When I moved to college, the first thing I did after unpacking my shower caddy and twin extra long sheets was buy a parking spot. I had to have my car. Had to. It gets cold in Colorado, obviously, so walking all over campus in the winter was not an option. Plus, I got so used to having a car for errands, Costco runs, etc., that I just couldn’t bear to be without one.

I am sure most students feel the same way, especially since I can never find anywhere to park on campus these days. Ugh. Why do I even have a car if I can’t use it to drive to class?!

But I digress.

All of this campus street congestion that is no doubt a problem on college campuses nationwide has led many schools to start a revolution…with bikes.

The University of New England is one of a few schools (that will soon be many) that is offering free bikes to any student who leaves their car at home. Other schools are setting up bike share programs, which entice students to pedal around campus instead of hopping in the car. These schools are hoping that by giving students a real alternative, they will not feel the need to bring their car to campus.

And it looks like it’s all working - for more than just the parking sitch:

“We did it as a means of reducing the need for parking, but as we looked at it from the standpoint of fitness, health and sustainability, we realized we have the opportunity to create a change.”

The whole idea is really quite smart. By opting for a bike instead of a car you could help the environment, save money on parking (and parking tickets…), get healthy, and free up some of those parking spots for the rest of us reduce the number of cars clogging your campus streets. And all for free!

This looks like a total win/win.

[I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going gal, and try not to sweat the small stuff. But sometimes (ok, maybe slightly more often) the general cluelessness, carelessness and overall stupididty of some things and or/people really gets to me. I find that venting is the most efficient way to rid myself of the stress that idiots, wrong meal orders, lack of cell phone ettiquette and cheese flavored products (that don’t even contain any freaking cheese!) induce. So, in an attempt to avoid an ulcer or an unfortuante road rage incident, I vent to you, dear reader. Please feel free to join in and comment about anything–really, anything–that pissed. you. off. this week. Let it all hang out. I feel you.]

Football game traffic.
Under no condition should any human be confined to a small metal box harnessed into their seats and surrounded by others doing the same thing. A sweet play list is only a small consolation for being stuck in bumper to bumper traffic as you jealously stare at drunken fans playing flip cup on their front lawns, hours ahead of your severely lacking tailgate level. The only thing worse than the knowledge of your slowly depleting gas tank is the realization that you are missing out on precious pregaming time.

Senseless Acts of Brutality.
I hope that the inclusion of the tragic events affecting Jennifer Hudson’s family on this list doesn’t seem insensitive, because I am pissed. The woman, apart from being beautiful and talented, seems like such a kind person that it’s hard to imagine how anyone could hurt her and her family. Additionally, the pain inflicted on their family is only deepened by the disappearance of Hudson’s 7-year-old nephew. However horribly inhumane it is to commit murder, to take a child from their home and place them in danger is unforgivable a thousand times over. I hope the guilty party is caught and subject to the same pain they put the Hudson family through. Read More »

Unlike most people who only have their birthdays to celebrate every year, I am fortunate enough to have two days in my honor:

March 21st - the day my mother pushed me out of her womb
October 15th - National Grouch Day

Whereas I am always shunned, yelled at and abused for being a “royal bitch,” today I, and others like me, am celebrated for my general moodiness. I am finally vindicated for my annoyance at my roommates leaving their sh*t all over the house, for those mother-effers who can’t figure out what a turn signal is, and for the jerks down the street who keep playing that same damn Lil Wayne song over and over and over.

I don’t have to be ashamed for yelling at the Subway dude who put mayo on my 6 inch turkey on whole wheat with “absolutely no sauces, spices or mayo,” or for pushing the bitch at the bar who cut me in line and then got the last Amstel Light.

No. Today is my day. MINE. A day for me to be who I am and for those around me to celebrate it by leaving me the eff alone. Do not hug me, sing to me, or send me a card; all I want on this day is acceptance of my grouchiness.

And maybe for you people to clean up the damn kitchen. Is that too much to ask?!

Because my college career will be drawing to a close soon, my mind is winding its way towards that point in my life when I will no longer be a carefree college student. I will be a— what do they call it again? A grown-up?

In that same frame of mind, I’ve been looking at my so-called grown-up friends to see how their lives are different from my own, searching for things that would tell me when I’ve become one of them, or if maybe -gasp- I’m already there. Here is what I came up with.

5 Signs that you are now entering Adultsville:

1. Bills. Gone are the days of blissful ignorance as to how the lights stayed on at home or the hot water kept running. Now those infuriating little statements just keep slipping through the mail slot. Phone bill, gas bill, waterworks, eating away at your paycheck- your new pair of shoes! It was a lot more fun when you had an allowance.

2. Your parents are asking you to drive them places. You thought it was your ticket to freedom when you got your license, huh? Wink, wink. Mom and Dad were just waiting for the day when they wouldn’t have to take you anywhere and you could start chauffeuring them around. Now it’s, “Honey, can you take me to the doctor’s on Monday?” and, “Oh, could you stop by the grocery store after work and pick some things up for me?” Don’t forget doing someone else’s errands: “Your sister’s done with soccer practice at 6.” Some kind of freedom. Read More »

• Authorities in Park Slope say that a little girl who draws on the sidewalk is to be fined for graffiti. Well, good! I needed just one more reason to think that Brooklyn is totally, totally lame. (Brooklyn Press)

• Pirates vs Zombies! Apparently, they couldn’t wait two more weeks. (Pioneer Press)

• Best/worst quote of the week: “[She was] Just holding the baby out of the window and I was like ‘Oh no … no … no.’” (Baynews9.com)

• Kinda like the story above, except reverse! I can’t help but think the little guy is adorable (and a better driver than me!). (Yahoo!)

• Parents who sign their kids up for pole dancing lessons are f*cking idiots…but, like, if you’re 9 years old and dancing on a pole while your other friends are playing T-Ball…wouldn’t you kinda know something isn’t quite right? (COED Magazine)

• London will be thinking of nothing but sex for months! (The Guardian)

• According to the last link, this title is totally deserved. (The Sun)

• This is the best practical joke ever. Also, Springfield cops are really understanding. (rrstar.com)

• This little kid means business! (seattlepi.com)

• A list of gay superheroes…in Harper’s Magazine? Weird. (Harper’s)

The true college experience demands bar hopping or clubbing with a pair of incredibly adorable stilettos on. (Did I just succeed in the most shallow first-liner ever?) They probably cost a ridiculous amount (month’s worth of paychecks to be exact), but for a 5’3” little one like myself, an amazing pair of stilettos can make you feel braver and sexier, stepping over spilt drinks and strutting past bad pick up lines to stroll out of the bar with a fine piece of arm candy named Josh…or maybe it’s John? (Does it really matter?)

Anyway…we know all this is true about the right pair of stilettos, but your poor little piggies will certainly beg to differ, and it’s likely that by your second drink your feet will be screaming get-these-off-NOW. As someone whose big toe has been dubbed ‘the astronaut’, (It’s abnormally large, and my wide toenail has been said to strangely resemble a NASA astronaut’s space mask…once again, shouldn’t admit that.) Needless to say I am strongly against my feet being crammed up into the pointy corner of a leopard print stiletto, especially if my agenda for the night entails urgently important events… like stumbling down frat row.

Ah, but fear no more high-heel loving ladies, the fashion goddesses have answered our prayers. I introduce to you, the convertible stiletto. Read More »