I was the only roommate who had gone out that night, and there was evidence that I didn’t come home alone.

There had been a 4 AM pizza purchase, the only remnant being the box. Maybe a crumb or two. And my purse sitting next to the mess.

On weekends, the diet gets thrown aside and I accept that I am weak. I’m what is described in Mean Girls as one of the “girls who eat their feelings.” Unfortunately, with college, the feeling that got a significant amount of play was “tipsy”, and with said buzz came a slew of delicious calories I’d only remember halfway into the next day.

The biggest regret of the drinking was (almost always) what I’d eaten. I try to justify the binge eating by saying it’s a far better alternative to, say, waking up next to a random.

When I’m coming home from the bar, it’s as though any self control I’ve ever had is on vacation and any restaurant open after last call is a free-for-all. You come home, and you have just enough energy to stay up for a bit, long enough for a slice or an order of nachos. You wake up realizing that you’ve blown through your budget of saved calories and your skinny jeans are going to stay in their drawer a little longer than expected.

So to prevent post-bar disasters, here are a few tricks that can help keep you in check: Read More »