9. I HAVE FRIENDS
As soon as I arrive home from school for summer break I spend the next three months filling my family members in on everything that happened to me throughout the year. I expect them to smile, laugh, cry, and sob at all the appropriate moments in a story and I can’t lie, I get very angry when they don’t. I cannot comprehend why my mom doesn’t find it hilarious that I woke up next to a homeless man one morning. Even my dog is walking out on my, “and one time at school…” stories when August arrives. So it’s always exciting to get back to school and be around the people that star in all my stories.

8. ALCOHOL IS TO GET DRUNK
One of the hardest parts of readjusting to home life is drinking alcohol in moderation. When I first came home my parents would offer me a glass of wine at dinner and I would chug it down and put my glass out for more. They told me I needed to learn moderation, I told them that they needed to learn that if they wanted to get buzzed before the first course they would have to sip a little faster. They suggested I might be an alcoholic, I suggested that they suck. I can’t wait to go back to school, drink wine from a box and take shots of what may or may not be rubbing alcohol and not get stared down for getting drunk before sunset.

7. NO PARENTS
I’m very old now and so its ludicrous for me to have any rules when I’m home. However that doesn’t stop my mother from playing twenty questions every time I go out or come home. How was it? Who was there? Does she like school? What did you drink? Did you buckle up? How much did you tip? Did you see anyone from high school? Really? She got that fat? I love being at school and stumbling home at 3 a.m and having no one care. I love waking up underneath the kitchen table and not having to give anyone a reason why. Read More »

Word on the street is that Glamour has perfected the recipe for engagement (literally. It’s chicken.) And while this is all well and good for you ladies on the hunt for that rock, some of us aren’t exactly ready to take that plunge….we could however, always use a little culinary nudge in the right direction for the object(s) of our affection.

So whether you want your best friend to fall in love with you, you’re hoping to prove that you’re girlfriend material, if you want that relationship confirmation on Facebook– I present to you, Seal the Deal Steak. Not only will you woo your lucky dining partner with your grillin’ skillz, you will hopefully secure that next step. And the best part? While the end result will look like you slaved away in the kitchen all day, the meal couldn’t be simpler to create.

It worked for me (I still get requests from my boo to make this), so give it a try and let’s test the success rate!

What you’ll need:
Two cuts of beef of your preference. I use Filet Mignon because it usually has the nicest marbling and is most often the leanest. However you can subsitutue with strip, for a stronger beef flavor (a male favorite) or porterhouse, which is fattier with a richer flavor (just be prepared to work around the bone with this kind.)
1 lemon
2 medium sized baking potatoes
1 bunch Asparagus
4 oz. Baby Portobello mushrooms
Seasoning Salt
Cooking twine
A steamer with basket
Small saute pan
*Optional
1 cup chicken broth
Bearnaise Sauce (I cheat and use the store bought packets)
1 whole French baguette Read More »

The weekend is over. You still feel hungover. You have no idea where all your money went. And where is that other shoe? I mean, how the hell did you get home with only one shoe? Ugh, and now you have to be up and chipper for that damn internship that doesn’t pay you anything anyway. Not that you do anything there. You just sit around waiting for someone to give you something to do while you refresh Facebook/CollegeCandy every 5 minutes.

Yeah, it all really sucks, but let’s be honest….you still look a whole lot better than this.

What the hell happened to Madonna? Her face is sinking in! And look at those scary arms! I wonder if her baseball boyfriend turned her on to the ‘roids?

Poor lady. All that marriage drama and weird religion bullsh*t is really taking its toll on the pop superstar. She used to be a fashion/sex/music icon and now…now, all she is doing is making me feel a whole lot better about my Monday-morning-under-eye-circles.

Thanks, Madge!

[Photo courtesy of TheSuperficial.com. Love it!]

Growing up, I always had a very large and disproportionate sense of my own dignity. I was not to be troubled by these impurities of the flesh; I buried my nose in books and ignored the swirling talk of the girls around me. When I hit puberty, I felt violated somehow, as if my body had betrayed me by being real after all, and being a major pain.

While other girls in my class talked easily about their experiences and commiserated about cramps, I was mortified by the whole experience and didn’t want to talk about it to anyone — not to parents, doctors, or friends. The whole business was just embarrassing and shouldn’t be mentioned except when absolutely necessary, I thought.

Only after years of getting older and wiser have I lost some of my adolescent self-consciousness and become comfortable telling someone when I have cramps (in case they haven’t guessed from me being doubled up on the floor). I still don’t have much tolerance for discussing sex, though. I don’t mind it when others talk, but I’d blush like mad to speak about it myself. So am I just a Puritan, or is there a place in the world for the bashful as well? Read More »

So, you met a hottie out on the town. Against your better judgment (because you can imagine what your mom would say if she knew what you were doing), you went home with him. And it was fun. Really fun. Your clothes are strewn around the room and if you weren’t so exhausted from the marathon romp session, you would be a bit more worried about where the hell your underwear was at the moment.

You pass out as the sun begins to peek its way out from behind the tapestry haphazardly hung over the window, the gent’s arm wrapped around your waist.

Then you wake up. You turn over the boy has his back to you. He’s snoring. You run to the bathroom to pee, trying not to wake him up, but hoping at the same time that you do. After all, it’s sorta awkward; you can’t just leave without him getting up. That would be weird.

You come back into the bed (after searching frantically in the bathroom for some mouthwash/gum and fixing your hair/makeup so you still look fresh) and he stirs. You make a joke about how tired you are and throw yourself into the bed. Random conversation ensues and most likely includes discussion of hangovers, how much you drank last night and how that water you chugged before bed was just divine.

And then….what? You know what you want to do. You want to have morning sex. Who doesn’t? Morning sex is the best way to start the day. (Some people think Wheaties is the breakfast of champions, but you and this boy both know the truth.) It is pretty much a given at this point, but neither of you really know how to broach the subject, mostly because you are both sober now and things are slightly awkward.

Read More »

Seriously, who gives out their number anymore?

I remember having a drunken bonding moment with a really cool guy in college a few years ago, and he asked for my number. I asked for his screen name instead. I mean, IM-ing someone is so much more casual, and so much less stressful. You don’t have to feel your heart thumping through your chest as the phone rings. Is he going to answer? Is it going to go to voicemail? Is he blocking me? What do I say if he picks up?

With IM, you can see if he’s away or idle, and choose your own adventure from there. You can leave a casual “Just wanted to say I had a great time last night” IM, rather than starting a phone call with the same line and then struggling to make small talk. Likewise, you can make small talk behind the shield of the IM window, where he can’t hear your voice crack, and where you can copy and paste the whole convo to all of your girlfriends and get advice while you try to weed out his intentions.

And then came Facebook. The social network has made quite the mark on the dating scene. There’s the poke, which can be viewed as casual, flirty, or creepy. There’s the “it’s complicated” label for the relationship you’re in (finally- you can be open about having a f*ck buddy without warding off the rest of the male population!); and of course, there’s the wall post, which makes the casual IM seem like the awkward phone call of yesteryear. Read More »

Christian Bale was merely defending his wife? Awwwww!

Wanna work in politics? Just have an affair!

Sick of Facebook yet? Yeah, me either. But it just got even better.

Viagra may work for women?

Apparently, some dudes agreed that women in skinny jeans could not be raped because removing them would require consent? Yeah…took awhile, but that’s been reversed.

The Jo-Bros are probably pissing off a lot of Dallas homeowners right now….

Porta-Potty art! (Doesn’t make the smell go away, though.)

Earth-friendly junk mail? Hot granny panties? Declining gas prices? Impossible!

An old favorite to get you through the day. Weeeeeeeeeee!

A growing sense of disdain for Dubya didn’t cut it. Being able to register at the DMV just didn’t do the trick either. P. Diddy couldn’t get us to do it, for Christ’s sake. So just what will it take to seriously win the youth vote? We are, after all, 20 million strong and dammit we deserve to be wooed!

I, for one, would like to see an increase in, shall we say, “game” from candidates both blue and red. McCain, obviously, has taken a step toward this lofty goal by recruiting the support of one of our high holy leaders. Sorry, Obama, that you have neglected to secure such a prestigious pledge of loyalty from the chosen generation (us, duh) but feel free to borrow any of these gems that I think would increase voter turnout for those of the youthful persuasion. You see gentlemen, the key to our hearts is to manipulate our basic dependence upon the following:

Natty Lite
Slap some platform positions on the back of those bad boys and cover up the saddening nutrition facts–we don’t need to see that anyways. I consider this a double-edged sword. Not only would the important issues be readily at hand (provided you go coozie-less), but additionally, voters can appreciate the conversational lubrication that is cheap beer. As inspiring as 4.2% alcohol can be to philosophical convos (if you drink, don’t EVEN pretend you’ve never been there post bar crawl!) that stuff takes a while to imbibe, making those discussions last just a wee bit longer. Now that a pseudo intellectual discush has gone down, both candidates have enjoyed spirited (literally) debate over their issues that should inspire sober consideration come November. Read More »

Put this under Things You Should Not Do If You Want To Remain A Happy Person: finding out what your ex is up to now.

To preface, I’m not talking about the person you dated for a month who you kind of cared about but never enough to commit and / or introduce him to your friends. If you want to look through that guy’s Facebook or Myspace, go ahead. Seeing him with his arms wrapped around another girl will probably do nothing but make you kind of glad you’re no longer seeing someone who thinks weird neck tattoos of skulls are cool.

But look, if you loved the dude (or chick), and it kind of ripped your heart out when things ended, do yourself a favor let them remain a mystery. Don’t try to find them on Facebook if you’re not already connected, unfriend them if you are, don’t ask mutual friends about who they’re dating, and for the love of god, DON’T GOOGLE THEM.

I am a naturally nosey person, but after The Big Ex and I split up years ago, I refused to seek out information on the girl he started dating a mere few weeks after our 4 year stint ended. I knew my friends had info, I could tell by their eyes whenever they tried to jump away from the subject, but I never pressed them. And when information was accidentally spilled to me, I made a conscious effort to change the subject and told people “I really don’t care to know”. It was hard, because I did care to know, but I knew that need for knowledge was coming from a macabre place in my brain that loved to torture the rest of me. Read More »

When it comes to Facebook, you would be lying if you said you never found yourself looking at the pictures your winter vacation hookup (from 2001) just posted… or at the girl that annoyingly keeps writing on your boyfriend’s wall (and at all of her friends). I know, I know, you just randomly, somehow, stumbled upon them; you really, truly, only logged on to check your messages…3 hours ago. And now you are searching for that cute guy you met last night whose last name you don’t know (why did his name have to be Aaron?!).

Let’s face it; we’ve all stooped a little bit lower than we like to admit (logging on to a friend’s account to look at someone not in your network). Posted something for the sake of ONE person seeing it (an ex boyfriend perhaps? This picture totally screams “I am SOO over you”), or for the whole Facebook world to see (Look! I met Vince Vaughn! We sat at his table! This totally validates that I am cool. Take that all you who shoved me in a locker in high school!).

Every now and again, we all do a bit of random stalking or, as I chose to call it, investigative journalism. (The dictionary of my life says an email to my friends reporting my findings completely counts as journalism… “He’s single! Scooore!”) But with all this quasi-stalking that we do, we never really think that we are that important or fascinating enough that total randoms would waste their time looking at our photos from Halloween 2006.

That is, until it happens to you… and you find out.

And then, Facebook becomes really creepy. Read More »