm clock goes off and you gottta get up, get your English muffin and mango butter on, and fly out the door for your early morning staff meeting.

Also, did you know taxi cabs are a little bit harder to get when it’s 10 a.m. on a Sunday morning…in the suburbs?  Did you know that the walk of shame when you aren’t in college is a little more embarrassing, based on the fact the average age of the people around you are six years old or fifty plus? Did you know EVERYBODY goes to church on Sunday when you like to skip back to your apartment in wooden heels and a bedazzled shirt from Express?  Did you know that people are up and jogging at 8am on a Saturday (which used to be your safe time because no college student was ever out of bed before noon)?

Yeah, I didn’t either. But my adult self does.

And you know what else I know? That the only thing worse than waking up next to someone you know you shouldn’t be having sleepovers with is waking up and realizing that your post-grad liver can’t metabolize alcohol like it used to. Not only is morning fun out of the question (it’s hard to get it on with a little man jackhammering on your brain), but it’s hard to look cute and put together when you’re curled up in the fetal position and groaning about purple Gatorade.

But despite all that, at its core, the grown-up sleepover really doesn’t look so different. Post-grads still pick up people in bars, make out in bars, and later avoid one another in bars. There are still ridiculous stories, guys who have no idea what they’re doing, and that moment of fear when you wake up in the morning and have no idea what you’re going to wake up next to. The bottom line is: the only difference between and undergrad and a post-grad is a diploma. And having that little piece of paper doesn’t automatically turn you into some refined, classy, mature adult.

But I can still pretend, right?

Lesson 14: Sometimes a hookup is just a hookup.

So after a few too many neon blue shots, you’ve let yourself throw caution to the wind and you’ve found yourself in a pretty disconcerting position with your crush or even worse, a guy friend. In the heat of the moment, you’ve shared a steamy night with a guy that’s got you reelin’ for more, not just physically but emotionally, too.

You start to let your mind wander all of the places you’d never let it before, maybe because he was always just a good friend or because you finally got some kind of response from the crush you’ve had for what feels like forever now. While you’re probably not picking up bridal magazines, unleashing all your crazy, you can’t help but wonder what the two of you could be like together, even if you already know it could never work out with him.

Blame it on the female tendency to attach emotion to sexual activity, but there are just some of us girls out there, who cant help but overthink something as primal and physical as hooking up. No need to be ashamed – after all, it’s only natural! And why shouldn’t you connect sexual activity to emotion? For many girls, sex is a deeply personal thing.

However, when you’re a single girl, sometimes a hookup is just plain and simply that – a hookup. Not every guy you kiss is going to be a prince or your next Noah from The Notebook, and just because you let a guy in physically, doesn’t mean he’s looking to let you in emotionally. Somewhere along the way the scale got a little off balance while most men typically view hooking up as a purely physical act and women search for some kind of emotional extension after.

I’m not by any means stereotyping girls as emotionally needy; there are definitely a lot of girls out there who can view sexual activity as just another source of pleasure and don’t need to make it mean more than it does. But as women, our minds can’t help but wander down the relationship path even if only for a split second.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in single career, it’s that sometimes a hookup is simply a blip on your dating radar. Don’t beat yourself up if nothing emotional comes of a late-night hookup. Not every guy you hook up with is going to be your next boyfriend or even your next date for that matter. If you expect a text or call the next day, I admire your hope and faith in the college dating pool, but don’t tear yourself apart if it doesn’t happen.

Above all, don’t ever feel guilty for giving in to a guilty pleasure hookup just because you don’t spend the next day in a full-on, non-stop texting flirtation with the guy. Take it with a grain of salt – some hookups turn into more and some don’t.

What are the first 13 rules of the Single Girl Society? Click here to find out!

You’re at a house party or a bar… or in line to get into a house party or bar. It doesn’t matter. Wherever you are, you’ve just spotted a very handsome boy and you want to talk to him. You turn to your friends and point him out.

“OMG, girl, he IS hot. Go to him,” they say. Then you spend the next 5 minutes debating the best conversation starter/reapplying lip gloss/yanking your shirt down a wee bit lower to show off the girls. When everything is in order (“Do I have anything in my teeth??” you ask your friends as you flash a big, toothy smile), you move in.

Due to some extreme Power Houring before leaving the house, your friends are feeling rather rambunctious. As you make your way to get a drink, they shove you into the boy. Not part of the carefully laid out plan, but that move has been known to work wonders in the past.

You grab the boy’s arm (which feels nice and muscley through that button-down shirt of his) and apologize for your friends. He smiles at you. [Swoon.] You offer to buy him a drink to replace the one that spilled when you fell into him. He offers to buy you one instead.

It’s already working.

While waiting at the bar for a bartender (any bartender) to look your way, you start chatting with the boy. You get his name (which you may or may not forget .25 seconds later), his major, his hometown….the usual. Then you start chatting about more important things, like why Vodka and Soda is better than Jack and Coke any day.

As time passes, you start getting a bit closer. First, he rests his arm next to yours on the bar as you sip your drink. Then he puts it around you as someone passes by. When you walk away from the bar, he puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you. When you bump into his friends and start talkin’, he puts his arm around your shoulder (and you put your hand on the small of his back). Then he starts rubbing your back….

Then his tongue is down your throat and he’s nibbling on your ear in the back corner by the bathroom. And you are getting goose bumps/weak in the knees.

You silently celebrate your success as you debate what to do with the full drink in your hand. You pull away for a second, put that sucker down and start running your hands through the boy’s hair.

While making out in public is completely socially acceptable in college watering holes, knowing your friends (and the rest of the bar) are watching from the corner skeeves you out. You ask the boy if he wants to go. You both pound your drinks, you not-so-seductively wipe the inevitable drips off your face with the back of your hand, then he grabs your hand and you head back to his place… where you wake up 6 hours later under a dirty sheet listening to him snore.

—

Yeah, we’ve all been there. If we were smart, we stuck around for a morning romp. If we were lucky, we got a ride home. If not, we stuck our bra in our purse, wiped the mascara from our cheek and did the run/walk home as we attempted to avoid snickers from strangers on their way to class.

Dear Dude,

I’m in my first year of college, and there’s this one guy in one of my classes that I like. We aren’t what I’d call friends yet, but I’m working on the whole ‘getting to know him’ thing. So one night last week, he, I, and a couple of friends from the class went for a drink. We were discussing hair, and I was recounting a bad haircut received in my earlier youth. He replied ‘well, your hair looks really great now; you’re one of the most attractive girls on our course.’

…WTF, Dude!? I nearly choked on my drink! It literally came out of nowhere. I figured I’d just continue the becoming friends process, with few flirtations here and there. I must admit, however, I am completely terrible at flirting (I have never consciously flirted with somebody, let ALONE had a boyfriend) but I tried my best, and I thought I was getting some positive feedback…. He calls me sweetheart, I thought there was a bit of the eye contact flirty thing going on, there’s been a few more compliments, and he’s invited me to a few places. (Although with friends.)

A few days ago, we went out to a club, and I thought here was where something could potentially happen if we were all drinking. (That’s the way we all do it, right?)  Alcohol flowing through my veins, I attempted once more to be friendly, and sorta danced with him…. and…..nada. He didn’t reel back in horror, but I didn’t get the reaction I was hoping for. Same sorta thing as before, but nothing incredibly obvious. Disheartened, I tried to cover myself the day after, and blamed the alcohol.

Have I completely jumped the gun here? Because in my book (however limited) guys don’t tell girls they’re the most attractive girl in their class (which isn’t true, we have a professional model in or midst for goodness sake!) unless they’re into them.

I’ve asked my guy and girl friends for advice, and opinions on the matter are firmly divided. Some think he in into me, others think he was just paying me a friendly compliment. (Even when we weren’t really friends!) So…what should I do? Am I reading too much into this? Is he into me? What the heck is going on in this boy’s head?!

Sincerely,
Mindf*cked

Dear Mindf*cked,

All we are is dust in the wind… (to clarify this is more of a Supernatural reference than to the song by Kanasas) Translation: Yes, you’re making too much out of it. Way too much. Like, Thanksgiving stuffing too much.

I’m going to have to reveal an ugly truth to you, my young and inexperienced friend: guys flirt with girls they aren’t interested in. We’ll test the waters. We’ll throw a backhand compliment to put someone at ease. Sometimes it’s us just practicing our own skills with someone that we don’t feel any pressure from. Douchey? Yeah, I’d say to a point it is. Is that what this guy did with you? I’m a little John Kerry on it myself.

On the one hand, he’s invited you out a bunch of times, on the other he isn’t exactly responsive to any of your drunken gestures. Of course, part of the reason might be because he’s a nice guy  (they do exist, you know) and didn’t want to take advantage of someone who was drunk at the time. Another reason might be because he is building you up as a friend. Yet a third is that he’s still deciding for himself what his intentions are.

So where does this leave you? Well, it sounds like you’ve entered Obsessiveville, population 1. I’d take a step back and chill the f*ck out or you’ll just keep mindf*cking yourself.

The beauty of overanalyzing is creating an importance on things that might not be important resulting in neglecting things that might actually be IMPORTANT! You’re a FRESHMAN for goodness’ sake. If you get hung up on one guy now, how many others are you excluding yourself from? How many other opportunities to actually having fun are you ruining because of your obsessing? It doesn’t sound like he’s mindf*cking you, it sounds like he’s just a guy who’s clueless as to how fragile your self-esteem is and that his every whim you’re translating into a fight or flight emotional response.

RELAX. Stop trying to “play games” and just freaking live your life with the people you have in it. It can be fun to wonder with your girlfriends whether a guy is into you or not but you’ve passed the WARNING: HIGHLY FLAMMABLE sign a ways back.

You can do a couple things. Flat out make a move. Then there’ll be no ifs, ands, or maybes about the situation. Or start opening your eyes wider again and see who else is out there in those clubs and in classes. You’ve got your whole college career, not to mention your whole LIFE ahead of you; why waste so much energy into waiting on someone else to make it clear to you what his feelings are? Don’t try to Sherlock his every smile. Sh*t or get off the pot.

Trying to save you from four years of crazy,
Dude-Mart

[Don't you just love him? Wish you could get more? You can! Check out The Dude's other insights into the male mind right here.]

It’s no secret that alcohol changes people. After a night of drinking, we’re often surprised by what we may or may not have done during a night of debauchery. Oftentimes we end up with great stories, but there are also those nights that leave us wondering how the hell we ended up on a stranger’s couch with only one shoe, a purse full of ping pong balls, and 17 new phone numbers in our phone (all listed under names like, “bathroom dude,” “cigarette guy,” and “hgjb52″) .

The truth is, alcohol lowers our inhibitions…and standards…for everything.  We do things when we’re drinking that we’d never, ever, in a million years consider when we’re sober (like mixing ranch dressing and brownies).

Here are five of the most common things that are oddly tolerable – and even preferred – when the booze is flowing through our systems:

The beer pong ball – Has anyone actually realized how unsanitary this thing is? Although no one EVER thinks about it when they’re playing, it’s pretty nasty. It’s falling on the floor (oftentimes a disgusting floor that hasn’t seen a mop since the between-tenants-landlord-cleaning) and god knows where else, but because you’re too drunk to notice how vile this is, you don’t care. Somehow it’s all okay because it’s been dipped into a cup of water. The same cup of water that was put there 2 hours before and  has been dipped into hundreds of times by people you may not even know (but may make out with later…)

Frat house bathrooms – As far as sh*tholes (literally) go, these may be the worst. I have been in ones that not only don’t have toilet paper (forcing me to use a crumpled up piece of notebook paper… I don’t wanna talk about it), but also contain a bathtub filled with things one would rather not think about, a sink that doesn’t work, and a door that doesn’t even fully close.  But because your drunk self needs to pee something awful, you will brave the bathroom anyway. And you might even sit, being that squatting takes concentration that your drunk ass can’t muster up. When nature calls, you answer. Even if the response is possibly hazardous to your health.

Creepy people hitting on you – Who hasn’t had this happen? Inevitably, everyone is much more confident when they’re drunk, and they throw caution to the wind. Sadly, this not only applies to attractive and normal individuals but also unfortunate looking and strange people, too. Yet, somehow, you don’t mind. In fact, due to your desire to swindle a free drink or those thick-ass beer goggles you’re wearing, you kinda like it. And may even leave with it…er…him.

Nudity - As a rule, most of us do not feel comfortable when sober to take off our clothes in front of complete strangers. Yet for some odd reason when we’re drunk, it seems acceptable. No, mandatory. Like, everyone just HAS to see my nipples. Need I go on?

Talking about taboo and inappropriate subjects – This is yet another side effect of increased confidence due to alcohol consumption. One begins to think that because they are drunk now would be an excellent time to talk about everything (“Wait, you poop twice a day? I poop twice a week!”) and everyone (“How do you not want to see your dad naked? He’s hot!”). Your sex life? Everyone should know! That time you vomited in your roommate’s closet and played dumb the next morning? Confession time! Your opinions about certain people that may or may not be in the vicinity? Who cares?!

BONUS: Becoming BFFs with that chick you’ve hated for years - Nothing brings out the love like a bottle of booze. She may have stabbed you in the back and made your life hell (or puked in your closet and played dumb the next morning), but now you’re drunk and hugging and you love her so much you just HAVE to do brunch next Sunday.  WTF?

Got any others?

[This story was originally posted by Amanda - Reed.]

Likey? Don’t worry, there are plenty more faves where this came from.

Dear Dude,

I’m a college sophomore and still a virgin.  I’ve had my fair share of “almosts” and do enjoy the occasional heavy petting but I have yet to go “all the way.” I’m not waiting for marriage but I am waiting for a serious relationship with someone I can trust. I used to be confident in my decision (I mean, so what?) and felt no pressure to lose my virginity but lately I’ve been feeling like being a virgin is hurting my chances of finding that someone.

The problem is the handful of boys that I’ve started relationships with in college (emphasis on the word started because it never gets very far) initially say they respect the fact that I am a virgin. However, when that boy finds out that I’m REALLY not going to have sex with him (like never, ever) I don’t hear from him again. And when I try to hide the fact that I’m a virgin guys get mad at me for being a “tease” and disappear, too.

So basically I don’t want to lose my virginity because I’m waiting for “the right” relationship but I feel like being a virgin is preventing me from having ANY relationship. It’s a never ending cycle! Everyone around me is telling me to stick it out and wait for “the one,” but the thought of going through my college career without a real relationship is depressing. So dude, why do guys run away when they find out I’m a virgin? How does a virgin get a guy to stick around? Should I just give it up and get it over with? Or should I start filling out applications for the nearest nunnery?

Sincerely,
Not Necessarily DTF

Dear Not Necessarily DTF,

If you don’t want to lose it, don’t lose it. I’m pro-choice, not just when it comes to abortion or virginity but in terms of life. There’s always a choice. What’s unfair is when it feels like the choice you’re making is depriving you of something you want. Which sounds like the dilemma you’re dealing with.

Guys “run” from virgins for a few different reasons and myths: they don’t feel confident enough to be the sexually more experienced partner (because some of them barely have more than you), they’re afraid that a virgin will be bad in the sack (a harsh judgment, but one many a frat boy has made) and then there’s the responsibility factor. When a guy has a choice of taking a girl’s V-card there’s something in them that provokes the thought, “do I want to be somebody’s first?”

For the guys who don’t want a relationship, they might be scared that being someone’s first will automatically give the girl the impression that they’re in a relationship. In this peon’s brain, sex automatically equals commitment.

Another question of responsibility is whether the guy feels comfortable being the measuring stick for the rest of the girl’s life. They think that’s a lot of weight on their shoulders. Again, this is a guy who is NOT looking for a relationship, just a hook up.

The aforementioned 2 examples are acting out of ego and crappy juvenile knowledge gained at their 8th grade lunch table. Like that Mountain Dew reduces sperm count.

Now there is the opposite type of mental midget: the guy who flocks toward virgins. This specimen loves nothing better than to plant his flag. In fact, he plants his flag everywhere he can and sees it as a benevolent act. This is also a creature to be weary of and avoided if what you want is something serious. Handle with latex gloves and a Hazmat suit at all times.

If you put value on your purity (to use a euphemism straight from Sophocles), then treat it with the appropriate value. I’m not saying keep your standards unreasonably high, demanding an IQ, blood, driving, or DNA tests and having them display a detailed financial portfolio with his 5 year plan outlined in Calibri font. But don’t lose it for the sake of losing it. You’re devaluing yourself and it’s a decision that will nag at you, most likely, for the rest of your life, certainly having consequences on the next guy you get involved with.

Lying isn’t the answer either. I’ve written in other columns dealing with the “should I/shouldn’t I” question that lying denotes shame and you need not be ashamed of being a virgin. There are a lot of people in their early 20′s with their virtue intact. So don’t feel alone.

The best thing I can say is this: those who pressure you for something you clearly don’t want to do are not acting out of affection for you. Negative influences like those needed to be confronted and told to chill the f*&k out and let them worry about their own sex lives instead of yours.

You’ve got to make the decision as to who the “right” guy is. I recommend someone who you trust and makes you feel comfortable. A guy like that is out there and if you’re not finding him, it’s probably NOT just about you being a virgin.

Keeping the torch lit,
Marathon Dude

[Don't you just love him? Wish you could get more? You can! Check out The Dude's other insights into the male mind right here.]

Dear Tuffy Luv,
I have a dilemma. Currently I’m (only) 17 and a junior in high school, though I would like to think that I seem ‘beyond my years.’ At 5’11″, it is not uncommon for adults to think I am older, which can be fun when I’m out on the town with my girls and older guys spark up convos. Lately though, this whole maturity thing has seemed like more of a burden than a blessing. I’m tired of high school; the way teachers still view me as ‘a kid’, the petty drama, and as you can probably guess–the boys.

I have a great group of girl friends who I love so much, and we always manage to cook up some crazy nights out. When I go out with my friends to meet up with guys, they always expect me to get with whoever hits on me. This usually puts me in the awkward situation of being left alone with a Bieber look-alike, trying to form the best pickup line he can muster.

I know that I’m intimidating. I know that I am one of the ‘hot bitch girls who thinks she’s better than everyone.’ But the truth is that I feel so done with it. Most of the guys at my school seem so young, and aren’t very…intellectual. I really love to have actual conversations, no matter how wasted I am, which makes me seem stand-offish to guys who are trying to hook up. The guys who I find interesting are usually people I see being friends with, not hooking up with. At this point I just want to get to know older men, though I am seriously wondering if I might be gay, because I have no interest at all in the guys my age. I am so confused right now, so sorry if this doesn’t make sense. I just don’t see why my friends, who are gorgeous and intelligent, can be open to hooking up with tons of boys, whereas I have to be the one closed off to boys that don’t fit my ‘criteria.’ I would love to be the girl who left all inhibitions at the door, guy-wise. Advice would be great, or just reassurance that this is just a phase.

XOXO,
Men Not Boys

Dear Men Not Boys,

I actually don’t think you’re being unreasonable.

What the floop, I repeat, WHAT THE FLOOP made teenage boys think they can get with any girl they want?! Teenage boys, I’m sorry to break it to you, but you are at the absolute bottom of the dating food chain. You’re nasty. We know it, you know it. So why do you expect every girl you meet to suck face with you?! I want to say, teenage boys, that many of you will grow into yourselves. Someday, many of you will be decent men. Some will even be cool. But teenage boys–I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. But you’re nasty.

Okay, back to you, MNB. Yeah, seriously, totally don’t get with boys you’re not interested in. Seriously, what’s the point?! They’ll have a good time, you’ll be washing their slime off and wishing you’d just hung out with your friends.

But this question has so many parts, and, frankly, I think that’s the least of them.

You’re tired of being treated like a kid. I’m sorry, kid, but you ARE a kid. As long as you’re in high school, you have to understand that you’re gonna be considered a teenager. Because, um, you are one. But never fear!! There are two ways around this:

(1) Act more responsible and mature. That doesn’t mean act like a Know-It-All-Too-Amazingly-Mature-For-All-This teenager (because, and you don’t know this yet, but that is a definite type that the 21+ crowd loves to hate). It means be kind to people, stay cool and composed even when you’re annoyed, and succeed in as many areas of your life as you possibly can.
Or…
(2) Grin and bear it till you leave for college.

I suggest option #1.

But, in the meantime, there’s this third/fourth situation(s), which is (are?!) whether or not you should pursue older men, or if, in fact, you are a lesbian.

Well, honey, it’s okay not to know. Sexual identity is fluid, baby. Just lay back and enjoy the ride.

Which is such a simplistic way of putting it. Okay, maybe you’re a lesbian. Maybe you’re bi. Maybe you’re straight and you just haven’t had enough experience to know yet. Or maybe you’re just bored in high school and want to try something new. (Anyone watch the British “Skins?” Tony?? Yeah???) Any way is fine. Don’t rush into labeling yourself. Enjoy spending time with both genders and don’t get caught up in thinking inside the box. …No pun intended.

[KIDS. DON'T GIVE AUNT TUFFY A HEART ATTACK. ALWAYS USE PROTECTION. Condoms and dental dams and all that, yes?! Here's a pretty fun article on safe sex for lesbians.]

So, okay. Maybe you’re a lesbian, maybe not. Tuffy has no idea. And either do you. And that’s okay. You’re gonna have a good (but safe) time and try things out until you find what’s wrong. But you’re ONLY gonna try it out with people YOU’RE interested in, NOT people who try to pressure you into it, like the boys you mention in your question. You hear me?! Men or women, but only people YOU’RE interested in.

Older men are actually more complicated. This is because, when someone is significantly older, the power automatically shifts in someone’s favor. It might be yours (he’s so entranced by this hot young thing at his side!), but, more likely, it’s his (he has the freedom, he has the experience, and, most significantly, he has the money). I’m not saying to NOT date older men. If you find the right guy, I mean, hey, love is love. But don’t just hang out with any old creepster who offers to buy you a drink. Old guys are often just as skanktastic as young guys–they’ve just had time to get better at hiding it.

But never, ever let anyone tell you that you suck because you want to, you know, actually WANT someone you’re gonna hook up with. This is 2011, girl. You can hook up with whoever you like–IF you want to.

Hearts & Skulls,
Tuffy Luv

[Got anything to add to Tuffy's advice? Let it all out below. Oh, and get more Tough Love right here. You know, if you’re into that sort of thing.]

So you lick the gooey chocolate off of your forearm (how did that even get there?), open up a Word document and start your list of resolutions.

I will complete all of my reading assignments.
…and I will not wait until the last minute to do my reading assignments.
I will not party on weeknights (when I have a class the next day).
I will not eat after 10 pm.
I will make healthier snack choices.
I will workout 6 5 days a week.
I will not hook up with randos…or anyone that I’m not in a relationship with.
I will not wear sweats out of the house anymore.
I will experience the culture of my college town on the weekends instead of watching TV marathons all day long.

Satisfied with the realistically attainable yet positive goals, you save the document, down a few more cookies and go about your day.

NYE comes and goes in a blurry, late-night-pizza filled haze (“THIS IS MY LAST LATE NIGHT PIZZA EVERRRR”) and when you finally wake up sometime near dusk on January 1st, you set your plan in motion. First you hit the gym, then you put on jeans and a sweater to run errands with your mom, including a Staples run to stock up on all the supplies you’ll need for a successful semester. “This isn’t so hard,” you think as you give yourself a mental high five.

Before you know it, break is over (sob) and it’s time to head back to campus. You begrudgingly stuff your post-Christmas thighs into a pair of skinny jeans for the flight back and stare longingly at your favorite yoga pants folded on the top of your suitcase. “No sweats,” you remind yourself. You zip up the suitcase, grab an apple and some almonds for the trip, hug your parents goodbye and return to your college life.

The first few days of classes go swimmingly. You’re looking cute, you’re staying on top of your assignments and you’re even fitting in time between classes to hit the treadmill. You feel awesome and confident that you’re gonna be a better version of yourself this year.

And then, like a tsunami, Thirsty Thursday rolls around. You’re not technically going against your resolutions since you don’t have class on Friday – at least that’s what you tell yourself as you pound a beer before you even get into the shower. But the rest of the night gets a little blurry and the next thing you know, you’re waking up next to not only a random, but a random with moobs. Who is clutching an empty pizza box. And by the way your stomach is feeling, the contents of said box are in your stomach. Dipped in ranch.

Instead of getting ahead on your reading for the week, you spend the rest of the day in bed with a bag of Sun Chips, getting up only to put on sweats and run to the corner for some Powerade and Advil. That Friday morning Yoga class you signed up for? Yeah, the only poses you’ll be doing this morning are the Downward Dog into the Toilet Bowl and Crouching Tiger, Hidden What The Hell Did I Drink Last Night?

And at 6pm, while you’re still lying in bed with the worst hangover of 2011, your BFF texts.

“Hey bitch. Party tonight??”

You know that you shouldn’t. You know there are better, more productive things you could be doing with your time. But you also know you’re only a week into the new year and you’ve already blown every last resolution on your list – what have you got to lose?

“Hell yeah. Let’s power hour.”

—-

Yup. Been there. Done that. Right now in fact. But hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?

I have spent 8 years (not continuously) with my mouth between a dude’s legs, and while I finally know that I’m good at it (one fine young man – whose name I do not know – exclaimed, “Wow! That was good!”), I still don’t love all the work is involved. It kills my jaw, my neck, and I’d rather let the guy handle things on his own than risk lock jaw on a sweaty appendage.

And do I get paid back? Not often. Lots of guys I know and have “interacted” with really aren’t into making the trip downtown on a lady. “It’s so hard!” they say. “You don’t know what we’re dealing with down there!”

Um, excuse me? They think they have it hard (pun totes not intended)?

I decided to take this issue on myself with my favorite IMing male to see if we could work through our problems and come to some sort of truce for men and women everywhere. Will this entice more men to venture South? We can only hope.

Likey? Don’t worry, there are plenty more faves where this came from.