Photo by Lisa Randolph

Most women wear makeup on a daily basis…and unfortunately most women also make beauty blunders on a daily basis. But it’s not their fault; it’s like we’re born with some sort of innate makeup knowledge. As a beauty blogger, I’ve noticed three mistakes pop up again and again on my friends’ faces. So while I can’t offer help for every possible situation, I can help you avoid the three biggest beauty mistakes. Read More »

Ahhhhh, the first date.  It can be the start of something great or can easily take a quick turn down the crapper.  You may have thought the date went as perfect as can be, but if Mr. Lover Boy hasn’t called you back for another one in over three days, chances are it didn’t.

Instead of sitting there overanalyzing every single detail of the date and what could have gone wrong (like we all do), I’ll make it simple for you. Here are the mistakes everyone makes on their first date and what you can do to avoid them.

1. Not dressing for the occasion. If you’re going to a baseball game, don’t wear stiletto heels. If you’re going out to eat somewhere nicer than McDonald’s, change out of your sweats. It’s as simple as that. And if you’re Lady Gaga, obviously no rules apply to you.

How to Avoid Making the Mistake: Make sure you know where you’re going on the date. If it’s a surprise, it’s always better to play it safe and wear something casual. Not too sloppy, not too dressy.

2. Talking about exes. Talking about ex-boyfriends isn’t just annoying on dates— it’s annoying all the time. 3 words: Get. Over. It. And if you can’t, maybe you shouldn’t be dating quite yet. If you do decide it’s time to enter the wonderful world of dating, make sure you keep the conversation far away from ex-land. No guy wants to sit and listen to you whine about how his eyebrows aren’t groomed as well as your ex-boyfriend’s.

Read More »

If you Google “Post-Grad,” a lot of articles come up about suffering from depression once you graduate college. And yes, I will say that it can be depressing at times, but really — it’s not so bad. Although the last six months have gone by incredibly fast, I have learned a lot when it comes to adjusting to life outside of college.

So, here’s the ultimate post-grad survival kit (or at least what I’ve figured out over the last six months):

1. Stay Busy – Keep your ass moving at all times. Don’t hang out on the couch day after day, keep busy – whether it’s working a job, interning, or taking pottery classes.  Do anything that will keep you busy. I’ve thrown myself into the LSAT, and trust me, it’s kept me occupied. Who knows how I’ll feel once my LSAT journey is over, but for now … it’s what I do to keep busy. Busy leaves little room to do #2.

2. Don’t reminisce too much – If you do nothing but think about college, you’re going to do nothing but miss college. Avoid this as much as you can. If something comes up in conversation, talk about it, but don’t sit in your room and look at pictures from your sophomore year every night. It’s okay to admit that college was one of the best times of your life, but it’s not okay to let that ‘best time of your life’ define the rest of your life. You should have the attitude that the best is yet to come and college was just a stepping stone. Or yeah, you’ll be depressed like all those articles say. Read More »

If you’re a recent post-grad, chances are you don’t have anything figured out. Or maybe you have some of it figured out, but when you close your eyes and picture yourself five years down the line, things are somewhat blurry.

This probably gives you heart palpitations. I get it. The future can be scary, especially when you have no idea what it will hold.

But really, so what?

If you’re a recent post-grad, you truly are at an advantage. While it sucks to be so discombobulated during this time, it’s kind of a blessing in disguise. Think about it … you can still attribute your mistakes and mistrials under the files appropriately titled: “Lack of experience” or “Youthful Ignorance.”

OK, so you may feel old (I know I do sometimes, especially when I try to party like my freshman self), but the truth is, you’re not. In today’s society, we constantly hear “30 is the 20!” and that means that 22 is the new 18. And that means you’ve got a little more time to figure things out than you probably think you do. It’s easy to rush into the future trying to plan as much as you can, but really, wouldn’t you rather take a few risks and screw up now before you are in your mid-30s with a mortgage and a couple kids? Read More »

Finally, after weeks of late nights, early mornings, and far too many Doritos, I can see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Sure, I’ve got to get through a few more exams, sell my books, pack up my life and make the big trek home, but at least I know the end (and a margarita on the front lawn) is near. And that feels good.

You know what else feels good? Well, besides these delicious t-shirt sheets on an unseasonably cold May morning…. Taking a break from my textbooks and flashcards and thinking about something that won’t be written in a Blue Book in the near future.

So let us get to this week’s Would You Rather….. Think, vote, share. Then return to your regularly scheduled cram sesh. Read More »

“What happened last night?”

Ahh, the blackout. These words have become oh-so-familiar over the past two years I’ve spent at this fine university. Sunday mornings – Gatorade and a McDonald’s breakfast sandwich in hand – I sit in my living room with my roommates, attempting to piece together the events from the night before. Looking through pictures, decoding unintelligible text messages sent to the cute guy from Calculus, my friend apologizing for puking on my shoes or stealing my pizza before I had a chance to get the door.

I can’t be mad at them though, or even blame them. Sometimes the a-a-a-a-a-alcohol takes over and there is no turning back. They are no longer the same person and are going to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Like the infamous girl-on-girl makeout sesh which is now plastered all over Facebook.

But like they taught you in elementary school, it’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt. And recently, that person was me.

My boyfriend and I have been together for over two vomit-includingly cute years. We moved in together in August to a new apartment where he makes me dinner after a long night at work, and we’ve even talked marriage.

We were the stereotypical happy couple until about two weeks ago during a blackout sorta night.

All of my friends were finally back in town before this spring (spring? There’s two feet of snow outside) semester started, so naturally we had to celebrate get wasted. After a long night of cheap vodka and too many shots at the bar, we went back to my friend’s apartment for afties. Just another successful night.

That is, until I realized that my boyfriend was missing and I had no idea where he was. I started roaming around the apartment. I looked in the kitchen, then the bathroom. Nothing. Finally, I peeked my head into my friend’s bedroom and there he was. Naked. On top of a girl. Who was also naked. Read More »

Dearest Sloptart,

As much as I would love to silently judge your drunken mistakes, I can’t help but  laugh it off, talk about you to my friends and hope that I just caught you after you had a horrible week (which is slightly understandable, right?) However, in most cases, I caught you in your element, flashing the party your new bedazzled thong while sloppily trying to climb up on the beer pong table to dance.  Ohh, here we go…

There are a few ways that you can tell you’re “that mess” the entire party is talking about (but you can’t hear because you’re busy screaming the lyrics of “If You Seek Amy”). Read More »

I Love pizza. With a capital “L”.

There is nothing better than a crispy crust smothered in hot, gooey cheese. Add some grilled onions and mushrooms and I am dunzo.

The only thing better than a slice of pizza, actually, is an entire pie a slice of pizza after a night of drinking.

Yes, like unattractive guys and all songs written and produced in the 80’s, my love for pizza grows immensely when alcohol is involved.

It is like I am one of Pavlov’s dogs; the minute I taste beer, I start drooling for a slice of pie.

My cravings only grow more severe as the night progresses. With every downed shot I imagine my date with my precious pizza pie. So, when the opportunity finally presents itself, I go to town without any thought given to potential collateral damage.

Like my tongue, for instance.

Or the roof of my mouth.

What? Like you could wait the 20 minutes it takes to get home, the 10 minutes it takes to decide what delectable toppings/debate the need for a side of cheesy breadsticks, and the 35 minutes to actually get the pizza and NOT dive right in the minute it arrives? Read More »

Not so long ago, in a fantasyland far, far away called College, I was your average little freshman, running around wide-eyed and ready to meet as many college boys as possible. And, because I went Greek, I pretty much had to find some unsuspecting (i.e., completely suspecting) frat boy to accompany me to winter semiformal.

Somehow, I found the one non-douchey frat boy ever to exist. He was perfect: tall, dark, and beautiful, with a 4.0, perfect teeth, a lot of cute friends, and – the kicker—a self-pact to not drink until he was 21. Which meant there would be no pre-game, just… game. And I had none, because he was that hot.

I’m not entirely sure why he said yes, and I’m not sure why I thought I was even cool enough to ask this guy out, but somehow the transaction occurred and there we were, sitting, soberly, talking for two hours while my friends drunkenly danced and ran around. Ever the gentleman, he took me to pseudo-dinner at 2:30 AM, got his leftovers wrapped and then drove me back to my dorm. And so it was time to say goodnight.

Ever the self-conscious one, I assumed that he wasn’t interested, but had put on a happy face so as not to crush my little freshman dreams. And just as I went to kiss him on the cheek, his mouth landed fully on mine. I was shocked. He hadn’t tried to make a move all night!

So clearly, the normal reaction is to kiss right back and linger a little longer, possibly suggest you get a tour of his house, etc. But no, rather than being caught up in the moment I said, “MUAH.”

Yes. That’s right. Right after he makes his move, the first thing that my body, which must hate me, does, is pucker right back up and say “MUAH.” Read More »

Dear Friends/Family/That Random Taxi Driver That Picked Me Up and Took Me Home After Finding Me Face First On The Sidewalk,

Sometimes I like to drink. A lot. And on those occasions I may or may not (okay, always) do stupid things. It is not me, you see; it is the alcohol. In fact, it is not until the morning after when I am chugging Gatorade and trying to get my bed to stop spinning that I even realize exactly what went down. And I feel bad – really, I do. So, I want to take this opportunity to apologize for it all.

To The Bartender: I am sorry that I hopped over the bar and drank beer directly from the tap. And attempted to spray my friends with Tonic Water. And knocked over that giant stack of glasses….

To My Best Friend: I am sorry that I bit your hand when you tried to take my falafel away from me. Yes, I know I said we would share. I am also sorry that I stole your shoe…and drank a beer out of it. And that I peed in your garbage can. Oh, wait. That was your sock drawer? My bad.

To My Friends: I am sorry that I called your girlfriend “Gorilla”…to her face (but I am more sorry that you are dating such a mess). Sorry that I brought that random dude back to the apartment and accidentally took him to your room. I will wash your sheets…and rug. Oh, and your teddy bear. Read More »