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!

O!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

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*

I deserve so much bigger...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

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.

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 overrated...at 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.

Night!

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.

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?

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.

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.

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 Harley...is 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 ;-)

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.

Snoop

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.

Between a mistake and a hard place

I ran into a mistake on Friday evening. As I was wandering through the exhibits at Artomatic with a group of friends and the current NotDarling, I caught my mistake strolling through my peripheral vision. The pace of my breathing increased, and my hands got all jittery and hyper. This was not the reaction of an excited girl, but rather the adrenalin of being faced with the inevitable. Despite it's size, Washington D.C. really is a small town, and mistakes can only be avoided for so long.

The mistake in question was a short, odd-looking fellow who fancied himself a mediocre photographer. He sought me out online via this blog (and I believe Flickr) and eventually took our relationship into weird text-sex territory. The burden is not entirely on my mistake. I readily went along for the exciting ride even though I knew he had a girlfriend, and even though I had begun dating someone else. He had a way with words, and I considered it harmless. Harmless turned into a few notes left in bookstores and the eventual discussion of when talk would end and action would replace it. After months of teasing, I decided to take my mistake up on his offer and meet him at his apartment for porn and sex. I have never before gone into a situation with only the basest of needs and no desire whatsoever to get to know or like the person I was meeting. Needless to say, this was not the makings of the best situation. To make a long story short, I did not fuck him. I think neither of us were what the other expected. We had each seen pictures, and I knew he was not what I would look for physically. However, the personality also did not match the person who had pursued me online either. The confident guy who talked of doing many, many things to me was really a shy giggler who would not shut up. He was overconfident in all the things he should not have been overconfident in. After about 30 minutes of listening to him, we both knew this was going nowhere. So, I left. Angry. The troops I had waiting in the wings swooped in for their extraction, and I learned a valuable lesson.

(1) This was not me. Not really. I felt guilt going in. I felt guilt while I was there. And, I felt guilt afterwards. (2) This was not the kind of guy I would ever associate with. It was just all a mistake.

All of my friends knew about the mistake, even NotDarling. Knowing I had told NotDarling about it, however, made Friday worse. There was no interaction between me and my mistake, but I knew NotDarling knew about it and was judging me. That, my friends, was hardest to take.

Totally Natural

I just can't write the salacious details I want...I'm sorry. I just can't. I guess mostly because the anonymity of this site is gone and while it's not my face accompanying these posts, it is no secret for some who I am and who the subjects of my posts would be about. And while I do share things with friends about my life, those aren't the only people who may read here. I would rather not give the details to those people I don't even like.

With that said...


The other night I was hanging out with two guy friends and before we commenced our beer drinking, they were playing music (guitar and drums). I enjoy watching people play even if it is difficult to not give my 'professional' opinion and want to jump in on an instrument of my own. It can be so eye opening to hang out with just guys sometimes, though. The testosterone that builds is so funny. Luckily, I am totally able to "be one of the guys" (while still being a lady and desirable, of course). I love to see them practically bump chests when they make a good joke, but then a split second later hold the door for me. Or how they give me the better beer or pour one of the darker ones into a glass so it will taste better. And meanwhile they're talking smack on the "dumb blonde" who works at the bar. I like that they can be themselves around me. I had a lot of guy friends in college and, while I love my chick friends, too, it's been nice to get closer to some guys lately.

But we'll never go shopping together. They just wouldn't understand!

Sex and the City - The Movie

You knew we'd mention it eventually! With the movie right around the corner, it gives us all a chance to relive the fun and drama we experienced with the series. I, personally, am looking for any chance to drool over Chris Noth. Despite the name and premise of this blog, we are not some weird fanatics. The series just provided such great eye candy (hello...the city...the fashion...the men) and a chance have someone else act out and analyze our issues.

Anyway, on to more important things...parties. What better way to enjoy the show than with a cosmo? After noticing the Austin Alamo Drafthouse was showing the movie complete with the cosmo experience, I decided that we (the Not girls) needed to find the right DC experience. What did I find? Absolutely nothing. No bars, no alternative theaters...DC seems to care about nothing but the upcoming election. However, if you live just about anywhere else in the U.S., someone is looking out for you. Just check out the special SATC premiere parties happening across the country...

• Party it up at Blu Sushi in Naples, Florida.
• The Centaur Bar in Detroit, Michigan is even raffling off a pair of Manolos.
• Bid on a pair of tickets to the NYC premiere. The proceeds benefit Oxfam (great organization, btw).
• In Dallas, even the big D has a party.
• Kansas City is celebrating Sex and the City passion party-style.
• I have a feeling the place to be and be seen with be the NYC premiere party on the 27th. Radio City Music Hall and MoMA. Holla.
• Columbus, Ohio is premiering the movie on the 27th and streaming the NYC premiere. Then head over the Bar of Modern Art on the 29t for a kickin' party.

So what are we doing? Well, I do believe we'll be settling into a nearby bar with cosmos and long islands prior to heading to the local midnight premiere. If you want to join us, drop a comment.

Share your love

Do you have a love story to share? Send yours to Camille Riley and participate in her latest project.

I don't know about you, but I love a good love story (but won't read your standard "romance" novel any longer). Also, want a bit of inspiration? Check out the amazing photography project called The Ones We Love. I'm trying to figure out what kind of portfolio I can put together, so they'll allow me to participate :-)

Nice guy syndrome

I just got my knickers in such a twist at work that I had to take a break and rant about it. Excuse me while I get up on my soapbox.

(clears throat)

I am TIRED of nice guys and the nice guy excuse! The nice guy who won't make the first move seems to be all I'm surrounded by. I am even going to remove myself and the boys who enthrall me from the equation. Let me just talk about the boy friends that I have and the women who are smitten with them. When will these men learn that being nice isn't an excuse for a lack of balls? Yes, we understand that you're afraid of rejection and lack confidence just like women, but has this become a pandemic? Are men putting their foot down and refusing to make the first move, preferring to remain single and celebate (with the exception of their hand)? You know what...I could even accept that. Lay down the law and say you're tired of bearing all of the burden of the chase. However, don't say that the reason you're single and can never find a girl is because you are too nice. Perhaps the reason you're single is because you need to grow a pair.

Ho’s before bros?

I used to think of myself as a diehard girlfriend. Down for any type of adventure and always up for the new and exciting. Especially, when it came to hanging out with my girls. Lately, however, I've been feeling none to friendly and even less inclined to do the new and tingly things with anyone including my girls. While the Nots have been out doing things with each other, I've been doing my thing over here, and trying to jumpstart my non-existent social calendar. This did get me to thinking about friendships and girlfriends and boyfriends.

Where does your friend stand while you're getting into a relationship?

There's no pause button on a friendship. And often times you may want to establish yourself in the relationship with your person before introducing them around to friends and sometimes family. Do you need to vett the new entry into your life to make sure they're capable of handling their own? And while I wish this was my problem its not, I don't have a significant other I'm trying to work into my regular life. I just have a lot of questions about what to do when I do.

NS

The living dead

Nah, we're not dead. Since we last left you, life has gone on. The girls persevere, and the stories get dished about over caffeine. I, personally, think the stories have gotten a lot more interesting. I'm hoping I get drunk and bored one night and write them all out here. A self-appointed, drunken historian.

I'm trying to get myself back in the hang of blogging here again, so pardon the brief synopsis. Life has been hectic. Boys have been only on my periphery lately as my mind has been occupied by my grandmother being really sick and finishing up a thesis.

I suppose this will have to suffice for a new beginning.