Surviving the Holidays
People always talk about ‘surviving the holidays with the family, as if it’s the hardest thing in the world. But what about all those people who have to survive the holidays without family? What about all those people suffering loss or, better yet, isolation during a season that thrives on family bonding and being kind to strangers? What about those people who have to deal with months of Christmas spirit when all they really want is to forget the fact that they are in it alone? Is it not already depressing enough that Christmas seems to publicly force itself into your face earlier and earlier every year? Is it not already depressing enough to walk around the mall, alone and broke, and see everything from sparkling, five-story Christmas trees to fathers taking their young girls, dressed in matching dresses and bows to sit on Santa’s lap to beautiful, young couples happily embracing each other? Maybe I’m just bitter.
How did the holidays turn into yelling matches with my parents, upping my anti-depressant dosage and attempts at hiding honesty behind sunglasses in public?
Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. Actually, I used to love all holidays. Love is an understatement. I even used to celebrate all eight nights Hanukkah. I could spit out the entire Hebrew prayer before I could even recite the pledge of allegiance. I was the bright-eyed, curly haired sweetheart dressed in an identical party dress as my younger sister. The very same activities that I used to live for now lead me to depths of sadness and remorse.
Shopping as a broke college student (I neither have access to daddy’s plastic nor a trust fund) can be beyond heart-breaking. Shopping in Miami is killer! It’s not even like just Downtown or just “this” mall has the best shopping… it is literally every other street corner. Every time I set out to accomplish something important and see fashion merchandise, I’m gone. The mannequins beckon me, the racks become illuminated, drool starts dripping out of my mouth and I start to feel all hot and bothered inside. I swear, if I could, I’d buy out all those little shops/boutiques you see at Sunset and the Grove in one sitting. But I can’t, at least not yet, so I scrounge together my nickels and browse the sale-racks of those trendy knock-off type stores. 
I love a little school spirit. Why else would one travel to South Miami to attend a university? Why else would one travel to any university, period? Part of what makes students so spirited the University of Miami is our love for all things alcohol-related and the ability to bond over 
Usually, disclosure of my current occupation elicits two types of responses: 1) “Hey, that might be pretty cool. I always go there with my friends”, by the people who’ve never had a job before and 2) “That sucks”, from those who have. It turns out that the beloved Rat looks quite differently behind the bar. Not that I have too much space to judge; I was never initially a fan of the place and had only visited the original location a few times when invited, still never seeing the dazzling allure that reels in legitimate regulars. But still. 
It’s a lot of fun watching videos of random idiots. But, actually, I think I’m just about set on random idiots. So why do they keep infiltrating my computer? Here’s how it works: Celebrities are basically the elite of modern society; they are put on a pedestal and the rest of the world is left to obsess over their talent (or lack thereof). You tube democratizes the culture of celebrity. Everybody gets a chance to be famous. Or at least, any kid with a video camera gets to become ‘youtube famous’. Friends show me ‘hilarious’ videos that turn out to be the biggest waste of my time. But apparently, my opinion is thoroughly unpopular. 
“If you want to achieve greatness, stop asking for permission”. This is the message sees each time 20-year-old photography major, Leah Andritsch opens her laptop. Born and raised in Miami, Leah managed to escape the uniformity of the Hollister-clad, French manicured private, Catholic schoolgirls she was brought up in and, create another self. Travel helped. By the age of seventeen, Leah had already been through Puerto Rico and Europe, and had been accepted into a photography program at Virginia Commonwealth University.
UM is the home of the endless summer. Only here will you see girls walking around in denim belts… I mean shorts.. any time of day, any time of year. Apparently, little ripped fragments of fabric is the perfect way to flaunt those mile-long, tanned leg we work so hard to maintain. But hey, why complain? My eyes are pleased. Note: girls over 115 lbs. usually won’t be caught twice rockin’ the Daisy Dukes.
The University of Miami is practically synonymous with sexy young women in little clothing. But its not easy being beautiful. Here’s the bad news: There are way too many entitled male assheads on this campus. The good news? Once you’ve encountered an asshead, it’s remarkably easy to identify him again and avoid all future contact with specimens of the sort. And may I recommend warning your friends as well? Here’s a quick guide to the species…