Despite vehemently disliking the phrase, I’ve been called a “dirty girl” on multiple occasions by various guys since the beginning of adolescence. I’ve also frequently been told that I have a “dirty mind” because I enjoy thinking and talking about sexual topics. I wonder, why do we refer to sex as “dirty”? (more…)
During last weekend’s torrential snow dump, over a homemade orange Fanta snow slushie and after many hours of binge-watching Sex and the City, I started pondering the differences between men’s and women’s expectations and fears in bed. (more…)
In high school, I used to joke that my friends and I dated like we were Amish. We tended to stay within our own group, and as a result, many of us ended up dating the same friends as each other, almost on rotation.
I have yet to figure out why I was the only girl within my group to get grief for dating my friends’ exes. We all did it, so why was I singled out? My boyfriends received no grief because they’re guys; they can’t help themselves. They’re slaves to their anatomy, I was taught. But girls… Well, we should be thinking clearly because we know better. (Ha.) (more…)
Last night, I asked my mom why she and my dad decided to circumcise my brother when he was born. She replied that she’d left the decision entirely up to my dad, and, apparently, part of my dad’s rationale was that he didn’t want him to stand out from the crowd and be subjected to ridicule in the locker room in gym class. (In retrospect, it’s ironic now that my brother killed himself as a result of other social ostracism.)
The theme of the party was Snow Pants or No Pants, and lemme tell ya, I didn’t see a single pair of snow pants the entire night. (more…)
Bondage. Discipline. Dominance. Submission. Sadism. Masochism. BDSM intrigues me to no end. Who wouldn’t be curious about this underground lifestyle? (more…)
Ever since my tweenage years, I’ve been thrilled to get my period each month. I waited for what felt like ages for my ticket into the elusive cult of womanhood* and listened jealously to my post-menarche friends lamenting over their monthly blues. When it finally showed up unannounced one afternoon, I was ecstatic. (more…)