My Sincerest Apologies

Hey guys, I am so sorry I have not been able to write another blog this week! I have been trying to get ready for a trip and in my spare time I’ve been attempting to sleep…and shower…I need to do that after this…

I am going off the grid for a while since my cell phone and wifi are not available. 

I do promise, however, to expose many embarrassing stories after I get back in a week! 

Thanks! -Collegelady17

Advertisements

Why shaving sucks

I hate shaving. I really do. Yes, I will admit I love when my legs are smooth, but the process of getting nicely shaved legs is a real pain. However, prior to a date it’s a necessary part of the routine. Why is that? When in society did the style of smooth legs become a norm? I mean God forbid we let men know that our legs – and our lady parts – grow hair.

The first thing I despise about shaving, is the amount of time it takes to get everything. You can’t go quickly, oh no, you have to take your time or else you end up looking like you’ve been attacked by vicious squirrels on your legs. Am I the only one who can easily take 20-30 minutes shaving?

This brings me to another reason why I hate shaving: the cuts. I cannot tell you the amount of times I have nicked my knees or my ankles and wondered if I was going to bleed out from that little cut. It’s like the bleeding won’t stop! And of course, once it’s healed, I have a talent for nicking myself in the exact same spot.

As if that isn’t enough, there’s always the dreaded missed spot. I don’t care how long I take and how OCD I become while shaving, I have that one little area that becomes magically immune to the stupid razor. As I move my hand over my leg to inspect a job well done, there’s always a damn patch or strip just staring at me…usually around the parts I try not to nick or on my thighs.

The biggest pet peeve of mine when it comes to shaving, is the body contortion I resort to in order to get everything. One leg propped up on a ledge, one hand pushing my inner thigh away, the other hand gently shaving to make sure I don’t slice any important lady parts off….yeah that’s a pain. I feel like there ought to be a shaving yoga class based on the moves I do while shaving in the shower.

Overall, shaving just plain sucks. I could rant for days over why I hate it, but in the end I do it anyways. Whether it be for dates or in order to avoid looking like Chewbacca while wearing shorts, I am a slave to the razor….

But not today. Today as I write I feel the prickliness of my leg hair poking my skin as I cross my legs. Today I rebel…until I shower later…ugh.

What’re your thoughts on shaving?

Too much spice in my love life…

Spicy food and “sexy time” simply do not mix. Ladies, if a man cooks spicy food for you, be very very cautious. Gentlemen, it’s safer to stick with Italian or something else. Nothing ruins simmering passion like the hellfire of spicy food.  That valuable lesson was something I learned very early on in my college love life…

The guy I was seeing at the time, we’ll call him Jeff for the sake of ease, had invited me over for dinner. It was very early on in our relationship and I could tell he was trying to woo me with his ability to cook.

He prepared a mouth-watering meal of steak fajita soft tacos. He dressed it up with sour cream, cheese, grilled onions, and jalapenos…good grief it was tasty. The jalapenos, however, were hotter in flavor than what I was used to.

Dinner passed as well as it could, eating the tacos and both of us trying our best not to make a mess or get caught with a chunk of cheese dangling off of our lips (the sour cream got me).

After dinner, I helped him clean a bit and then we talked for a while before the inevitable occurred. Gentle kisses turned to a make out session and caressing above the waistline slowly migrated southward.

In the midst of being pleasured that’s when it hit…

It wasn’t a sudden pain but rather a gradual sensation that soon became possible to ignore. The rhythmic motion that was supposed to be bringing pleasure began to feel uncomfortable…almost burning-like. Not wanting to let him know anything was amiss, I stayed in the moment trying to pass it off as lack of experience.

The burning sensation in my lower region grew more urgent and throbbing and the pleasurable sensations dissipated completely…and that’s when logic kicked in.

Very calmly but firmly I pulled his hand away from my legs and sat up. I could see the confusion on his face.

“Jeff,” I asked with as much composure as I could muster, “Which hand did you use to pick up the jalapenos?”

 He stared at me for a moment, completely dumbfounded, and then he realized what had just happened. With a horrified gasp he bolted up and enfolded me in a giant hug.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Is it burning? Oh my God. I am so freaking sorry,” he kept repeating, clearly mortified.

I excused myself to use his restroom and tried without success to wipe away the burning…it only makes it worse, in case anyone was wondering…

I sat back on his bed unsure of what to do as he continued to apologize and ask if there was anything he could do.

“I’ve never had this happen before,” he muttered guiltily, “I am so sorry. I’m trying to think what could help.”

Jeff hugged me, furiously thinking as I tried to man up and take the pain without too much complaint.

He must have been thinking too hard as he stared at me and quietly suggested, “You know, when I eat something spicy I drink milk…I have some milk in the fridge if you want to put some down there?”

…..Bless his heart….. I turned down the offer to splash my lady parts with milk and instead opted to be taken back to my dorm.

On the way back to the complex, I looked at him and laughed to myself. It had been the first time I had ever really done anything with a guy so naturally I had to get burned.

Being the sarcastic butthead that I am I looked at him and said, “You know, if you weren’t interested in seeing me again all you had to do was say so. No need to sabotage my vagina…”

Jeff looked back at me horrified and set off on another apology rant.

Needless to say, the date was eventful and yes, I did in fact see him again… with the condition that no jalapenos were used at dinner…

I am NOT Megan Fox in the bedroom…

 

There are a lot of moments in life, especially in mine, that require a palm-to-face response. In my later teen years, I read a lot of sweetheart romance novels that defined “sexy time” as easy going and passionate. You never saw any of Nora Robert’s characters epically failing at seduction!

I, however, am not one of Nora Robert’s characters. In fact, I am quite the opposite. If there was an anti-Christ of seduction, it would be me! It just doesn’t happen for me. I cannot count the amount of times that I have had a set scene in my head and the execution of it failed with flying colors.

One of the more memorable moments occurred when I tried to strip tease for my boyfriend at the time…

We had been together for a while at that point and I wanted to bump things up to the next level. I spent the afternoon at the mall carefully finding the perfect outfit…I wanted to look Hot, like Megan Fox hot…

I splurged on a sexy pair of underwear and a matching bra and decided I was going to show up in a cute top and leggings (I spent my budget on the undergarments…college problems).

That night I showed up to his place, movies in hand and wearing what I thought to be an enticing outfit. He happily grabbed the movies, gave me a kiss and plopped down to put the movies in. I sat on the couch hoping he’d notice the cleavage that was slightly peeking out of the top I’d chosen….he glanced over but said nothing.

As the movie progressed I grew impatient and leaned in closer with my chest angled towards him…still nothing. “So I bought something new today,” I said trying to get his attention.

“Did you?” he replied back, turning towards me. I asked him if he wanted to see and slightly confused he nodded. I stood up in front of him and as best as I could slowly peeled off my top.

He was paying attention now.

Encouraged, I looked at him, smiled and put my hands on my leggings and started to shimmy them down. As I pulled them down his eyes became super focused and widened.

He shouldn’t be that excited yet, I thought to myself. But something felt wrong. I was getting way too much air in my downtown regions. I looked down and what I saw took a second to register in my head.

The underwear I had bought was thin so it had rolled down with my leggings, leaving my lower area completely exposed…

Anyone else would have gone with it but no, not me. I panicked. I immediately squeaked in embarrassment and sat down as quickly as I could onto the couch while yanking the leggings back up.

My boyfriend fell to the ground laughing. I was mortified. I was not ready to be so bold in bright lighting. To make matters worse I conked my head against the side of the couch as I rolled to hide my face, which only made him laugh harder.

In the end, the night went successfully but he never let me live it down. Needless to say I never tried to strip tease again, and he certainly never asked. But boy how he loved to bring it up…