One of you may have been the turtle — adding two or three to the bed post every year for the past 10 and the other the hare — wilding out freshmen year in what many describe as a “sexplosion.”
If you’re going to take a stranger home for sex, you must know how to get them out of your apartment the morning after. No one likes a one night stand that awkwardly carries on into the next afternoon. And no, blasting “Linger” by The Cranberries is not a good enough hint.
An awkward person with a cell phone in a social environment is the equivalent to MacGyver having a Swiss Army knife while in a bind.
The thing no one wants you to know is that mania is fun. It’s great. It’s how a lot of us function. It’s how a lot of us succeed.
It means just because they’ve often declared their admiration and respect for Neil Patrick Harris and Ellen DeGeneres, it can mean diddly-squat when it comes to their own flesh and blood being interested in breaking out the rainbow paraphernalia.
Also, there are thousands of different dishes to try, and eating out is exponentially cheaper than trying to cook at home (if your apartment even had a kitchen, which it doesn’t).
This week, I’ll cover Resting Bitchface Syndrome (RBS), a debilitating affliction that affects the facial muscles, causing the afflicted to appear upset, depressed, pissed off, confused, and/or bored despite internal feelings and mood.
Instead of only recognizing the awards, scholarships, and honors bestowed upon graduates by professors, let’s include some student-voted awards, like “Most Undistinguished Track Record of Questionable Hookups” and “Outstanding Achievement in the field of Day Drinking.”
When we’re in public and we spot a fit dude with chiseled abs, a pec-tacular chest and no shirt, it’s easy to say, “What a tool/douche/showoff/shmuck, etc.” But what if that man isn’t built like a Greek god? When a pudgy, doughy-bodied dude goes shirtless, we don’t say a word.
Stop blaming your parents for telling you you’re special. You now know it’s a lie, but you can only blame yourself for continuing to pretend it’s true.
As for extremely jealous, controlling situations — those typically aren’t going to end well, so walking (or even briskly jogging) away isn’t necessarily a bad idea.
When you’re starving for their time and attention, this is an opportunity for sustenance. The scraps and crumbs of their busy schedule will serve as nourishment. Very little, but that’s better than nothing.
Whether you like him in his clean-shaven, hopeful early days, or his scruffy, overgrown, widow-boning, depressed days, Noah is inarguably one of the greatest fictional boyfriends to ever not exist outside of our collective imaginations.
Never touch her. Even when meetings end and she hugs everyone, pretend to have difficulty tying your shoes or looking for your lighter. Notice the way everything you do to avoid suspicion is only raising more.
Expect trust. Without trust, you have nothing. Your partner should trust you completely until you give them a reason otherwise. If they don’t trust you, if they’re already paranoid in the beginning and try to control you, the relationship is doomed. Because it’s not about you. IT’S NEVER ABOUT YOU.
This person can explain electricity, the Pythagorean theorem, and why leap year exists, but the one question to which they have no answer is why they’re single. And they want to know why, goddammit.
I know you must get that a lot, and on good days you probably let it slide. You think, “We’re happy and that’s all that matters,” you think, “Some people are just ignorant, but that’s not our problem.”
