Sweatpants. I wear them a lot and nobody cares — especially not my cat.

It’s funny how life works. One day I am watching the crappy movie “Going the Distance,” thinking to myself how long-distance relationships never work and how I’ll never ever be in one.

I always told myself anyone in a long-distance relationship is wasting their time and I would never be caught dead in one. Yet here I am, in a long-distance relationship. It’s almost exactly what I was afraid it would be.
To put it simply, a person in a long-distance relationship is single yet has none of the freedoms that go along with it. Initially, I thought this was going to be kind of nice. I thought it might be fun to spend four months watching my friends strike out with women instead of me for a change. The fun of being “that guy” wears off pretty fast. Eventually you start feeling as respectable as a preteen girl saving herself for Justin Bieber.
Then there’s Skype, which is the only way she and I can communicate, and it’s fine. My friend even told me some of the physical aspects of a relationship (the part that is nonexistent) can be substituted with this video technology. I said, “Heck, why not give it a whirl?” Well, I don’t know exactly how it’s supposed to work and neither did she for that matter. We gave it a go-around, and it was weird. Maybe we just don’t have the technological prowess others have, which I can live with.

Living in San Diego has its ups and downs. The beach is always accessible and wonderful landmarks, such as the Cabrillo National Monument and Mount Soledad, are never too far away. However, nothing is perfect.

Shoes are worn as often as underwear: every day. They are relied on to protect feet at work, school and the gym.
However, is it possible to rely too heavily on shoes? In a $20 billion industry, modern athletic shoes specially designed to provide support during physical activities are proving to do more harm than good.

Picture this: It’s 6:48 on a Sunday morning and I’ve only been home a few hours after being out in Pacific Beach (don’t judge me – it was for a birthday party).

It’s officially my seventh week as a graduate student, and I am just now starting to get a grip of the pace, my schedule and priorities.