I know I am not a slut, but is it possible to enjoy myself without others labeling me that way?
Yeah, I’ll admit it. Relative to the other women in my circle of college friends, I’m who people would call “the slutty one” because I’ve been with the most number of men. I don’t mind making out with a random stranger for fun and I’ll stay the night at his place if I’m looking for a change of atmosphere. Yes, I’m a slut.
What would you do if your ultimate celeb crush came along, totally DTF, and he was sporting more than you bargained for? Would you tell him to move along? Or would you gamely explore foreign territory? While we can't coach you through the make-it or break-it moment, we can give you the dirt on who has an elephant trunk in their pants...and who doesn't.
Let me begin by thanking Cosmopolitan magazine for being the basis of my sex education knowledge. My conservative mother would not sign the “allow your child to take the sex ed” waiver…so I had to turn to Cosmo in the midst of my confusion and all of my wildest sexual fantasies were brought to life, or at least written on a shiny page.
Everyone knows that sex without a condom is better than with that thin latex lining. According to guys it “feels amazing” and is “probably the best thing on earth.” (Clearly, guys have never tried dipping pretzels into frosting....) But we also know that no matter how good it is, it isn’t good enough to risk getting pregnant and spending our days playing peek-a-boo instead of beer pong.
For many students, college, like Las Vegas, is the land of indulgence. From the all-you-can-eat buffets in the cafeteria to the endless kegs at house parties, if you want something, you got it. Here. Now. Until you burst (or barf). And that goes for hooking up, too.
Feb 15, 2011
I was with my boyfriend for three months the first time sex (and, simultaneously, something else, if you know what I'm sayin'....) presented itself. It was his birthday, we were in his bed, neither of us were wearing clothes, and after an hour of a whole lot of other stuff, I was ready for it. And it was my first time.
Feb 8, 2011
I like sex. A lot. I like trying fun new positions and having sex in fun new places. Hell, I've made it through 174.5 of the positions in "Sex 365 - A Position for Every Day" (the half was due to an ill timed Charley horse that left my partner bleeding profusely from the nose...) and I've even dabbled in a little role playing.
Jan 26, 2011
Besides all the glitz, glamour and fancy trends those 100-pound fashion magazines are pushing on you this season, there are eight things you must have in your closet (not counting undies, bras and socks, of course).
The beginning stages of a new relationship are always the best. Thinking about the other person gives you butterflies, every date is an exciting new adventure, and you aren’t close enough for him to start discussing his farting habits with you.
Would You Rather there be a beer that had zero calories or a beer that didn't give you a hangover the next day? Things to Consider: Beer gut, how many calories are in a $1 pitcher, the way you feel at 9am on Sunday morning.
OK, so clearly it's impossible to be both single and in a relationship (unless you're Tiger Woods or Jesse James, I guess...), but it's true. And it's the best and longest relationship I've ever had in my life.
Would you rather have Aunt Flo come for a surprise visit while you're donning your hottest, tightest, cutest brand new white jeans at the family BBQ OR have her show up when your long distance boyfriend comes to visit for the first weekend in months?
Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I wake up and head to the gym. (OK, so sometimes those Sunday morning workouts don't happen, but I digress....) Sometimes, I will take a class or meet with a Pilates instructor. Usually, however, I hop onto the elliptical, set my iPOD to F-U-N and set myself up for a 45 minute cardio challenge.
I've been to many sorority date parties in my college career and I can say there is nothing sloppier. For those of you who aren't part of the Greek Life crew on your campus, sorority and fraternity date parties usually go something like this:
It looks like genetics have screwed me again. A new study out of Cornell has proven the obvious that big boobs mean bigger tips for waitresses.
I always knew I had an addictive personality. To be fair, though, for awhile I thought that meant that other people were addicted to my personality: my sense of humor, my charming ways, my gift giving skills... But then I got to college, smoked my first cigarette outside of a frat party...
Part of me wants to hate this, to write it off as yet another stereotypical portrayal of women by loser guys trying to make a funny YouTube video. But another part, a larger and less feminist part that might still be drunk from last night, can't stop laughing.
So, I'm dealing with a really bad breakup right now. No, my boyfriend didn't dump me - that would require me to have had a boyfriend in the first place. But my very good guy friend did dump his very serious girlfriend and now I'm left in the middle.
I don't make resolutions for the new year. Not only do I know I will not keep them, but I also know that anything important enough to give up on December 31st should probably be given up on any other day. I tried to give up cake once - what a disaster. Just knowing the 31st was coming and that I would soon be without my beloved buttercream sent me on a downward spiral that resulted with me, a fork and a missing Costco sheet cake.
Like most weekends, I spent my Saturday afternoon curled under a blanket in front of my TV. But unlike most weekends, I spent my Sunday buying a 3-pack of pregnancy tests, running home, chugging a bottle of water, and taking every last one.
With the exception of a short love affair that ended via email (which the boy addressed to Natalie), I've been single for a long three years. And I've been totally OK with that for the most part. I've really gotten to figure myself out; my good qualities (I'm incredibly generous to those I love) and my not-so-good qualities (I'm what some people might refer to as a judgmental bitch).
I love clothes. I have a closet full of them. And 2 dressers. And an underbed storage thingy. Yet, when it comes to getting dressed I tend to go for the same things every time. I don't know if it's laziness or just a lack of creativity, but I always find myself in the same outfit: a black shirt and jeans.
Sometimes you need a glass of wine. And sometimes - like after you come home from bombing an exam to find an email from your long distance boyfriend saying he "just can't do it anymore" and you knock a glass of water onto your brand new MacBook - you need a lot more.
Long distance relationships suck. End of story. But what about semi-long distance relationships? You know, the guys who live all the way on the other side of campus. Sure, it may only be a mile but that's like having hoes in different area codes when you're in college. There are different restaurants over there, different bars; it's a whole new world.
College is full of trial and error. And sadly we find ourselves running into a lot more error than we desire. Being stood up by that guy who we thought was really into us rings a bell. As does spending an entire night and next morning (okay and maybe the afternoon too) puking our guts out.
Yes, that's exactly what it looks like. If it looks like a sex toy, that is. If one tongue (attached to one man) isn't enough for you, now you can have lots and lots of tongues coming at your lady parts in rapid succession.
Like most women, I get a little horny sometimes. (And like all women, I wish there were a less disgusting term to use to describe that phenomenon.) The fact is, I have needs and it gets a little old to be using a battery operated machine to fulfill them all the time.
I don't trust people who aren't on Facebook. It's weird, I know, but FB is like peanut butter and jelly: you must be some sort of freak if you've never tried it. (OK, or you have some severe allergy, but that doesn't fit with my analogy so let's move on.) Facebook is at the epicenter of our generation's world, so anyone who isn't on there is weird, right?
While hanging out with some girlfriends this weekend, the topic of conversation kept coming back to porn. It wasn't shocking to be discussing such a taboo topic (in graphic detail), but I was shocked to find out that I'm the only one who doesn't watch it regularly.
I recently met someone who made me swoon. He's tall, funny and incredibly handsome. We have a million things in common and have a great time when we're together. I feel the butterflies when I'm with him and always look forward to when I'll see him again. After meeting douchebag after douchebag, this is what I've been waiting for and I should be happy.
Introducing: Sexlets. Gum that freshens your man's beer breath while also sending some serious blood flow to his little friend downstairs. This gum promises pearly whites...and longer sexcapades. Can Trident do that? I don't think so.
When I first heard that Joe Jonas couldn’t keep it together post break up with girlfriend Camille Belle and sobbed on stage during a show, I thought it was adorbs. A guy who is in touch with his emotions and willing to let it all out in front of 25,000 people? Be still my heart.
Ever since I heard about this "Bachelor for real people" I was intrigued. Having grown up overweight (and not had my first kiss until the ripe age of 18!), I really got behind a show that didn't focus on looks and really just gave everyone a chance at love. Or as much "love" as you can get by meeting someone through a reality show on Fox.
Not gonna lie...this summer hasn’t been the friskiest for me. And I know this may sound creepy, but I feel like that guy from Superbad when he’s telling his friend that as a kid he went through a stage where he just couldn’t stop drawing penises. They were just, like, always on his mind.