[Life isn’t black and white. As much as we wish we simply loved or hated things, there is often that whole annoying gray area in the middle. Like, we love how hot stilettos look, but hate the blisters the next morning. Or how we love sweatpants, but hate how fat we get when we wear em. Damn you, gray area; you make decision-making that much more complicated!]

The world is a changin’ my friends, and I so don’t want to be left behind. That’s kind of how I feel with the whole Blackberry/iPhone phenomenon. Here I am with my little, dinky LG Chocolate. I used to think my phone was so cool- – I mean, it’s frickin red and can play music — but now I’m not so sure.

Should I upgrade? Help, I’m torn!

Love it:

I want to be one of the cool kids typing away on my Blackberry during class. Even though I’m basically glued to my laptop, I can’t keep it with me 24/7. Damn thing doesn’t fit in my back pocket. If I had a PDA, I’d have access to my email all the time. Even more, I’d have Google for looking up info and phone numbers, a map so I don’t have to stop at shady gas stations and ask for directions, and other super cool shiz that I can’t get on my Chocolate. Plus, the people at Apple have come up with some pretty sweet apps. I totally want to have a personal trainer on my cellphone. I’m pretty sure they have an app for everything… at least that’s what the commercials tell me! Read More »

Big effing deal, you have a boyfriend. The rest of the world really doesn’t need to know how much you love each other, how much it hurts to wait five minutes between tonsil-hockey sessions, or… well, how much you’ve got him whipped. Sure, I’ve been in love before, but in a watch-the-sunrise-over-bong-rips kinda way, not a need-to-keep-my-hand-on-your-ass-to-claim-my-territory kinda way. Here are some of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to coupling up.

1. Making out in totally non-romantic places.

If I see the two of you pawing each other at the Trevi Fountain in Italy, I’ll forgive you. Now THAT is romantic. But seriously – to the couple who gets on the dirty, overcrowded subway and feels the need to look into each other’s eyes, whisper sweet nothings, and make out for all of three stops – save it. Same for the couple who starts going at it in the checkout line at Rite-Aid. Unless you’re buying condoms, why are you so worked up already? And if you are buying condoms, then save it for the bedroom.

2. Sharing a calendar.

Just because you’re a couple doesn’t mean you can’t be individuals. I hate the girl who’s there for you every time… as long as she’s single. Once the “relationship” label gets slapped on some people, they have to synchronize their scheds, and like, can’t even go to the bathroom without making sure it won’t disrupt Date Night (the third one this week). It’s great when a girl can bring her boyfriend out with her friends, and vice versa, but if it’s a “Girls’ Night” and Henry’s trailing behind… it’s effing annoying. Read More »

Move over Crackberry. Step aside, iPhone. There’s a new boy in town and he aims to be bigger and better than his predecessors. (Note: and, no, John McCain didn’t invent this one, either.)

Rumors have been circling for awhile now that Google would be creating a phone, and in just a few days we will finally get to see it. It is called the Dream, which is quite a name to live up to. The information about this badboy is being kept under major lock and key, but many people (read: techy geeks) are sure that this phone will give Apple a run for its money.

If you are really nerdy, like me, you can watch the demo video to see what The Dream has to offer. But if you don’t want to waste 7 minutes, I can sum it up for you:

It looks and acts a lot like the iPhone: touchscreen, internet, Google maps…

I don’t know much about technology, or programming or phones (beyond texting), but I am not sure this Google phone is so revolutionary. I guess I’ll just have to wait until September 23rd to see. For now, I’m holding tight to my iPhone.

Welcome to college, freshmen!

You may have made it through Welcome Week without any run-ins with the campus police (congrats!), but you still have plenty of opportunities to meet them up close and personal.

There are going to be many times this year and well into your college career that you will find yourself surrounded by alcohol. And, naturally, you are going to want to partake. Just beware–while you are navigating the university party scene, your RA’s, Campus Police, and Public Safety units are gearing up to bust underage revelers.

Here are some tips on how you can avoid getting written up before your first semester is over.

1. Don’t act like ‘The Freshman.’

Just because you suddenly have access to alcohol, it doesn’t mean you need to consume ALL of the alcohol at once. Even if the cops are out and about, they don’t have the manpower to hunt down every single underage boozer. So, they’ll zero in on the kid stumbling around with a trash can on his head before thinking twice about the passive mingler. The same goes with your RA, who really doesn’t want to walk in on you peeing in the corner of elevator. Read More »

Bye, Bye, Bye Lou Pearlman!

Oh, to be John Mayer’s camera.

I really think teenagers are getting dumber by the minute–er, MySpace

Ali Lohan: 14 going on 40

It’s summertime: learn how to apply bronzer

I take back all earlier judgement: I kind of dig Natalie Portman and her boo

Libertarian Ocean Colonies are totally the new Facebook

Heidi and Spencer’s PDA and gender-stereotyping outfits

Don’t forget to call Grandma–it’s Sinatra Day!

Beyonce is too famous for church or modesty

My future and I collided last night at the grocery store.

It wasn’t one of those gentle brushes with fate, like when you see someone who kind of resembles the person you think you might age into, someone who’s thinner and more fashionable than you’d imagined a fifty-year-old self to be. There was no pleasant “Huh. Could be worse,” moment. This was more like getting backed into by a cement truck, with my past changing lanes to rear-end me just as I got out to check the damage.

Just before getting in line to pay for my groceries, I popped back over to the produce aisle on an organic avocado search. There were two left — how ironic for an emporium of food — two little green rocks which probably were made fun of by all the other avocados before they were sold. Disappointed, I turned back on my heels, fruitless, only forced to bob and weave around a disgustingly happy twenty-something couple who had just come in off the street.

They were hanging all over each other in front of the fresh strawberries and grapes, kissing and laughing when they weren’t content with just hanging. It was too perfect, the sex in their near future, the fruit… it was like Freud had set the scene up himself. I threw my shoulders back and carried my groceries for one to the checkout and got in line, and there she was. Read More »

How do you know when you spend too much time online?

When you forego sex for Google.

A survey polling 1,011 Americans showed that most of us can’t stay away from the internet for more than a few days without feeling anxious and “cut off” from the rest of world, while 20% of us are spending less time getting it on because we’re logged on.

“Cell phones won out over television in a question asking which device people couldn’t go without but the Internet trumped all, regarded as the most necessary” the survey claims, going on to say that most of feel like “something important” is missing if we’re not able to check email or surf the web.

I’d like to say that I’m not part of this trend, but if I did, I’d be lying. Read More »

Oh, how I love this column! Week after week I get to vent to all of you about the things that annoy us the most.

This week, I can answer my own question and say no, this is absolutely NOT necessary.

E-mails. What a great way to send someone a note, or perhaps tell them how you feel. Text messages, phone calls, even private Facebook messages are fabulous avenues for two-way communication.

Now, dear reader, please don’t think that I am not giving you enough credit by stating the obvious. I know that you are well aware of these communication methods.

So, can someone puh-lease explain why, if you and I understand how easy it is to send a private message to tell someone how we feel, those in a relationship must shout it out Leonardo DiCaprio style on the tip of the Titanic?

Thankfully, that ship sank. Wish I could say the same about the love notes posted between couples on Facebook walls.

We get it. You are in love. We know this because your relationship status says so. And that’s great for you. Embrace it! Shower each other with gifts and pet names!

Just don’t write paragraph long wall posts day after day proclaiming your love to “snuggle-button”, recapping your “incredible” weekend together and how you are counting down the minutes (three thousand four hundred and twenty-two to be exact) until you see each other next. Read More »

I live in New York City. Therefore, I should be used to Random Acts of Rudeness. Small things should no longer phase me. But because I am a nice, sweet, mostly polite girl, I am still very often radically offended and crazily frustrated by rude people acting obnoxiously. Here are a few examples of my most recent run-ins with RAR.

• At a job interview, the interviewer answers his blackberry not once, not twice, but three times in the middle of my answers to his questions. No sorry, hold on a moment, just a complete switch from looking at me and listening to typing away on his stupid toy. Each time he would chuckle at whatever inside joke was taking place on the tiny screen, leaving me nothing to do but admire the bare walls and stare out the window. Needless to say, I’m taking that job the day hell freezes over. Read More »

Like nails scratching a chalkboard, I cannot stand PDA. Some call me cold. Some call me heartless. I call myself considerate of humankind.A peck on the cheek here and there, fine. You like each other. You’re having a lot of sex. I get it. But Lapdog Syndrome seems to be the STD plaguing my peers even more so than syphilis.

You know the symptoms: the girlfriend becomes a lifeless, glassy – eyed rag doll on the overprotective boyfriend’s lap. It’s more precious than erotic, but equally gag – inducing. It’s almost as bad as the patented crotch – grab. Read More »