Bwog announces the return of Thursday Room Hopping -- now on a new day!

Jessica's room in Claremont is probably the best place on campus to sit pretzel-style on the ground with some milk and cookies for a read-aloud.

The artistic senior spent the week of down-time before school began bringing the outdoors inside of her spacious single.

Clouds float and birds soar on her light green walls.

A tree, lovingly cut out of cardboard, sheds some of its leaves as if a squirrel had just disrupted some branches.

"New York can feel like a harsh, overcivilized place," she said. "I wanted to make it feel like I could have a picnic in my room."

The room has a beach-house feel to it -- Claremont's signature wood floors, the art on the walls, the beige throw-rug, the white canopy over her soft white bed. Books sit not on a shelf, but in a wicker basket on the floor, and a mug hangs delicately by its handle from a hook on the wall.

She has adorned her walls with art -- even the light switch has something to say.

-SEV

You'll never know who she is, but you'll read her anyway. Send questions, propositions, and fan mail to bwogsex@gmail.com. Welcome to the Belle Jar.

Singles Awareness Day (February 14) approaches and already, I overheard someone bitching about lacking a date. Problems like this are often best dealt with by reminding the offender about Darfur or telling them that they're fat, but this time I actually stopped and considered the person's complaint. It got me thinking about singlehood, and how it manifests itself differently in all of us. What follows is not a celebration of that diversity so much as a guide to how to be a good single person; how to wear your solitude—sorry, "freedom"—well.

The Whiner:

You know this person. In fact, you probably know 50 of these people or 49 plus vous. He or she won't go to Hot Jazz without a date, is bitter about relationships without being entertaining, and will insist on buying a full body pillow and naming it after an unrequited love (who was probably less of a sexual being than the pillow). This person has clearly forgotten that they were born alone and will probably die alone. Try reminding them of that and if they cry, let them cry alone.

This will sound harsh, but indulging this person's belief that they can't be complete without another person is a betrayal of their friendship. You can't grow a backbone for someone else, but pointedly ignoring their spinelessness is the next best thing. Comfort them and run the risk of conversing with a person—probably decent and intelligent most of the time—who speaks with more whine than words. Screech back at them and maybe they'll realize they sound like a creep.

I fully support the idea that anyone who constantly complains about being single should be penalized with another month of singledom. This generally happens anyway because the more you complain about being single, the more unattractive you become.