Access to technology and social media allows us to be in constant contact and behave boldly at a distance from behind the security of our cell phones. We can look at pictures and find someone’s phone number or determine their group of friends, past employments and how they like to compose thoughts in 140 characters or less. Although problems inevitably ensue, technology can facilitate hookups and relationships in many ways.

Technology can heighten sexuality and instill the feeling that you know someone, making a hookup more likely. “You have access to people’s pictures even if you don’t have their phone number. Or you can just get their phone number from Facebook,” senior Michael Fletcher said.

Based on my informal survey of Wash. U. students, both men and women rely on technology as an easy way to communicate in their relationships. For both sexes, the most popular method used to flirt with a potential hookup is texting, followed by Facebook messaging. After that, girls prefer wall posts, while guys like phone calls.

Almost half of the female survey respondents admitted that the more a potential hookup uses technology or social media to contact them, the more they think that the hook-up is interested. On the other hand, only a small minority of men felt the same way. The majority of both guys and girls testified that social media and technology are a necessary part of the chase.

“How would anyone flirt if they couldn’t text?,” senior Ana-Sofia Mariotta said.

Unsurprisingly, Cosmopolitan magazine recently reported that 78% of people receive sexy, flirtatious texts. Being forward can be easier when the exchange does not happen in person. It’s less awkward and more playful, though it is quite uncomfortable when a cyber Casanova is shy in person. (Note: based on the previously mentioned informal survey, slightly less than half of the male and female Wash. U. student populations reported that they do not sext).

At times, technology can do more evil than good. When asked if they would look at a hookup’s texts if they would not get caught, the majority of Wash. U. men said they would not, while less than half of the Wash. U. women admitted the same. Now that there are more avenues through which privacy can be breached, issues of infidelity and trust are complicated. Texts and Facebook actions can be read and reread until some ulterior meaning is strangled out.

And what happens if you receive a call or text during an actual hookup? Most guys reported they would ignore it, while a minority of girls admitted they would glance down to see who it was from.

When someone has the ability to contact you after you’ve hooked up or flirted in class, it is understandable to feel dejected if that contact does not happen. That is why technology confuses courting: Messages, or their absence, can be agonizingly overanalyzed. The image of a woman anxiously waiting by the phone for a call after a first date is archaic; now the question is if and when you will receive a text.

Britney Spears notoriously broke up with Kevin Federline through a text message. Technology should not be abused, nor should it ever replace good old-fashioned flirting and the accompanying body-language cues. Texting and Facebook can be a great way to get to know someone, but allowing them the power to determine whether or not someone is into you will only lead to missed opportunities.

At least, that’s how it feels. In the past six months, two of my closest friends at Washington University have gotten engaged, and so have three high school friends and innumerable family friends. And it may make me sound heartless, but my initial response was, “No.”

It’s not that I’m not happy for my friends—on the contrary, I can’t wait to go to their weddings, wear silly dresses and watch everyone dance after too much champagne. And I know, at least in the case of my Wash. U. friends, that they are going to be very happy. But as much as I love my boyfriend, I cannot imagine getting married right now.

Many others I’ve spoken with have expressed the same sentiments. The reasons vary: “I want to have a career first,” “I’m not sure I want to settle down with just one person yet” or “I don’t even know if I want to get married.” We are part of a generation with serious commitment issues, likely due to the high divorce rates of our parents’ generation or a cultural breakaway from traditional gender roles. More and more, we’re told to put love on the back burner.

So what about our friends who are about to settle down at 22 while we’re still trying to lock down a job and figure out how to cook anything other than pasta and omelets? Are they crazy to consider getting married now? Or are they just braver than the rest of us?

After seeing parents split and friends get their hearts trampled on (not to mention our own experiences with heartbreak), our guards eventually go up when it comes to love. Getting your heart broken sucks. And that’s why we avoid saying “I love you” for as long as possible and tend to prefer a casual hook-up to anything that could actually injure us. It’s just more logical to keep things at a distance (and at Wash. U., we sure do love logic). But there are tradeoffs with that kind of sensibleness.

If you never let anyone in, you never get hurt. But if you never let anyone in…you never let anyone in. You won’t get to have someone who will be there when you are sick, who will know exactly what it takes to make you laugh after a terrible day, who will hug you even after you spent 48 un-showered hours in the library and all that other cliché stuff that actually makes love awesome.

I’m not saying you need to propose to your boyfriend or girlfriend. I told my boyfriend I’d run if he were to bring a ring anywhere near me right now. But I do think that we all need to challenge ourselves not to be love wimps.

It’s important to do all that crazy stuff—creating birthday scavenger hunts, showing up with roses and/or beer for no reason or even doing something as crazy as agreeing to be exclusive or try long-distance. It will suck if it doesn’t work out. But it’s better to attempt something great than to maintain something subpar. And if the person you’re with doesn’t appreciate it, someone else will.

I know you think you’ve got it rough. I’ve overheard countless Whispers conversations bemoaning the unattractiveness of the female population and many sighs over the scrawny paleness of the guys that line the side tables of the DUC. I know girls who prefer online dating to being confined to the on-campus dating pool and have heard several boys say that they have a “No Wash. U. Girls” policy. And according to College Prowler, our student body has an overall attractiveness rating of B-.

Ouch.

But what surprised me the most about our rating was that it wasn’t given to us by outsiders or some tell-all underground college guide. That rating was given by Wash. U. students themselves. By you.

Before I transferred to Wash. U. my sophomore year, I left my 1,500-student college to visit. And one of the first texts that I sent back to my best friend at Dickinson was “Holy crap, there are so many boys here. So many cute boys.”

Insert as many jokes as you want about the quality of boys at a tiny college in rural Pennsylvania (or my own personal taste), but there were some good-looking guys there, and there are even more here at Wash. U. While I may be slightly biased, I think that my girlfriends here are amazingly beautiful women.

So why does everyone seem to think that our dating pool is the worst out there? And more importantly, why do we think so little of ourselves?

We aren’t a state school, meaning that you really have to be into academics to be a student here. Translation: Every single person who goes here has a little bit of nerd inside of them, whether they show it or not. And since academics are a priority, maybe we skip a little makeup or don’t hit the gym as much as we should.

Call me crazy, but isn’t it better to be with a girl whose foundation doesn’t rub off on the pillow? Or a guy whose room isn’t littered with muscle milk containers? Just because someone doesn’t look like a Playboy bunny or an NFL quarterback doesn’t mean they aren’t attractive. Isn’t it worth it to have someone with whom you can actually have a real conversation before you make like bonobos and bang? We’re so focused on comparing people here to an impossible ideal that we sometimes forget how attractive we really are.

Sexiness is a total package—it’s self confidence, the way hair hangs over someone’s face while studying, the nerdy/witty comment someone makes during a long lecture, how a certain T-shirt looks on that special someone when you go out for coffee. Sexy is what you make it. So Wash. U., please, for your own sake, be the sexy nerds that I know deep down you all are. And don’t be so harsh on your fellow students. The truth is, you’re not going to end up dating Tom Brady, and you’ll probably never have a chance with Megan Fox, so learn to recognize the attractiveness in your classmates—because, trust me, it’s there! You’ll never know how well they clean up until you ask them on that date.

“Nope, he’s in a relationship.” And before her friends could disagree with her, she announced, “It’s on Facebook.”

End of argument.

If you took my Facebook page at face value, you’d think I was a lesbian who was in a long-term, emotionally complicated relationship.

While most of my friends and I mock Facebook norms, I’ve heard people who I highly esteem discuss their Facebook relationship status with anxiety. In a world that increasingly revolves around the Internet, people are starting to care much more about what they are posting online.

I’ve even heard people lecturing one another that their relationship doesn’t “count” if it isn’t on Facebook, and I’ve heard at least five horror stories of people who have opened their home page only to be bombarded with a relationship request from a recent date.

I think it’s safe to say that most of us laugh over these trivial discussions—they seem ridiculous. Or are they? If you’re dating someone, but their relationship status says that they’re single, is it okay to want them to change it? Or is it a bad idea to ask?

In college, when dating can almost always be summed up by “It’s Complicated,” what is Facebook dating etiquette exactly?

The main complaint I’ve heard is that it’s an invasion of privacy. Just because you’re dating someone doesn’t mean you need to broadcast it to the world. So what exactly happened to privacy?

It died somewhere between people being able to upload photos and the creation of “FarmVille.” As a result, some maintain that you’re somehow “sticking it to the Man” by refusing to post your relationship on Facebook and admit to the world what’s going on in your love life.

I’m all about privacy when it comes to the Internet. But at the same time, if you have a Facebook page, people are going to look at it—and if you don’t want that, don’t have one. So if some girl from your orgo class sees that your status is “Single,” she won’t care that you’ve had the same girlfriend for five years when she sees you at a party a week later and puts the moves on you. As much as we all hate to admit it, what’s on Facebook sort of matters.

The best way to deal with this situation? The less said the better. You don’t need to post that you’re in a relationship, but that doesn’t mean that you’re still single. For some, maybe the safest bet is to just not have any information up there, so no one can misinterpret it.

The Internet isn’t real life, as much as some people think it is, so don’t treat it that way. So let’s not rush to the “In a Relationship” status. Don’t forget, if it doesn’t work out, you’re going to have to take it down some day—and we all know what kind of drama that can cause.

Since they’ve been dating for over a year, her boyfriend shrugged dutifully, and they walked out the door. Meanwhile, I went on to prepare for my own boyfriend’s arrival; it had been over a month since our last visit, and I wanted to make sure that I would look good when he saw me for the first time in five weeks. When I mentioned this to him on the phone, he laughed at me.

“Carly,” Ben said. “Have you really forgotten that I saw you when you had mono?” I could hear him grinning over the phone. “Really, I’ll be happy to see you no matter what.”

As reassuring as this was, I flashed back to my relationship before we went long distance. I vividly remember spending whole weekends in my sweatpants, going a couple days without washing my hair and having Ben visit when my room was so messy I had to leap over dirty clothes and notebooks to get into my bed—this was also when I had mono. And now I was touching up my lipgloss in the airport—since when do I do that just for Ben?

Starting a new relationship is one of the most exciting experiences you can have; you’re so into the person that you make sure to come off as extra impressive. When time passes, though, and when a relationship becomes long term, wearing that T-shirt an extra day or putting on eyeliner stops seeming like a big deal. Does this new set of habits mean that a relationship has become too comfortable? Or does this mean that the relationship is secure, and that we can truly be ourselves?

I won’t lie: After the butterflies disappeared from my stomach and Ben had been around for a few hours, I felt far more comfortable about the idea of spending the weekend in jeans and a Hanes T-shirt. But for the initial encounter, I was really happy to know that I looked like the girl he remembered from our first date. And seeing him with a fresh haircut and ironed shirt made me remember the reason we’d ended up talking and getting to know each other in the first place.

There’s nothing wrong with being comfortable; getting to that stage of a relationship is really important. At the same time, it wouldn’t kill us to clean up every once in a while. As much as I’m sure you all have wonderful hearts and huge, sexy brains, odds are that your significant other noticed how good your butt looked in your jeans before they knew all that other stuff. So remind them once in a while just why you caught their attention in the first place, and you’ll keep that eye from wandering anywhere else.

We tend to avoid labels at all costs—but without labels, how do we know if we are or aren’t together? And without knowing your status as a couple, is it necessary to break up, or can you just stop returning phone calls and move on? Is there a kind of breakup etiquette for label-less couples?

Last week, I received a Facebook invitation to Bauhaus. As I pondered the pros and cons of attending (laughing at bad costumes versus being surrounded by grinding, sweaty underclassmen), I had a flashback to sophomore year and remembered meeting So-and-so, who I may or may not have made out with at my first Bauhaus. Our meeting that night led to a few dates, but nothing beyond that, and I hadn’t seen him around much lately. So naturally, I typed his name into Facebook search, only to find that So-and-so had de-friended me.

The two of us should have called it quits from the start; we literally had nothing in common. But since I was new to campus, I figured why not see what the dating scene had in store and give him a shot. After two intensely painful dates, I thought that simply not returning phone calls would probably get the message across. After two days, I hadn’t heard from him, so I assumed that it was over and I could move on.

So when I got a text saying “Meet me outside your dorm,” I was confused. Out of curiosity, I went downstairs, where I received a 30-second lecture on why we shouldn’t date, was told “It was nice knowing you” and was given a handshake. He promptly sprinted out of the dorm. I barely made it inside the elevator before I burst out laughing.

What confused me (and later my entire suite, as we tried to figure out what exactly had just happened) was that we hadn’t actually been dating—we had just been on dates. I didn’t see why he had to go out of his way to end things that were naturally going to die.

But as my suitemate pointed out, all too often people are upset because they feel that they’ve been led on, and are hurt when they never hear from a prospective partner after a few dates. How do we know when we should actually put a stop to something or just let it die?

While there isn’t any set-in-stone rule, I think that the rule of three is a pretty safe bet. If you’ve been on three or more dates, you’ve spent enough time together to actually have feelings, and if you are at that level, you should try to let someone down easily.

If it’s been less than that (a first date is a trial run, another is a second chance in case you totally screwed up the first), you can probably just let it go; there is no need to cause anyone unnecessary humiliation.

So did So-and-so do the right thing? I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt—that is, until he de-friended me. So the moral of the story? Sometimes it’s best just to not say anything. And do not talk to the vampire at Bauhaus, no matter how much he looks like Edward Cullen.

Our friends are the unsung heroes of our lives. They have this sort of magical knowledge that lets them instantly tell if we’re upset, how upset we are and exactly what to do to make us feel better. And, unlike someone we’re dating, we don’t need to buy them anniversary gifts, pick out nice lingerie or agonize over meeting their parents. They’re just there.

But when we start dating someone, our friends sometimes stop being the most important people in our lives. It’s hard on both parties, but particularly on the friends who are left behind.

So when I found myself listening to angry breakup music while I was doing my homework, I began to wonder why it felt so therapeutic. For some reason I had relationship rage, and I wasn’t sure where to direct it. That was until one of my friends from home called me and screamed “I’m done with Meg! If I see one more picture of her and Dan or get her voicemail one more time when I call her, our friendship is over.”

It turns out that’s where my rage was coming from too. Meg, my best friend from the days of glasses and braces, had stopped returning all of her friends’ calls, texts, emails, etc. And as someone who had always been there for her, it was infuriating and painful to never hear back from her when I needed her.

So what can you do when you’ve lost a friend into the black hole of a significant other?

First, resist the urge to tell them how much you think they suck and you hate their new partner—these feelings happen, but it’s not the best way to approach this conversation. Instead, take a deep breath and remember that, for whatever reason, dating this new person makes your friend happy—and, even if you’re a bit jealous, you should at least be able to appreciate that.

Then, be nice, but honest. You are allowed to say, “I’m angry,” “I miss you” and “I wish we spent more time together.” And maybe this will be well-received, maybe it won’t. Open the door to talk freely about your issues, so your friendship doesn’t slowly drift so much that it becomes unsalvageable.

And if you’re the one in the relationship, be the first to call up your neglected friend, and go out for dinner and a movie. It’s the little things that will keep everyone happy and save you if your love life goes south.

“She’s been going out with Rico every night for two weeks and talks to him on the phone all the time. I can’t remember the last time she showed that kind of interest in Mike…” She shook her head. “I’d rather have my boyfriend make out with someone when he was drunk than him spend hours every evening, spilling his heart out to a girl that wasn’t me.”

Technically, Sarah wasn’t doing anything wrong (or at least that’s what she maintained). She didn’t hook up with Rico, she just confided in him constantly and spent long hours at his place watching TV and drinking wine. But can we define cheating as just the physical stuff? And if not, where do we draw the line?

Can we say that even looking at another person is cheating? As much as we might not want to admit it (and we all hate being the jealous type), everyone has eyes, and even if the person you’re dating is madly in love with you, it’s only natural to notice someone’s alluring smile or ridiculous six-pack. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you and what you’ve got—it’s just the way we’re programmed.

Can we say that making out with someone at a bar is cheating? While I’ve heard debates on this one, I’m going to say that this should pretty solidly be considered cheating.

But what about the gray area that Sarah was playing in?

Putting my general dislike for Sarah aside, I tried to be impartial: How could I judge what was going on between her and “just a friend?” The only fair way that I found to create boundaries was to consider what would make me upset if I knew my boyfriend was doing the same thing. And when I thought of Ben having long, intimate conversations with some sexy coworker, I was far more upset than if he were to confess to drunkenly making out with some random chick at a bar.

Emotional cheating is not a myth. It’s very real, and it tends to be even more damaging to relationships than actual cheating—Sarah dumped Mike after her “non-cheating” one day turned into “cheating.” So where do we draw the line? Use your judgment, and always consider your partner. I’m not sure how Sarah and Rico are doing these days, but something tells me she’s not the only one he’s romancing. But hey, according to Sarah, that’s not cheating.

It was 11 p.m., and my roommate, April, was hungry. But instead of going to the pantry, she reached for her phone and called her boyfriend, Harry.

“Please? I’m hungry.” She shot me an emphatic smile and then said, “I love you too. See you in ten minutes.” With a satisfied sigh, April returned to writing her paper, knowing that her midnight snack delivery would be there within a matter of moments. Our other roommate Louise laughed.

“God, that boy is whipped,” she said with a sigh. “He’s brought you three dinners in the past week. I wish I could get my boyfriend to do that.”

When I told Harry I was thinking of writing this column, he gave me the finger (lovingly, I’m sure). While I was a little taken aback, it brought the obvious to my attention: No one likes to think of himself as “whipped.” At the same time though, no one ever wants to be considered uncaring or insensitive to their lover’s needs. So then the question is: Where do we draw the line between being whipped and simply being a good partner?

Boys tend to get the most flack for this kind of behavior. Whenever a guy spends what his friends feel is too much time with his girlfriend, the go-to insult is that he is whipped. And while girls may not use the same word, there are certainly disparaging remarks that get passed around during gossip sessions about that girl who just does too much for her boyfriend. Essentially, no one likes to be told that they care too much.

Being whipped to the point where it interferes with your daily life is undeniably a bad thing. If it gets to a point where you start bailing on friends to help your boyfriend’s grandmother pick out flowers for her garden, you definitely need to re-evaluate a few things. But when it comes to a couple who occasionally brings each other dinner, or spends several hours thinking of the ideal gift for their significant other, maybe tagging them as whipped is a little harsh. We don’t always allow ourselves to care as deeply for other people as we should, or would, if prying eyes weren’t watching.

“I’m equally whipped,” April confided in me later. “I’m just a little more shy about it.”

It’s not a bad thing to make time for the people you love. Carving out some time to be your own person and do your own thing is good for you. But if it’s really a question of picking up a sandwich for the person you love…not doing that is just downright lazy. So show a little love to your boyfriend or girlfriend, and don’t be afraid of some slight teasing from your friends—they probably just wish their partner cared as much as you do.

At least, so I thought. My summer roommate had just gotten out of a bad relationship with an alcoholic boyfriend when she started dating Adam, our new neighbor. She tried to keep her past a secret, in spite of the intense fear she felt every time we went out for drinks with her new companion. One day, she came up to my room, sat on my bed with a confused look and said, “He won’t stop asking me about my ex. And he wants me to…talk about it with him…about my feelings.” She looked at me, skeptical and confused. “Since when is it okay to have baggage?”

The question was one I had also been asking myself recently. After a terrible experience trying a long-distance relationship post-high school, I was absolutely petrified to embark on another attempt at distance with my current boyfriend, Ben, who graduated and is now living in Washington, D.C. But, despite my tendency to get teary whenever we discussed the future, and my sometimes paranoid calls on Saturday evenings, Ben is constantly calm, collected and reassuring.

So why does it seem that people are suddenly OK with baggage? It is by no means endearing to date someone who flinches after you have two drinks or who texts you when you are out enjoying a new city with new friends.

Some would say it’s about lower standards. Let’s face it: As we get older, the distance between us and the “real world” becomes alarmingly smaller. And, while people talk about dating around in their 20s, the ability to sustain a relationship with another person—someone who actually wants to be with you all the time—can connote stability and success in the real world. Or, so the cynic would say.

But I prefer to believe that people are finally realizing that everyone’s got something “wrong” with them. No one is baggage-free, just as nobody lacks some bizarre quirk or habit that can seem like a deal-breaker. And while that means your special someone isn’t perfect, it doesn’t mean he or she isn’t perfect for you.

Bottom line: Life is more fun if you can share it with someone who gets you, regardless of whether they bite their nails, have a cursing habit or a crazy ex. And if they can’t handle your baggage, you don’t need to deal with theirs.