I ran out of post it notes.

Now to you this may not seem like a moment worth mentioning, but to me this is a monumental deal. You see, back when I was a freshman, fresh faced and eager, I did things like shopping for school supplies. I bought pens, and paper, highlighters and binders, and, most importantly, I bought post it notes. (I’m an organization freak. For my kind, it’s the little things like multi-colored sticky paper that make life worth living, okay?) But these weren’t just any notes. These were the super stack, a 12 pad pack of multicolored 4X4 sticky notes. I was sure they would last me all four years of college.

That was before I started working on my senior thesis.

Thesis projects require note taking. They require page marking. They require a lot of post its. I printed journal article after journal article, photocopied book after book, stuck notes in chapter after chapter. This summer I finished the blue pad. In the past month alone I went through the purple, and this past week I finished the hot pink pad. My post it notes are no more. Seven months before the end of my college career. (I’m a little heartbroken. Don’t judge.)

That alone would be enough to make me reconsider my commitment to this whole “senior thesis” thing, but I assure you I have plenty more reasons. I started this thing back in May. I picked a topic, and wrote out a proposal. Over the summer I started doing some light research, reread the novels I was working with, and marked the important passages.  It didn’t seem all that bad, but this past summer I didn’t have four other courses to worry about. Now I do. Needless to say, things have gotten a bit more complicated. Read More »

Oh October Cosmo, how you make me lust for the crisp weather and Fall fashions you print on each page (that I won’t get to experience until mid-October down here in good ol’ humid-ass Florida). I can’t wait to make Katie Lee Joel’s ridiculously scrumptious looking bread pudding, and I found your expose on why Audrina is the new Heidi intellectually stimulating.

Your interview with Megan Fox had me admiring her acting talents (who could forget her as whats-her-name in that one Lindsay Lohan movie ), and getting annoyed with her while she pretended not to know she’s hot. I was beginning to worry about finding material for this month’s Cosmo Says! Then I turned to page 72, so that relationship expert Matt Titus could explain to me “Why He Calls You a Nag When You’re Not.”

Cosmo Says: Because his Mom told him what to do for 18 years, every man will resent doing what their wife or girlfriend asks them to do out of the fear that they will revert back to childhood.

Kari Says: Seriously? I understand that this article is meant to make me LOL (which it did, but I was laughing at it, not with it), however I tend to disagree. It’s one thing when Cosmo’s ladies grossly over-generalize the male population, but dude—you’re throwing your own kind under the bus here! Scientific polling of actual guys (a frat-tastic sophomore and two first year med students) shows that this is BS: guys don’t have a problem doing favors for their s.o.’s (and it doesn’t remind them of their adolescent chore-list).

Cosmo Says: Men know that calling you a nag is hitting way below the belt and will send you straight into mid-life crisis mode.

Kari Says: I don’t care if you call me a nag, but you’re going to keep hearing me repeat myself until you actually do the simple task that I asked of you. Come on, you have to already know this! Read More »

Midterms are still weeks away, and already you can’t stand your roommate. Being forced to share such small quarters as a dorm room with another person can take its toll on one’s sanity. Perhaps you got a random roommate, and the two of you just never clicked, or maybe you chose to room with a friend, only to find that spending every waking moment with her is a nightmare. You want to do a housing swap, but you’re settled into your room. Problem is, so is she. The gauntlet has been thrown; how do you make her move out?

1.Leave Passive-Agressive Notes.

The PAN is a surefire way to irk any person who gets it. You know what I’m talking about: Post-It notes that are written in a polite tone of voice, yet irritate you more than your mom nagging you to clean your room in high school. In fact, often the PAN comes off as sounding like your mom. I’m getting annoyed just thinking about PANs! So, use this technique to get under the roommate’s skin. Read More »