Listen up incoming freshmen: in a few weeks, you’re going to find yourself on a huge college campus full of more hook-up potential than you could ever dream. In the next few years, some of you will have long-term relationships, while many of you will engage in short-term hook-ups.

There are several types of college relationships that have an urban legend-esque feel to them: the sexy school girl and the married professor, the sexy school girl and the teaching assistant, and, of course, the sexy school girl and the resident assistant.

I have never hooked up with one of my RAs, but that’s because I’ve only ever had female RA’s. Still, I know plenty of people who have dabbled in these waters. I’m not here to condone or condemn the practice, because I’ve certainly had my fair share of regrettable trysts, but I am here to lay out some of the baggage that comes with such a hook up.

First of all, consider the fact that even inter-floor mating can lead to year-long awkwardness. If you fear the inevitable walk of shame, imagine the anxiety that comes with the chance that one of your floormates sees you leaving the RA’s room in last night’s bar clothes. Even if you survive the W.O.S, you risk the rumors and reputation — people are more apt to label someone “the girl that banged the RA” than “the chick who nailed whatshisname in 5B.” Even worse, if you can’t handle the tension of a chance meeting on the elevator (or on the way to the showers), you are biting off more than you can chew with by shacking up with your RA.

Your RA is someone you will probably have to turn to throughout the year. He’ll be the one to let you into your room when you are locked out wearing only a towel. This means he also has the master key to your room (not implying anything, just saying). He’s also someone who will have to keep tabs on you throughout the year. He’ll be writing you up for dorm parties, open containers, and that hole in your wall that you forgot to fix before move-out day. This fact alone can open up a brand new can of worms in Relationship Land. 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 »