by Laurelin

There are few things in life I love and hate more than the glow and vibrating of a cell phone when you’re expecting something big. I use the term “big” loosely; 9 times out of 10 I’ve just said something to a guy and I’m not sure what he’s going to say: minutes crawl by like hours and then (as though I had been holding my breath the whole time) there it is, the reassuring buzz and glow. When that buzz is never returned however, we enter the moments where you become acutely aware you had been holding your breath, and you make that conscious decision to slowly exhale or simply pass out.

I remember one relationship in particular; one where when I woke up one morning he was just… gone. He had left me, I knew it, but when something so drastic happens you don’t just process it and know to move on. Your world is rocked, your foundation shaken to the core and everything you trusted – especially yourself – is betrayed. A year went by and everyday seemed the same, but in reality, a year is a year, and I suppose I was healing.

I remember I was at a party and I wasn’t even thinking about him. I was in a tube top that kept falling down and I stepped outside to the front step where no one inside would see me so I could tug it up. Mid tug my cell phone buzzed, and in the darkness of that October night I saw his name glowing. I literally felt my heart stop and I put my hand out to steady myself against the front door. I answered the call, and what happened after that is now insignificant and trite, but I will never forget that feeling; the wind knocked out of me with just a small glow in the dark.

Fast forward to now and I’m realizing that once again, I have made a mistake and started to let someone in, when really they had no business in my life in the first place. This isn’t a time stopping event, probably not even worth writing about, but I know I am and I probably will again. His texts, now few and far between, still managed to ruin my dinner when I looked down over a plate of crab rangoon and saw his name glowing in the gloom. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry and I wanted to dunk my iPhone into the giant bowl of duck sauce.

Earlier that day it had been a text from a married ex. “Saw this and thought of you,” he had said, sending a photo of a CD that played our song. Another one had stopped by the bar the night before and hugged me. “I’m sorry, I’m an ass and I didn’t call you on your birthday,” he said. “It’s okay,” I mumbled. “I didn’t call you on yours either.” He tells me to call him sometime, and I say I will although I know I won’t because I deleted his phone number when I was finally able to delete him from my life. I don’t expect to hear from him anytime soon.

I realize that I’m drifting off into my egg drop soup and I snap back to reality, tucking my cell phone into my purse and deciding to not look at it for the next hour. Suddenly it buzzes and I glance down just one last time. My defeated face turns into a bright grin, my cheeks turning red and my friends start to giggle and ask to see pictures when I show them who it is. Those boys… they know just the right moment to pop up and say hi. I make a conscious decision to leave my phone out of the duck sauce after all.

Laurelin is running the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure for breast cancer research and awareness on Saturday, October 20th; every donation counts and is greatly appreciated.

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by Symbol

This is the longest period I’ve been single in my adult life. I’m dating, but as I alluded to in my last article, I’ve only met people who aren’t ready for any kind of serious relationship…and for the right now, that’s perfectly fine with me too.



I’m meeting more and more people who are only interested in open or poly-amorous relationships. Perhaps people are finally coming to realize that the monogamous relationship, which has been a cornerstone of our society for generations, just doesn’t work for everyone.



I think, in part, one of the reasons people seem to enjoy open relationships so much is because of how much fun getting to meet new people can be. To be clear, I’m not one of those people who have shunned monogamy. I’ve tried the poly thing, and that green-eyed monster called jealousy just shuts me down every time – but at least I know my limits. So it boils down to where and how you meet people, and what do you do once you’ve met someone? 



I seem to have always met women in one of two places – on campus or in bars. Sometimes those bars were on campus, which just compounds the fact that I’m used to meeting women in a certain setting. A fairly formulaic ritual seems to have formed there too. I’d hang out somewhere, occasionally make eye contact, smile, and see if I could get a conversation going. It’s the conservative Canadian way of doing things, apparently, but it’s been quite successful for most of my life.



I tend to use humor extensively when getting to know women. The self-deprecating kind, especially if I’ve been drinking, or I’m nervous – though it takes quite a lot to make me nervous in front of anyone. If the attraction doesn’t seem to be mutual, I’m never the kind who pushes – I always back off right away. I respect women (and myself) far too much to be that guy.



What I have noticed though is that I’ve rarely (if ever) been what I’d call the pursuer when it comes to romance. I seem to attract strong, outgoing women who know what they want. Honestly, this suits me just fine – in fact when it comes to character traits, the stronger the woman the more attracted I usually am. If a woman knows what she wants and comes after it, that’s entirely all right in my books.



That’s not to say that I’m unfamiliar with how to meet and speak to people, quite the opposite. I’m definitely what you’d call an extrovert, it’s just that meeting new people seems to come much more easily to some than the rest of us. And truth be told, I think my most recent break-up mostly left me lacking one important thing: Confidence.



I spent the second week of October this year visiting Austin, Texas. I was down there for a work-related conference, and had the chance to meet up with some fantastic people – including someone who has been a professional idol of mine for many years. 



I’d been speaking with him via email for a few weeks, putting together notes and chatting about what we’d be talking about at the conference, and when I finally got to meet him in person he just casually walked up and offered his hand.



“Hi, I’m Chris.”



I think I must have heard him say those exact words at least a hundred times throughout the week. The reasoning for this is simple: I’ve never met anyone who makes friends quite so easily in my life as Chris, and he proved that time and time again.



Without running the risk of getting all fanboy, let me just say this: I could easily see how many people would be threatened by Chris. He’s a good looking, articulate, smart, successful guy and he charms his way into people’s hearts and minds. That might threaten some people, as I said, but I found something I’d not been expecting to find – my missing confidence.



Chris introduced me to another fantastically awesome guy, Jim. They’re both from California, and it makes me wonder if people aren’t just different out there. These two certainly have something in common when it comes to making new friends, and it appears to have rubbed off on me ever so slightly. 



They just walk up to people, without fear, and put themselves out there. Hands are extended, introductions are made, and smiles are exchanged. It all sounds really simple, but the teenager inside me, the one who grew up watching John Hughes films, refuses to believe it can be that easy.



So I mostly just sat back, like one of those crew members on a reality TV show about off-shore fishing, watching the guys who know what they were doing reel people in. I don’t want to make it sound like there was some sort of commercial girl-farming operation going on, quite the opposite. All kinds of people joined our little outings and they were always interesting and welcome additions to the conversations we were having. (As an aside, if you’ve never played giant 2×4 Jenga, you really should!)



We stayed together, pretty much, from Monday afternoon until Thursday evening – looking out for each other, keeping tabs on each other, and having a good time. Wednesday evening was the real acid test though, and a true testament to the quality and caliber of the two men I’m now proud to call friends.



One of the people we’d met while down there was a woman whose work I’ve followed now for a few years. I’ve always thought she was whip-smart when it comes to her writing, and a keen mind is a huge attraction for me. It doesn’t hurt that this woman is also staggeringly good-looking; I had a little bit of a crush.



She’s very much an out there kind of gal; it’s easy to be bowled over by her presence, her personality and her looks. She’s loud, shiny, funny and opinionated. If you’re following along you can see where this is going.



We spent the night at a bar on 6th Street – it was some sort of official party with an open bar – but more importantly, the New York Yankees were battling the Baltimore Orioles in the play-off’s and this girl is definitely a Yankees fan. I’ve never actually met someone who was so very passionate about a sporting team, and considering I’ve lived in the three biggest hockey towns in Canada, that’s saying something.



I must have met thirty to forty people that night – I held their presence, shook hands, smiled, made some small talk, but my attention always drifted back to the exuberant Yankees fan that was rarely more than a few inches away from me for the better part of the entire evening. The vexing thing about her, the thing that perplexed me the most, was simply this…



I can’t read her.



I mean, I can. Obviously she was interested in talking to me and we talked about a great number of things. We took some cute Instagram photos, we flirted most of the night until we left that bar for a second destination, walking arm in arm, belting out songs from Les Mis together. 



At some point in there she mentioned she’d be up in Montreal in November – to which I gleefully responded:



“You’ll have to let me take you out for dinner!”



She agreed, I smiled. But I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was a “We’re having a fun time, you’re a lot of laughs, let’s hang out again” kind of acceptance, or a “Sure! And I’ll bring all these other people I know along too and it will be great!” kind of deal. I’m not struggling over an existential crisis here, but I do find it kind of funny that mixed signals could mean the difference between this turning out like a John Hughes film or a Ben Stiller one.



So how does all of this tie back into Chris and Jim? Well, it was pretty evident to me that Chris also found her pretty attractive – and I have no doubt that if he’d wanted to, he could have held her interest in conversation effortlessly. But I think it was pretty obvious I was interested in her. (I may be pretty easy to read in that regard, and I seem to recall telling him I had a tiny crush on her, once or twice, after a few drinks.) So the four of us just spent the night sitting by a window, chatting about things we could all discuss. Conversation flowed easily, and everyone had a good time.



I rarely make meaningful, adult relationships with men, and the ones I have made tend to be permanent. I’ve always had a much easier time making friends with women. Where I’m going with all of this boils down to how two remarkable people shared with me something that I’d never experienced before in an adult relationship – quick and genuine friendship, the likes of which I’ve only ever really seen other people have.



We all had a great time; I got to meet some fantastic people, people that – if things were different – I’d rather spend a lot more time with than what I’ll be able too. I’m also going to start saving my pennies up for a visit to California, whenever that becomes a possibility. I’d hate to go into Big Jim withdrawal. 



I met some remarkable people, who I’m looking forward to getting to know in whichever ways become available. If being friends on Facebook is all that the future holds, then I’m just as happy to take that as I would be with dinner, drinks, or a walk in the park.



I’m not holding my breath that I’ll be standing in the rain at some point holding a boom-box, playing Peter Gabriel.



Not that the idea doesn’t have a certain appeal to it.

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by SG’s Team Agony feat. Elea

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: How do I get the body as amazing as a Suicide Girl? I’ve been single for a while now and I’d like a change in myself. I’d like to look as beautiful as you. Your bodies are amazing. I just want to feel new I guess. I’m sure if I get the body I’d like, I’d feel confident and it would sure lead to a new person in my life. I just don’t know how to go about getting a new body. I’m not sure what to eat. Since I’m vegetarian it should be easy, but I’m not a healthy eating kinda girl! How do SGs maintain their bodies?

A: First, you should know that I am stuffing my face with pastry as I am writing this. Second, I bet very few girls on here really have the perfect body. I’m not even sure what it means. For me, the perfect body is mine, because I learned to live with it. My hips are too wide, my face is too long, and my calves are chubby. But the good thing is, this doesn’t matter on here. Everybody on here is different.
 It’s not about changing your body. It’s about changing how you feel about it.


However it’s definitely good to want to do something good for yourself and be healthy. Being vegetarian is a good way to do this. I became vegetarian myself only three months ago after I saw a documentary on how animals are treated and fed over here in the US. It’s all only about corn, which is bad for the animal and for you. Check out the Veggie and Vegan Group for recipe ideas or links to websites which support this lifestyle. (SG also has a Weight Loss group, if you need more diet tips and a little moral support.)


Contrary to what you think, I know a lot of girls on here who don’t go to the gym on a regular basis, including myself. I work in a very stressful environment that leaves me no time to sit down or rest. This is my workout. It’s all about finding a way of life that makes you feel good and works for you. “Makes you feel good” being very important. You obviously don’t feel that way so I want to help you change this.

What are routines in your daily life that you could change? I try to do some things that don’t seem significant but that keep me from becoming a slob. I park far, far away from everybody else when I go somewhere. Not only because people suck at parking and constantly ding my car, but also because a little walking never hurt anyone. I don’t buy snacks at the movie theater. If I eat when watching a movie, my body doesn’t seem to register it as much. When I cook, I turn on the swing music or blues channel on TV and dance around the kitchen. Every now and again I try to call up friends who have dogs and meet up to take a walk and play with them. There are very few days where I don’t move in some way, also because I found it helps with my depression. See if you can do similar things in your life that make you feel good and get you moving.

Last, but not least, your single status. I wish I could help you with this. My best advice is to try and think about it less and not stress about it. In a time where so many relationships start online, it’s still important to try and go out and meet more people in real life. See if there are any SG Events in your area, or by all means, try to set something up for your local group on your own. That’s a good way to meet some like-minded, cool people.
I hope this helped you.

Sincerely,

Elea

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Symbol

Life is short: Be respectful. Take healthy risks. You only have one life to live…

I seem to have lived life as a serial monogamist. I’m not sure how, or why, this has happened. Anyone who knew me in my sexually “formative” years, would probably have voted me most likely to be non-committal – a perpetual bachelor.



But the truth of it is, shortly after my explosive “experimental” phase (which is a very polite way of saying “when I stopped being a slut”) I got roped down, tamed and branded into a series of perpetually never-ending longterm relationships; Eight, actually. Eight longterm relationships, two engagements, though I never married. 



I think, for me at least, love strikes when least expected. I can’t actually remember ever thinking, “Okay, today I’m going to go out and find someone to fall in love with.” I mean, sure, we all go out looking, right? But it’s still a surprise when it actually starts to happen.



There’s really nothing sadder to me though, than when you fall in love alone. I have several friends who seem to perpetually carry torches for other people who will, let’s be honest, never return their affections – at least not at a comparable level of intensity.



Keeping yourself in check, at least to some degree, is definitely a skill set that they don’t teach you in high school. When I fall for someone, and that is rare, I fall hard and fast. I fall like someone who thought they were going sky-diving and accidentally packed their laundry instead of a parachute.



Intensity like that can be really scary for someone new and finding matched intensity is always preferable. But chemistry like that doesn’t work or happen for everyone. That’s why we develop phrases and codes that we use to communicate to one another – in part to spare each other’s feelings.



I had a friend recently tell me that she “can’t” say no to guys when they ask her out, she just feels too bad. No matter how disinterested she might be, she is willing to go out (at least for coffee) with anyone brave enough to ask. This kind of boggles me, because I’m far pickier about who I will entertain.



Even though I’ve been a serial monogamist, I’ve had an unreasonably high number of relationships in my lifetime. I think, however, this enables me to really quickly process what I am, and am not, interested in – with reasonably decent accuracy. It also means that when things aren’t right I don’t fuck around, I bail.



I find myself barreling towards the end of the year – rapidly living out the last days of summer, awaiting the oncoming winter and all that that entails. I’m finally in a place where I love my job, I have a reasonably enjoyable life, too many side projects to possibly handle at one time – and a hole.


I’m not a codependent person, far from it. I’ve taken care of my own needs for longer than I haven’t in life, but I think I tend to notice things like my “hole” far more readily when things are good, than when they are bad. When I’m happy, it’s natural for me to want to share that happiness and watch it spread.



When you’re single, it’s a very different dynamic – sharing happiness. You trickle it out, piece by piece, to those who you’re closest too, but never really share it the way you might with someone you truly love. I don’t mean to imply that you can’t love your friends – I just mean it’s a different type of love.



Near the end of the summer I “met someone.” Of course I wasn’t expecting too, I wasn’t prepared – I certainly wasn’t looking. There’s massive chemistry there for me, which is scary; scary because although I know she’s interested – it still feels a little like a one-sided romance.

She’s told me she’s not ready.
 Not ready to me means a variety of different things. They each reflect a different level of ego and/or confidence, I suppose. I won’t go into great detail, I’m sure you can project your own perspective on that phrase – but it leads to a three-way conflict of possible behaviurs, each with their own dangers.



The first choice, the most obvious, is patience. The danger in this option is reflected in the phrase “waiting in vain.” What exactly are you waiting for? Things to suddenly become right? Moons to align? A change in the stars? For them to wake up one morning and go, “Ooooooh. I get it now”?



Waiting may work for some, and if it does, great! But life experience tells me that, for most, the longer you wait the more danger rises – danger of falling into the “friend zone,” danger of either parties meeting someone else, danger of interest shifting and missing out on the chance for something at all.



The second choice, which I really don’t recommend, is to push. By this I mean simply acknowledging that the person isn’t ready, but forging ahead anyway as though they were. I’ve never seen this work. I’ve only ever seen it backfire, and I’ve seen it countless times. Be really careful, consider this a warning.



Sometimes it’s okay to push a little, especially if the intended party isn’t very forthright in communicating whether they’re honestly interested or just keeping you around until something more ideal comes along. But as soon as you get a clear idea of that, it’s best to change to a more respectful strategy.



The third choice, which most of you won’t like, is simply to bail. If you, like me, don’t have time to wait around for someone, or for them to come around to your way of thinking, then it probably wasn’t mean to be in the first place. The best love, the strongest, should burn brightly, from both sides.



Ask yourself one simple question: If the roles were reversed, how would you feel? If your answer is, honestly, “This wouldn’t bother me at all.” So be it. But if you get even remotely squiggly about being treated the way you’re acting towards someone else? It’s time to reconsider your behavior.



For many, a balanced approach of all three is usually what happens. Thought problems arise when people get tired of one and switch to two – or when they can’t seem to accept that maybe it’s time to switch to three.



But in the end, if you really are interested, then you really are going to be waiting. Waiting for trust to grow, waiting for whatever gives them pause to transform – maybe even vanish – waiting for them to realize that they do, in fact, like you as much as you like them. And that that’s okay.



Unless you know, for certain, what their reasons are (and realistically, I’m not sure how you could possibly know that since I’ve never met anyone who was that transparent and open with their feelings, especially to someone new, that they’re interested in) you’re waiting. Patiently or impatiently, is up to you.



So back to me. As I said, I met someone. Boom. Head-shot. Caught me completely unaware. It’s that “brand-spanking-new-want-to-see-them-all-the-time” sensation, butting up firmly against a “whoa-things-are-moving-too-quickly-wall.” At this point I’m just lucky that I’ve met her, and that she likes me.



So I’m waiting, for now. I’m taking the time to fully determine if what I’m feeling is infatuation, or something more. If that bursting sensation, the one I can barely contain sometimes, is something that will fade with time, or if it will consume me. I’m waiting, and hoping, that she’ll realize it’s worth the risk.

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Yulia

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: Last summer my wife and I split up simply because she felt lonely, which is my fault completely. We did end up getting back together, but my problem is sex, which was once great has died away. She never feels like having it any more. She doesn’t even want oral sex either. Sex is not the most important thing to me, but I feel it is definitely hurting the relationship. I have tried everything in and out of the book, but have come up empty and am having thoughts about exploring my options. Is there anything I can do to restart my sex life back with my wife? I miss the fun we had.

A: Kudos to you for recognizing that your past behavior may have caused or contributed to your current situation. It’s also very brave of you both to give your relationship a second chance. This shows you each recognized a strong connection and believe it’s worth saving.

Since you say you’re not having much sex anymore, I’m going to assume you had sex more regularly pre-breakup. Your wife may be concerned that renewing your sex life together will begin a slippery slope back down to the loneliness she felt before your time apart. I don’t know how long you two have been back together, but even if it’s been months, you may still be rebuilding trust. Because sex is the most intimate act, it can be easy to assume that just because you’re sleeping with someone you know them well and are spending quality time together. And you are, but it’s often not enough. I have friends I’ve never kissed that I know more deeply than people I have slept with. It’s likely that this is the level of connection that your wife wants, and she may be trying hard to build a strong foundation first before she will let loose.

You need to make your wife feel special and special to YOU, like you want her and not just sex, period. But don’t just treat her to the traditional stuff (flowers, and restaurants), try branching out and giving her quality time where you can enjoy each other’s company as well as each other’s bodies.

Most of all, be patient. Your wife wouldn’t have gotten back together with you if she didn’t hope to rekindle the old fire. She might just be trying a different method this time to see if the bond will be stronger.

Best of luck.

Yulia

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Sex Toy Expert Moxi Suicide

If you don’t know who Phil Varone is, you’re probably not as into hair metal as I am. Phil was/is the drummer for all kinds of bands like Saigon Kick, Skid Row and Vince Neil’s solo act – and he also happens to make sex toys.

Let me just say that I run in the same social circle as his girlfriend and before I even started my Powers Tools blog I heard about Phil coming out with his own line of erotic playthings and my curiosity was piqued, so I begged Phil’s girl to send me one of his toys.

Time passed, my Power Tools column got into gear, and I was becoming impatient to test out Phil’s wares. Eventually he put me in touch with manufacturer Cal Exotics, who were kind enough to ship almost the complete line of Phil Varone toys to me.

Opening a box of sex toys is like peeking in my stocking at Christmas; it’s so exciting that I often have no idea where to begin. I rummaged around and saw the “Rock Hard Nipple Clamps.” I have always wanted to try nipple clamps, but must admit that I never have. I like a lot of pressure on my nipples and figured that now was as good of a time as any to try them out.

I put Cheap Trick’s album In Color on and gingerly applied the clamps to my nipples. Woah, ow! I took them off and examined them. I noticed that they were adjustable and that I could set the pressure at different levels. I re-adjusted and applied them to my nipples once again. Ah, I had found the perfect “someone is biting on your nipples” pressure.

At this point, I was getting a little turned on and realized that the clamps should be used in conjunction with another toy, like one of my favorites, the Nubby Bullet. I reached for my bullet and admired the silvery chain of the clamps against my chest as I leaned over. The clamps have a continuous sexy sting and unlike your partner’s mouth, these nipple clamps don’t get tired. It was really nice to have a bit of extra naughty sensation during my regular playtime. And I have to say, as a first time nipple clamp user, I’m thoroughly impressed.

xx
Moxi

You can get a backstage pass to Phil Varone’s Sex, Toys, and Rock & Roll collection here.

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by Laurelin

I remember that I used to go to his bar after we had broken up. I had always gone there, why should I change anything just because my life as I knew it was over? Besides, I was fine. I would do my hair differently, a different style, parted to another side. And I’d wear a little black dress because I was on my way to a fancy event that once he would have also been invited to. I was okay, and he would see that.

I wasn’t okay, I was drunk. Lines blurred and people stared, and when I fell backwards off my barstool he came running to help me up. I screamed that I didn’t need his help anymore, that I was fine. Our friends shook their heads and saw me home, and I knew that I was far from fine. That night would replay a couple of times a week; a different dress, the same sad looks. And always I would cry when I thought no one was looking, even though everyone was. He must have been horrified.

Three years later, I watch him walk drunk into my bar regularly. He has his head held high, but I can always tell that something is wrong.

After the scene unfolded for the first time, I leant over to one of our friends and said, “This is what it was like all those years ago when I used to go into his bar, isn’t it?” Our friend nodded his head, and I felt impossibly sad.

I would rather have nights of my own endless heartbreak than know I’m causing someone else to ache like that. I don’t know what’s happening, and I am powerless to stop any of it. I have my own problems and having front row seats to his makes me feel guilty for being annoyed, but I am.

“I just miss you,” he says, reaching for me. I turn away, just out of his reach and I want to cry, but I don’t. Not until I was telling someone else the story later did my eyes fill with tears. “You’re happy now,” he had slurred and I wanted so badly to shake him and tell him that I was anything but happy; I was still always being let down, the only constant in my life was our sad city bar scene. But he didn’t need to know that. If he thought I was happy and that made him sad, it wasn’t my place to let him know that I really did want to be rescued – just not by him anymore.

It’s raining outside today, and I can’t bring myself to get out of bed. I don’t feel like drinking, I don’t feel like talking, texting, writing, eating. I feel sad, alone, heartbroken. I have to be at the bar in one hour. As shitty as I feel I know, I’ll get up, I’ll add some color to my pale cheeks and I’ll fake a smile, and while some people will know, others won’t. I’ll be okay. Maybe he’ll call and maybe he won’t, and no matter which “he” it is, I shouldn’t answer the phone, because nothing is right.

I have to be at the bar in one hour, and the mere thought of lifting my face off this pillow is enough to make me turn to ashes.

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