Friday, June 27, 2008

Gold digger

When the girl at my leasing office handed me the unmarked package, I giggled a little. I then slid the package under my arm and trotted off to play naughty Santa and deliver part of the contents to NotCarrie and NotSamantha.

Maybe giggling isn't the response a sophisticated woman would have. She might take the box upstairs and add its content to her growing collection. She would probably send a proper email to her girls letting them know the contents had arrived. I am not a sophisticated woman. I am girl who has never* owned a sex toy and thought the arrival of said toys was hilarious. I am not a one-at-a-time emotion kind of girl and was feeling nervous/excited/curious/adventurous. So, like any nervous/excited/curious/adventurous girl with a hilarious box in her hand, I needed share the moment with my compadres.

When I finally made it back home a few hours later, I took Gold Digger out of the package and set it on my coffee table. I'm pretty sure I cocked my head to the side as I eyed this smooth six-inch faux wang with a few gold studs at the base.

It has been a while since I have gotten some action, and I have found that on the nights when I get more sleep and can remember my dreams they have typically been about my obtaining said action from various guys. Despite my subconscious telling me I clearly had needs to fulfill, I approached my faux wang from a bit like a researcher approaches a stem cell.

Switching vibe speed appeared easy enough, since it just required slight movement of the base. Was I ready to test drive it? Hell, was I even in the mood after being so empirical? I will readily admit that the six inches scared me a bit. I probably made every guy's day who has an average weenie. The thing is, I learned that I don't need it supersized after my first visit to the gyno where they had to bust out the small contraption.

What did I learn from Gold Digger?

(1) Had my high school boyfriend and I actually had sex his nine-inch penis would have probably killed me;

(2) When used at high speed, all I could think about was whether my neighbors thought I bought a motorboat; and

(3) Maybe it should have been called the Silver Digger.

*The vibrating duck NotSamantha got me for my 29th birthday doesn't count. It's a duck!

Wednesday, June 25, 2008


When we were first presented with list of products from which to choose for review, I, for some reason, chose the Vibrating O Sleeve. I guess I like a challenge, eh?

While, unlike NotSamantha, I am not going to be giving out perky nipples for this product, but I will give some words of advice:

1. Do not get the product from your friend* while at work where just about anyone could see what is passing hands**. This could result in extreme embarrassment, a gnarly rumor, or tears from laughing so hard.
2. I would suggest using the Vibrating O Sleeve with someone you are very comfortable with. It's a tricky moment to introduce this in the bedroom without offending your mate. "Here honey, put this on your wang to make it longer! AND it widens the girth!" "Gee...thanks."
3. Also keep in mind that you might need to loosen him up a little bit before you suggest he put this on. While it's soft and durable, I can see how it would look like a painful contraption to some.
4. This is almost like a two in one product. No, three in one. You can use it alone, you can use it with him, or he can use it on you. Reow!
5. Did I mention the end vibrates on contact?

Best of luck,


*The products were sent together, to NotMiranda, who then distributed them to us.
**Why does that sound so dirty?

Monday, June 23, 2008

Let's not and say we did?

Shortly after NotHarry and I stopped talking to each other, I started dating one of his friends, NotGreeny. He was younger than me (21 to my 24), an art student/graphic designer, and came from a rich family.
Who was I to argue when he asked me out?
Ignoring my friends' newfound nickname of "Cougar," I went to a diner with him, where we proceeded to have a pretty good time, laughing about mutual movie interests and music. He told me I was saved in his phone as the character I dressed as for Halloween and I thought it was endearing. He gave good hugs, opened doors for me, even let me order my food first. In all, it wasn't a bad date.
We made plans for a second meeting, this time he came over to my house, since I was having one of my traditional Wine & Board Game Nights. He arrived earlier than the other guests and we sat on my couch watching Freaks & Geeks and behaving like high schoolers. He did the whole "scoot an inch closer every time I coughed" move, then slowly grabbed for my hand. It felt cute and innocent. Then he finally went in for the kill.
He attacked my face like a seal does fish. He pretty much wrapped his entire mouth around mine, bordering on sealing my nostrils in his gaping maw, darting his tongue in and out of my mouth with the voracity of an out of sync metronome. After about 30 seconds of this, I backed away, telling him to slow it down a little. We went back to watching tv, me finding little ways to wipe the spittle off my face and him grinning at me like he thought I wanted it.
Soon after that, my friends arrived and I was relieved. We sat in my living room, playing our favorite games and having a good time. NotGreeny stands up and declares he is going to the convenience store for cigarettes and he would be back soon. We all sort of shrug and continue our intense round of Apples to Apples, not thinking much of it.
About 20 minutes later, he comes back in and sits down. A familiar, yet uninviting smell trails in with him and my close girl friend NotTypeA looks at me and mouths "Pot?"
Indeed, she was right. NotGreeny had decided to take it upon himself to sit in his car, in the middle of my stuck up, middle class neighborhood, and smoke up.
From this point on, my friends were pretty rude to him and I couldn't make eye contact with him. About an hour later, after much chiding from my buds that he couldn't even participate in the game because he was so stoned, he decided to leave. I walked him to the door and he apologized, saying my friends made him feel really uncomfortable. I told him they had every right to feel uncomfortable, he violated my trust and my values. He knew about my no tolerance policy when we were just friends, yet he was so concerned about his "well being" that he didn't think it would matter.
I went back to my party and we continued our game. I got a text from NotGreeny a little bit later saying "I'll quit smoking for you, that's how much you mean to me."
I guess I was feeling nice, so I gave him a second chance. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a good idea...

*to be continued*

Sunday, June 22, 2008

I deserve so much bigger...

Disclaimer: This post may cause a spit take, so mind your monitor while sipping your tea, coffee, etc. while reading.

As explained by NotMiranda, we girls have been given the opportunity to review products from the website. So this is my first review of the product that I chose to test.

I picked the Jollie dildo. And now another disclaimer: I'm a vibe girl, so take this with a huge grain of salt.

Now while I'm a self respecting size queen, I was willing to give the 4-inch insertable a try. When held backwards and upright, it resembles a loaded shotgun. And it was with tongue in cheek that I hoped it would go off (or at least get me off) with a minimum of fuss. It's made of medical grade silicone and comes in a myriad of colors and styles (Babeland only carried grape, so I wasn't able to see if the nubblies of the bubble one added and additional sensation to the product). I tried it out on two separate occasions.

If you remember from this blog, I have an extensive collection of porn and I like my movies, which means that at least one hand has to be free to do some walking when playing with a new toy. While the Jollie is easily insertable (eventually, I'd like to see how their lube holds up to what I have), and does hit all of the spots the map on the back of its container says it will, I felt it required more than one hand to get the full function of it. The 'easy-grip handle' is not easy to grip when coated with lube (and other liquidy things, of which I won't mention in detail) and the nubbies on the side that are for clit stimulation don't do much for me. However, the g-spot hump that's built into the Jollie makes it worth the work…somewhat.

I have to agree with one of the reviewers on the site that making it slightly longer (or much much longer in my case) would be a vast improvement to the Jollie…also a little vibrating action (otherwise known as the Vibrating Jollet) wouldn't go amiss. I give this toy a 3.5 out of 5 perky nipples for interesting design and the ability to mostly do what its designed for. I'll consider the vibrating version of this if I ever come back to the product.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

An adventurous new spirit

Sometimes certain things happen to you that just make you shake your head and laugh. It's usually these life experiences that I chalk up to being the makings of a good story.

Our life story here recently got more interesting when we were approached by the folks at Babeland about testing a few of their products. Don't get me wrong, we have been approached by a wide variety of outfits (mostly promoting DVDs or lingerie or new sex toys), and we have never before considered partnering or linking or promoting any of them. We're not here to make money or to sell anything, so there was never any appeal.

Babeland, however, was different. First, here was a company with a good social conscious that we could actually support. They are at the top of their game and actually care about their customers. Plus, we're not stupid. We really couldn't turn down free toys even though the very thought that anyone would think our opinions on this subject mattered cracked us up! Personally, I can't think of a better story for explaining a suddenly large sex toy collection.

Despite the laughter and the disbelief, we agreed. So, periodically you will start to see "reviews" of certain toys on this site. What you won't see is a traditional review. We really aren't trying to sell you anything and just figure we owe you an honest opinion about the latest merchandise in the form of our stories and shenanigans. If you happen to buy it, then more power to you.

Monday, June 16, 2008

If Only...

I would like for there to be a boy on my bed who would keep me up all night even though I have to be to work at 7am. Sleep is seriously least for a night. That's the real reason to take a nap in the afternoon. Mmmmhmm.

But alas, I think I will be sleeping alone tonight. I'm probably never going to get any sleep once I don't have roommates, haha.


Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Its all about me...

I don't see anything wrong with wanting to have a go with two guys at once.

In fact, I think I'll make that my goal this year.

Sunday, June 08, 2008

The Best And Worst Of It

I keep getting invitations on Facebook to take those likeness quizzes, which are always about sex. Why is that, anyway?

It got me thinking, though. What is the worst thing to happen while having sex? Or, where is the best place to makeout? Or even, ways to get rid of a bad date.

So here are my thoughts on the matters at hand. Some are from the actual pages, but some I'm just saying on my own. And omg don't even try to think these things have necessarily happened to me. Please add your own thoughts in the comment section.

Worst Things To Happen While Having Sex:
  • Someone walks in (especially a relative).
  • Someone yells the wrong name (Just don't yell names, ok?)
  • Dog starts to hump, too. (This was on the FB one. OMG, I would die. That's disgusting.)
  • He turns out to be a she...or vice versa.
  • Someone has a gastrointestinal problem. (EW)
  • Fall off the bed and gets hurt.
  • Someone has to vomit.

Best Places To Makeout:

  • On a couch.
  • On a pier.
  • In a car.
  • Elevator
  • Pool/Ocean/Hot tub
  • Wait, where is it NOT good to makeout? As long as it's not excessively PDAish, right?

Ways To Get Rid Of A Bad Date:

  • Sick
  • Be honest
  • Change the clocks so it seems later.
  • Food poisoning

Ways To Be Turned On:

  • Slow, Intent Kissing
  • Porn (Not for this girl, though. No thank you.)
  • Back rub/Massage
  • Dirty Talk (This can so border on funny, though.)
  • Holding Hands
  • Alcohol

So...what do you have to add to the lists?

Friday, June 06, 2008

Get your flirt on...

I'm usually not one to flirt. Very unNotSamantha of me I know, but tonight when the last thing on my mind was flirting and showing interest in a guy I end up doing it anyway.

Work this week had been hell and all I wanted was a glass of wine, a good dinner and some great conversation with NotAMystic. Since work was shot and according to NAM I was in for at least another week of it, "because Mercury is in retrograde, take deep breathes and bear with it," when our waiter finally came by I upgraded my wine to a martini and decided that if for no other reason I would get some comfort food out of this meal.

An introduction of the special and a delivered martini later and I was ready to detox. Our waiter kept us both entertained and for me, intrigued. A rare sort who actually smiled with his whole face instead of the polite smile that those who work in the restaurant biz often have. And trust me when I say I'm no soft touch when it comes to service. I like my glass kept full, my waiter to be un-intrusive and my meal to be hot when it reaches my table. Outside of that, I don't have much else that needs to be taken care of.

Tonight's server, however, proved that it is possible to combine charisma with style and a mild dose of flirting and get something that appeals to this woman. Speaking of the waiter, he was a fine specimen. Tall, broad of shoulder, bright of smile and he even had glasses, I couldn't tell if he passed the other physical factor of lack of body hair, but in my mind's eye I pictured him without it. When I first rushed in he was there to actually adjust the table and even put my napkin in my lap, that was a first, so a raised eyebrow for that one. Throughout the meal and he came by and struck up not one but two conversations and asked more questions about me, than what kind of coffee I wanted with dessert. By the time I was leaving for the evening, he made sure to stop by and ask that I come back again soon. Now, I'm sure he's got tips to make (and boy did I tip him!), but I can catch a hint, even when its lobbed as lightly as his was.

So, if you can't find me next Friday, I'll be going back to my restaurant and getting a seat in his section, this time by myself to see if this same waiter/patron chemistry is real or just a figment of my man hungry imagination.

Thursday, June 05, 2008

Second time's the charm...

I have returned. Life these past few months have been crazy. Both in good and bad ways, but in general I'm doing great. I've learned so much about myself and about who I want to be with, who I want my friends to be, even how I specifically like my coffee, that I felt it was time to come back and share some of my thoughts with you all again.

I'm no longer with NotHarry. I really don't want to talk about what happened between us. I think you all remember how I left this blog and that's one chapter that will remain closed.

That being said, I will share with you one of my new favorite "bad date" stories that I have endured the past few weeks:

Last Thursday I had the pleasure of a second date with NotPilot. We had met the previous Friday at Artomatic in dc and there was a little fizzling of chemistry, so the next obvious step was to meet again. He asked me out to dinner and I consented.
We met at one of my favorite restaurants and sat outside with some drinks. Conversation went okay, he alarmed me with a 15 minute rant about adoption, followed by a blatant disregard for my questioning his religious attendance to a Unitarian Church when he is a "fierce" Athiest. He then asked me what my favorite position was.
I replied "Moderate."
I ordered food, in hopes of at least getting a free meal out of this ordeal, and I thought things were getting a bit better because he seemed interested at my vast knowledge of flying, something of which he considers hinself an expert on.
Then it happened. I was happily enjoying my cheese & onion enchiladas and was telling him a story about my future puppy procurement when he interrupted me with "You've got some food on your cheek." Before I had time to react with my napkin, he licks his thumb (and I mean a full-on lick, tongue out of the mouth, if it was a cartoon I would have heard the SLURRRP) and WIPES THE MINISCULE AMOUNT OF SAUCE OFF OF MY CHEEK.
I stopped mid-sentence and sort of stared at him, wiping his thumb spit off of my cheek with my clean napkin.
"Sorry, I'm a touchy person," he said meekly, pushing his food around with his fork.
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting your spit on my face on the second date."

I needed that. It's good to be back.

Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Limiting factors

Shouldn't there be a statute of limitations on our issues finally revealing themselves? I am the child of a divorce that left me essentially without a father. He split in the middle of the night when I was 5...didn't really visit...then died when I was 13. Yadda yadda yadda. I've been pretty up on most of the issues this has resulted in, but within the past year I have noticed yet another development.

I seem to have developed an interest in older men. I know this isn't all that unusual and that it's common for women to sometimes seek out their "father" in their dating life, but shouldn't this have manifested much earlier? To date, I have been more well known for my liaisons with younger men. However, within the past year, I have found myself flirting with men who have more silver hair on their head than not.

The latest manifestation of this has been my grandmother's occupational therapist. I met him last time I was in Texas and was immediately attracted to his sarcasm and motorcycle. I'm currently back in Texas for a two-week stint and was veritable wreck at my grandmother's therapy session today. I put on makeup (me...the girl who only wears makeup when she's going "out") and found myself giggling at his jokes. I would vacillate between this and trying not to focus on him because I felt so transparent. The true horror of the situation hit home when I heard my mom giggling along beside me.

Immediate thought: OMG. I am interested in the same guy my mom is.

Don't get me wrong. He's attractive...has tattoos...drives a amazing with my grandmother...has amazing eyes. But (and this is a big 'but') he is also divorced and has a teenage son. He is definitely more in my mom's age ballpark than mine. Talk about a wake-up call.

Do I see myself changing? Probably not. I'm at a great age where both younger and older don't seem ridiculous. God, I love my early 30s. As long as they can keep up with me, then why not ;-)

Monday, June 02, 2008

Everything I know I learned from SATC…

This was going to be a post about my recent vacation, but then I realized that the with the movie of the series that gave this blog its claim to fame that maybe a post in honor of that would be better. Please note that some of the below could be a spoiler to you if you have not yet seen the new movie.

So of the many episodes of the show and finally the movie I've learned many things that I would like to impart here:

  1. Never underestimate the power of a really good martini.
  2. A good pair of 4 inch heels will never let you down.
  3. Breaking up via post-it note is frowned upon.
  4. If you keep bumping into him at places you go with your friends don't fight the fever, date him already.
  5. Don't let a lazy ovary and one nut get the best of your reproductive rights.
  6. Comparing your love life to chemo therapy is a sure sign its time to get out.
  7. Just because good things are happening to you doesn't mean you won't Poughkeepsie in your pants.
  8. Boys will be boys, girls will be girls, but friends who will help you pack up 18 years of your life are forever.

I've been blogging with three wonderful women and no matter our ups and downs we've managed to come full circle, so in our lives, this blog and wherever else we may go, that won't ever change.


Cosmo had an article about snooping on your boyfriend. While I'm all about a spy mission, this bothered me LIKE WHOA! I am hoping they wrote the article in jest, but I am sure some women will be tearing out the pages to use as a guide. They suggested such things as looking in his cell phone and checking his email account as well as googling his prescription meds to see what his deal is.

Now, I have of course been an observant girl in my time and noticed things like, "Is there only 1 toothbrush?" and "Is there lipstick on that glass?" but I have never and will never snoop in a guy's email or go through his sock and underwear drawer. I think the second I do that, then it's free reign to look in mine and hell to the no do I not want that happening!

And whatever happened to trust? Sure, it will fuck you over sometimes, but I'd still rather not be a cynical human being. Bad move, Cosmo.