[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.]

The Phone in the Toilet:

You put on your cutest (and tightest) jeans for the partayyy. When you arrive at the house, you drop your jacket in your friend’s room, take a few shots and head out to the living room to mingle. Your best friend is coming late/the boy you want always texts you late-night, so you keep your phone on vibrate in your back pocket so you can feel it when it rings.

You take more shots. And more. And drink a lot of beer. You laugh, you party, you begin to feel really drunk.

And, OMG, you have to pee so badly.

You head upstairs to use the bathroom; it’s gotta be cleaner than the one on the main floor, not to mention the line is probably shorter. Ugh – it’s not. You pull your phone out of your pocket in hopes that your boy-toy has sent you a “where you at?” text message, then shove the phone back into your pocket when the door opens and two people (looking particularly happy) walk out.

You run into the bathroom, lock the door, and stumble as you attempt to pull your jeans down. Just before you get them below your knees you hear a plunk and, HolySh*tNoEffingWayOhMyGodOhMyGod, your phone is in the toilet. 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 »

Yom Kippur is all about reflection. So, I spent a good portion of yesterday in synagogue reflecting on things I have done over the past year in an effort to clean my slate and ask God for forgiveness. I usually try not to regret those things that I have done, but that is not always possible, especially when alcohol is involved.

1. I regret that time I met a guy at a bar and did some naughty things at a very public table. That other people may have been sitting at. And the bar also happened to be a restaurant. And it was definitely not sanitary.

2. I regret purchasing condoms while drunk and choosing that the ones that glow in the dark/have spikes “for her enjoyment.” I did not enjoy them that night, nor did I enjoy the way those spikes made me feel for the next 3 days.

3. I regret thinking hooking up in a boy’s bathroom was “hot” – it was not. In fact, it was dirty, moldy and didn’t have a lock. So, with that, I regret that guy’s roommates walking in and getting quite a show.

4. I regret hooking up in my roommate’s bed because she then hooked up in my bed in retaliation…and made a much bigger mess. Read More »

I went out with a guy once. On our first date we went to dinner, and things were going so well that when he took me home I invited him in.

At which point he asked me if he could borrow a book while he “dealt with all the dairy” he had just eaten.

True story. And it ended right there; I never called him again.

I have no problem with talking about farts and poop, but I do have a problem doing so on date #1. I just don’t understand why guys feel the need to bring up the bowels when we haven’t even locked lips yet. And then there is the whole double standard; why can he fart in the car and lock the windows but I can’t even mention the fact that I poop without him cringing and curling up in the fetal position?

I asked my guy friends to break it all down for me - apparently farting is a sign of endearment. Read on… Read More »

The bartender’s calling last call, but the night is still young. You’ve been chatting it up with a great guy all night, and you’re both ready to go beyond friendship and polite conversation. The question isn’t are you going to hook up? The question is where.

His Place
Pro: You don’t have to worry about the pile of dirty laundry on your bedroom floor.
Con: You have no idea if he has to worry about the pile of dirty laundry on his bedroom floor.

Your Place
Pro: You can easily access your toothbrush and contact lens solution.
Con: He can easily access all of the secrets of your medicine cabinet.

His Place
Pro: You don’t have to worry about waking up/sexiling your roommate.
Con: You have to worry about his roommates.

Your Place
Pro: You won’t have to take a walk of shame in the morning.
Con: You risk your entire floor seeing him leave your room. Read More »

Friday night: You’re at a crowded bar, and have to pee. Fearing the toilet seat, you pop a squat, clench your thigh muscles and hold onto the walls while you unleash your last five beers. You make sure you wash your hands (sometimes twice, depending on how filthy the pub is), and maybe even reach into your purse for some hand sanitizer, just to be safe.

Saturday night: You’re at a frat party. You just won three consecutive games of beer pong. You don’t think twice about drinking your cups, despite the fact that you’ve seen the ball land in other peoples’ used cups, roll along the basement floor, and watched the ball pass between thirty-something unwashed hands.

What gives?!?

Obviously, beer pong isn’t the most sanitary party game out there. But you have the “water cup,” right? That cup of tepid, dirty water is totes gonna disinfect that old, recycled ping pong ball (that was most likely found under someone’s bed 10 minutes before party time). Or not.

Some microbiology students at George Washington University decided to test exactly how detrimental to your health beer pong can be. If you like beer pong, you may want to skip this article. Read More »

I can’t help it. Ever since I heard Usher’s not-so-new song, Love in This Club, I can’t help but want to…well…make love in this club. Any club, really. Not necessarily “this” one. Not that I have something against this one, but I like to keep my options open.

There is something so hot about the thought of meeting some guy – preferably one that looks like Usher – and being so into it that you can’t even wait to get home. You just gotta go to it. Right. There.

I don’t know if I’d be quite uninhibited enough to do it “on the couch, on the table, on the bar, or on the floor.” I know that Usher “don’t care who watching,” but, really? The bar? Isn’t that a teensy, tiny bit…public? Plus, I got thrown out of a bar last month for making out in front of the bartender; I can only imagine what the bartenders would have to say about me grabbing onto the beer taps in a fit of pleasure. Read More »

There are a lot of traditional expectations of women to which I don’t match up with smoothly. For the most part, I don’t even care to bother meeting up to these expectations. Except for this one thing:

I wish I could be cleaner.

I don’t have a neat-freak bone anywhere in my body. I’m not convinced that I even want a neat-freak bone. But when I walk into some friends’ homes and everything is immaculately clean…it makes me wonder why I too can’t prioritize cleaning.

In order for me to clean, I really need to be expecting guests. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not DIRTY. I don’t leave food out, I do the dishes, take out the trash, blah blah. Oh, and I bathe. But I’m A-OK with leaving my shoes, jackets, purses, etc. all over the living room and I don’t mind if my roomies do, either. I don’t care if there’s makeup all over the counter and the bathroom floors aren’t spotless. Did I miss a memo somewhere?

It doesn’t even ‘run’ in my family. My family is actually very neat and they often argued with me over being somewhat of a slob growing up. I guess I just can’t see why cleaning is more important than sitting on the couch.

It’s not something I necessarily learned from my friends, either. In fact, my friends are kind of the people who make pay attention to the fact that I’m not like them. Take my good friend, Cara, for example. She mops her floors incessantly. When we get into her place from spending the evening out she literally - no f*cking joke - mops the floor. Am I crazy for thinking this is crazy? Read More »