Move Over, Tinder.

Just a few short years ago I remember thinking the concept of online dating was still totally taboo. To me, the people who took part in online dating were middle-aged homebodies who had to fight with their cats for the keyboard. But now, it’s everywhere. It’s considered entirely acceptable to meet your significant other on Tinder or match.com. In fact, I have a couple good girlfriends who met their wonderful boyfriends on Tinder. And no, they are not serial killer rapists. They’re normal, good dudes.

WILL YOU DATE ME!?! via reddit.com

PLEASE DATE ME!!!

Although my opinion of online dating has evolved, there is still the, frankly, ridiculous sites that make me cringe every time I see a commercial or hear an ad on the radio: Christian Mingle (wait, christians actively date?), Farmers Only (people want to live on farms?) or, my personal favorite, J Date. Ah, J Date, a desperate woman’s ‘land of milk and honey’ for finding a rich old Jew to spend forever with. Mazel Tov.

But if you think you’ve heard it all, you are so horribly wrong. Marie Claire published a list of dating websites that match you based on shared interests or characteristics. And let me be up front with you when I say that if you are on any of these sites we probably should no longer, or ever, interact together. I am ashamed of you and you deserve to spend eternity forever alone. Here they are:

alikewise.com – A site to find other people who loved Twilight as much as you. It matches you based on your literary tastes.

tastebuds.fm – ‘You like crying all alone to Sinead O’ Connor too? Let’s build on that.’ It matches you based on your music library.

creditscoredating.com – Exactly as it sounds.

singleswithfoodallergies.com – Again, exactly as it sounds. And no, I did NOT make this one up.

Wait-whatprescription4love.com – No, it’s not a site to watch old Ladies Man skits with Tim Meadows. This is the site that romantically matches you based on medical conditions you share! Because being in a relationship where one individual has crippling anxiety already isn’t bad enough. That’s fine, I didn’t want to leave the house ever again anyway.

datebytype.com – Matches you by blood type. Ugh.

genepartner.com – Legit CSI activity going on here. This site matches you based on your DNA compatibility which is ever-so-elegantly gathered by saliva samples.

NOPE!

NOPE!

And last, but certainly not least:  findyourfacemate.com – Because who wouldn’t want to date someone who looks similar to THEMSELVES. (Shudder.)

Just don’t. Please. I beg you.

Until next time…

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And a SNIP SNIP here, a SNIP SNIP there…

NC-17 rating people! Hide yo’ kids! This post is not for the squeamish of heart! That being said, when I came across this article it was simply too fantastic to just skim over and not write about! The article, titled “A Cut Below”, in Marie Claire discusses the relatively recent phenomena that is known as….brace for it, vaginal rejuvenation. Did you squirm a little bit? Such a lovely term for such an icky procedure. I admit it, at times I can be a bit immature. Simply saying the word “vagina” makes me utterly uncomfortable. You are much more likely to hear me refer to it elegantly as the vajay or vajeen (phonetic spelling, people).

Ewwwwww.

The article begins with the author attending a two-day presentation on gynocosmetology, aka plastic surgery for one’s lady parts. My first thought was, Dear Lord, this topic needs two WHOLE days to be discussed?!!? However, apparently, it does. The big head honcho of vaginal rejuvenation goes on to tell the crowd that women are willing to pay big bucks to have an “exuberant vagina”. Now, although I am a woman, I am by no means an expert in this field, however, an exuberant vagina? What does that even mean? Mine certainly doesn’t sing karaoke or bust out in an impromptu jig from time to time. It must be a…what is the opposite of exuberant?…shy?…it must be a shy one.

Now, I will spare everyone the details of how and what is done to give one a perky “area”, but let’s get some numbers out there. According to this article, there were 53,332 vaginal rejuvenation performed by US doctors in 2009! Can I just jump on my soapbox for a minute here while I rant and rave about how utterly preposterous this is to me? For starters, some women literally do need surgery after suffering traumatic situations, pregnancies (wait, pregnancy wasn’t categorized under traumatic situations?), or diseases, such as cancer, and I would never judge someone for that. However, think of what that money could have been used for instead in these other vain circumstances! Think about the plastic surgery that some children NEED for cleft palettes or the surgery that some people NEED simply to survive…and instead, there are women out there to spend their money on such a thing. The frivolity of it all infuriates me. All for something that only a few people (ok, maybe crowds depending on who you are and what your profession is) will see anyway. Ok, whew, I feel somewhat better. Onto stat #2: more than 60% of these procedures are done on women 20-39. Um, jigga whaaaaaa?! How does the term “rejuvenation” fit in there when someone is under 40?! They still haven’t even officially gone over the hill yet to need reinvention on the other side. Unless you’re Michelle Duggar, I don’t want to hear it.

The article even goes on to discuss how in many cultures women must present themselves on their wedding night as a virgin (Wait, I mean, every women does that. In all cultures. All the time. No question about it., Mom.) However, many may “fall off the wagon” before their big night. So what can we do? Should we be brave and tell our future husband? Should we do the right thing; tell the truth and build a relationship based on honesty? OR should we get a quick nip and tuck in there, also known as hymenoplasty, to physically become a virgin again? The last one…DING DING DING! One very wise professional in the field even went on to say “These surgeries save relationships. Breasts catch a man, but a tight vagina keeps him.” Don’t even get me started on the never-ending arguments to attack these ever-so-philosophical statements!

If any women out there are still pondering whether to go under the knife, I’ll conclude with the following. These surgeries can result in infection, bleeding, painful intercourse (for the rest of your life, not just in the few weeks that follow the procedure), lifelong scarring, etc. However, even more important to me, if one is thinking of doing this to “save their relationship”; STOP. Seriously, call me and I will fly to where you are to slap you across the face. You are truly delusional to think that a) this will fix anything in your relationship and b) your relationship is based on love and appreciation for one another. If it has come to this, it is not. Find someone who will love your lady parts just the way they are. Exuberant or not.

Maybe it’s just me but I always thought that all heterosexual men were happy as clams  to be anywhere in the vicinity of any aforementioned clam.

Until next time…

 

A Big Controversy about a Little Pill

It would probably not surprise most of you to discover that I do not make politics a huge priority in my life. I am not married. I have no children. I sadly own nothing of value except my quickly depreciating Chevy Equinox…poor thing doesn’t get the care it deserves. And God knows I am not in the 1%. Because of this, I often naively believe that politics don’t directly impact my life too much. However, the 2012 campaign trail has been loaded with women’s health issues that do directly affect me and my other female homies out there.

As many of you are probably aware, this issue hit the fan when the Susan G. Koman Foundation initially said they were going to withdraw funds from Planned Parenthood (they eventually backed down after having their asses handed to them). Then in February of this year a new firestorm began when five men (three priests, a rabbi, and a doctor…no, this isn’t a bad joke) testified at Capital Hill  saying women should be denied insurance coverage for birth control. O no, they didn’t (picture me zig zag snapping)! On an interesting side note, these men, and the Catholic church, had no such concerns about Viagra. Typical. THEN to make matters worse, a Georgetown University student, Sandra Fluke, who planned to speak in favor of contraceptive use got turned down AND proceeded to be called a slut, a prostitute, and said to have had so much sex she couldn’t walk. All of this from good ol’ Rush Limbaugh. Now, I am not entirely positive, but I’m prrrrrretty sure Rush Limbaugh should be the last person to ever use name-calling and be all judgemental up in here.

Many of you probably knew the majority of the brief history spiel I just gave, as I myself did. However, as I was reading an article about this exact topic in Marie Claire I was surprised to learn that 98% of American women use contraception. This means that this topic effects 98% of my American sisters. My immediate thought was ,”Way to be smart, lady friends!”….followed by “I am woman, hear me roar!” sneaking in there somehow.

I wasn’t silly enough to believe that everyone felt this way for I don’t live in a box, people. However, I was shocked to read the reasons some individuals oppose BC use. For starters, some social conservatives have brought this old classic out of hiding: that having sex without wanting to get pregnant is bad for society. Um….jigga what? I once heard this rumor that even married couples liked to have sex without creating another life. Wouldn’t preventing unwanted pregnancies be a positive thing for society? In fact, for every dollar spent on family planning, the public saves almost four dollars.

On that same note, past presidential hopeful Rick Santorum was quoted saying, “Birth control is a license to do things in the sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be.” I don’t know how things are supposed to be in the sexual realm, but I’m pretty sure birth control does not impact what is supposed to be good sex.

Not surprisingly, many abortion rights opponents have also sounded against contraceptive use claiming that some forms of BC, including the pill, terminate pregnancies. This is in no way true.

Now, I just want to say that I don’t want to use this blog as a forum for making my political opinions known and push them upon other people. Also, this post is not a pro-life or pro-choice debate. It is about an issue that directly affects myself, my body, my health, my partner, and our future. Whatever your stance on the issue, it is clearly not going away anytime soon. This was made evident with Rep. Todd Akin’s recent outrageous comment about “legitimate rape” (don’t even get me started on that one) and President Obama’s reply along the lines that the men in the government should not be making decisions for women’s health. Come November, ladies, it’s time for us to hit the polls and let our opinions on the matter be heard. Whatever they may be.

I just had to end this with this little gem.

Until next time…

One is Never Enough

Recently, I was reading an article written by a single woman who edited sex diaries-personal accounts of everything that happened in a week of an anonymous New Yorker’s private life (aka: a nosy person’s dream job; aka: MY dream job). She was fascinated by some people’s exploits and preferences, especially those who had a close friend with whom to occasionally have sexy times, and occasionally have friend times. (No, it gets weirder…) These people were also in committed relationships. They weren’t cheating, or pulling a Kristen Stewart (too soon?). The other mate was well aware of the arrangement and was accepting of it.

The article continues as this woman decides she wants to try “playdates” (original term, I know) with people she was attracted to, yet not at risk of developing an emotional involvement with. I interpreted this as a single girl sleeping around in fancier terms, but I digress. Yada yada yada, the article goes on to tell of her first experiences, until…

This lady meets her soon to become boyfriend. In what I believe is the smartest idea this young woman has ever had, they decide to date nonexclusively since they lived across the US from each other. Then, this fellow decides to move in and she writes, “Given that we’d successfully had other partners through our first year of dating, I couldn’t see a compelling reason to give up my playmates, and neither could he.” (…and weirder.) My favorite part of the article? “We enjoy and nurture our relationship and fill our lives with a select group of deeply trusted friends/lovers to dabble with when one of us traveling or needs attention.”

Um….what? Did I read that right? I read it again and again. I couldn’t wrap my head around this. And on a side note, the fact that she uses the word “dabble” when discussing this topic was, for some reason, also disturbing to me. Now I realize that everybody’s needs and preferences are different; I appreciate that. For this couple, it allowed them to successfully stay together for three years and counting. But to me, this simply seems like someone who is unwilling to make a committment to another person and trying to rationalize it. And even more bizzaro is the fact that the people they have “happy time” with are THEIR FRIENDS. As I read this I sat there trying to think of even one male friend I have who I could do this with (as I am in a happy, committed relationship) and every face that entered my mind made me burst out laughing. I love my male friends, and no, they are not all disgusting pigs, but I simply cannot think of them like that. Having to interact with them following a potential sexy time was something I literally could not fathom.

All joking aside, though, I really want to know some of your opinions about this topic. Could you do this if you were in a committed relationship? Would you be willing to dabble?

Until next time…

Thanks for the lay…now get out.

I am not a frequent reader of Elle magazine, but when I stumbled upon their monthly advice column Ask E. Jean, I found myself reading with my mouth literally open in what was either astonishment or difficulty breathing due to the local high pollen alert. Either way, the first question that a devoted Elle reader wrote immediately caught my attention. Without boring you with the details, I’ll get to the good stuff. She writes:

My girlfriends and I want to know why men we meet keep sleeping over after sex instead of getting dressed and leaving like men are supposed to! We try to come up with the perfect way to get them to leave without making them mad, but we can’t find the words.

Before I even read the advice, I immediately thought ‘Miss Thang, don’t flatter yourself! All the dude wants is a little slap & tickle and then be on his merry way!’. But then I began thinking about a recent story from a friend of mine whose sexual escapades never cease in hilarity. In a nut shell, the same thing happened to her. The kicker? It was the same guy twice and he ended up getting furious with her when he was asked to leave! Picture this: grown adult man (although I am questioning now if “adult”
is an adequate adjective for this fellow after hearing the tantrum he threw), standing there naked, only wearing socks, yelling obscenities, and trying to make, yet failing miserably at, a grandiose exit.

So now to the dessert portion of our meal…E. Jean answers by giving these three sagely tips:

1. Immediately upon seeing him, greet him with a kiss and say, “I can’t let you keep me up too late, darling, it’s a school night.”

2. When you arrive home and reach the bedroom, whisper, “Since you have to leave so early tonight, I hope I can see you next Saturday.”

3. When you send him out at the door pop a bagel in a bag, hand it to him, and say, “Breakfast for my gangsta boy!”

You guys, I am not making this up. This was her real advice. I found myself shouting at the page, “WHAT ARE THIS WOMAN’S CREDENTIALS?!” The obvious flaw being what guy wants to be handed a bagel…it should be more like, can I get an order of Buffalo Wild Wings or a nice slab of ribeye steak on the way out? And secondly, what decent man, who does not have an oversized ego the size of their, what is sure to be, gelled up Guido hair, wants to be called anyone’s ‘gangsta boy’?

I may not be the leading expert in the field of one-night-stand-and-then-be-on-your-way-ology, but I’m even more positive that Ms. E. Jean is even less of an expert than I to have given such incredulous advice.

Until next time…