Most of us are sporting dark circles under our eyes, resulting from a combination of the horrendous fluorescent lights illuminating the all-night study rooms in the library and severe sleep deprivation.

Of course, this is how some people look every day, but even those who make an effort to look poised and polished on a regular basis have a hard time keeping it up during these last two weeks of the semester.

Just when I thought I was going to have to write another column about how my own sex life has withered and died, I received inspiration from the heavens. Snow!

Classes are cancelled from 3 p.m. onward, the library is closed and people are frolicking in our very own winter wonderland.

I began checking away messages to see where people were congregating to enjoy the snowy weather when I came across an away message that quoted the classic winter holiday song, "Let it Snow."

Did you ever realize how, in the right state of mind, this beloved melody is extremely sexual? Let's take a closer look:

Oh the weather outside is frightful. Okay, that starts out innocent enough.

But the fire is so delightful. A romantic fire: a metaphor for the flames of passion and desire? I think so!

And since we've no place to go. True, there is no place to go. The library is closed, classes have been cancelled, and no one wants to drive on the roads with North Carolina drivers who only see this weather once every two years.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! Could this be an orgasmic utterance screamed at the height of passion? Possibly.

Well it doesn't show signs of stopping. Well, unless you're a girl that is, then it might never have started.

But we've got some corn for popping. Popping? Ha! So that's what they're calling it these days!

And the lights are turned way down low. You were skeptical before, but now you see what I mean! This song is one big sexual innuendo! It's a song of wintry seduction!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow! The person who wrote this song either really liked snowstorms or he/she liked being trapped in a room lit only by a fire, forced to share bodily warmth for survival.

When we finally kiss goodnight. Finally kiss? You mean they haven't been kissing already? Maybe they just skipped all the foreplay and went straight to the main event.

How I hate going out in the storm. Translation: "Please baby, don't make me go. I just want to stay here and fu- I mean cuddle."

But as long as you hold me tight. That's more like it. Go get 'em tiger.

Oh, all the way home I'll be warm. Translation: "But you can bet I won't be calling your ass tomorrow."

The fire is slowly dying. You could take this one of two ways. Either the physical fire is dying down or the more likely option is that the two lovers have gotten sick of each other (as most people do here at Wake Forest) and the flame of desire has all but gone out.

But my dear we're still good-bying. Well, classes were cancelled. And there's no use doing any work because the library is closed. And my roommate is still out prancing in the snow É

And as long as you love me so. Love? Who said anything about love? You don't love me, you just love me doggy style.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

I bet you'll never look at holiday music the same way when you realize what's really going on under the sheets -- I mean surface.

"Sex and the Campus" is a regular column exploring the sexual climate at the university. The column is written by a senior under a pseudonym in order to maintain her sexual anonymity. To contact Brandy, e-mail sex@ogb.wfu.edu.