Just last February, I was planning my 21^st birthday party. Now, I’m facing 22 (or as I like to call it 21+1) straight on. Even though the last twelve months have gone by, it feels like just yesterday I was indulging in jello shots and margaritas. For my 21st. Because just yesterday I was indulging in jello shots and margaritas.

Looking back though, much has happened in the past year. It seems I’ve learned a lot while Ke$ha put a dollar sign in her name and started brushing her teeth with a “bottle of Jack,” John Mayer proclaimed that he is on the hunt for “the Joshua Tree of vaginas,” and the Jersey Shore became a national phenomenon.

So here (in no particular order) is what I know for certain after turning 21. Perhaps you youngsters can take a few things from this:

1. Friendships should make you happy — not pissed off : Friends should be so much more than people you dance on tables with and dish about the weekend to. They should be there for you, and you should be there for them. They also should not steal your alcohol on your 21^st birthday and make out with the fraternity guy, all while puking as your boyfriend helps take care of them.

2. Raincoats are amazing: They are often understated and overwhelmingly overlooked when it comes to fashion. But even if they aren’t fashionable (and there are plenty that are!), really, you can’t complain when that slicker keeps your from frizzing. Without a rain jacket I wouldn’t have made it through the summer in London. And I think it actually kept me going to class this past semester. Why didn’t I realize this sooner? It doesn’t matter if you have a basic from Lands End or a super sexy trench from Dillards, just get one! Read More »

I still haven’t written my personal statement yet.

You know, the one that more or less says “explain yourself in 700 words or less.” The one that asks you to take the last four yours of your life and make them fit in an essay. The one that asks you to be creative, and witty, and unique, while also demonstrating your intelligence and artfully adding in all of your accomplishments. The one required for college admissions, scholarships and awards, and, in my case, the one required for grad school applications.

Yep, that one.
I just can’t seem to write it.

The truth is, I’ve never been a big fan of personal statement essays, or as grad schools like to call them, statements of purpose. (Because changing the name will differentiate them from the nightmare that was applying to college.) They all sound exactly the same, and everyone says what they think the admissions board wants to hear, and everyone talks about family history or motivation or their many deep and meaningful reasons for pursuing the career path they’ve chosen. And basically, what it comes down to is one giant cliché. And I hate clichés. And so do the admissions boards, or at least, that’s what they claim. Read More »

"Dear Freshman Me. Let me start by saying, damn girl, you look good! That being said, avoid the soft serve. For real."

Dear Freshman Self,

Live.  Wildly, recklessly, and with as much passion as you can muster. Make out with your RA during welcome week.  Accept one last drink from the cute guy working the keg.  Stay out after the bars close.  Make friends with the cab driver.  Lie in the middle of the street laughing with your best girls.  Watch The Notebook at 3 a.m when you’re all drunk and have a good cry over failed relationship attempts.  Curse the cute guys for being gay.  Get up on the damn stage and sing some freakin’ karaoke already.

Notice the true moments.  Wake up in the middle of the night for the first snow of the season and watch the city turn white with your roommates.  (During this, you might even want to put on John Mayer’s underrated, though classic, “St. Patrick’s Day” and sway arm in arm while singing along.)  Find “your” desk in the library.  Watch Grey’s Anatomy every week because you never know when a good thing can turn bad (hint: third season).  Sit on top of the washing machines and have life chats with that random girl from upstairs.  She’ll end up being one of your best friends.

Be careful.  Don’t use that fake ID you found.  You don’t look 28 and you’re certainly not a Pacific Islander.  Observe Cinco de Mayo, but be cautious of the tequila…that one doesn’t end well for you.  No private planes, no matter what.  Study.  All the men you’ll ever date will have the same name – run now from the first one in a curious line of many.  Get mad, but don’t stay mad.  Shopping isn’t always the answer.

Let yourself off the hook.  So you sleep through your first exam of college.  So you crush on a gay guy for an entire semester. So you have a blowout with your roommates.  So you eventually do sing on karaoke night and it’s a train wreck.  So you throw up Chipotle and Jose Cuervo on the basket of shoes under your bed.  So you spend all your money.  So you get a D+ in Italian. So you got on that plane.  So you dated him.

Go to class.  Call your mother.  You’ll be fine.

XoXo

Your Senior Self

What would your letter to your freshman self say? Share it below!

College offers so many opportunities and I regret not taking advantage of more of them. I’m not referring to visiting lectures from world renowned microbiologists or Teach For America open houses. I’m talking about opportunities to get things for free.

Club meetings that offer pizza just for coming, computer labs that leave out boxes of paper, and psych professors paying money for you to undergo semi-legal clinical trials. Even though I hate using the countdown, I have to admit that I only have a little over a month to accomplish as much as possible by spending as little as possible. I’ve included the following on my list. Read More »

Everything gets celebrated in college. No hook-up is too insignificant for an all day brunch recap and no detagging decision is too trivial to not involve all your friends. So it only gets crazier when it’s actually a nationally recognized holiday.

This year I celebrated my first and last St. Patrick’s day at college. Every other year I’ve been home on Spring break doing Irish Car bombs by myself while simultaneously stuffing corned beef in my mouth with my bare hands.

Because it’s a college holiday we chose to wake up before sunrise in order to start drinking as soon as possible. Before I could even wipe the sleep from my eyes and mop the drool off of my mouth someone was shoving beer down my throat. I brushed my teeth with Guinesss, washed my face with four-leaf clovers and started my day. Read More »