This sadly hasn’t been updated for a while because we’ve all been too busy to meet up. Luckily we got back together on a snowy Boston evening and caught up over the results of my new cupcake baking obsession. A has moved on from the semi famous musician to a semi famous local dj. He’s a total gentleman, wants to actually date her (which she finds entirely shocking) and has a fancy well paying day job. Apparently she doesn’t mind that he’s “not so attractive” because he has a good job and treats her like the romcoms say you’re supposed to. But even if someone isn’t magazine pretty, when you really like them, don’t you find them attractive? DJ boy is adorable, and though he’s not an abercrombie model, I’d never call him “not attractive.” So how long can she fake the passion and attraction for in return for stability before she gets bored? I’m entirely invested upon finding out. C is still in limbo with her wannabe-actor-current-applestore-genius. They’ve been welded at the hip for six months, exchanged christmas gifts, taken a roadtrip, and he still won’t call her his girlfriend despite her constantly calling him her boyfriend behind his back. A filled me in that while C loved his christmas gift (who wouldn’t love an iPhone?) he returned the ones from her. A is convinced theyre both fooling themselves, and when he leaves for LA in six months, he’ll never take her. “She’s too available,” A explained on the treadmill beside me yesterday. “For sex or dinner or just going to the movies, she’ll ditch everyone for him. Too available!” Then we got glared at, which never deters A, and she started in on me for not being available enough. That’s probably true, but hey, I don’t want to get ditched when he leaves for California. Maybe we all suck at dating, just in different ways.

I lie about the stupidest shit

It’s never anything cool. I don’t tell people I’m a ninja (not like that’s a lie) or even anything that would make me look more like a classy lady - I don’t swear, I can’t eat an entire large pizza alone, I don’t serenade my loved ones to off-key classic rock ballads on a regular basis.

No, it’s always about the stupid little things that will somehow come back to bite you in the ass. In bed last Saturday, for some reason, instead of saying something cool like, yeah, I’m a four time Olympic gold gymnast, I told the guy I was with that feet freak me out. Oh, context? Don’t worry, he wasn’t shoving his feet in my face or anything. You would have seen me running down Atwells at 4 a.m. I probably should have used a lie when he told me he wanted to stay up with me all night. Then, I should have dropped a lie so it seemed like I didn’t have massive insomnia problems and had been awake for 48 hours already and might fall asleep mid naked happy baby pose. Instead, as I was flopped down on the bottom of the bed, turned around wrong-ways - not for some fun, previously unknown sex move, but because I wanted to see if the room looked any different from this angle (it doesn’t) - he grabbed my feet and for some reason I said, ‘motherfucker, feet freak me out.’

This isn’t entirely true. I don’t mind my own feet. They’re somewhat freakishly small which makes shoe buying shitty because they only ever have a few pairs of size six. I don’t have finger toes or bunions or webbed toes. I had a cute pedicure and everything. But I’m compelled to lie for no reason on a regular basis.

And it’s stuff like this that will come back and bite me in the ass. Somehow, this will be the guy I marry, and he’ll forever think feet freak me out. We’ll have to always wear our shoes in the house. I’ll never get a foot rub again. I’ll have to sneak off to get pedicures and never get to see them because of the previously aforementioned always wear shoes in the house rule.

From now on, I’m thinking of cool lies. I’m an FBI informant in the witness protection program. I swam the English Channel (is that far?). I have a house in the Alps that I usually reside in so you’ll probably never see me again after tonight. That blonde walking down Bolyston? Not me. Totally my cyborg twin from the witness protection program. Who else here has lied about stupid shit and it’s come back to bite you?

Anonymous asked: I love your blog. Best blog.

Let’s be honest, sometimes the person you’re sleeping with is only tolerable for one night, possibly one night every few weeks, but maybe only one night in your life. Ever.

He might be super hot, 6’4, and a body earned from teaching Jiujitsu, but he will also coax you away from the adorable, sweet, genuinely nice guy who is chatting you up at the bar so he can bluntly tell you that he wants to go home with you again. You will say sure, play it cool and wander back to genuinely nice guy, then not see the one you’re supposed to be leaving with until you actually spill out of the night club with your best friend. He will be magically waiting for you with his best friend, who your best friend has decided to start sleeping with again, and you will feel like a disturbing puzzle piece who is only there to finish the picture.

You’ll forget this because your feet hurt and the guy you’re leaving with will piggyback you to the car. He will be nice, but also bossy in a way that is only attractive at 3 in the morning on the still-busy city streets when he’s convincing your friends to end the night. He’ll be great in bed but also overly aware of that and you’ll quickly run out of ways to respond to, ‘tell me you like it,’ and feel like you’re supporting a child at his first school play. Luckily, you’ll feel emotionally unattached enough to hit him with a pillow when you calls you a bad feminist, and he’ll be surprisingly kind enough to swaddle you in blankets and have you sleep on his mile wide chest.

He’ll cuddle you but he will be like an octopus when he’s sleeping and you’ll need a full crew and tools to excavate yourself from his grasp when you need to pee. He will also keep you up until six in the morning, convince you that wearing his button down will be sexy (it won’t be, it will just be oversized and buttoned incorrectly), and then leave at 9 am to do errands like he is some sort of soccer mom. The upside is that at 9 am you get to sleep blissfully for another two hours, then stare at the ceiling and debate whether or not it was worth it.

Then you will get yourself coffee, food, promise to never see six am on the clock again on the weekend, and swear to only go home with him on nights that you are really bored and full of excess energy. Inevitably, next weekend, you will run into him and his best friend again and convince your drunk best friend that you should bring the two of them home.

If you walk a girl’s dog after spending the night with her, there’s a significantly higher chance of her calling you back for a repeat. There’s also a significantly higher chance of bjs with breakfast.

Anonymous asked: I love you, thank you. You've made my day. And I'm sorry you are/were sick!! :(

These are the kinds of things my girlfriends email me.

Step 1: Dress the part. Wear enough clothing to make your performance last. Though racy, lacy things are nice to look at, they are not necessary to perform a strip tease. Your man will enjoy watching you transform from your everyday self to a vixen, provided you aren’t wearing track pants and uggies..

Step 2: Feel the music. You can perform a strip tease without music, but it adds interest. Choose a song that makes you feel sexy, has a good tempo and sets the mood. (Suggestion: Pony by Ginuwine)

Step 3: Make good eye contact. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then seductively looking into your man’s eyes is a great way to connect with him during your strip tease.

Step 4: Use your hair. Men are totally into hair, so make yours a tool of seduction. If your hair is long, then toss it about. Let it fall across your face. If your hair is short, then run your fingers through it.

Step 5: Dance! Rock your hips. Roll your entire body in a fluid motion. Shake your breasts and butt. Bend over in front of your man and run your hands from your ankle to your thigh. Use your body an instrument during the strip tease.

Step 6: Undress slowly and deliberately. Make a big production every time you remove a piece of clothing.

Step 7: Have fun. Your strip tease should be as enjoyable to you as it is to your partner. Be comfortable in your own skin and confident in your sex appeal. The more you lose your inhibitions and let go the better you will be. Go you sexy thing!

Despite the fact that I have been very, very sick, restricting my extracurricular activities, I am in constant contact with my favorite sex bunny, A.
A is still sleeping with her famous guy. I finally met the famous boytoy, S, on halloween, which is how I ended up going home for the night with his very tall, very hot, very fit friend who was going as Thor, but that’s a story for another time. S is sweet and treats A well, meeting her various, sometimes ridiculous needs (like a homemade pizza at 3am or her demands that he sleep naked) whenever she wants him too. They also hold hands in public, go on dates, bicker, and sleep in the same bed 5 days out of the week. But he doesn’t want to date her. He has a ‘bad past’ (don’t we all?) and doesn’t want to get involved like that again.
All was well and good until A found S snooping through her phone while she was sleeping. Her exact words were, ‘if you don’t want to be my man, it doesn’t matter if I’m talking to other men.’
So who is right? Being her best friend, I mostly nod a lot and assure her that she’s right and he better get his shit together. She doesn’t even know if she wants a relationship, but how far can fuck buddies go before you hit a crossroads of all or nothing? And then what do you do?
Who said keeping things strictly to sex was the easy way? Watching her totter down this path has definitely made me consider keeping Thor as a one night stand, because who wants to be in this position? The only position I want to be in is fetal in bed with my tissues, communicating with the outside, sex-having world via phone so my germs can’t travel.
Next week’s trip to the club with Thor, A, and S after a Victoria’s Secret splurge will be a different story, if S and A make it that far.