Let’s face it, you can mind your manners all you want but there’ll always be that jerk that comes along and pushes you off the swing set anyway *cough-Ryan-M-from-first-grade-cough* So here are some quick guidelines of how to deal with the Ryans of this world:

During a confrontation…

1. Ask yourself if it’s really worth it.
If someone’s walking straight at you and expect you to get out of their way, remember that it wouldn’t kill you to move over. Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt and yeah, that person is completely rude, but is it worth ruining your day over?

2. Stay calm under pressure.
As Miss Manners, I really can’t condone rudeness; however, I do understand that everyone has bad days and sometimes people honestly don’t know that they’re being rude. So if you catch an attitude at the get-go, they might see it as you being rude first. Never fight fire with fire. No matter what, speak calmly and rationally and perhaps they’ll realize how ridiculous they sound in comparison.
DO NOT: Act patronizing. If your calmness comes off as patronizing/douche-y, that’ll only set them off again. No one likes to feel stupid and you’ll just push their buttons if they feel like you’re looking down on them.
OR: Start a shouting match, especially in public. Then both of you are being rude. Plus it’s hard to be rational when you’re screaming/being screamed at.

3. Address the rudeness.
Say something along the lines of, “Excuse me, but it was really rude of you to steal my swing like that.” If they haven’t realized by now that they’ve been rude, now they know. And if they’ve already realized it and just don’t care, this will hopefully shame them into acting dignified. Stick to the facts and explain to them exactly what’s wrong with the situation.
DO NOT: Apologize unless you mean it. We can all tell when an apology is insincere and, trust me, it doesn’t make anyone feel better [especially if it was sarcastic].

4. If all else fails, leave.
Walk away from the situation. It isn’t the “weak” way out as some drunken frat boys may argue; it’s the adult thing to do. Be the bigger person and let it go. Yes, even if you’re right. You aren’t backing down, you’re walking away, which is much more mature.

PS: Violence is not the answer, kids. Make love, not war.

So, have you gotten into any confrontations lately? Did you do the right thing? How did you handle it? Tell me about it!

Dear Tuffy Luv,

I’m probably the least experienced person I know. Here’s a secret: I may have been kissed before but it was one of those sexless pecs so no real love there. I feel really awkward. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends but I’m really shy about sex. None of them has even gotten close. I’m only a freshmen in college but I’ve been here a while and have had opportunities to hook up ( I try however to avoid alcohol so some parties I won’t go to).

Anyway I was hoping to hook up with my crush but I don’t think I could tell him I like him or anything really. We hang out in groups a lot but I want to know how can I tell if he likes me? And if he does, how to confess?

Sincerly,

VERY Shy

Dear VERY Shy,

First of all, honey, be safe, please. Always use condoms EVERY TIME, no matter what. Okay? Got it? For real. It’s not worth the risk, EVER.

Okay, now that that’s out of the way:

If you wanna lose your V card to him, then you should make sure you can talk to him. Trust me, you do NOT want to sleep with him if you can’t even express how you feel.

I think your first step is to get more comfortable with yourself. Not to squeek you out, but masturbation is a really good tool for getting to know yourself sexually. Explore yourself, find out what you like and what you don’t like. Sex will be a whoooooole lot better if you got one half of the equation down. (Hint: You that half.)

Do you have a friend you can talk about sex with? The more you talk about it, the less shy you’ll be. And read up! It’s much less scary when you know the facts. Get thee to a library and check that shiz out. As long as you’re safe, ain’t nothin to be embarassed about. It’s a healthy part of an adult relationship.

But no sleeping with Crush Boy until you can talk to him about it without getting embarassed. If you’re not old enough to talk about it, you’re not old enough to do it. But I think you’re old enough for both.

Hearts & Skulls,

Tuffy Luvw

Not all of them, though. Some annoying campus dwellers will be there. Always. Forever. And never go away.

Who am I talking about? Why, the  Frat House Groupie, of course!

Now, there are many girls who may seem to fall into this category that should not. These are:

1) Members of a sister sorority. It’s super common to see certain fraternities pairing up with certain sororities on campus; their bylaws/campus rules/international standards of fraternizing require that they have to make nice with the girlies and co-host events together.  Whatev.  Point is, if you’re hanging at the house one Friday night because they’re having an awesome 70s themed costume party and you see the typical group of sorority girls, those are the least of your worries.

2) Girlfriends or ex girlfriends of frat boys: These girls are expected to be there. After all, they aren’t just trolling the crowd looking for booty; this is their man’s house. Or their ex man. And they are still friends with all the boys. Read: they know people.

Now that we have that out of the way, let’s move into the girls you should be wary of. There are generally two types of Frat House Groupies:

1. The Slutty One: She is the first one at the party and the last one to leave. She’ll be dancing on a table wearing the shiny, super tight tube top that she doesn’t have the body for. On top of that, she’ll be wearing jeans or pants that are usually at least one size too small so that she looks like a stumbling, slurring Muffin Top.  She also tends to wear heels that might be better suited for a scantily clad woman dancing around a pole in a dark corner of a strip club.  She makes a habit of staying up half the night playing beer pong, but doesn’t bother to cover those dark circles under her eyes in the afternoon when she finally rolls out of bed. Those are her battle scars and she wants everyone to ask about her night.  Her most annoying attribute is that she thinks she’s hot stuff and that every guy in the house would die to get with her, when in reality she couldn’t get into a photoshoot for STD awareness.

She’s hangs at the house constantly, trying to get laid, or establish her “place” there.  She thrives on the idea of being part of the inner frat circle, when she is really just a (slutty) puppy dog following the brothers around. Or passing out on one of their dirty, beer-soaked couches.

2. The Guys’ Girl: The other groupie is the exact opposite.  Her uniform includes way more conservative dress.  She won’t dress like a slut, but she won’t dress like a lady either.  She likes the t-shirt and jean approach because she feels like “one of the guys.”   She likes baseball hats with winery names on them and watching football with the guys. She thinks she is much more mature than the other girls around the house and has a much better relationship with her “boys.”  She likes to talk about being able to hold her own, whether it’s in arguments with the men or drinking them under the table (never actually seen that one happen).

This is the girl that wants to be uber important to the fraternity and all of its members and thinks herself a brother even though she lacks (among other things) a penis. The guys’ girl tells everyone that she would never date a frat boy, but secretly wants nothing more. The whole “I’m one of the guys” front is just that: a front. At her core, she wants the same thing as every other girl trolling the frat house hallways. She just doesn’t want to be seen that way.

Whichever category she falls into, the Frat House Groupie is a staple at frat parties nationwide. If you find yourself at a Golf Pros and Tennis Hoes party, or just a random Tiki Tuesday, you will run into her. Every. single. time. There is no cure for the Frat House Groupie; just avoid, avoid, avoid.

(Photo courtesy of laurelt83 on flickr)

Last time,

One night at four a.m. the whole group came banging back from a wild night at one of the eating clubs. One girl and one guy had gotten into some sort of argument, and they decided to have it out — right in front of my door. For an hour I heard screaming of “YOU ARE A BAD PERSON! A BAD PERSON!” And the barked reply, “JUST FORGET IT AND GO TO BED!” immediately followed by the “YOU ARE A BAD PERSON!” again. My boyfriend emailed the rca to complain. Later that week, I was returning from a late shower, only wearing a towel, and found the whole group of freshmen clustered around my door, talking loudly. When I said “excuse me,” they ignored me. When I started pushing at people, they still ignored me. I had to shout at the top of my lungs and push at the same time, clutching my towel, just to get them to move. I still don’t know if they were purposefully being difficult, or just were oblivious, but it made me feel oddly threatened and vulnerable, as if they were determined not to recognize me as a human being.

Right about in the same time period, it was my boyfriend’s birthday and I got him a gorgeous-looking cake. I put it in the communal fridge. Later that day, we and our friends had a party and had a few slices. At least half of the lovely, gourmet cake was left; I put it back in the fridge. The next day, I went to get a slice and found that it was gone. The box was still there, but the cake had been entirely eaten, with my note — “Don’t touch please, thanks!” carefully replaced on top of the box. Dammit, that was my cake! A month later, the obscene images started showing up on my chalkboard again. This time, they were accompanied with a message: “socially inept.”

I had already complained to the rca and the dean several times; what could I do? I felt furious and helpless at the same time. I had always been the kind of girl who let people walk all over her. When I was picked on in middle school for being a bookworm, I bore the taunts in silence. I never said a word to my parents or teachers when kids harassed me, stuffed garbage in my mailbox, ceaselessly teased. Now, here I was, a mature, 20-year-old woman, living independently, fending for myself, and it was all happening again. These hallmates had the maturity level of middle-schoolers, and I couldn’t help letting it get to me. I wanted to cry, and I hated that I wanted to cry. I was such a coward!

But I knew that the kind of people who enjoy intimidating and excluding other people, in making a game of others’ pain, weren’t looking for much provocation. It wasn’t my fault; I had been chosen, as the only girl on the hall who wasn’t a freshman, and it didn’t really matter who I was. Though the freshmen insisted on getting personal in these irritating ways, the harassment actually wasn’t personal at all. They didn’t know me, judge me and find me wanting; they barely even knew my name.

I erased the message on my board as if it had never been there. When I was in the bathroom with the other girls, I took to giving them a defiant stare, but I didn’t say anything. The last month dragged by and the freshmen seemed to have decided that their last ploy had gone a bit too far. They were quieter from then on, and no more messages appeared.

Now a brand new school year is ahead of us. Hopefully, they’ve used the time off to mature, to realize their wrongs and begin thinking about other people as human beings too. That might be wishful thinking on my part. Either way, I won’t be living among them next year. Thank god for senior privilege.

Flickr is a crazy little website. Pictures from all over the world, from crappy and boring “here’s me on the lawn, now here’s me laughing on the lawn” photos to beautiful, artist renderings of pristine landscapes — everything is contained, and easy to find, on this user friendly website.

Why, Flickr is so simple and easy even your grandma could do it!

And someone’s grandma certaily has.

I really can’t say how our office stumbled across this set of photos, but I can say that after searching through about 100 of them, I have never wished there was eye sanitizer more than at this exact moment. I mean…what.the.hell.IS.this?!

She calls herself a MILF (but judging by the photos she really could be a GILF), she has single-handedly killed off an entire herd of cows in order to cover her body with piece after piece of uber tight leather, her “provocative” posing looks more like she A) got clubbed in both kneecaps by the mafia, B) is getting arrested by invisible cop ghosts, or C) is just standing around staring at the wall, and she doesn’t show her entire face but certainly shows enough to be recognized (if god is merciful not by her kids).

In today’s society, anyone with a camera and the ability to upload hundreds upon hundreds of pictures can become a star, and “LeatherChrissy” certainly seems to have the panache to rocket her “mature MILF” status to computer screens everywhere.

My brain is currently malfunctioning (too many images I never wanted to view have been viewed), so I can’t quite figure out what the moral to this story is…but I guess if I had to take a guess? Don’t leave gran home with the digital camera.

[PS: someone in our office was certain LeatherChrissy was this lady...I don't think so. Because if it was, the earth would be exploding right now from incomprehensible ridiculousness]

I’ve never really felt like I have a biological clock ticking, or that I need to do something dramatic (read: get married) before I hit 30. I don’t think my hitched friends necessarily felt that way, either—I think the time and the person were just right for them. But still, as each year passes by and I have birthday after birthday, I think to myself, “People get married at this age. People get married at younger than this age. How is that POSSIBLE?”

I consider myself a pretty mature person. Sure, occasionally I will do something like pick up a hot steel pan without an oven mitt just because I think I can do it, and then I will predictably get burned. But my life isn’t generally like that. I pay all my bills on time, I can be trusted to get back to people, and I’m responsible. Why, then, do I feel like I’ll NEVER be ready to get married?

When somebody around my age tells me they’re getting married, my mouth says, “Oh, wow! Congratulations! That’s fantastic!” and my thoughts say, “Are you freaking out of your mind? You’re, like, 24 years old! How can you get married?”

In my mind, I think it reduces down to this: Marriage is something for grown-ups, and I don’t consider myself a grown-up yet. Yes, I live on my own. I am self-sufficient. I take out the trash once a week. But does that really make me a grown-up? I’m not sure.

I don’t feel even close to equipped to handle wedding invitations, flower arrangements, reception details…and let’s not even mention the money. My boyfriend and I are both far from rich, and so are our families. So how would we even presume to think we could pay for a wedding? It’s laughable. Weddings and marriage, clearly, are for people with big, steady incomes.

Maybe someday I’ll wake up and suddenly think, “That’s it. I’m ready.” But I’m not counting on it. The only thing that’s made me feel better about all this was talking to my old resident advisor, who got married a couple of years ago at the age of 28. I told her, “Laura, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to get married.”

And she said, “Believe me—I am married, and sometimes I still feel like I’m not ready.”

What about you? Could you get married now? Does the mere suggestion sound psychotic? Let us know!

No, friends, what I’m talking about is the epidemic known as Girls Posting Slutty / Drunk Pictures of Themselves on Facebook.

Obviously, this isn’t a new trend, but as I enter the age of (supposed) maturity, I can’t help but feel frustrated at the onslaught of obviously wasted half-naked girls clogging the photo albums of kids I used to baby-sit in high school.

I admit, I used to have a fair share of “I’m so DRUNK” pictures on my Facebook account, but as soon as I started to assert myself as an adult, I went and erased every single picture that made me seem…less than smart. I’m of age, I’m allowed to have fun, but how mature can I really make myself out to be if there are pictures floating around somewhere that show me hanging upside down off someone’s couch or double fisting two shots of Jack?

We all know it’s not just our friends who can see those wild and crazy pictures of us, and the more exposure Facebook gets, the more I wonder why so many girls are going out of their way to make themselves look cheap and easy to the entire internet community.

What do these girls think these photos will do? Get them dates? Get them exposure? Get them fans? Based on my knowledge of the human race, I’d say the only thing one can expect from slutty, sexy pictures are a bunch of guys simultaneously getting of on and making fun of whoever’s the subject.

Obviously, dudes post drunk pictures of themselves online too, but as Britney and Paris prove, nothing draws a crowd like slutty (or slutty seeming) girl—and nothing makes that crowd lose respect of the photographed faster than getting exactly what they asked for.

How interesting or challenging can a girl really be if she treats herself like an object?

Keeping those drunk antics from the public eye isn’t always about morality or being a prude, sometimes its just common sense. Post a few pictures of you making out with other girls, lifting up your shirt, or posing provocatively, and people are going to expect that from you all the time.

Go out, have fun, but think twice about making yourself into a lush purely for the benefit of others. Once the damage is done, it’s real hard to undo it…especially on the internet.

Just ask Miss New Jersey.