Do you have a super hot professor? You know, one that makes it hard to concentrate on what he’s saying because you’re busy imagining what he looks like under that cardigan sweater? The kind that makes you want to get up every morning, get dressed (in someting low cut) and get to class early to secure a front row seat? The one that is better suited to be lying on a bear skin rug – naked – on the pages of GQ instead of lecturing on Organic Chemistry?

If so, we need your help!

CollegeCandy is teaming up with Lemondrop to find the hottest professors in the country. Yeah, yeah – they may be a rare breed, but we know there are a few out there!

If you know of any drool-worthy professors, leave us a comment with the professor’s name and school. And if you have a picture (either from your school’s site or if you can sneakily snap one during class), send it to the editors: lauren@collegecandy.com.

We can’t wait to see what you’ve got.

(Note: we make no promises regarding the use of these pictures for our own personal drool-session.)

It’s Tuesday morning. You have class at 9:00 AM. You also happened to have Dollar Pitcher night last night.

And now you want to barf.

Your head starts pounding as soon as your alarm goes off at 8:00 and you wonder with appreciation who thought to set it last night. You roll over to turn it off (and discover an empty pizza box…who knew?) and a wave of nausea runs over you. “Should I or shouldn’t I go to class?” You should – and you have to.

You stop for coffee and a bagel on the way in hopes that somehow one of the two will soak up the Schlitz that is still making its way through your system. You curse the guy who invented Dollar Pitchers. You curse your friends for making you go. You curse yourself for bringing more than $1 with you.

Before getting a seat in class you run to the bathroom to pee/try to puke again. You shudder at your reflection in the mirror; between the dark circles under your eyes (a combination of exhaustion and leftover eyeliner), the messy ponytail on your head, and the stamp from the bar that rubbed off on your cheek while you slept, there is no way people aren’t going to know you are hung over as hell.

You try to freshen up a bit, but all that work makes you tired and you give up. “It’s Tuesday morning at 9am. Who isn’t hungover?!”

Class starts and you chug your coffee and pray your professor doesn’t call on you to participate. Obviously he/she does and you are forced to discuss the use of irony in the novel and its contribution to the overall theme. Riiiight. Your mouth is full of cotton and you aren’t wearing a bra and now the entire class is going to be focused on you? And you have to talk? Read More »

After a stint of boy craziness that’s lasted maybe ten years, I’ve had one bad break-up too many and recently entered a period of no-men-under-any-circumstances- and-I-mean-it, lasting indefinitely.

Don’t get me wrong– I like being single. I’m pretty independent. I can still study and interact with other humans. I function. But when it comes to the menfolk, I get easily distracted. And attempting to stay celibate in college is like asking Whitney Houston to get clean in a crack house. So, thinking that the best offense is a good defense, I’m using a plethora of methods to stay on track and focused.

These are the ones that didn’t work.

Fattening Food I started eating pizza every day. Like, a lot of pizza. There’s this place down the street from my house that serves whole pies for five dollars. (I get the “Oahu,” which is just fancy-pants for Hawaiian. Eating an entire pie in less than three minutes almost helps you forget you’re totally pathetic.) And the first few days I was feeling all blob-like and disgusting, but that’s actually passed. Because after a few weeks I’ve plumped up a bit, and now my skin glows (read: has a greasy sheen) from the extra calories. It kind of makes me want to have a baby. Which is bad. Bad, bad, bad. Read More »