Yes, you read that right – 12-year-old boys. Buying condoms. And, gross, having sex.

In an effort to keep those little boys safe, Switzerland, the geniuses that they are, have introduced a smaller condom called the HotShot.  OF COURSE! Why discourage 6th graders from getting it on when you can just make a smaller condom?  Little kids should obviously use condoms, that’s just responsible…much like having sex when you’re 12.

And as long as the Swiss are creating things for our younger friends (or the kids that we babysit for…), I wouldn’t be surprised if they took it one step further. Perhaps it’s time to start making smaller cigarettes to fit in those little hands, Hello Kitty vibrators, Spongebob Squarepants flasks (for those long days on the playground), or even a Hannah Montana bong (“The climb totally speaks to me. ZOMG, why are my light up sneakers so BIG?!”).

Or maybe the swiss should stick to what they know (watches, pocket knives) and let kids be kids. My god – I know they’re growing up fast, but this is just too much.

"When a man loves a woman...."

I vividly remember the times when Salt-N-Pepa’s “Let’s Talk about Sex” would come on the radio while I was being chauffeured around by my mother. I would plead to the heavens above that she would not take this opportunity to actually talk about sex with me. I dreaded the conversation that I knew was coming.

I thought Chrissy’s mom in Now and Then explained it perfectly when she said: “All women have a garden, and a garden needs a big hose to water it…or a small hose… as long as it works.” That was all I needed to hear on the topic of coitus. Plus, I would probably vomit if I ever heard the phrase “blow job” leave my mother’s lips.  And fortunately for me, I never had to.

Whether she figured the sex ship had already left my harbor, or she truly and sincerely believed that I was, and am, still as pure as they day she birthed me, my mother has successfully avoided the topic of sex with me for the past 22 years. And that’s too bad, because a new study is preaching a much earlier age to have The Talk.

According to Dr. Mark Schuster’s study, far too often parents wait too long to address the topic with their children to point where the conversation falls of deaf and already de-virginized ears. So he advises parents to explain the birds and bees (and wrapping those birds and bees in latex) to their kids at the middle school age at the latest, before they even start thinking about sex.

Yes. The Talk. At 13. Holy hell.

I understand the importance of The Talk, and I understand that girls and boys are giving it up much earlier these days (thank you, Britney), but I just can’t even imagine having my parents sit me down with a banana and a condom on my way out to a friend’s bat mitzvah to explain how safe sex works. Hell,  to this very day I still cringe when a sex scene comes on T.V. when I’m watching with my parents. It’s just uncomfortable and makes me think they might take that moment to bust out the anatomically correct male model and explain his reproductive parts to me. And at the ripe age of 22, I’m still not sure I’m ready for it.

Did you get The Talk? How old were you?

Well, this kid's screwed.

Sixth grade was a rough year for me. I was sitting at the semi-popular table at lunch and was delusional enough to think I was the cat’s pajamas. Looking back, I simply was not. Maybe because I used phrases like “the cat’s pajamas.”  And now, a Swedish study is telling me that my unpopularity will cause me to suffer from heart disease and diabetes later in life and I will most likely start doing drugs and try to kill myself.

If I had known this when I was 13, I would have combed my hair on a more regular basis.

The study, which is most definitely making me want to eat enough candy to put me in a diabetic coma/do drugs/crawl into my bed and cry, was done by Stockholm University and the Karolinska Institute and assessed children in sixth grade for their degree of “popularity, power and social status.”

Now, I have to ask: What kind of power were they expecting from a 13-year-old child? His ability to convince a girl in his class to go 7 Minutes in Heaven with him?

Popularity is such a trivial theory. And no, I’m not just saying this because I’m bitter that I’m at greater risk for alcohol dependency than others. Popularity in middle school ran parallel to who had the best desserts in his or her Power Rangers/My Little Pony lunchbox. By eighth grade, you were considered a cool girl if you had boobs and a cool guy if you were allowed to touch them. If you made it to second base, you were destined to be popular in high school. And if you went to an all-girls high school like I did, well no one was popular in that case.

I got to college and finally came to terms with my own social status, wherever I happened to fall on the social food chain. But now I’m learning that I can never truly leave my unpopularity in the past, as it will have a long-term impact on my identity, behavior and ambitions.

Currently, I feel pretty good about myself. No sign of diabetes and no one has had to talk me off the ledge just yet, but who knows. Perhaps the time I split my pants during a talent show performance and my entire middle school laughed me off the stage will be the cause of my ultimate demise 20 years from now.

But a recent article now has me thinking that these girls are a whole new generation of slut, wearing their sexual history on their sleeves.

The gist of the article is that a middle school in Colorado has banned rubber bracelets because they believe the students are participating in “snap games.” No, that’s not some sort of game where you pull back the rubber bracelet and snap your friend’s wrist to make her scream bloody murder. It’s actually when students wear different bracelets to represent their participation in certain sexual acts.

Pause.
WHAT!?

I always thought these bracelets were sorta ugly, but knowing they actually represent BJs on the bus and getting down and dirty with a boy at a bar mitzvah makes me feel all kinds of gross and old. Back in my day we wore the rubber bracelets to support a meaningful cause. We had ones in remembrance of 9/11 and we had pink bracelets with the cancer ribbon to support loved ones battling the disease. We didn’t walk around with an arm full of “Suck the Penis” bracelets pledging our allegiance to the adolescent sex cause.

But what’s worse than actually taking part in this fad is the fact that administrators think banning the things is going to put the kabosh on recess romps. I’m positive that most of these girls are just wearing the stupid bracelets so that they don’t get ousted by Slutty Stacey at the next lunch table meeting. And the ones who actually are participating in this game can just text their new boyfriend their sexual resume instead of displaying it publicly on their arm.

Seriously, can we get these kids some damn sex education, please? Maybe focusing our efforts on teaching girls how to use a rubber instead of banning rubber (bracelets) would be more productive…

(Also productive: starting this fad on a college campus. If those college boys joined in it might save us all a lot of time weeding out the manwhores….)

You'll regret those fashion decisions one day, kids. Trust.

Now that we are all college students our life is full of stress – classes, jobs, and, oh yeah, that little task of figuring out what to do with the rest of our lives. I’m sure that on more than one occasion we have all stopped and wished we could go back to our carefree childhood years for at least a day:

Coming home from school to a Swiss Cake Roll waiting for you and eating it layer by layer while watching episodes of Sister Sister and The Secret World of Alex Mack. Then chatting on AIM for hours on end to all of our “homies” about the “phat!” shoes we wore that day.

Ah, that was the life.

But as wonderful as it was, there is one aspect of my childhood that I pray never comes back to haunt me: my wardrobe.

I blame my shopping addiction and poor fashion choices on my mother. From a very young age she had me convinced that a new dress was needed for every new event that popped up on the schedule. That being said, when there was a new trend on the market, I was one of the first ones to have it. Then? Cool. Now? The reason for many an embarrassing photo (which I very purposely left at home when I moved to campus). Looking back on the trends of our middle school days, I am left sitting on my floor surrounded by piles of reputation-killing photos wondering what the eff we were thinking back then…

The Scrunchy

I know every single one of you had a scrunchy. The larger than life hair-tie that could have held up a horse’s mane was definitely unnecessary for the sliver of a ponytail that covered a nine-year-old’s head. You had to have one in every color to match every outfit, and I even remember wearing them on my wrist, like they even had a chance in hell as working as a bracelet.

Overalls

I’m not sure if “milkmaid” was an actual trend or style featured in fashion magazines in the early 90’s, but it was in my world. I wore overalls every other day, and when feeling particularly adventurous let one strap hang down as if “not having time to finish dressing” made me instantly cooler. And when my beloved ‘ralls developed a hole in the knee, I thought it was awesome that my mom let me pick out a patch at the fabric store and sew it overtop.

She also did this to my…

Bell Bottoms (with platforms, of course)

Yes, the jeans that I could have climbed into through one leg. But they looked great, especially when balanced out by my footwear, which always gave me a good three inches of height (and 6 inches of width). My clunky shoe of choice was a Skechers platform sneaker. I also had a pair of chunky Mary Janes, which were always worn with a…

Skort

And this is where things get a little fuzzy. Would I ever in a million years where a skort again? No chance in hell. But I can see the practicality. Young girls (and Hollywood starlets, apparently) aren’t always totally aware of leg position and skorts made it much easier to sit Indian-style during class (or a rousing game of duck, duck, goose on the playground), instead of doing the awkward connect-knees-and-fall-to-the-floor deal. But that combo was the fashion equivalent to the mullet – it just doesn’t work.

Poncho

I rocked the knit poncho like it was my after-school job. Because you never know if you’re going to get caught in a blizzard and need 13 pounds of fabric draped around your body to keep from freezing to death. Not that a poncho would protect your armpits or hands if such a situation arose…between the school bus and the classroom. But the fringed edges were so cute and the poncho was so chic! Especially in pictures, where it looks like I skinned some road kill and wrapped it around my shoulders.

The Tech Vest

OMG, the Old Navy Tech Vest. After seeing the commercials for them every day after school and dreaming of when I could feel the itchy, felt around my own neck, I begged my parents to get me one. Everyone else was rocking them in gym class and I felt so left out. All those pockets. All that warmth. Sigh. When I finally got one for Christmas, I was ecstatic…and so was my little brother who got the exact same one.

Wearing the Old Navy Tech Vest? Fail.
Matching your brother (color and all) in the yearly family photo? Double fail.

I know I’m not the only one who regrets over 80% of my middle school attire.
What pieces of your childhood wardrobes have you asking yourself “WTF was I thinking?!”

Even if we’ve blocked out selective memories of our childhood (the dentist…I shudder at the thought), we all remember elementary school recess. Now that I’m through with my public school education, I’ve been taking the time to reminisce about my favorite memories from those days. Man, did I love that half hour of pegging younger kids in the head with kickballs (which they totally deserved, by the way, just for being there).

At the risk of sounding like a creeper with a window-less van parked 100 yards from a playground, here are some of my favorite games from recess that I wish were appropriate for eighteen year-olds to play. Note: I like the games…not the kids.

Name of the Game: Indian Pin (a slight variation on dodgeball)
Why it Rocked: Since regular dodgeball was banned in my school, we had to be a bit more creative with our recess games. Indian Pin was a favorite variation on dodgeball that we adapted from our gym class. The official object of the game was to knock down the opposing team’s pin, but since we had a bunch of kickballs and an unlimited capacity for evil, we would forget about the pins and just give the other team hell. Back in my tomboy days, I would pick off the other team’s members one by one. I guess I had more balls than many of the boys in my class.

Name of the Game: Four Square
Why it Rocked: Being king in a game of four square made you an automatic recess rock star. The ball was literally in your court. As there are an infinite number of possible rules for the game, from the fair and just to the downright cruel (two words: cherry bombs), the power of the king is extremely enticing. I was always partial to the “old school” set of rules – volleys, single-taps, and double-taps – since they allowed games to go on for a long time. Benevolent despotism was my style, but other rulers were not as kind. The Lemon Drop Massacre of ’01 is proof of that. And I still have nightmares.

Name of the Game: Pick-up Soccer
Why it Rocked: Although soccer isn’t known as a recess sport, it was one of the ultimate competitive games that we played in elementary school. We played in tournament style, with multiple teams all pitted against one another. The last team standing won a great deal of glory, but at a high cost: since we didn’t have referees, we could play as dirty as we wanted to with no penalty at all. The “supervising” teachers were totally clueless as to why several kids returned to class with huge grass stains on their butts and hideous scrapes on their knees. But those cuts and bruises were like badges of honor to all the soccer kids, even if we cried a little when we got them.

Name of the Game: Wall Ball
Why it Rocked: One of the privileges that came with being the top dogs of the school (i.e. fifth graders) was access to the coveted wall ball court. Dozens of kids played at a time, taking the simple tennis ball game to the extreme. Wall ball was the pinnacle of elementary school recess for us. It was the most fast-paced, most competitive, and sweatiest of all the recess games. You had to constantly be on your toes, or else you wouldn’t catch the ball making a bee-line for your head at light speed. Or at least that’s what the injured kids would cry when the ball knocked the wind out of them. A merciless game, that wall ball. To think a little tennis ball could cause so much hurt!

What were some of the games that rocked your school playground?

Remember when you were 13 and everything seemed like the biggest deal ever and “OMG you are going to die because life is just so bad”? Oh, and you were wearing giant bell bottom jeans and a shirt with a condom pocket on the sleeve? Yeah, those were the days.

Don’t you wish you could hop into a DeLorean and go back and give that girl some (fashion) advice? Maybe a little nugget of wisdom to make those angsty teenage years just a little less angsty? Unfortch, we can’t go back there (or maybe it’s a good thing – I don’t like looking at pictures of myself with that perm, so interacting with it in person would be devastating), but if you could, what would you say?

This week I asked the CollegeCandy team to share their life lessons with their younger selves.
What wisdom would you impart?

Sarabeth – University of Texas: Save yourself a lot of trouble and stop hanging out with all the guys and try putting on some lip gloss before you get to high school. Maybe then you will get an actual date to winter formals, prom, etc., instead of gay men. Kthxbye.

Vivian – Rutgers University: Yeah, you know those boobs mommy promised would come in eventually? You can stop waiting – they aren’t coming.

K – GW: Dear awkward 13 (cough 16) year-old-self, piling on the Clinique and trying to fit in is hopeless and unsatisfying. Just be yourself and happiness will find you.

Maddie – Tufts: Never shave in between your eyebrows (I know, embarrassing…). Have someone show you how to use a tweezer.

Kathryn – University of Wisconsin-Madison: It’s OK to not know what you want to do with your life. Hell, I’m a college graduate and I still have no clue!

Brithny- Duke: 2 AM is the worst time to make mistakes. And, BTW, overalls with a rainbow turtleneck is not a good look for anyone. ANYONE.

Kari- Florida State: Don’t ever text him more than twice if he doesn’t text you back! Seriously. Put down the phone…

Melanie Danko: Dear Melanie (yenior year of high school) on St. Patty’s Day,
Don’t drink the Bacardi 151. Just. Don’t.
Love,
Future Melanie

Teresa – UC San Diego:  MEN ARE JERKS. Be careful with your heart.  Also, never wear velour stirrup pants again.

Cristina – Michigan State University: “F**k Bitches, Get money” No seriously, be careful what girls you trust, and save your money.

Lauren H – The New School: He is not as amazing as you think he is; that’s why he has the confederate flag tattooed on his stomach.

Lena Chen – Harvard: All-pink business ensembles are an internship NO!

Kiki – University of Missouri: Smile more. Do not pour your teenage-heart out via cryptic Xanga posts ridden with Fall Out Boy lyrics. And, for the love of 80’s rock stars everywhere, lay off the Wet ‘n Wild eyeliner.

Carly – Grinnell: CHILL OUT! Nothing that you think is the end of the world actually is.

Elizabeth-University of Missouri: Hair grows, braces eventually come off and baby fat does disappear. Oh, and overalls are always a bad decision. Ditto with scrunchies.

Vanessa – Sheridan College: They’re not lying, high school really will fly by.

But then, I was driving home from a concert and heard a gem from the past on the radio (“My Neck, My Back” by Khia, anyone?). This led to a conversation with my friend about songs that we used to listen to in middle school that we definitely shouldn’t have.

Seriously, it’s amazing how many songs somehow slipped under my Mother’s radar in middle school and managed to taint my twelve year old ears.

So, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to make a playlist with all those little ditties that we all LURVED in school, even though we most likely weren’t 100% sure what the lyrics really meant.

My Neck, My Back – Khia. Obvi. But seriously, WTH? I know they didn’t play the unedited version on the radio, but this sh*t was just NASTY. I don’t really care to hear about your penchant for having your you-know-what licked, Khia. Thanks.

What’s Your Fantasy? – Ludacris. I thought I was the coolest girl on the bus in 8th grade when I used to blast this shizz on my Walkman (oh, those were the days). Everybody’s favorite part: “Rough sex, make it hurt…”

Too Close – Next. You’re makin’ it hard for me….enough said.

2 Become 1 – Spice Girls. I think I vaguely understood the meaning of 2 becoming 1 back in the day (Two souls coming together? Aw!) But, giving the song a second (okay, millionth) listen a good 10 years later changes everything. Those sneaky, sneaky little Spice Girls.

Nookie – Limp Bizkit. NO. clue.

When The Lights Go Out – 5ive. I remember handing out this single in the gift bags at my 6th grade birthday party. Bet everyone’s parents appreciated that.

Touch It – Monifa. Ima show your body what your tongues doin’ wrong…This boys shyness got me wet like crazy…I want it more and more when you call my name and spank me. Really, Monifa?! REALLY?

Nice and Slow – Usher. I just wanna take it nice and slowww….

No Diggity – Blackstreet and Dr. Dre I remember the DJ spinning this track quite frequently at “Teen Nites” at my junior high. Right along with..

Pony – Ginuwine. Can’t get much more direct than “I’m horny, let’s do it.” I remember telling my mom it was about dancing.

How Many Licks? – Lil Kim. Okay, Kimmy, now I know you weren’t talking about Tootsie Pops.

Listen to the entire dirty mix (besides Monifa – guess no one really cares about her) here!

Any songs you remember from your younger days that you can’t believe you actually were allowed to listen to? Leave them in the comments!

Down: College campuses are breeding grounds for disease.

Up: We found a beer that can cure cancer.

Down: Dudes hate our favorite boots.

Up: We found the best shopping site and we got a hot new bag.

Down: We aren’t sure if we’re sexually active.

Up: We learned how to muster the courage to hop on top.

Down: We sent drunk emails to the boys we love

Up: We found some great makeup to cover up the hangover in the morning.

Down: Middle schoolers have to take the PPSAT.

Up: We aren’t in middle school anymore.

Another up is that it’s Friday and we have a great playlist to dance to and the perfect outfit to wear out to the bar. Things are definitely on the up and up from here on out.

Happy Friday!

And remember even before that when you were a sophomore and you had to take the PSAT? The Saturday morning spent at school instead of in bed (with reruns of Saved By the Bell), and then that stupid breakdown that told you what your future held (mine said “guidance counselor”)? Yeah, that totally sucked too.

Especially since I hate kids.

Looks like those fools at College Board (those are the people behind the SAT and PSAT, by the way) want to ruin yet another part of your life. This time: middle school. They are sick of losing potential testers to the dreaded ACT (which was so. much. better.), so they decided to rope em in early. Like, in 8th grade.

The College Board claims that this new test will point out areas that students need to work on to be successful in both high school and college, but it is basically just another way to make a few bucks, freak parents the eff out, and piss off 13 year olds across the country.

I may dislike children, but I still feel for them. Another test? There is already plenty of controversy surrounding the validity of the SAT to predict future success, so how can anyone think this test will be any different? And I made it through high school and college successfully without this test, so why burden these poor, defenseless kids (who already have enough to worry about with braces and acne) with another test?!

Just be glad this happened long after we finished all that standardized testing. Although, if College Board has its way, there may be a standardized test for getting a job. Or finding a new apartment. Or having kids.

But maybe that one won’t be so bad.

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