[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though some are way more disturbing than others) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

I was in a new college town and my roommate just got her fake ID in the mail. Coincidentally, I had also just told my ex I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I needed to stop thinking about him all the time if we weren’t going to be together. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

I think we can all agree that when we need to heal/forget/not think about someone, there is no better cure than alcohol. Bring on the cherry vodka and Coke! Taio Cruz? Check. Smoky, not black eye? CHECK.

I grabbed K. after pre-gaming and we headed for the first bar we could find.

It was hot and packed – perfect for a girl who just wanted to forget about her ex. The second we walked in, the guys started staring. We blew past them because K. and I already knew what we wanted. This bar’s specialty was the Holy Grail of mixed drinks. In one tall glass, there were more types of alcohol than I could even think of in my near-intoxicated state.

I ordered two drinks with the goal of the night in mind: STOP thinking about the ex.

Read More »

Everyone’s got a morning after story (though I’m sure the girl who watched people get it on at a table in front of her wishes she didn’t) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

The summer after I graduated from high school I was excited to finally be free from compulsory family vacays to celebrate the 4^th of July. So to celebrate both America’s and my own newfound independence, I went big, I went all out – I went to a house party.

It was the kind of party I look back fondly on in remembrance of high school days. There was cheap vodka, a backup keg, and plenty of top shelf liquor plucked from the generous hostesses’ parents liquor cabinet. The night started out innocently enough, with keg stands, red and blue shots (white didn’t work out the way we’d planned), and plenty of high schoolers bragging about just how wasted they were.

As a mature, soon-to-be-freshman, I was so over the same un-graduated attendees that had been plaguing house parties for the last 4 years of my life. As I lamented the lack of “real men” with my equally sophisticated best friends, the college guys showed up. Read More »

Red solo cups litter the floors and tables, filled with either Busch Light or some untrustworthy concoction made by the bartender. So called “bartender” is actually some frat boy wearing a beer helmet and a sign around his neck that says “007.” There are two guys holding a kid by his ankles in his attempt to do a kegstand, and there’s a few couples dancing in the living room to the latest radio hit (by couples I mean complete randos, and by radio hit I mean Justin Bieber).

Just a normal Thursday night.

So you and your group of girlfriends have spent the last hour getting ready for this Sigma Kappa Rho party, and have your slinkiest dresses on. As soon as you walk in the door you force your way through the mob (aka slutty sororstitues) at the bar (aka kitchen table) and ask for the infamous Jungle Juice (aka Death).

“Nice choice, ladies. You’re gonna feel it after one cup of this, it’s that insane,” the frat boy says as he hands over the cups full of icy blue liquid. Read More »

Aunt Tuffy hurt her back and now she is CRANKY. Send your QUESTIONS, if you will to her EMAIL at TuffyLuv@collegecandy.com and MAYBE she’ll get BACK to you. BAAAAAACKKKK.

Okay, let’s go on with the show:

Dear Tuffy Love,

I’m a junior in high school and I’ve had this same boy problem for a long time. I’m hooking up with this kid right now and he’s a jerk. It’s probably a combination of him not having any interest in me besides hooking up and him being younger, but don’t worry, I understand. HE DOESN’T LIKE ME.

The problem is, this hasn’t stopped me from hooking up with him. For me, every time is “the last time” and I journal about it, and keep track and everything, but then I just have long dry spells and then I go get some more. Because he was my first kiss, he’s been the only guy in my life for awhile. Meanwhile, he has a whole bunch of girls hanging around him all the time. The last time we hooked up, he actually invited me to get food afterward (sadly, it was super shocking, because he usually just leaves). We argued about politics and religion and it hurt me because arguing about gay marriage while eating pizza IS something I’d love to do with a real boyfriend. Anyways, afterward he put up a bunch of Tweets about a “girl he loves” on Twitter, and I got the knot in the stomach again (the same one I got when he 1. Brought me in the city to ditch me, 2. Didn’t come to the picnic we planned when I was going to ask him to prom 3. After my first kiss, told me that he was in love with someone else). And just like every other time, I’M SICK OF IT. Read More »

OK, so clearly it’s impossible to be both single and in a relationship (unless you’re Tiger Woods or Jesse James, I guess…), but it’s true. And it’s the best and longest relationship I’ve ever had in my life.

Two years ago, the night before I was to head back to school after a long summer at home, I hooked up with a boy. I had met him through a few of my home friends and after a few too many shots, we ended up at his place. We had a great time. Yes, I probably should have felt a little shady about sleeping with a random on the first night, but I felt safe and comfortable. We had mutual friends, he was a good guy and, well, he was sexy.

The next morning I drove back to my parents’ house, explained to them that I didn’t come home the night before because I didn’t want to drive after I had some drinks (they commended me), then headed back to school. I figured I’d never see or hear from the kid again and that was fine by me.

But that’s not how it turned out. Since that fateful night back in 2008, we’ve spent many a night together. Whenever I’m back in town to see the family, we’ll meet up. And whenever he comes to visit his friends at my school (or uses that as an excuse to see me), he spends a night at my place. We have fun when we’re together (and really awesome cuddle sessions – he’s a great big spoon) and then we go our separate ways and do our own thing.

There are no expectations. No guilt trips. No games. It’s the most honest and straightforward relationship I’ve ever been in, including my last boyfriend who I dated for over a year. We both know what we want and need, and we’re open about it. And since our lives are so separate (we live in different places, we only have 2 mutual friends), it works perfectly. Unlike a Friends With Benefits situation where the two people have a history and whose lives are intertwined, we are merely two people who enjoy one another’s company and there is no potential for a messy ending. Read More »

[Got a Dude itch you just can’t scratch? Sick of getting the pity-eyes as you sift through the Self-Help section at your campus bookstore? Over wondering what those boys are thinking?  We got your back, girlfriend. Send your question (like, Is there something better out there?!) over to askthedude@collegecandy.com. The Dude won’t sugarcoat it, beat around the bush, or any other weird cliche that means lie to you. Like a nice, juicy hot dog, he’ll be 100% real beef, 100% of the time.  So bring it on, ladies.]

Hey Dude,

So I kind of have this thing where I don’t like to sleep with guys unless I’m in a relationship. Let me preface this by saying I have no problem messing around and hooking up, making out, and so on, with random guys until a relationship comes into the picture. Here’s my problem: after 5 or 10 minutes of hooking up I always end up just bailing on the guy and making some lame excuse to leave. I can’t tell whether or not it’s me just being bored of kissing and frustrated that I wont be having sex, or me being insecure that all he really wants to do is have sex and I know I won’t be giving that to him so what’s the point of continuing to make out? Won’t it just bore him or be a tease?

Is it wrong for me to assume that the guy is only interested in sex and wants me to do more than kissing? What should I do? Should I just stick it out and make out for half an hour or am I just being a tease? Any tips?

–Frustrated with Foreplay Read More »

[Everyone’s got a morning after story and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

Going into my senior year of college I promised myself one thing: that I would get all of my “college kinks” out of my system.  And by college kinks I mean never saying “no” to a night out on the town, doing a pedal-pub (Editor’s Note: how did I not know about this!?), and mixing hot apple cider and Goldschlager for at least one football game. I know, I’ve got priorities and clearly the utmost class. One thing I did not include on this Senior Bucket List, however, was making out with a freshman.  I thought I was better than that. I would not sink that low, and if I did I most definitely would not enjoy it.

But, I was wrong. So, so wrong.

The night began innocently enough. Actually, way innocently. We were at a house party dancing to J-Beebs ‘One Time’ and sipping on keg beer. What a night, right? Then, before I knew it, I found this adorable looking gentleman who knew every word and decided to sing it to me. Then, his arm was around me and I admitted something I should be ashamed of: my future Justin Bieber concert attendance (this is what happens when college boys belt out “Me plus you, I’ma tell you one time”).

Needless to say, we fell in love. He hugged me and asked me to marry him. We talked about Justin Bieber’s new album…

“You call him J-Beebs too?! I need to marry you, can we get married?!”
“Yes, I do! I do!” Read More »

Summer in the city has officially arrived. If the massive crowds of people vying for towel space at the beach isn’t enough to lead you to that conclusion, the impressively well organized apartment crawls occurring on the north side of Chicago are a surefire sign. (For all you warm climate readers, apartment crawls aren’t as popular in the winter because no one wants to go meandering from apartment to apartment while their limbs slowly freeze off).

With the renewed party scene, all kinds of new friendships are being made among the few students left on campus for the summer. And by “friendships” I mean “that weird gray area that falls somewhere between more than a hook-up and not quite a relationship.”

Sure, these relationships pop up all year round, but there’s something about summer (the whole idea of being free? Of summer flings? The hot weather putting us all in heat?) that makes the not-so-serious relationship more prevalent than ever. On the one hand, it’s nice; why can’t we all indulge in a fun, no drama, low key “relationship” now and then? On the other, though, these sorta-relationships can make a girl (or guy!) go crazy. We all know this – we’ve all been there.

I’m there right now, dealing with an “in-betweener.” Read More »

[Everyone’s got a morning after story and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

Lesson learned: No good ever comes of hooking up close friends. Especially when you’re right in the middle of their bromance sandwich.

One night, my friend Alex and I were hanging out at his place, watching his roommates play XBox (obviously my dream date). We were all just hanging out and chatting, sipping on some brewskis. Everything was pretty low key until Alex and I decided that TV in bed sounded much more appealing. We disappeared up to his room only to find his bed already occupied. Our mutual best friend Ben was face-down, passed out in his boxers.

Being the 250 pound rugby player that he is, we decided it was probably best to just leave him and sleep in Alex’s roommate’s lofted queen size bed (God, I love college). With Ben’s history of barely being able to be woken up when violently shaken, we decided it was safe to fool around quietly. And we did…before falling into  a post-workout slumber. Read More »

[Everyone’s got a vice, a bad habit, something they know they need to change. Unfortunately, everyone also has a million excuses why they just can’t do it. Not anymore. Every month we will be following a different CollegeCandy writer as she takes on a personal challenge. This month we’re standing behind Samantha and her quest to be man-free for 31 days.  She had a bit of a meltdown last week, so let’s see what this month has taught her.

Alright everyone. I owe you an apology. Last week’s article made no sense. Is she done? What happened? Did she mess up? Why is she crying? Just be? What does that mean?? This is really not very man-free!

True on all counts. I was under, let’s say, emotional duress while writing last week’s article. It was drama llamas all around, and there’s nothing more I hate than a drama llama. They just stand there, all high and mighty with their long necks and furry coats, staring down at you and then turning around like they’re disgusted with your actions…drama llamas, who needs em?

Anyway scratch what I said last week. Let’s talk about what happened this week!

Friday night my peer health internship was doing an event that we do twice each quarter called Snack Attack. It sounds a lot more fun than it actually is. Basically we (the interns) hand out little bags of animal crackers or pretzels to the drunken revelers in the streets around 1o PM on Friday night “to help them feel better in the morning if they choose to drink.”

Yeah, I know…

Nonetheless, you learn many things when looking at the meat market that is Friday night through sober eyes, my young grasshoppers. First of all, yes, your skirt IS TOO SHORT! And no, pulling it down every 3.5 steps DOES NOT HELP. Also, ladies, if you choose to fall at any point during your night out, please, please, do not make it in front of your college town’s uniformed finest while wearing the shortest, tightest dress and highest heels known to man. If you do, DO NOT attempt to be helped up by your drunk friend (who, in addition to her super-short dress and heels is wearing a walking boot – the kind you wear after breaking your foot!) who of course will proceed to fall ON TOP OF YOU. How you managed to not get arrested in beyond me. But I digress… Read More »