Get down there and lick me like a man

All women are different when it comes to what it takes to get them off, but the fact of the matter is that 75% of women are unable to orgasm through penetration alone.  Sadly, I am definitely part of that 75%.  But on the bright side, I am not part of the 10% of women who have never climaxed at all.  How horrifying would that be?

I’ve always enjoyed oral sex, but often found that it took too long to accomplish, and the guy would start to seem tired, and sometimes you just have to give up.  I found that I actually sort of preferred using a hand (sometimes his, but more often my own) that can apply more direct pressure.  But most of the time, I just wouldn’t come at all (although I’d still enjoy having sex).  However, all of that changed with Demetrios I.  The very first time we were intimate together, he went down on me, and it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.  I came.  Hard.  And so quickly and easily.  It was like Demetrios was a virtuoso of my finely tuned viola.  Absolutely electric and completely unlike the usual uphill–and, often, fruitless–struggle for the Big O I had come to expect from sex with a man.  Demetrios would make me come twice, thrice or more with his tongue every single time we were together, and it was nirvana.  I felt like a virgin, experiencing sex for the first time.  I hadn’t realized it could be this good, that my body was even capable of that level of arousal.

Of course, the fact that he was a god in bed made the breakup with Demetrios even more devastating.  In my fourteen years of having sex, I had never found a guy who was even remotely as good in bed as this one.  How would I ever find a replacement?  After two months of celibacy, I felt ready to try again, and the person I chose as my target, naturally, was Demetrios II.  I guess I was hoping that Greek heritage somehow bestowed men with supernatural sex skills.  Sadly, that turned out not to be the case.  Demetrios II barely tried to get me off at all, and didn’t even kiss me down there.  After his third orgasm (and my zeroeth), he wanted to know how the sex was, on a scale of 1-10.  Mentally, I gave it a 2 but kept silent.  “Did you orgasm all three times that we did it?” he asked.

Oh god, was he serious?  “No, I didn’t come at all,” I told him gently.  “I’m sort of tricky.  I need direct clitoral stimulation.”

“Oh.”  He seemed surprised.  “You mean I should use my hand more?”

“Yeah, that’s good,” I said.  “And I also like oral sex,” I hinted.

“Oh, I haven’t done that to you because, well, I’m an oncologist, and I know that the majority of throat cancers are caused by HPV caught through oral sex.”

What?  He was refusing to go down on me?  “But I’ve been vaccinated against HPV, and I’ve been tested and have never had an STD,” I told him.  He did not indicate whether that made a difference or not, and we were done having sex for the night anyway, so I went home wondering whether I should even give him another chance to bring me to orgasm.

I’ve never before encountered a man who refused to go down on me, and frankly, I’m a little pissed.  I’m implementing a new rule, right now, that I will never again sleep with a man before he licks me to orgasm.  If he’s unwilling or unable to complete this task, then I might as well kick him out of bed sooner rather than later.

Is there anything that a man can do to make sure he’s successfully pleasing a woman down south?  Well, one of the guys I’m dating (but haven’t slept with), Ethan the drummer recently told me about a very interesting book he had read.  I think he was sort of embarrassed to tell me, but actually I thought it was sexy as hell and has set my imagination on fire ever since he mentioned it.  The title of the book?  She Comes First: The Thinking Man’s Guide to Pleasuring a Woman.  “Bringing a woman to orgasm has never been a problem since I read that book,” he told me confidently.  Despite my initial impression that I wasn’t all that attracted to this guy, I’m now seriously rethinking that assumption and just may give him a chance to try out his oral skills.  If the secret to mind-blowing sex is truly contained within a book, then I am going to begin buying copies by the boxful and distributing them to men everywhere.  By my rough estimate, 90% of them have no idea what they’re doing and desperately need this information.

But in the meantime, what do I do with Demetrios II?  I rather liked him and was hoping we could at least work on the sex.  I suppose I have to respect his wariness of disease, so maybe I should bring some dental dams the next time I see him?  I’ve never even used a dental dam before.  Does it feel anywhere near the same?  I’m guessing it does not, but it’s worth a try.  Next time I’ll simply whip out a dental dam (or sheet of Saran Wrap) and announce that unless he licks me to orgasm, I’m leaving and never coming back.

January 18, 2012. Uncategorized. 2 comments.

Good men come in twos, apparently

by Daphne Reese

Throughout my dating career, I have noticed a peculiar trend that, in recent months, has reached the point of absurdity.  Whenever I am dating a guy—let’s say, a doctor named Demetrios—I will inevitably meet and end up dating another guy with the same name or occupation.  Keep in mind, I am not deliberately seeking this out.  It just happens.  Sometimes I think there really might be a god, and if so, she has a wicked sense of humor.

To give you an idea of what I’m talking about, let’s review:

Two Brits

A couple summers ago, I was dating two British guys at the same time.  (How I love that English accent!) They were both living in Boston, and I have no idea if they knew each other.  The main problem was that my roommates could not tell them apart and would inevitably call them by the wrong name when one of them came by to pick me up for a date.

Two Nathans

Last spring, I was dating two Nathans at the same time.  As you can imagine, this led to massive confusion amongst my friends.  To keep them straight, I began calling one Nate and the other Nathan.

Two Greek doctors

Now, this is where things get really crazy.  There aren’t that many Greeks in Boston, but it seems that once you meet one, you have infiltrated their secret society and you suddenly start meeting them everywhere.  As things were fizzling out with Demetrios the Greek doctor last month, out of the blue I met another Greek doctor named Demetrios.  You can’t make this stuff up.  There’s actually a pretty funny email I wrote to my friends while I was mourning the Demetrios breakup, something like “I know I’ll find another guy, but what are the chances he’ll be a tall, dark, and handsome Greek doctor?”  As it turns out, the chances were pretty good.  I like to think of it as a message from the universe that there truly are millions of great guys out there, and if you find one guy you like, you can rest assured there are more out there just like him.  Demetrios I is now out of the picture, but Demetrios II and I had our fourth date last week, and things seem to be going well.  I haven’t yet told Demetrios II about his predecessor, but he keeps asking me awkward questions like “So, I’m the first Greek you’ve dated?”  Umm… not exactly.

Two Drummers

Two other guys I’m currently dating also share a profession.  By day, they are tech guys working for major companies.  And by night, they are drummers in bands (one is a wedding band, the other is a punk band).  I’ve always had a major fondness for musicians (usually guitar players), but I’ve never dated a drummer before.  Naturally, once I started dating one, along comes the second one.

I’m eager to see what fate has in store for me next.  A duo of Swedish underwear models, perhaps?

January 12, 2012. Uncategorized. 1 comment.

Vonage: The dating girl’s secret weapon

By Daphne Reese

Texting and dating just don’t mix.  More often than not, the short and ambiguous  nature of texts leads to massive misunderstandings (like the debacle with Demetrios I recently blogged about).

However, men today simply love texting.  Probably because it’s incredibly lazy.  Long gone are the days when a man would methodically plan out what to say, nervously dial your number, and anxiously wait for your answer to “Would you like to go to dinner this weekend?”  Instead, today he will just jot a quick text (“Dinner tmrw?”) and hit send.  If you are anything like my friends, you probably can’t even remember the last time a man called you.  It’s all text, all the time, and it’s incredibly frustrating for us girls.

I recently read a book called Text. Love. Power. The Ultimate Girls Relationship Guide for Texting and Dating in the New Millennium, which offered a militant solution to the texting-and-dating problem.  Don’t text with men at all.  The book suggested you should go so far as to call your carrier and actually disable texting on your phone so no one can text you.  Or, if that’s not feasible (obviously, it’s not!), then you should buy a second cell phone—a complete clunker phone, without text capabilities, that you use solely for dating.  That way, when you’re out with a guy, you can whip out your antiquated Zack Morris phone and he will instantly understand why you can’t text with him.

Luckily, I have a realistic third option to offer you: start giving guys your landline number.  A landline, you say?  Who the hell still has a landline?  Well, we had to install one at our apartment due to lack of cell reception, but it has proved to be a potent secret weapon when it comes to dating.  Actually, it’s not a landline at all, but a Vonage VOIP line that acts like a real phone but only costs $25.99/month for unlimited calls.  I’m telling you, this is a small investment to reclaim your dating life.

Here’s how it works.  A guy recently asked me for my number at a bar, and as an experiment, I gave him the landline number instead of my cellphone.  I didn’t mention it was a landline, just gave him the digits and split.  Then I totally forgot about it.  One evening a few days later, the landline rang.

Daphne: “Hello?”

Guy from bar: “Hi, is this Daphne?  This is Greg from Red Lantern last week.”

Daphne: “Hi, Greg.”

Greg (incredulously): “Umm, is this a landline?”

Daphne: “Why, yes it is.  Why do you ask?”

Greg: “Well, I tried texting you a couple times this week, but it bounced back with an error message saying it was a landline.”

Eureka!  I had found the secret to make a man call you.  My roommate and I immediately began making use of this new discovery.

The shock that men express when they realize you gave them a landline number is priceless.  Or even better, if you have a roommate like I do, you can answer each other’s calls.  Imagine a guy calling Daphne, but Parker picks up instead.

Guy: “Hi, is this Daphne?”

Parker: “Just a minute, let me go get her.  Daphne!  Daphne, you have a telephone call!”

A man probably hasn’t encountered this phone situation since 1995, and it will definitely make an impression on him.  Obviously, he knows you have a cell phone, but you chose not to give it to him.  He has to earn the privilege of being able to contact you 24/7 on your cell.

The irony of the whole thing is, because Vonage is VOIP (and not a real landline), I can do anything I want with the number, including automatically forwarding the calls to my cell phone so I can answer calls even when I’m not at home.  And if a guy leaves me a voice message, Vonage instantly types it up and emails it to my iPhone.  Just like texting.  😉

January 6, 2012. Uncategorized. 4 comments.

Lost in Translation

by Daphne Reese

Text messages are great for many things, but dating is not one of them.  For one thing, you lack seeing all the physical signals that you would normally be able to interpret during a face-to-face conversation.  Many miscommunications can occur as a result.  It’s really remarkable, when you think about it, that today entire relationships will sprout, bloom, and die via text message.

The ambiguity of text messaging leaves a lot open to interpretation.  This problem is compounded by the habit of people who are dating to tend to use vague language in order to spare someone’s feelings or to avoid coming on too strong.  Hence, you can end up having a completely baffling text exchange, like the one that follows.

Because I’ve been on a blogging hiatus for months, I haven’t yet written about this guy, Demetrios the Greek doctor.  The brief description is that he is amazingly brilliant and the sexiest man I’ve ever met in my life.  I’m crazy about him, so I’ve been running “The Rules” hard on him from the beginning and playing hard to get.  For a couple months, he chased me and asked me out on weekly dates, where we always had a great time, but for some reason I could never tell just how much he really liked me.  Communication between dates was non-existent.  Then a couple of overlapping vacations caused us to go six weeks without seeing each other.

After our last date (three weeks ago), Demetrios just stopped contacting me.  (Well, sort of.  He did “like” two photos of me on Facebook.)  But no calls, no texts.  I didn’t contact him either, as I was following The Rules.  Naturally, I assumed the worst and believed he simply didn’t want to date me anymore.  But I didn’t want him to just disappear without a word after dating me for three months.  (I hate when guys do that.  At least give us the courtesy of a cliche “let’s just be friends” text so we can accept it and move on, rather than leaving us with radio silence we just have to wait through and eventually come to the sad realization that you’re never going to call.)

In an effort to bring things to a head, I decided to break The Rules and do something I’d never done before.  I texted Demetrios to ask him to go out with me this weekend.  His response was neither yes nor no, but rather, the most infuriating thing he could possibly have written.

Demetrios: Nice idea. When do u think? I might know on friday if I can join

Initially, I took this to mean “Perhaps I will deign to hang out with you if my first-choice plans fall through.”  What a jerk!  I was about to text back something mean, when it occurred to me that his text was actually somewhat ambiguous, and he hadn’t answered the question that I really wanted to ask him.  So I texted back:

Daphne: I don’t know what that is supposed to mean, so I’ll rephrase the question.  Do you want to see me again?  Yes or no

A direct, yes or no question.  Finally I would have my answer.

Demetrios: That’s definitely a different question… yes I do, however I have started studying for exams. This means I have limited time… furthermore I think we want different things

Ah!  The dreaded “we want different things” excuse.  Cliched breakup line #24.  In past experience, I have found that this lame line is often accompanied by the ever-popular “I’m not ready for a relationship” excuse.  Thinking that this was Demetrios’s tactic, I responded defensively:

Daphne: What is it that you think I want?  I don’t want a serious relationship right now.  And I know you’re busy and

Mid-sentence, I accidentally hit send.  Crap.

Before I could finish typing the rest of my message, Demetrios texted back.

Demetrios: But I want a serious relationship…

Wow.  This stopped me cold, as it was the exact opposite of what I expected him to say.

Daphne: What do you mean?

Demetrios: I’m the relationship type of guy. I don’t like to just have fun. I like the whole “how was ur day” thing… you don’t want this

Demetrios: I didn’t want to have this discussion via text. Could we meet during the weekend for coffee?

My head was spinning.  What did he mean?  Baffled, I agreed to meet him for coffee this weekend and immediately enlisted my girlfriends for help analyzing his texts for clues as to his intentions.

As far as we can determine, there are two possible (and completely opposite!) meanings that could be hiding behind his cryptic text “But I want a serious relationship.”

1. Is he asking me to be his girlfriend?  If so, this is an odd way of going about it.


2. Is he trying to dump me?  In which case, he is using “I want a serious relationship” as an excuse.  As far as I know, he would be the first male in the history of the species to use this as a break-up line.  Granted, I perhaps set him up for it by declaring “I don’t want a serious relationship right now,” and Demetrios simply seized onto this as an opposition stance.

Neither option makes much sense, really.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what he says over coffee this weekend.


Update (12/27/11):

So, what happened?  It’s a long story, but here’s the quick version.  Demetrios and I continued to date for two months following his “But I want a serious relationship” text.  And it seemed like things were starting to get serious.  Until he abruptly dumped me over dinner ON MY BIRTHDAY.  (Yeah, he was a real jerk).  Anyway, I think the larger lesson here is: don’t pay attention to what a guy says, but rather how he acts.  If a guy really likes you, you’ll know it.  Love really shouldn’t be so difficult.

October 20, 2011. Uncategorized. 3 comments.

No, I would not like to see a photo of your dick

by Daphne Reese

Men are visual creatures.  I get that.  But why do so many of them hold on to the mistaken notion that women want to see pictures of their dicks?

You hear about it all the time on the news. Brett Favre, Pete Wentz, and other celebrities have all been embarrassed by public scandals that erupted after they sexted photos of their junk, uninvited, to incredulous women who undoubtedly laughed hysterically while showing the photos to their girlfriends, just before calling up the tabloids to start a bidding war.

I think this is a classic example of the male fallacy that women think like men do when it comes to sex.  Most guys would probably be stoked (or stroked!) if a girl sent them some nude photos of herself.  Therefore, they reason, she must be equally psyched to receive a photo of his dong!  (Wrong!)

Don’t get us wrong, boys, we girls do love dick. But let’s face it, the organ is pretty ugly. Particularly if you were not fortunate enough to be circumcised as a baby. Seeing a picture of your cock does not turn us on so much as it causes us to double over in fits of laughter while showing it to as many girlfriends as possible.

Recently, at a tech conference that was admittedly full of geeky guys lacking any social skills, a guy who had been flirting with me for maybe 10 minutes suddenly started bragging about his large penis.  “Would you like to see a photo?” he asked.  Hardly believing him, I said sure.  He immediately whipped out a cell phone and showed me a self-taken photo of his scary-big, horribly veiny, uncircumcised member, hard in his hand.  He was obviously very proud.  “Do you like it?” he asked.  (That is, indeed, the real photo posted here, although I have blurred it out to make it somewhat less disturbing).

Naturally, once I told the girls this story, they insisted on seeing the photo for themselves.  So, I sent the guy a flirty email: “Hey, could I see that sexy photo of your dick again?”  He was more than happy to oblige.  I realize I probably did him, as well as any future women he meets, a great disservice by pretending to actually like the photo, but what else could I say?  “Hey, will you send me that photo of your dick so my friends and I can laugh at it and I can post it on my dating blog?”  Which is exactly what happened.

May 25, 2011. Tags: , . Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Shopping for condoms

by Daphne Reese

I don’t know who invented these new Trojan “Extended Pleasure” condoms, but it definitely wasn’t a woman.  “Climax Control Lubricant?” “Male Genital Desensitizer?” It must have been conceived by a man with some sick, masochistic fantasy of having his dick go numb during sex.

If you’ve recently gone prophyllactics shopping, the first thing you’ll notice is the incredible variety of condoms on sale today.  When did they invent all these new kinds? Ribbed, ultra ribbed, flavors and colors, Fire & Ice, Ecstacy, latex, non-latex.  And then there are the Magnums, which definitely there are large men who need them, but let’s be honest, I’ll bet every man in America has bought these at least once just to see how they fit, when most of them had no business even trying.

So, you’re in the condom aisle, overwhelmed by the choices that confront you.  In my experience as a woman, all condoms are pretty much the same, as far as I can tell.  I always just go for the plain ol’ Lubricated Trojans.  But, I’m willing to concede that the condom choice probably makes a lot more difference to the guy, so I tend to leave that up to them.  Chopstick, for example, is partial to Durex Elites. Aaron tends to switch up his selection and the other night, unfortunately for us, he absentmindedly picked up a box of the sexual torture device known as Extended Pleasure condoms.  Upon reading the box, I was instantly dismayed.  Designed to prevent premature ejaculation?

I know being too quick a draw is a real problem for a few guys, and I’ve seen it firsthand a time or two, such as when one guy in high school actually came while rolling on the condom.  (I laughed but felt bad, since he was so embarrassed).  But in general, I don’t think this is a real problem for most people.  I have almost never been annoyed that a guy came too fast.  More often, it’s like “Okay, dude, time to wrap it up.”

I think this is a big point of miscommunication between men and women.  We want longer foreplay, and a long-enough-but-not-too-long penetration session (like 5-20 minutes-ish).  Men, apparently, think we want them to bang away like jackhammers for 45 minutes to an hour and are buying numbing-agent condoms to help themselves do so. (Where’s the numbing agent for all the sore vaginas out there?)

Since coming too soon has never been a problem for Aaron, I was wary of trying out the new condoms.  How long could this possibly go on?  As it turned out, however, the experience was much worse for Aaron.  At first, he said the condom felt like a normal condom, but after a few minutes, the numbing agent started to kick in, and he pulled out in horror and ripped off the condom. “It feels like my penis fell asleep,” he explained. “It scared me.” We threw the rest of the box away.

So, readers be warned! Stay away from the numbing condoms. And guys, for the sake of women everywhere, will you please stop being so concerned about winning the marathon sex Olympics?

May 6, 2011. Tags: , , , , . Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

Pretend Period

by Daphne Reese

For any guys reading this blog, I’m about to blow the lid off a well-kept female secret—the pretend period.  It’s always the perfect excuse to easily avoid any unwanted intimate situations.  Just tell the guy you’re having your period, and voila, he instantly backs off.  It’s not like he’s going to check.

In the rare case where you run into an eager beaver who tells you he doesn’t care about the blood, you can always feign disgust.  “Ew, really?” and make it clear to him that it ain’t happening tonight.  Or probably ever, to be honest.  Because once you reach the point where you’re so desperate to avoid the guy that you’re lying about your menstrual cycle, you know things are pretty much over.

The big limitation with the period excuse is timing: it’s a get-out-of-jail-free card that is valid only for a 5-day stretch once per month.  The guy will rightfully become suspicious if you feign your flow one week, only to have your period again (perhaps for real this time) the following week.  However, Parker has identified the perfect work-around to this limitation—birth control pills.  Simply tell the guy you messed up your pills, and now your cycle is all messed up.  Genius.

I don’t lie about my period often, as it’s usually easier just to tell the guy you’re not interested.  But sometimes that ace card comes in handy.  Earlier this month, I went on another date with the nice-but-lacks-fireworks guy called Sam Adams.  At the end of the date, his hands started to get overly friendly, and I pushed them away.  He was persistent.  “It’s a bad time of the month,” I lied.

Apparently Sam had been expecting this.  “I was wondering when you would get your period.  I figured it would be last week or this week,” he said.  Umm, really??   He’s tracking my menstrual cycle now?  “How long does it usually last?” Sam asked.

“Uh, like five days.”  I couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.

Sam did the math.  “Great, so if we go out on Friday next week, it will be over.”  Um, we’ll see about that, Sam.

Apparently women’s periods are a great point of concern among men.  There is even a popular iPhone app called PMSBuddy, designed to give men forewarning when their girlfriend’s period—and dreaded PMS symptoms—are due.  Conveniently the app also has the ability to locate the nearest flower shop.

Girls – have you ever had a pretend period?

Guys – do you try to track your girlfriend’s periods?  Would you actually use an iPhone app like PMSBuddy?

March 22, 2011. Tags: , , . Uncategorized. 2 comments.

Ex Sex

By Parker Lee

Though not an original topic (in fact, apparently there are even rules, most of which I agree with entirely), the act of ex sex is still really something of a mystery.

So you’ve determined that he’s not the one – the two of you simply are not meant to be.  You split up your assets: you take your toothbrush home and give him and back that undershirt that you know you didn’t really look as cute in as he said you did anyway.  Those things are always so boxy.

But then, in the most contradictory of moves, you  soon solicit a booty call… and that inevitably becomes a series of booty calls.  I’ve determined that the amount of time you’re with a guy is directly correlated to the amount of time that you continue to have ex sex after the break up. Generally, that positive correlation looks something like this:

In real life, for me, it actually looks more like this:

So what is it – that ‘je ne sais quoi’ – that makes ex sex so appealing?  Most of the reasons are fairly salient: he’s familiar, you’re comfortable with him, he knows what you like, etc.… But then there are also those that might not be so obvious:

Six-Pack Check: He put on 12 pounds while you were together – I always like to give it a month or so and see whether he’s gotten his abs back.  I still don’t know whether I should be insulted if he has.

Riding Bareback:  Condoms: a necessary evil – but not if you’ve already done it without them 800 times.

Shaving Cream Conservation:  At the end of the day, you want him to remember you in your ideal state, but he’s seen what emerges with a full moon before, so what’s the harm?

And most importantly…

Avoiding List Additions:  Recently, Daphne and I hosted a List Party (inspired by that Duke chick) – we had some girls over and we all viewed one another’s PowerPoint presentations of the men we’ve slept with.

Great party theme – but also a rude reminder that if this trajectory continues exponentially, you might end up competing in the numbers game with, like, Ron Jeremy.  Who wants to be on the same playing field with that hideous werewolf of a being?  I don’t even want to practice there.

What are your reasons for going back for ex sex?

March 4, 2011. Uncategorized. Leave a comment.

“The Spark”: Do you have to feel it right away?

by Daphne Reese

Sometimes when you first meet someone, you feel an instant connection and a strong physical response to their very presence.  I absolutely believe in Love at First Sight, or more accurately, Lust at First Sight.  It’s only happened to me twice, but both times I realized almost instantly, within hours of meeting the guy, that he would be someone special in my life.  Truly falling in love with someone requires a lot more time to get to know someone, of course, as well as compatibility and precise timing.  However, that initial “spark” of the first meeting is very real, even if it fades over time.  But how important is it to feel the spark?  And if you don’t feel it right away, can it grow over time?

As a romantic at heart, I’m in love with the idea of The Spark.  There have been some men in my past that I initially overlooked and, over time, grew to be very fond of, but when I think of the Great Loves of my life, I almost invariably felt the spark immediately.  In one tragic case during my early twenties, I spent four years with a wonderful man, just waiting for the spark to come, but it never did.  However, despite my personal experiences, I don’t want to be too quick to dismiss any man just because of something as intangible as lack of spark.  In fact, research shows that a lot of women end up marrying men that they initially didn’t like very much, so don’t be afraid to give that guy a second chance.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this topic  because I recently started dating a sweet, romantic guy whom Teddy has dubbed “Sam Adams,” due to his uncanny resemblance to the man on the beer bottles and his penchant for wearing vests.   Unfortunately for Sam, I have yet to feel the spark.  But I have a great time hanging out with him, so I’ve been trying to give him a chance.  So far, we’ve been on five dates, and he is laying on the charm—wooing me with flowers, chocolates, fancy dinners, and even poetry—but sadly I’m starting to admit to myself that I’m just never going to fall in love with him, as much as I feel like I should.

So, what’s a girl to do?  Should I keep dating him, enjoy the chocolates and roses, and give him a little more time to grow on me?  Or is it hopeless and I should just let him go before he gets hurt?  Should I sleep with him (which I haven’t done yet), to see if that changes things?  Vote in the poll below!  Luckily, next week’s Coast-to-Coast Ex-Boyfriend Tour will get me out of town for a while and off the hook from making a decision right away, but I sense my grace period may be running out soon.

March 1, 2011. Tags: , , . Uncategorized. 5 comments.

Kindle-ing a New Flame

by Parker Lee

As part of my new life as Travelling Tammy (thanks, Teddy), I recently purchased a Kindle.  I went all out: 3G, a flowery skin and pink case to really accessorize that bitch….  Hot.  Not that I plan to use the Kindle to pick up guys…

But I’ve always had this fantasy that one day I’ll get on a plane and squeeze into the middle seat next to my Romeo (and it wouldn’t hurt if he looked like Leonardo DiCaprio, but more like the one from The Beach than Romeo & Juliet) in the aisle seat next to me.  He and I would spend the first couple hours of the flight regaling one another with tales of our travels and completely in-synch lives – I would insist that he not get up to let me out of the row to use the lavatory – “I’ll just climb over.”  By the return from my third bathroom trip (it will be at least a four-hour flight), we’d be back in our seats basking in the glow of our induction into the coveted Mile High Club.

So an easy conversation-starter like the Kindle can’t hurt, right?  WRONG!

WHAT is going on with the Kindle screensavers?  Are you kidding me, Kindle?  When I think of the Kindle as a conversation-starter, I think “Oh, I’ve been thinking about getting one of those, how do you like it?” not “What is that bizarre Herculean cowboy scene?” or “Are those drowning children?”

My first experience with the screensaver was this intricate black and white drawing of little birdies on a little branch came up.  Aw, lovely, well done Kindle.  That’s how they get you.  Then the truth came out.  Don’t get me wrong, so far it seems that half of the size of the Kindle is actually made up of the memory drive for these images – there seem to be a plethora on “shuffle” – but there REALLY are awkward Herculean drawings and apparently drawings of drowning children (I haven’t seen that one myself yet, but from what I have seen, I think I should probably brace myself).

I’ve Googled how to change it – it’s not exactly easy, you have to step into like the Kindle VBA code, it requires you to load your own images instead, and it compromises your Kindle license or something that sounds important like that.

So instead of the irresistibly sexy stranger in the aisle seat next to me beckoning me to act as Kindle maven, he won’t even talk to me because, since he doesn’t yet own a Kindle and doesn’t yet know about these horrifyingly awkward screensaver images, he’ll wonder what’s wrong with me, believing that I actually like that creepy-intense drawing of Emily Dickinson on the front of it.  And his assumption wouldn’t be anywhere near out of line, because every other electronic device of this nature allows and encourages you (by making it so easy) to pick something that you want to look at while your device is sleeping, instead of this:

Why do you think you’re better than everyone, Kindle?

February 28, 2011. Uncategorized. 1 comment.

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