My First Time(s)

Coming of age movies make me a little depressed.

Usually the actual movie is uplifting, but the pivotal scene, the “losing their virginity” scene, the holy-crap-I’m-so-excited-for-this-fictional-character scene… Makes me really sad.

Because I didn’t have a first time.

I’ve had plenty of sex. More than a lot of people, probably, but not in a slutty way (she said convincingly). And there’s really only one truly embarrassing name I’d erase from the list if I could. So, overall, pretty successful I guess.

But how can someone so sexually flourishing not have had a first time?

It seemed like the right time. We’d been dating two months. I was 18. All of my friends had done it, I mean, come on, 18 is pretty late to lose your virginity. After telling my previous boyfriend I wanted to wait and then losing him to a girl who didn’t and then regretting having wanted to wait because I honestly did want to have sex with him… I was more than ready this time.

His parents had gone up to bed hours ago. We’d been cramped on the couch watching tv when I finally had enough. I pushed the coffee table aside and told him to sneak up to his room and grab a couple of blankets.

I was frank about it. “Have sex with me,” I said with a smile. And we started to undress each other. There was contact.

Then the problems started.

He had… trouble. Which of course I know now was just nerves. But at the time I was so embarrassed and mad.

It made him feel horrible. I kept thinking, come on, how can you look at me naked and not be able to perform? I mean was I not as hot as I thought? Did I do something? Why didn’t he want to have sex with me?

When he couldn’t figure out a way to convince me it wasn’t about me, and couldn’t get himself to calm down long enough to try again, he got upset. Yeah he cried a little. Mood officially ruined.

We didn’t try again until new year’s eve.

We had enough to drink so that we were relaxed but not drunk. His parents were out of town. I was ready this time. Again.

We were laying in bed after midnight. Talking, being in love, you know… the usual. We ended up naked and side by side, with my legs over his. We called it the lazy man after the fact. Nobody had to be on top.

He got maybe an inch or two and it hurt so we stopped. Um. Count it or don’t count it? This is my problem. This is the unanswerable question.

About a month later the same thing happened. I think we went a little further that time. I mean, what can I say, it hurt! I was so ready, I wanted to have sex, I just couldn’t!

Each time we tried, we got a little further, until eventually we had real sex.

But during the process, I don’t remember a particular time that it finally was legitimate sex. I don’t remember a time when I thought “finally!” or immediately texted my friends to tell them the good news. I went from a virgin to slightly less of a virgin gradually over 5 months. Nothing weird, tragic, or funny happened. We loved each other, we kept trying, we eventually got it right.

I have plenty of good sex stories.

But a first time? That… I don’t have.

Tags: first time, firsts, relationships, sex, teenagers, young love

I Fucking Hate Space

Yeah, I said it.

 

Why the FUCK do we keep spending so much money on space?!

It’s the most pointless, wasteful, meaningless, and frankly just idiotic government program there ever was or ever will be. It literally makes me furious to think about space/NASA/anything related to either.

Yeah, okay. When we went to the moon, that was cool. It was like “Hey! Look what we can do!”

Even the space station was kind of an interesting concept and they got it to work, and that was cool. But that should have been enough. It’s not practical. People can’t live out there for more than a few weeks without their bones deteriorating. You can count me out.

I know it’s human nature to explore. To test. To try it out.

But every year BILLIONS of dollars are thrown into the space program. FOR WHAT, I ASK YOU?

I don’t give a shit if there’s water on Mars. We don’t need it. Pour billions into recycling programs and green initiatives to keep our OWN water clean. There’d probably be money left over to throw a party.

I don’t care if there is life on other planets. Realistically… Mathematically… There has to be. But one thing that bugs me about the concept of aliens is that people always assume they’re so much more technologically advanced than we are. Like… sure there’s probably life on other planets. But they could still be in the cave man stage of evolution, or the amoeba stage, or the dinosaurs; who’s to say? Why can’t we just leave them alone? If there are aliens, they’re leaving us alone.

All the money thrown into the space program may as well just be thrown into space itself. Fill up a shuttle with $1000 bills and just launch it into nothingness. Maybe it will crash land on an alien planet in a couple thousand years, and then won’t they be delighted.

It’s pointless. It’s a waste of time, money, energy, resources. There is nothing we need from space. There is nothing of value to gain. There are no resources we can realistically obtain. And if there are, for the amount of effort it’s taking to find them, it’s really not worth it.

The only thing NASA should be working on is how to launch a GIANT spaceship full of nuclear waste and/or other garbage into the sun to be destroyed forever. That way we aren’t polluting the planet OR the universe.

 

I urge you to explain to me how on earth (or in the universe at large) all of this could ever be of real value to the human race. We have everything we need. We’ve had it for millions of years. Just leave the universe alone.

 

Tags: america, energy, government, green, mars, money, nasa, pollution, rant, space, space program, space station, spending, usa, vent, water

The First One I Ever Saw, Part II

In an effort to hold on to my memories forever, I’ll be posting some short essays based on my fascinating life experiences, both wonderful and painful. You’re welcome, I guess.

Except for that one time Rob almost calls me Emily but stops himself, the next weeks go better than I could have thought. I think he tried to date her before we started.

But I have him now.

He tells me he loves when I wear my hair down. I tell him he’s handsome.

When he drops me off after a trip to the movies, I notice that my parents’ light is out. So I invite him in for another glowing make out session. I got rid of the futon, and put the mattress flat on the floor. It’s quieter. And by that I only mean it doesn’t squeak when you roll over…

We’re laying on top of the blanket, my right leg draped over his. My lips find his earlobe and (unlike the first time I did this, when I was sort of laying on top of him and he all of an abruptly threw me off of him to conceal his excitement) he doesn’t stop me.

I can feel him, and he knows it. And he knows I don’t know what to do about it and I’m getting really nervous. I can feel my body tighten up. The thought of what’s about to go down makes me sweat. I’ve never seen one before.  I look up at him. I’m trying to make my eyes tell him “I want to touch you but I’ve never done it before, please guide me without embarrassing me.”

Somehow he hears me.

He takes my right hand and drapes it over his pants. A spark shoots through me. My fingers act on instinct I guess, since I wouldn’t have known what orders to give them.  They start to rub him through his jeans. My brain is freaking out, but my body is hungry for it.

His lips go slack on mine for a minute, until he snaps out of it and looks me in the eye. “You good?” he asks me, cautiously.

I nod. He pulls the blanket from underneath him and throws it over us. My fingers are fiddling around the waist of his jeans, teasing with his hip bones, asking him to let them go further. Where did they learn how to do this? I run a finger over the button and fly, and Rob knows it’s alright to undo them.

There’s a warmth that hits my hand when all that’s between us is a thin pair of cotton boxers. A warmth that’s scary and inviting at the same time. Rob looks at me again, telling me wordlessly to keep going. I let my fingers play around his hip bones again but this time, my hand sinks past the elastic and fills with him. I glance up at him again, but his eyes are closed.

I’m on my own now.

My chest is pounding so hard I think Rob can feel it. It’s a good thing my hand knows what to do because my brain seems to be filled with static. He inches off his boxers and I see him for the first time. If there had been any doubts about my sexuality, they are now officially shattered. It feels so normal. Perfectly okay, to be touching him like this. My hand makes slow steady strokes up and down as Rob lays with his head back and mouth open. His hand reaches mine and moves it faster. Mental note… a little faster.

A few minutes pass and he opens his eyes and meets mine with a smile. He runs a finger up my arm, down my side, and gives my hip a firm squeeze. Throw me down and take off my clothes and do me, right now. The thought is running through my head on repeat. I don’t think I’d stop him. Is this some sort of instinct? I didn’t think I was ready but now I’m not so sure.

He lays back down. Doesn’t look like there will be any ravaging tonight. Why do I feel a little disappointed? I put lotion on my hand and on him. It feels so cold. He flinches. “Ah so cold!”

I whisper “sorry!” but we both giggle. Enough to ease the bad tension but not enough to ruin the good. Hey, let’s focus.

My arm hurts.

I can feel his body start to stiffen. My wrist gives him a little twisting motion and he stiffens more, which I’m not sure I thought was possible a second ago. But he does. And when he finally lets go, I’m overcome. There’s a sense of pride and, like, power, inflating in me while I watch his ab muscles contract involuntarily. I feel like i’ve just done something mean to him. Almost… manipulative. But it’s awesome.

He throws a wink and a smile my way. I’m frozen in the satisfaction, but manage to smile back.

“You made a mess” I tease. He doesn’t ask how my arm is doing.

So we snuggle into the covers until about 2am when Rob has to go home. I think I just heard my mom get up and go to the bathroom. I’m thrilled she didn’t come in here and see if I was alone, but I don’t want to push it.

Not worth ruining a perfect night.

Tags: firsts, high school, love, relationships, sex, teenagers, young love, youth

Everybody Poops

No seriously. Everyone Poops.

Think about that the next time you have a celebrity crush.

Girls: If your boyfriend says things like “Man, Megan Fox is SO HOT” just follow that with “Yeah she probably pooped today. She could be pooping right now.”

Hotness factor leveled.

It works for every hot celebrity. Keira Knightley poops. She’s gorgeous and pretty much my definition of perfection (if only she had red hair), but she poops. She’s just a human being.

Everyone poops.

(Except me.)

I only mention this because I’m constantly slapped in the face by entertainment news. By people putting celebrities in a different category of humans. Like they’re something special. And it’s driving me bonkers.

You know what?

They’re just like you.

Katy Perry uses the toilet.  Robert Pattinson is both ugly AND has probably gone to the bathroom twice today. Adam Levine probably farts in bed, and who wants to wake up next to that?

 

 

This has been a Public Service Announcement.

 

Tags: adam levine, celebrities, humans, humor, katy perry, keira knightley, life, megan fox, news, people, poop, psa, robert pattinson

The First One I Ever Saw, Part I

In an effort to hold on to my memories forever, I’ll be posting some short essays based on my fascinating life experiences, both wonderful and painful. Enjoy.

It’s a hot summer Saturday in 2005 and I’m stuck behind the register at True Value. It’s only 10:30 but it’s so busy it feels like 2. I’m watching a guy walk up to me with an entire cart full of tiny pieces of PVC. I hope he’s not in a hurry.

I try to remember to say “have a good day” to the women and “have a good one” to the men and “seeya later” to the regulars, but sometimes it just doesn’t come up. A voice behind me whispers “you’re fired!”

I swing around and end up face to face with Rob from the hardware department. “You didn’t say ‘have a nice day’, you’re totally fired.”

I laugh and rest my elbows on the counter. “You back for more gummi bears?” Rob comes up to the front counter all the time. I think it’s to talk to me, but he masks it as candy cravings.

“I wanted to tell you that I added Blue Oyster Cult to my list of good music, so what do you think that tells you about my personality?” We crack up. I grab a bag of gummi bears and charge them to his grandmother’s account. The Blue Oyster Cult thing is funny because another girl who works here, said to a few of the guys that “the type of music you like says a lot about a person” which is just such a weird and awkward thing to say to a group of attractive guys. It’s been a lasting joke between them and me.

I hand him the bears and expect him to walk away but he doesn’t. We look each other in the eyes. My face looks curious.
“Can you go to lunch later?”
I think about it and smile. “What time?”
“One.”
“Where are we going?” still smiling.
“Who knows.” He shrugs and starts to turn around. Smiling. We’re both smiling. A little last minute but I have a date. A lunch date with Rob from hardware.

 

Three dates later, we’ve spent the entire night up talking in my screen porch, laying together on my Yankee blanket in the warm night. When I make it a little too obvious he’s allowed to kiss me, he turns red and says “I’m a nervous young man,” which of course is adorable and only makes me want to kiss him more. Work the next day is excruciating after being up all night. But every yawn reminds me of how much I like him.

 

We’re laying on my horribly uncomfortable fouton in my room. Shockingly, we came up here half an hour ago and my mother hasn’t opened my door to pretend to ask/tell me something so that she can leave and “forget” to close the door behind her.

Truly shocking.

It’s dark out and only one of my lights is on and the wattage is low. He tickles me which distracts me from my thumping chest. He has me pinned face to face. If he doesn’t kiss me this time I’m going to scream. I’m not beating around it. I’m holding eye contact until he mans up. I feel a finger in my ribs and I let out a laugh and try to squirm away. My cheek brushes against his when I try and fail (on purpose) to get out from underneath him.

I “give up” and throw my head back onto the pillow, and there are his eyes. On mine. I can’t believe how hard it is to not look away or turn my head. But I don’t. Instead, I lower my eyelids a little. Rob’s eyes start to close and mine instinctively follow. His lips meet mine. It’s gentle. This kiss is soft and warm and delicious. I can’t feel the bed under me or the air in the room. All I can feel is him pressed against me and the pounding of my heart, and now his. He pulls away for a second, I think to solidify the reality of our first kiss. Somehow through my still closed eyes I can see him smiling. I crack them open but I’m afraid to open them all the way and come rushing back to the reality of my house with my parents downstairs. The light is warm and we’re silhouetted in black against the glow. I see it in perfection. He “mmm”s and I let out a breath I didnt know I was holding in.

“What took you so long?” I whisper jokingly to him through a smile.

He returns the smile with a look like he knew I was thinking that. He was probably thinking it to himself. “I told you I was a nervous young man.” And we dive back in.

 

Tags: dating, firsts, kiss, kissing, make out, memory, relationships, teenagers

Question of the Day

Would I sleep with Barney from How I Met Your Mother? (Check yourself: I’m talking about Barney Stinson. NOT Neil Patrick Harris, because he’d never sleep with me, mainly because I’m female.)

 

The short answer:
Yes.

The long answer:
Well. He’s attractive enough. Mostly it’s the cockiness that makes him doable. And despite his normal prey (dumb, hot, and stupid), I think I’d let him hit on me for a while. If he made me laugh or surprised me with some really clever pick up move, It would just impress me, not turn me off. I’m smart enough to know not to trust anything he’d say, and smart enough to know it would be a good time. I’d be down.

Plus, we have a lot in common.
(Hint: we’re both awesome.)

 

Tags: funny, how i met your mother, i would, question, tv, yes

This Is Why I Love

Forever 21!

It was the very. last. one.

I swapped out the punk belt for a brown braided one, it’s much better.

 

Tags: clothes, deals, forever 21, love, me, products, shopping, stuff