[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 following Christie on her quest to stop gossiping. The first few days were rough. The 2nd week was full of excuses. And then she reunited with her BFF/gossip partner in crime. How’s she doin’ now?

This week was fairly boring, I will admit. It was mostly spent packing to move into my apartment, finally leaving the country and heading back to the city. Therefore, I haven’t really hung out with people nor had much time to get really involved in any sort of gossip.

Phew.

I did, however, attend a job interview this week. The interview was going well, I was wowing her with everything I had, and then she asked, “Was there ever a time you just really didn’t get along with someone and had to be courteous toward them anyway?” Obviously, a job interview was not the place to go, “ohhhh girl, let me tell you,” so I just took a moment and smiled. This challenge has come in handy, it seemed. I told them I just didn’t get along with someone in high school, but had to be courteous to them because I didn’t want to cause a disruption in the classroom. There, nothing negative said about that person.

The old me – before this challenge – wouldn’t have left it at that, trust me. I most definitely would have used that to my advantage, adding at least one negative comment about her. Instead I seemed mature and collected. Read More »

Ladies, gentlemen: I am a slut.

No two ways around it: I like sex. I like sex with lots of different people. I like sex in lots of different ways. I like talking about sex. I like writing about sex. So I go out, and I hook up, and I do not always stick around to cuddle. This doesn’t mean that I’m all messed up inside, or that I need men’s approval (if you look at my “to do” list, you’ll see that “caring about men’s approval” is on the bottom, directly beneath “personally oversee the freezing-over of Hell”), or that I can’t be faithful or intimate when I fall in looooove.

It’s tough to define my motives for sleeping around, but, if I had to make a guess, I think it might have something to do with the fact that I have a huge freaking pleasure center in my crotch, and it feels good when people touch it. So yeah: I’m a slut. I call myself a slut. I let my friends call me a slut. I even let my dude call me a slut, although that happens exclusively in bed.

When a stranger calls me a slut, though, well…that hurts. Especially if that stranger is a girl. Read More »