This entry was originally posted on CollegeCandy.com

Today, July 13th, is “Embrace Your Geek Day.” Here are the top 10 totally embraceable things that we geek out for. And we’re not ashamed to admit it. Online.

10. Harry Potter
Ugh, is there anything sexier than a wizard in glasses? I literally screamed when I saw the preview for “The Half Blood Prince” in theaters.

9. Arrested Development
Seriously, I know every single line to this show. Points if you can do every family member’s imitation of a chicken. (Yeah, I can do that too.)

8. Twilight
Okay, admittedly, I’m not a twi-tard, err, I mean “twi-hard,” but I can’t resist drooling over Robert Pattinson’s perfect hair.

7. Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Joss Whedon is a God. Enough. Said.

6. Anything and everything Apple
iPhone, MacBook, iPod. I want it all. I’m pretty sure there’s an app for that.

5. The Sims
Devastatingly addictive. Who doesn’t love building houses, creating lookalikes of your friends and neighbors, and – oh my god I’ve spent four hours straight on this game.

4. Seth Green
And all of his endeavors. Robot Chicken anyone?

3. GeekStuff4U
I don’t know what this is or what it does, but I approve.

2. Hulu.com
Addictive and full of the best of the best things to geek out to. Missed Andy Samberg’s latest Digital Short? Hulu that sh*t.

1. BO. BURNHAM.
Please, please, please, please marry me.

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

As I was exploring the joys of StumbleUpon with a good guy friend of mine, I happened upon this site: the 21 ways to be a gentlemen.

Seriously, click that link and read it. Then join me as I ask, “Um, really?” The list is chock full of some pretty asinine and totally dated characteristics of a “gentleman.”

A gentleman eats the garnish on his dinner plate if he so desires? Waits until a lady at the table lifts her fork before he takes his first bite?

Yeah, I don’t think so.

I’ve decided to revamp this list of 21 ways to be a gentleman, geared toward your typical college bro. Chivalry might be dead and douche bags abound on every campus, but these 21 rules shouldn’t be too hard to follow.

1. Always offer to pay for drinks, even if you know she’ll refuse.
2. Never layer collared shirts. Even more importantly, keep those collars down.
3. Don’t blow her off for video games. Real sports games? Acceptable with a forewarning. Impromptu Madden tournament? Not so much.
4. Even if her best friend is a perfect 10 smoke show? Don’t let on that you think so. Ogle her on Facebook instead.
5. Don’t text at dinner.
6. Open doors. Pull out chairs. Let her order first. Simple manners.
7. Don’t make her walk of shame home at 4 AM, shoeless and in a ridiculous outfit. Even worse if it’s a slutty Halloween costume. Would you like to be traipsing home in the wee hours wearing nothing but a slutty school girl kilt and tank top after getting tossed out of some dude’s bunkbed? Not. Cool.
8. Let her watch “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” or whatever girly show she likes without mocking it the entire way through. Bonus points for putting it on your DVR.
9. No, she doesn’t look fat in that dress. Yes, even if she does.
10. Do not ever, EVER push her head or hand downtown.
11. Don’t be ashamed of her in front of your buddies, even if she’s sipping wine coolers instead of Bud Light when you’re all hanging out.
12. Even if you don’t care, ask her about family/friends/shopping excursion. You’ll make her smile, guaranteed.
13. Farting isn’t funny, but occasionally tolerable. Dutch ovening? Never acceptable.
14. Please warn her before you bust. Surprises in the form of gifts are nice, but not so much when they are hot sticky ones in her eye.
15. Once in a while, suggest she wears something that you like to see her in. She’ll be impressed and flattered by the compliment, provided you’re not asking her to wear lingerie out on the town.
16. Plan something. Anything. Even just a dinner and a movie. Pull some weight in the social planning, even if it’s just once in a while.
17. If she, you know, for lack of a better term, slobs on your knob (thank you 3 6 Mafia), return the favor please! Unless she’s not a fan, in which case, prove to her that she should be one.
18. Messed up? Apologies are always better with chocolate.
19. Kiss her on the cheek in public once in a while. A little PDA isn’t awful and reminds her how much you care about her. Just no sloppy make outs. That’s just gross.
20. Keep your word. Don’t say things you don’t mean. If you promise something, stick to it.
21. No socks with sandals. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

What would you like added to the list? Anything dudes can do to step it up to gentlemen status nowadays?

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

This entry was originally posted on CollegeCandy.com

Letterman and Palin’s tiff over his hilarious and, okay, slightly horrible and sexist comments, had the media’s focus back on our favorite Alaskan governor: Mrs. Sarah Palin. Finally – after a lot of back, forth and all around – the two kissed and made up and all is right with the late night funnyman and ex-candidate for VP, who, shocker, has a sense of humor?

Inspired by the feud and by Letterman’s classic “Top Ten” format, I’ve decided to do a Weekly Ten on whatever the presses and our readers are buzzing about. Late Night, CollegeCandy style. Now even though Palin jokes are so last fall, as a tribute to both Dave and Ms. Palin, I’m going to kick off the “Weekly Ten” with the Top Ten reasons I wish Sarah Palin was my Mommy. Apologies to my own mommy, the cougar version of Barack Girl. Still love you, mom!

10. Never ending shades of lipstick to borrow!
Warning: even with perfect application, these cosmetics may still make you a pig.

9. MILF!
And GILF! Maybe she can give pointers on how to age gracefully. Provided you don’t care about anything other than looking fly in glasses and a red skirt suit.

8. Exotic digs.
I mean, this is just a gimme: she can see Russia from her house.

7. Homegirl can bust a rhyme
Oh wait, that’s Amy Poehler. Another point for cool SNL moms.

6. Never ending supply of skirt suits!
Also a bonus if you want to be a flight attendant. Notice how I didn’t say slutty. Take note, David.

5. You’d get to hang out with the McCains.
Screw the Republican party – try the McCain party. You betcha that family just knows how to party, even if John McCain can’t exactly put his hands in the air and wave them around like he just don’t care anymore.

4. People might mistake her for Tina Fey.
Who’d actually be a cool mom. Plus, maybe a connection to Jimmy Fallon? Yum.

3. She’s an expert on the “bump-it”
Really, she’s only second to Winehouse. Does anyone actually own one of these things?

2. Totally relaxed about birth control methods.
Thanks Bristol, but I’ll be making the boyf squeeze into Trojans.

1. Fresh Moose Stew!
Sure beats meatloaf.

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

There’s a new plague making its way across college campuses from coast to coast. Take one step into your local incorporated coffee shop, vegan restaurant, Urban Outfitters or American Apparel store and you will be afflicted. (Or blinded by all the neon spandex and overwhelming scent of cigarettes.)

I’m talking, of course, about hipsters.

Don’t know what I’m talking about? Don’t worry’ they’ve even got a Wikipedia page.

I don’t truly despise these people. In fact, some are my dear friends. However, the ones that aren’t my friends are becoming an issue – a taking-all-the-tables-at-my-favorite-coffee-shop issue – and here’s my top 10 reasons that they piss me off. Obviously, not all apply. And obviously there are many, many more.

1. OHMYGOD just because I don’t wear weird clothes doesn’t mean I don’t like good music, too.
Hipsters pride themselves on liking the most unique, underground indie music. And if they like something outside that realm? Well, they like it “ironically.” In fact, I’m pretty sure their entire subculture is based on irony. (Editor’s Note: Maybe Alanis Morisette started the hipster movement?!) They automatically assume if someone is in a polo shirt that their music taste only expands as far as Dave Matthews and OAR. WRONG. Not everyone wears their music taste on their American Apparel sleeves. Get. Real. Check my last.fm; I listen to just as much Arcade Fire as you do and my mom was at Pavement concerts when you were in diapers.

2. The corporations you support are just as bad as the ones you hate.
So, you enjoy taking over Urban Outfitters? Well guess what – UO supported Proposition 8, the recently passed proposition that banned same sex marriage. Urban is owned by the most anti-gay bigot ever. Maybe you should think twice before you go heading over there for your next ironic tee and skinny jeans.

3. Life’s tough. Get a helmet.
Adorn the helmet with Bon Iver stickers. Do what you must, just stop bitching and moaning and sucking down Parliament Lights and PBR cans like it’s your job. You’ve got a trust fund, you unitard-wearing complainer.

4. Hypocritical much?
So, you spend your time hating on people for being judgmental a-holes? While you sit there and judge them based on the fact that they’re wearing mainstream clothing and maybe enjoy rap music? I don’t think that frat boy gives a crap about your life, so why do you care how he lives his?

5. Sports are not the anti-christ.
I like basketball. It’s fun to cheer for things (I know. Enthusiasm. Scary.) and maybe you should try watching it. Just because a lot of people love it doesn’t mean it sucks.

6. People eat animals. They taste real good.
Don’t tell me how my burger came to be. Veganism is your choice, not mine. Do I tell you how your lungs are turning black when you smoke? No. Do I not-so-politely inform you that your skinny jeans are permanently damaging your nerves? Nopers. Don’t remind me that my sandwich was once a living thing.

7. It’s okay to like things without being ironic.
I’d love to meet a hipster that can openly admit that they un-ironically enjoy Britney Spears or Fall Out Boy. Even just a couple songs. Come on! It’s catchy! I’m not judging you!

8. Starbucks is tasty. Organic coffee tastes funky.
Enough said. Maybe it’s overpriced, but oh my god, I have never had a decent frappucino at an indie coffee shop. Side note: your indie coffee shop is most likely a franchise, too!

9. PBR is gross.
Enough. Said.

10. Smile.
Sunshine, I don’t care what you’re wearing, but for the love of spandex and Ray-Bans, can you please brighten someone’s day and smile? Scowling is super unbecoming.

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

They love their daughters, no matter what. Basically, I’ve put my dad through hell and back, and I’m well-deserved to be blamed for his heart problems. My dad is the father of two girls, both in college. Despite all we’ve put him through – from going through private education, “borrowing” the credit card, bringing home boys with less than ideal traits, throwing a two hundred person rager when left alone with the house, accidentally drunk dialing him, and subjecting him to The Hills and Gossip Girl every Monday night – he still totally loves me. And it takes a lot.

Dads protect their little girls from everything. Though he never pulled out his shotgun and cleaned it in front of any of my potential suitors, my dad has done whatever he could to protect me from a broken heart. And broken bones. And scary boogey men. He’s kept me safe and I love him for it.

When I was younger, my family moved around a lot. I mean, A LOT. I moved to a new state about every two years, and even though I adapted fairly quickly to my new schools, I would occasionally get very anxious in the evening about my upcoming day at school and the potential monsters under my bed and in my closet. After thoroughly scoping out my room for any bad guys, my dad would promise me every night, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, because today is the day you worried about yesterday.” Kind of corny, but it help me feel safe and reassured and it’s a phrase that still protects me to this day.

Dads guide their kids through life. Without dad, I’d never learn how to throw a baseball, balance a checkbook (still working on that one), appreciate a good classic comedy, do laundry, or make the best French toast in the universe. Seriously, you should try it. So. Good.

My dad is the coolest. He knows the best shows on television, gets me tickets to all my favorite sporting events, and he still manages to take me and my friends and family on the bombest vacations every spring break and summer. Helloooo, Miami! Alright, so maybe his “cool factor” doesn’t exactly meet up with everyone’s standards, but I think it’s amazing that he hasn’t missed a single episode of David Letterman in, like, 100 years, and can quote every Mel Brooks’ movie. I’m pretty sure I was the only little girl in grade school who was unknowingly repeating lines from “Blazing Saddles” and I think that’s pretty cool.

No matter what I do, dad can’t stay mad at me. He’s always by my side, cheering me on and challenging my every decision. Oh, and when I ask for $10, he’s always giving it to me.

I love you daddy; here’s to the most deserved holiday of the year! Now go shower your dads in ties and pens, take them to brunch, and let them golf all damn day.

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

Dear Drunk Girl,

Hi sweetie. Long time no see. I take that back. I saw you last Friday. Same place, same hazy look in your eyes, different black dress that falls down to expose your bra. This one doesn’t have vomit on it… yet! Congratulations.

As much as going out and drinking in college is an integral part of your experience, I don’t think you serenading a fraternity with “Like a Virgin” into your half-empty Smirnoff handle (your makeshift microphone) while balancing on a coffee table is necessarily the right way to spend your Tuesday night.

You were very stylish at the beginning of the night. Your dress hung perfectly, eyelashes were curled, hair was straightened, heels were spotless and your jewelry matched. However, after those three, four or five shots of Patron? That sexy little dress you picked up at the Saks sale is riding up and showing off your embarrassing leopard print boy shorts. The mascara you so diligently applied is now running down your face after your tearful breakdown about how much you “love everyone sooooo much” and “like, can’t wait to have you all as my bridesmaids.” You seem to have more hair in your face than in your ponytail and one of your high heels is nowhere to be found. Check yourself, honey.

Is that pimply beast of a guy you’re making out with in front of everyone your boyfriend? Hope not, because you just made out with his best friend four minutes ago when you assaulted him against the beer pong table. Yes, beer pong winner is impressive, but it’s not like he just saved a child from a fire. Speaking of, can we talk about your beer pong game? It’s called beer pong for a reason. Not “mass amounts of vodka and a splash of cranberry” pong. When you’ve reached that point where hard liquor in the beer pong cups seems like a good idea, you’ve gone too far.

No, no one wants to split a supreme pizza with you, go to the strip club “just for fun,” drunk dial the Dean’s office or add a rule in any drinking game that involves getting naked. Drunk girl, it’s the middle of the week and don’t you have a final tomorrow? And stop yelling at the poor guy who made your drink – there is plenty of vodka in there and not his fault that you just can’t TASTE it anymore.

I love you, drunk girl. Because, sometimes, I am you. But even when I’m not, I still adore you because I have a great time making fun of you and drawing penises all over you when you pass out on the floor of some random living room amidst a Tila Tequila marathon.

XOXO,
Melanie

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

Things ended when he moved out to L.A. after graduation, but we kept in touch online and through Facebook ever since.

So when I clicked on my Facebook event notification and saw that he’d be back in town in a couple months, my first instinct was to accept the invite to the party in his honor.

That is, until I saw the Facebook wall.

One of his buddies, whom I’ve never met in my life, wrote on the wall: “Hey Blake, you should call that Melanie chick. That alcoholic nympho will probably get so excited she’ll bust a clasp on her straight jacket.”

Wow. What?!

Directly following Doucheface’s comment, Blake responded with a nice “hahahaha.”

Shocked, embarrassed and angry, I confronted Blake about the whole thing. He fed me some baloney about his friend “taking stories and blowing them out of proportion” and brushed me off like it was no big deal. I was not amused. I mean, this was not some private issue; my name was being slandered in a very public place.

I waited a couple days to see if Blake would delete the comment. He didn’t.
Naturally, I declined the invite to this Mel-bashing soiree.

The sad thing is, this isn’t the first time I’ve been Facebook blasted. I’ve seen terrible comments about me on friends’ walls as well. Do these people think I’m not going to see it? Or are they too afraid to talk sh*t to me in person? Why would anyone think it is OK to use Facebook as a sh*t talking battle ground?

I get that these Facebook blasters are fugly, useless degenerates and not particularly worth my time, but what really irks me is the fact that these rude insults about me are floating around on the internet for everyone to see and I have no way to stop it. No way to defend myself. I’m being bullied and I can’t fight back.

Have any of you ever been a victim of Facebook hate? Share your stories below.

Melanie currently interning in NYC, taking full advantage of all margarita specials and those blonde summer boys. Stalk her on Twitter: @tinkermellie

I visited my AT&T store, picked up the new Bold and immediately had issues. I was getting up to 150 text messages in a minute due to some virus. I went back, replaced it twice, with the same issue. I finally was so aggravated, one of the employers was able to convince me to buy an iPhone. My whole world was turned upside down. No one even knew who I was anymore.

Now, three iPhones later… they break easily… I’ve come to terms with the thing, only for the apps. So here it is, my top 10 apps.

1.    SolFree Solitaire
I immediately have an addiction. Like, a serious problem. According to the app, I’ve spent a collective twenty three hours on solitaire. I’m slightly embarrassed.

2.    TwitterFon
Twitter. On your phone. Enough said.

3.    Facebook
As if I wasn’t addicted enough, now I can get my news feed whenever and wherever I want it. Not to mention, I can quickly detag humiliating pictures of me from my weekend escapades. I don’t even remember doing that keg stand at the hockey party.

4.    Word Warp
If you love Text Twist, you’ll adore Word Warp. Fantastic and it teaches you new words, so, educational…?

5.    FML
I love reading FML because it makes me feel better about my messy mess of a life. Get it on your iPhone for a pick me up any time of the day!

6.    Urbanspoon
Constantly wondering where to eat? Want to eat on the cheap and only want breakfast food? Yeah, there’s an app for that. It rules.

7.    Brick FREE
A tribute to my blackberry, the iPhone’s version of BrickBreaker. Thank you!

8.    Copter
Anyone remember this addictive online game from circa 1999?

9.    Last.fm
I like this better than Pandora, it’s a personalized radio station right in your phone. Very nice.

10.    VoiceNotes
Great for recording lectures, interviews and your friends’ drunken rants.

So that’s my top ten! Not exactly the most efficient apps, but definitely a lot of fun. What are some of your favorites? I only wish they had an app to delete embarrassing drunk texts right before you send them.

I’ve lived with these two for about six months now, and here’s my rundown of living with guys, should you ever be considering.

The Good: They’ll tell you when you look terrible, even when you don’t want to hear it.

How many times have you had a girlfriend make a puking noise when you ask her what she thinks of your mystic tan and then reply, “You look like a freaking oompa-loompa.” Boys are brutally honest about everything, which leads me to

The Bad: They’ll tell you everything, even when you don’t want to hear it.

If you plan on living with boys, you better toughen up. I’ve had my roommate tell me “You’d be totally smoking hot if you just lost a little weight,” make fun of every aspect of my being, my major, my clothing choices, every tv show I watch, and even the boys I hook up with. I’ve learned to become less sensitive and to give it right back, boys are brutal!

The Good: They know food.

Oh boy, do they know food. I have one roommate who should have his own cooking show and another who keeps the apartment fully stocked with every snack food known to mankind. There’s never a lack of something to munch on and most likely, boys will be quick to go in on a meal or snack at any time. That is, if you promise to do the dishes.

The Bad: They’re freaking gross.

Gross doesn’t even begin to cover it. My roommates could care less if there’s sixteen completely full garbage bags lying around the kitchen. The sink has somehow become a used solo cup depository. The bathroom… well, I don’t even want to get into it. Let’s just say I reached the point where I don’t mind shelling out forty dollars every other week for a maid. Yes, I live in a three bedroom apartment in college. Yes, I have a maid. You try cleaning up after two twenty one year old boys and their entourage. Easier said than done.

On the subject of gross, the cleanliness is only the tip of the iceberg. Prepare yourself for farts that you would not believe, detailed descriptions of dumps they’ve taken and more penis jokes than you’d ever want to hear over the course of a lifetime. Yuck.

The Good: The brothers you never had.
I love my roommates because they’ve become the brothers I never had while I was growing up. I only had a younger sister, so I never got to experience all the awesome perks of having a brother. They look out for me, they beat me up in the most loving way possible, they give me advice (even when I don’t want to hear it) and sometimes, just sometimes, they prove to me that boys have hearts that are even pinker and squishier than girls.

The Bad: Maybe a little too protective?
Um, can you say cockblock? My roommates have attempted and successfully cockblocked me on many occasions. Not only do they forbid me to have guys over prior to their pre-approval, but when said guys do come over, somehow my roommates manage to suck them into a drinking, smoking and Call of Duty spree, which leaves me alone with a bottle of wine watching Jon and Kate Plus 8 in the living room.  Not to mention, my one roommate, D, has to comment on my pillow talk and naughty noises if I do manage to get someone in my room. Paper thin walls? Serious problem.

All in all, I love the guys. I couldn’t ask for better roommates. It’ll be strange going back to living with girls, not just because it will be tidy again, but also because I’ll have to deal with the unnecessary drama that somehow arises every time girls live together. “When a bunch of girls live together, it’s like a cathouse” as my father would say and frankly, I’m quite content currently being the only kitty in my disheveled doghouse of an apartment.

(crossposted via College Candy)

Dear “That Guy”,

Your ability to drink in excess and ruin 95% of pictures taken at parties gets me hot and bothered. I think it’s uhh… adorable that you maintain your appearance to the point where I question your sexual orientation. I guess I respect the fact that you tweeze, bleach and pluck more than me. The fact that you care about your “fresh kicks getting smudged” more than your future or GPA is super sexy…?

Babe, what happened to you? Before you became “that guy” you were once “just one of the guys.” You were playing Madden instead of photoshopping your Facebook pictures. You couldn’t tell Armani from Target. Your cellphone lived in your pocket instead of clipped to your ribbon belt, and for the love of God, why are you orange-r than an Oompa Loompa?! I liked you without your bromosexuality. I’m not interested in the Brody Jenners or the Gotti wannabes!

Why does your tee shirt have more sparkles on it than Limited Too’s entire Spring Collection circa 1998? These glittery numbers are worsened by being “slim fit” to show off your “killer pecs.” Maybe they work for Hulk Hogan, but they don’t work for you and they definitely don’t work in public. Do society a favor and wear clothes that fit. And if your shirt has a collar? I don’t care if you’ve been popping it ever since you can remember. Old Yeller that nonsense. Put. It. Down.

Take out your Bluetooth headset. Kudos if you use it in your car – safety first. But, that blinking blue light glued to the side of your head while you’re out and about, especially waiting in line at stores (most likely Armani Exchange or Abercrombie and Fitch), makes you look like an ultra douchebag. I am laughing at you. The store clerks are laughing at you. Humanity as a whole is laughing at you. Leave the damn thing in the glove compartment of your car.

What the hell is on your head? First, turn your hat frontwards. Backwards hats were cool for Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit. Ten years ago. Secondly, what kind of hat is it? Baseball hat? Fine. Trucker hat? Toss it out. Ashton Kutcher threw out his, and he was like the Dane Cook of the 90′s. Douche of the decade. Plus, enough with the pre-frayed brim! How do brims even get frayed in the first place? What did you do with yourself to even get a frayed brim? Walk head-on into a concrete wall multiple times? Drop it on a belt sander in shop class in high school? Jesus Christ!

Which brings me to your hair. If it’s longer than your chin, you probably need a haircut. If it’s gelled to the point where you look more like your front lawn than a dude, lose the Loreal. Shaggy is cute, spiky not so much. Also, quit it with the weird chin pubes. They’re itchy and freaky and especially way gross if they’re flesh colored a la Spencer Pratt.

Darling, I like you for you. Not your ill-fitting clothes and designer flip flops. Hell, I’ll let you continue to tell your stories about your drinking glory days once in a while, but please consider at least some of the previous advice, chill out, and leave the metrosexuality and manscaping where it belongs. On Bravo.

Lots of love,

Melanie