Perhaps it’s the sheer volume of people on one concrete island, or that the people are actually more attractive and put-together. Maybe more of the residents are chemically altered more often throughout the day here. Whichever the case may be, New Yorkers are not at all shy about their catcalls, or “hollas,” if you will.

Granted, I’m from the Midwest. I completely missed out on this whole experience during my teen years. Back home, it’s mostly the sketchy old men in bars hitting on you, or, once you’ve ventured to the undergrad lifestyle, the halfway-to-blackout frat boys who think perhaps their forwardness will reward them with a piece of ass. Too often, ladies, we have caved, be it for lack of self-respect or just for fun. Hey, I’m not judging. Sometimes you just need to hook up.

Some women have never learned how to take a compliment or think anything positive about themselves, I beg those women to come to New York. It’s guarantee that of the eight million people, someone finds you attractive. Read More »

I spent this past weekend reuniting with my college girls in Washington D.C. and it was absolutely fabulous. We spent our days looking through pictures, eating Oreo’s and hanging out and our evenings drinking and dancing at various bars around town. It was just like college, except for one major difference.

One night as I was making my way to the bar to re-stock on some Amstel Light, a tall lad struck up conversation with me. We talked as we waiting in the monstrous line and even after we had procured our drinks of choice. He was cute – tall, dark, good jeans – and I was really enjoying his company. But, even being six drinks in, I knew better than to go home with him when he asked.

I didn’t know who this guy was or what his intentions were. I didn’t know where he lived or what his name was, even!

Therein lies the difference between College Lauren and Post College Lauren.

If I were still in school I would have gone home with that boy in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t have considered the fact that he could be dangerous, he could have STD’s or that anything bad could come from the situation at all. I would have trusted him because he was on my campus – in my little bubble – and why wouldn’t I? Read More »

Most of the summer before my freshman year of college was spent daydreaming about the tall, brutally hot, fun boyfriend I thought I was destined to meet come September.

I soon found out that this “dream boy” didn’t exist. And after a few disappointing months, I found myself thinking lustfully about certain guys from home. You know, the ones who were slightly more predictable than these frat boys, and–the more I thought about it–way cuter.

Screw Mr. Tall, Brutally Hot and Fun.

As soon as first semester was over, I pounced on the boys I’d once deemed passé. GOOD decision.

So, to the rest of you ladies who didn’t find your dream guy at college, I propose that this winter break, you embrace those boys you grew up with. Been there, done that, you say? Well, just check out my top ten reasons to re-romance (slash fool around with) your boys from home. Read More »

It isn’t always easy to find new friends after college.

Unlike freshman year in the dorms, the real world doesn’t provide you with a place filled with hundreds of people just like you looking for new people to drink (and hook up) with. Well, I guess that might happen if you move to Murray Hill in New York City, but for the rest of us that just isn’t a reality.

It seems that most of us make our new real-life friends at work. Which makes sense; we spend so much time at the office (and, oftentimes, need a few drinks afterwards) that it is only natural to get close with the people alongside us. For the most part this is a good thing; there are many times when the only thing motivating you to get to the office is the opportunity to see your buds.

But what happens when things go a bit too far?

Last week I mentioned a friend of mine who explained to me his love for morning sex. Well, that friend also happens to work with me. Actually, I work for him; he’s my boss. Now, this isn’t as creepy as it sounds; he is only 29 and we do hang out socially. But, as I work here longer we get closer and closer the line between personal and professional continues to blur. Read More »

After-hook-up relations are not always easy.

Seeing someone you made out or slept with a few days after the fact can be weird, uncomfortable, and even painful. It can also be awkward with a capital A.

If the experience was extremely unmemorable (or horrible…because that sometimes usually happens), we may even resort to running and hiding behind trees whenever we spy a recent bedfellow (not that I ever did that. I preferred to hide behind bushes. More coverage.).

On small college campuses, avoiding people can become difficult, and many of us probably wish at the very least that we could relate to our hook-ups the way we did before everything went down.

Well, we can!

A few years ago, after hooking-up with and subsequently getting seriously pissed off at a guy when I realized he had a girlfriend, I thought our friendship was over. But I still had to see him every day. So what was I going to do? Read More »

So, I realize that a lot my peers have a strange fixation with this thing called “the summer hook up”. As my friend and co-blogger Sol so eloquently, (actually she just corrected me, it was belligerently) put it;

Solgurl88: IT’S THE SAME THING AS HOOKING UP IN THE WINTER

Solgurl88: how come people never say

Solgurl88: ‘winter hookup!’(?)

I added that question mark in there for ya, buddy. But poor AIM grammar aside, I have to agree with her. A hook up is a hook up, why the classification?

Well, I suppose for people who vacation in a foreign country, or somewhere other than where they normally reside, the ‘summer hook up’ symbolizes the opportunity for a no-strings attached ‘relationship’ of sorts. (Those people are not to be confused with me, I am doomed to work endless summer jobs with either all females or no attractive co-workers for all college eternity.) Read More »

“Whoa, what happened to you?”

It was senior year in college, a Monday morning, and my friend was sitting in class, doing her best (but obviously not succeeding) to hide a very noticeable, very odd black and blue mark on her bottom lip.

“Oh, I…I was drinking out of a bottle and someone bumped into me. It sucked.”

“Shut up!” I said, knowing exactly where she had been last night. “That did not come from a bottle”

“Keep your voice down.” My friend looked around, embarrassed. “To everyone else, it was a bottle. To you, it was Tim. Nothing bad, nothing bad!” She immediately reacted to my raised eyebrows. “We were just making out and stuff…his lips did this!”

“Still, it looks like it hurts…” I couldn’t take my eyes off her mouth. It was so obviously bruised.

“It does kinda. And when we were together it was a little intense…but I don’t know him well! I would feel so stupid telling him to ease up.” Read More »

Ah, Craigslist. I have used you to find an apartment, multiple jobs, a free chair, babysitting clients, and even acting gigs. You’re my portal to the world. A best friend who has the answer to everything. Even sexual frustration.

The Casual Encounters section on Craigslist is exactly what it seems like it would be; a place for horny people to post messages explaining their horniness. The messages range from the semi-innocent:

“Good looking white corporate exec looking to find an attractive woman for daytime trysts…let’s take the time to get to know one another…I’m open minded about age and race….tell me something about yourself and perhaps we can chat…Have a great day…”

To the completely blunt: Read More »

“My name is Tucker Max, and I am an asshole,” or so begins Tucker Max’s website. And he ain’t lying.

Tucker Max is the author of his—fittingly narcissistic—self-titled website, where he has published over 80 very detailed stories about his ridiculous sex soirées. This guy is a true work of art. He published this disclaimer:

“If you are a reasonably intelligent female, it should be obvious that you don’t want to date me. I am shallow, narcissistic, self-absorbed, and insufferably arrogant. I have no desire to commit to anything beyond a cell phone contract. At any given time, I am fucking multiple women, and will not give up that sexual freedom for a partner.”

He writes the most grotesque (but addictively entertaining) stories about banging midgets, trying anal sex and dating (and getting sued by) Miss Vermont. Oh yea, there was also that story about a girl who tattooed “I fucked Tucker Max” on her vajayjay three hours after meeting him. Read More »

College Candy’s very own Andrea from NYU hosts our first Vlog. Today’s topic, “Should I hook-up with someone in my dorm?”

Take a look and let us know what you think!