Thursday, February 2, 2012

I feel pretty #3: Glamour as coping mechanism

I am having one of those days when I am super irritable and seriously don't want anyone to come within a ten feet radius of me unless it's to give me a hug or a massage. No, it's not PMS, I don't get that anymore. Realistically it's being overextended with work, socializing, grad school apps, etc. I don't have the mental resources to write a deep essay about fat shaming or gender identity or "what counts as rape" or the politics of dealing with abuse in BD/SM scene right now, even though these are all things on my radar right now. I am weary, and I havent gone to the gym or had a home cooked meal or gotten enough sleep in a while, so instead, I am going to blog about the little things that keep me sort of sane-ish.


Nice lingerie. Lane Bryant's Valentines Day line has got some nice pieces, y'all. I am $200 poorer, but richer 5 bras and 12 new pairs of sexy panties.(There is nothing wrong with having 10 bras and 30+ pairs of underwear- you can do laundry less often and they last longer!) I wear sexy lingerie on a daily basis, I'm French like that. I'm wearing frilly purple mesh ones today:

Coconut oil. I've come to the conclusion that this is my 100% favorite way to moisturize. I am annoyed by the process of moisturizing my whole body, btws. It seems so fricken cumbersome to have to do my face, whole body and feet everyday, but it's worth it. Anyway, Coconut oil is cheap and makes your skin feel incredible, you can get it at Trader Joe's for like $6 now, and a bottle will last you awhile. Digging it out with a spoon is annoying, so I am thinking I want to develop a system where I liquify the jar (with heat) pour it into a rectangular pan, refrigerate and then cut it into single-portion pieces that can be used post-shower, or thrown into bath water. Better yet, I might use my silicone heart-shaped ice cube tray from IKEA. You can also mix it with sea salt for a body scrub. Also, it allegedly clears up keratosis pilaris (bumpy skin) according to my editor at XO Jane.

Yup, that's a fakegagement ring. 
Getting a manicure. My new favorite salon is BYOB, plays old Sex and the City episodes on a nonstop   loop, and is walkable from my office. My favorite nail tech is an awesome Ukrainian lady named Nellie who kindly painted my hands and toes and rich royal blue while I ate gold leaf adorned mini Valhrona cupcakes from More and drank Vinho Rose, which is my new favorite $5 wine from Trader Joes. Fancy nails make me happy all week. 



Getting my regular sex toy delivery from EdenFantasys. I got my friend Stricknine the Tentacle as a birthday present, and Pipedream's Icicles #18 for myself. I love the #17 so much that I bought it for two of my friends, and the #18 looks pretty fantastic, too! I know sex toys are not technically beauty products but they count as self-pampering as far as I'm concerned. 

The new Lush Gorilla Perfume exclusive line. I bought the $25 mini sampler at the shop, which features 8 of their new only-online fragrances. It's always a bit hit or miss with them, but I love about half of the new scents. BScent is probably my favorite so far, and it smells like grapefruit, rose and fennel, very fresh and natural. My other favorites include Dear John, which is supposedly coffee, pine and lime, but really smells a lot like Gammel Dansk or Underberg Bitters to me, which is less gross than it sounds. Cocktail is hard to describe- it's like, root beer, gin and tonic, and heady florals mixed up. I generally don't trust Lush's descriptions of their scents (seriously, they never make sense), but their assessment of Superworld Unknown is pretty accurate: "Scents of a carnival in a single perfume. Cotton candy, toffee apples and the seaside." I hate the smell of cotton candy and toffee apples, yet I love this perfume. It smells like teenage misadventure, and this Dead Can Dance song:


I've been keeping my little perfume samples in a box on my desk at work and I sniff them when I need a pick me up. They aren't super long last, but they certainly are a lot of fun.

In other beauty news, my friend DDD wrote a little tribute post about her erotic fixation with her electric toothbrush, so check that out too!

Tell me of your beauty pick me ups, lovers!

Monday, January 30, 2012

Sex Toy Spotlight: Le-Highs and Le-Los

Welcome to Sex Toy Spotlight, a new feature (I'm all about mixing it up), where I examine a range of products from the same product line.

Not to be confused with Leeloo.
You sex toy nerds out there may be familiar with Lelo, a Swedish company that specializes in Luxury sex toys. Over the past 20 years or so, the sex toy industry has really changed from a niche market associated with shame, poor-quality rubber, and perviness, to a more mainstream acceptable thing. This is great because it means better toys at better prices (glass and silicone in particular have become a lot more affordable.) And I imagine that woman-oriented, luxury-branded companies like Lelo and Jimmyjane are largely to thank for these shifts. Remember when Kate Moss bought that $400 gold Jimmyjane vibrator? Lelo also makes a line of gold-plated toys, including this $1200 buttplug that comes with matching cuff links.

As a Taurus who loves to pamper myself, I am kind of fascinated with Lelo as the industry standard for luxury toys. However, I have also been somewhat let down by many of their products. I also think that they intentionally overcharge for certain items. For example: Olga, the stainless steel version of the Ella dildo, clocks in at a whopping $351, over three times the price of the equally luxe and considerably larger Njoy Pure Wand. Nevertheless, I am impressed by the beautiful packaging (it looks like a jewelry box), quality and features of these toys, and keep coming back for more (even when maybe I shouldn't!) Here's a brief overview of the Lelos I've tried, and my thoughts on each.

Bo Pleasure Object

I am a fan of vibrating cock rings, so I was very excited by the prospect of a non-disposable, rechargeable version. There's a second, slightly more powerful version with multiple vibration patterns called the Tor, but I opted for the Bo in the interest of price. I am sad to say that as a cock ring, Bo is Bo-ring. The vibration strength is not any better than your average $15 disposable cock ring, and the hard plastic, trapezoid-shaped vibrator can be uncomfortable against one's lady bits. It works ok, but is not worth the extra cost. Read my full review here.
Price: $72
Worth it: No. Save your money, and buy the the disposable kind.

Ella
At $44, Ella is very affordable as far as Lelo goes. She's not a vibrator, but rather a silicone, shankbone-shaped G-spot dildo that my friend described as looking like a piece of Danish Modern furniture. She's also TINY. Having discovered the pure wand, there was no way this demure dildo could satisfy me. I know a lot of folks adore Ella, so you might enjoy her if you prefer smaller dildos. Read my full review here.
Price: $44
Worth it: It depends. It's inexpensive enough that it might be worth a shot if you want a beginner-level G spot toy.


Nea

Nea is the only Lelo vibe I've found so far that I truly cannot live without. As a fan of bullet vibes, I was thrilled to find a cordless, rechargeable bullet-type vibe that I can take with me EVERYWHERE. The tiny size (only 3" long), intense vibrations, ergonomic shape and elegant cherry blossom adornment make this vibrator perfect in my eyes. However, a lot of reviewers have complained that it's not powerful enough to get them off. Read my full review here.
Price: $89
Worth it: Hell yes, but only if you like bullet vibes.


Siri

Siri is like a larger, silicone version of Nea. Unfortunately that means the vibrations are more diffuse and the toy can feel unwieldy. I couldn't reach orgasm using the regular vibration setting, though 4 of the 5 other  patterns were able to get me over the edge. Pretty toy, but I decided to give her to a friend who likes very mild stimulation, because she wasn't doing much for me. Read my full review here.
Price: $99
Worth it: Only if you can get off from diffuse vibrations. I found the Nea to be a better toy for less money.

Insignia Soraya

I can't speak to the Soraya as an owner, because I only used it once, but I'll weigh in regardless. The Soraya is rabbit-style vibrator from the fancier "Insignia" line, with two motors. I found it worked well as a rabbit, and was able to have an orgasm with it, though it took a while. I liked it, but consider the price tag on this piece to be insane.
Price: $195
Worth it: It's a nice toy but there's nothing that justify the high cost to me.



Lelo Personal Moisturizer
This lube is glycerin, propylene glycol, and paraben free, good news for people with sensitivities. It does contain many mysterious "botanical"  ingredients like guarana and ginseng, which I would prefer to be in an energy drink rather than my vagina. I am glad I got this lube as a freebie, because it gets sticky very quickly and gums up, and it tastes soooo gross. Read my full review here.
Price: $25
Worth it: No. There are better lubes for a cheaper price.



Flickering Touch Massage Oil
This is probably the most luxurious massage oil you will find, as it contains 24 karat gold dust, and it comes in a bottle that looks like it should contain fancy perfume! It's made from a light, silky blend of apricot kernel, grape seed and jojoba oils. I found it works best as a body oil/lotion- it absorbs well, gives you skin a nice glow, but is not really thick enough for a long massage. I got musk and lily scent, but I could barely smell it, which I suppose is an advantage for some, but I would have liked a little more fragrance. Read my full review here.
Price: $39
Worth it: Maybe. I like it as a luxury body lotion, but it's pretty pricy.

Overall grade for Lelo: 6/10. I adore my Nea, but the rest of the products I've tried have left me with mixed feelings. I appreciate the beautiful design of these toys, the rechargeable convenience, the innovation (the Mia, which I haven't tried yet, can be charged via USB port), the gorgeous packaging, and all the other little amenities. But I don't feel like Lelo actually delivers on a level to match the hype surrounding the brand. I also suspect that they artificially inflate the prices of their toys to support their "luxury" image. I haven't purchased any of the new line of remote-controlled Insignia toys for this reason- they cost a bundle, and I've heard that they're not all that great. The Nea and the Massage Oil are probably the only items I really loved, and I probably wouldn't purchase the massage oil again because of the high price tag. I'd be curious to know if any of my readers had a great experience (or terrible) with a Lelo item that they'd like to share!

This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys (all opinions expressed are my own), awesome retailer of vibrators, dildos, and other fine sex toys!

Sex toys - EdenFantasys adult toys store

Friday, January 27, 2012

I feel pretty #2: Obsessed with Brushes

In part two of Roman Scandal's personal style guide, I want to talk about something important: brushes for every part of your body.
 My babies
I am going to admit that I still don't own any decent makeup brushes (I've been using the same cheap ones for years), so I am going to talk about other kinds of brushes today: tooth brushes, face brushes, and body brushes!

I'mma bite you.
First off, I need to give a shout out to my Phillips Sonicare electric toothbrush. This puppy will run you about $100, but if you consider the thousands of dollars I've poured into dental work, that's not a bad deal. Especially given my love of chocolate and coffee. (I have maybe half of my real teeth left). The first time I used one of these (at a boyfriend's house, he was classy and had a spare head for me), I proclaimed "I FEEL LIKE MY MOUTH HAS BEEN FUCKED CLEAN!" Because yeah, this is like a dental sex toy. (Don't get me started about dental fetishists, it's a thing.) It's great for idiots like me who can never figure out the proper "brush in a circular motion at a 45 degree angle for 2 minutes" thing with a manual toothbrush. The great thing is you just pop the electric toothbrush in your mouth hole, and it does its thing with perfection and grace. And you really will have better checkups if you use it in tandem with flossing and mouthwash. Speaking of, Oral B Glide Pro-Health is the only floss I use, and I do floss everyday. My crazy ex who actually was a dental fetishist turned me onto it, and it's so slippery and easy to use, and never shreds. Totally worth the extra money. I should probably look into some whitening products too, given my love of coffee, but people with suuuuper white teeth gross me out, so I'll probably stick to whitening paste for now.

Not my booty!
Next up, is my Fantasea Natural Bristle Body Brush. I got sucked into reading some hippie propaganda about dry brushing, and how it helps your skin detox, is great for exfoliation, reduces cellulite etc...You  use a natural bristle brush (Which will run you anywhere from $5-$30, depending on what you buy) all over your dry body before you shower (to wash off any dead skin). I don't know if the health benefits are real, but it feels really amazing. I was expecting it to hurt, but it actually feels really nice and tingly, and I feel good all over after doing it. Plus my skin does seems noticeably smoother. I'm going to try it for a few weeks and report back. I also want one with a handle for my back!


The Clarisonic Mia. Any coincidence that Lelo makes a vibrator with the same name? And how many housewives abuse this for "alternate" uses?
My friend who is getting married (and hence, wants awesome skin) talked me into getting an electric face brush too. Clarisonic is the best known brand, but Olay makes a version that's a third of the price. I have no idea if the Clarisonic one is truly better, but the Olay one works pretty damn well. I am super obsessive and vain about my skin, ever since a brief stint working at Lush in my late twenties. My office's bathroom has RUTHLESS lighting, and I am guilty of spending a lot of time examining my pores, since I have an OCD obsession with blackheads and excising them. My skin is actually pretty nice, but it can ALWAYS BE BETTER! You put cleanser on your face, turn this thing on, and soft bristles oscillate over your skin, gently exfoliating and digging crap out of your pores. I enjoyed using this thing for the first time last night, since like the electric toothbrush, it's kind of like a vibrator for your face. I am also looking forward to hopefully having more obsessively perfect pores, since everyone I know who has one swears by it.

Now, I need to know your skincare and dental hygiene obsessions! TELL MEEEE!

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

I feel pretty #1: Contacts Vs. Glasses

I don't do a lot of product reviews on here besides my sex toy reviewing, but let it be known that I'm also into clothes and beauty products, and that comes up here and there. (I recently wrote a piece for XOJane about my obsession with men's fragrances. You should also read the unrelated piece I wrote about Capoeira too). So I've decided to do a series of posts about my style and beauty regimen. And I want to hear what you do too! So let's talk vain shit today, shall we?

TOPIC #`1: Contact lenses vs. glasses!

I had perfect vision until my late 20s, when I discovered that I have an astigmatism and I'm slightly nearsighted in both eyes. (I still get away with not wearing glasses most of the time, but it's impossible for me to read far away signs or menus that are posted on walls). I am still on the fence about contacts vs. glasses. I just ordered new glasses from Zenni Optical (I love Zenni, even though the last two pairs I got from them broke).
I like that wearing glasses makes me look like a smart blonde, but they also make me look even more like an andro lesbian that I already do.(Oh, stereotypes!)

I'm a "gay man trapped in a woman's body," not a lesbian. SHEESH!
Also, I feel like glasses actually make my vision worse when I wear them a lot. And it creeps me out to see all the pores on someone's face. They feel like a weird kind of barricade when I'm talking to someone, so I tend to take them off in short range vision situations, but then I stick them on top of my head, and they get oily, or I have to find the case, which is a pain in the butt.

OTOH, there's contacts. Brazilian Maik accuses me of talking about my taxes and contact lenses too much, but whatever. I wear Focus Monthly Soft Colors, and vacillate between the three shades: Royal blue (which makes my blue eyes darker, Dune blue), Aqua (which makes my eyes vivid turquoise) and Evergreen, (which makes my eyes startlingly green). I like my natural eye color fine, but it's fun to mix things up, and these lenses have just a sheer layer of tint that tweaks your natural color if you have light eyes. Fun fact: the Optometrist that did my lens exam was named Dr. Glasscock, and was suuuuuper gay. He doesn't work at my Target Optical anymore, though.

The spice must flow.
Is it weird to have schizophrenic eye color? I guess I need an additional cosmetic factor to make contacts worth the price and bother for me. But I'm also super lazy about wearing them, so I develop the same complex I get when I pay for a gym membership and don't go very often. I wore my last pack maybe 10 times out of 30 days, so I am thinking I will take a break from them for a few months to save money. Another thing that annoys me about these lenses is it's really hard to tell which side is up, and sometimes both sides hurt. It took me literally an hour to learn how to put my lenses in for the first time because my eyeballs were literally like DO NOT WANT and rejecting them! It was way worse than losing my anal sex virginity. And then sometimes I rub my eye and it gets bunched up under my eyelid and I'm on a crowded train or something. So yeah, I'm not 100% sold on contacts either.

Which do you prefer, my blind friends?

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Mythical Vagina

A crayon diagram I made for a a workshop I taught on G Spot orgasms, which are REAL, dammit.
Huffington Post ran this thing a few days ago: "G-Spot Does Not Exist, 'Without A Doubt,' Say Researchers." Actually what the research indicates is that there isn't a distinct structure that can be labeled the "G Spot" other than a cluster of clitoral nerves, prostatic glands, and the urethral sponge. In wholly phallocentric terms, the front wall of the vagina can be viewed as the undescended penile shaft, with the clitoris as the head of the penis (since, after all, both genital structures start out the same), with  the prostate located on the front wall of the vagina. Imagine if the male prostate was located on the underside of the penis. Voila, G Spot! It is most likely this combination of nerves, glands, and erectile tissue that creates sensitivity in the "G Spot" and other internal sensations. The problem is, not all women have the same concentration of nerves and glands there, so YMMV. Some women may not have any G Spot sensitivity, but that doesn't mean it's "not real." (I swear by this toy for G spot exploration, incidentally- it changed my life.)

Why is female sexual health still so grossly misunderstood? (That's a rhetorical question). I get horrified when I read surveys that indicate that the majority of women don't understand basic vaginal anatomy and have yet to have an orgasm. I want to scream at the researchers who claim that the vagina is totally numb, and the G spot doesn't exist. I am frustrated with the well-meaning sex educators who promote the idea that oral sex is the be-all and end-all of for female orgasm. (It's nice, and should be considered a standard menu item, but I usually need my vibrator and some G spot stimulation to over the edge with a partner.) In addition to the bermuda triangle that is the G Spot, here's a few more vagina myths that drive me nuts.

1. The non-existent hymen.
So, on the topic of parts of the vagina that may or may not exist...
I consider myself something of a sexpert, but my mind was blown when I read this article by Swedish researchers on Scarleteen, a sex education site for teens. Guess what? There is no such thing as the hymen, and there never has been. They have dubbed the structure at the opening of the vagina as the "vaginal corona," which is a more apt description of what it looks/feels like.

Yoinked from Scarleteen.com for educational purposes. 
These findings are interesting to me, as I never perceived any hymen-like membrane to exist on my on body (and yes, I was down there with a mirror as a teenager). Furthermore, my first sexual intercourse  was not painful, and I didn't bleed. I attribute this to the fact that I had experience with masturbation prior to partner sex. I do believe that everyone's first sexual experience should be with themselves, and that one should understand their body to some degree before attempting sex with another person. I also think that teens should have access to sex toys (the hand alone never worked for me) though maybe Laura Berman's suggestion that parents buy a vibrator for their teenage daughter is a little creepy and patronizing. However, I don't think teens should be restricted from using their allowance to pick out their own toys from sex-positive feminists sex toy retailers like EdenFantasys, Good Vibes, Pleasure Chest, Babeland, and so forth. Teenagers are sexual people regardless of what their parents would like to believe, and having a vibrator seems like a pretty healthy and safe sexual outlet to me.

Anyway, back to the hymen. Like I said, I never perceived that I had a hymen and I believed that I'd somehow demolished it by using tampons or riding a bike or any of that other crazy bullshit about how the hymen mysteriously disappears prior to penetration. And guess what? Almost every other woman I've talked to has told me the same thing- they never seemed to have a hymen either. Granted, first intercourse is still painful for many women, but I imagine it has a lot to do with one's individual body and experience level. You probably won't bleed if you're using adequate lubrication and have spent some time on foreplay. Bleeding is a sign that your doing it wrong. What really blows my mind that the concept of the hymen is still so pervasive and important, and that bleeding is considered a sign of legitimacy, glorifying painful and unpleasant sex for women. That so much value is placed upon a structure that DOESN'T EXIST, across history and different cultures. I know the importance of the mythical hymen is tied in with control of women as property, but I'm glad someone (god bless the Swedes) is calling bullshit on this fallacy.

2. Female orgasm and its discontents
I have on several occasions had people express shock when I told them my real weight. At "morbidly obese" 250 pounds, they expect me to be confined to bed, gorging myself on cheese puffs as I slowly die of diabetes. Instead, I'm working out at the gym and wearing form-fitting clothing. I'm currently bigger than I'd prefer to be, but I'm also not a sexless, immobile cautionary tale. And the reason people are shocked by my weight is because we LIE ABOUT OUR WEIGHT. Nobody knows what 250 pounds looks like, or even 150 pounds, because we all think we should be 115 pounds.
This is what "morbid obesity" looks like. I am lounging quite comfortably on my death bed, thank you.
This is not an excuse to talk about my weight, it's an analogy. My point is- women have been faking orgasms for so long that nobody really knows what a real orgasm looks like anymore. I have mixed feelings about the whole faking orgasm phenomenon. Why can't we just admit that we're tired and ready to wrap up a sexual session? There have been many times where I had sex and didn't have a clitoral orgasm (which is kind of hard for me to have), and I still REALLY ENJOYED THE SEX. Orgasms are great, but if orgasm was truly the only objective of partner sex, we'd all stick to masturbation. I want to have the option of an orgasm, but not the obligation.

I guess what bothers me is the idea that women are "supposed" to have orgasms , but they're supposed to be convenient orgasms that happen under somewhat unrealistic circumstances. We're not supposed to pull out the vibrator, or ask our partner to do something differently, or accept the fact that it might take us an hour to get there. We're supposed to have an orgasm from penis in vagina intercourse, but it's somehow supposed be a clitoral orgasm, or a G Spot orgasm that feels like a clitoral orgasm? G Spot orgasms are very real, but they are a very different animal than clitoral ones.

The bottom line is we're supposed to have this amorphous mythical orgasm that's super loud and ego-validating to one's sexual partner, but it's not entirely clear how or why this orgasm is happening.

I recently wanted to watch something dumb while taking a bubble bath, so I put on Natalie Portman's trashy casual sex romcom "No Strings Attached" (which features Greta Gerwig saying things like "TEA FOR YOUR 'GINA!"). There's a scene where Natalie and Ashton Kutcher are having a quickie, and she tells him he has 45 seconds to cum because she has to get to work. He goes for it, and SHE MAGICALLY HAS AN ORGASM TOO.

Ok, I tried to contextualize this as "maybe she's getting a contact high." A contact high is the sort of mini orgasm I get when my partner is coming. I can usually tell when my partner is about to get over the edge, and it usually sends me into a sort of mini climax as well. I wouldn't call it a full blown clitoral orgasm, though. But, the thing is, I don't think that's what's happening here. I think she's faking it, and it makes me sad. Maybe she is that magically orgasmic 1%. But I kinda doubt it.

So let me esplain to you the kind of orgasms I tend to have on any given sexual sessions to give you an idea what it's really like:

1. The Tantric orgasm. Ok, this is kind of vague, but it's the sort of orgasm you get from pure energetic connection, when doing stuff like eye gazing and synchronized breathing, playing with your sexual energy. This may seem confusing if you're not into Tantra, so don't worry about it. It's incredible, but it's not the exact same as the sort of orgasm you get from physical stimulation.

2.The power surge. This tends to happen the first time I hook up with someone. I can have these when simply making out, or during foreplay, or over and over during intercourse. Sometimes people assume I have had my be-all, end-all orgasm when this happens because I am loud and responsive, and then I get pissed off if they stop. Not to be confused with faking, because the feeling is very real, but it is not the same as a clitoral orgasm. This tends to be tied in with very intense arousal for me.

3.The purely clitoral orgasm. I don't have these very often, and when I do I am either A. extremely turned on and B. using my Hitachi. These tend to be super intense and quick, and very physically localized, followed by involuntary contractions. I imagine this is the closest feeling to male orgasm.

4.The G Spot orgasm. This comes about as a result of intense G-spot stimulation and is an equally intense but very different type of orgasm that is deeper, more diffuse, longer lasting, and more of a full body sensation. This may or may not be accompanied by squirting. I can usually induce these much more easily than clitoral orgasms.

5. The blended orgasm, aka the mixed episode, aka the circuit breaker. This usually happens when I'm on the edge clitorally, ramp up the G spot intensity, and have a g spot and clitoral orgasm at the same time. This is usually accompanied by squirting. When this happens during partner sex I am usually exhausted and need a break afterwards because my arousal completely dissipates. When I am playing solo, I can usually do it 5 times in a row because once I've had one, I can usually have a bunch more if I'm running the show for some reason. These tend to require a lot of precise stimulation.

So there ya go. FIVE KINDS OF ORGASMS (six if you count the contact high). I'm not bragging, I'm just saying that the notion of female orgasm is fucking complex and seriously misunderstood. So you ask me if I've come yet, I'll probably say yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm done yet.

Relatedly, here is a short list of things you should NEVER say to me when I'm on edge: 1. Come for me! 2. How many times have you come? 3. I can't wait to hear you come! (Sometimes I have quiet orgasms, even though I have a reputation for being loud.) 4. Are you getting close? 5. Let's come together! Seriously, anything you say to put pressure on your partner to have an orgasm is just going to encourage faking. It is the HUGEST buzzkill for me. By all means, talk dirty to me. But don't make your dirty talk hinge on how you're going to make me come SOOOOOO HARD. No, you're not. Not by telling me that.

So yes, there's a reason I'm writing about vaginas and my orgasms on the internet, because I think these things are misunderstood and need to be talked about more to gain better understanding for the better of everyone. If the research coming out of the scientific community is bullshit, we need to do our own research. It doesn't have to be this scary, politics riddled thing. Sex should be fun, and our bodies are awesome.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Solo Sex Toy Smackdown: The best $85 pillow you'll ever buy.

You may remember that I was underwhelmed by Liberator's pricy "Fascinator Posh Throe" a while back. To be fair, I still use it a lot, just don't think it's well-designed enough to be worth the $85 price tag. However, I was willing to give Liberator a second chance, and took a chance with their famous Wedge pillow. The Wedge is the same price as the throe- $85- although shipping is about $20+ extra because of its large size. It's definitely an investment, but I'm actually really glad I took the plunge with this one.

This picture reminds me of an ergonomic cheesecake pinup!
I've admittedly been craving one of these for a while now. My last relationship was with a man who was a full 12" taller than myself, so certain positions were tricky for us. There was a lot of using multiple pillows or re-purposing household furniture to get things to line up properly. I had the predictable "WHY SHOULD I SPENT $85 ON A FUCK PILLOW, I'LL FIND SOMETHING CHEAPER THAT WORKS" attitude that most people have prior to trying the Liberator Wedge. Trust me, I never found anything cheaper than has worked as well, and I really should have just sprung for the Wedge there and then.

Still not convinced? Here are my reasons why spending the $85 on the Wedge is way better than propping your butt on a stack of regular pillows:

-The foam is ultra-dense and supportive. I have an impressively big ass, and I have had no problem with it supportive my weight/width.

-The elevation is just about perfect at 7", not too high or too low for most purposes. If you want even more elevation, there are other a multitude of alternatives like the Ramp (the basic model will run you about about $150, but it's SRS BIZNIS).

-The cushion has a waterproof cover, and an zippered, washable velvet outer cover, which means that is you get stuff on it, you can throw the cover in the washing machine, or even rinse it out by hand.

-It's helpful for a vast multitude of sex acts- oral, fisting, doggy style, missionary (for people who have height differential), even for giving foot rubs! It's also great for masturbation since I find the elevation makes it easier to angle my toys. And it can even double as an in-bed laptop desk or yoga prop (it's great for stretching your lower back, hips and hamstrings). Yes, the potential uses are endless.

Seriously, I love this thing. Yes, it's pricy. Yes, it's worth it. It's extremely well designed, and makes even the most pedestrian sex acts a billion times more comfortable and pleasurable. If I were Oprah, I would give one to every audience member. That's just how good it is!

This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys (all opinions expressed are my own), awesome retailer of vibrators, dildos, and other fine sex toys!

Sex toys - EdenFantasys adult toys store

Monday, January 9, 2012

The art of the post-undergrad angst film


For some reason I've been drawn to media pertaining to post-undergraduate angst, for reasons unclear to myself. I'm 31 years old, actually work full time in the field I got my bachelors in (though I'm going back to grad school to change fields), and have done quite a lot of amazing shit in the ten years since I graduated. Lest you think I'm bragging, I'll admit that I've also had the requisite shit jobs, the existential angst, and ill-advised relationships. So I'm not quite sure what inspired me to re-watch Reality Bites other than this article on Jezebel:

It was remarked recently that you know when you're a grown up when you no longer find Ethan Hawke's scruffy, smart-ass character in Reality Bites charming, but see him as the dirty hipster he is.

I'm officially a grown up, I guess. Though, to be fair, I didn't find him attractive the first time I saw the movie, when I was 14. I was too busy crushing on clean shaven, manorexic goth dudes I guess.

I see the value of this movie, but much like the Catcher in the Rye, the first time I saw it I was too young to understand it, and the second time I was too old to relate to it. I mean, what the hell was so wrong about Ben Stiller's character, anyway? Maybe he had a corporate job (though it really could have been a lot worse) and a cell phone (omg, early adopter!) but unlike Ethan, he actually treated Winona like he cared about her instead like some manic pixie dream boy. I didn't buy the happily ever after shit at the end, either.

Besides marking the death of Winona Ryder's acting career, this film kind of makes me think that despite all the Gen X vs. Gen Y kerfuffle, post-undergraduate angst is one of those things that is always kind of the same. It's part of the reason the Graduate is still enjoyable 45 YEARS (WHAT??!!!) after it was released in 1967.

Case in point: Tiny Furniture.


I watched this indie (NOT MUMBLECORE!) film Friday night after going home sick from work. There is no specific reason I watched this as a follow-up to reality bites, but it's eerily similar in many regards. Young female filmmaker Aura graduates college, hangs around with friends, gets involved with bad men, can't find job, alienates family. This film is kind of Lena Dunham's vanity project- she wrote the screenplay, directed, and starred in it (one assumes it's loosely based on her own life, as her IRL mom and sister play her mom and sister). She could collaborate with Vincent Gallo and create the most narcissistic film known to humanity. This movie is full of sadness and fail, eliciting a mixture of disgust and pity as Aura wears mini sundresses with bike shorts (at least Reality Bites had the excuse of actually being set in the 90s), begs to sleep in her mom's bed, constantly looks like she needs to wash her hair (but not in the salon-styled faux dirty hair sense), and has bareback sex in a junk yard with a creepy weasel who can't even show up to mooch drugs off of her. Yes, this movie is realistic rather vulnerable, but it also kind of made me want to throw up. I guess I like seeing movies about real people who actually look like real, but movies about real people being pathetic and cringeworthy makes my soul bleed. The whole time I kept thinking of this goth chick I knew in college who left the room during an early Todd Solondz film because she "didn't find ugly people to be entertaining." That seems like a horrible assessment of this film, but I swear it's not directed so much at Aura as just the entire film being as kind of uncomfortably stale and sweaty as Aura's sheets.

The final item in this trifecta of angst is this song from Kanye West's "The College Dropout" which I downloaded last weekend:


(Yes, I realize that this was his first album, but Graduation was actually my first Kanye album. I'm kind of disappointed that the last one wasn't called "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Post-Doc." But I digress.)

Working at the Gap was a major theme in Reality Bites, too. But this song captures the sheer misery of working retail with astounding accuracy, in the context of an album with themes about how college is probably overrated.

But yeah, where the hell is that spaceship, anyway?

Friday, January 6, 2012

Why meditation might be a better idea than dieting.

I apologize that the updates have been few and far between these days, the holidays were cray-cray and I have grad school essays to write.

So, 2012. I am not quite ready for it to be a new year. 2011 was about making positive transformations and letting go of things that were no longer working. That felt amazing. 2012 is about embracing new things and watching them manifest. That is by far, much more terrifying. (For the record, although the American empire is clearly falling apart, I'm not particularly concerned about the world ending. The Mayans themselves don't actually believe that crap.)

My only new years resolution is to have my important conversations off-line. I have blogged a fair amount about how upsetting internet flame wars can be, especially when related to causes (like queer rights and feminism) that matter a lot to me. I get IRL upset when someone who has no idea who I really am flings accusations at me. Unfortunately, I spend a lot of time behind my computer with my day job, and my limited time/energy to be social so it's a convenient venue to discuss important issues, but again, not an ideal one. I guess this is part of why I'm returning to graduate school: to conduct intellectual discourse with warm bodies. So anyway- I'm doing my best to stay away from internet drama in 2012, which is semi-challenging given that I'm a regular blogger for several websites, and I semi-regularly write about touchy issues. I'm going to do my damndest, though.

So the classic New Years resolution is weight loss, yes?

I've been meaning to write another angsty fatty post for a while now. I gained about 20 pounds in the past 8 months. Not coincidentally, this was the exact same amount I lost 2 summers ago during the highly effective if involuntary broken refrigerator diet. Not coincidentally, this weight gain correlated with a number of stressful/intense factors in my life, most of which are too private to talk about here. This was kind of psychologically devastating for me after over 2 years of either maintaining or losing weight. I think this maintenance was largely attributable to going to the gym a lot, and doing a lot of demanding yoga and pilates classes. Exercise has never enabled me to lose weight, but for some reason it keeps me from gaining new weight. I decided to apply for grad school last April, and suddenly things like volunteer work and conferences papers were sucking up my gym time. I think this is mostly what led to the weight gain, though I notice that if I gain more than 5 pounds there's a sort of snowball effect.

I recently read this article in the New York times that is vastly depressing. It spells out a lot of things I already knew- that dieting wrecks your metabolism, that it's incredibly difficult to maintain major weight loss, and that a lot of why our bodies are the way they are is genetic. The message it seems to leave is that it's important to eat healthy and exercise, but that these things won't necessarily lead to a major or permanent weight loss without drastic measures and constant vigilance. I certainly have found this to be true. I have never dieted perse, though I tend to go through phases where I am more careful where I eat, and phases where my dietary choices are largely dictated by stress and exhaustion. I have lost weight about three times in my adult lifetime (50 pounds in Japan, and 20 pounds twice in Chicago). Every single time it has come back. Every single time it comes back, it is harder to lose.

So here's the thing. I really do feel like I do the best I can given my circumstances. I have a gym membership, and I go as often as my schedule permits. (Unfortunately sometimes it's a choice between working out or some other, equally important lifestyle thing.)I cook at home and eat plenty of fruits and vegetables and protein and whatnot. I understand nutrition. And sometimes I don't fucking know why I get fat. Yes, I drink wine and eat cookies on a regular basis. But I did these things for those two years that I didn't gain any weight as well.

The hardest part is having my doctor make assumptions about my lifestyle and tell me that I'm an unhealthy weight when all my tests indicate that I am, in fact, healthy.

The hardest part is thinking about it every day. Wondering what my fatness has cost me as a member of society- not in terms of dollars, but in terms of discrimination. Feeling torn by my fat positive politics, and the constant external pressure from everywhere. Feeling depressed when my old clothes don't fit. Feeling unattractive and self conscious, and out of control because my body won't behave, and because I can't maintain the extreme lifestyle I'd need to actually lose a significant amount of weight, and keep it off against the odds.

This shit is exhausting, y'all.

I got into it with my gynecologist the last time I had a pap smear. She did her best to be compassionate, but I still felt seriously fucking judged. Her reasoning was that she used to be overweight but then went to Weight Watchers and had managed to stay magically thin ever since.

I think it is hard for people to empathize when they don't have the genetic pre-disposition for being fat (I only have to look at my family to understand that I do), when they aren't biologically wired for food addiction. For the record, being eating disordered is NOT the same as having a drug or alcohol dependency. It is harder on a certain level because you can't quit eating cold turkey. (Well, you can, but it's not a good idea.) And it is hard because our society is just so completely fucked up about food. It's true that people in Japan and Europe are generally thinner than Americans, but they also care a lot more about eating food that isn't total shit. And believe it or not, many of those enviably thin French and Japanese women are legitimately anorexic or otherwise eating disordered- I've observed it first hand. I know that part of the reason I lost so much weight in Japan was the overwhelming social pressure. I was treated so much better when I did.

So, I am also trying to move away from narcissistic OMG MY LIFE IS SO FUCKED type rants, and be pro-active about what I can do to make things better. So here goes.

So yesterday I went to see a nurse practitioner (not my usual doctor) to have a burn looked at (ironing accident, whee!) When she got around to the "let's talk about your general health" part of my visit, I bristled. "I know I've gained weight recently and I know why." I told her defensively. "I wasn't even planning on bringing it up," she said, a little put off. "But is there anything you want to change?" And I broke it down for her, that I exercise and generally eat pretty healthy, but that I'm also biologically wired for fatness, and that I eat to cope with stress. The funny thing is this isn't necessarily learned behavior. My mom says that as a baby I wanted to nurse until I would literally puke. I was born an overeater. Awesome.

I'm also person who is pretty much never stressed out- that's another major health challenge for me, is that I am very susceptible to anxiety and burnout. Some of this is physiological, some of this could be attributed to the fact that I was hospitalized with severe asthma attacks as a small child and put on serious stimulants(including one that is no longer used because of the side effects) to keep me alive. I'm glad to be alive, but I'm fairly certain this might have fucked up my nervous system to no small degree. It doesn't take much for me to get stuck in fight or flight mode.

Anyway, the cool thing about this nurse was instead of telling me to go on diet (least helpful advice ever), she told me that I should consider working on managing my stress. And this actually was helpful advice. If stress is the underlying factor for my bad food choices (which, apart from the fat issue, affect my health in general), then maybe treating the stress directly is more productive that beating myself up for my emotional eating as a response to stress. Yesterday was the final day of a week-long staycation where I managed to keep myself perpetually stressed out by trying to catch up on a massive backlog of personal tasks ranging from house work to grad school essays to freelancing assignments. It wasn't really relaxing or fun. So I went home, and blew off the gym and working on writing, and I spent two hours away from the computer, stretching and meditating and re-building my altars.

I think the hardest part for me is that putting aside time to deal with stress often means neglecting other things- but if I'm calmer, I can probably get more done. Doing yoga or even just lying on the floor twenty minutes is generally less appealing than the dopamine laced physical dissociation of dicking off online for an hour, but I feel a whole lot better afterwards. This should be obvious, but I tend to forget it. It's not going to happen unless I actively make it happen.

I actually attempted to sign up for a weekly meditation class today to this end, but it was full. So instead I'm going to see if I can set my timer for an hour every day to spend an hour offline, getting back into my body and reality after being locked in the desk job and commute cage for ten hours every day. The truth is, I FORGET to do this. I'm in denial of how stressed out I get, or I get self-defeating and hopeless, convinced that nothing I do will make it better, longing for escape. But I'm giving myself permission to neglect other things I could hypothetically be doing to take this time every day, in the hopes it will become habitual.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Your assumptions are killing me (don't fucking tell me what to do!)



Ok, this is a wack post where I rehash something that someone did on the internet that hurt me, but I need to get it off my chest.

I am currently feeling kind of upset because someone called me a "straight woman" to justify their opinion that I am dehumanizing my gay friends by referring to them as "my gays" in this article I wrote for XO Jane about enjoying men's fragrances.

Initially the commenter claimed that I'm treating my gay male friends like "dogs or handbags" by calling them "my gays." I replied that that's a super fucking demeaning slant that they're projecting onto my words, that has nothing to do with me. As far as I'm concerned, saying "my gays" is my equivalent of saying "my girls." My gays ARE my girls. We get together and paint our nails and drink cocktails and listen to records and gossip. And they were able to offer me some wonderful insight into the psychology behind selecting a perfume that I doubt any of my other friend demographics would be able to provide.

Then comes out the big guns of the Oppression Olympics:

Commenter accuses me of objectifying gay men because I am a "straight woman."

Readers, you know this already, but I DO NOT identify a straight woman.

If they had actually paid attention to the article there are hints that this may not actually be the case. But clearly this assumption is based on the fact that I'm FAAB (female-assigned at birth), and sleep with men.

In simplest terms, I am genderfluid/androgynous person who is pansexual, with a preference for masculine or androgynous people. I also identify as girlfag, an identity which is very fucking real, and also very fucking misunderstood. I am ok with having female or male pronouns used to describe me, (I am not a fan of zir or they for myself), and I will not get upset with you either way.

I've already written a bit about how PC policing in online communities (and IRL to some degree) is sometimes seriously counter productive. I do care about being sensitive to people's feelings, nor do I wish to be hurtful/hateful. But there also some ways where I feel that it's inappropriate to "call out" strangers, especially around controversial issues like reclaimed words (such as slut, fag, fatty, etc.) You don't know what that word means to that person, and telling them they can't say something because you perceive it as subjectively offensive feels a bit controlling and hostile. Personally, I LOVE reclaimed words. A lot of people hate them. I respect an individual's disdain for reclaimed words, and their choice not to use them. However, I DON'T think that gives them the right to tell me not to use me not to use them. Because guess what- my personal politics are also valid in this case. I am not a frat boy saying "THAT'S SO GAY" for funzies. If I want to call myself a girlfag, that's my FUCKING IDENTITY, and not an attack on anyone else. The people who attempt to online white knight for the rights of the queer community need to realize that I'm also member of the queer community, and I have rights, too.

Maybe the problem is it's too difficult to explain the nuances of these issues in online communities, but unfortunately it seems like this is where a lot of these discussions happen. A friend described me as being on the "bleeding edge" of queer identity, and that's going to lead to a lot of misunderstanding/invisibility. Trust me folks, I tried being a straight girl- it didn't work. I am not, in fact, a straight girl, even if you think I look like one. Nor am I a lesbian, which seems to be the other thing that people I assume I am.

I don't really care that much if people I assume I am a straight/lesbian woman based on my appearance if they are not an asshole about it. If it's a situation where I feel that it's important to explain that I'm not, then I will. What is 100% not cool is to use your assumption that I am a straight women to justify attacking my choice of language.

I'm a writer. I write like I talk. If you don't know me, you might misconstrue some of the things I say. I'm happy to explain my intent, if you're actually willing to listen to me. But I am not going to contort my voice to the point of extinction to attempt to avoid offending your easily-provoked sensibilities. Mutual respect is the name of the game. If you really think I'm truly being an ignorant asshole, call me out on it, but don't fucking attack me based on assumptions about who I am when you don't know me, and accept that I may have a totally different (and valid) take on things.

I have come to the conclusion that the Oppression Olympics is just another form of trolling. My New Year's resolution is to stop feeding the trolls.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

What's in your ho-liday ho-bag?



I admit it, "ho" is one of my favorite reclaimed words. Theoretically short for "hooker" or "whore," ho can imply not a sex worker but a sexually adventurous individual and seems more playful than "slut." Today we are going to reclaim the word "ho bag." Ho-bag is historically an insult, but today I am going to show you how to make your own ho bag, a very useful thing to have around this season when people are getting drunk at ho-liday parties and ho-oking up. Don't be caught unprepared- carry your ho-bag with you at all times!

Step One:
Find your ho bag. Cosmetics pouches work well for this purpose. If you just want to carry a few condoms and single serving lube packets, you could get this incredibly discreet and swanky condom compact. But if you hoping to throw in a vibrator or a toothbrush as well, go bigger- this silver snakeprint pouch by Devine Toys has an elegantly slutty vibe, and is big enough to tote some serious swag!

All the better if your ho-bag resembles an actual vag.
Step Two:
Stuff your ho-bag with safer sex stuff! I personally love the Beyond Seven studded condoms, and consider carrying some extra large condoms if you're a size queen. (While we are on the subject of Magnums, I'd like to publicly ask men with average sized cocks to STOP INSISTING ON USING MAGNUMS IF YOU DON'T ACTUALLY NEED THEM. Buying Magnum condoms does not magically make your dick bigger, but it does increase the risk of the condom slipping off during sex. Your dick is perfect the way it is, buy condoms that fit it properly.) Also gloves, female condoms, dental dams, whatever your barriers of choice are.
My favorite porta-lube! Pic courtesy of EdenFantasys.com.

You'll also want some lube. I dislike single serving lube packets (too messy and hard to use), but I love the 1oz bottle of System Jo Agape lube. It's tiny but holds a decent amount of a fantastic water-based lube, has a convenient and leak-proof snap top, and is refillable! At $6 what's not to love?

Step Three:
Sleepover stuff. This might include a travel toothbrush- they have those teeny tiny pre-toothpasted disposable ones now, though I havent tried them yet. A pair of clean underwear is always nice, too. These ones are cute, and available up to 3X! If you're not the sleepover type, pack a $20 for cab fare!

Step Four:

Fun stuff! A small vibrator is always nice. Jimmyjane makes an inexpensive yet totally classy bullet vibe that runs on watch batteries and is the perfect size for your ho-bag. If you're a luxury addict, the Lelo Nea or the We Vibe Salsa (shown at left) are two tiny but powerful, rechargeable options! Toy/body wipes are nice, too!

Depending on your tastes, and the size of your ho-bag, you could also pack a butt plug, a nipple clamps, a cock ring, etc...

What do you put in your ho-bag (if you have one?) Have fun and play safe!

This post was sponsored by EdenFantasys (all opinions expressed are my own), awesome retailer of vibrators, dildos, and other fine sex toys!

Sexy Christmas gifts from EdenFantasys - the sex toys shop you can trust!