>>> The Rollercoaster of Drama
By staff writer Simonne Cullen
February 29, 2004

It's Lent season, and even though I haven't been to church since my high school graduation, I know I'm going to need the grace of God on my side when I take my finals in two weeks. Consequently, I had to figure out what to give up for forty days. One of my friends says that she is giving up sex. I told her to stick with the original plan and give up Krispy Kremes.

What makes my friend's original idea so implausible? Well, sex is the main reason why we're all here. Sometimes it's good, and sometimes it's really bad. But mainly this is the only time in our life when it's widely available in a variety of options, and as a bonus we can get these options whenever and wherever we want.

I guess it's best to start from the beginning. How many of us pulled an American Pie and tried to lose our virginity before we got to college? How many of us actually succeeded? Not me that's for sure. I came into college ready for guys to fall at my feet in large numbers, sitting still while I picked and chose from an elite crop of hotties with ripped bodies. Hollywood movies are so misleading. Fuckers.

That's right ladies. There is no handsome older Patrick Swayze-ish guy who will teach you how to ballroom dance and fall madly in love with your small boobs and naiveté. It's a harsh reality to know that not everyone's first time will be special, but you must remember that the sweet is not as sweet without the vanilla-flavored condoms.

Life isn't like the way it is in the movies. If you're coming into college single and a virgin then the following applies to you. In major motion pictures, losing your virginity is called making love and usually involves some sort of candlelit, poolside surrounding with John Mayer playing softly in the background. In college (aka reality), if you're not careful, losing your precious flower is called getting your V-card swiped, definitely involves a substantial amount of alcohol, bountiful awkwardness during the insertion process, and if you're lucky a bed, not the floor.

Virgins, God love 'em, are everywhere. But mostly in the freshman class and the religious groups roaming around campus. Lots of girls come here virgins, and by Thanksgiving break more than half of them lose their willpower to make themselves—much less the penis or the boy attached to it—wait.

Oddly enough, the hardest part about losing your V-card is not the insertion process but probably telling your friends from back home that your purity vanished at exactly 1:08 a.m. in the morning of November 11th by your really big crush you hope is just really as cool as you think he is at that moment.

I didn't know what to tell my friends when I lost my precious flower. But once you're a woman or a man there's no way you can keep it a secret. You'll be sitting there smiling like a jackass during dinner when one of your buddies will eventually realize that you're not smiling over the mystery meat cuisine. And they'll ask you…what are you grinning about? And then you'll lay it on them.

Knock Knock…
Who's there?
I had sex with Josh.

And before they have time for the information to penetrate…

Knock Knock…
Who's there?

It's so hard to play drinking games with virgins. Like “Never Have I Ever.” I know this one girl who always screws up the game because she hasn't done anything past first base. Ever. So of course, as soon as she comes over for a pre-party and we play, someone always has to ask the same question, “Never Have I Ever Touched A Man's Inner Thigh—oh Pati, this time you get to have a drink!” And then it's over. She's stone sober and the rest of us are blacked out.

And I have friends who are virgins. Girls who are waiting to fall in love with someone who makes it special. And that's super. It truly is, but I can't imagine the road the boyfriend must have to walk to get to the pink taco promised land. I know a guy who said that he cares about his girlfriend enough to wait it out with her, but ever since he's been dating her he's been really edgy and I've heard him mutter under his breath in class something that sounded like, “Damn woman I know you love Jesus but a man need more than his hand.”

Then there are the issues of the born again virgins. Who do these girls think they're kidding? The Pope? Ha! Santa knows whether you've been good or bad, but Jesus knows whether the sex was good or bad because he was there in the room at the time. Okay now I have entered uncharted territory and those Jehovah's Witnesses are going to come after me.

Moving along.

What's with these girls who think they can be born again virgins if they don't have sex for a year? Once that hymen is broken your virginity is gone. The hymen is not a starfish's arm ladies, when it breaks off it doesn't slowly rebuild itself back to protect your uterus.

When girls tell me they're born again all I can think about is that little midget woman from the movie Poltergeist who emerges from a room completely disheveled and declaring in her little midget freaky voice “THESE PIPES ARE CLEAN!”

But alas, these born again virgins seem to be popping up everywhere. They say they are making a good life-altering choice, that you just have to find it in yourself to believe you are pure again. And if that's the case then I have to retrieve my dignity—I believe it's still in the Delt house shower waiting to be picked up.

Amen to that!