Being in college, promiscuity is at an all-time high. College is a time to hook up, have fun and make bad decisions. One major dilemma arises when it comes to hooking up: What if she gets pregnant?
Recently my boyfriend John and I discovered the true meaning of love while waiting in line for breakfast at Hash House a Go Go.
For those who have never been, Hash House is a breakfast restaurant in the Hillcrest area that provides large servings of food. And I do mean large: One meal could easily feed a starving family of four.
Halloween sucks. There, I said it.
Yeah, that’s right, I’ll say it again: Halloween sucks. It is without question the most overrated holiday of the year.
In fact, it shouldn’t even be called a holiday. It doesn’t deserve to be in the same class as Christmas, St. Patrick’s Day or even Columbus Day.
I jerked awake at 7:30 a.m. in my sleeping bag. I was in my brother’s camper in San Clemente and, as usual, I was the first one awake after a long night. I was still salty and sandy from our beach adventures the day before. Day-old mascara had melted onto my cheeks and my hair was threatening to dread and never return to its usual locks.
I’m not sure how many of you actually remember your “first time,” but mine was one that’s hard to forget. For those who remember it as awkward or embarrassing, I can assure you my story will help ease your pain.
No matter who you are, what you believe in or how politically involved you are, chances are that at some point in your life, a petitioner has made you uncomfortable. It’s an unavoidable fact of life. Everyone has been approached by at least one of these form-bearing passer-outers, and I think others can relate when I say I spend the duration of the time trying to figure out the quickest way out of it.
David Pope recently traveled to Las Vegas to celebrate his 21st birthday. The first part of his adventure can be found in the Oct. 15 issue of The Daily Aztec or online at
www.thedailyaztec.com
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San Diego has finally cooled down, which can only mean one thing: The Ugg boots have emerged.
Yes, the monstrosities known as Uggs can be seen all across campus now that it’s a frigid 64 degrees outside.
For the past few months, I have been living in a shack made out of particle board and plastic. Every surface has been painted white to hide the marks of a shady past that I’m sure includes the manufacturing and selling of crack cocaine.
Let me take you back to an innocent time.
A time when people continuously speculated on the whereabouts of Carmen Sandiego. A time when people thought Zack from “Saved by the Bell” was the pinnacle of cool.
It was 1992 and I was 5 years old.
I’m writing this the morning of Wednesday, Oct. 14. I’ve been back in San Diego since Sunday night from my first post-21st-birthday trip to Las Vegas. Sometime during that weekend I caught what I really believe to be the worst cold of my life.
Yesterday I celebrated my one-year anniversary of turning 21 years old. Yes, you read me correctly. I am currently in denial and refuse to believe my mother when she tells me my life is now officially going downhill. It’s only been one day and I’m already afraid to wake up in the morning and look in the mirror only to hear my skin say to me “You look like you could use some Botox, honey.”
In grade school, the highlight of life was being formally asked to “go out” by a boy. You’d go to a PG-rated film, maybe hold hands and maybe even kiss if you were mature for your age.
Chivalry is a trait that must peak in boys at age 10 because it seems to go downhill from there.
You’re at a bar. The music is too loud; that one guy is being a little too creepy and you do not want to follow your friend into the bathroom that looks like a scene straight out of “Trainspotting.” The only option is obvious: Go outside.
But once you’re out there, it’s a conundrum trying to figure out what to do. Rather than sitting there, shivering like a Chihuahua — you can smoke a cigarette.
and 
