SHOULD I PEE IN THE SHOWER?
YES: Here’s the deal. If someone tells you they don’t pee in the shower, they’re lying. And honestly, it’s not the biggest deal in the world. You shed so much gunk in there as it is, you might as well leave feeling completely cleansed. The pee trickles down the drain along with everything else, and on top of that, gets washed out by all the soap and shampoo you’re presumably using. Besides, everyone knows showers are like sweatshirts and jeans: they barely accumulate dirt and you only have to clean them once every few months. But if it really bothers you all that much, wear flip–flops. Side note: Baths — no. Pools — maybe.
NO: If you’re considering relieving yourself in the shower, urine big trouble. Chemicals from your nasty douche pee will seep into the tiles and fester there, recombining and evolving into something new, something…insidious. Give it a day or two and you’ll either have sea monkeys or a flesh–eating virus on your hands, depending on how much asparagus you’ve eaten in the last week. If you go the flesh–eating virus route, we’re talking zombie apocalypse within the month. And then all your cells will die and your penis will fall off and you'll never be able to pee again.
Maybe: “If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” The same can be asked of in–shower urination. The answer, friends, is that when you’re alone, it’s all systems go. Peeing is sterile, it saves water and it feels so good. It’d basically be wrong of you NOT to. The plot thickens, however, when your partner enters the picture — or, in this case, the shower. To perpetuate the perception they have of you as hygienic and at least somewhat attractive, act as though you’re one of those people to whom the thought of peeing in the shower has never even occurred. Unless, of course, they’re into the whole water sports domination thing. Then let that shower rain golden.
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SHOULD I DATE MY TA?
YES: We at Penn do what we have to do to get ahead. If that means romancing Vlad, your Orgo TA from southern Romania, then you'd better start cooking up a homey pot of fish head soup to bring by his office hours this week. Vlad likes coffins, bats, long walks under the Eastern European moonlight (but never the sun HISSSSS) and making tea with your tampons. If things ever get weird, you can always gum a clove or 30 of garlic before your nightly make–out sesh. That or shove a stake through his heart (which he'll remind you beats only for your love) before he explodes into several bucketfuls of pus and gore and wasted affection…Wait, what are we talking about?
NO: Stop right there. This is dangerous territory. As a Penn student, you probably value grades above most other things, including your family and your values. Therefore, in no way do you ever want your relationships and grades to be correlated. Ever. Let’s be honest: the shelf life for romances (if they can even be called that) at Penn range from 2–6 weeks. Because classes are typically 15 weeks, that’s just enough time for things to get sour. The relationship will heat up, the power dynamics will make your interactions in the classroom sexual and weird for everyone and then your love will promptly fade, fizzle and collapse — all before you've taken your last two midterms. At this point, either your grade is going to become contingent on your sexual performance (e.g. Ouch! Teeth! C–!) or you are going to have a stage–five clinger that you are forced to oblige. (e.g. “You won't watch season three of Bridezillas with me? B!”) Insert Macaulay Culkin "Home Alone" face here.
MAYBE: Before you fall head over heels for your TA, do consider the following: is this romance blossoming in the midst of a liberal arts class where, when called on, everyone begins their sentences with “I feel like…” and sprinkles in words like “existential” and "esoteric"? Or is this a class in which everyone starts their hand–raising off with “Can you explain…” and then peppers in key phrases like “efficiency” and "diminishing returns"? If it’s the former, believe in yourself and follow your heart. If it’s the latter, we suggest conducting a thorough cost–benefit analysis.
