Sex Talks

I spent the past four days shopping for a wedding dress on the east coast.  Four days, 10 appointments across two states, and I believe roughly 70 dresses. My "Overachievers Anonymous" group tells me that's a lot. Just kidding. I obviously don't have time for Overachievers Anonymous.  People have tons of advice around proper shopping for the "most important dress you'll ever wear" (side note: people who say that obviously have no intention of winning an Academy Award). They say, "know what you want, but be prepared to end up with the opposite," (well then why don't I just shop for the opposite of what I want?) and, "pick the dress that feels like you...as a bride," (but I've never been a bride...) and my favorite, "you're going to be looking at pictures of this dress for the rest of your life, so make sure you like how you look in it," (who, exactly, is purchasing dresses that they think they look bad in?). I am...

Two things make today's post incredibly relevant: 1. Tonight is Game 7 of the NBA finals. A. I know this, which is big in and of itself. B. I know that the San Antonio Spurs and their "Flying Frenchman" Tony Parker are playing the Miami Heat and their maybe-greatest-player-of-all-time LeBron James (huge of me!). I also know that some guy named Duncan was supposed to have a big game but hasn't yet, some guy named Bosch (sp?) is potentially an alien, and the team from Miami has a player named Dwayne Wayne (what am I, some kind of ESPN person?!). Also the coach from Texas is hysterical and the coach from Miami looks like he's 15 (that's just simple observation, but still). That's the gist of everything, right? Back to  Kareem Abdul Jabbar who is also a famous basketball player - relevancy connection #1. 2. Kareem Abdul Jabbar palmed my mother's her belly when I was in her womb. That is a cold, hard fact. My mom was teaching at a fancy, L.A. private school...

(I had not idea this was an actual show on Style Network, but I'm grateful for the logo) If you are currently or have ever planned a wedding in which you are the one getting married, then you've definitely passionately exclaimed the line: it's my wedding! Maybe it was followed by, "I know you want a mariachi band, but..." or, "I understand you'd prefer that I didn't wear a black dress, but..." or, "I respect your need to read a Dr. Seuss poem, but..." ( Note: none of the above have actually happened to me...yet) You were not wrong. You are slash were the one getting married. Without that key detail, the event would not exist. No one but you and your betrothed accomplishes anything at the event remotely paramount to what you do (that being join together for a lifetime). It is, by definition, your wedding. But it's also kind of not. You're probably not paying for absolutely every detail, but even if you are, it still isn'...

I intend to be a rich old lady some day. This isn't a necessity - a, "life isn't worth living unless you're living large," thing, but I don't think it makes logical sense to aspire to be a poor, old lady, so I'm channeling my positive thinking toward a future filled with success. So in an effort to "secret" my way into said success, I figure it also makes logical sense to have some plans for my future, rich old lady life. Here are those plans, to date. Suggestions are welcome from those of you who are or currently know a fabulous, rich old lady (ROL from here on out). I'm going to get my hair done at least once a week.  I have really difficult hair, and I've never taken the time to learn to do it right. So when I'm a ROL I'm going to find a killer salon with super delicious smelling hair products and a fab gay man who will do my hair at least once a week. I'm not sure what kind of hair I'll have once I'm a ROL, but I...

Yes, that's guest blogger Geanna and yours truly having a tea party circa 1984.  Today I am honored to welcome a guest post by my older cousin slash life guinea pig, Geanna. You may recall her name from several blog posts past. Today she opens up about what she learned during her 30th year of life on the eve of her 31st birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GEEGEE! This coming Sunday (�which is also Father�s Day, which has become a point of contention with my immediate family, which has lead to us celebrating both occasions on another day completely, which is not the point of this post�), I�m going to turn 31. Thirty. One. When this blog�s creator and I were playing dress-up and plotting out the lives of our future selves, we never imagined being �this old.� It�s not that we thought we�d be dead before 30, it�s just that it seemed too far away to even worry about or comprehend. But now, here we are, living lives (I think) better than what we could have predicted while dancing around to Annie ,...

If you've lived in L.A. for any longer than 6 month and are a woman, you've heard of the "naked spas." Thanks to our city's very large and active Korea Town there is a very large and active Korean population, and as I now know, Koreans respect the spa like no one else - well, like no one else but the women of L.A. Less than six month into my own L.A. life I started hearing people swear by the naked spa. The scrub is like nothing you've ever experienced! The hot huts are absolutely amazing! The green tea pools will change your life! And these reviews were coming from a wide range of women, not just my Korean friends (hi Annie!). Now here's where this gets personal. I am one of four girls and a generally not modest person, but I don't spent a lot of time naked in large groups. There was this one time in college involving a game of strip flip cup and...nevermind (right Carly!?). Let's just say that walking around in my birthday suit isn't somethi...

I spent most of Thursday afternoon reading through the first two years of these blog posts, partly because I've been feeling nostalgic (already) but mostly because I'm prepping a little surprise (it's a book!). I learned several things about my former self through all that reading - I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to do with my life; I spent an inordinate amount of time at bars; I had exactly the same amount of shoes - but paramount among the themes was this idea of "the rules." I wrote a whole post about how to initiate communication with a potential date via Facebook. 500 words. I'd link to it here, but I'm too ashamed of the fact that it exists. There was a post on the proper way to speak to an attractive person at a bar. There was a whole expose about whether or not one should hook up on the second date. I did a full week on what constitutes cheating. I was obsessed with this idea of modern dating etiquette, or, more specifically, how to surviv...

This past weekend the yenta-angel who introduced me to R was in L.A. for a visit. Every time I'm around her, I feel guilty for not paying her great gift forward by setting up more lovely single people in my own life. Part of the reason I rarely play matchmaker is because it very rarely ends up as well as my own set-up did (that being as good as humanly possible aka with marriage). But the other reason is because it's tricky, logistically speaking. How exactly should one bring two people together? What if they don't know each other? What if they do? What if you want her to know it's a set up, but not him? What if it's the reverse. I can over-think reserved seat selection in a stadium seating movie theater ("orchestra"? center back?? behind a handi-capped seat???), so you can only imagine the mine field that is helping two people find lasting love.  If you're anything like me (and please god say that you are...) then you might appreciate these helpful t...

I've written 800 posts on this here blog. Well, technically I've written 799 and am currently writing the 800th. I'm sure there are other things I've done 800 times in my life (bought a coffee? pretended to understand baseball? tried to make orange-red lipstick work?), but this feels like it might be the most significant. Maybe it's because I have a visual account of it all? Or maybe it's because very soon - two months from Friday, to be exact - I'm not going to be a 20-Nothing anymore. This blog won't get to 900 posts (unless I get super aggressive between now and August 7th, which isn't going to happen because I have to spend 50% of my day looking at wedding blogs). I've written about the fact that this little blogger page changed my life ad nauseam. It has completely and entirely (sorry, one last time), but that wasn't the point going in, and it's the last thing I want to focus on going out. The point was always to talk about surviving...