Your first weekend at college is going to be so much fun that Monday morning will probably come as a shock to you. Wait…you mean, you actually have to go to class? Well, yes. Strangely enough, I think that’s actually what those huge tuition payments are going toward- the actual classes- and not the parties, fun, and excessive drinking you’re going to be partaking in.

I know, I know. It sucks. Because not only do you have to attend so many classes per week (some which may be held at the dreadful hour of 8:00 a.m.), but you also have to do a little thing called studying for those classes.

OK, so maybe this doesn’t scare you. Maybe you were an all-star student in high school and had no problem coming home in the evenings and studying. Well, welcome to college.

Studying is a bit more difficult in college. Why? Well, first of all, you’re surrounded by friends 24/7; friends who want to go out drinking and partying at all times. Not to mention, there’s just always something going on, whether it’s activities your college has planned, 3-hour trips to the dining hall, walks around campus, or just hanging out in the hallway of your dorm getting to know your fellow freshmen.

Unfortunately, in order to stay at college having fun, you need to pass your classes, which means you’re probably going to need to study at one point or the other. Ugh. So, here are a few study tips to that will help you keep those grades up so you can return to college to party some more next semester (we have our priorities here): Read More »

I’m really not a crier. Not at movies, when I’m sad, when I’m frustrated, nothing. It just doesn’t happen. My entire family is that way, we just aren’t wired to shed tears.

I flew home for a funeral two months ago and my mom’s best friend from childhood came over, sobbing her condolences as she handed us boxes of muffins and pastries. After she left, the three of us looked at each other, our brows furrowed, until finally my mom asked aloud, “What’s wrong with us?”

That’s not to say we don’t mourn. Oh, we mourn, we grieve, but we’re more the type to crack a joke or tell a story about the departed than clutch a box of Kleenex and let our mascara run. Well, my mother and I. Dad doesn’t wear mascara.

When I picked up and left home to move for my career, as we all call our first job after college in attempt to take ourselves more seriously, I really only cried when I said my goodbyes to my college roommates and after I walked my parents to their taxi. For like a minute, and then it was time to get real. Since I’ve been here, it’s just not something I have time or privacy for. Read More »