January 17, 2011


The Morning After

Your underwear
Are always the first thing to go missing,
Hiding under the bed,
Or tossed into some far corner.

He usually will get up first,
To make coffee, or go to the bathroom,
That is, if you aren’t ashamed enough
To have snuck out during the early dawn light
First.

You will have roughly 15 minutes
To regain some semblance of the well-pressed self-control
You had the night before,
Sans brush, and sans mirror.

His roommates will be moving noisily around,
With no clue or no care
That you might still be there.
They talk about eggs as you try to find all your rings,
Loose, like how you’re feeling about your morals.

You hold your forehead,
Sneaking glances at him in Ray Bans and a Sox hat,
From in between your fingers
As he drives you home.
You wonder if he’ll call again.

XOXO

- A poem from last semester’s Reading and Writing Poetry class in response to overly sappy and loving waking-up-and-looking-at-the-love-of-your-life aubades. The college equivalent. 

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February 12, 2011


The Kinds Of People You Can Date: Summer Fling

ohhellothereyou:

“You can date someone in the summertime when it’s too hot to have rules. This person might not make sense in February when you’re wearing thick coats and eating too much, but they’ll fit in nicely at a Fourth of July barbecue or a pool party. Your bodies will stick together in the heat and sometimes having sex will be the grossest activity you can think of, but you’ll do it anyway. You’ll understand what it means to be in a “summer mood”, how you can spend three months taking a break from your real life to make out, wear provocative clothing and drink too many margaritas. Your skin will be sun kissed, sand will stick between your toes and you’ll feel kinda sexy. When you start wearing cardigans and throwing yourself back into your work, your summer lover will fade away and the romance will live on as some kind of lost weekend at the beach. That’s okay though. Those who can love you in the summer have a difficult time doing so any other time.”

The Kinds of People You Can Date (via findingsaraland)

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Via Date Me! I'm on Twitter!

December 26, 2011


Murphy’s Law for Women: If you actually shave, nothing will actually happen that you would have needed to shave for.

It’s self-cockblocking 101.

XOXO

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"But Why Isn’t He Trying To Take Advantage Of Me?" A 21st Century Love Story.

Mostly, I really like and appreciate the fact that I’ve dated a bunch of people over the last 6 years. Sometimes, however, I think all that dating can really fuck you over.

"It’s been two weeks; I just spent 6 hours with him, and we’re still just kissing," I whined the other night to my go-to girlfriend for dating advice, Madison.

"Stop initiating and don’t buy him ANYTHING and see how he reacts," she wisely advised me.

"Hmmm, and it was only the first afternoon I’d spent at his house. Ummm…I’m of one of two minds, here, and I can’t stay decided on one for more than 5 minutes. Does he find me unattractive and is using me, or is this time-frame actually normal and I am sex-starved and expecting things to happen way too fast?"

"I don’t know what normal is anymore," came her response, which neatly echoed the same uneasy thought that I’d been having since The Dude had walked me to my car and tucked me into it with a sweet and prompt kiss goodbye.

It’s not like he isn’t affectionate, or handsy. He’s a big fan of the caress-down-the-side-and-over-the-butt when we’re in standing-room-only situations and I’m wearing a pair of particularly tight pants. He’ll rub my back when we’re sitting side-by-side or drape an arm over me. But, like, where is the whole “You’re a small, defenseless girl alone in my apartment and I’m going to take advantage of you” instinct? I get mindlessly (sexually) excited every time he suggests watching a movie, which I grew up meaning to understand as “Let me put this DVD in and take the darkness as an excuse to make a move and maul you,” but am flabbergasted every time he actually, like, watches the movie. The WHOLE thing. While cuddling, but nothing more than PG-13, regardless of the fact that some scenes in Crazy, Stupid, Love could double for artistic soft-core porn.

Is he possibly old-fashioned with the whole, “If you really like a girl, you take her out, you court her, and THEN and ONLY THEN you make the move” mentality? I mean, I find it hard to believe at times, as this is the same guy who self-admittedly shared a “slampiece" with his best friend back in high school. (For those of you who aren’t quite as morally corrupt or hood as we are, I have conveniently linked that term to Urbandictionary’s definition for you. It’s enlightening.) However, he always kisses my mother good-bye on the cheek and opens every. single. goddamn. car, building, and nearly imaginary door for me like a good Italian boy is taught to. He always tells me how pretty I look. He calls me every morning, without fail, which would be really fucking sweet if it wasn’t before he goes to work…at 6 AM. And he calls or texts every night before bed, in just the same way. 

And yet…I have yet to have a full-on, balls-to-the-walls make-out session with him. You know, him, the guy who introduces himself as my boyfriend to everyone he meets while we’re out together. I mean, we all know my sex-drive speedometer reads like that of a Mercedes-Benz that McLaren ‘s gotten their hands on. So, to bring about the eternal question between the sexes…is it him, or is it me?

I thought back to the past few guys I’ve dated one night after The Dude went wandering home sans heavy-petting. The S.O kept me on tenterhooks waiting for him to kiss me; many awkward goodbyes without eye contact were said over a car’s center console. TGIS didn’t make a move for an entire MONTH in fact; it was later revealed he had been seeing someone else while trying to get out of that relationship to enter one with me (keepers, I know). Gypsy and I spent a good month seeing each other, culminating in lots of hugs good-bye and a night spent cuddling in the same bed with nary a single kiss in there. In fact, I realized with a slowly sinking feeling, the only guy I have EVER. DATED. who made a move in the time that I so bassackwardsly deemed “appropriate” was Hollywood, who invited me to spend the night with him the first time we ever hung out.

Oops. So maybe it’s just me, and maybe I am…a little bit of a…slut.

…Oh well. 

It was pointed out to me that guys can’t win one way or another— if they make a move too quickly, girls think they’re only after that one thing and peace out on them. But if they wait like this— like a supposed gentleman is supposed to— it makes women freak out and think they’re frigid, or worse yet, secretly gay, or, possibly, a con artist. Is it actually normal for a guy to still be taking it slow two weeks’ and change in; am I finally climbing the walls after nearly 6 sexless months and have screwed myself over by having constantly equated sex with intimacy in my past (and we all know how well THAT turned out, yes sirs and ma’ams); or are we both freaks of nature? 

I don’t know. I’m beside myself on this one. Weigh in for me, populace, and tell me what you think of my cunning little lacking-cunnilingus conundrum.

XOXO 

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February 10, 2012


Nearly 18,000 reblogs and I think I’m the only one to bypass the generic cute couple and catch on to the Jesus Is Watching framed photo in the back and thus render the entire attitude of this photo as HILARIOUS rather than sentimental.
Jesus is watching, bro. I don’t think he approves of what you’re doing there.
XOXO

Nearly 18,000 reblogs and I think I’m the only one to bypass the generic cute couple and catch on to the Jesus Is Watching framed photo in the back and thus render the entire attitude of this photo as HILARIOUS rather than sentimental.

Jesus is watching, bro. I don’t think he approves of what you’re doing there.

XOXO

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February 12, 2012


You know how there’s that stereotype/mass urban college legend about how you can get chicks just by strumming a few chords on a good ol’ six-string? You know how everyone is always saying that it doesn’t really work; that only really naive underclassmen would fall for that trick, hook, line, sinker, no panties? Well, let me tell you a true little story about a girl we’ll call, hmmm…Clarissa, since she’ll be explaining it all, and a guy whose identity we’ll preserve by calling him the Ex. 
I came bearing a tray of brownies that first night he invited me over, for two reasons: One, my momma raised me to fully believe in host gifts, and Two, by that point in my life I had dated and was clever enough to realize that the quickest way to smoothing a roommate or friend’s feathers and winning them over too was through home-cooked food. He picked up a guitar after everyone had gone to bed, and started randomly thumbing a few bars, then sang me the only song he knew how to play: Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Communist Daughter.” The chorus includes the line, “And semen stains the mountain tops; and semen stains the mountain tops.”
Maybe I was young and naive. I look back on that night now, and that’s what I’d like to believe, but between the fact that he had made his bed and cleaned his room to a degree that I would never once see again during the entirety of our impending relationship, and the fact that I’d done the cyber equivalent of shouting from those same semen-stained mountain tops of my blog that for him, I was DTF at any time, and knowing that he’d been reading along, I would have to argue that I probably wasn’t. 
His eyes were so pretty. When he sat next to me and put his large, warm hand on my denim-clad knee and asked me politely, ever so politely, with a slightly skittish waver in his voice, to stay the night, I would have never refused, even had I been ninety-three and Barbara Walters. 
XOXO

You know how there’s that stereotype/mass urban college legend about how you can get chicks just by strumming a few chords on a good ol’ six-string? You know how everyone is always saying that it doesn’t really work; that only really naive underclassmen would fall for that trick, hook, line, sinker, no panties? Well, let me tell you a true little story about a girl we’ll call, hmmm…Clarissa, since she’ll be explaining it all, and a guy whose identity we’ll preserve by calling him the Ex

I came bearing a tray of brownies that first night he invited me over, for two reasons: One, my momma raised me to fully believe in host gifts, and Two, by that point in my life I had dated and was clever enough to realize that the quickest way to smoothing a roommate or friend’s feathers and winning them over too was through home-cooked food. He picked up a guitar after everyone had gone to bed, and started randomly thumbing a few bars, then sang me the only song he knew how to play: Neutral Milk Hotel’s “Communist Daughter.” The chorus includes the line, “And semen stains the mountain tops; and semen stains the mountain tops.”

Maybe I was young and naive. I look back on that night now, and that’s what I’d like to believe, but between the fact that he had made his bed and cleaned his room to a degree that I would never once see again during the entirety of our impending relationship, and the fact that I’d done the cyber equivalent of shouting from those same semen-stained mountain tops of my blog that for him, I was DTF at any time, and knowing that he’d been reading along, I would have to argue that I probably wasn’t.

His eyes were so pretty. When he sat next to me and put his large, warm hand on my denim-clad knee and asked me politely, ever so politely, with a slightly skittish waver in his voice, to stay the night, I would have never refused, even had I been ninety-three and Barbara Walters. 

XOXO

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February 26, 2012


The Morning After

Your underwear
Are always the first thing to go missing,
Hiding under the bed,
Or tossed into some far corner.

He usually will get up first,
To make coffee, or go to the bathroom,
That is, if you aren’t ashamed enough
To have snuck out during the early dawn light
First.

You will have roughly 15 minutes
To regain some semblance of the well-pressed self-control
You had the night before,
Sans brush, and sans mirror.

His roommates will be moving noisily around,
With no clue or no care
That you might still be there.
They talk about eggs as you try to find all your rings,
Loose, like how you’re feeling about your morals.

You hold your forehead,
Sneaking glances at him in Ray Bans and a Sox hat,
From in between your fingers
As he drives you home. 
You wonder if he’ll call again.

XOXO

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March 24, 2012


"I see this girl everyday… .If I asked her on a date would it be bad if I said I was looking for a sexual relationship during the date? I mean she gets a free dinner so how can she be mad? I think I have to let attraction occur naturally— it’s just my biology, I guess. You know, focus on her personality and then hope the combination of her personality and body is sexy. (But then it’s…not exactly straight-up that way either; I mean if she straight-up told me she could do things to me I wouldn’t forget then I wouldn’t turn her down either!)"

As far as intellectual attraction versus chemical attraction goes, I’m of two minds. If you’re looking for a purely sexual relationship, then you need to be with someone who instantly, every time you see them, makes you want to drop your pants instantaneously. Conversely, if someone is psychically very appealing, but mentally deadening (example: the last guy I dated), chances are you won’t be able to sustain sexual interest in them. It’s very much a Catch-22. However, whatever you end up doing, remember— BE CLEAR that you’re not looking for an emotional, committed relationship, even from Date 1. I wouldn’t suggest saying, “I want a purely sexual relationship with you” to a woman— that’s an excellent way to get a drink thrown in your face. However, saying, “I’m not looking for anything serious right now, but I do want someone to spend time with and date,” generally lets women know you are not their Future Husband— you’re the next guy who wants to have sex with them. Sex is a big part of dating. Usually, by Date #3 (I THINK that’s still society’s chosen and acceptable Sex Date,) you sleep with the person you’re dating, and continue from there. This is NOT to say, however, that there are some sexually-forward women who won’t have any qualms sleeping with you at the end of the first date, or some other challenging women who will make you wait to the 5th. This also should give you enough time to settle your intellectual/physical attraction conundrum. That is, after all, what dating is for.

XOXO

—-

"Not so fast. People have been telling me to just be straightforward and tell her right away. And I always respond ‘But it can’t be that easy.’ [You’re] not telling me something. I am going to get a drink thrown in my face."

Because you ARE a stranger to me, I have no idea whenever I give advice to anyone who writes asking for it what THEIR personality or style when it comes to critique and constructive criticism is. I don’t know what your flirting style is. I don’t know how you attempt to pick women up. Not knowing these things, I can’t give you insight or custom advice. All I have to go from, therefore, is to look at the main offenses when it comes to flirting and dating and sex and try to warn you against those. If you had said, “I told a girl while on a date that all I was interested in was sex, and she threw a drink in my face,” it would be easy for me to say, “Well, there you go! Don’t say that— just say (this) instead!” or if you gave me the example, “I keep whistling at girls on the street, but I’m not getting any takers!” I could have told you why that was. Because it seems from your latest response that you’re beyond that point, it’s definitely of no help to you. If you hadn’t known it before, now you would have. Congratulations. Thanks for being more enlightened than some other guys.

XOXO

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"You know [how] people always talk about people ‘hooking up’ and having somebody they can call when they have ‘needs?’ A woman in one of my classes was talking about how she had somebody she could call up in such a time. She said she felt sorry for anybody who didn’t feel they could partake in that kind of relationship. However, I don’t feel I can even initiate such a relationship because even just talking about this subject of sex in a conversational manner causes me to feel like I am experiencing…the…rejection that I fear. I feel like there are these magical formulas that I don’t know."

I actually DON’T know how people are always talking about hooking up and having someone they can call anytime to have sex with. Despite what college campus inhabitants and Hollywood would have you think, “sex buddy” and “no strings attached” situations are far less prevalent than popular theory would have you think. During my college years, I personally found that many people bragging about how much sex they had were flat-out lying. Nearly no one gets laid as much as they’d like to have you think. I myself haven’t had sex since my last serious relationship ended in July. But do I MAKE it seem as if I’m sexually active and attainable? Certainly. That’s some of the charm that pulls other sexually-active people to you, which is something you want if you’re looking for a relationship, sexual or committed or otherwise. I don’t think ANYONE would be sexually attracted to a repressed individual who said, “I haven’t had sex in the last 2 years.” It’s all a matter of talking the talk to try to find people who are interested in walking the walk with you. This does not however, as I’m sure you’ve already figured out, automatically guarantee you a sexual relationship. I’ve dated two guys since last July— still no sex. It happens, frequently, and I guess that’s my point. (Again, I’m not sure if you already do/know this…I just want to try to cover ALL the bases.)

I polled a few of my friends who I went to college with, and all of us agreed— we’d never had NSA relations with anyone, or, if we did, it was a situation in which one person was thinking a relationship would grow out of it while the other was purely looking for sex. If you’re looking for those “magical formulas” (which I’ll warn you— there is no magical formula for ANY kind of relationship; if there was, the divorce rate would be lower, there wouldn’t be any single 30-something women wailing about their biological clocks, and I would be landing many more dates than I currently am,) for constructing a “hooking up/no strings attached” sexual relationship, I’d advise you to talk to that girl in your communications class who claims to have one about it and how she set it up. Because I like being a stellar girlfriend and cohabitator, I don’t have purely sexual relationships or NSA endeavors. Therefore, I may not be your best bet to figuring out how to go about it. I am, however, still always good for at least trying to puzzle out female behavior and dating protocol.

The last piece of advice or “magic” I can leave you with is this…it is, in fact, very easy to judge if a woman is open to having sex with you or not, but it DOES require some major balls and being comfortable in talking about sex frankly. I’ve actually learned this tip from the guys over on Plenty of Fish and OkCupid, and it’s very simple: Start talking to a woman about sex, about sexual preferences, or sexuality. You will find out VERY quickly if she’s also interested in having sex with you, because she’ll continue the conversation. (Obviously, sex and relationship columnists don’t count, because it’s our jobs to talk to people about sex from a third-party POV.) If a woman is A.) looking for more than a sexual relationship but would be willing to try it out, B.) likes you as a person but doesn’t want to sleep with you, or C.) hasn’t made up her mind yet as to if she’d be willing to sleep with you, she will try steering the conversation back on course to a more PG topic but will continue talking to you. If a woman DOESN’T want to have sex with you or is offended by the idea of a purely sexual relationship, she’ll instantly stop talking to you. If it seems like a large order to you, I’d advise you start online or via texting— it seems easier to discuss potentially embarrassing things when you’re not face-to-face with someone, and it gives a girl the easier out of merely not responding if she’s not interested, which in the overall scheme of things, is probably the easiest let-down for a guy.

Yes, it’s rough, and yes, it’s very forward, but the only way you can ever get a person into bed is by asking them to go to bed with you. I’ve always said, if you’re not comfortable with the idea of discussing sex or anything related to sex, such as sexual history, sexual health, birth control options, bodily functions, etc., then you aren’t ready to have sex. Talk about it more to become more comfortable with it if it’s something you struggle with, with friends (friends are the best as far as comfort levels go, but not necessarily as far as truth is concerned), classmates, coworkers (if it’s appropriate, of course!) and health workers. Take a Gender Communications class if your college offers one— there is no better place to get used to saying the words “orgasm” or “sex” than in a class that is purposefully made to discuss it. The next time you go in for a health exam, talk to your doctor about what sex statistics are like for other people your age— how many partners they’ve had, how frequently most people have sex, etc. Despite the fact I’d been on it for 4 years and was prescribed it, I didn’t truly understand how my birth control worked until I sucked up my fears of seeming ignorant and asked my doctor during a Pap screening how, EXACTLY, it worked, and what it meant for my sex life, using condoms, and my reproductive cycle. (Another great place to have this discussion is in your campus health office. Most people there are so used to seeing the condoms offered freely on the front table and treating UTIs that they can give you very truthful, valid facts without even blinking.)

When it all comes down to it, it’s just sex. It’s something that nearly all humans do as naturally as eating, breathing, and shitting. There is absolutely no reason it should be so taboo or shameful to admit that it’s something you’re interested in and want to be having more of.

(For any further hooking up or NSA relationship questions, though, I really would strongly advise you to ask that girl in your Comm. class if she’d be willing to meet you outside of class some afternoon at like, the campus coffee shop to tell you how it’s working for her and how she did it. If she willingly offered up that information in class and really is as sexually aware and comfortable as she seems, I bet she’d have no problems talking about it over a coffee. Tell her you’d love to buy her a coffee or tea sometime in exchange for discussing it. I can’t tell you how many free coffees or teas I’ve accepted in exchange for relationship advice. It works out well.)

All the best,
XOXO

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April 11, 2012


In Response To TenaciousTwenties Comment On “Girl Talk: A Girl’s Worst Nightmare.”

I sent this to her in an Ask, and I thought it was valid enough for the rest of you to see, too, as it may help explain why I am the way I am when it comes to my neuroses about dating and constant double-backing on my own thoughts and actions:

Oh, I’m confident in ME…I’m just not confident in my ability to pick a diamond from the rest of the rough. The last guy I dated was so charming and seemingly non-threatening that I let him get away with over $400 before I even realized what was happening; I learned my monetary lesson but money’s whatever compared to my emotional wealth and sanctuary. I don’t want a guy to run away after sex and with my emotions just because he was charming…just to get my pants off and then hit it and quit it like might have happened. XOXO

And here is Evidence #2, a conversation I had with a (male) friend of mine tonight:

Rob: “Self-communication can be wishy-washy, or neurotic.”

"Oh, I am SO neurotic right now. Slept with the Mountain Man on our second date. Now waiting to see if I shot myself in the foot."

Rob: “Hahaaa; why, did you suck?”

"No, quite the opposite— I’m just worried about the ‘hit it & quit it’ thing. Half of me says, ‘he’s 31 and can’t afford to do that anymore,’ the other half of me says, ‘some men never grow up’. I figure, it took him 3 days to get in touch after our first date and he only has two days a week off…I can wait and see what happens, and then onto the other 4 guys I’m dating."

Rob: “You and your stacked deck.”

"Always, man, always."

Rob: “I would never.”

"I don’t like playing on losing odds. See, this is what I figure: I’m talking to four different guys via online dating. I’ve set up dates with three of them. So far, I’ve been out with two. I’ve slept with one."

Rob: “That’s modest.”

"Now, if he chooses to be a dick and was just in it to hit & quit, I have 3 other potentials to redeem myself with, without wasting any time in finding out which of the five I like the most and actually want to be with. Then, au revoir to the other four."

Rob: “See, I tend to believe that you just could have created one, two, or even four super-jaded bastards, likely to denounce the name of man by repeating such said cycle onto other women from being wounded by your actions. This worries me, even if they are silly OkC goons.”

"Maybe that’s the issue: I’ve been played that way so many times I live in terror of it happening it again so I in turn perpetuate it onto the men that could do it to me before they have the chance to."

Rob’s verdict on my behavior: “Bulls-eye.”

I guess what it boils down to is the very human fact that I don’t like getting played (just like any other human being,) and I also don’t like feeling like I’ve “given up” something without having any concrete discussions about where what we’ve engaged in makes us stand. So, instead, I “stack my deck” so that if I engage in a horrible screw-up (say, sleeping with someone too early on, etc.), I still have other dating candidates to fall back on, with a better sense of what NOT to do next time.

I, unfortunately because of this, am the type of girl who sits in a man’s passenger-side seat, clutching her purse, and after he starts with, “Well, that was a pleasure…” cuts him off and chirps, “Yeah! That was fun! Let’s do it again sometime!” like a maniacal sex fairy and then bolts out of the car like a greyhound chasing a rabbit out of the gate. Let’s be clear here: For being the very verbose, frank female that I am when it comes to relationships, when it comes to MY relationships happening and unfolding right this very second right in front of me, I have the foresight and vision of one of the Three Blind Mice. That moment where you’re not sure if you were a hook-up and don’t merit a good-bye kiss, or there’s actually potential so you should brave the couple of seconds’ wait until someone leans in to go for it? I do not have the nerves nor, seemingly, the time to wait for that judgement call. So I bolt, to later obsess about it for hours upon end in the sanctuary of my own house. 

And this is where it leaves you: with NO idea of what transpired between you, if it’s going anywhere, and lots and lots of intense, head-bashing guilt. Lesson learned. Next time, I will keep my ass in the goddamn car if it kills me inside to do so and after the obligatory three awkward seconds of waiting, will lean in MYSELF for the good-bye kiss. Because I am not just a ONS girl, and I am worth it. If I’m going to date grown-ups, it’s time to GROW the FUCK UP.

XOXO

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May 10, 2012


Girl Talk: The Art of the Text

  • One of my girl friends (who shall remain anonymous not to protect the un-innocent but just because I like the sense of intrigue,) recently slept with a guy pretty quickly after meeting him and deciding rapidly that she'd like to bone him. (I've always loved a girl who acts on her impulses and is decisive!) Now in the living Hell of the sex-aftermath (remember my neurosis of epic proportions when I was there about a month ago?) that is "Do I Text Or Do I Wait For Him?"she decided to cut her losses, follow up on it, and texted him to assure him that it wasn't just the al-al-al-al-alcohol and that she didn't (soberly) regret her (drunken) actions. Thusly followed this conversation as she awaited-- with baited breath-- his response. Because yes, women do text our friends after we send a particularly "scary" text to the guy we're into so that someone else gets the blow-by-blow and is subjected to being just as anxious as we are. Because we're GREAT sharers that way. It's a gift. Like the maternal instinct that ends up ruining your child's life.
  • Friend: Really? It's taking him over a half-hour to reply to that?
  • How long was he taking to respond before?
  • Flirtatious Franny: Like, two, three minutes tops.
  • You know how it takes us another friend and hours to craft the perfect text at least two days in advance before sending it? Guys don't have that advantage. He may be working at it right now.
  • Frankly Fair: Haha, yeah, and given that we're the fairer, more intelligent sex, it must take them HOURS.
  • They at least don't confab with friends like we do. Could you imagine that?! "Dude, she said, 'I had a really great time last night.' What does that mean? Did she have like, a really great time, or is she just saying that because she's polite?" It'd never happen.
  • Fickle Floozy: Ok, but seriously, a half-hour to respond to something like that that? Unless your phone has been run over by a T-Rex driving a Mini Cooper I take no excuses.
  • (After receiving and forwarding his non-sequitur answer): How the heck do I reply to that?
  • My suggestion-- don't. You've said your piece. The ball(s) are in his court now.
  • This is the NUMBER ONE thing I try to stress to my friends and other women-- Don't drag a conversation about your state of affairs with a guy out over text. Be like a sexy SWAT team-- get in, locate your target, state what you came for, complete your mission, and then GET THE HELL OUT. It's always better (and far more telling) to let HIM be the one contacting you and getting a hold of you. Like I told my friend, give him a few days now (about 3,) to digest this information and decide how he'll act on that. Afterwards, the amount of time it takes for him to get back in touch-- and the line he takes when he finally does-- will tell you ALL you need to know about his intentions for-- and with-- you. Boom. Case closed.
  • XOXO

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May 25, 2012


Woke up confronted with reality and a closet full of men’s business shirts and slacks. Panic.

XOXO

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June 12, 2012


Flip The Script: Why Feminism Inside Of Dating Needs To Keep On Keeping On.

Here’s what I find so disgusting and unfair about dating: When was the last time two people slept together on the first date, or second date, or relatively shortly after meeting, and the WOMAN thought, “I don’t know…he slept with me pretty quick. Maybe there’s something wrong with him. Maybe he’s a slut. Maybe he’s more booty-call material than relationship material.”

That’s right. NEVER. 

See, women are preconditioned to realize that men have pretty strong libidos. If we sleep with a guy within the first three times we meet/go out with him, society tells us that we should have “waited” if we wanted a real relationship from it, not just a hook-up. It’s OUR fault for wanting and having sex with him if he never calls again, or only starts asking us to come over past 10 PM. It’s not the guy’s fault for pressuring us, awakening our OWN sex drive, and being generally sexy and someone whose D we want to S. Men are conditioned to believe that they can have sex on THEIR sex drive’s terms, and if it happens early, then there’s something “easy” or “non-serious” about the woman. And women? We have to “wait,” or become just a booty-call.

Why should we have to wait to be taken seriously? Why is MY libido a less-serious, more slutty thing than a man’s? My dream man is someone who realizes I am JUST as much, if not MORE of a sexual being than he is, that I have needs, and enjoy having sex with a good partner, and doesn’t judge me and my potential capabilities as a girlfriend, wife, or mother for this. Until then, I’ll sleep with who I want to, when I want to, and hope one day that a man realizes he can make a day-time 5th, 15th, or 155th date with me in advance and know that the sex life will continue, just as hot as it was the first time on our first or second date.

Here’s hoping. In the meantime, why don’t you bring this issue up with your friends, both male and female, and your partners or dates? It’s not going to change unless people start talking about it and confronting our gender and sexual injustice more. I want to be judged for my personality, not my sexuality.

XOXO

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September 4, 2012


Plot-twist: And then I slept with Mountain Man again.

Twig and I haven’t had the monogamy discussion yet (other than conversations about monogamy in the evolutionary biology book “Sex at Dawn” and how ideal relationships take into consideration the fact that humans are not inherently monogamous creatures,) and as we’re both still on OkC (I have recently changed my status to “available,” which isn’t “seeing someone” but also isn’t “single”…go figure that one out…) I figured that sleeping with someone else I used to date was the path of least messy resistance and doesn’t really count. I’ve done the dating thing with MM. I’d never want to again. My romantical feelings for him go about as far as “Your pherenomes don’t make me nauseous, which is more than I can say for some men, and I can still understand how other women find you attractive.” The fact his pants always creep south of his hips still drives me insane and makes me want to punch another hole in his belt. Or just punch him. It’s a very DudeBroManGuy relationship between us now.

It worked out pretty well. We completely skipped over the whole making out part (which I was never a fan of with him) and went straight from bro-ing down and listening to Tool to having sex, and this morning after he kissed me on the cheek good-bye and I wandered into the bathroom for my morning pee, I looked around and thought, “I could never live like this. I have absolutely no more desire to be here or with him romantically. I could live without sleeping with him again. Let’s just go hiking.”

EXCELLENT.

XOXO

P.S— I also attribute this decision based on the fact that on Saturday night, I was the middle of a sandwich between my mother and my friend in a king-size bed in a hotel room after the wedding, and Sunday night, was home alone. I am so straight and so craving of human interaction that both of these incidents totally overwhelmed me and I didn’t sleep well either night. The only other girls I sleep fine next to are my childhood best friend, and Nora. Otherwise, I’m just laying there, thinking, “You should be a man. Or a really nice dog. I only will giving up bed space to attractive things with penises. I really want you to be a man. I really miss sleeping next to a man.”

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