A couple of days ago I felt like a total fatty after a week of overindulging at endless social events. I decided to start the week with a bang by going to a spinning class at my gym. Spinning is by no means my strong suit, but I always admire the skinny toned bodies I see as I waddle my way down to the pool (okay, I am not a hippo, but beside these skinny bitches I feel like I'm waddling).
I really didn't really know what to expect when I arrived, but after seeing my hot, buff instructor set up his bike, I was hopeful that it wouldn't be a total waste of my time.
Hot Spinning Instructor (we will refer to him as HSI from now on) cranked up some techno beats and had us all sweating before the end of the first song. And yes, I will admit that I was sweating from the exercise, but my heart rate was rising even more with his very sexual commands at us.
I kid you not. This was the "motivational words" that HSI growled at us:
"Turn it! Add it! Slide it! Push it!"
"Harder! Don't stop! Harder! Push it!"
Over and over again. In fairness, he meant for us to turn the knob (see it's still sexual), add intensity on the wheel (are you sensing a theme yet?), slide our asses back over the seat to work our thighs more (I don't need to be told twice), and push our bodies HARDER. Umm, OKAY?!
I literally had to bite my tongue from crying out, "I'm coming!" I wanted all the other skinny bitches to take a hike and leave me alone for a private sexy spinning session for two.
Anyway, by the end of the 45 minute workout I had not only burned a gazillion calories from pedaling my ass off, but I also had an extra flush from being extremely turned on for 45 minutes straight. The up and downs on the seat mixed with HSI's "Push it harder, ladies! Don't stop!" left me in a delirious state of foreplay ecstasy.
I'm not sure if all those other women go to that particular class with HSI for the same benefits that I got, but I must say if I do land a man, I will have to boycott that class, cause it would sure as hell feel like cheating getting that much pleasure from a total stranger.
But for now, HSI, my butt, my thighs, and my libido thank you.
In Romeo and Juliet, Juliet expresses that a name is an artificial and meaningless convention. But I say that she is wrong. I know, who am I to argue with Shakespeare? But in a name.... is everything!
I came to this conclusion after completing my first grueling month on eHarmony. I haven't been on the site long enough to pick up many observations, with the exception of one : countless "matches" of mine have the most horrendous names.
I know that this is totally superficial, but I went through my matches and thought I would share the best of the worst names I have come across.
Here is a list of names of some of my potential future husbands:
1) Gary/ Gerry/ Gerard/ Bernard : An ugly theme I found of old man sounding names.
2) Boris : He just sounds boring. What do you shorten it to? "Bor"?
3) Vicken : I want a man, not something cool to smear on my chest.
4) Floyd : The "oy" sound makes me think of my least favourite word... moist. (*shudder*)
5) T.J/ T.P/ T.C : Seriously, what does the mysterious "t" stand for? Toad? Turd?? Testes???
6) Igor : Igor the Ogre? Perhaps a new children's series...
7) Bran : Mmm fiber. That's sexy.
8) Kikarapa : It sounds like "kick a rapper" when I say it out loud.
9) Aventinus : Sounds more like James Cameron's next big blockbuster than a man's name.
10) Spyro : All I can picture is a cartoon villain from a kid's TV show in the 80's.
Now, to any reader who is married to someone with a name on my list, I apologize. I am sure he is lovely, despite his unfortunate name. But, to anyone who named their child one of these names... what were you thinking? It seems that at birth these men were destined to end up on an online dating site. Like the name was a catalyst for a self-fulfilling prophecy of awkward lonliness.
Again, I know how shallow this sounds. But no matter how many times I play it in my head, I just can't picture my wedding day.... "I, Crystal, take thee, Kikarapa, to be my lawfully wedded husband...."
I had my very first eHarmony date. It was terrible. But, I figure if you start out poorly, you can only go up from there! The interesting thing is that Fraser was perfect on paper (minus his unfortunate name). Handsome, well-dressed, CEO of his own company, incredibly smart, wealthy... I should be taking him home to meet the parents, right? Wrong. Although Fraser was ideal in his credentials, he lacked one very important thing: social skills.
I don't want to go as far as to say that he had Asperger's, but I have never encountered someone as socially inept as him. So if anyone ever intends to be a terrible date I thought I would give you a winning recipe, courtesy of Fraser :
1) When setting up your first time to talk on the phone and the girl suggests 10pm, tell her that is too late and maybe you will text instead. Changing your bedtime routine for her would be a sign of weakness.
2) When you do talk on the phone, tell the girl that you want to make sure you meet in the daytime so you can see her in "really good lighting". A girl needs that important reminder that you will be scrutinizing her down to her very pores.
3) When the girl asks you to arrange the date half an hour later because she will be rushing from lunch with a friend, don't compromise at all. Instead, say, "No, no we'll meet at 3pm." This doesn't show that you are rigid or controlling. Just lovably inflexible.
4) When you do meet the girl, make sure to pick a fight with the first topic she brings up. Women love to be challenged. You may hurt her feelings, but at least she can see what a great debater you are!
5) When the girl shows you a picture of her brand new baby niece, ignore the photo all together and instead point out the lovely icon arrangement on her iPhone. Paternalism is for losers. Show her she can have full rights and responsibilities of praising your unborn children.
6) When the girl is about three sips into her coffee, put on your coat and tell her you feel like doing something else. That isn't rude at all... it's spontaneous!
7) When you bring the girl to this new place (a book store), wait until she shows interest in some section, then promptly leave and do your own shopping. This way she can see how much independence you will give her.
8) When the girl points out a book that she is interested in reading, tell her it looks like crap. No sense in letting her waste her money. You know how to judge a book by its cover!
9) When you leave the store, walk slightly in front, as opposed to beside her. This will help reinforce to her that you are a leader.
10) When you abruptly decide that the date is over, tell her you would like to do this again sometime. She surely must have had as an enjoyable time as you!
Well, that's it my friends. My first eHarmony date, beginning to end. No embellishments necessary. (May I remind you that I'm now paying for this shit.)
Lesson learned? Don't let your date get to number ten. I should have bailed on Fraser after number three. Lesson definitely learned.
So I've tried Plenty of Fish. All I found were freaks. I've tried OKCupid. I didn't find my Valentine. I've tried pretty much everything... free, that is.
Apparently these "free" sites aren't where you land a husband, so I've been told by my mother, sister, and best friend. If you want to find a man serious about commitment, you've got to pay. And damn, love don't come cheap! (Sorry, don't know why I turned all ghetto superstar there... back to me).
Apparently, love comes at the low cost of $49.99 a month. No guarantee you will find Mr. Right. No guarantee of landing a date even, but if you want to see who might be your match it's going to cost you. So after my sister told me that she had almost purchased me an eHarmony membership for Christmas (thoughtful, but OUCH) I decided to do it myself. I bit the bullet, told myself my good years are getting shorter, and the supply of good men is dwindling, so now is my time to act. I signed up for eHarmony.
I got pretty excited filling out my online profile. It kept flashing happy couples at me, smiling. I want to be them, I thought. I want to be Gerry and Julia. Meghan and Mark. Dan and Diane. I want to be one of those smiling, gushing, nobody-can-stand-to-look-at-you-cause-you're-so-in-love couples. I became even more encouraged when the screen flashed at me saying that there were something like 12 million people on this site. I just need one! That's pretty good odds!
So imagine my disappointment upon completing my profile, when I was sent seven measly matches. That's right, seven. How much of an anomaly am I? Seven?! So I judiciously went through my seven matches to discover the following:
-Two were trolls -Two looked my father's age, though apparently were mine -One had fourteen spelling mistakes in his profile -Two looked... mediocre.
So from twelve million to two. I began sweating as I frantically digested ever inch of their profiles. One of these men had to be my future husband! Plenty of fish in the sea, my ass.
As it turns out, neither of those two were my match made in heaven. But I was sent seven new matches the following morning, and every morning thereafter. So maybe my prince is somewhere still in cyber space and a little computer robot will match us up any day now.
Cause at $50 a month, I've gotta find him, and fast.
Most women like to put a splash of something on in order to smell nice, but I think that it is really important to take the time to pick the perfect scent... for you. Not all perfumes smell the same on each person because of the oils in our skin, so scents can change person to person.
For me, it's Calvin Klein's "Euphoria". I got a tester of it about four years ago, and each night that I dabbed some on I had guys fawn all over me. I'm not even exaggerating when I say that guy's literally stopped me on the sidewalk and said wide-eyed "You smell AMAZING." I smiled bashfully and replied, "Thanks. It's my euphoria." So, after countless confirmations from male strangers, I decided that whatever this scent was doing mixing with my oils, it was working. I bought myself a bottle and for four years I have shooed all other scents away, determined to make this scent my own.
I have always wanted a sexy smell associated with me, so when some random woman walks in a room with MY scent on, it makes all the men think of me. And after four dedicated years, I finally got confirmation of this from a male friend of mine. He had "smelled" me at a party that I didn't attend. I was attending a different party where my spicy scent had been... approved.
Mission accomplished.
Euphoria may not be the scent for you, but taking the time to find out what perfume turns magic on your skin, is worth the fireworks it could bring.
A couple of weeks ago I got a killer headache that lasted for days. I tried Advil, sleeping more, sleeping less, cold packs, heat packs, yoga, but nothing would shake it. I would go to bed with it and wake up with it for days on end... this was one stubborn headache! Finally, when my cranial pressure became unbearable, I started to wonder if maybe there was some connection between my wound up brain and my wound up vajayjay from a recent lack of sex. (The blog title doesn't lie people!)
With that conclusion in mind I decided action must be taken. I mean, this is my health were talking about. But having no boyfriend up for duty, and a one stand with a random being rather unappealing, I decided to call up a friend.
Troy and I have been friends for a few years, we always have fun together, and we had one hook up a while back that was particularly enjoyable. So in search of some sexual healing I called Troy up and asked him point blank for a "favour". I explained that my health was in jeopardy and as a friend I would appreciate if he would help me out by having sex with me. That's what friends are for, right?
Troy first complimented me on my forthrightness and explained that he had a commitment that evening that he would try to get out of. After we hung up, he called back about 30 seconds later and said he was in. And so, a therapeutic evening of romping began. We managed to get a couple rounds in that night, and though the headache had magically disappeared by then, we squeezed one more round in the morning for good luck. I know self-diagnosing is frowned upon, but in my case, playing doctor cured me right up.
It's been a week now and I have remained headache free, but Troy assured me if that call of duty was required again, he was my man. So if you have a nasty headache that won't shake, why pop a pill when there's a much more pleasurable way to release that tension? Worked for me...
After getting lazy with my dating life for a couple of months, I decided to step up my game and go on a date again. I had been chatting with Michael for a couple of weeks and we set up a coffee date right in my neighbourhood. Michael's profile gave little away about himself, but he seem liked a really genuinely nice guy, even if his pictures looked a bit dorky. Since all the handsome men in my life have turned out to be assholes, I thought dorky might be good.
So I can't even describe my surprise when we met and I realized that Michael was not dorky in the least. In fact, he was smoking hot. It is pretty rare to find someone that good looking who could simultaneously be that unphotogenic, but there he was. Now, his surprise handsome features would have been a really good thing if it wasn't for one small detail: he was my asshole, cheated on me for three years, lying, manipulative ex's doppelgänger. (For those of you who don't watch How I Met Your Mother or have just never heard of the term, a doppelgänger is a person's body double- sort of like a long, lost twin.) And as far as my evil ex and Michael went, they were IDENTICAL... from the creases on his forehead, to his two crooked bottom teeth, and even his perfect crystal blue eyes. It was uncanny.
Anyway, I found myself on the world's most bizarre date as this very sweet, very handsome guy began to tell me about himself and I did a mixture of gawking at him and giving him the stink eye. Part of me wanted to just tell him the reason I was acting like such a weirdo was because he was my ex's twin, but I didn't really think the first words out of my mouth should be about an ex.
By the end of the night I had convinced myself that this was my evil ex's saintly twin and maybe I should give him a shot. But apparently my lack of interesting conversation and continual stink eye didn't make Michael feel the same way. Truth be told, I really don't know what to make of the whole date. Maybe it was God playing a practical joke on me, maybe it was closure for a relationship that turned sour. But it certainly chalked up to be one of my strangest dates yet.
So the question is... do I dare put myself out there again?
"Turn it! Add it! Slide it! Push it!"
