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The 25 Best Photos From The “TRL” Photobooth

If you spent any time near a television in the late-’90s and early 2000s, then you are familiar with TRL. If this is the case, you are also surely familiar with the TRL photobooth, the last pit stop Britney, or Christina, or Da Brat would make before grabbing the mic and standing next to Carson Daly. I always assumed that the celebs in the photo booth were flashing the camera or making out, but what do I know? Thankfully, MTV has ALL the photos from this pop culture touchstone up on their site, so, before you take off for the long weekend, peruse our favorites from the photo booth, and check out the whole thing over at MTV.

Like This, Love That: Your Music & Book Picks For The Week!

Like This, Love That: Your Music & Book Picks For The Week

Welcome to a new semi-regular feature on The Frisky in which we comb through all the new releases in books and music, and present you with our top picks. We’re calling it “Like This, Love That” — think of it as a human “Amazon Recommends,” or that friend of yours who’s always on top of the newest and the latest. Check out our picks for this week — a major label debut from Odd Future member Earl Sweatshirt and the latest Marisha Pessl novel — after the jump! Keep reading »

4 Life & Love Lessons From Maroon 5

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I will just come out and say it, because this is a safe space — Adam Levine is my secret guilty pleasure and celebrity crush. The hair, the inscrutable tattoos, that reedy, breathy falsetto — he’s the dude that induces eye-rolling at the beginning of the night, but at last call, you’re taking him home. He is my LA-singer-songwriter-babe-I’m-in-a-band kryptonite, and that is why he is here to stay. Surely a man with all these character traits has a lot to say about love. Thankfully, he has left us with his one true gift to the world — the music of Maroon 5. Let’s take a deep dive into the lyrics of Maroon 5 and eke out the very valuable lessons in live and love that Adam has left for us, sprinkled like so many jewels over the years.  Come! Keep reading »

Weekend Shut-In Worksheet: Read Aimee Bender’s Latest, Watch Matthew McConaughey Broaden His Range & Make A Panzanella

Weekend Shut-In Worksheet: Read Aimee Bender's Latest, Watch Matthew McConaughey Broaden His Range & Make A Panzanella

Activities are wonderful, but sometimes, it’s fine to want to shut the world out for a couple of days, and make some serious time for you. Don’t be afraid of FOMO, either. There will always be another party, another pub crawl, another picnic. The time you’ll spend indulging in the things you want to do, alone, are well worth it. Here’s a handy list of awesome things to do this weekend! Keep reading »

Weekend Shut-In Worksheet: Watch “Bunheads,” Make Monkey Milk & Listen To The Julie Ruin

Activities are wonderful, but sometimes, it’s fine to want to shut the world out for a couple of days, and make some serious time for you. Don’t be afraid of FOMO, either. There will always be another party, another pub crawl, another picnic. The time you’ll spend indulging in the things you want to do, alone, are well worth it. Here’s a handy list of awesome things to do this weekend! Keep reading »

Girl Talk: Thoughts On Deferred Admission

I'm Delaying College
True Story: I'm Delaying Going To College
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Girl Talk: Thoughts On Deferred Admission

It is simple, what happened. I was an eager-eyed and relatively coy 18-year-old who was convinced that I was going to attend any four year university for acting, because I was a Capital A Actress. I applied to many schools for acting, I performed earnest monologues in front of expressionless adults behind a folding table. They thanked me for my time, my tights and sensible flats making me feel pulled together and adult. I wrote an essay about moving to California. The first paragraph contained the word “plucky,” which my eleventh grade English teacher Mr. Green circled with a red pen and scribbled “Good!” in the margin. I applied to Emerson College on a whim, as a backup plan, on the off chance that one of the prestigious and extremely competitive acting programs I applied to wouldn’t accept me. I navigated the hell that is the FAFSA, calling my father on the phone every night to make sure he got the papers and filled them out, pressing the papers into my mother’s hands, making sure that she did her part. I gathered all these things, I sent them in, I waited.

Emerson accepted me as a freshman — for writing, not acting — for the fall of 2000, a welcome relief after two weeks full of skinny rejection letters from various acting programs. I awaited the bounty of financial aid money that I would surely receive. Thanks to complications and a couple of sticky conversations about finances I mediated between my father and stepfather, it turned out that despite how it actually was, on paper, it looked like my combined parents made too much money to qualify for much financial aid, despite the fact that my mother and stepfather had already informed me they were not contributing to my higher education.  What came was a paltry offering, an insult really, and not nearly enough money to pay for even one class, let alone an entire semester. After a week of tears and debate and gnashing of teeth, I had two options — apply to the state school in Buffalo, start in the spring semester and go to college in a town where it snowed from October to April, or defer admission at Emerson and reapply for financial aid. Deferring admission seemed the lesser of two evils, so I packed my bags and flew back to New York after high school graduation where I’d wait out my self-inflicted gap year. Keep reading »

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