Friday, July 30, 2010

NFL News: Sam Bradford Gets $78 mill., $50 mill. guaranteed!

Seriously? Now, I love my football--actually, I'm a heart-pulsing, passionate, sweat dripping, hand wringing, voice losing, die-hard kind of fan--but this just seems absurd for a rookie who has thrown zero passes in the NFL.

The former OU quarterback reportedly agreed to an astonishing six-year, $78 million dollar contract with the St. Louis Rams.  According to reports, Bradford becomes the first player in league history to make at least $50 million in guarantees. 

For Bradford, the time has come to start living up to the hype. Good luck with that.

Read all about the insanity here: ESPN: Rams-Bradford Agree to Terms

Friday's Celebrity Frisky Virgin: Julianne Hough

The former Dancing With The Stars beauty announced in 2008 that she was still a virgin and wanted to remain so until marriage.

Julianne dated her brother's best friend, and current DWTS professional, Mark Ballas, prior to her stint on DWTS.  She was also engaged to dancer Zach Wilson for a time.  As she pursued her country music career in 2008, Julianne began a very public relationship with country music singer Chuck Wicks.  The two broke up in November of 2009. 

Currently, Julianne, 22, is rumored to be dating Ryan Seacrest.  The two have avoided answering specifics about their rumored relationship, but the possible lovebirds were recently spotted canoodling while on vacation in Italy.

The latest rumor?  Julianne may be moving in with Ryan.  Interesting...could wedding bells be next?

Thursday, July 29, 2010

Secret Celebrity 30-Something Virgin?

Definitely maybe. According to Gawker and CDaN, there is another 30-something virgin in this world tiptoeing through the sex jungle that is life, only she is doing it (or, you know, not doing it) in Hollywood. She-who-must-not-be-named is said to be very attractive and stars on a hit network television show.

Any guesses?

Stereotype Slayer #4: Virgins Are Scared Of Sex

My undercover virgin notes reveal a pretty surprising stereotype this week. Numerous men have told me they believe the reason a woman chooses to stay a virgin has nothing to do with love or innocence, but with fear.  When I inquired further, they simply say, "Virgins are scared to have sex."

I had to think about this one for a minute. Am I scared? I mean, I'm definitely raring to go, but I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't nervous. Still, many of my sexually active friends over the years have told me they always get nervous making love with someone they truly care about. Besides, if I am truly terrified of sex, I wouldn't look forward to it so much, and I certainly wouldn't have racked up a ton of fantasies...but that's for another day.

I am scared of one thing: Getting my heart broken. Then again, who isn't afraid of having their heart ripped to shreds? 

Simply put, virgins aren't scared of sex.  We're just a happy-kind-of-nervous when it comes to being with the one we love, and that makes us no different than any other soul searching for its other half.

Stereotype #4--SLAYED.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Why Wednesday #4: Why Tell A Guy You're A Virgin?

There are two schools of thought regarding when, how, and if I should tell a guy/date about my virginity:

1.  Wait. Let the guy get to know you--appreciate you--before telling him. 
2.  Tell him right away.  Give the guy the opportunity to run. 

I've tried both options. I'll let you decide which turned out the best.

Option One, Wait: This is the #1 most recommended method for handling your virginity (Yeah, I know, that just sounded like some infomercial for wrinkle cream or acne wash).  The general school of thought is that the guy will get to know you, appreciate you, and be more accepting, perhaps even try to stick it out. There is one slight hiccup, however: The Third Date.  The third date is commonly known as "the sex date."  I had been dating Bicker Dicker for about a month at this point, but, because of our hectic schedules, we had only been out on two dates (the rest of the time we were on the phone).

Third Date, Valentine's Day: After an elegant dinner, we hopped in his car and headed down the highway.  It hadn't crossed my mind that this was date number three until he interrupted one of my favorite songs to play a "special" track he picked out especially for me. Okay, cute, right?  The fact that his hands were shaking while he found the song should have clued me in. Damn. It was a sex song.  Granted, it wasn't Bump 'N Grind, but it was distinctly sex-driven.  I sat there, fairly calm, and waited for him to ask me back to his place.  It never happened.

Turns out, he played the song hoping I would ask to go back to his place.  Seriously.  Beg for sex?  Um, no.  When I didn't, he put on the pout of the century, dropped me off in the middle of my icy driveway, and roared off down the road. So, there I was in brand new heels, trying to get to my door without busting my butt on the ice. Though he called three days later, acting like the attentive boyfriend (it was kinda creepy, really), I couldn't get over the fact that he left me in the icy driveway, at night, in heels.

Option Two, Tell Him: Yeah, I did exactly this before my first date with a certain man.  I expected him to run.  He didn't.  He stalked.  For over a year. Yeah.

Neither option worked out so well for me.  I suppose the best thing to do is listen to your gut--if your gut says, tell him, then tell him; if you aren't comfortable telling him, wait. If he's the right one, everything will just fall into place...hopefully.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Part Two: The Unfortunate Fortune Cookie May Be Fortunate?

After reading your comments, I channeled my optimistic side and thought a little more about this whole ripped-love-fortune thing. Here's the original post, just in case you might be curious:

WARNING: I'm going to get all deep, philosophical, and borderline icky-sweet here.  If you have a weak stomach, take a Dramamine or grab a barf bag before reading on.

Perhaps, rather than some bad omen, it was a metaphor for two people, two hearts, two souls, searching for their match in life.  In order to read the fortune in its entirety, I had to piece the halves together, much like two souls need to come together to feel whole in life.  Maybe the once cruel fortune was really trying to tell me that my best friend, my soul mate, is out there--perhaps at a distance--wishing to feel complete.  All that needs to happen now is for fate to piece our souls together, like I did the fortune.

This is what I'm going with anyway...

Monday, July 26, 2010

True Blood Tuesday

Okay, this was a gruesome week on True Blood--totally living up to its name: blood, blood, and more blood.

Franklin & Tara: Tara does her best to play Franklin, who gets peeved when she doesn't notice his clean-shaven face.  Seducing Franklin, Tara succeeds in getting him to untie her...of course she then had to follow through with her seduction, which included biting his neck and pulling the flesh from his bones.  Ick.  The next morning, Tara takes an antique club-thing and beats the crap outta Franklin (think brain crushing).  More ick.  Tara escapes to find Sookie, which she does.  I'm not thinking freaky Franklin is dead, though.

Eric: Much to Sookie's disgust, Eric effectively voices his disinterest in her.  He even went so far as to forcefully tell her she means nothing to him.  Sookie followed with, "I fu*&!@ hate you, Eric Northman!" Not sure Eric liked hearing that, but he is far too focused on avenging his family to worry.  Russell is clearly his target.  HIGHLIGHT: Who didn't swoon when Eric scooped the Queen into his arms after leaving her no option but to marry Russell? Yeah, I just found the whole scooping-thing sexy.

Lafayette & Jesus: Jesus and Lafayette put a beating on some thugs who were busy taking baseball bats to Lafayette's new car.  All wasn't good for the new pair, however: Jesus decided Lafayette's job as a V dealer is a deal breaker and ended things...for now. 

Jason & Crystal: Crystal has secrets she is unwilling to share with Jason. She clearly fears for the two of them, should someone find out about their attraction.  One secret? She's engaged to one of the thugs who trashed Lafayette's car.  Jason, meanwhile, looked good in his jeans.  Sorry, it's all I could focus on.

Sam:  Have I mentioned I can't stand his father? You can now add the mother to my "strongly dislike" list.  The second she slapped Tommy--revealing that if it hadn't been for his father, she would have terminated her pregnancy--then demanded that it's his duty to provide for them, I couldn't stand her.  And how does he provide for them? By illegal dog fighting. Tommy shifts into a pit bull and fights.  Sam figured everything out by the end of the show, so hopefully he can stop them before Tommy gets hurt.

Bill, Sookie, and Lorena: Russell ordered Lorena to kill Bill for withholding information about Sookie. Lorena, following Russell's orders, slices Bill's chest open, slices her finger, sticks her finger inside his chest wound, and blends their blood.  Ick. She continues to pour her heart out to Bill, blah, blah, blah.  Bill says he would have enjoyed seeing her before she turned.  He also brilliantly told her that he welcomes death because it would mean getting away from her. She then allowed two gross werewolves (Alcide's ex and her scummy fiancee, husband, whatever) to feed on Bill.  Yeah, I hate Lorena.  And we're supposed to sympathize with this character by the end of the season? Hmm.

So, Bill's dying. Tara rushes off to find a getaway car, while Sookie is desperate to find Bill.  Tara is confronted by Alcide (bare bum alert!), who assure her he is a good guy and is looking for Sookie. Meanwhile, Sookie reaches Bill and professes her love and determination to save him, before--who else?--Lorena slams her against the wall and starts sucking Sookie's neck, blaming her for everything. 

Despite the gore, there were some highlights: Eric carrying the Queen away with ease, Jason in jeans, Alcide's bare bum.  Yeah.

Next week looks intense: Sookie in the hospital (possibly bitten by Bill as well); Eric going after Russell; Tara telling someone (Franklin?) to just get it over with; very dramatic stuff for next week.

Makeup Magic Monday--Urban Decay Primer Potion

This is quite literally a "can't live without" product for all women.  How would you like to put on eye shadow and have it last, not melt off, and not crease? Urban Decay's Eyeshadow Primer Potion is a miracle in a bottle.

It is the ultimate eye shadow base with ABSOLUTELY NO CREASING! Your eye makeup will look perfect ALL DAY and will STAY PERFECT until you wash it off at night. I'm in love with this primer.

NOTE: I put it on first and let it dry for a good minute or two, before dusting on my bare minerals.

NOTE: You do not need as much eye shadow when using this primer; it quite literally makes your colors look rich and vibrant. Use a light hand until you are comfortable.

Urban Decay Eyeshadow Primer Potion is available at Sephora for $18. This is a must have for anyone who wears any eye shadow!!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

The Unfortunate Fortune Cookie

I discovered I loved Chinese food when I was 20.  For years, this little southern girl stayed with what she knew--her mama's southern cooking, her daddy's BBQ, and, of course, Tex Mex.  In order to lure me into a Chinese restaurant, my family and friends dangled the fortune cookie carrot in front of my face, knowing I fall for anything related to fate or serendipity. 

Not only did I love the food (pork-fried rice, anyone?), but I loved cracking open those little fortune cookies at the end of a meal.  I actually still have some of my favorite fortunes from years past. Yesterday's fortune cookie is not a keeper.

After my meal, I ripped into the wrapping, cracked open the cookie, and anxiously looked for my fortune.  Um, yeah, where's my dang fortune? Looking in each cookie half, I spotted a piece of paper in each. Oh! I got two fortunes?! No, idiot, you didn't get two fortunes; you got one...that is ripped in two. Pulling out each half, I pieced them together to read my quasi-fortune.

"Your true love awaits your arrival." 

Seriously? Um, okay. Would have been cool if it hadn't been torn smack dab down the middle. I've had empty fortune cookies--they suck. Never have I had one split in two. Yeah, and I've never had a fortune related to love. This can't be good. 

NASCAR Rundown: Jamie McMurray Wins the Brickyard 400

We were back to racing this weekend with the Brickyard 400 after a one week break in the schedule (I go through withdrawals when I don't have my racing).  Jamie McMurray brought home the win for Chip Ganassi, giving Chip the three big wins in racing this year: Daytona 500 (Jamie McMurray), Indy 500 (Dario Franchitti), and now the Brickyard 400. Congratulations to Jamie, his team, and Chip! Jamie and his wife are absolutely adorable kissing those bricks!

The big "son of a b" moment: Juan Pablo Montoya blows a tire and collects Dale Earnhardt Jr. in the process, ruining a top 15 or better for Dale. Wrong place, wrong time.  Yes, Dale is my driver, always has been...and don't bother talking smack--I've heard it all and my skin is thick. Believe what you want, but Dale will win a championship--I am certain of it.  How am I certain? Because my gut tells me it will happen...if you knew my gut, you'd understand why I listen to it.

Anyway, it's good to have racing soon to follow. Lord help me, I love my sports.

Friday, July 23, 2010

Friday's Celebrity Frisky Virgin: Taylor Swift

In 2008, Taylor, now 20, confronted pregnancy rumors by announcing her virginity. She told Allure magazine in 2009, "...when you talk about virginity and sex publicly, people just automatically picture you naked.  And as much as I can prevent people picturing me naked, I'm going to."

Taylor is also best friends with last week's celebrity virgin, Selena Gomez. Stay strong until you find the one--your heart will guide you.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Harry Potter Makes Things Better

Sometimes, a wonderful, magical world makes the one you're living in a little better.

*I can't get the video to it working for anybody? This is so fitting with this day. :o(

The Shame Game

Some days are tougher than others. This is one of those days. In the span of about six hours, I've been shamed...twice...for who I am. I like to think I'm strong, but days like these tend to test my perceived strength. I like to call people who do the shaming, Sharon Shamers.

Sharon Shamer 1: Random talk with Sharon Shamer about life's stresses. I thought it was a good girl-talk until...

Sharon Shamer: "But, seriously sweetie, you can't really talk about stress, can you? I mean, you're single.  When you finally get a husband and have a two-year-old running around the house, then you've earned the right to share in the stress talk.  Until then, just enjoy life, buy yourself a little handbag or something.  Go shopping.  Do the light stuff singles do until your real life comes along. Although, you're choice makes you a little different than most singles, doesn't it? Well, good for you, sweetie. It will make it more difficult because most men aren't going to wait around, but, still, you will always have shopping."

Maybe she really did mean well.  It kinda stung, though.

Sharon Shamer 2: Sharon Shamer #2 decided to tell me all about her life before marriage. It was an interesting and fun story to hear, until...

Sharon Shamer #2: "I mean, I don't know what would have happened to me if I hadn't met my husband when I did. I didn't have a job, I was alone, and I was 29 years old! I mean, at 29, the window is about to close on opportunity. Any older and it's a total crap-shoot."

Yeah. Not a very good day. Kinda hurts, actually.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Why Wednesday #3: Why Not One-Night Stand It?

This question is usually my fault; it always seems to follow one of my "32 year-old virgin" rants. 

A close friend or family member will say, "Just go out and have a one night stand, if you're feeling crappy about it taking so long. You can always just get it taken care of, you know." 

I'll follow with, "No, I want love."

Their response? Some version of: "I know, but maybe just get the physical part over with--it doesn't have to be perfect. Then, when you find love, you'll be past the burden of having to tell them and you can just enjoy, no nerves."

I can't honestly say their logic doesn't have some semblance of sense to it: I get the stigma off my back, I don't have to fear telling the man I'm seeing about my choice, and I would likely feel more relaxed with the one I'm in love with. Here's the catch: would I be able to look at myself in the mirror the next day? Probably not, no. Once I meet the one, would I regret not waiting for him? Yes, without question.

So, even though one night might relieve a few stresses in my life, in the long run, I'm certain it would only add more stress and regret. 

I want love. Period. End of discussion. That's just me, silly as it seems.

True Blood Tuesday (On Wednesday)

Thanks to a combination of weather and technical difficulties, I couldn't watch True Blood until tonight. Boo-hiss!

My thoughts on Episode 5, now that all the big players are in Mississippi:

Sookie: For those of you who haven't read the books, I won't reveal Sookie's family secret.  I think we all know she is something a little more than human. I loved how she zapped that slimy werewolf-guy. 

Bill: He's sooooo in a bind. The king of Mississippi knows Bill was holding out on him regarding Sookie, thanks to freaky Franklin.  Despite giving the King an effective line of crap, Bill revealed his true intentions when he escaped Russell's thugs to find Sookie. 

Lorena: Thankfully, we were free of her for most of the episode.  When she did pop up, it was to reiterate her desire for Bill...again.  Ugh.

Eric: How happy did he look when Bill said Sookie no longer belongs to him? That little smirk spoke volumes.  Probably the most interesting part of the episode was Eric's viking background.  Upon seeing a viking crown in Russell's collection, Eric recalled the night his mother, father, and baby sister were murdered by werewolves acting under the control of a cloaked man; the crown belonged to his father.  I smell revenge. 

Sam: Yeah, I'm not liking his family. His brother, Tommy, isn't bad, but his father!!!!! HORRIBLE!

Jason: Is it just me or is Jason especially adorable this season? Looks like Jason has found the meaning of love at first sight with the mysterious, lovely Crystal.

Lafayette: Looks like our saucy cook/V-dealer is getting a love interest. His mother's nurse is so the smitten kitten with our fiery Lafayette.

Tara & Franklin: Props to Tara for playing Franklin beautifully.  Unfortunately, she may have played her role too well--Franklin now wants to turn her into a vampire. Franklin is clearly unstable.  I think he's been alone too long and is desperate for companionship.  Someone needs to tell him that tying someone up, holding them against their will, and threatening to change them, isn't exactly the way to win them over.  Still, the man can text.

Looks to be a Mississippi-Louisiana show-down next week! Can't wait!

Loving this season so far; it's perfect eye-candy: vampires and werewolf-men and shifters, oh my!

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Stereotype #3: Virgins Are Librarians, Wear Glasses, and Twist Their Hair in a Bun

No, I'm not joking.  A surprising number of men truly believe most virgins are librarians, who wear glasses and tie their hair up in a "boring bun." When I say I have heard it all as an undercover virgin, I truly mean, I have heard it ALL.

This virgin's take? I think it's the male libido subconsciously wanting to watch the straight-laced, good girl save a horse and ride a cowboy.

For the record, I'm not a librarian.  Although...I suppose I could role play one.  You know, I could dress up in a pencil skirt and crisp white blouse, tie my hair in a bun, stick a pencil behind my ear, and slip on some glasses. Then...let the games begin. Turn on a little Marvin Gaye, shake down the hair, unbutton the shirt, throw off the glasses, unzip the pencil get the picture.

Now, I ask you, does that sound boring to you?

Stereotype #3--SLAYED...and then some.

I Don't Get It: Lindsay Lohan

So, Lindsay checked herself into jail today.  No biggie, right? I mean, she disrespected the justice system and now she has to face the consequences.  Happens everyday, all over the globe.  There were just a few *minor* differences:

1. The media awaiting her arrival seriously rivaled crowds awaiting the President wherever he goes.
2. Someone threw confetti on her as she approached the doors.
3. She will likely not serve the full sentence.
4. A certain media outlet proudly announced that they were the only ones to bring the "event," in all its glory, LIVE to America.
5.  Her father, or "ex-father," as she calls him, took the opportunity to show up and mug for the cameras.
6. My favorite of the bunch: The aforementioned media outlet referred to their LIVE segment as "Lindsay's final moments of freedom."  Cue dramatic music. Final moments of freedom....for, like, two weeks, maybe?

I don't get it.  *Let me also add--I feel badly for her, I really do. She needs people around her who truly care.  I hope she will move forward from this with a renewed outlook on life. I hope.

Seriously, Karma?

Are the cosmic powers trying to do me in? Do the fates hate me that much? Is my personal karma suffering from PMS? Maybe the universe is trying to send me a message.  Hmm.  I'm not sure I care for the rather obvious meaning of said message.

Let's review the facts, shall we?

* First, we have the cold shower phenomenon. Coincidence? I'm thinking probably not, given recent developments.

* Last night, I had a disturbing dream.  In the dream-nightmare, someone I know is marrying a woman with one heck of a m.o.  Think BIG time gold digger.  And, yes, these people exist in reality.  Note: to date, they are not engaged; they are, however, together, and it seems all but the poor guy can see her true self.

* Finally, we have a string of songs that, to my utter disdain, seem to reek of sardonic irony.

Like A Virgin (Madonna). 
Roll eyes, change the station.
All By Myself (original version).
Oh, hell no. IMMEDIATELY change the station.
My Heart Will Go On (Celine Dion; yeah, the Titanic theme song).
Where's the rope? I mean, seriously?

My interpretation of karma's message, taking all events into account: I apparently need the cold shower because I'll always be a virgin, I'll always be alone, and the men of the world only go for shady women with less than honorable intentions, OR I will find and make love, only to see him drown in an icy cold ocean...or, you know, some equivalent.

Hmm. So, I'm not liking either interpretation.  Maybe I'll just chalk it all up to fate needing a good laugh at my expense.  Fabulous.  Hope it was a hearty, side-splitting laugh...heartless karma bitch.

Monday, July 19, 2010

The Blog Blonde Returns

So, okay, I'm feeling stupid. When I get a follower on my blog, I like to then add them to my favorite blog list-thing. Um, I can't figure out how to do that for some followers. *hides while you laugh* 

When I click on their name to add them, a box pops up and shows me only the blogs they are following, but I cannot click on their name or see their blog. Is this making any sense??? I feel like I'm talking in a different language...I'm not exactly blog savvy. Can ya tell?

I just feel bad--I don't want anyone to think I'm not trying to visit their blogs...I'm just a total blog blonde and can't figure it out.  Any tips? 

Makeup Magic Monday #2: Bare Minerals

If you are like me, you want a makeup that will:

1. Cover, but isn't a mask; look natural
2. Doesn't clog pores and cause breakouts
3. Go on evenly
4. Go on quickly
5. Last a long time
6. For the fair skin folks: match our skin tone.
7. Have a natural SPF

Well, call me crazy, but after years of trying everything under the sun, moon, and stars (liquids, powder combos, cream foundations, drugstore brands to top brands), I have finally found the perfect makeup...and it's a mineral powder. Never in a zillion years did I think I would love a foundation so much. It goes on quickly and evenly (under 5 minutes for the whole face), doesn't clog pores (in fact, it's all natural, no chemicals, dyes, etc.), and their lightest shade works well with my porcelain skin. All in all, I'm in love...and have been for over five years now. Bare Minerals Makeup $25.

TIP: Practice! You will need time to get it down pat, particularly if you are switching from a liquid or cream foundation. The first time I put it on, I looked ridiculous--seriously, I used too much.  After a short time, you figure out how much you need (which likely isn't too much). 

You can use any BM brush--I'm still using the first brush I ever ordered: The Full Coverage Brush. I like how you can control the coverage. 

Though it might not be to everyone's liking, with a natural SPF 15 and great value starter sets (makeup, setting powder, cheek color, brushes, etc. all in one), maybe it's worth a try. Available at Sephora, QVC.

Cold Shower Sunday

Firstly, no, I don't mean that kind of cold shower. No, I'm talking about the kind that happens when your practically brand new hot water heater stops working.

While doing the dishes last night, I noticed the "hot" water wasn't so hot...and it was quickly getting colder. Trundling down to the basement, I ran through all the basic checks: timer, breakers, any leaks. All looked fine...or so I thought.

Believing I had at least 30 minutes of hot water remaining, I hopped in the shower. Very.  Big.  Mistake.  The water was ice cold. Have you ever tried shaving in ice cold water? I don't recommend it.

Sore, shivering, and rather grumpy, I had unwittingly just put to test the age old philosophy of whether or not a cold shower helps to quiet one's raging hormones. Quiet my bloody well annihilates them.  I suppose that means a cold shower really does work...and it is one method I will never try again. 

UPDATE: Turns out two heater elements burned out...AT THE SAME TIME.  The very nice plumber-repair-man said, and I quote, "I don't think I've ever seen this before." Fabulous.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Friday's Celebrity Frisky Virgin: Selena Gomez

Disney cutie-pie Selena Gomez, 17 (soon to be 18), has publicly stated that she intends to be a virgin on her wedding night. Way to go, sweetie!  I hope, one day, Selena finds a Disney fairy tale love...and they live happily ever after. :)

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Stereotype #2: Virgins are Judgmental

Ah, yes, the judgmental virgin. I can't tell you how often I have heard this during my undercover virgin investigations.  I find the judgmental stereotype is more prevalent among women than men...and it is one of the most hurtful.

So how are virgins judgmental? According to what I have heard, virgins look down upon those who have sex; they allegedly "shame" sexually active women.  When a friend of mine said precisely this, I asked her if I have ever judged her or shamed her in any way.  She said, "of course not, but then you're not...are you?"  When I revealed that I am, indeed, a virgin, she was stunned. She said, "'re, like, cool. You don't make me feel bad about myself."

Plain and simple:  My choice is not for everyone; it is not perfect; it is not without disappointment.  I would never dare judge someone for their choices simply because they are different from my own.  Everyone chooses their own path.

My choice to stay a virgin until love finds me is simply an option, nothing more, nothing less.  It's an option that is barely discussed anymore today.  There are so many young girls going through high school hell, struggling with when and if to have sex.  My hope with this blog is to enlighten people on who virgins truly are, what living this choice is all about, and maybe even reversing some of the stereotypes.

So, I suppose it comes down to this: I have spent my life being judged for my choice. Why on earth would I judge anyone else for theirs?

Stereotype #2: SLAYED (I hope).

I Don't Get It #2: Kate Gosselin, Dale Jr, Montana Sex Ed Proposal

Kate Gosselin at a Lady Gaga concert.  I don't get it.

Dale Earnhardt, Jr: When he doesn't win, people get all over him for a lack of talent, desire, dedication, etc., which is ridiculous and very sad. When he does win--as he did July 4th weekend at Daytona in the Nationwide Series--people claim the race was rigged just because he was driving his daddy's #3. Seriously? The poor man must throw his hands up in the air on a daily basis. I just don't get it.

Montana: Helena Public School System has proposed a controversial Sex Ed program that would supposedly begin such teachings in kindergarten!!!!!!! Apparently, they would teach first graders about same-sex relationships.  By the time children reach age 10, they are taught about all of the various types of intercourse.  Fifth graders, according to the proposal, should "understand that sexual intercourse includes, but is not limited to, vaginal, oral, or anal penetration.” First, aren't they way too young to even think about sex? Second, shouldn't these types of teachings be up to the child's parents?

My question: What in God's name has happened to our society?  How very, very sad. Kids should enjoy being kids while they can.  I just don't get it AT ALL. 

What do you think?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Why Wednesday #2: Why Couldn't You Find One Man By Age 32?

This question comes in various forms: "You mean, you couldn't just do it with one guy?" "There wasn't one man you could see yourself with?" "Not a single man could have been the one?"

Well, seeing as I'm only going to make love when it is LOVE, my choices have been slim; I haven't met many men who actually wanted love.  However, there have been a few who either wanted love, but were gay or bisexual, or wanted love a little too much (i.e. the unhealthy kind).  Then, there are those that are just plain full of themselves, needed to marry within a specific religion, and/or had terrible traits.

*For the record, yes, there was, at one time, one man I thought might possibly be the one, but we'll save that one for another day.*

The following is a list of "candidates" (minus the two blind dates):

2 Gay Men (loved them dearly, but I think certain areas may have been problematic)
1 Bisexual Man (gave me one of the sweetest notes I've ever received)
1 Possible Bisexual Man (I really need a man who is SURE of what he wants, ya know?)
1 Angry-Obsessive Pursuer
1 Spooky-Obsessive Pursuer
1 Xanadu-Hair Guy
1 Sex Addict Adam
1 Mormon Man
1 Cologne Butt Guy (we believe he purposely sprays his derriere with cologne)
1 Monotone Mike
1 Robot Rob
1 Pissed Off Pete
1 Temper Tantrum Tom
1 Bicker Dicker (though I love to playfully spar back and forth, this is ALL he wanted to do)
And a partridge in a pear tree.

I may have forgotten one or two, but I think you get the idea.  As far as I'm concerned, the heart is the most valuable possession any human being can give to another, and I don't take giving my heart away lightly.  I'm just not thinking I want to give my heart to someone who is angry all the time, someone who sprays his a** with cologne just to bend over so every woman in the room can get a whiff, or someone who, I'm sorry to say, resides in Xanadu.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

True Blood Tuesday #2

Whoop Whoop! *sorry, couldn't resist* After a one week hiatus, we had a new episode of True Blood!

Here are some things that stood out to me:

Lorena: Seriously, I didn't think I could despise the she-thing more than I already do, but this episode just strengthened my dislike for her. When she told Bill that the love they made had "passion," I thought I was going to throw-up. It was hate, you daft bimbo! She continued to prod Bill, saying how happy she is now and he will love her again one day...blah blah blah. After more of Lorena's leech-like behavior, he punched her...and she continued to smile, happily. Sick.

Tara: This poor girl! Last season, she's sucked into Maryann's dark world, falling in love with Eggs, being possessed by Maryann, and finding her beloved Eggs dead. Now, she's having blood sucked from her against her will by a deranged vampire dude. Oh, and he has tied her up, kidnapped her, and, next week, will apparently force her to be his vampire bride. This poor girl can't catch a break.

Eric: Is there anybody who didn't like the fact that Mr. I-don't-know-love is daydreaming about Miss Sookie? Sounds like the mighty blond vampire is falling for the oh-so-darling Sookie. Can't wait to see this evolve.

Monday, July 12, 2010

Makeup Magic Monday #1

For anyone with fair skin, you know the importance of blush. Fair folks, in an effort to differentiate themselves from the undead, need a high quality blush that will add a natural, long-lasting pink. I have several loves: Nars' Orgasm and Benefit's Dandelion. However, at $26 and $28 respectively, I wanted to find something a little less bank-busting...and with a little more color-pow. Enter Urban Decay's After Glow in Quickie.

Aside from the clever name, at $17 a pop, Urban Decay's Quickie delivers. When I first opened the package, I thought the quantity looked awfully small, especially compared to Benefit's Dandelion. Then I popped open the smallish compact and gasped: The pink looks...florescent! Alarmed, I grabbed my blush brush and went to town, worried I was about to look like a pink florescent stop sign. Alas! The color is gorgeous!

WARNING: Extremely rich color—you DO NOT need much. If you are not careful, you will look like you had ten quickies in ten minutes.

For Sensitive Skin types: I've been wearing it about two weeks now and I haven't had a single breakout. Yay! 

If you are in the market for a new blush, Urban Decay's Quicke just might be your soon-to-be best kept secret.  Available at Sephora.

The Mean Magnifier

Being single has its perks, but it also has some pretty illuminating drawbacks. I say illuminating for one simple reason: said drawbacks quite literally force you to look at your choices through a magnifier...and the result isn't always very pretty. It's kind-of like looking at your pores through a magnifying mirror: somewhat interesting, always horrifying.

Most days, the mean magnifier is an older, self-important, know-it-all woman, who is in a relationship or married.

“So, are you seeing anyone special?” asked Mean Magnifier in an unusually high-pitched voice.

“No, still just me,” I said airily.

Ugh. There it is...the thing all singles hate...the dreaded oh-you-poor-thing head tilt. I must say, the tilt seems to be a bit more extreme when you are a single virgin in her early 30s.

“Well, he's out there somewhere, sweetie. I'm sure he is...probably...maybe,” she said, far too happily.

“Here's hoping,” I said, surveying the area for a quick exit.

Placing her tan hand on my shoulder, while attempting to look sincere, Mean Magnifier whispered, “At least you have plenty of time. You are still so young. Although, it does go by in a flash. I promise you, one day you will know what it's like to be wrapped up in a man's loving arms and wake up the way you went to sleep with him. You'll know one day...even if it takes ten or fifteen more years.”

Biting my tongue, while trying to keep angry--and, admittedly, hurt--tears from stinging my eyes, I said, “Sooner than ten or fifteen years, I hope!”

“Well, reality is reality,” said Mean Magnifier, tossing her head back, laughing.

“Suppose it is,” I whispered. “Well, I should get going...”

Ah, the exaggerated head tilt returns. “You poor thing, you must be really sad most of the time—being alone, single, never having had that feeling of being with a man physically, knowing you are getting older by the second. You just must feel so depressed.”

Well, not until you spelled it out, Mean Magnifier witch.

“Oh, I get by just fine, I promise.” With that, I went through with the goodbye pleasantries and swiftly exited, feeling less than great.

Truth be told, I do get a little lonely sometimes, maybe even sad. But, I like to think that sadness is reserved for those things in life we've had and lost. Moping around, all sad and depressed about something I've never had just doesn't seem right. Nobody ever has everything they want in life; it would feel like a waste of precious time feeling sad about something that never even existed in my life in the first place.

So, I chin-up and move forward with eternal hope pulling me along.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

Blind Dates Blow

Everyone remembers their first blind date. Some learn from the first and vow to never again enter the hell that is the blind date. Others, simply file the first experience in a dark, cobweb-covered corner of the mind and slyly deny having ever been forced to partake in such demeaning tactics, since they are far too fortunate to ever need setting up by a friend. Then there are those who went through the hell, but need occasional reminding.

Usually crafted by a scheming friend determined to take responsibility for your pathetic love life, the dreaded two words enter your otherwise peaceful, albeit *somewhat* pathetic existence: Blind Date. The chunks rise up in your throat, sweat drips down the base of your neck, as your friend animatedly carries on and on, making the whole ordeal impossible to refuse. You try to say no, but an unfamiliar, almost gargled, "N-n-okay," escapes your lips. Idiot.

My first blind date was with a mute...or at least that's what I thought. He. Never. Talked. I found myself babbling about everything and nothing just to keep the deafening sound of crickets out of my head. About the only sound he made was when he reached the end of his drink and began slurping it through the straw. Ah, five minutes of not having to talk...I could just listen to the caressing sounds of slurping. I was about to call my friend and ask her why she would set me up with someone who didn't speak, when an older, handsome stranger asked for my number.

Hmm. He is a stranger, but he is: Man--check. Handsome--check. Talking--double check.

Suddenly, I heard a deep sigh from behind me.

"I guess I'm not lucky in love."

Shocked, I turned to find my silent movie date moving his lips and hanging his head. So, he's just shy! I politely refused the handsome-talking-stranger-man, and returned to my date...where he didn't talk the rest of the night.

After that one, how could I even think about entertaining the idea of another blind date? Oh, but I did. This time around, he knew how to talk...a lot...non-stop, in fact. My voice was never heard. Oh, and I have a wealth of information I will never need, including, but not limited to: all of his ex's bra sizes and hair colors; the size of his dog's genitals; the difference between Crest and Colgate toothpaste; and how much better he has it than someone named Frank. I must have looked like a bobble-head doll.

With a slight case of vertigo, I exited blind date hell, never to return again. I did, however, return with a valuable piece of advice. Should you ever succumb to the curse of the blind date, be sure to ask your friend: a. If the man can talk, and b. If the man can shut up.

UPDATE: Since I wrote this quite late/early, I figured I needed to add a few thoughts:

1. Silent man was a very shy guy. Turns out, he was seriously introverted.
2. Not-so-silent man loved himself a bit too much. Oh, and he carried a mirror in his pocket, so he could check the status of his hair.

Friday, July 9, 2010

Friday's Celebrity Frisky Virgin: Carrie Underwood (rumored)

Every Friday, I thought it might be nice to highlight a celebrity virgin. Each celebrity virgin will have a status: rumored or confirmed by the media.

Whether she is a virgin or not, there is no denying Carrie Underwood is truly a classy girl. Much has been rumored about whether or not she is a virgin, but, to my knowledge, she has never confirmed or denied the rumors. After this weekend, I think it's safe to say the discussion will be moot, as Carrie, 27, will marry Ottawa Senators hockey player, Mike Fisher, 30. The beautiful couple will start a new journey together and I wish them everything magical this world has to offer.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Stereotype #1: Virgins Are Prudes

One of the benefits of being an undercover virgin in daily life is the ability to ask opinions on virgins, especially those of men. If men knew I was a virgin, then I'd get the canned response: “That's cool and I really respect you.” Translation: “That's cool and I really respect you...but I'm running the other way as fast as my three legs will take me, preferably toward the drunk blonde with ginormous boobs in the corner of the bar.” Yes, this is based in reality, folks. The other canned response? “You are the marrying kind.” Translation: “You are the marrying kind, but I'm nowhere near ready for the marrying kind...and I need to hookup tonight.” UGH. If I have to hear that ONE MORE TIME... I suppose it's a compliment, but, dang, I'll be in my friggin' 60s before men my age will be ready to come looking for “the marrying kind.” Ridiculous.

Now, time to slay the first stereotype: Virgins are prudes. This is probably one of the most common stereotypes I've heard from people, especially men. The most common definition of prude, according to the free online dictionary, is: “a person who has an excessively modest, prim, and proper attitude, especially regarding sex.”

When I have asked men for their definition of “prude,” they always say the same thing: “A girl who is really shy about anything regarding sex, whether it's joking about it or whatever. They don't even like heavy kissing and get all upset if you make sex jokes or compliment them on their assets. Basically, you can't even imply sex around them.”

Well, I'm here to say that this is unequivocally FALSE!!!!

I am a modest person, but I am NOT, repeat, NOT prude. I don't get my feathers ruffled when I hear a sexual joke; I usually laugh (if I get it—sometimes it flies right by me, which usually brings one heck of a laugh)...and, yes, I might blush...but I certainly don't get offended. If I get a compliment on any of my assets—or, heaven help me, a whistle—trust me, I'm a happy girl. And where on earth did men get the impression that virgins don't want to kiss? That has to be the most ridiculous thing I've heard...well, actually, it's not, but it's definitely high on the list of stupid assumptions.

Oh, and for the record, if a man could take a little journey through the mind of a virgin, I dare say he would never be the same. ;)

Stereotype #1—SLAYED.

I Don't Get It #1: LeBron James, Kate Gosselin, & The Lohan Clan

One of my favorite actors is Tom Hanks. One of my favorites films is Big. One of my favorites quotes from that film is the "I don't get it" line; it happens in the marketing meeting scene with the building that turns into a robot ("What's fun about a building that turns into a robot?"). On a daily basis, I find myself shaking my head and saying, "I don't get it." So, how about an I Don't Get It feature--surely there are others out there who just don't get a lot of what they see and/or hear.

Today, I'm shaking my head at LeBron James, Kate Gosselin, and The Lohan Clan.

LeBron James: Tonight, during a one hour special, live on ESPN, LeBron will announce which NBA team he intends to play for next season. He's a tremendous athlete, don't get me wrong, but...well...he isn't the first great player to switch teams, and I dare say he won't be the last. So, why all the hoopla? I've been sitting on pins and needles about whether or not the supremely talented Dirk Nowitzki would re-sign with my Dallas Mavericks. He did resign...quietly. When Dale Earnhardt Jr. left DEI (Dale Earnhardt, Inc.) to join Hendrick Motorsports, he held a news conference. However, it was during the day and, after all, he was leaving his late father's organization--don't you think that warrants a news conference? I do. Tonight, LeBron will likely either stay in Cleveland or join the Miami Heat. I wish him luck--he's a terrific player and I enjoy watching him. But, all the hoopla? Aside from the payday possibly making NBA history, I don't get it.

Kate Gosselin: While watching a program on TLC, I saw an ad for an upcoming episode of Kate Plus 8. During the ad, the 8 are barely shown. Instead, you see Kate trying her hand at power-washing the house and hanging what I believe is a window screen, while traipsing across the roof (or the lower level roof area) in a miniskirt, yelping and moaning. Aside from the whole wearing-a-miniskirt-while-engaging-in-manual-labor thing, it dawned on me that this was a subtle marketing ploy for her upcoming Fall show, wherein she will try her hand at "everyday" jobs. From the miniskirt to the embedded marketing ploy--I don't get it.

The Lohan Clan: Today, Lindsay Lohan's father, Michael Lohan, was on Studio B with Shepard Smith...he also filmed a segment with Larry King Live. Apparently, he's extremely worried about the welfare of his, he's giving interviews. Shepard put the heat on Michael Lohan, questioning his motives, and Michael snapped, even letting the F-word slip on live TV. He says he's hoping to save his daughter and, in some way, help save other young lives in trouble. He claims he's been trying to help her for years. Of course, hasn't he tried to get a reality show in the past? And was he not photographed hanging out with John Gosselin in the Hamptons a while back? Maybe he is sincere, and I truly hope he is--I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt, but when I look at the big picture...I just don't get it.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Why Wednesday #1

I thought it might be fun to have a Why Wednesday, where I'll answer the endless "why" questions about, well, why I am still a virgin. Granted, I don't have all the answers...if I did, I would have the man by now and he would be gasping for breath and this blog wouldn't exist.

So, let's start with the most basic Why Wednesday Question: Why do you call yourself The Frisky Virgin?

Answer: Because, if I'm not frisky by now, then there would be a serious problem. Plus, The Bubbly Virgin is too icky-sweet; The Happy Virgin is a joke (despite being a generally happy person, I'm pretty sure in order to claim "happy," I would have to overcome the urge to pull out my hair from sexual frustration); The Satisfied Virgin--I mean, who are we kidding. The only logical description for this virgin is frisky. Grr.

I'm a Blog Blonde

Yeah, so, with only a few days of blogging experience, I've come to discover that I am a total blog blonde. I don't have a clue what I'm doing.

Here I was so proud when I figured out how to change the background colors. Idiot. Now, I flip through all these blogs and they are so incredible!! They have pictures, designs, cool fonts, etc. I come back to my little blog and see....blah. The worst part? I have NO idea where to begin to make it look, you know, better. I look through all the dashboard, design tabs and it's like I'm reading a foreign language. Ugh.

I'm a blog blonde. Hmm. Wonder if gentlemen prefer blog blondes? One can only hope.

P.S. I can't get the preview to work...seriously, who can't click a button and get a preview to work? I'm such an idiot.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Harry Potter or Twilight?

With every new film release in these wildly popular franchises, the big debate always fires up: Which is the better series, Harry Potter or Twilight?

I'm not even sure if it's a fair debate, but let's do it anyway just for the heck of it...and I'm bored.

I'm a Harry Potter girl myself, but I do like Twilight as well. I guess the Twilight films can feel one-dimensional. My favorite part of the story was the interaction with the Volturi at the end of New Moon. Seeing other aspects of the vampire world is interesting.

Harry's world, on the other hand, is so expansive--you see every nook of the wizarding world; you feel like you've been on a journey.

If there is anybody out there who comes across this lonely little blog, I'd love to hear your opinion because right now, I'm only hearing crickets...and one annoying fly.

True Blood Tuesday

How much did everyone miss having a new episode of True Blood this weekend? I know I did. I even checked HBO On Demand a few times, hoping the new episode would accidentally show up.

So, in the meantime, I got to thinking about Sookie's life. She has a shifter who loves her, a vampire who loves her, another vampire who is falling in love with her, and a hot werewolf bodyguard. Yeah, her life really sucks...the bitch. You know, aside from the fangs, fur, and claws, it must be pretty nice to be Sookie.

On a side note: Is Lorena the neediest vampire or is it just me? I mean, Bill doesn't want her, will never want her, and still she resorts to extreme measures to try and force the issue. She's like that piece of gum you just can't get off the bottom of your shoe. The whole exorcist move Bill put on Lorena at the end of the last episode was...interesting...and very clearly telling her he can't stand the sight of her, yet she still says how much she loves him. Ugh! Lorena! Get a life! Or, you know, an un-life.

Monday, July 5, 2010

The Day After

Did I really just publicly declare my virginity? That was my first thought when the unusually bright sun cruelly burst through my windows at an ungodly hour this morning. Have I lost my mind entirely? That was my second thought. I need to shop. That was my third thought...rather liked the third thought.

I've been fighting nerves on and off all day, while annoying questions flooded my mind. Questions like: Did I make the right decision? Can I follow through with this, regardless of what people say?

If I don't carry on, I can't possibly go shopping; shopping in my world means rewarding myself for some sort of achievement, no matter how small, so long as it's something of significance.

So, I have a choice: back out now or continue on this journey, defeat fear, find love, and, um, shop.

Think I'll go with option two...for the shopping, if for nothing else. Just kidding, I won't back out now, despite my nerves, but I'm still going shopping. Handbag or a new pair of jeans? One can never have too much of either, particularly when they are on sale.

Oh, and watching human-rum-for-the-nerves Johnny Depp all day certainly helps. Hot pirate, that one.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

My Independence Day

July 4th, 2010: The day we celebrate our freedom and the immeasurable bravery of our military men and women—both past and present—who make our freedom possible. I'm watching Toby Keith sing An American Soldier, while our military men and women passionately sing right along with him, and I think, what am I doing? Hiding because I've made a choice that isn't exactly mainstream? Afraid of what people will say? What they will call me? What they will think of me? Well, what an incredible wimp! No more.

On this July 4th, I declare my freedom to be *gulp* a 32-year-old virgin. <pause for horrified gasp> Yes, I am a 32-year-old virgin. Hmm. It sounds less shocking in my head than when it's glaring back at me on the computer screen. Ah, well, it is what it is, right?

Way back in high school—where I heard one horror story after another—I made the decision to wait for love. Though I'm a strong believer in God, religion wasn't the primary influence on my decision, nor was I pressured by my family to remain virtuous. In fact, my parents are very chill, laid-back southerners. No, I made this decision all on my own. Never in a million years did I think it would take THIS long to find love! Heck, I've never even had faux love. Nothing. Each time there might have been a pretty promising candidate, something I can only describe as cosmic/otherworldly interruptions came shooting in like lightening on a storm-free day. More on that in future posts.

Call me weird, if you like. It's okay, really. People should dare to be weird. If it's weird to want to wait for love, then so be it. Honestly, I just want one man I can wear out for the rest of his life.
It's time to stop hiding, embrace who I am, and start having some fun with this, so I've come up with a little tiered task.
Threefold Task:
  1. Fear conqueror: Each week, I will take on a fear or phobia, no matter how small or stupid.
  2. Stereotype Slayer: Yeah, it's time to break down the whole virgin stigma (wallflower, nerd, boring, dull). No wallflowers here, not even close, and I'm proud to say I've never been called nerdy, boring, or dull. And no, I don't wear high collars or long skirts, and I don't have hair down to my bum (I've heard these comments made about virgins in general. Not that there's a thing wrong with those fashion tastes...they just aren't mine).
  3. Personal Quest, October 2012: I'm not a believer in firmly saying I will absolutely find love and make love by a certain date or age. That's not how love works. The minute I say, “oh, here's my deadline for love,” is the minute I screw any hope for fate to work its magic. Having said that, I figure a “target” date isn't necessarily a bad thing. And what better date than two months before the end of the world? I mean, if the supposed cataclysmic events take place on December 21, 2012, then I have a two month buffer to make up for lost time.
There we have it—conquer fear, slay stereotypes, and find me some love, among other things. Shouldn't be too tough...despite the fact that it's taken this long. I refuse to see that as discouraging. I like to think fate is behind everything.
Think I've achieved facing this week's fear: I've come out as a virgin. Hmm. If gay people come out of the closet, and vampires come out of the coffin (as they say on True Blood), what do virgins come out of? Underwear? Makes sense. I guess I've just come out of my underwear as a virgin. Fabulous. This is gonna be fun...I hope.