Corey Brezak '11 offers some tips that might finally help you land that special someone.

Kate C. '11 talks about her aversion to conversations about dating, as well as the state of sexual openness on East Hill.

Cristina Stiller '12 fantasizes about getting asked out, only to be thrust right back into reality.

With formal season coming up soon, A and Z dole out some timely advice on picking a date when attending fraternity functions with friends.

Ready to spend another Valentine’s Day at Club Uris? GoodCrush — a matchmaking website made especially for college students — aims to make bookish students reconsider their plans.

A and Z weigh in on the pros and cons of internet dating in this week's Advice From A to Z.

It’s been a rough November, folks. Highlights include second-round prelims, GRE subject exams, failed immune systems, stalled health care legislation and Mayan prophecies of doom. And to top it all off: boy drama.

I’ve dated exactly once in my life. Risa and I were sworn enemies in the second and third grade, but our unadulterated hatred eventually settled into a life-long friendship. In sixth grade, I asked her out on the set of “Happy Valley High,” a cheap, g-rated, made-for-middle-school version of “Grease.” Our first date consisted of pizza in the back of the auditorium one Saturday afternoon. We broke up a few hours later.

There she is again. That girl that you really like. That one you have such a good rapport with, that you see every day in Libe Café when she orders an iced skim vanilla latte (this is me putting a mundane, over-ordered drink by the majority of female café customers to make a random reader think that I am writing this article solely about them … or am I?) or that you share your text message joke-of-the-day with every week at your Cornell Cheese Club Exec Board Meeting.

One of my Facebook friends posted a status that was all, “Why can’t The Sun publish educated opinions?” So, here goes nothing: David Foster Wallace is the poor man’s Thomas Pynchon ’59. Pynchon is the pretentious man’s Vonnegut ’44. Bam. Moving on.

Last weekend, my friend (who has recently found the man of his dreams) expressed his concern over my own lack of significant other. Heretofore, I’ve remained relatively indifferent on the subject. But then he told me that boyfriends buy you things. Suffice it to say, I’m down.

Z helps readers solve problems with kleptomaniac roomies and boyfriends who want to be considered mere hook-ups.