Arranged marriages don’t seem so bad anymore.

There’s one topic that I’ve been avoiding up until now, and no…it’s not the debate on whether or not women fart. Obviously women do not fart.

I’m not a very outspoken person, and I’m pretty shy around people I don’t know. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, so I generally keep my opinions to myself. However, I have been known to shake things up now and then. In the fourth grade I told a group of friends to “cut the crap” after overhearing them refer to me as “monkey” because my ears stick out and bananas happened to be one of my favorite snacks. Several years later, I said “Fuck you. I hate you” to this girl who I clearly really did not like. I had some balls back in the day. I would never ever, ever say anything like that that to anyone now (at least not to their face). I’m classy as f*** and like my girl Mother Theresa always said, “Life’s too short to be a bitch.” Anyway, today I’m going to shake things up a bit by tapping into my inner Carrie Bradshaw to voice my frustration with my generation’s new philosophy on dating and relationships.

I’m only 22, but I think I’ve lived long enough to know that life in America is not as great as it used to be. This is coming from an optimistic and typically happy person. The economy is on the same trajectory as Nick Cage’s career post National Treasure. Kim Kardashian has 18 million followers on Twitter compared to Bill Gates’ 13.5 million; I’m up to 252 if anyone cares. On top of all that, Breaking Bad is over. So yeah, times are pretty, pretty, pretty shitty (said in Larry David voice).

Over the past decade we’ve made tremendous progress socially, technologically, and medically, however I don’t think our quality of life has really truly changed in a positive way. One aspect of life that has definitely changed for the worse is the way we approach dating and relationships. Back in the day, even as far back as 1995, a man had to work to get the girl. He’d probably need to spend at least two weeks charming her and spending money on her to even get a chance at getting to second base. Now, it’s so much easier to get with a girl now that dating has become obsolete and replaced with hooking up. Immediate gratification is the goal for most guys because it’s too much work to actually get to know a girl.

Dating is like that sad math teacher who has a cat named Albert, wears sweater vests, and uses a phone clip. Whereas Hooking Up is like that young, hot English teacher who has the prettiest blonde hair, listens to The Strokes, wears designer jeans, and lets the class out five minutes early. She may not be the best teacher, but she has the coolness factor that the other teacher lacks.

In this digital age, it was only a matter of time before an app was created to endorse “hook up culture.” The name of this app is Tinder. Tinder actually comes from the root Tin which means “desperate” in Latin. The concept behind Tinder is to set up individuals based on location and whether or not they “like” each other. You are given a picture, tagline, and mutual “likes” and friends. I used Tinder for a month and I have to admit I can see why people use it. Initially, I treated it as a joke. My tagline was “Hit me up if you want to split a pizza or start a life together.” Then I started using it and realized okay, some of these guys seem normal…but then things got weird. Guys asking me for my snapchat name and making inappropriate comments, saying I have a pretty smile. Just really weird stuff. So Tinder was fun while it lasted, but when you’re 22 and using an app to “meet” random strangers, you’ve basically given up on life. I had to get rid of Tinder and try to restore what little faith I had left in the male population and also reclaim my dignity.

Tinders most eligible bachelors.

Tinders most eligible bachelors.

Is Tinder the solution to all of our problems? I can’t think of anything less romantic than meeting someone through Tinder…maybe meeting at an Arby’s or a Trailer Park Convention, or Shriver Center for all you Miami folk. But sadly, an app like Tinder actually makes sense considering the fact that all we ever do is look at our phones all day.

Finally, if you are currently in a relationship and things are going well, congrats! As for the rest of you, specifically the fine young gentlemen out there, the offer of splitting a pizza or starting a life together still stands. Txt me. 847-542-3756.

I've mastered the "seduce the camera" look

I’ve mastered the “seduce the camera” look.


It’s Finally Here. Homecoming 2013.

Hide your kids, hide your wife, hide your booze because this weekend Oxford, Ohio, Cornfield capital of the world, is invaded by restless and thirsty alumni. Rain or shine, kegs will be tapped, Instagrams uploaded, paychecks blown and handles thrown. And of course pizza (Will’s Pizza if you know what’s good for you) will be consumed in disgusting quantities.

After over five painfully long months functioning as a real person in what I now call “The Real World,” I have never been more ready to return to my Alma Mater, Miami University, for Homecoming Weekend. I am beyond excited to finally be among fellow Redhawks: my former housemates (shoutout to the ladies of 114 Tallawanda aka Hut Hut), sorority sisters (whatup Pi Phi), “class friends,” former lovers, President Hodge, and all my other homies for a weekend of fun and some moderate drinking.

More than anything, I think this weekend will really solidify the fact that yes, the diploma sitting in my room is not a fake, and it’s time to accept life as an adult. Let’s have a moment of silence for College Christina and the days of sleeping in until 11 (sometimes 12 if I’m really struggling), eating pizza at 3 AM, then waking up 6 hours later and eating the same pizza for breakfast. RIP to the days of wearing Greek letters, and the shameless dance floor make outs. Those days are long gone, but as the saying goes, “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened.” Thanks, whoever said that. It’s helped me through a lot of hard times.

So far, my life as an adult has been painstakingly dull compared to my life as a college student. For instance, last weekend I spent Saturday trying on work trousers at Banana Republic and organizing my computer desktop into folders. Up until three months ago I couldn’t distinguish a trouser from a slack. Now, I own both styles and have a Banana Republic rewards card. And no, to answer the question on all of your minds, my slacks will not be coming with me to Oxford. Two days from now I will be on my way to Oxford, and the only thing keeping me from having a successful homecoming weekend is this really ugly zit that just conveniently set up camp on my face. I thought I was done getting pimples, but it looks like I’ll be one of the lucky ones who gets adult acne.

In the spirit of homecoming, I thought I’d share some pictures from my time at Miami University. Love and Honor, baby. Love and Honor.

One of the happiest and saddest days of my life.

One of the happiest and saddest days of my life.

Pie Burger Fries throwing up the anchor

Pie Burger Fries throwing up the anchor.

Golden Keg 2012...didn't win but definitely had the best shirts.

Golden Keg 2012…didn’t win but definitely had the best shirts.

Bored of Education & Hut Hut sharing a moment on a disgusting couch on one of the last days as neighbors.

Bored of Education & Hut Hut sharing a special moment on a filthy couch on one of the last days as neighbors.


An Ode To New Trier Dances

New Trier High School is synonymous with superiority. From academics, to athletics, to our Grammy-winning Fine Arts division, New Trier consistently pumps out full-time beauties with each graduating class. Aside from academics and extracurricular activities, NT is known for throwing the most over the top dances, and I think any one of my classmates can attest to this statement. At NT football games the student section can be heard loudly chanting “We don’t mess around, HEY!” The same goes for our dances: We Don’t Mess Around. I’m going to talk about Turnabout as this is the one dance I have the most experience with. Turnabout takes place every February and is considered a much bigger deal than Homecoming due to the fact that the girls are the ones planning it.

There’s always that one girl who claims her date two-and-a-half months in advance. This girl can usually be described as high-sprung and overly anxious. No one likes her. After her, the rest follow suit because if you wait too long, you might find yourself dateless and without any prospects. This year, to help the people without dates, a couple of male students created a website called “The Dance Match” which allows students to create a profile, and rank potential dates. Dates are matched when one person puts down another person and that other person also puts them down on their list. It’s actually a good idea…but it also concerns me. Can kids not do anything without the help of a computer these days?

Alright, back to the subject.

Okay, great. So you’ve decided who you are taking…that’s like half of it, right? Nope. Then you have to seal the deal by making sure that the guy knows that you are going to ask him AKA he can’t say yes to anyone else. Of course, a couple weeks before the dance you’ll ask him in a more elaborate way, either in a very public and embarrassing manner or in a romantic and special way complete with candles and an acoustic John Mayer song(barf). He will try to act surprised and happy, and you might even embrace in an awkward hug.

Now that you’ve secured a date, it’s time to plan out the details of the night, and with two months until the big dance, there is plenty of time for shit to go down: breakups, guys wanting to go with another, less crazy girl, and girls wanting to go with a different guy. Talk of this dance will dominate almost every conversation over the next two months. This aspect of girls will never change: we love to talk about parties – talking about a party brings me more joy than the party itself. I should really try to change this about myself.

The groups are formed, the theme is chosen, and transportation, dining, and location of pictures is decided. I have been part of a group of six, up to a group of 22 couples. Smaller groups are the way to go in most cases because more people equates to more drama.

Choosing the theme is the most fun part of planning and also the most debated. You always want to come up with a theme that will trump everyone else’s theme. If someone suggested “Disney characters” their opinion from that point forward would be disregarded. Some of my favorite themes include: Biker Chicks and Cyclists, The 90s, Las Vegas, Redneck/Nascar hicks, Beerfest, and Almost Famous. I was a big fan of the tradition of dressing in theme because when you’re all dressed up in a suit or nice dress you feel like you have to act how you look: mature and classy. But when you’re wearing a Halloween costume it is acceptable (and expected) to act like a complete fool. I hope the tradition of themed dances at NT carries on forever, because it truly is a beautiful thing.

And lest I forget the most important part: the after party. The after party can make or break a dance and is usually hosted by the kid with the most laid back parents of the group, which is funny because I hosted my senior prom after party. My parents are chill but definitely not “underage drinking under our supervision” chill. My after party was a lot tamer than the other after parties I had been to. Half of my group played guitar hero the whole time and there was a large supply of snacks. So basically my prom after party resembled something like what a boy’s tenth birthday might look like.

So there you have it. All the components of an NT dance. Trevians for life. Bleed blue and green.