College life can get pretty crazy — especially when alcohol gets involved. Especially when that alcohol comes from a cooler labeled Jungle Juice. So this week we were in the mood to hear some crazy “only in college” stories and asked you in our weekly Monday Facebook poll “where’s the weirdest place you’ve ever woken up?”

And we were pretty surprised with the answers. We were expecting “a random frat” or “a local’s basement”, but here’s what we got instead:

“In the middle of a buffalo field.. haha” – Aqueena Schoorlemmer

“With my legs half in a river!!head in a bush!!” – Jack Barofka

“In the bathtub wrapped in my duvet” – Gloria

Want to see the rest of the answers? Check out our fan page! Want to see last week’s question? Click here! And don’t forget to share your weirdest wake-up below!

[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though most don't involve a large group of potential sorority sisters) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]

It’s safe to say that my New Year’s Eve celebration got way out of control this year.

This year my college friends and I decided to go all out for the night. It’s our last year of college and we barely even talk to our home friends anymore, so it made perfect sense that we have a mid-break reunion in the big city. One of my friend’s aunt lives in NYC and she offered up her apartment for the weekend while she was away skiing with her family.

While we spent hours online figuring out travel arrangements and outfit choices, we never got around to actually planning our night. So when the clock start ticking on the 31st we had to go with the only thing we knew was actually happening. A friend of a friend of a cousin of a roommate of a Craigslist killer of a friend was throwing a party in his apartment and told us we were more than welcome to come. We’ve watched Sex and the City so we thought we knew what we were in for — a gorgeous, spacious apartment overflowing with booze and horny well-dressed men.

But when we got there, we immediately realized that we were completely wrong. The apartment was the size of my closet and all the glamorous guests (all 5 of them) were sitting on the couch ripping shots of Barton’s vodka. With our heels and clutches and booze-ready bodies ready to go, we realized that we had made a big mistake. So we did what any classy ladies would do. Took several shots extremely quickly and bounced. It was rude and uncouth and I would be embarrassed if that was the only that that happened during the entire night.

It wasn’t.

We got into a cab and told the driver to take us to his favorite bar in the city. He dropped us off on a sketchy street filled with dive bars and grunge music. Without any other options, we chose one randomly, went in, and start pounding back more drinks. My camera tells me I hooked up at midnight. My memory tells me he said he was 23. My friends tell me he very clearly said he was 33.

Next thing I remember is the bartender being all over me. I do, very unfortunatley, remember loving it. I felt chic and cool and so worldly getting all my friends free shots while the bartender and I played kissy face.

Then like a flash (yeah my memory is in flashes at this point) the bartender took me into the back of the bar, out of my friends’ eyesight, and made me touch his penis. Even in my drunken state I knew I didn’t want to do this so I pushed him away — and proceed to projectile vomit all over him and the bar. He went from lovey-dovey to “get out of my bar!” faster than I could round-up my friends and explain what happened.

We jumped into a cab and didn’t get more than a few blocks before my friend start yakking all over the  backseat. Luckily the driver only charged us A MILLION DOLLARS for the ride to get it cleaned up.

Thinking that all the excitement and disgusting behavior was done for the night, we got into our pajamas, and went to bed. As I drifted to sleep, I could hear my friend, sleeping upright in a chair” making weird “tsk” noises in her sleep. Precious, I thought.

Woke up the next morning and realized that those “tsk” noises were actually “I’m throwing up everywhere in this room” noises. There was barf everywhere. Beds, couch, chairs, wall. It was a disaster. And my friend who’s aunt lived there started (understandably) freaking out.

Without any other options but to get to work, we raided the cleaning closet and scrubbed the room down for hours. When we were done, it looked almost like new, and it seemed like a Febreeze factory. And this was all while I was completely hungover. And too broke (thank you cab fare) to even get breakfast.

Hands down, worst night of my life.

[You think that's bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]

It wouldn’t be a Friday night if you weren’t incredibly inebriated and on the verge of getting a record-breaking 10th DUI. But how did you get from your desk in the library to this high-speed car chase? We’ve  cracked the code to figuring out how you went from slowly sipping a beer to walking around the bar drinking the bar’s signature tornado-tini out of a cowboy boot.

Sober
All you wanted to do tonight was go home, catch up on your NSFW links, and fall asleep. But your stupid friends dragged you out to happy hour. But seriously, you’re just having one drink and going home. And your friends are crazy if they think you’re going to laugh at their jokes and engage in polite conversation.

Buzzed
You know what? It’s Friday night and it’s kinda stupid to leave the bar now that your beer goggles are just getting into focus. Why not order a few more beers, take a couple shots, and find out just how drunk you have to be to willingly take home your morbidly obese T.A from last semester.

Drunk
Sometime between that last round of shots and dancing on the bar, you’ve become a stand-up comedian and a first-rate politician. When did your jokes start getting so funny and since when did you become so into illegal immigration reform? You’re going to do some great and timely Molly Shannon impressions as soon as you get back from peeing outside the bar.

Blackout
What did you just snort and where are your pants? And most importantly, when did you lose the ability to speak English? Good thing you’ve still got those sick dance moves; nobody does the lawnmower like you do. In other news, love your new bicep tattoo of you and the TA getting married.

Clinically Dead
That’s a cozy spot in the back alley. Why don’t you just lay down, make yourself comfortable, and sleep it off. And remember whatever happens with the homeless man doesn’t count if you can’t remember it.

Hungover
Wow. There’s nothing quite like waking up inside a dumpster on a Saturday morning. A lot of things are pretty blurry right now but you’re pretty sure you got to second base with a raccoon last night. It’s all cool though, just another great thing to say during the next round of Never Have I Ever.

[This story was originally posted by Jenni - Syracuse University]

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

It’s the start of a new school year and to honor that, we at CollegeCandy are bringing back the fan-favorite series, “We’ve All Been There.”  (We tried to get another national holiday/long weekend for you guys but it’s way harder than we thought so this will have to do.) Every week, Lauren – University of Michigan will comment on the common experiences all college women share – like trying to figure out if that boy is crushin’ too or stupid group projects. Read, relate, cringe and enjoy.

Your 10 page paper on the complete works of Shakespeare is due in less than a week. You vowed to spend all of Sunday at the library working on it, but an impromptu beer pong tournament broke out at your house on Saturday night and you were so busy eating Oreo Cakesters and chugging Vitaminwater that the entire day passed you by. Now it’s crunch time and you have no choice but to bang it out.

You decide not to waste any time, so you skip the long walk to the library and work at home. You tell your roommates not to bother you, lock the door to your room and settle in for some serious paper writing.

Only your desk is really messy. You can’t focus when you don’t even have space to spread out your books. So you clean it. Twenty minutes and a garbage can full of papers later, you decide to take out the trash. But before you do that, you might as well make sure there isn’t anything else that needs to be thrown away. You begin to clean your room. Once it is clean, you tell yourself, you will be able to focus.

As you pick up the pile of clothes next to your bed, though, you find your camera and are soon sitting on the bed flipping through photos from Saturday night. There are some real doozies on there and you have to share them. It won’t take long to post them on Facebook, right? You’ll just do that quickly and then get to the paper.

You load the photos online. Then you tag them. Then you caption them. Then you scroll through your newsfeed to see what everyone else is doing as you sit here on this Tiki Tuesday writing a stupid paper. You look through a few friends’ photo albums, you peruse the profile of the cute guy in one of the pictures, you message your friend asking her if he’s single.

“Sh*t,” you think to yourself. “I really have to get started on this paper.” You log off Facebook and prepare yourself to start writing.

But now you are hungry. You really didn’t eat much today, so you run downstairs to grab a bowl of cereal. As you are pouring your Frosted Mini Wheats into the bowl, your roommate walks in. You haven’t seen her all day, so you decide to eat the cereal with her quickly and then get moving on the paper.

Only it isn’t quick. You end up talking about Saturday night, the cute guy you just found on Facebook and what she should wear to the Tiki Tuesday party. Before you know it, you are up in her room rifling through her closet for the perfect “cute but not trying too hard” outfit.

Then you are on her computer looking at all the pictures you just posted.
Then you are helping her clean her room.
Then you are back in the kitchen doing all the dishes in the sink.
Then you are making coffee so you can stay up all night working on this paper.
Then you are looking for any excuse left not to sit down and write the damn thing.

By the time you actually make it back to your room, it is far too late to start writing. So you start rationalizing. “I would only get, like, a paragraph done tonight. And I work better under pressure, anyway. I’ll just skip lecture tomorrow and work on it then.”

So, you pull on a pair of PJs and head to the living room to watch some TV with the girls. You still have a few days left until the paper is due. You’ll work on it tomorrow. Promise.

Yeah, we’ve all been there. In college, there is nothing quite like the last minute.

Yesterday we asked all our Twitter-capable readers to tweet their biggest morning regrets and we were wowed to see that we were quickly outdone by some of our followers. We consciously chose blogging as a profession so it’s pretty hard to beat us in the #morningregrets category, but like we said, you did!

From over-drinking to over-eating, we spent the day alternating between cracking up and cringing. So for those of you who weren’t able to participate (talk about a #morningregret) we wanted to share our favorites. Want more? Click here for the full list.

nolegirl #morningregrets in the process… http://twitpic.com/2rcx65

And later…..

nolegirl Getting everyone at the bar to call me Snookie because “my boyfriend looks like a gorilla” … #morningregrets

bberg1010 #morningregrets ordering 2 medium pizzas so that the total would be enough to get it delivered…and eating it

hotbeautyhealth #morningregrets Skipping out on exercising this morning and eating an egg mcmuffin from McDonalds. ha!

BrittanyChaffee Scraping the nacho cheese off the plate so vigorously, my finger nail beds hurt for weeks. Multiple #morningregrets

charlsieniemiec Waking up right now #morningregrets

Thecollegecrush The drunken topless pictures that my friends and I took on the campus “green machines.” (golf carts) #morningregrets

heartonfire17 Seeing the boy I crushed on for my entire undergrad (all five years, too) … and still walking away. #morningregrets

b_money_z trying to detox by eating an entire bottle of flinstones vitamins. remember- they’re colored. #morningregrets

jackelynho Facebook. #morningregrets

norahcarroll It was a terrible idea to sleep in my contacts last night. Glasses it is. #morningregrets

heartonfire17 Got paid yesterday – $500. One jacket, five albums, two bracelets, two scarves and three pairs of shoes later … #morningregrets

Jillian_Bell Using IMDB to prove the celebrity conspiracy theory I just made up instead of doing something productive with my time #morningregrets

loverockyxoxo #morningregrets watching honor society videos in the library without water proof mascara. i miss them.

caitlincorsetti and don’t drink two cups of komodo dragon blend coffee back to back #morningregrets

Ccramer11 entering a beer chugging contest when wearing a dry clean only dress #morningregrets

ElleandBee Deciding to fully embrace my (minimally) Irish roots on St. Patrick’s Day before working at 8am the next morning #morningregrets

Anywho, while watching, we had our usual conversation about how awesome it would be to flip a house. All the demolition and repairs (and interior decorating, hello!) almost had us salivating at the idea (or maybe it was just the leftover pizza crusts, hard to tell). We both agreed that it would be incredibly cool to flip – nay – build a house from scratch. But who in their right mind would allow two completely inexperienced college kids masquerade as architects/carpenters/interior designers?

Enter Ty Pennington. Well, kind of. An Extreme Home Makover: Home Edition marathon was starting on the next channel, and after crying intermittently for 2 hours, David suggested we volunteer to build a house. This way, we’d get to help a family in need and if we screwed anything up while building, we wouldn’t have to actually live there (he was kidding. I think).

I Googled Habitat for Humanity and found our helpful, super easy to navigate local site. Not even 5 minutes later, David and I were both signed up to volunteer on a build day for June 12^th.

We were so excited about the prospect of helping others in such a cool way. David and I have always been huge supporters of helping others, but mostly it’s been through philanthropies with our respective fraternity and sorority. We were so psyched to find a new way to help our community (especially in a way that didn’t require any donations, cause we’re totes broke). Habitat seemed like the perfect venue for our charitable energies.

The day of, we were pumped and ready to go. We slathered on sunscreen, got dressed and grabbed baseball hats. David’s mom had surprised us with heavy duty gloves the day before (the website suggested we bring them, but I hadn’t read that part), which was so sweet and turned out to be a lifesaver once we got to the actual build site. Well, for David at least.

Once we found the build site (Mapquest must have a personal vendetta against me, at the rate it gets me lost), signed in and found the coordinator from Habitat, we were immediately separated. David was sent outside to dig for the irrigation system, and I got assigned to work inside caulking the baseboards of the entire house.

I got to stay inside all day, which was pretty sweet, not to mention that I found out that I am an excellent caulk-er. Add to this the amount of “caulk” jokes an elderly lady volunteer taught me that day, and the experience was already proving to be priceless. David got to get incredibly sweaty and really, really filthy, which he loved and I found freaking hot.

After our shift was done, volunteers from another non-profit group brought lunch for all the volunteers on the site, and we got to meet the family that was moving into the home. They were so grateful and sweetly appreciative. We took pictures, they thanked us again, and we got to see first-hand what a big difference those few hours had made in someone else’s life. It was a great experience, and David and I were so happy we did it. It means so much to me to know what a caring person David is, and how readily he agrees to helping others. We’re volunteering again soon, and we hope to be part of the volunteer group to finish the house-we can’t wait for the dedication ceremony!

After this experience we decided to make volunteering a bigger part of our lives. There’s so much we can do to help make our community (and the world) a better place, even if it is just the two of us. And volunteering together definitely made us appreciate the altruistic side and love each other way more than dear, sweet Armando ever could.

How about you guys? Do you and your boo ever volunteer? What’s your favorite part about it?

There’s so much I love about drinking: it helps me forget about stress and schoolwork, it makes everything that happens so much funnier, and it’s fun to do outside when it’s nice out. (…and inside when it’s crappy out. And in the morning. And in the night. And on Mondays.) And those crappy Black Eyed Peas songs you usually can’t stand? Total fist pumpers! Not to mention the hilarious piecing together that happens the morning after.

All your problems seem to melt away when you’re on the dance floor with your girlfriends, double Long-Island in hand, but all that goodness doesn’t come without a price. And I’m not talking about the $65 bar tab you discover in the morning. Us experienced college gals know that sometimes the fun doesn’t last past last call. Alas, the downsides of drinking…

1. Boys
For us single ladies, anything that happens with the opposite sex while intoxicated is bad. (Almost as bad as my drunk dance moves to “Single Ladies.” Note to self: You do not look/sing/dance like Beyonce. ) A dancefloor make-out is always fun, but should you really go back to his apartment and risk an embarrassing walk of shame the next morning? And why do we always insist on texting that guy that we swore to our sober selves we’d never in a million years text again? And how on earth did we remember his phone number even though we took it out of our phones last weekend? WHY DID WE INVITE HIM OVER?

2. Tears
Drunk tears are the WORST. And most often they have to do with #1. Although, they have also been known to stem from friends, acquaintances, mean bartenders, or discovering the burrito place is closed when all you want is a big, fat one. A few strong drinks + something (anything) to tip us off = Niagra Falls of the Face. And without waterproof mascara, well, it ain’t pretty.

3. Food
Get one (yes, one!) drink in me and I can’t remember the daily workouts/salads that plague me all week long. Suddenly I not only want, but need, to eat an entire pizza by myself. Or break into my roommate’s cookie supply and polish off a whole sleeve of Oreos. That may or may not be dipped in frosting. Or ranch. Or whatever I can get my paws on.

4. Dance moves
I took a few dance classes back in the day, but a few cranberry vodkas deep I mistakenly believe I am the sexiest possible fusion of a Rockette and a seasoned stripper. Hair twirling, dropping all the way to the floor, dancing with a boy with less than two feet touching the ground, you name it, I’ve done it (and I’m not the only one!). I’m sure I look ridiculous to anyone who remembers, but I just can’t kick the dance-floor habit.

5. Hangovers
The ultimate suckiest consequence of a long night of drinking. No matter how many Advil we pop, pizzas we eat or glasses of water we chug before bed, we just can’t seem to avoid it. More often than not, we wake up with a pounding headache, can’t see straight, and spend at least 20 minutes trying to figure out how to get last night’s mistake out of our bed before we puke. And then sitting in lecture when the room is spinning and our stomach is churning? Vom.

Sigh. Even though all 5 of these things plagued me this morning last weekend alone, I know I’ll still be hitting up happy hour later… When will we ever learn?!

Sober- All you wanted to do tonight was go home, catch up on your NSFW links, and fall asleep. But your stupid friends dragged you out to happy hour. But seriously, you’re just having one drink and going home. And your friends are crazy if they think you’re going to laugh at their jokes and engage in polite conversation.

Buzzed- You know what? It’s Friday night and it’s kinda stupid to leave the bar now that your beer goggles are just getting into focus. Why not order a few more beers, take a couple shots, and find out just how drunk you have to be to willingly take home your morbidly obese T.A from last semester.

Drunk- Sometime between that last round of shots and dancing on the bar, you’ve become a stand-up comedian and a first-rate politician. When did your jokes start getting so funny and since when did you become so into illegal immigration reform? You’re going to do some great and timely Molly Shannon impressions as soon as you get back from peeing outside the bar.

Blackout- What did you just snort and where are your pants? And most importantly, when did you lose the ability to speak English? Good thing you’ve still got those sick dance moves; nobody does the lawnmower like you do. In other news, love your new bicep tattoo of you and the TA getting married.

Clinically Dead- That’s a cozy spot in the back alley. Why don’t you just lay down, make yourself comfortable, and sleep it off. And remember whatever happens with the homeless man doesn’t count if you can’t remember it.

Hungover – Wow. There’s nothing quite like waking up inside a dumpster on a Saturday morning. A lot of things are pretty blurry right now but you’re pretty sure you got to second base with a raccoon last night. It’s all cool though, just another great thing to say during the next round of Never Have I Ever.

Your co-workers/parents won't be nearly as impressed with this as you'd think.

Keg stands, day drinking, mardi gras beads, vegging out at home during the holidays… these are all things that happen during college. And by all accounts, they should happen, you know, before you’re catapulted into the real world where whatever you do at your local bar on a Thursday will not go over well in your cubicle on Friday.  Yeah, not only does college give you that yummy degree, it gives you the freedom to act like a college kid. It’s like your student ID is a ‘get by free’ pass, and just about anything goes.

Which is a really beautiful thing.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for our well-being, some things belong with college and college only. Much like Vegas, what happens on campus should probably stay on campus. If you want people to continue loving you in the real world, anyway.  And with the end of college nearing for so many of us, it might be time to lay those things out. So here is a list of the 20 things that are only OK in college:

1. Eating cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And considering that a valid meal.

2. Sundays dedicated to your roommates slowly filtering in from walks of shame.

3. Coffee at 9….P.M.

4. Waking up on the bathroom floor.

5. Using abbrevs (LOL, Totz, OMG, Fo shiz) and movie quotes (You shut your mouth when you’re talking to me!) in normal day conversations.

6. Not washing your hair for 3 days to “get those natural oils back.”

7. (Hopefully) Pulling all-nighters.

8. Wearing Uggs for any and all occasions.

9. Storing mini shots of Smirnoff in your purse “just in case you need them.”

10. Using empty bottles of Smirnoff and 3 Buck Chuck as a form of home decor.

11. Having a drawer full of t-shirts dedicated to drinking events.

12. Drinking until 5AM and sleeping until 3PM. Then waking up and doing it again.

13. Calling in to work because you are hungover.

14. Calling in to work because it’s the first nice day of the season.

15. Drinking before noon. On a Tuesday.

16. Duct-taping two forties to your hands and calling it a game.

17. Dressing up like a huge slut-bag for Halloween…three days in a row.

18. Considering lightly jogging to class (because you’re late) a great work-out for the day.

19. Scheduling your obligations around episodes of Gossip Girl, Glee and The Hills.

20. Being in room full of guys….all of which you’ve hooked up with.

So St. Paddy’s Day 2010 has come and gone and if the giant foam hat I discovered in my bed this morning (that I don’t even remember wearing…) is any indication, the day was a huge success. Not a success: my brand new pillow cases that are now permanently printed with glittery green shamrocks that were once adorning my cheeks.

But, yeah, yesterday was awesome. Epic. “BEST DAY EVER!” At least that was the case, say, eight hours ago when I was doing the Irish Jig and clicking my heels on the way to Taco Bell for a few late night Crunch Wrap Supremes.  However, post-day St. Paddy’s, when I’m feeling green instead of wearing green, isn’t giving me that loving feeling.

Does anyone else feel like even water doesn’t taste good this morning?  Yeah, you can thank the Irish Car Bombs for that one.

If only I had remembered this feeling 3 days ago when I was counting down the hours to St. Patrick’s day via my Facebook profile and gushing about all the beauty this religious holiday has to offer. When I was scrambling to finish up my Thursday reading so I could spend 12 hours drinking in peace. When I was putting together the perfect green outfit, undies and all. When my friends and I were scoping out the drink specials at every bar on campus. Honestly, since the minute I turned 21, I transformed into a (figuratively Irish) St. Paddy’s Day pro-party planner/green beer extraordinaire.

But as the next day taps me on the shoulder, I realize I have Irish-jigged myself into a green mess.

Yes, this morning has been brutal. I woke up at 8am for class and thanked god I didn’t choke to death in my sleep from the 13 shamrock necklaces around my neck. I removed them and stumbled to the bathroom where I realized that I failed to properly squirt contact fluid into my contact holder last night. And when I looked in the mirror and tried to scrub off what was left of the giant shamrock on my face, I learned that I hadn’t been to 2 bars like I once thought, but actually went to 6. So many, in fact, that the stamps were running up my arm.

I returned to my room to get dressed for the long (OMG it’s gonna be so long) day of classes, which now looked like a leprechaun’s clothing store. Somehow throughout the day I acquired quite the Irish wardrobe: foam hat, green aviators, shamrock antenna head band, a neon green wig, and (my personal favorite) a button that reads, “Want to see my lucky charms?”

Just looking at it all made my head hurt.

And now, with what feels like 12 little leprechaun’s banging on my skull, I have to go to class. In my glasses. With bar stamps up my arm.

Yeah, St. Paddy’s Day was a success, but I just hope someone will remind me of this feeling next February when I start my countdown to the greatest college holiday of the year.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go dump the green beer out of my Nalgene (true story) and fill it with some Blue Powerade for the long day ahead.