Mr. “Oh Yeah”

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Making noise in the bedroom is usually gratifying for both parties. When you hear a moan escape from your partner’s lips, you know you’re doing something right.

Unfortunately, some people take it out of hand. I’ve categorized these people into:

(1) Screamers
(2) Chatter-boxes
(3) Excessive moaners

The screamer is someone who sounds like they’re being ripped apart when they orgasm. They’re not just loud when they’re close to climaxing but rather release a shrill like yell, the type you hear in horror movies when someone just got caught by the murderer.

I lived with a screamer once. I thought I was home alone until I heard someone yell at the top of their lungs. I lunged for a kitchen knife because I thought someone broke into my apartment and killed my roommate. NOPE, just an orgasm.

The chatter-box can take one of two forms. The first is the overly-concerned chatter-box. This is the person who will repeatedly ask “do you like that?”. It’s important to be courteous to your partner but if I’m enjoying myself, shut up. The second is the dirty-talk chatter box. Some people may enjoy dirty talk, but everything has its limits. I’m comfortable with a few comments here and there but if you keep talking you’re going to ruin the mood. Like sir, we’re banging you’re not reading me erotica.

Recently, I encountered my favourite moaner. I have labeled this type the “oh no’s”.

I bumped into a guy I knew from undergrad a few weeks ago. We started chatting about a project we worked on together in school and how I was kind of a bitch because I was super keen. After reminiscing for a while we swapped numbers and said we’d catch up over drinks later that week.

Going for drinks, I had no idea whether this was a date or just two friends catching up. My plan was to go grab a couple drinks then go to a friend’s birthday party and have an early night.

Things didn’t quite play out as planned.

We met up for drinks at a really low-key place. We ended up really hitting it off. After a few hours of hanging out a couple of his friends came to join us at the bar. I mentioned my friend’s birthday and they took it as an invitation to join. So we all made our way to the next bar and continued to drink. Four beers and a gin-and-tonic later, this guy and I are making out on the dance floor like we’re first years at a frat-party.

Everything was going well and I was having a lot of fun with him. When he asked me to come back to his place, it only seemed natural to accept this invitation.

When we started fooling around I immediately had a flash back to that scene in Trainwreck where Amy Schumer is having sex with that really jacked guy and is just so not into it. At that moment I empathised with Amy.

This guy used to play football so he was pretty muscular. Unfortunately, while having sex there were points where he’d put all his weight on me. Having 180lbs crushing you isn’t really “sexy”. Not ideal but at this point I’m thinking it could only get better from there, right?

Wrong.

As I’m finally kind of getting into to it, I hear the words “oh yeah” escape his lips.

I’m thinking, okay… cool… guess I’m doing something right. Then I heard it again… and again… and again. This man was repeating the words “oh yeah” the entire fucking time.

There was a massive human being on top of me, closed eyes, and just repeating the phrase “oh yeah” while I lay silent and stunned. Was this man for real? Once the shock washed away the next step was not letting laughter escape me.

Like I was a participant in these activities. I could say from first-hand experience that it was not “oh yeah” worthy, much closer to “mmmm kay”. You’re not a god bud, you are a mere mortal with an average dong.

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Bachelorette in Hell

 

Carrie – Move over Bachelor in Paradise, there’s a new show called Bachelorette in Hell and it is my love life. (That was cheesy, I apologize.)

Throughout the first few weeks of January, in order to get over my obsession with Mr. Heart Emoji, I distract myself with an app called Bumble where the girl has to talk to the guy first. Now, I’m pretty good with alluring men with one liners. In fact, I arrange three dates in one weekend.

Keeping em? That’s a different story (aka this blog post).

Continue reading “Bachelorette in Hell”

Mr. Heart Emoji – Part II

[Hey, if you haven’t read Part One, you might get confused. Click the link here!]

Carrie – In true blackout fashion, I remember saying “cheers” with my gal pal and Mr. Heart Emoji on our third round of tequila shots. Then not much more.

I am blackout at the pre but in cruel, cruel fashion, my brain can recall one interaction. Profusely flirting with Mr. Grilled Cheese, we end up as the only two people in the one of two rooms, probably because I was making everyone uncomfortable with my aggressive flirtation. (I was told later I was doing this IN FRONT OF Mr. Heart Emoji because I am a fuckgirl). I drunkenly confess to Mr. Grilled Cheese, “Well like you’re the last person I’ve slept with! Aren’t I the last person you’ve slept with?”

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I still cringe at how much of an embarrassment I like to make my life. Then he stutters “uhhhh” for approximately a minute. I save him by telling him I know I’m not, call him a manwhore, and top it off with a, “But I know you’re into me.” To my dismay, he answers, “A little bit.” Me: “A little bit?” “Yeah, a little bit.” I swear I probably would have mounted him right there if we weren’t in public cause I am such a horny little drunk.

I end up at a bar. How I got there, not too sure. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Grilled Cheese was not there. I remember snippets of sitting in a booth with my gal pals and Mr. Heart Emoji, and also snippets of drinking water out of the bathroom faucet, just to prove that 23 is still not a classy age. I think I had fun and my Visa bill proves that.

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Accurate depiction of me receiving my visa bill.

Now the next bit is where it gets interesting. There is a 24 hour diner near the bars in Ottawa. At that point, I was not aware of this. (Now that I am, that Visa bill will only continue to grow.)

Mr. Heart Emoji and I wind up there. Alone. I deduce he must have asked me to go at 2 AM because I’m confused why we’re in a booth alone and none of our friends join us. But I happily order a $16 burger (one that I later proceed not to eat a single bite of) when a classmate shows up. Now let’s call him Tree cause he is ridiculously tall and dresses like a lumberjack. Tree starts by asking if he’s interrupting me and Mr. Heart Emoji. We say no, then he sits beside me and Tree asks, “but you guys are gonna bang tonight, right?”

Continue reading “Mr. Heart Emoji – Part II”

Mindy Lahiri is a Lying Betch

You may be thinking: “Gasp! Oh no you di’int…How dare you desecrate the good name of Mindy Lahiri: OB-GYN, Sass Queen and spirit animal to millennial women everywhere!”

Well dear followers, I certainly di’id and someone had to say it. Now I know that Mindy is #goals, she’s smart, sassy, and hero to us all. (Clearly I’m girl crushing. Hard.)

While this is all true and I love The Mindy Project for so many reasons, our favourite Indian Gyno is also a Total. Lying. Betch. The woman who we look to as a guide through the treacherous waters of modern dating is really just reinforcing romantic tropes and unrealistic expectations for our relationships! What do I mean, you may ask? Well, let’s start with the ways in which Mindy meets men.

I mean, I have NEVER met a cute guy on…

…the subway

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…at my office

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…the office next to mine

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…on an airplane

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…or again on the FRIGGEN SUBWAY!!!

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Like, are there really this many single hotties hanging around waiting to be met in NYC? Because if so I have got to get out of the 6ix ASAP!

Maybe it’s just my current life stage that people aren’t looking to meet “The One”. There certainly are enough hot men walking around the financial district to satisfy one women, but how do you start talking to them as you pass by? I have eye-banged an embarrassingly large number of men as we’ve crossed paths, but starting an actual conversation in a natural and endearing way is extremely hard. I mean, COME ON, there is actually a dating app that lets you talk ONLINE to someone you’ve passed IN PERSON. Wtf is that about Happn?

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Back to the matter at hand.

If a young, fun, professional female in relatively good shape wants to meet a guy outside of the online dating world, how does she do it? Subtlety hand off a business card while walking past a hottie?  Or just say “Hi, you’re cute” and pray he doesn’t think you’re stalker? MINDY, LET ME KNOW…asking for a friend.

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I guess I don’t really hold it against her because despite seriously unrealistic ideations, I am still #TeamLahiri. Not only does she actually represent a positive body image in a world of human rakes, but she is probably one of the most relatable characters on television.

Exhibit A:

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and…

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or

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Lol been there…

Like Mindy, I am often a little too brash, a little too chaotic and a little too into wine.  And like our dramatic heroine I have not yet given up on ~love~. Sure, neither of us is a stranger to the one night stand and have had our fair share of setbacks (see any of my blog posts or seasons 1-5 of The Mindy Project)…But I honestly believe that one day all those mishaps will be fun anecdotes to share with the guy who’ll be foolish enough to love me (and Mindy) in spite of them.

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So maybe there isn’t a line of guys waiting to date me if I act entitled and obnoxious. So what? This is a TV show after all, and I’m not sooo delusional that I’d take all my life lessons from a woman who’d eat a bear claw off of the streets of NYC. The crux of the matter is Mindy is unapologetically herself and inspirational to all of us looking to find our inner Beyonce Pad Thai warrior.

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So cheers to Mindy, you’re a babe. I’ll let you sum up this post with my personal mantra for 2017. Can’t wait to see what shenaniganry we’ll both get up to this year…

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Recycled Love

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It’s Saturday night and I’ve decided to stay put in my sweats while watching Sex and the City reruns. The thing is, I’m pretty content with my night and lately I’ve found the need for solitude more and more appealing.

Recently, I found myself face to face with a thing of the past, more specificaly, a man from my past. Its your typical ex story, with the grand over the top breakup, the draining back and forths, and the endless supply of tears and drama. Unfortunately for me, this has been going on for just over a year, 14 months to be exact. Its that terrible cycle, you know, the familiar one. You cut the communication and decide it’s best to go cold turkey, and then its a text message on your birthday or a congratulations on graduating then sets this awful cycle in motion again. And every time you convince yourself it’s “different” and you’re both more mature this time around. And every time you actually believe the crap you say to justify your “connection”. But when is enough really enough? How far will we go to recycle old boyfriends? Should a relationship that ends really stay finalized, or should there be an open door for making something new out of something old?

I wish I had these answers. You can ask as many girlfriends as you choose to for these answers but you know you’ll wind up getting the same one from them all. The thing is, you can ask anyone whose opinion you value what to do, but I’ve found in my case it really doesn’t make any difference. All that matters is the way you feel and while that may seem obvious to most, how often do we really stay true to our own feelings and desires? Who is anyone else to tell you what to feel or who to talk to or who not to talk to for that matter? What I’m trying to say is that I think it’s alright not to know the right answers or which decision to make when it comes to matters of the heart. After all, isn’t the whole point of love to experience this epic highs and lows which make up our perception of the whole concept?

So how do you know when to call it quits for good or to give it another shot in the pursuit of love? Well you sure as hell shouldn’t ask me, I’m still finding that out.

Mr. Heart Emoji – Part I

Carrie – I’ve gotten to a point in my romantic experience, or perhaps my confidence level, where I can tell where I stand socially when I walk into a party of new people. I can tell the girls that want to be my friend and those that are wary cause I’m new meat and they’re not sure if I’m a threat or not. I can tell which guys are not interested and which guys want to take up some of my time to see if they are. The latter are the guys that stand by you at the party in a social group they know, just to put less space between you two. They’ll accidentally bump into you if you’re at a party when someone passes by or they’ll do a turn on the dance floor at an opportune beat to start dancing with you. Sometimes I’ll entertain the conversations by the food table while I munch on the free chips, mainly so I don’t look like that big of an antisocial fatty. However, I’m a firm believer in not leading a guy on that I have no interest in and I’m an expert at being straight-up with a guy to say no. Actually, I’m quite rude. But I’d rather be alone than feel lonelier trying to feel something for someone who it’s just not there with.

All this confidence is lost when it comes to a guy that I actually like.

Continue reading “Mr. Heart Emoji – Part I”

Mr. Grilled Cheese

Carrie – I am no longer a young professional living in the 6ix. As much as I loved shitting around in what my father termed my “sabbatical” year in a great city, I’ve decided to move to a sleepier town. I’ve immerse myself back into an academic environment filled with intelligent, like-minded individuals, and a ton of… general douchebags. Welcome to the world of law school.

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Since I began two months ago, I have projectile vomited on a bus in front of my friends, peed behind a school building on campus, fallen on my face on a boat cruise, woken up with a leg full of bruises, developed viral conjunctivitis (aka a case of the pink eye), gotten a cold twice, and just generally killed it at life it seems. Maybe it’s the fierce female squad I’ve made (our group chat is the “Pro Boners”) and their bad influence on me but realistically, it’s probably just me.

One Saturday, after 12 hours in the library, my friend and I took one break to stop for linner at around 3. With that having been my only meal of the day, my mind being exhausted, and my overall track record of making bad life choices, I am fucked by 8:30 p.m. when we head over to this bro’s house for a pre.

I show up and I am the most ‘lit-lit’ out of all of us. I was hoping one of my crushes would be there – he’s a year younger but we went to the same alma mater, he’s well-spoken, tall, with these cerulean eyes that are alarmingly entrancing. He had been messaging me a couple of weeks earlier, even sending me heart emojis that the Pro Boners collectively freaked out over, so I had this pent up sexual tension I was hoping to explore with Mr. Heart Emoji.

Naturally, I sleep with his best friend.

Continue reading “Mr. Grilled Cheese”

Mr. Slide Into My DMs

Carrie – For the first time in a really long time, when I stepped out of the shower that morning, an overwhelming sensation of gratitude washed over me. Perhaps I had been in a particularly good mood having finished my summer courses and finally enjoying what was left of my summer. Maybe it was the reminiscent effect of some weed I’d had the night before. Whatever the case, I was appreciative of the simple things: the sweet aroma of my shampoo, the soft towel grazing against freshly cleaned skin, and the sensation of my plush memory-foam bath mat under my foot as I gingerly step out of the shower.

Then in some weird sort of memory association, I remembered the history of said bath-mat. It wasn’t particularly sentimental, being a cheap Costco purchase two years ago. However, I recall enthusiastically snapping videos of the memory foam in action to Mr. Puppy Love who often experienced my obsession with all-things-fuzzy. The mat has also gotten me through darker moments: supporting me (and friends) as we hung around the toilet the morning after a night of binge drinking and comforting me when I pathetically cried after Mr. Mindfuckboy left my house that fateful winter night.

If you haven’t read up on my saga with Mr. Mindfuckboy, I’ll spare you your life and give you the Sparks notes here: this guy’s favourite movie is The Notebook. If that wasn’t indication enough (as I was too infatuated to see at the time), it is exactly the type of tortured romance he’s looking for in his life. He wanted me to be his Allie, the girl he couldn’t be with right away, but she was his soul mate and they’d eventually end up together when the time was ‘right’. Too bad the ‘right’ time in the movie was also the most-complicated scenario/worst-timing right when she was happy and about to get married. But that was the love he wanted. Mr. Mindfuckboy made everything fifteen times more complicated than it should have been. When I gave him the opportunity to be with me, he chose to cower, ignoring my phone calls but writing me a fucking poem about how I’m better off without him. Later that evening, I sent him a ‘break-up’ text telling him to never contact me again and delete me from his life.

So lo and behold my dismay when, I kid you not, TWELVE MONTHS LATER (that’s a whole year later ladies and gents) I get hit up with a follow on Instagram from Mr. Mindfuckboy, who I will now term Mr. (Slide Into My) DM.

Continue reading “Mr. Slide Into My DMs”

6’ixin like a Vixen

Miranda here. Remember me? I’ve been MIA for a solid 8 months on this blog and I apologize profusely for that. Long story short- I took a 6 month hiatus from dating in general to focus on myself. There aren’t many stories to share other than a random hookup or two from a night out. However, just over a month ago I finally decided it was time to get back into the game the only way I really know how: Tinder.

I went on a couple dates and met a guy who I really liked but that ended just as quickly as it came (in typical Miranda fashion). Though, that can be a story for another time as the focal point of this post is what happened after and how I dealt with it. I was feeling pretty shitty and was trying to figure out the best way to recover. Cue the following weekend where for once in my life I had no solid evening plan which, if you know me personally, is a rarity as a self-proclaimed planning queen. I contemplated forcing plans onto friends to keep myself busy but then I was hit with a brilliant yet very un-Miranda-like plan. I decided this weekend would be for myself, by myself.

I was going to go out on my own Saturday night.

Yep, you read that right. A 20-something year old single girl going out in the 6ix alone. Sounds like a recipe for disaster? Probably but thank god those fears didn’t stop me.

I downed 2.5 drinks before I left for the night just to get a subtle buzz going and for liquid courage purposes. I then headed over to a neighbourhood dive bar where I was sure to meet interesting people. I walked in and it was disappointingly empty but I took a deep breath and sat at the empty bar and ordered myself a drink. 10 minutes in I had struck up casual conversation with the bartender/owner and the seats on other side of me were filled by two older men that seemed to be regulars of the establishment. I mustered up the courage and started speaking to both of them (neither of which I was actually interested in). You see, the goal of the night wasn’t necessarily to meet a guy to hook up with, but to learn to socialize with others without the social reliance of friends. I had some interesting conversations and learned that as my drunkenness progressed, it was time to get out of the dive bar and into an environment where I could dance.

I walked down the street to my favourite resto-bar and headed straight to the bar. Here, the men were much more attentive to me and I quickly received a few offers to do shots with them, which I happily obliged. But the night was young and I still wanted to dance and not get tied down to any guy so early on in the night, so I said my goodbyes and headed to the dance floor. Dancing on your own is a peculiar thing. It’s exhilarating and freeing, and I highly recommend more people to do it outside of the confines of their bedroom. Later on, I met a few more people and remained talking and dancing with them for the rest of the night. It was awesome witnessing so many strangers coming together and engaging like they had been friends forever when in fact their only commonality was the love of booze and conversation.  I left the bar with free drinks in my stomach and two slices of pizza in my hands – which in my drunken eyes is always the sign of a good night.

I know it might seem a bit strange and erratic for any young woman to do something like this. Typically you hear of older lonely men hitting up bars on their own and being complete creeps. But it’s time to recognize that this is definitely an option for us. Trust me, I was a bit nervous going into it but I knew I had to do it for me. I was surprised how open people were to talking to me, and although some thought it was unusual it didn’t stop them from being friendly. It didn’t hurt that I was wearing a conversation inducing outfit either ;).

Key takeaway: if you’ve ever craved to go out alone and do your own thing go for it! Screw social norms and what’s expected of us – if you want to have fun and be the best version of you, there’s no one stopping you but yourself.  It was an amazing and enlightening experience for me and definitely not the last time I’ll do this. It pushed me to socialize on a whole other level and to be content just being on my own. My only advice is to walk into the night with an open mind, be careful and tell some friends where you’ll be, and drink in moderation.

Make the 6ix your oyster!

If you try this out, please share your experience with us in the comments below!

How to Stop Feeling Insecure on Dates

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By: Rachel Esco

We all wish we could strut into a dating situation with confidence soaring and heels stomping like a queen. Yet, for many ladies, creating this strong aura of confidence does not always come so easy. Some are just born with it, while others may find it harder to find their groove. This is completely normal. But unfortunately, if you struggle with confidence, it can sometimes suck the fire out of your romantic life. So, if you’re a self-believing woman who wants to own it in the dating world, here’s how to stop feeling insecure on dates.

Make him work for you

Make your date work for your approval, instead of desperately trying to win his. If you’re too eager to earn his thumbs-up, he’ll feel like you are inferior. Jumping through hoops will actually makes him lose interest because you’re doing all the chasing. After a few weeks, this power shift makes you feel insecure and less desirable.

So, the next time you find yourself on a date with a guy you like, try being more relaxed and invite him to work for your affections. Let him ask you more questions or flirt to seek your badge of approval.

Extinguish cockiness immediately!

Ever been on a date with guys who think they’re prince charming? These guys always find a way to mention their model ex or brag about how picky they are with looks, only to put themselves on a pedestal…ick! It’s vital for your confidence to avoid these clowns, but if you’re ever stuck on a date with one, you should learn to extinguish all that ego.

For example, he makes a cocky comment about how he rarely commits to a relationship status. Instead of sacrificing your security by wondering how you measure up to his standards, you should come back with a clever comeback about how you’re not concerned with tying him down in the foreseeable future. Ultimately, when nip his attitude right away, you avoid inflating his ego and bashing yours.

Believe you’re a prize

Knowing your value is the key to feeling confident on dates. If you genuinely believe in yourself, he’ll be more likely to want to invest his effort with you. It’s simply a matter of attracting vibes—people appear more desirable when they show self-belief; they exude an impressive aura that pulls in others.

To create this dynamic, you should date with the belief that you’re a prize who deserves to be pursued. Don’t be intimidated to openly show this attitude and make him see your self-love. Through this persona, you’re creating the reality that you’re someone who should be desired. Ultimately, whether he ends up chasing you or not, you should always date with confidence and grace.

Own it and don’t apologize

Never apologize for your dating goals. Many women worry about admitting that they want a relationship because they’re worried about scaring off the guy. Boo on him! This dating myth was likely concocted by jaded women with too many bad dates, who have spread these tales to prevent other women from falling into the same trap. Forget about the stories you’ve heard.

Hear these words: if a guy rejects you because you want commitment, he isn’t worth an ounce of your time, and the fault is his, not yours. Never apologize or feel bad for wanting the love, marriage and the whole nine yards. And never feel less secure about your dating goals just because a lousy jerk doesn’t share them. 

Master other dating apps

When in doubt, try your luck on another dating app. If your current ones are hoarded with perverted selfies and commitment-probes, maybe it’s time to find something better. There’s so many guys out there who aren’t jerks and won’t leave you feeling insecure. Considering closing your account if you’re using hookup apps like POF and Tinder and try Match or WhoWinkedMe, which are great for people searching for love, magic and all the good stuff. Ultimately, whatever you’re looking for, you should focus on a dating app that can give you the right results.

– Rachel Esco is a lifestyle blogger based in Toronto, known for her spicy articles on dating, beauty and nightlife.