Okay, I’m all for showing off your loved one but I feel like all the time, err, sometimes people just take it too far. The end result is that your really cute kissing picture with the sunset behind you looks like something my 18-year-old sister would smack on the wall of her college dorm. Then she and all her friends can dream of finding a love like that. Oh, boo.
Confession time. A big part of the reason I'm such a TV addict is I because I love the romcom romances that these TV shows feed their viewers. I love the will they won't they of it. The build up. The cute scenes. The perfect moments. And yes the perfect kisses, which prove that if you try hard enough good chemistry can in fact, be faked.
After four long and frustrating years of sexual tension, my high school crush and I finally had our first hot makeout sesh the first week of college. That is if you consider making out with some nature special about tarantulas playing in the background to be hot. Regardless, it happened and I was oh so excited.
Ever since I flipped through the many college brochures in high school, I had my own college fantasy. I saw frat boys making out with sorority girls under a sycamore tree in the quad a Sports Illustrated swimsuit poster while double-fisting a Coors. It's a strange college ideal, but let's face it: in college, hooking up comes as natural as canning two Red Bull 30 minutes deep into a study session.
Dude, I have this co-worker that we have been close friends for about 3 years. We live in different areas and are in different offices for the same company. Anyway, about 6 months ago we started flirting and he said that he has always liked me and been attracted to me, stated that he was shy and that it was why he never said anything before...
Was there anything more exhilarating, more energizing, more exciting than grilling a friend over AIM in 7th grade about what base she got to with her boyfriend? Of course at that point, first base was getting matched up with a guy during an intensive game of M.A.S.H, second base was making out in the back row of a movie theater while your friends sitting next to you giggled, and third base was letting him feel your training bra over your shirt.
In my history of interaction with the opposite sex, I have found the first to be true. Since I started dating the guy that would be come my long-term boyfriend of three years right before my Junior year of high school, there has been a steady stream of guys coming and going in my life. (Insert dirty pun here?) Whether we were just "talking," dating, or hooking up, I've seldom gone a few months without any kind of male interest.
As 2009 was coming to a close I vowed that I'd make some big changes for the year to come, namely to act like the adult that I am and not like the rockstar college girl I once was. I told myself I'd drink more responsibly, that I didn't need to get drunk to have fun, and that I might finally be at the age when dancing on stages is no longer socially acceptable.
The first time I ever grilled my own burgers was for a boy that I loved. I wanted so badly to impress him, that when I realized we were the only two people on campus for summer term I invited him over for dinner and Sangria on the porch. I spent all day shopping and preparing.
This week I'm focusing on the "click click flash" that consumes your weekend. You go out, someone inevitably breaks out the camera (every 4 minutes) and you start posing like you're ready for the cover of Nylon. Great idea, but these pictures are going to end up on Facebook for the world to see the next day when you're sober. Oof.
You’ve been working your game all night, leaning in just enough to show off the magic that is your Victoria’s Secret Deep Plunge push-up bra. Your hair is perfect, your makeup is flawless and you’ve done your signature laugh-and-touch-his-arm move every time he’s said something cute and funny.
After four outfit changes, 3 drinks and two near faceplants on the sidewalk (thank you, heels), you finally make it to the party. You’ve got a good buzz going, and an even greater cleavage situation thanks to Victoria and her secrets.
So you're on your way to Sexy Town with your boy. There is heavy petting, clothes are flying around the room and you're reeling to go when - oh no - he can't...do it. He keeps trying to get things working, but it's too late. The "moment" is lost.
Dear Drunk Girl, Hi sweetie. Long time no see. I take that back. I saw you last Friday. Same place, same hazy look in your eyes, different black dress that falls down to expose your bra. This one doesn’t have vomit on it… yet! Congratulations.
I hadn’t known John* very well, so when I got a text at 11pm saying “I’m bored, come hang out” I should have immediately seen the booty call red flag. Especially because we had set up a first date for the next night, but John was hot and he cracked me up so I was excited to see him.