Yeah, you heard right: Bitches is crazy.

Every girl has a story about some other girl who stabbed her in the back and then made her feel like crap about it. I mean, unfortunately, it’s a fact of life. Women are mean to each other.

Now, obviously, this is messed up. Aren’t men mean enough? Why do we have to make each other miserable too? But the fact is, we do.

So how to deal with such underhandedness? Cry? Scream? Pee in her soup?

Nope! Take the high road and follow these easy tips for counteracting cattiness. Because, seriously? She’s SO not worth it.

Don’t Cry
This is usually the first instinct. In that stinging moment when you discover her betrayal, tears almost always seem inevitable.

But fight those motherf*ckers!! Tears make her happy and make you look upset. And that’s what you don’t want. Think about something really funny and bite the inside of your cheek. Do NOT let her see you cry. Read More »

Because no one in the CC office wants to believe that Christian Bale is the type of guy who would flip out at his sister and mother randomly, we’ve been following this story every step of the way (I mean, it’s a matter of possibly kicking him out of our fantasises forever…it’s important). Here’s what we’ve learned this morning:

1) His mother used to be a clown. Legitimately.
2) He may or may not have a short temper (which may be due to the fact that he plays tortured dudes all the time)
3) His sis allegedly asked him for a loan of 100,000 pounds (roughly $200,200), and he said no
4) His mom allegedly insulted his wife, and Bale went all “Oh no you DIDN’T!” on her ass
5) Bale’s family “never wanted to ruin his night” but felt they needed to “teach him a lesson”

Aside from saying what he had for breakfast the day of the blow up, reporters are doing their best to dig through Bale’s past and find some deep, dark poison in his soul or something. Our hypothesis? The guy has a bad temper, has been stressed out for a while, had a giant fight with the fam, and because he’s a celebrity that “row” turned into some kind of Battlestar Galactica implosion in the media.

So yeah, Beautiful Bale isn’t out of our fantasies yet…we just may reconsider challenging him to a rousing game of Battleship…because that sh*t gets heated.

It might be a genius idea to have the reunion show before the finale. I try to care enough to watch the reunions but usually they are a waste of my time. We don’t get much out of them; all we see is that after watching themselves on TV, the contestants have gone out and gotten new hair or lost weight or sat in a tanning bed for a while.

I don’t remember most of these people so I hope that I don’t have to hear them talk. I wish that Jay had missed his flight out of Jersey.

Everyone is out on stage except for Chad, Bo and Kristy. I guess Chad has to be kept away from Bo, especially if there’s some lawsuit lurking.

We’re treated to clips of everyone making fun of Jay because he sucks, Glitter because she’s crazy and George for being nocturnally creepy. What’s up with staying up all night to watch everyone sleep?

I wish that someone would fill a tube sock with silver dollars and smack Jay in the mouth to make him shut up. You are NOT a bad ass; CHAD had to fight ‘for’ you, little man, because you can’t head butt anyone in the face unless they’re too short to go on the upside down roller coasters at the county fair.

I don’t know who’s calling Jay out, but I like her. Who threw a chair at him? Haaaaa!!!!!! Do it, Jersey girl Lauren!!! Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 186
Mood: Trapped

I sat in the oncoming darkness, my feet resting against the wooden pew in front of me. I loved the chapel at dusk; it was always empty, always silent, and provided the best view of the setting sun anywhere on campus.

For the past week, I had been coming here almost every night. I’d eat dinner in the dining hall with Rebecca or Naima or Crystal, and then slip away with an excuse of studying in the library or going to the gym. The fact was that I never saw either of those places. I was always in the chapel, sitting in one of the last pews, watching the cold dusk sun slide across the walls until it disappeared completely.

I wasn’t really sure why I was there. It just seemed like the right place to go. The easiest place to think.

Justin and Sasha had been avoiding me for a week and a half. Ever since the party at the soccer house, and the giant, drunken fight they had gotten into. Ever since they had punched each other bloody and then been dragged away by mutual friends. Ever since I had hid in an upstairs bathroom and waited for thirty minutes, then snuck out the back door. They hadn’t spoken a single word to me. But it wasn’t like they were seeing me and just ignoring me, they were plain avoiding me. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 180
Mood: Scared

“Look, if we go out there, are you ready to deal with him?”

Justin still held the doorknob, his mouth tightening as Sasha’s knocking and yelling got louder.

“Deal with him?” I checked my watch and saw that it was close to 1 A.M. I didn’t know much about parties and drinking, but from what little I did know, I knew that past midnight, things got strange. Got out of control.

“He’s drunk. He’s gonna say things. Sasha says things.”

“What the HELL?! Open UP!”

It sounded like Sasha was throwing his entire weight against the door. I moved closer to Justin and grabbed onto his shirt without thinking. “Let just get out of here. It’s fine. We’ll deal with whatever.”

Justin looked down quickly at my fingers intertwined with the cloth of his shirt. Without saying anything, he put his free hand over mine. “Okay. Just. Ignore everything that comes out of his mouth.”

Turning the knob, Justin opened the bathroom door seconds before Sasha threw his fists against it again. A small crowd had gathered around him, watching in amused disgust as Sasha took his drunk anger out on a door that seemed only a few shards away from breaking in half. Most of the onlookers probably would have cheered if he had broken it down. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 167
Mood: frozen

“Grace, you’re soaked” Rebecca tugged on my shirt and spoke into my ear, keeping her eyes on Justin and Sasha. The tension between them was palpable; I knew she could feel it too. “Why don’t you at least change your shirt? You can wear one of mine.”

I didn’t want to leave the living room. I didn’t want to leave Justin alone with Sasha. But Rebecca was right. I was practically dripping alcohol. Like I had just jumped into a pool full of Jack Daniels.

“Let’s just run into a room. I’ll wear my long sleeve and you can wear the camisole I have under it. It’s fine.” Rebecca kept pulling on my arm, her jitters obvious in the repetition of her actions. Even tipsy, Rebecca couldn’t let her guard down. She knew something was off. She knew something was crackling in the air, and she wanted to leave before the match was lit.

“I have to…” I looked up at Justin. “I have go change.”

“What?” Justin blinked. He looked at me as though it surprised him I was still standing there.

“I have to go change. Everyone spilled stuff on me.” Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 100
Mood: Total crap

“Here. I got the last piece.” Justin set a giant piece of chocolate cake in front of me and walked over to his own seat. “We’ll share. How ‘bout that?”

“This is huge!” I poked a fork into the inches of frosting.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those girls.” Justin sat down and leaned across our small corner café table, scooping up a piece with his own fork. “You don’t look like one of those girls who doesn’t eat stuff because she’s all caught up with being fat or whatever.” He shoved the piece into his mouth, “how can you not enjoy something like this?”

Poking the cake again, I stopped myself from admitting that sometimes I was very close to being one of those girls. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t thin either, and consuming a giant piece of chocolate cake at 11:30pm on a Monday was not how I usually did things.

But it also wasn’t usual for me to be caught up in a school-wide scandal, or sit inches away from a tall, attractive guy who liked to smile at me. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 92
Mood: Happy to be home

“Hey!”

I waved at a group of kids standing around a small red Toyota, feeling a pang of anxiety as the car continued to stay small, no matter how close I came to it. This was going to be a tight fit.

“Hey! She makes it at the last second, as always!” Jonathan opened up the trunk and started to push things around in the back. “Thought you were gonna walk home.”

Grabbing my overstuffed bag, Crystal’s boyfriend heaved it into the last remaining empty space in the trunk, pushing it against other bags and backpacks to make room for the door to close. As he jammed the bags together with his elbow, I cringed, thinking about all the clothes, make-up, and hair products that might be exploding all over the insides of my suitcase.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” I said, stuffing some loose brown hair into my winter hat. “I would have been stuck here.”

“No prob, bob.” Slamming the trunk, Jon smiled and walked around to the driver’s seat, motioning to the two other people already in the back, “it’s probably gonna be a tight squeeze, but it’s only like 2 hours. We can make it.” Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 90
Mood: Guilty

“Do you have any gum?”

Stacey shifted in the brown leather chair, straightening her blazer. She had dressed for the occasion, opting to go for “mature and classical” instead of her usual “fake and preppy”.

I was sporting my standard jeans and long sleeved shirt look, being under the impression that the Dean of Student Life didn’t really care about our clothes.

“Here.” I reached into my giant purse and pulled out a half-crushed packet of gum. “You sure you want to be talking to Dean Carlon with stuff in your mouth, though?”

“Do you have any gum that hasn’t been through the washing machine?” Crinkling her noise, Stacey stared at my hand like I was passing her a dead rat. “And I was gonna spit it out before going in there anyway. I just have this horrible taste in the back of my throat.” Begrudgingly taking a piece of gum from the pack, Stacey slipped it behind her shiny pink lips and bleached white teeth. “I always get a gross taste in my throat when I’m nervous.”

“Should we be nervous?” I took a piece of gum myself and started to chew quickly, realizing that my jaw had answered my question for me; we should be very nervous. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 88
Mood: Not good

“How long did you stay?” Rebecca threw a pair of socks into her suitcase and looked up from her underwear drawer. “Did you listen to their entire conversation?”

“I had to! I didn’t want Public Safety to know I was sitting there!” Standing by Stacey’s mirror, I poked around her jewelry, moving pairs of pearl earrings and fake diamond bracelets in an attempt to find a ring of mine that had disappeared a few weeks ago. Stacey was big on barrowing without asking.

“Did they talk for a long time?” Closing one drawer and opening another, Rebecca continued to pack her bag. She was leaving early for the Thanksgiving holiday, a fact I had not received well. Three whole days living in a room with Stacey by myself spelled absolute misery.

“The cop said they had heard about a party at the Soccer House the night before, but of course Sasha denied it.” A flash of jade stood out from the mess of cubic zirconium, and I carefully began to untangle my ring from one of Stacey’s cheap necklaces. “He got all mad at the cop. Said they were being unfair…staking the house out and stuff. He said it wasn’t politically correct.” Read More »