[It doesn’t matter what school you go to, what state it is in, how big it is, whether it is public or private, all girls or coed…there are experiences that all college students share. No matter how crazy you think your personal situation is, it is not just you.

So, let’s bring it all out in the open. Right here. Because you are not alone - we’ve all been there before.]

The Awkward Call:

You wake up to the sunlight shining into your eyes. You open them and – whoa – the killer hangover sets in. Headache, nausea and a mouth filled with cotton. And then you roll over to find a man lying next to you.

And the entire evening comes flooding back: the drinks, the sloppy make out sesh in the kitchen of the bar, the striptease in the cab.

You lift the covers; yup, completely naked. Your bedmate stirs, opens his eyes and smiles at you. “Phew,” you think to yourself. “He’s pretty cute.” You begin the usual morning-after conversation – hangovers, “what the hell did I drink last night”s, and other niceties – before he starts rubbing your back.

You know where this is leading, but before things start heading there you need to brush that so-drunk-I-smoked- a-cigarette taste out of your mouth.

And then the phone rings. Your rifle through the pile of jeans and underwear on the floor and flip it open before you realize who it is: your grandma. Read More »

There comes a time in every college student’s academic career (usually at any point when said student lives off campus) when a decision of the utmost importance must be made: To go to the library, or not to go to the library?

You will agonizingly weigh pros against cons: “I’ll focus so much more out of my comfort zone”/”But what if that guy who sings along with his iPod sits next to me?”, “I’ll have access to all of the books I might need”/ “But WHERE am I going to park?”, “I’ll escape my roommate’s detailed story about last night’s hookup.”/ “But I might have to listen to the same story if I sit next to an obnoxious group of girls.”

You might make the decision, ultimately, to pack your belongings for the day or evening and reluctantly trudge to that haven of Starbucks, guilty Facebooking and stress ridden speed-reading. Or you might opt to keep your PJ clothed butt right where. it. is — sometimes the best decision. When you need to get studying done, but don’t have time or patience to commute to your campus library, just remember these helpful hints and you’ll be on your way to an A++ (oh yeah, they give those. To SPECIAL PEOPLE). Read More »

Britney Spears will be back at the VMA’s.

If his abs and medals aren’t enough, here is yet another reason to love Michael Phelps.

Blame Daniel Radcliffe and his love of nudity for the delay in Harry Potter flicks.

Being Tom Cruise’s daughter has not dampened her cuteness.

There is only one person Kanye West loves more than himself…and it’s Scarlet Johansson?

John Mayer - I think I love him even more.

Did you know that women spend 3,267 hours getting ready to go out?!

How to be a good hookup.

Christmas in August?

Question: People really dress like this? Answer: Ew, yes.

You thought the Chinese were bad? Australian mayor picks on “ugly ducklings“.

The walk of shame. The stride of pride. The slut strut.

Whatever you want to call it, we’ve all been there; Bra in the bag, a single sock, mascara running down the face, ducking behind buses and bushes trying not to be seen. It is a right of passage for many college students who – while embarrassed on the actual walk – take pride in the steps it took them to get there.

Good or bad, the Walk of Shame has become so common (even celebrated!) these days that designers are basing their new collections on it and companies creating ads around it.

We asked our writers to share some of their favorite Walk o’ Shame tales. Some made us laugh; others made us cringe. Most, though, made us wish we could have been there to witness the glory.

Kari - Florida State: My friend woke up in the chapter room of the fraternity house that threw an ENORMOUS lingerie party the night before, was too groggy/ still drunk to find her car, so she walked home instead. The street hosts about 5,984 different churches, so my lucky friend strolled past a bevy of proper southern ladies in their Sunday best (and in her skimpy Saturday night naughtiest).

Elizabeth - Baruch College: Some jeans of mine had a rip along the backside. The fella removing my pants managed to literally rip the pants off, leaving denim…underwear, basically. The only pants he had to lend me the next day were wind pants…with my heeled cowboy boots. They were too long for me and tripped me on the sidewalk on the way out. I fell on my face and his wind pants were bloody. What a walk of shame. He didn’t want the pants back. Go figure. Read More »

In college, many of my close friends were perfectly fine with booty calling a guy or being a guy’s booty call. Their attitude was if you can handle having no-strings-attached sex and are safe about it, then hey, why not go for it?!

While I admired their liberal outlook, I didn’t really have an opinion of my own as I, for the most part, wasn’t really booty calling guys or being their booty call. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t as if I didn’t hook-up with guys, I did, but I always found myself in situations where no booty call was necessary. Most of the time, the guy I would be taking home with me that night was right next to me.

Really, it hadn’t been until recently, while living in New York, that I’d gotten my first foray into world of booty calls. At a Christmas party I hit it off with a blonde, blue-eyed cutie and ever since then we’ve exchanged numerous flirtatious text messages. Sure, many hinted at action between the sheets, but while risqué, nothing had ever come of them. Until Saturday night.

At around 2:30 am, just when I was about to go to bed I get a text message from him, “I want to see you.” Ah, the ever notorious booty call, or in this case, text message. Even though I wanted to have sex and knew I could have a safe, uncomplicated experience with him, I debated for a few minutes whether I should even respond. While I could hear my friends in my mind telling me to “go for it” I wondered if texting him back and inviting him over to my place would make me a slut. Read More »

When I stepped onto my college campus fresh-off-the-boat (or FOB, as they call it) from some-obscure-country that I call home, I had no idea of the social niceties of dating in the states; my encounter with the opposite gender consisted of couple of weeks with a classmate in high school, who thought that drawstring shorts were most fashionable when paired with topsiders and gold jewelry.Needless to say, we broke up when I decided that the smell of his pineapple scented hair gel was overpowering the amorous odor of hamburgers and onion rings from burger king, which was our usual joint.

My freshman naivete wasn’t helped by the fact that I had that desperate urge to become the “IT” girl, something I had never been able to do in high school. I had lost 20 lbs. over the summer in anticipation that I would rise to a new social status at my east coast school, stocked my wardrobe with skin tight jeans and bling-encrusted baby Ts and headed to college.

So when I didn’t immediately become the most popular girl on campus, I was a little surprised. And taken aback. Moreover, my pre-college fantasies of hooking up with hot blonde-haired guys sporting surfer bodies wasn’t quite satisfied by the fact that NO ONE in the opposite gender seemed to want to talk to me. But I wasn’t giving up: I was willing to give it another shot two weeks later…and another one another two weeks later…but no action.

I then appealed to a friend who I shall call Courtney. Court listened to my problems, nodding along and making the occasional “uh-huh” as she listened to my ranting about guys not liking me and not being popular enough. At the end of my litany, she spoke a couple of words that seemed to make absolutely no sense at all.

“Honey…that’s because you’re Asian.” Read More »

So I went on a date. Goooo me! My grandma would be so proud. “Just get out there” she says. And get out there I did.

Everything went well, we talked prior to meeting up and we emailed on a pretty frequent basis. And much to my surprise there was nothing awkward about it. In fact, it was all oddly comfortable.

None of that boring history of “this is every insignificant detail of my childhood that you don’t really care about, but I’m just going to tell you because we have nothing better to discuss and I hope it gets more exciting from here”. But rather, I felt as if I was schmoozing with an old friend. This could be something really good, I thought.

And suddenly, this first date with a stranger thing was looking a whole lot more promising.

Even the date itself went smoothly and based from my friend’s horror stories and some of my far from fun past experiences, I was more than thrilled not to have to execute my pre-arranged escape plan. We talked for two hours and nothing about it was awkward (thank you, lord–I owe you one)

In fact, it was the opposite. I clearly was so at ease that I proceeded to talk about my Teddy Bear, Snuggles, who I still sleep and travel with. (Normal, I am not).

So naturally, one would think “Success! When are we going out next?” (And my grandma, bless her little foreign heart, would start shopping for a dress). Read More »

A friend of mine began dating a girl. And by “began” I mean, slept with her the day they met.

Since then, he has been seeing this girl on a daily basis. He likes hanging out with her and he loves the sex. He insists that she is not his girlfriend, yet the amount of time they spend together tells a different story. A story that:

1) I am sure his lady friend is reading

2) makes it seem like this little relationship is turning into something more serious.

Yet, as he tells me, he doesn’t want a girlfriend. And “it is too early to have the relationship conversation, anyway. We are just having fun.”

I started thinking about his situation – how I would feel if I were him, if I were her, and just about the whole dating thing in general.

Dating for our generation is clearly a lot different than when our parents did it. Way back when, in the days when they were young, dating was a fairly structured process: boy eyed girl, boy asked girl on date, boy met parents, boy and girl went on a few more dates, boy formally asked girl to be his girlfriend, boy gave girl pin/sweater, boy and girl were officially a couple and held hands (and sometimes necked). Read More »