Let me take you back to a simpler time: my sophomore year of college. I had recently been dumped by my longtime boyfriend, and after about a month of taking solace in Half Baked and Friends reruns, I was finally ready to put myself on the market again.

I went to a party with my friends and proceeded to get drunker than I had been since my senior prom. A few hours and several sketchy mixed drinks later, a curly-haired boy started dancing with me. He wasn’t exactly my type, but since I was on the rebound and, let’s face it, not exactly in the best position to be making decisions, I went with it. I had never randomly hooked up with someone I had met at a party before, but I was convinced that doing that tonight would make me forget all about what’s-his-face.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Curly told me he was leaving. “Okay!” I yelled.

“The thing is, I want you to come with me,” he delicately screamed over the dulcet sounds of Lil John and the Eastside Boyz’s “Get Low.”

“Okay!” I yelled again.

As we grabbed our coats and walked out, we got to know each other a little better. He was a junior, a philosophy major, and an RA in one of the freshman dorms. I was… way too drunk. It was completely embarrassing when a group of kids in the lobby of his dorm said hi to Curly, did a double-take after noticing me, and then started smirking, but I comforted myself by thinking that they were just freshman who I would never see again.

Then we walked into his room, and I noticed that there were two beds in it.

“Wait… you have a roommate? I thought you were an RA,” I slurred.

Curly told me a complicated story about how Housing had messed up and forced him to live with a weird freshman kid. It didn’t totally make sense, but I was too drunk and determined to care.

The hook-up itself was majorly underwhelming. After about fifteen minutes of fumbling and sloppy kisses, I was done. I bid Curly goodnight and stumbled back to my dorm.

The next day, I told my roommate about what I had done after the party. She wanted to see the guy, so I fired up Facebook and looked him up.  I typed in his name, and there he was: Curly, philosophy major, a freshman in our college.

Wait a minute—a freshman?

Yep, that’s right: Curly had totally lied to me about being an RA. In retrospect, it’s so obvious that he was a freshman that it’s ridiculous I was ever taken in by his bogus story. Curly called and texted me regularly for the rest of the semester, but I ignored him because I was too mortified even to pick up the phone and berate him for being a lying creep.

If only I had seen his Facebook before going home with him. Not only was he a freshman, but his profile picture was also of him literally sitting in a trashcan. That might have sent up a red flag for me, even if I had been too drunk to notice what year he was graduating. Lesson learned: even when you go to a party determined to have a rebound fling, make sure to set some kind of standard.

Do you know what today is? No, it’s not just the CollegeCandy.com editor’s half birthday – it’s the International Day of Peace! A day where people around the globe come together to reflect on the world peace we (and all those Miss America contestants) yearn for.

In honor of this beautiful day, I started thinking about my own personal wars I’ve been fighting. I’ve held onto a lot of grudges in the past year and I think today is the perfect day to wave the white flag and let them all go. Because there is nothing more freeing than peace.

I’m ready to call a cease-fire and here are a few of my former enemies I’ll be burying the hatchet with today:

The R.A. that stole my fifth of gin. I know I probably shouldn’t have been walking around with it in public. But it was so tiny and bite-sized and it packed such a big punch that I couldn’t bare to part with it. That is until you snatched it from me. I might have gotten a $50 fine, but at least I escaped alcohol poisoning that night. Peace and thank you.

The Professor that gave me a C- on a paper because I made the margins smaller than he specified. I’m sorry that in my eagerness to impress you with my in-depth analysis spilled over the page limit.  Not wanting to do away with any of my brilliance, I thought I could fool you by making the margins .25 inches.  You caught on to my charade, and I paid for my sins. Peace Prof. You taught me the importance of playing by the rules.

The girl who spilled her coffee all over my brand new bag in class. Sure, I had to hang-dry my three notebook’s worth of notes around my apartment. And, yeah, the $25 to dry clean my brand new messenger bag was sort of a drag. The fact that you didn’t apologize and actually blamed me for “putting my things so close to your Americano” was also kinda rude, but giving you the stink-eye every time I come to class is starting to give me a headache. You keep your coffee on your desk and I’ll keep my bag on my chair and we’ll be good to go.

The bouncer that confiscated my fake I.D. Yes, my doppelganger was about 17 years older than I actually was, but it was a valiant effort on my part and you were having none of it.  You cut it up right in front of my eyes (which are blue, not brown, another tip-off) but I forgive you.  It’s your job to destroy the bar-scene dreams of youngins like myself. I have made my peace.

The young man that nailed my left-behind undergarments to the wall of the fraternity lodge. Perhaps I should have taken more care when I fled from your room that morning, but you could have done the gentlemanly thing and returned my possessions to me. Public humiliation aside, at least I got a few more Facebook friend requests that week. Peace be with you, frat-star.

Who are you making peace with today?

My sorority family is insane and I love them. But I have never made it home from a family dinner alive… or with my dignity. Our propensity for tequila has always gotten the best of me. At our last family dinner, they found me exchanging clothes with a frat guy and then laughing and pointing as another family member rolled down an extremely steep hill.

So, needless to say, they decided to send me home with an escort that evening so as to avoid the morning after “OMFG YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT I DID AFTER I LEFT LAST NIGHT!” phone call.

Well, escort in tow, things were going well on the walk back to my dorm room (I mean, my clothes were still on and I hadn’t tripped in front of oncoming traffic), until I happened upon a young man walking by himself. As the story goes (because I certainly don’t remember this), I latched onto his arm and made delightful conversation all the way home. My escort walked me all the way up to the door, waited as the strange suitor walked away, and then left me to go back to her own dorm.

Little did she know this man and I had other arrangements.

I woke up that morning pleased to find myself being spooned. Who doesn’t love an unexpected morning cuddle-fest? It wasn’t until about 45 seconds later when I realized that I had no idea whose body was pressed up against mine. Naked.

Slowly and ever-so-hesitantly, I rolled over and asked with my beer-tainted breath: “Who are you? Where did I find you?”

That is when the story of how I found, seduced and bedded the R.A. of the boys dorm next door to mine was retold to me from his sober viewpoint. Yes, he had been sober on rounds that night. And yes, I had been three sheets to the wind and riding the blackout train.

The morning after, I lay in his arms, confused and bewildered. To make matters worse, I quickly realized he had no intention of leaving any time soon. Nestled in my boobs, he looked quite content with himself. I, on the other hand, was nursing a hearty hangover and still couldn’t quite grasp where my clothes had run off to.

Not knowing what to do, I began to tell him about my family, my middle school love affair with Aaron Carter, how my dog looks when I paint her toenails pink, really anything I could think of to pass the time.  Just when I had run out of trivia information for him, my alarm went off. Salvation to the tune of Snow Patrol’s “Chasing Cars.”

If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me
And just forget the world?

The R.A., still nameless to me, looks deeply into my eyes.

“How appropriate!” He exclaimed.

I threw myself out of bed, yanked on clothes, ignored his invitation to breakfast and demanded he leave my room.

As he collected his belongings and sulked out of our love den, I couldn’t help but cringe when I noticed he couldn’t have been more than 5’2. I never known beer goggles to be so extreme.

Living in the dorms is one of the most essential college experiences. Years from now, you’ll tell your friends and family of all your adventures and mishaps. You’ll never forget those obnoxious fire-drills at 3 am, the industrial blue carpeting, how hard it was for you to climb up into your bed…whilst drunk.

Most of all, when you look back you’ll remember the people you spent these times with, and all the friends you made. But when it comes to dorm buddies, there are the good friends (they don’t steal your shampoo and they grasp the concept of hygiene) and then there are your dorm BFF’s…

The Aspiring DJ: As annoying as his incessant Facebook messaging may be, the DJ is a good dorm friend to have. Not only does he have vast knowledge of the hottest clubs in town, he knows the cheapest best nights to go. His iTunes shared library is effing awesome and he’s always happy to demo his spinning skillz at whatever event you’re hosting (AKA whatever themed pre-party you’re having in your room, he’s happy to bring an equally festive mastermix). Not only is he the life of the party with his hilarious and entertaining personality, but he has a special place in his heart for nightly AYCD party buses. He wants as many of his friends at all his gigs as possible, so you’re always on the V.I.P. list when he MC’s at da club.

The Girl Who Always Has a Package Waiting: Of the UPS variety, not the Fruit of the Loom variety (trust me, that girl is not your BFF). She always has a message from your R.A. on her whiteboard “Package downstairs!” She always seems to be carrying a massive box up the stairs, and you, by all means, should help her carry that package. Because when she excitedly opens whatever baked goods/ treats her mom has sent her, she will inevitably share out of gratitude. The more you get to know this new friend, the more you’ll realize that Mom’s separation anxiety translates into brownies…and cookies, and peanut brittle and cupcakes. Girlfriend can’t possibly eat all that homesickness herself or she won’t be able to fit through the door to pick up her never ending stream of snail mail lovin’. This is where you need to be a good friend and split some of those ooey gooey calories… for her sake.

Your Study Buddy: When your R.A. inevitably slips a note under your door calling you to a mandatory hall meeting, do not sigh and lament this as time you’ll lose partying. Rather, prepare yourself for fun filled games like “two truths and a lie,” “guess who I am by what I wrote on this slip of paper,” and, my personal favorite, “sit in a circle and say your name and major.” The last one is particularly important, and you will want to listen very carefully for everyone with the same majors as you—they are your new study buddies.

You’ll have to take the same classes for the next four years, and even if you’re not in the same section, you can all help each other with specific assignments, studying for tests, sharing expensive books and occasionally e-mail each other to find out what you missed in class (obvi only applies if you’re in the same class). Be good to your study buddies, do not take advantage of them, and do unto your stubu as they would do unto you.

The girl Who Had Two U-Hauls on Move-In Day: Your little sis marveled at the amount of stuff some people could bring with them. Your parents silently thanked God that they didn’t have to help you move that much crap. You caught yourself thinking “Lucky Bitch won’t have to go to the gym later after carrying all those boxes up stairs.” You didn’t think much else about her until one night, as you were drifting off to sleep in your twin XL, you pondered what she possibly could have needed 2 trailers for. After all, the dorm came with furniture and a mini fridge. You managed to fit all your extra stuff in your backseat and your parents trunk. The only thing you could possibly think of is that she must have just needed an extra one for all her shoes, clothes and purses.

Bingo! You saunter down the hall to introduce yourself and see her clothes spilling out of her drawers, closet and falling off of her clothes rack. So exasperated is she by her need to organize all her (super freaking cute) stuff, that now would be a good time for you to generously offer some of your closet space. Perhaps you could store some of her dresses in your fave color and shoes in your size? Seriously, you are such a good friend.

The Guy With the Really Good Fake: You know who I’m talking about. About 6’3, brown hair, full beard, wears Dad shorts? Yea, him. Chances are, he’s had his fake I.D. since he turned 13…and he’s never been turned down. He’ll be the one hosting most of the dorm parties and pregames, due to his close relationship with Steve from Megadiscountliquor Barn. Be very polite to him, as he is using his gas money and incredibly valuable time to go on beer runs for you. Be prepared to pay a nominal convenience fee (but if he tries to charge you more than $5 extra take your business elsewhere) and never look him in the eye. Tell him Kari sent you—he’ll know what you’re talking about.

What kind of friends would you love to make in your dorm? What kind of dorm BFF are you? Know any of these people (especially the girl with all the clothes!)?

Packing at the end of the semester is a bitch. But, on the bright side, it’s still better than the cleaning that comes after packing. Make your life easier by getting a head start on moving out for the summer, by following these simple suggestions!

1. Clean up after yourself.

I am guilty of letting things slide when I’m stressed. I procrastinate on everything from vacuuming to bringing the 57 empties from last night’s dorm party to the recycling bin. However, if you take five seconds (okay, five minutes, tops) out of your day to clean up the little things, you won’t have so much clutter-slash-junk-slash-trash to wade through when you’re trying to round up the stuff you actually want to keep.

2. Start with the shizz you don’t need.

Um, winter’s just about over. Pack up your thick sweaters, and save just one for a fluke springtime cold. Throw in half of your towels and pajamas, and vow to do laundry more often. All of those notebooks you bought when you thought your lab would be difficult, but haven’t been opened since they left the bookstore? Pack them. The posters on your walls? They can go, too. Nobody’s really judging your dorm that much.

The more you can pack up here and there, the less you’ll be scrambling to cram into a couple of suitcases and three Yaffa Blocks 20 minutes before your ETD.

3. Stop. Buying. New. Stuff.

Seriously, if you’ve made this far through the year, you can live without whatever impulse-buy doodad caught your eye in the checkout counter. It’s just going to be more to lug later.

4. Make a few trips.

If you are fortunate enough to have a car on campus and be driving distance from the folks, start now. Load up your car, go home for some of Mom’s famous homestyle mashed potatoes, and drop a sh*tload of boxes in her living room, where they will sit…until May (or maybe even September when it’s time to go BTS).

5. Don’t get trashed the night before move-out…unless you’re totally ready to go.

If you’ve been neglecting these tips and plan to throw everything together an hour before your RA comes to check you out, you could be in trouble. Finishing that last exam might feel like a load off, but there’s nothing worse than being hungover-or still drunk- and trying to throw your life into a few boxes while on a time limit. You’ll break things, you won’t pack up with any given order (hence your beer mugs will be packed away with your underwear, and your PJ’s will be underneath your text books), and your clothes will be so wrinkled when you finally unpack at home that you’ll be late to your hometown reunion because you had to spend 20 minutes ironing. Besides, anything you accidentally leave behind becomes your roommate’s territory.

All I have to say is, “I’m not sure I’m going out tonight because it’s hailing fully formed snowmen,” and within in seconds I have 14 texts, 9 IMs, and 1 roommate chirping out: “We only have 12 more Mondays to go out!” And of course the countdown always makes me give in.

It’s not that I doubt I will have plenty of Mondays in my future to get drunk (recession, unemployment, YES) but it’s more like I only have 12 more Mondays to get drunk in a socially acceptable way. After that it’s drinking alone on Mondays from old Manischewitz bottles that I find in the back of the fridge. And nothing good ever follows Manischewitz (although my brother will be the only one to argue that gelfite fish follows Manischewitz and gelfite fish is good).

And as the days start winding down I find myself nostalgic for the past three years. But not only for the normal things like the nights I’ll never remember with the friends I’ll never forget (stole that quote from my 12yr old sister’s MySpace), but also for things I promised myself that I would never miss. I pass freshmen with their Styrofoam dining hall boxes and instead of trying to make them envious by bragging about my full fridge, I approach them and ask for just a peak inside…will it be greasy chicken fingers or just a box full of cocoa puffs? Either way, all I can think about is how good they have it. Endless amounts of food prepared for them! Trays to transport the food! Someone to wash the dishes after they eat the food!

It’s hard to believe that at this point sophomore year I was sitting in the dining hall eating wilted lettuce leaves complaining about how I couldn’t believe we had three more months of this garbage. Now I’m asking freshman to pass back their ID and let me see that salad bar one last time, let me see those smiling cooks under their hair nets, let me see the unrefrigerated egg salad!

But more than I miss the limitless frozen yogurt machine at the dining halls, I’m nostalgic for how dumb I was. Everyday was an adventure and I believed everyone was there to help guide me; from the saleslady who claimed I would need $300 snowpants to survive Syracuse to the the frat “brother” who forgot which room was his and insisted the hallway was suitable. I believed spring began after spring break. I believed R.A’s actually had power. I believed that liquor before beer meant I was in the clear and, most of all, I believed that the mummy I kissed during Freshman Halloween would at least wait until I walked away before grabbing my friend and kissing her.

And even though all these beliefs were eventually proved wrong (turns out brothers don’t forget which room they live in) it was still fun not knowing what was around every corner. Literally every corner had something new. An underage basement bar! A middle-eastern restaurant! The friend that I made first week and never spoke to again! Just because I’m better fed, legally able to drink, and no longer a moron, I still can’t help but miss it.

Proper protocol is usually required to get to the bottom of a situation. Sometimes you have to start with an RA or the Dean of Students; each issue has its own designated driver to get to the bottom of what’s going on. However, when you reach the end of the line and nothing is solved, going past the usual set of rules and skipping to the top becomes the only option if you want action!

After going all freshman year without much success from the Dean of Students and the Housing and Residence Life, my mom and I decided to set some time aside to schedule a meeting with the President of my university in hopes to get everything sorted out. Eager to put an end to the continual issues that beleaguered me throughout my first two semesters in college, I expected results and an apology from my university’s president.

Before going into the meeting I compiled a list of all the things that happened and how they were handled. I remember looking down at the list as we walked into her large office thinking that it really was one thing too many. As my mother and I spoke openly about my experience at Hollins and the issues that I have seen on campus such as bullying, harassment, and the roommate debacle I survived, President Gray (a very cheerful, articulate, and warm woman) sat across from us with a look of disbelief on her face. In telling her about the botched responsibilities of the Student Life administration, she spoke about not knowing these issues beset her campus. Apologizing for the terrible experience I have had on the campus, President Gray looked forward to making my university a better place with input on how to improve.

Working through the main issues my mom and I brought up, President Gray thought of ideas to help take preventative measures for other students on campus. For example, she came up with the idea of putting peep-holes in every first-years’ door, so they could look out and see who was at their door. I thought it was a great idea because maybe if I heard someone outside my door when words like bitch and whore were slewed in erasable markers on my whiteboard, I could have caught them.

She thought of implementing a bullying policy into the 2007-2008 student handbook, which I thought would help the administration define in better terms what bullying actually is. And to help me feel safe and calm in my living situation for my sophomore year, President Gray promised me that I would not have to live in the first year dorm again (which was where I was placed in a single due to a shortage of singles in upperclassmen housing) and that some type of housing compensation would occur for the price distinction of living with a roommate and on my own, in a single.

Leaving the meeting with her, I finally felt relief.

Fall 2007 rolled around, and it was time to go back to school. And then it became clear – all promises were off. Suddenly, the school had no available single for me in any building except the building President Gray agreed with my mom that I should not live in again. The only option was for me to live in a double room, as a single. However, the university decided that if I did that, they would not pay damages of lasts years woes in the form of a single room, like they formerly planned to do. When inquiring about this with the president, she said via e-mail that she didn’t remember deciding I would live elsewhere than the single I reserved in the first year dorm, in the first place.

Just as all these promises seemed to not be carried out, the president herself seemed to vanish off into the sunset for a week or two long vacation. Leaving me with the option of living in the overly expensive double as a single, I moved into my dorm early to help out with first year orientation (expect a story next week about this orientation) feeling cheated, ignored, and taken as a joke yet again by Hollins and its administration. After dishing out an extra $1,000+ or so, after I was told I wouldn’t have to, I couldn’t help but feel lied to … especially when I ran into the President during freshman orientation and she asked if I was pleased with the start of my sophomore year at Hollins. Seriously…give me a break!

Although she can talk the talk of being a professionally polished president, she failed at keeping her word. Disenchanted yet again by the university I chose to attend, I felt like I had nowhere to turn. If the President will listen, but not act or take her own promise earnestly – who will?

Just because the president doesn’t follow through on the school’s mission statement or promise doesn’t mean your issues as a student should fall on the back burner. Everyone deserves an education worth achieving and a student life worth living, and the appreciation of this keeps me pushing through to help make my university a better place, even in spite of its substandard character traits and underhanded administration.

Sure, we can layer five sweaters, two hoodies, a parka, and a scarf, but once we’ve stepped outside, bookbag in hand, we realize we would much rather snuggle up under our down comforters and hibernate until spring. Yet, when Friday rolls around, we’re willing to trudge across campus in a blizzard, wearing mini skirts and halter tops, just to look cute for Martini Night.

Of course, these practices only snowball (har har har) into bigger problems when we get strep throat, bronchitis, the flu, or other wintery illness since our immune systems have been frozen solid. Rather than braving the cold, risking hypothermia, or sitting in an ice-cube of a car, begging the heat to kick in for twenty minutes just so you can feel the steering wheel to drive to a party, here are some ways to make the weekends work…warmly.

1. Host a floor party.

Especially in suite-style dorms or university apartment complexes, this is a no-brainer. Everyone can pop in and out as they please, nobody even needs a jacket, and you’ll never be stuck being the DD. If your RA is a stickler for the rules, this can be tricky, but if you can get away with it, have an open house on your floor/in your hall/ around the building.

2. Order delivery.

You’re going to do it anyway if you’re stumbling home from the bar. So skip the “going outside” part- don’t even venture to the dining hall- and order a couple of piping hot pizzas, right to your door. Make some hot cocoa in your microwave (spike it with Bailey’s if you like), and have a roasted, toasted food fest. When you’re finished indulging, you wouldn’t want to wear a skimpy outfit anyway.

3. Make your dorm room a personal spa.

Pretend spring break has come early. Soak your feet in hot water, relax with a heating pad, or model the bikini you bought for the upcoming season. Getting in the mood for summer will help you beat the winter blues. Since you’re staying in anyway, blend up some margaritas. You are always just one step away from snuggling under the cozy, warm covers.

4. Blackout.

I’m not talking about irresponsible drinking. But, since the winter months are the darkest, take advantage of the 4 p.m. nightfall and save some energy. Once, during a winter-storm-induced blackout, my roommate and I lit all of our (illegal by university housing codes) candles, lined up shots of all of the different types of liquor in our kitchen and had a dimmed dance party. To avoid getting written up, use flashlights or a few small lamps. Break out some old board games, or simply have a girly bonding night…in the dark.

5. Snuggle up with that special someone.

Nothing keeps you warm like someone else’s body heat! You can do any of the above with your honey, or release all of your school-induced tension by staying in bed all weekend long. You’ll save money on the bar, burn some calories, and the only gloves you’ll need will be ribbed for your pleasure.

No need to risk driving on icy roads, falling into snowbanks, or getting windburn on your face this winter. There’s plenty of ways to entertain yourself within the confines of your nice, warm walls – whether you’re cheating on your spring break diet (which you deserve), partying it up with your neighbors, being silly (cabin fever can have that affect- and I like it!), or finding an excuse to try Cosmo’s latest “Best Ever” position! What do you do to beat the winter blues?

Life in prison for this fashionable felon.

President-Elect Obama loves YouTube!

Paula might be leaving American Idol.

Is Kim Kardashian really engaged?

Hulk Hogan & Co. are a bunch of douches.

Anderson Cooper watches Real Housewives of Atlanta.

ESPN is stereotyping your school.

Makeup trends for the holiday season.

It’s a hard-knock life for your RA.

The idiot’s guide to networking.

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.

2. Beware of PDA.

True story: I was once stumbling across campus with a guy I liked, and was pretty much all over him. I was stopped by a Public Safety brigade, who proceeded to quiz me: Did I know this guy? Where were we going? While I insisted that he was a friend, one of the officers interrupted with “You’re obviously intoxicated and we want to make sure you’re not going to make a bad decision tonight.” Ouch. (Editor’s Note: Where were those guys when I was making out with the guy with the tats?)

Luckily, they let us continue on our way, but the situation could have easily ended badly. This anecdote should be a lesson to guys, too. I’m sure my friend was mortified when the Public Safety peeps pegged him as a date rapist. But, just like the crazy, drunken antics mentioned above will red flag a drunk college student, a pair of horny kids who can’t make it back to the dorm room will also raise the suspicions of the University 5-0.

3. Be careful with your Fake.

If you have someone who is of age that can make a beer run for you, don’t even try to buy your own booze. At my school, all of the campus liquor stores had walls covered with confiscated fake ID’s. It’s a lot easier to get served at a bar or restaurant than it is to purchase booze from the store. FYI.

Still, you need to research the bars you attempt to get in to. Everyone at my school knew which bars would let in the worst fakes, which states made for the worst fakes, etc. I once had a fake ripped up by the manager of a new campus bar, because they were on the lookout for New York ID’s after being watched closely by the Po.

One more little tale: I knew a girl who got fined because she left her wallet at a gas station, and somehow, the cops found her fake ID in it. If a cop sees you with a fake for any reason, it can constitute fraud. Just food for thought.

4. Keep it inconspicous.

If you are walking to a party, don’t crack open a Natty Ice on the street. Don’t fill a Coca-Cola bottle with vodka. And don’t help a friend carry a case of beer if you are a minor. In many states, you can’t even handle alcohol if you are a minor. So if the cops are scouting out the liquor store, and card you and your of-age friend as you drag a shopping cart full of Patron to your car, you might get in trouble, even if you’re stone-cold sober and the bottles are unopened.

Even if you are trying to hide the libations you are hauling to the party, be careful. Ironically, backpacks scream “hidden alcohol,” especially when you are en route to a quad party on a warm Saturday evening. The cops may ask you open your bag, and having 30 beers fall out might put a damper on your weekend.

5. Stay current on campus news.

If there are four bars on campus, and three of them have been raided in the past month, you might want to lay low in order to avoid a sting operation on the fourth bar. Try to catch wind of any rumors that Tequila Tom’s might get raided.

Of course, if you are friendly with the bar staff, they might look out for you as well, because they want to save their own ass as much as you want to save yours. I’ve been flat out told by bouncers that they couldn’t let me in because they anticipated a raid; a year later, those same bouncers planned an “escape route” through the kitchen for the only girl in our group who had yet to hit the big 2-1.

6. Don’t advertise.

This goes along with watching your behavior and being mindful of your fake ID, but it’s the number one reason a minor will get busted. If you’re drinking in your room, don’t leave bottles and cans strewn about for your RA to see. Don’t display your shot glasses and your funnel. Many schools today even have rules that no alcohol-related decorations (posters, etc) may be displayed in “dry” dorms.

Just being alert to the fact that many people on campus are looking out for underage drinking can help you make smart decisions. It’s really not difficult to evade the disciplinarians at your school, and before you know it, you’ll be passing down your fake ID to your younger siblings and telling them to use it wisely. Take your time to get to know your campus and it’s policies. You have four years of partying awaiting you, so there’s plenty of time to tune up your beer pong skills.