Where it's at

I've developed a new theory. I think Silver Spring (a DC suburb for those non-Washingtonians) contains an abnormally high percentage of bold single men. Most of the men my friends have met and dated recently live in Silver Spring. NotCharlotte flirted with dating a craigslister from Silver Spring. NotCurly danced into the heart of a Silver Spring boy while partying at the Black Cat.

My own Silver Spring experience seems to confirm this theory. A couple of weeks ago I had a long meeting in Silver Spring and decided to walk up to the Avenue shops and grab something different for lunch (different from my usual McPherson Square environment). Anyway, I wandered around looking at my options and finally decided on Chick-fil-a. All of a sudden this guy walks up to me and is like, "Excuse me. I saw you walking down Georgia Avenue [now...at this time I thought he was going to tell me my skirt was ripped or something] and was so amazed that I had to make the block and come find you." Personally, I seriously question his vision. It was really hot that day, and I was (in my opinion) a hot mess. Anyway, he said he just had to give me his card and that he would like to take me out to dinner. I think I was shocked. I can't remember exactly what all sputtered out of my mouth, but I do know the entire interaction was no more than a couple of minutes. I thanked him and said I would email him that night, explaining that I'm an "email" person. You could tell he didn't believe for a second I would email him.

Ya'll don't know me that well, but I'm not big on meeting strangers. First impressions are hard for me and bonding with people upon first meeting them is difficult. I'm more a third impression kind of girl. That said, he was attractive enough and also seemed nervous...like this was something he didn't do all the time. I found that a bit endearing. Plus, his business card indicated he did film stuff (director and editor). I figure this gave us at least had one thing in common. So, I did what any e-savvy girl would do and googled him when I got home (and also looked at his website). What I saw intrigued me, and I appreciated his moxy. I decided to email, and after jumping through some scheduling loopholes, I have a date scheduled for this Friday with NotMoxy. I'll keep you posted. :-)

May December

I stared at my computer screen for at least a minute, trying to make sense of the image in front of me. A picture of the newly married husband and wife. Three days later and no sense has been made. I still can't even wrap my mind around it. I think I've told anyone I can, just to share the craziness and everyone has the same reaction: "EW!"

That's what you say when you hear a girl two years younger than you married your college professor who is at least 60.

EW!!!!

Now, maybe I'm judging the situation quickly because I haven't talked to her in a few years and haven't talked to him in an even longer time, but one thing I do know is that I am not attracted to men older than my father. The very idea kind of grosses me out.

In the past few days, as I have tried to be okay with this, I have had the following thoughts:

-OK, so maybe he's really sweet and they're in love....but in ten years he'll be 70 when she is 34! and when she is 44 he will be 80!!!! And 40 is the new 30, which makes it even worse. I can't knock the mental image of Anna Nicole Smith (RIP) kissing her decrepid, old husband. NOT HOTT!
-OK, so I'll admit some older men have been attractive to me...but they usually don't look their age and also I am not planning on marrying said man, thus beginning the inevitable "when I am this age, he will be reallllly old."
-How did this tryst begin? How do you say, "You were always a great student. I loved your papers! NOW KISS ME!" or "You're a great teacher....that's always been a fantasy of mine..." EW!
-How do you bring your really old boyfriend when you hang out with your friends? Don't old people go to sleep early? And need to drink Metamucil?


What's the biggest age difference you've had between yourself and a suitor? I think for me it's only been a few years. I kind of gave myself a rule that I wouldn't date anyone older than my brother (who is six years older than me). It just seems weird in my mind otherwise. Not that I would turn down someone amazing, but generally speaking, I am NOT a fan of the May-December romance.

NotCarrie

Vegas of the South

My flight had already been delayed five hours when they decided to board us. I was all ready to go, laying my head on the wall by my window seat when I heard the man three rows behind me yell "I'm SIX FOOT SEVEN, there's NO ONE IN THE EXIT ROW. YOU'RE TELLING me I HAVE TO PAY AN EXTRA SIXTY_FIVE DOLLARS TO SIT WHERE MY FEET AREN'T SQUISHED LIKE A FUCKING RAT IN A CAGE?!?"
I sighed and tried to read up on Reese and Jakey. Fifteen minutes after we had all finished boarding, the captain got on the intercom and announced that yes, we had boarded the plane, but unfortunately, we were not taking off for at least another hour. Giant-man sighed extra loudly and we all kind of jostled around in our seats, drinking "free" water and watching Nim's Island. After two more hours of sitting on the plane, we de-boarded, back through one of the gates at the Orlando International Airport, to wait for new, "fresh" flight attendants to fly in from DC and come back with us to our home.
We had about an hour to go, left to fend for ourselves in a near-empty airport, considering it was nearing midnight. I spent my time eating ritz crackers and huddling by a plug, letting my blackberry charge while I complained to my friends and family about how shitty this situation was.
We finally boarded the plane again and somehow this man had not only found two more men, but he had also found himself a lovely seat, in the exit row... right in front of my seat.
Now this wouldn't bother me in normal circumstances, I mean hey I've gotten a free upgrade plenty of times, but I digress.
What bothered me was that he and his dos amigos were drunk. And I'm not talking "woohoo tipsy," I'm talking "OK we're off the plane, let's down as much booze as possible."
These men were in their mid-40s and as I sat there, watching them knock heads and not so subtly hitting on the flight attendants, I started to feel bad for them.
Drunk men have no sense of right or wrong, they simply say what they feel and do what they want, damned if anyone tries to stop them. I looked at them and thought of the many guys I've hung out with when they were in that state of inebriation. And how stupid they were. And how awesome I thought that was. These men sitting in front of me, pouring their drinks all over their chair, the floor, my outstretched legs, these men are the guys I used to hang out with, all "grown up" and I was embarrassed for them! They stood, in turn, and tried to head for the bathroom, instead knocking into the rows next to them, behind them, in front of them, all at once grabbing their temples and poor peoples' armrests, trying to make the floor stop moving.
It was sad and amusing all at the same time.
Amusing because, twenty minutes before landing, they had finally finished their venti cups of rum and pepsi and everything started to hit. They couldn't keep their heads upright, one of them kept muttering "where the fuck is Tyson's?" and they had just finished the "i love you, man!" stage, therefore resulting in their unwillingness to make eye contact with each other.
It was lovely.

I hope they all made it home safely, I didn't want anything bad to happen to them, it just made me reflect on the amount of times I had been around people like that. It made me realize that I, for one, was done hanging out with guys like that.

Just Don't Call It Spooning

It's amazing how quickly a person can get used to sleeping in the same bed as someone else. And by "get used to" I mean "want it all the time".

A Lemming? Who me?

Once again, I've decided to try out online dating services (is it really a service if you don't work with someone?), in order to get a date. Given that I've signed up for OKCupid, Match.com (again) and AdultFriendFinder (again) and haven't heard a peep is sort of discouraging.

OKCupid is the latest and greatest and while I've gotten little to no response to my profile I have been stalked a few times (which is equal parts encouraging and disturbing), I've yet to have someone actually send me a note (or comment, or whatever the hell you get). I'm not going to question my profile, survey or pictures that I have posted, but I'm starting to wonder about my age group and dating. What I mean is:

Have we gotten lazy about the prospect of finding a date?

For example, I've heard of people finding "the One" when they've finally decided to stop looking. Could that be what's happened? Did I miss the boat on the whole movement to officially 'not look' for my person? Not to say that I've been hitting the dating pool every chance I get, but should I even try? In the most lemming of thoughts, because no one else is doing it sounds like a good out right now.

Renovating

Please excuse our mess. The person who designed our blog four years ago didn't get proper permission from the artist to use the lovely images you're used to seeing a the top. We'll be a bit naked but promise to come back with a new and exciting (*cough*) legal design!

Ohhh REALLY?

So I last left you guys with the story of NotGreeny telling me how he'd stop smoking for me. This was back in January, where I think my need for cuddly heat was in higher demand than my need to have a respectable sense of mind, so I believed him. We hung out a few more times and when he asked me to hang out with him on Valentine's Day, I hesitantly said yes. Hesitantly because in my mind, V-Day is kind of a big deal, seeing as how most American's find that the perfect day to give chocolates, cards, and sex.
No, we had not had sex. Nor did I want to have sex with him. I mean, if the kissing was that bad... I think you know where I'm going with this.
Anyway, he asked me to come over around 8 and I had also been invited to an Indie Singles Party at my friend NotMexican's house, which I was going to attend with my best boo NotRVA, so I had a good excuse to leave early, if the situation got to that point.
I arrive at his house promptly at 8, only to find myself calling his cell phone, which seemed to be disconnected. I had never been to his house before, so I had no idea if I was at the right house when all of a sudden he shows up at his front door, on his phone. Weird.
So we go inside and I give him a hug (he did give good hugs, definite bonus) and then we head downstairs to his basement/den/tv room setup.
I'm telling you, if I could have been in a relationship with his den, I would be a happy, happy woman. It was done cabin-style, with wood paneling that made me feel like I was in Denver, not some 70s movie. He had a projection screen set up with a comfy couch and to the right was a raised platform with a huge hot tub filled with pillows.
I was so distracted by the awesomeness that was my future den-bf that I didn't notice the array of goodies that NotGreeny had gotten me. Sitting on a little side table, in careful array, were the following items:
- 1 bouquet of multi colored tulips
- 1 magazine, featuring robots
- 1 gigantic box of chocolates
- 1 mini pack of homemade sushi
My heart sort of melted and I awkwardly said thank you and I sat on the edge of his couch while he set up a movie. He decided we'd watch "Blow," which I had never seen before. No more than 10 minutes into the movie, he decides to attack my face, full force. I kind of go with it for a few minutes, but as soon as he starts kneading one of my breasts like pizza dough, I tell him that I really want to watch the movie.
This happens two more times before I realize, oh hey yeah I need to go.
I grab the flowers and chocolate and bolt. I'm halfway to NotRVA when I get a text "hey you forgot your magazine and flowers, lolz." I ignore it and have a halfway decent time waxing poetic with people in a room holding too many pairs of leggings and just about the same number of neck scarves.
What happens next is when I start to get worried. A few days later I see that his Facebook page has a bit of activity. As in, he has changed his status to "In A Relationship." Surely, he's found someone else? I confront him about this and he goes "Yeah, well you know I wanted you to know that I wasn't interested in anyone else, that I just want to be with you."
I was at a loss for words. So I didn't respond right away. He continues, "So yeah you want me to "add" you?" I told him absolutely not and, in fact, I thought we were better suited as friends. This did not go over well and he proceeded to "ignore" me for the next week and instead show his emotions through Myspace bulletin posts and FB status changes.
Oh, for the love of technologically advanced Millenials.
A few weeks go by and we text a little bit here and there.
April came around and, since he's a graphic designer, I asked him if he would like to design the opening production credit for our budding movie company. He was more than stoked and so was I. I had seen some of his stuff and knew that he could handle what I had in mind.
Until he started talking payment. Keep in mind that the last time I had seen him was VALENTINE'S DAY.
"So when I'm finished, I'll take you out to dinner and then we can hang out at my place and watch movies. Then we'll go up to Great Falls and hang out and it'll be wonderful."
I then realized that the friendship thing probably wasn't going to work out. I was going to have to weigh anchor and let this poor boy sail on without any of NotCharlotte's "good graces" to help him along.
I didn't know what to do in order to get him off my back, so I consulted one of my best guy friends, NotItaliano. He suggested that I tell him I've met someone else. There's no denying the fact that telling NotGreeny I had started dating someone else would show him that I was no longer interested in him.
I decided to tell him this over IM. Our conversation went like this:
Me: NotGreeny, I have to tell you that I've met someone else.
Him: What?
Me: I'm sorry, but I told you awhile ago that we were just going to be friends and I can't have you thinking that we're something more.
Him: I can't handle this right now, I'm going to GameStop.

And that, my friends, is how my fauxlationship went with NotGreeny.

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!

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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...

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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.