I used to joke that I could measure the amount of fun I had at a party by how many bruises I woke up with the next day. I’m not trying to sound sadistic, but I bruise easily and am incredibly clumsy; I party hard, and I fall even harder. I haven’t even been too out of control in the past few weeks, yet my legs are still littered with black and blue marks that seem to have appeared out of nowhere.

I’ve seen a lot of drunken injuries in my day. Some are funny; some not so much. You really shouldn’t need to wear hard hats or protective armor to a party, so here’s a brief list of some potentially painful injuries, and how to avoid them.

Injury: Cigarette burns.
Avoid them by: Not drunkenly smoking your cigs all the way through the band; not giving someone with a lit cigarette your hand; not putting the wrong side of your lit cigarette into your mouth.

Injury: First, second, or third degree burns.
Avoid them by: Being conscious of where the bonfire pit is at a keg party on a cool autumn night; not attempting to walk through said pit in an effort to reunite with your friends after peeing in the woods.

Injury: Stitches on your scalp.
Avoid them by: Not jumping up and down on your lofted bed and cracking your head open on the ceiling; not falling out of a lofted bed after sloppy, drunken, sex, and cracking your head open on your f*ck buddy’s desk.

Injury: A shiner the color of an eggplant.
Avoid it by: Not chugging straight Bacardi and proceeding to faceplant your nightstand. These actions may or may not also have a negative effect on the nightstand, which may or may not break apart from the impact of your face. Read More »

As we approach August, we may have started to take summer vacay for granted. In the dog days of summer, it’s easy to sleep until 2 p.m., get caught up on Maury, and not realize we still have our PJs on until it’s time to go back to bed. But with the countdown to Fall Semester ticking fast, it’s important to make the most of every spare minute. Whether you’re working your ass off or dedicated to being a lazy bum until a full courseload kicks back in, it’s time to get in gear and create some glorious summer memories.

1. Take a roadtrip. Sure, gas prices are skyrocketing, but you’re only young once, right? And once you’re shackled into a nine-to-five, you’re going to crave the spontaneity that’s currently yours for the taking. I’m a self-professed workaholic, but even I’ve been known to squeeze in a few quality roadtrips between May and August each year. One summer, I took a fourteen-hour drive to Ohio with two girls from work I barely knew, for the birthday party of one of my brother’s grad school friends. And no, my brother didn’t go. So, three random girls showed up at a party in the boondocks (aka Wooster), and promptly put on our party shoes. Liquor flowed, regrettable hook-ups were had, and the girls and I totally bonded over the experience. Even if you can only spare one day, find a town you’ve never been to before, and head out to explore. You never know what adventures might arise. 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 »

So, it’s finals, which means I probably shouldn’t have been out partying all weekend, but nonetheless, here I am today, haggard, slightly bruised and wildly unprepared for my two exams and three papers due this week. However, I once took a course in cultural anthropology, so I consider it my academic duty to go to parties, observe the social interactions of other youths and report them back to the world.

Thus, I present to you my scholarly dissection of the sexual politics of the keg. This past Friday, I went to my friend’s birthday party. Since I knew the host of the party, I considered myself a VIP and budged the keg line, edging out frat boys in pastel-colored shorts and backwards caps to stake my claim. Once I reached the keg, I started to do what I needed to do when Dude #1 called me out. “HEY!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing? Let me do it for you.”

Um. Okay. I know I may look young and weak, but as a scholar I at least know how to pump a keg. I may not be an engineering major like Dude #1, but come on, it’s like buttering bread. Read More »