As a certified 21st century girl, I love all forms of “e” (or “i” for all you Mac geeks) communication. Email, IM, tweeting, texting — they’re all great ways to stay connected. So why are movie theaters, schools and other public places getting so strict about them?

Well I guess maybe because there’s a time and place for everything, including texting.

Hate to sound like you grandma by saying things like “there’s a time and place for everything” but…here goes:

It’s NOT okay to text when…

• Driving: Sure, some of us have this technique down perfectly and have managed to do it for years without getting in some kind of major accident, but then again, there are plenty of carefree teenagers, irritable businesswomen and overwhelmed mothers in minivans who have yet to perfect the “look down at the phone for 2 seconds, then back up at the road for 2 seconds” technique we all know and love. If you need to text, pull into a parking lot or something. I know you want to make the most of your unlimited texting plan, but believe me: the insurance bill on a wrecked car will be 20 times your monthly  cell statement.
• Hooking up: If you’re texting while hooking up with someone, it’s probably for one of two reasons: 1) you’re trying to make it look like you’re in high-demand from other people so that he doesn’t take this one hook up for granted or 2) for some reason, you just can’t stop texting old inside jokes to your best friend. Regardless of the reason, it’s rude and you would probably feel like crap if the tables were turned and he was the one texting his friends the whole time. If you’re about to have some sexy time, either turn it off or put the phone in your bag… on silent… in another room.
• Having a Serious Conversation: Come on, if you’re at the Olive Garden with your best friend who just got dumped by her boyfriend of almost a year, your phone should be out of sight at this meal. She is going to want to vent and, by opting for some Americanized Italian carbs, you’ve volunteered to be the vent-ee. If you text while she’s talking about how “no one will ever love her the way he did,” she’s going to feel even more depressed and insecure. Listen like a good friend and she’ll probably return the favor when you need it.

In every dorm room and apartment I’ve shared with friends, I’ve wanted to get a communal landline and implement the message corkboard.  Of course I never voiced my desires, but it all seemed so…quaint.  In my head I pictured us all going out to the bar on Friday night and waking up Saturday afternoon to a barrage of post-its sporting guys’ names and numbers.  Maybe we’d even have a color-coded system.  Red for hottie, blue nottie, pink for potentially gay.

In reality, Saturday afternoons were spent on the couch watching Housewives marathons and being jarred out of a trance as our cell phones vibrated and beeped.  Todd says: “Nice 2 meet U last nite.  Going out agn?”  Mark says: “Wut up?”

I’ve been there, and I’d bet ten dollar-beers that you’ve been there, too.  The sad part is, we’ll respond, albeit halfheartedly, knowing exactly what they’re getting at.  “Going out again?” is code for “Wanna make out tonight if we happen to be wasted at the same place at the same time?” and a seemingly innocent “What’s up?” is the product of a moronic mind who has nothing more interesting to say to the goddess of a woman he met over Long Islands.

Even worse is the moment when you get a text-friendly guy physically in front of you.  Ted Koppel has more personality!  He was a big hotshot when he had his phone to do the wooing (“I kno the bouncr, brews on me”; “You looked so hott in that top”) but now he’s all sweaty hands shoved in pockets and shuffling feet.  Being the mature adult you are, you ask his major, maybe where he’s from.  One-word answers and glassy eyes, that’s what you get in response.  And to think, you wasted a good 15 texts on this guy.

Next!

Now, the Huffington Post is reporting that text messaging is quickly replacing spoken communication. WTF, peeps? What has texting done to us?  I know it’s easier, quicker, and less awkward than a phone call, but come on!  Do you think Angelina got Brad by pix-messaging him pictures of her boobs?  You better believe she knows the power of a flirtatious touch and a well-timed batting of her eyelashes.  And that world famous lip pucker doesn’t translate via cell.

Nearly every woman dreams of possessing the wiles of Ange, ScarJo, Halle, or Miss Diaz.  You chase the dream of being one of these universally drooled-upon sexual icons.  In the name of self improvement, you drop hundreds of dollars every year on magazines just to get tips on how to impress quality guys and “find out what they’re really thinking.”  Have you ever stopped to consider maybe the real 10s think you’re a future cat lady who needs to ditch the Blackberry and learn to flirt in real time?  Or that maybe you’ve already got what it takes if you would just get out from behind that little key pad and pick up the phone when face time isn’t an option.  Picture all the women you admire sitting in their sweatpants agonizing over whether to text “CUlater” or “CUlater babe”.  It’s not happening.  In all likelihood, the girls getting the guys aren’t the ones with bed head and rapid-type thumbs, they’re the ones out there using their humor and well-timed hair flips to make it happen.

Now I know some of you are out there crying out how you had an intense heart-to-heart with a guy just last week!  Please look back and reassess the situation: were you sitting on a curb or porch, smoking a cigarette, holding a beer in one hand your heels in another?  Drunken admissions do not count for quality conversation.

To all you text-aholics this probably sounds harsh, but sometimes tough love is the best kind.  Texting is not communicating – it’s avoiding real communication. If you want to build relationships you’ve got to put down the phone and talk to someone already!

First we learn what kind of behavior is too freaky to fix on a man… such as someone who Tweets every time you switch positions in bed. If you didn’t know that before reading Cosmo, then your behavior is probably too freaky to fix, too.

Then we move on to several quizzes, in which we learn that we will be rich one day if we answer yes to having played competitive sports or were on the debate team in high school. Somehow I have a feeling Bill Gates was involved in neither and look at him now.

This month’s Cosmo also teaches readers how to flirt with anyone and everyone, including the dry cleaner. Because that tiny little man who cleans the stains off of my bedding is exactly who I want to take home to momma….

Oh, and real quickly: when did horoscopes start mentioning text messages and what flavor lube I’ll be interested in this month? Does that change by the month? What happened to good old advice on what to do when my friend gets mad at me on the 8^th? And why does Carrie Underwood’s hair look so greasy that it appears she hasn’t washed it in months? Gross.

But even with all of that priceless information and advice, the March issue gets even better: What his Texts Really Mean. I know, it sounds groundbreaking, right? Like the kind of information that could earn those Cosmo girls a Nobel Prize. I mean, we’ve all wondered what the hell he was trying to say and now Cosmo is going to break it all down for us and help us respond!

Well, that was the intention anyway….

Cosmo Says:  A few words, like “hey.” Translation: He’s thinking about you and is craving reassurance that he’s on your mind, too. Your move: His ego needs a little stroking, so try “what’s up, sexy?”
Arielle Says: Well, Cosmo’s right – he’s definitely thinking about you. But I’m not sure the word “hey” actually means he’s insecure and unsure. Where I’m from, it’s just a greeting. Don’t feel the need to tell him how amazing he is just because he asked you what’s up. (Also, can Cosmo avoid the word “stroking,” please?)

Cosmo Says: Questions like “what are you up to tonight?” Translation: He wants to feel out your response before putting his neck on the line. Your move: Play coy.
Arielle Says: He obviously wants to hang out with you. Or is curious about what you’re doing. So stop wasting text messages and just get to the point.

Cosmo Says: A string of characters that are even more maddening because you can almost figure them out. Example: last nit u tuk it 2 krzy. Translations: He feels like the two of you can practically read each other’s minds. Your move: Let him know you are still on the same wavelength but have no clue what that meant.
Arielle Says: This is 2010. In a world where we abbreve the word abbreviate, it’s perfectly normal to shorten words in text messages. It’s super annoying, but I’m sure it’s just as annoying for him to hear you saying “obvi” and “totes” all the time.

…Or he’s drunk.

Cosmo Says: Stupid movie quotes. Translation: It’s an attempt at flirting. He’s trying to show you how funny he is. Your move: Google the quote to find out where it’s from and shoot one back.
Arielle Says: He’s just trying to get a giggle out of you. End of story.

Cosmo Says: Anything but a straight-up yes or no, such as “maybe.” Translation: He has zero interest in trying to come up with plans for the two of you. Your move: Don’t let the fact that he won’t give you an answer stop you from moving forward.
Arielle Says: Just because he’s not sure doesn’t mean he has zero interest in making plans with you. “Maybe” he has a Halo match tonight. Or “maybe” he needs to write a paper. No need to go to extremes, ladies. Either make the plans or give him some options to choose from.

Despite what Taylor Swift might sing.

Let’s not be blinded by St. Valentine himself. A few secret admirers are sprouting up these days and chocolates may end up in my mailbox on the 14^th of February, but I want to focus on the other 364 calendar days. Where did dinner at a nice restaurant go? Why are guys no longer lending a sweater when my arms get chilly? How come the term “first date” is becoming just as out-of-date as the Spice Girls’ famous “girl power” slogan?

Let’s face it: Chivalry is dead on college campuses. Feel free to send flowers because a guy is not about to.  The love letters that used to bear hearts and souls have been replaced by 140 character text messages. That first date is more likely to involve a grungy couch at 2a.m., not a romantically lit table for two. Gone are the days of sweaty palms and Cupid’s arrows. These days college courtship revolves around Facebook “pokes” and the highly anticipated changing of the status from “single” to “in a relationship”.

I hear tales all the time from my parents and extended family that involve sweet little love stories laced with flowers left on the doorstep and first dates where a guy actually met the parents. And he picked the girl up. And he actually took her somewhere that didn’t include Solo cups and a $5 cover charge.

Crazy, I know.

Guys are the first to be blamed and we girls are pretty merciless when it comes to pointing fingers on this topic. They are the ones who are “supposed” to ask the girls out on dates, pick up the tab and call for a second date. But speaking as a female, I know I am guilty of delivering a disgusted sigh at the thought of being put on a pedestal and treated like a damsel in distress. We are in an age of independence and the defenseless Rapunzel role doesn’t really help us out anymore.

Let’s face it: Both sexes are at fault here. And because of this look at what we are left with.

Scenes from “The Notebook” and “Titanic” are inching away from the category of classic romance and becoming more like mythology with each interaction. We have handed over the first few steps of courting to our T9 texting and Facebook accounts. We have settled for expressing those first few feelings over a screen rather than ever having the “relationship talk” face-to-face. We have smacked a smile on our faces over invites to theme parties and to free drinks at the bar. Some may call this a modernized form of chivalry but I just see it as ridiculous.

I want those old days back. I want to believe there is someone out there who will walk me back to my dorm room instead of inviting me back to his for the night. I would love the chance to actually talk to someone in a quiet setting instead of amidst the chugging of cheap beer.

Guys, would it ruin your reputation to take us out on one dinner date and learn our favorite color?
Girls, will our independence be critically bruised if we accept a pedestal for once and simply allow a guy to flatter us?

We need to meet somewhere in the middle. Until that crossroad comes, I will hold tightly to a thin strand of hope; maybe, just maybe, chivalry is not dead.

But it’s definitely in a deep coma.

The most dangerous thing our generation is doing? Texting, apparently.

The New York Times recently wrote an article (published in their ‘health’ section, no less) about the dangers of texting.  The sources scattered throughout the article wail about their teenage son or daughter sending thousands of texts per month (uh…more like per week) and the drastic effects it has on their poor baby’s health.

Seriously, parents and teachers?  You’re worried about excessive texting rather than say, drunk driving or hard drug use?  I mean, a case of sore thumbs can certainly ruin your day, but I’m pretty sure huffing paint thinner is gonna at least eff up your week.

The article cites problems such as anxiety, distraction in school, failing grades (probably a result of the distraction, I’m guessing), repetitive stress injury, and sleep deprivation.  Um, this may just be me, but doesn’t that sound like a normal high school or college student?  Hell, even before I had texting on my phone (yes, I was a late texting bloomer), I had a fair few of those ‘symptoms’ (especially around finals week).

Let’s get serious, New York Times.  Why don’t we set the texting ‘issue’ aside and maybe focus on something else (anything else)?  Besides, in the time it took me to read your ridiculous article, I could have sent 17 text messages to my friends looking for drugs or discussing last night’s nooky. Clearly, our generation has larger issues.

Looks like Valentine’s Day in the 21st century looks a lot different than it used to. Whereas candy and cards used to be the only way to go, now we can email, IM, video chat, or text the people we love. But even with all those new avenues of communication, what you say and how you say it are still very important.

Since so many people will be sending texts this V-Day, you are going to need 2 things to get by:

1. An understanding of appropriate textiquette.

2. A phone that makes sending and receiving texts a whole lot easier.

Well, lookie here; we got em both for ya.

CollegeCandy teamed up with AT&T again to give one lucky reader a brand new Samsung Propel. This phone is pretty sweet, if we must say so ourselves. It is small and handy, but slides open to reveal a full keyboard! No more T-9 mishaps for you!

All you have to do is tell us your biggest texting do or don’t. Ever texted the wrong person? Ever sent a naughty picture that got around? Ever been asked on a date by the boy you love via text? Tell us everything. We’ll vote on them and announce the winner on Saturday, February 14th. Then you’ll have yourself a brand new cell to text all those important people in your life.

But, you must make sure to know what is OK and what is not OK to send. So, watch this little video courtesy of AT&T explaining the ins and outs of textiquette. Trust me; you can learn a lot!

Texting: we all do it. A lot.

It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s especially useful when making a phone call isn’t an option (like at work or in class where you technically shouldn’t be using your phone…or when you want to flirt with a guy without being too committal.).  It’s convenience is part of the reason  it’s become so popular over the last several years.

However, not everyone (Read: crotchety old people) thinks it’s so great – many critics claim that texting is contributing to the deterioration of the English language. Critics worry that the common practice of using abbreviations and shorthand in text messages will cause people begin to speaking in shorthand, too. They also claim that students are turning in papers riddled with text-message slang.

WTF are they talking about? I don’t know where they get that idea from. OK, so maybe I have been known to throw a “BRB,” “LOL,” or “OMG,” into conversation, but whatev. I can still read and write!

And some other people agree! There doesn’t seem to be any proof behind these claims, as writer David Crystal discovered when he studied the effects of text messaging on society for his book, Txtng: The Gr8 Db8.  None of the teachers he surveyed could provide him with examples of “textisms” in students’ work, and students who were asked about using texting slang in essays stated, “That would be stupid.”

See?

In fact, research has shown that texting actually improves grades.  Text messaging provides practice in both reading and writing that many people wouldn’t have otherwise. Frequent texters, therefore, have better literacy scores, are better writers, and do better in school overall. That means that we’re all actually getting smarter the more we text!

Take that, crotchety old people! Texting is saving the english language!

What do you guys think?  Is the worry over text messaging ruining the language legit? 

Two or three months went by and I was in a relationship that abruptly ended. Since nothing had progressed with Fred I felt like he was just a platonic friend and vented to him. He was amazingly supportive and said everything I wanted to hear (i.e. he was a real jerk, I don’t know what you ever saw in him, you deserve better, yadda yadda…). Well this kind of opened my eyes to Fred more and I developed a bit of a crush on him again.

He started coming over to my apartment to watch our favorite tv show. The first time we did this, we made out, things started getting intense and I ended it. He came over again and we made out again, but my roommate was here, so nothing else happened. When he left, we kissed and he promised he’d call and come pick me up the next day.

His plans changed, so we didn’t get together (but he had a good excuse, if that matters), then the next day I sent him a text and he responded, but not as quickly as he normally did. Now comes today, I didn’t text him to see if he would text me and he hasn’t. Am I being paranoid or is he trying to shoo me off?

A: Ah, the text message cat-and-mouse game. I know it well and it’s frustrating as hell to try to decode what’s really going on. There’s no emotional torture that quite compares to that of the silent cell phone.

So do I think he’s trying to shoo you off because he didn’t answer your text as quickly as he usually does, and then didn’t text you the next day? Not necessarily, no. But that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re paranoid. I’m a strong believer in gut feelings and intuition, and I’ve often had a nagging feeling that a guy I was into was trying to blow me off, however subtly or nicely. I’ve usually proceeded to completely ignore those feelings, only to have them confirmed weeks later by said guy. So, generally speaking, I think that if you have a nagging feeling that something is off, then it’s not for nothing. But you need to be honest with yourself–is it really a gut feeling, or do you just have a tendency to take a pessimistic approach at the first sign, real or imagined, of a change in your relationship and habits with a guy?

That said, a late text followed by no text the next day could very well mean nothing. I remember getting upset that I was always the one calling my (now ex-)boyfriend in the evenings. It made me feel insecure, and when I brought it up to him and asked why he doesn’t call me, his response was “well, because I know that you’ll call me.” So if you generally are the one to initiate a text chat with your dude, then he could very well be completely unaware that his not texting you is sending you a message. Or he might have felt blown off when you put a stop to the hooking up. Or he might be wary of getting involved since he has a kid. It could a dozen different things.

The best way to get to the bottom of it, of course, is to ask. “Hey, so I’ve noticed we’ve recently been making out, what’s up with that?” Give him a chance to tell you how he feels about you before deciding for him. Good luck!

Got a question for Pillow Talk? Email pillow.talk.cc@gmail.com and we’ll tackle it next time!

[Photo courtesy of Dear Sugar]

On the upside, there are definitely several things to look forward to, like our NCAA National Football Championship airline ticket giveaway, and a couple more items on the to-do list before the ball drops on 2009. Of course, if you’re looking for that perfect gift, perhaps a personal DIY project will do just the trick. Getting dolled up a la Twilight stars and pole-dancing for fitness are two of our new fave ways to look hot.

And when it comes to staying warm this season, there’s nothing like a little personal company. Whether you did the dirty with your first serious significant other or it led to a walk of shame, we’re all looking for some body heat to get us through the winter. We discussed the benefits of getting down with the game playa or the honest boy, and the scandalous new phenomenon of “sexting.” Regardless of who, when, or how often you’re hooking up, one thing is for certain: ladies are definitely getting some for themselves these days.

If all of that doesn’t help you through the end of finals, at least take these tips for saving your grades and stick around next week for more CollegeCandy fun!

After he walked me to the door of his apartment, I was left to walk of shame it on home. Which was about seventy blocks away. The problem with this building was, I couldn’t navigate it. And so wound up getting off on the wrong floor and taking the first exit I found, trying to leave gracefully.

As soon as I left the elevator, I realized that this was not the right way out. To the doors I went anyway, but then… Click. I was locked in the vestibule. Too late. I sighed and opened the main door to go into a courtyard. Fine. I could see the street beyond the other apartment buildings in the complex.

But why was there a construction barricade in the way of the stairs?

Annoyed, I shifted said barricade to get by, then headed down the stairs to the pavement. Which was being torn up. Mud and grass everywhere, and construction equipment in the middle of this courtyard. And just between me and the street? Fencing at every single possible exit, all four of them. Wedged tightly enough against the red brick that I could not squeeze through, especially not in my winter-white jacket and dress/stiletto combination from the evening prior.

Did I mention that I was sober?

I called one of my friends and explained my situation.

“So, you’re lost? Do you want me to Google where you are… Wait, you’re lost in a courtyard?”

Yes. I was lost in a courtyard.

I was trapped, and I wasn’t exactly sure where within the apartment complex I was. I walked on the grass approximately three feet before my left foot sank, ankle deep, in mud.

“Noooooooo!”

My friend could only laugh as I whined and pulled out my foot, leaving my shoe behind.

“What do I doooo?” I moaned, digging for my shoe and shaking the mud out of it. I put my dirty foot back in my ruined stiletto and tried not to touch my white coat with my now dirty hand. Calling the date was definitely not an option. I could just imagine the conversation: “Hi… yeah, I’m locked in your courtyard…” It didn’t even sound believable to me and I was there. Hell no, he could think what he wanted of me without knowing that I was also a complete idiot.

I trudged to one fence and tried to see if I could hop it. No deal, not in a dress and the coat. I stood there, assessing it, hoping maybe it would shrink. My friend assured me that it wouldn’t. More moaning and whining. Time to be proactive.

I sloshed my way over to the last unchecked entrance, fifteen minutes after this disaster had begun, and just as I gave up hope, I found a person-sized opening in the fence. I squeezed through and stomped away from the buildings and directly toward a puddle, where I attempted to rinse my foot and hand, unsuccessfully. I assured my friend, who was possibly dying of laughter, that I had escaped, and went to hail a taxi.

Thankfully, my cabdriver was understanding enough to hand me a stack of napkins as soon as I got in, and reassured me that a shower would fix my life completely. It was only after I got back to my apartment that I realized the date had my umbrella. I texted to apologize and confirm, only to get a light-hearted response that yes, he had it, along with my belt. Tack it on my tab, ’cause those stilettos were unsalvagable and would cost a small fortune to replace.

Cheers.

I didn’t even have the energy to go back. What’s another $30 worth of accessories when you leave a blind date with a story like that?