Look, I’m all about being an American, but if there’s one other place on this planet I’d want to live, it’s Australia. Not only is the country beautiful, but it’s given us KugelHopf, a Mary Kate and Ashley movie, Kangaroos and, of course, some very delicious eye candy.

And as today, January 26th, is Australia Day, it’s our duty to honor the land of Oz. But since we can’t hop on a plane, fly 24 hours and present the country with balloons and a cake, we’ll do the next best thing: ogle our favorite Aussies. And embarrass ourselves misusing Aussie slang.

G’day mates!

It’s important to remember that breast cancer does not discriminate. The American Cancer Society estimates 182,460 new cases of invasive breast cancer will be diagnosed among women in the United States this year. Here’s a look at some well known faces who beat the disease and lived to tell about it.

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So, I realize that a lot my peers have a strange fixation with this thing called “the summer hook up”. As my friend and co-blogger Sol so eloquently, (actually she just corrected me, it was belligerently) put it;

Solgurl88: IT’S THE SAME THING AS HOOKING UP IN THE WINTER

Solgurl88: how come people never say

Solgurl88: ‘winter hookup!’(?)

I added that question mark in there for ya, buddy. But poor AIM grammar aside, I have to agree with her. A hook up is a hook up, why the classification?

Well, I suppose for people who vacation in a foreign country, or somewhere other than where they normally reside, the ‘summer hook up’ symbolizes the opportunity for a no-strings attached ‘relationship’ of sorts. (Those people are not to be confused with me, I am doomed to work endless summer jobs with either all females or no attractive co-workers for all college eternity.)

But what I’ve found from my friends is that these relationships end up with every string securely in place. Or so they think until both parties return home and continue on with how their life was before meeting the other.

Perhaps I am cynical and jealous. Let me rephrase, I know I am cynical and jealous of those who can form any kind of lasting connection. But why, if these famed “summer romances” mean so much that the involved parties, can they not keep it going, or better yet duplicate a lasting relationship on campus? Is it the thought that you’re not bound to seeing this person day in and day out for the rest of their college lives that lifts some weight and lends a catalyst to the forming of true affection for one another?

Or is it just that we assign immense sentimental properties to this time of year and secretly hope we’ll end up like Sandra Dee and Danny Zuko?

If the answer is the latter, then I don’t know whether to rejoice because there is still some sense of romanticism left in the female mentality, or dismay because it means we’re all ready to trade in our cardigans for some hooker clothes if it means doing the love shack with John Travolta.

I warned you. I’m a jaded and bitter girl. I still love Grease, so I guess I’ll compromise and just start categorizing and expecting my hookups from all four of the seasons.

“I can’t wait to start my winter hook up jacket collection.”

Sounds good to me; free stuff and appeasing Sol’s cause to give equal hook up rights to every time of the year. Everyone goes home happy, all the time. Except for maybe the freezing boys who lend me their coats.