Holding, touching, kissing, fingering, licking, sucking, moaning, laughing, screaming, orgasming.

Hot, right? Well now that I’ve gotten you all riled up, I’ll postpone telling you what all of those things have in common until later. First let’s talk magazines.

I compiled this list after I quit reading Seventeen Magazine. I still love their make-up section and some of their real-life articles are really interesting, but I got sick of skipping past the good chunks of pages about prom, college admission anxieties, and high school drama in general.

So in natural progression I thought I’d switch to Cosmo. It’s all the same material but for an 18+ audience right? Well sure it’s 18+, but is it really useful for this 20 year old? Not so much. Turns out, I can’t afford the clothes they advertise, I don’t have to deal with office politics yet, and most of all… I really don’t need their sex tips.

No, I’m not being cocky (you’ll see the irony in that in just a second)

I am a virgin.

No that’s not a typo, no I don’t mean I’m a virgin to reading Cosmo, or an alcohol virgin (lost that one a while ago). What I’m saying is that I still carry around that big fat V-card for the old fashioned no-strings-attached virginity. Read More »

I have been an avid journal writer since I was ten. Even then, there was something so therapeutic about expressing the pains of my pre-teen mind that it literally became like a drug for me. Even if I only wrote three words (such as my first and middle name with my crush’s last name), it had to happen.

I used to hide my little books of craziness around my room so that no one would find them. If anyone got even remotely close to their hidden location I would spaz like there was no tomorrow. No one could read it. No one.

The first time I pulled the old journals out after years of not seeing them— Oh. My. God. I was a freaking looney tune! Reading the entry about losing my virginity? How dramatic can you get? I mean it was dramatic, but you would have thought I was writing Wuthering Heights, or something. I wrote 14 fucking pages. And I shit you not, the guy is in jail now (that was really embarrassing to admit). I mean, I’m so much less dramatic now… seriously.

When I heard about Cringe, a monthly event held at Freddy’s Bar and Backroom in Brooklyn, NY, I couldn’t believe that people actually did this. Cringe allows anyone in the room to get up on stage in a room jam packed with people, and read your old diaries, letters, poems—anything cringe-worthy basically. The event has become so popular, it’s hard to get in the door now. Read More »