As college students, we are constantly inundated with new knowledge. It can be useful, thought-provoking, or crammed into our head on a Starbucks-fueled binge several hours before an exam. However, very rarely do we question the validity of all this new knowledge (unless you take philosophy classes, then you’ll question away).

That’s where College Candy comes in. We’re not going to debate whether or not the Theory of Relativity actually exists (a disappointment, I know, but I’m a communications major and stopped taking science classes after Baby Bio fresh year). However, we are here to thoroughly investigate the most widespread college knowledge (no, not rhyming): the myth.

This week, I’ve been busy with preparations for my 21^st birthday party on Saturday (FINALLY). Amidst trying to find a free party bus and a hot pink dress right after everyone’s Fall colors came out, I began to stress about the optimal level of intoxication I’m aiming for (somewhere in between taking over the DJ booth and being escorted out of the club). I don’t want to be too drunk, but I know I’ll be surrounded by people trying very hard to get me very wasted. I thought to myself, “Well, I’ll start with a few rounds of shots, then downgrade to flip cup and beer pong to mellow myself out.”

There it is, the golden rule. Liquor before beer and you’re in the clear! The thing is, I know this isn’t true, I knew on my 16^th birthday that this “rule” was BS. The amount of alcohol you drink—not the type and not the order in which you drink it—determines how drunk you get.

But how has this myth persisted for so long if so much scientific evidence proves it’s false? Well, for me at least, personal experience holds much more weight than whatever the people in lab coats have to say. And my personal experience has taught me that beer before liquor almost always leaves me sicker. So why the huge disagreement between the scientists and the drunk people? Let’s examine this logically. Read More »

Dear Drunk Girl,

Hi sweetie. Long time no see. I take that back. I saw you last Friday. Same place, same hazy look in your eyes, different black dress that falls down to expose your bra. This one doesn’t have vomit on it… yet! Congratulations.

As much as going out and drinking in college is an integral part of your experience, I don’t think you serenading a fraternity with “Like a Virgin” into your half-empty Smirnoff handle (your makeshift microphone) while balancing on a coffee table is necessarily the right way to spend your Tuesday night.

You were very stylish at the beginning of the night. Your dress hung perfectly, eyelashes were curled, hair was straightened, heels were spotless and your jewelry matched. However, after those three, four or five shots of Patron? That sexy little dress you picked up at the Saks sale is riding up and showing off your embarrassing leopard print boy shorts. The mascara you so diligently applied is now running down your face after your tearful breakdown about how much you “love everyone sooooo much” and “like, can’t wait to have you all as my bridesmaids.” You seem to have more hair in your face than in your ponytail and one of your high heels is nowhere to be found. Check yourself, honey. Read More »

[It doesn’t matter what school you go to, what state it is in, how big it is, whether it is public or private, all girls or coed…there are experiences that all college students share. No matter how crazy you think your personal situation is, it is not just you.

So, let’s bring it all out in the open. Right here. Because you are not alone - we’ve all been there before.]

Hugging the Bowl:

You started the evening out with the girls and a few shots of vodka to the tune of Bon Jovi blaring from the stereo. Then you moved onto the party, where you couldn’t not play 10 rounds of flip cup, followed by a game of beer pong. You were feeling good – really good – so you decided to give into the boys and do a keg stand.

After all, you had to show them what you’re made of.

When your feet are firmly back on the ground it hits you: you are totally f**ked up. The room is spinning, the floor is rocking and all you can think about is getting home and dying.

But you don’t want anyone to think you are a wimp (because you’re not!), so you pull one of the girls aside and whisper, “I’m tired. I think I’m gonna go,” which comes out more like, “I’m <hiccup> tiiiired. I <hiccup> mthink I’mgomna <vurp> go.” Your friend offers to go with you.

You stumble home, run straight to the bathroom and strip down to your bra and underwear. Your friend brings you water in the bathroom as you crouch over the toilet and start spitting into the bowl. Your knees hurt already, but you are not leaving the bathroom until you puke, dammit. Read More »