Son Diaaago Round Deux

After reading through some of these older entries, I think it's time for an update. Over the weekend I visited Sonnnn Diaaaaaago again (AKA the Whale's Vag.), accompanying my roommate on her annual bangbang trip. Yes, bangbang, you heard correctly.

I can't remember if I've already explained the bangbang trip scenario and I'm too lazy to go back and read what I've written, so here goes. The bangbang trip is a trip of a specified distance, taken purely for a hook-up. I've now accompanied my roommate on two of these trips. It used to be a hardcore source of making fun of her, but the tides have changed a bit this weekend.

Long story short, (even though this probably won't be short), I'm slowly but surely accomplishing what this blog strives for - being slutty. So, on the drive down to Son Diago, I decided to call the guy from this post, we'll call him Conrad; yes, the one I talk about as my "crush for the night." Anyway, he tells me he has to work, but ends up driving down later in the day. Just to catch you up, Conrad is best friends with my roommates bangbang, and we've slept in the same bed together twice so far, both times nothing really happened.

So, here's what happened over the weekend. I had been trying to meet up with him a few times, as he lives RIGHT near my mom in OC. Of course I would rather hang with him than a full 48-hour weekend with my psycho!-therapist mom. Unfortunately, this never ended up happening, mostly because you can't plan meetups on Facebook, you need phone numbers. Anyway, this created quite a bit of buildup, which is something, as an Aries, I can't resist. So, when he arrived in SD, I was pretty much ready to roll. And when I say roll, I mean literally roll on the ground because I was WAY TOO DRUNK. Don't get me wrong, I remember (almost) everything, and I didn't do anything I didn't want to, but I kind of wish I could remember a bit more.

We started at this crazy pub crawl, and eventually ended up at my favorite bar in the area. I remember just over zero of our conversation, meaning I'm sure I was like BLAHBLAHblahwhocareswhatI'mtalkingabout. Fast-forward to our friends house, the one we're staying at. So basically my roommate went to the bangbang room with her dude, leaving me and Conrad...and our friend - not an ideal living room situation. Our friend falls asleep super fast, and literally would sleep through WWII. Adding to that, he's hardcore snoring. This would be annoying under normal circumstances, but instead, it was a nice way to assure that he was sleeping. We were on this foldout couch mattress situation with a sleeping bag and blankets, probably a pretty gross scene. I'm not going to go into detail, but music was on and things were happening. All of a sudden I realized that one roommate was not home yet, and that he would probably get home at an inopportune time. I said this to Conrad, and he literally opened the door 30 seconds later. I'm sure shit was pretty obvious, but we did not move until he was in his room, door closed. STRUGGLES. Long story short, we had a living room smush situation (sorry, I've been watching WAYYY too much Jersey Shore!).

So all in all, I am slowly but surely making this blog a reality. My definition of "slutty" is expanding, as well as my lifestyle.

XO, thanks for reading!

Sexting

It's no secret that I think the idea of sexting is pretty cool. I've been joking about it forever, which is code for "I wish I was sexting." Of course I don't currently have a sexting friend, but the topic has become a constant source of conversational entertainment for my friends throughout the last month.

I think the fact that I don't have a sexting friend is reflective of a bigger issue; I don't have a local hookup. I'm really great at meaningless encounters with friend's of friends, but I suck at meeting people myself. There are several problems with friends of friends, all of which I am aware of, yet I make decisions accordingly.

1. You will probably see them again. This highlights all elements of weirdness that happened during the hookup. Maybe you don't remember a series of events or something didn't happen quite the way you had imagined; either way, there's a big fat, partially to fully nude elephant in the room. Let's be real: Unless you're this uber-cool superhuman who doesn't get weirded-out by anything, it will probably be weird EVEN if all went well. TRUST.

2. You will probably drink with them again. It's not like your hardcore-party-all-the-time-both-weekend-days lifestyle is going to come to an end anytime soon. Then what? Don't expect anything to repeat besides the circumstances in which you met the first time. And don't act all crazy when they meet someone else. You're not dating, duh.

3. Your friends will think you're slutty. Let's not get confused here; it's cool to be slutty, but not cool to be known for being promiscuous among your friends - BIG DIFFERENCE.

Anyway, back to sexting. My next hookup will definitely be for the purpose of sexting at a later date. Even if I think it's an awkward topic to bring up at an opportune moment, it'll probably happen because it's a subconscious goal. It's also awkward to ask people if they're "clean," but you just have to go there.

I'll keep you posted on progress here, but don't hold your breath.

Dancefloorsex

happensinVEGAS

pretty cool.

The Whale's Vagina

So a few weeks ago I took a trip to the whale's vagina, which believe it or not, is a name for San Diego that I didn't come up with. It also seems to accurately describe the kind of experience I have when I go. I hit the road on Saturday with a couple of my guy friends fairly early. We decided NOT to drink immediately when we got there, A. because it was noon and B. (most notably) we were already hungover from the night before. Maybe if we had grabbed a few road sodas the idea would have sounded better, but I'm only a fan of talking about drinking and driving, not drinking and driving. Although drinking and re-parking one block away is a different story, and, it should be noted that this happened on my last trip to San Diego. That "I'm only gonna break-break your break-break your heart" song was on, so I felt inspired. Anyway, we get there and decide to grab some burritos. Soon enough, we find out that it's our buddy's birthday; the friend we came to visit and stay with.

Post burrito, we decide it only make sense to pick up a 30 pack and 18 pack of brews on the way home. It was about 1:30PM at this point, so fair game. When we get back to the house, 3 more friends have arrived from Orange County & Pasadena, and we've officially shifted into reunion mode. One guy brought over a strange brandy that somehow tasted okay without being refrigerated.

Fast-forward a couple hours and almost 40 beers later, we end up at a happy hour with $5 pitchers! This is unheard of where I come from, and we had to celebrate. The last time I was in San Diego, my friend lived in the terribly bruh Pacific Beach AKA PB. He now lives in hippytown Ocean Beach, AKA OB. Let me give you 3 reasons why OB is rad:

1. Nobody follows seemingly obvious laws. Parking is unrestricted. That handicapped spot is closer to your house than the other FULLY open block next to it, go for it!

2. Everything is done in cash. This kind of sucks actually, but is easily over-shadowed by the fact that everything is cheap as shit. Top shelf mixed drinks were $3.50 at one bar. I felt like I was back in Africa.

3. WAY less bruhs. I was expecting that SDSU scene and pleasantly surprised to hang with a bunch of high-functioning stoners

It should be noted that one of the people I stayed with has taken up a very serious career. The apartment is dedicated to the growth and continuing knowledge of mushrooms. Not just psychedelic mushrooms either, he doesn't discriminate. Want more information? Grab one of the 6 books in the living room or open the fridge and observe at least 20 bottles of growing mushrooms.

Anyway, back to the story. We end up in this one bar that closely resembles an aquarium. This undersea bliss provided the cheapest drinks I've had in Amurrca. Since drinks were cheap, we bought a ton.

The next bar featured an Irish band playing Flogging Molly-type stuff. I don't remember the name of it, as I was in brown out stages by then, but they were AWESOME. I have some dark spots after they stopped playing, but I do remember meeting up with my cousin. She made the mistake of sober-living that weekend to comply with a diet, and instead, bought me at least 3 drinks that I did not need.

(PAUSE) This is getting a little longer than I planned, and I realize it seems like it may lead to something exciting, but don't get your hopes up. It doesn't.

My crush for the night couldn't hang and went home to lay down at around 12 or so. I say "couldn't hang" because he only did 10 hours of straight boozing, while the rest of us did 11 or 12. One of my friends was so blacked out he decided to make racist/out of context Southpark references, but I'm not even going to get into that. As everyone's going to bed, I combine two sleeping bags to make a little bed surrounded by the 6 other people sleeping in the living room. As much as I want to be slutty, I am NOT down for the group scene. I said crush earlier because I actually have a crush on him, so I was even less inclined to act retarded. We've had a sleepover before, but it was pretty uneventful. Besides that, we could hear super loud strange sex in the room about 2 feet from our heads. We just laughed and somewhat fell asleep.

Thinking back to the last time I saw crush/essentially the first time I met him: I just remembered that he left his belt in my room. Of course I'm dumb and I don't usually think like a super-insecure girl, but I later realized that I could have used the belt as desperation bait! Instead, I brought it back to him at my neighbors house right before he was about to head home. This was even more fail because I had just accidentally informed my neighbors of where he slept.

Anyway, the moral of this story is, if I would have had the slut mindset, I would have hung onto the belt. Just kidding, I hope that's not the moral. The moral is that OB is fucking RAD!

The Quest for Birthday Sex

I have a feeling this is going to turn into a confessions blog. I have one upcoming guest confession, and I think we're ready to hop on that train, but first, I'm gonna tell you about my weekend.

This weekend was a good friend's birthday, and his best buddy was in town for the weekend from out of state. As of lately, I've really been focusing on trying to be slutty. I had been hanging out with the boys all weekend, as per usual. We played some beach volleyball, drank some beers, talked about who we would want to have sex with in politics, you know. Funny enough, the popular answer for them was B(h)illary Clinton. I was impressed with this, and it was also refreshing to hear that guys would sleep with anything for power, or better yet, a good story. In fact, they took the "good story" reasoning to a new level, bringing Tipper Gore and Condi Rice into the equation. The convo went a step further when one of the boys started talking about one of MY past hookups (who's also a good friend of theirs). Sometimes, I think that they either forget I'm female or they just don't care. As it turns out, he once slept with a midget for the story. Now while I would like to think that this is awesome, it still turned my stomach a bit. We didn't have sex (evidence of a failed attempt at being slutty), but I still didn't really want to hear about midget sex.

Anyway, later in the night on Saturday (day two of shitfaced weekend birthday bash), after a good number of cocktails, I was discussing promiscuity with the birthday boy. He's unique in the sense that he's a guy and he has no real interest in sleeping with random girls. I find this really interesting, and that night we discussed how we both wished we were just a bit sluttier. We essentially agreed that while it would be fun, neither of us could really do it. Probably less than ten minutes later, I approached his best friend (the one from outta town) at the bar and started chatting. I'm really not a naturally flirty person, so I really have to try unless I'm totally plastered. I'm not sure why I decided to do it right after that convo, since we had been hanging out since like 11 am drinking, but I did. Anyway, we chatted for a while in that bar and then eventually went to a new one, after witnessing the tail-end of a stabbing in front of one bar. I'm getting better at eye contact, but it can be intense. Long story (not so) short, he hinted a few times at the fact that he was not excited about sleeping on the floor, and I pretty much shut him down. I totally cannot deal with these direct comments, obviously, so I failed. At the time, I thought that it would be too weird to hook up with this neighbor's best bud (especially after the promiscuity convo earlier) and also that if I did in fact have another little sleepover, I would have then hooked up with BOTH neighbor's best friends. Now I don't know what y'all think, but this seemed pretty slutty to me. Especially since both of them will be with us in Vegas on New Year's. Maybe I can get them a lil' rrrruunnnnkkkk and have a threesome. Ha, can you imagine how epic of a story that would be for this bloggedy!?

Things I've learned this weekend:

1. You can hypnotize people with eye contact, and get whatever you want.
2. When you hang out with just boys, you automatically win. You just have to claim your prize.
3. My favorite signal is touching. Even something as easy as touching my arm, when done correctly, kinda seals the deal for me.

I think it's time to set some goals:
I have one weekend left for birthday sex. Next weekend is my other neighbor's birthday, and I think we're doing a lil' tailgate party in Pasadena. My sleepover friend is probs gonna be there, (yes, the midget sex one, but I'm just gonna ignore that) so it's officially on.

I see a couple potential issues with this.
1. Mutual grounds: I have a really hard time even making out with someone in public, like outside of a bar or anything, so not having my own house/room could potentially be an issue.
2. Alcohol consumption: While I don't doubt that we will be drinking, someone has to drive home eventually. I might be able to get out of this one, but not without some dramz. Point being, I'm gonna need to be pretty rruuunnkk.

I will keep y'all posted...

On that note, I leave you with a recent post on Texts From Last Night:
(404): I don't even remember his name...I'm just gonna save it as birthday sex

Plan B

So Plan B typically refers to the morning after pill. I'm going to devise a Plan A.

I think getting on birth control is the first step to being slutty. Granted, you could be slutty without being on bc, but that would have to end when you got preggers or died of AIDs. I want to be inspired. If pregnancy (my biggest fear) can be mostly prevented, I think this will help me relax and drink more, you know.

I watched some common signs of sluttiness this weekend and here are some common ideas:

1. Making out on the dancefloor: Not only do you have to be pretty intoxicated to do this, but you'd pretty much have to have no shame, since everyone can and will watch. This is all in public, so just imagine what happens next.

2. You're hanging out with some guy. You realize that he is seeing someone because he CALLS her and she shows up while you guys were hanging out. This may seem like an easily resolved situation, but it can get pretty trashy. Instead of leaving, you choose to compete with the girlfriend...guess who wins. I watched this happen a few weeks ago.

3. You flash someone for a shot. Okay, so maybe this wasn't necessarily on purpose, but that's even better.

If you would like to guest post or contribute to this blog, comment or e-mail me at wishiwasslutty@gmail.com

Unsolicited Tips For Happy Living

Secretly, and lately, not so secretly, I've been wishing I was slutty. It would be great to just go to a bar and be totally fine with going home with someone new every weekend. Scratch that, what about every night? I don't know if I am condoning this behavior, just saying it could be fun.

Here are some tips I've gathered from others on how to be slutty:

1. Be the last girl at the bar. Your looks & personality matter less and less the more you (or your potential hook-up) drink. Also, once the lights go on true personalities tend to shine, meaning people quickly realize their search for "companionship" is about to end.

2. Drink heavily. I think this pretty much goes without saying. If you have particularly high or misplaced standards, there is a slight chance that they could disappear for a night, if you "get lucky".

3. Flirt with not only your potential love interest, but all of his friends. This way the guy will notice that he needs to act soon, or if he doesn't, then you may have multiple options. Do I hear threesome?

4. Don't talk to other girls. At the end of the day, where will it get you? As they say on all good reality show competitions, "I'm not here to make friends". Guess what, they're right. If you want to make friends, go to a kickboxing class or bowling alley instead of a bar, I'm sure you'll meet some winners.

5. Keep your eyes (and hands) on the prize. If you're constantly touching someone, appropriately or innapropriately, you're constantly reminding them that you'd hit it. Gotta keep 'em in check yo.

I hope you thoroughly enjoyed these tips for happy living. Be sure to keep us posted with your success stories.