By Kara Olson

Everyone knows that college is a time for education, exposure to new people and cultures, and a time to discover yourself.

But enough about the sappy stuff, let’s talk about what really matters. When you mix a new- found freedom, co-ed dorms, and kegs constantly on tap, things are bound to get weird.

It’s 3 o’clock Friday afternoon. All you can think about is climbing back into your bed to finally sleep off the Thirsty Thursday hangover you’ve been battling all day. You start texting anyone and everyone A) to get beer and B) to find out where the party is. As you walk into your dorm building, you hear a familiar voice but you can’t quite place it. You turn around to see a group of boys from the floor below laughing and pointing. Never a good sign. One emerges from the pack and complements you on your great dance moves from the night before. Before they can see the shade of red you’re turning you bolt to your room and lock the door behind you. Trying to brush it off, because ~ c’mon, how bad could it have been, you were just having fun ~ you log onto Facebook to get some details about the night ahead. 8 new notifications? Just when you think it’s your friends from home wanting to hear your crazy stories or your weird aunt making a lame joke about spending your weekend in the library, you see that it is in fact a buffet of pictures of you… dancing…on the bar…by yourself…with your bra hanging out…and one shoe on.

Awkward.

You shake it off and put on your best outfit to head out for the night.

You’re at a party and you see this really cute guy looking your way. You turn around to check if he’s just staring at the two girls making out behind you and realize that it is in fact you he’s interested in. Before you can run to the bathroom to check your hair he’s already making his way over. He introduces himself and ~ bonus! ~ he’s an upperclassman. You start talking about classes, professors, and where you’re from. You even let it slide when he does a horrible impression of your accent when he finds out you’re from Worcester.

He’s funny (well, actually he just keeps quoting Dane Cook, but at least he has the timing down).

He’s smart (at least smart enough to be relieved from academic probation this semester). And he’s athletic, the captain of his dorm’s intramural dodge ball team. You think, “This is it, he’s going to be my first college boyfriend.” While he goes to get you a glass of jungle juice, you run to find your friends about your new guy.

You’re beaming, not just because he’s so cute, but because your friends are totally jealous. Your girlfriend asks you to point him out so you scan the room but can’t find him. You head to the bedrooms to see where your dream man has gone.

You open his door, the one marked by the Beware: Party Zone poster on the outside, and there he is…you’ve found him!

Your soulmate is right smack in the middle of those two makeout queens from earlier in the night.

Awkward.

This day was not good. The boys in your dorm ask for another dance every time you pass them. Your one true love loved the bisexual girls from your Lit class more than you. And you are now walking home by yourself because your friends just discovered how much fun the baseball house can be. Once again you find yourself dreaming about your bed, and just as you’re getting to your door you hear the faint whines of a John Mayer song. No, it can’t be, say it ain’t so. You turn the knob and sure enough, it’s locked. Just when you think it couldn’t get any worse, there it is…”Poouuuurrr some sugar on meeeee, poouuurrrr your sugar on meeeeee”. You hang your head low and knock next door.

You’ve just been sexiled.

So, SO awkward.

You wake up. Go back to your room. Ask your roomie and her guest if they want to go the dining hall. Over breakfast, your girlfriends share the awful, excruciating, horribly embarrassing details from the night before and everyone has a good laugh because the truth is…this happens to everyone. And even though it seems like the end of the world, these are the best, most amazing, most fun times you will ever have. And live it up (safely, of course, don’t be stupid!) because you will never, EVER, be able to get away with this stuff again.