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 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 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.

[..]

by Steven Whitney

When Mitt Romney recently declared that 47% of us are “dependent on government,” he made it sound like a bad quality – starkly un-American, as if we were all addicts smoking the administration’s crack pipe.

Yet dependency in and of itself is neither a good nor bad attribute – it’s just a part of who humans are on the most basic biological and anthropological scales. We are a social species – it’s in our DNA – and everything we do that has any meaning is dependent on social interaction, whether it’s buying and selling to make a living or profiting emotionally by just hanging with friends and loved ones.

No one exists in a vacuum. We live in families and tribes and cultures, and sub-tribes and border cultures – whether it’s surf bums or car enthusiasts or school parents or Wall Street self-proclaimed “Masters of the World” – we are all dependent on some grouping that sustains us emotionally, psychologically, and often financially. We seek out others who share our interests, passions and values to give us a sense of belonging, precisely so we don’t feel isolated and alone as we float down the river of life on something akin to Sartre’s ice floe.

This is the most basic concept of what it means to live and work in a community. And, with the freedoms America offers, it’s normally a community of our own choosing – be it a church, a bowling league, a book club or rotisserie league, or even a political party.

As a devoted acolyte of the self-interest rationalization (objectivism) of Ayn Rand, Paul Ryan can be excused for not knowing this simple human truth. But Romney should. Whatever their faults, Mormons famously take care of their own – perhaps to the exclusion of those outside the Latter-Day Saints circle, but Mormons comprise a real and ongoing community.

But just maybe the extremely insular nature of the church has impacted Romney more than its communal practices. As Romney has shown almost every day of the campaign, he is uncomfortable with and wary of outsiders, or “the other,” a trait commonly found in minority sects that robs them of any real sense of either a national or global community.

Mormons make up just 2% of our population – yet as a group they are so tight-knit that the other 98% have become “those people.” Ann Romney is afraid of giving “those people” tax returns they might use as ammunition, and Mitt said his job is not to worry about “those people.” So one has to wonder if it’s a lack of empathy or social skills on their part or an extreme level of xenophobia – but none of those can or will play well on a world stage that foreigners and all sorts of “those people” inhabit.

As time (and the song) has shown – people need people. The well-being of every person on earth – and every nation – begins and ends with dependency on our social and professional interaction with other people, for companionship, for work, for sex, and for love. We cannot be free or happy if we are imprisoned in our own solitude.

Indeed, study after study shows that prisoners in solitary confinement inevitably suffer from schizophrenia and other serious mental disorders. Free in society, those who isolate themselves are prone to paranoia, obsession, depression, agoraphobia, pre-senile dementia, and early onset Alzheimer’s.

Many experts in the mental health field define true madness as the loss of self. If they’re right, and madness ensues from extreme isolation, then it follows that we lose at least a part of ourselves – of who we are – when we forego social interaction, when we lose our connection to other people. The “other,” then, becomes not only necessary for our optimal survival but must also be an integral part of each of us. Who of us, for instance, does not carry inside someone living or dead – a parent, a lover, a friend, or mentor – who in some way changed the course of our life and helped make us who we are?

Even higher education – colleges and universities – was originally conceived not only as a venue of advanced learning but as a necessary social and psychological bridge from narrow adolescent groupings to the larger adult society.

Especially in democracies – which are by definition created “of the people, by the people, and for the people” – we are dependent on other people in every aspect of our lives.

But Romney and Paul Ryan are distancing themselves and their party from the immutable truth of community and what it means by adopting a by now all too familiar “I did it all by myself” stance.

First because it’s not true – both Romney/Bain and the Ryan family have depended greatly on government contracts, subsidies, and corporate tax exemptions. Romney often puts forth his involvement in Staples as proof of his extraordinary skills as a businessman. But one of Staples’ biggest clients is the Department of Defense – our military – with $13 million in orders. And in the second quarter of 2011, Staples received a $21 million tax refund through a special exemption. As for Ryan, his grandfather built the construction company that has provided for three generations of privilege on the back of government highway contracts.

Secondly, it’s just too much too bear from the neo-Gatsbys of Massachusetts and Wisconsin who were more than a tad bit dependent on the rich families that gave them a leg up. Someone has to explain to these two the old axiom that if you’re born on third base you did not actually go to bat and hit a triple. They did not build lives of privilege and elite schools and exceptional opportunities all by themselves. They had help from their DNA, those who loved them, and many others. To be successful, it does indeed take a village.

Mitt and Paul and all of us are dependent on workers who make furniture, who build houses and apartment complexes, who labor on the assembly lines, who pack our microwave lunches, and who make with their hands all the things the rest of us need. And yet, like the soldiers in Afghanistan, Mitt didn’t find them worthy of even one mention during his convention address.

Dad works two jobs, Mom works one and takes care of the kids, and this family has the temerity to feel they’re entitled to food or to some kind of basic housing? A soldier in Iraq gets his legs blown off and now expects healthcare? A senior citizen who paid into Social Security every two weeks for more than fifty years now has the balls to demand the government fork over a check every month? What an outrageous lack of personal responsibility!

More than 400 years ago, John Donne wrote an elegant prose section in Meditation XVII that he later turned into a poem.

No man is an island, entire of itself;
every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. . .
any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
it tolls for thee.

Still, when referring to 47% of our population in what was supposed to be a top secret briefing to financial backers, Romney says: “My job is not to worry about these people.”

That doesn’t cut it – a President’s job is to represent and worry about all the people – the richest and the poorest, the healthiest and the most infirm, the overworked and the unemployed, and everyone else. You cannot lead if you do not care for all the people.

So for Mitt and Paul – and all the rest of the rugged Republican individualists who built everything by themselves with absolutely no help from others, all of them who are not in the least involved in mankind – the death knell of the upcoming Presidential election tolls for thee…and, hopefully, for your sociopathic mindsets as well.

Related Posts:
Political Ramblings And Random Thoughts
From Death And Despair. . . Dreams Can Soar
Modest Solutions To Voter Suppression
Character. . . And The RNC
The Do-Damage Congress: Who’s Responsible?
Worse Than A Do Nothing Congress
Forget The Barbeque On Labor Day – It’s Time To Take Care Of Business
Chicken Shits: The Slippery Slopes of Chick-fil-A
The Vagina Solution
Fighting Back Part 4: The Big Liar, Intimidation And Revenge
Fighting Back Part 3: Fighting Fire With Fire
When The Past Is Prologue
Fighting Back Part 2: Defining Rovian Politics
Fighting Back
The Electoral Scam
Being Fair
Occupy Reality
Giving. . . And Taking Back
A Tale Of Two Grovers
A Last Pitch For Truth
America: Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.
Gotcha!

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Leandra

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

Q. Basically my boyfriend never wants to have sex and it confuses me. I wear sexy outfits, corsets, thongs, nothing but a skirt, fish nets stockings, but nothing works. I rub on him, even give him head, but he still doesn’t want to have sex with me. I don’t know what to do!!! Any tricks you could teach me?

A: Firstly, you need to know it’s NOT you. Wearing sexy outfits, lingerie etc., will only do so much. I am sure you look amazing!

It sounds like you have a real problem in the relationship here, I don’t think trying any tricks will help. How long has he been this way? Has he always been less sexual than you? Sometimes guys just are not sexual, despite the stereotype.

The first thing I think you should do is confront your boyfriend on this issue, but be kind and be gentle, this is a sensitive subject. I know this is frustrating and can do serious damage to your confidence and self esteem, but please try not to take it personally and please don’t think you’re not hot enough and can’t “do it” for him.

He should be willing to go to a doctor and have a few tests done, he may have a medical problem. He may have low testosterone, (you might want to Google that and see if he has other symptoms). He may have erectile dysfunction, which he can get pills for (Viagra and others). There may be a lack of blood flow to his penis, etc. It’s important to rule any physical factors out for his health.

Once you have ruled out anything physical, author possible causes could be emotional or mental. Has there been a change in the relationship or a change in his life? Could he be stressed, tired or overworked? Are you guys okay besides this sex problem? It may help him to talk to a therapist. You guys could even consider going to couples counseling together.

Basically, this doesn’t usually happen for no reason. Sure, some men and woman are just not very sexual, but there is usually a reason beyond that, especially if it hasn’t always been this way. You need to work together to get to the bottom of it, and you need to be supportive as I’m sure this is going to be a little embarrassing for him.

If he is not willing to seek any kind of help, you need to decide if you will be happy spending the rest of your life in a sexless relationship. Personally, I wouldn’t be so hurt that my boyfriend wasn’t having sex with me, I would be much more hurt if he wasn’t willing to try and do something about it.

Good luck!!!

Leandra
xXx

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

by Steven Whitney

Nation-building is a perilous task, mostly because the people you are allegedly “saving” from oppressive regimes often don’t share the same world view or want the things we think they should want.

For decades, hard line American foreign policy experts found it expedient to install or keep in office leaders whose greatest (and sometimes only) asset was their pro-American stance, aided by billions of American foreign aid dollars. They didn’t care if we were propping up a royal personage (Hassan II / Morocco), an upwardly mobile warlord (Barre / Somalia), a cruel dictator (Pinochet / Chile), or even an outright mass murderer (Pol Pot / Cambodia). It was a classic devil’s deal: as long as these puppet dictators let the USA pull their strings, we supported them, usually disregarding the popular (and underground) leaders who might have been elected by a democratic process. It was and is an anachronistically paternalistic policy – America as Father Knows Best – and it is thankfully dipping below the horizon of our history.

In the meantime, the excesses of these tyrants eventually turned their countries against them, most recently in Libya, Syria, and Egypt. And we supported the rebellions. But if America is going to promote – or at least not get in the way of – democracy abroad, it must realize that it is often not going to like the results. These new democracies are not created to please us, but rather to free their own people and let them choose their own leaders – that’s what democracy is about.

Like life itself, politics is a messy business, especially when you do the right thing and it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted or expected. In this new century of global integration, we have to stop acting like spoiled children accustomed to always getting our way and learn that self-determination means just that.

There’s a price to be paid for freedom…and often it is spread around unpredictably.

Republicans and Fox News howled when they discovered that “God” was not mentioned in the 2012 Democratic Platform. A veritable hue and cry followed. Democrats hastily put together a Yay or Nay convention floor vote with no audible winner. While the word “potential” was eventually changed to “God-given,” the DNC might have seized the opportunity to point out that the Constitution of the United States, the document office-holders are sworn to uphold, also does not contain the word “God.”

Look up the Constitution on the web. Then click Find for the word “God.” It won’t come up…because it isn’t there.

Our founders were extremely clear about the separation of church and state. Anyone who thinks otherwise should spend the rest of their days searching for God in our Constitution.

In most cases, children first discover the world at large in their local library…and adults find almost anything they need to learn or want to enjoy. Except for actual schools, libraries contribute more than any other institution to our growth as human beings and to the society we live in. They are the social hub of information sharing and, unlike most elected officials, libraries serve their entire communities, so when even one is in danger of closing, it’s imperative that the community push back.

Faced with just such a threat the good citizens of Troy, Michigan pushed back against the Tea Party / Grover Norquist tax fanatics. Watch this short video to see how the smartest use of reverse psychology I’ve ever witnessed saved their library.

These voters are not only informed, but amazingly creative. Bravo!

Writers generally love words. Lately, one phrase keeps intruding on my thoughts – “to the manor born.” It holds visions of British aristocracy, Downton Abbey and Upstairs, Downstairs. But now American has its own version.

Doesn’t Mitt Romney (and to a lesser extent, Paul Ryan) perfectly embody the concept of “to the manor born?”

Time magazine recently reported that more than one hundred bird species, including chickens, engage in some sort of homosexual behavior, much of it “casual sex.” And a study at Virginia Tech in 1964 discovered that cockerels placed in cages only with same sex chickens started getting it on pretty quickly. Of course, the bible on the topic is Bruce Bagemidhi’s Biological Exuberance: Animal Homosexuality and Natural Diversity, which confirmed Darwin’s finding that diverse sexual behavior – homosexuality, bisexuality, and more – naturally occurs in almost all animal species, including humans and chickens.

As a result, anonymous sources have revealed that in an all-out effort to prevent gay chickens from hitting their grills, CEO Dan Cathy has commissioned famed Minnesota sex orientation adjuster Marcus Bachmann to visit every one of Chick-fil-A’s facilities to “pray the gay away” from their otherwise magnificently heterosexual chickens.

Fowl behavior, indeed.

Our Worse Than a Do Nothing Congress recently set a new and shameless low in governing standards. On September 21st, members of Congress recessed for the all-important business of getting re-elected in November. It was the earliest exit from D.C. in over 50 years.

Congress reconvened from its summer vacation on September 10th – and worked nine full days before calling it quits – obviously spent by their oppressive workload. They might not have come back at all but, as always, Republicans had some important bills to block.

First up was the Veterans Jobs Bill, which would have created jobs for 20,000 veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. It actually passed 58 to 40, but Senate Republicans killed it by lodging an objection that then required a 60 vote passage.

House Republicans also stalled the Farm Bill because its $23 billion cut in farm subsidies over ten years was not nearly enough. And, too, the GOP wants to replace subsidies with a new privately run “crop insurance” program with projected costs of over $1 trillion that creates myriad irrational incentives for small farmers (while, of course, favoring huge agribusiness concerns).

Attached to the farm bill was a provision passed by the Senate cutting food stamps expenditures by one-half of one per cent. House Republicans want to quadruple the cut, so the bill was effectively tabled. Food stamps help feed 46 million Americans, many of them working families, part of the 47% of Americans Romney/Ryan accuse of feeling “entitled to food,” and if the GOP has its way, “those people” will be dining only at Midnight Missions throughout the country

Due to so much unfinished business, Congress will reconvene after the November election. Since some – and hopefully many – Republicans will be lame ducks by then, perhaps a few will veer from the hard party line and actually use their votes to help everyday Americans.

The biggest mistake President Obama made during what is hopefully his first of two terms was during his State of the Union address before Congress in January, 2009. Back then he should have declared that in the almost 3 months since the election he had been briefed on every aspect of our government and that everything was much worse than we – and he – had been told.

I’m sure he wanted to use that forum to regenerate his message of hope, but his lack of candor supplied the GOP with their rallying cry today: “He didn’t fix our mess fast enough!”

The Bush/Cheney administration left our country in disastrous ruin on almost every front and it would take more than even the full team of Avengers to repair the damage, especially when Congress does nothing but obstruct proposed bills that would help us regain our fiscal health.

Instead, Obama’s first SOTU address fostered what by then was unrealistic hope and, when truly miraculous change didn’t happen, the President was blamed by every screaming Republican.

The truth is that Bush/Cheney dug us into such a deep hole, it might take a full decade or more to recover, even longer if the GOP maintains its obstructionist posture or, heaven forbid, gains power and returns to the policies drove us off the cliff in the first place.

On Election Day, all you really have to do is remember who led us into the quicksand of failed policies from 2001 to 2008. And then vote.

Related Posts:
From Death And Despair. . . Dreams Can Soar
Modest Solutions To Voter Suppression
Character. . . And The RNC
The Do-Damage Congress: Who’s Responsible?
Worse Than A Do Nothing Congress
Forget The Barbeque On Labor Day – It’s Time To Take Care Of Business
Chicken Shits: The Slippery Slopes of Chick-fil-A
The Vagina Solution
Fighting Back Part 4: The Big Liar, Intimidation And Revenge
Fighting Back Part 3: Fighting Fire With Fire
When The Past Is Prologue
Fighting Back Part 2: Defining Rovian Politics
Fighting Back
The Electoral Scam
Being Fair
Occupy Reality
Giving. . . And Taking Back
A Tale Of Two Grovers
A Last Pitch For Truth
America: Forget it, Jake. It’s Chinatown.
Gotcha!

by Cameron Frye

For those of you who haven’t heard the news, I’ve lost 270+lbs. Since losing the weight, I’ve entered the dating world and it’s been….nice? Who am I kidding, it sucks. But I can’t be anti-social Suzy for the rest of my life and I can’t get drunk and hope for the best anymore. So I have to put some effort into finding someone and conning some unlucky bastard into loving me.

It was so much easier when I drank and it was always a surprise. I use to equate it with getting a goodie bag after a birthday party. The majority of the stuff was horse shit, but occasionally you’d find one gem to keep you occupied for a while. You have to admit, there’s no better feeling than waking up in the morning and finding out from your friends or from the guy that’s sleeping next to you what you did the night before and following it up with an awkward doctor’s visit filled with judgment on Monday. How I didn’t get herpes is still beyond me. But that’s not why we’re here!

We are here to read about my entrance into the dating world and what I’m doing to make it more enjoyable.

So I am going on a lot of blind dates or first dates or torture sessions (whatever you want to call them) and they’re painful. It’s filled with awkward conversations and judgment. I just assume they’re thinking the worst of me (I admit I’m doing the same to them) and I can also assume that the friends who are setting me up, think very little of me or they’re getting back at me for something fucked up I did in the past. Listen, it’s not my fault he lingered a little too long after that kiss and, really, you’re the only one to blame. You gave us permission to hook you up.

Anyways, after accepting another date from a bad karma charmer, I’ve been scheduling a second “date” for later in the evening. Ok, it’s not really a date. It’s just my version of the nightcap and, since I can’t drink right now or indulge in my favorite desserts without getting sick and vomiting all over the place, I need something to take the edge off.

So, I’ve been meeting up with one of my many hook ups from Christmas’ past and having sex. The way I see it, they’re performing a service and if anything, the lucky fella I really want to be with will thank them in the end or at least that’s what I’m telling myself this week.

Since losing the weight equivalent of a defensive lineman for the New England Patriots, I’m not 100% comfy with my appearance out of clothes. Granted, that’s normal and that’s why God created the dark – but I still think the more ‘practice’ I have being naked with a guy, the better. Right now my body looks like its melting and that’s not exactly a big selling point with guys out there. I know, I know, it’s more than looks. But that’s bullshit. If it was, I would have been beating them off with a stick when I weighed 448 and had the slight resemblance of Mama June on ‘Here Comes Honey Boo Boo’ – just sans neck crust. *shudders*

I doubled up on the ‘dates’ this weekend. The first one was with ‘a really nice guy’ that worked with my friend’s husband. Attractive, good job, well dressed – just nothing there. He had the personality of stomach cancer and was more into talking to his reflection in the mirror than me. Translation? He was a less witty Patrick Bateman.

Now I fully admit to checking myself out in the mirror when no one is looking, but he was looking at himself the entire time. I saw him winking at himself in the mirror once or he had a thing for the 60 year old he saw sitting behind us. I won’t lie; she was a looker…in 1954.

For almost two hours I sat there listening to him ramble on about Mitt Romney, soccer and his new BMW. He was also one of those guys who needs to know everything about what he was going to eat. I care about animals, I really do. But I don’t need to know the life story of the chicken that’s being added to my salad. I’d rather assume, the chicken gave his life for a noble cause – like to earn money, so he could feed his starving children and the world is a better place for it. OMMMMM *ding* Namaste. After hearing the chicken life story, I contemplated stabbing myself with my salad fork.

Instead of ruining a perfectly good outfit or dealing with a trip to the hospital, I decided to text Round 2 and asked if he wanted company earlier than we had planned. When he responded with a “yes,” I couldn’t have been happier. Well, that’s not true. I was happier than a pig in shit when Round 1 asked for the check. When he wasn’t looking, I might have greased the waiter and said there’s more if he can get me out of there in less than 10 minutes. It worked.

Boring Bateman got a little grabby on the way out. Evidently, he thought he won me over or I wasn’t picky. While I was trying everything in my power to get away, he got blinded by his reflection in the mirror and I was able to hop in the first available cab.

I guess, in a way, I should be honored. I mean, he didn’t drink much and I did look good. I’m going to assume that’s what made him a little rapey. Two points for the kid.

I texted round 2 and said I was on my way. I’m going to be honest, I was nervous. It’s like I said before, it was much easier when I drank. Everything is. Ok, maybe not driving, raising a child or threading a needle, but hooking up was. When I was drunk, the real me came out. I wasn’t the insecure ass that I usually am. I just didn’t care. I was more concerned with having fun and not getting pregnant or worse.

But the bucket of fun was forced to be sober and now we’re forced to dazzle people with the personality we really have, which in itself is a horrible idea. Deep down inside, I’m a good person – but I’m kind of an asshole. I laugh at awful things and I make awful jokes. I’m not exactly the girl you bring home to mom. That is, unless your mom loves Louis C.K. (Talking of which, can someone put in good word with him for me? Listen, I used to be fat – I can suck a mean dick. Feel free to pass this info on to him).

I met Round 2 at his place. Round 2 lives near one of my favorite bakeries and a place I’d stop off at if I had an exceptionally bad day. There was a sad moment when I wondered if I could break in, grab a cupcake, not get caught and still make it up stairs for cock. I tamed the Super Sugar Force and headed on up to his apartment.

It’s weird, I was far more comfortable walking into his apartment and jumping into sex, than I was sitting down and having a peaceful dinner and getting to know someone. Being sexually confident and going for what I want in the bedroom is cakewalk or fart. (BTW can we please stop farting on cakes? You’re wasting a perfectly delicious treat.), It’s much easier than letting down the walls and letting someone in. I swear, I didn’t get that from any self-help nonsense. I came up with that embarrassing piece of verbal vomit myself.

I know why being sexually aggressive is easier for me, I had to do that most of my life. If I wanted something, I had to go get it myself. If I wanted someone, I had to do everything in my power to make them want me. But controlling that side is hard. I use to pick some awful men (i.e. married men or men already involved) to keep in my fat stable and I’d like to think I’m better than that. I just need to start believing it. I really need to stop talking to my mom when she’s watching her favorite TV shrink of the moment.

Until that happens, I’m going to keep on having fun the only way I know how. At least I know I’ll go to bed with a smile on my face and my vibrator batteries live for another day.

Since losing weight, Cameron Frye has gone from writing about sports to writing about sex. You can follow/stalk her on Twitter or read her ramblings on DigBoston.com/. If you know Louis C.K. – put in a good word for her. Also, she’s now accepting tattoo artist recommendations in the Boston area.