Dear Abby,

I came to college expecting freedom. Instead I landed an overbearing roommate whom I will affectionately refer to as “Big Momma.” When my momma hen is in the Coop (i.e. our double room), her clucking is incessant — I cannot even exit our room without her checking my hemline while packing my purse with a band-aid stash, wet wipes and, of course, my emergency flare kit.

Since the increasing UCSB Alert emails, her mothering has only become more smothering. Coop Dress Code has become more conservative than ever: I’m only allowed to wear high-water overalls (pants don’t get caught in bike chain, big pockets) and Sketchers with wheels (for speed) as my “disaster preparedness” apparel. I’m already having trouble attracting male attention, and I don’t trust men who dig overalls. How can I get out of my overall-induced dry spell without ruffling Big Momma’s feathers?


Dear Shackled by Sketchers,

Regardless of what kind of tail feather you have going on underneath, overalls notoriously produce mom-butt-itis (not to mention front-butt-scrunching, more commonly known as a “camel toe”). Some clothing simply accentuates all the wrong parts. Never fear, Abby is here with a solution. In this case the answer is simple: Flip it, don’t quit it. Next time you’re forced to adhere to Momma’s Rules, comply. Wear your overalls … backwards. That way, all your junk in the front is safe while your trunk is poppin’.



Dear Abby,

As graduation looms on the horizon and unemployment rates soar to terrifying heights, those post-graduation homeless jokes thrown around this time of year are hitting too close to home (or potential lack thereof). How do I make living in the park a walk in the park?


Dear Oceanfront View,

Stop whining about hobo-dom in Santa Barbara. Thankfully, graduation falls in June, which gives you a solid four months of sunny skies to make the move back indoors. Plus living as a temporary transient offers opportunities to unearth talents not cultivated by your college degree — think beachside sand-sculptor, impromptu song and dance performer or sustainable materials fashionista. Come September when you do begin to miss your four-dollar lattes (and roof), you’ll have all the free time in the world and newfound street cred to jump full-force into the job market. Think of the interesting “about me’s” you’ll be able to throw into your interviews and the “special skills” that will send your resume to the top of the pile.


Dear Abby is answered by various loosely defined community sages … or anyone with the time and typing skills to answer your questions. Questions are answered haphazardly or not at all. Anonymity is not ensured.