Post-MCAT Maunderings

And so she returns at long last, from the endless desert of studying for the MCAT exams. There is a heaviness in the air as our heroine pauses for a rest - is it the looming month before the scores will be released? Is it the mountain of the application process that looms before her? Is it the prospect of leaving her nice, comfortable lab to find a "real job" for the year between graduation and medical school? Or is it simply being unable to believe that the 8 months of frantic studying for the epic 5-hour exam are finally over?

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Melodramatics aside, I can finally say I've done it: I've made it through the medical rite of passage that is the MCAT exam. Not only did I survive it, I left feeling very, very confident that I had done well. I'm amazed, elated, relieved, and exhausted. I've spent the last week doing a lot of sleeping and playing video games and staring at walls. Now, it's time to start picking up the pieces of my life and putting them back together.

Because honestly, completely changing your life plans this quickly does shatter your life. My friendships need mending, because I disappeared to study for so long. My academic relationships with professors and advisors need cultivating so that I can get good letters of recommendation soon. My networking needs help, so I can find the elusive medical-field-with-just-a-BS job for my gap year. My relationship with my boyfriend is in desperate trouble - we're working on it, and he's promised not to give up on me, and I'm still madly in love with him even when he's frustrating, so there's still hope. I just have to drag myself out of bed and get back to seeing my therapist, because anxiety disorders are hell on relationships.

Also, I'm going to be getting back to writing reviews. I sincerely apologize to both my readers and the companies I work with for falling so far behind in reviews. I have a whole pile in the works, so we'll be returning to our regularly scheduled reviews, rants, and ridiculousness soon.

Spam FIlter Issues

I'd like to apologize on behalf of Blogger's spam filter to the people whose comments have been drifting in limbo. I'm trying to beat the stupid filter into submission so your wonderful, insightful comments will go back to posting automatically again. The filter seems to be snagging anything that mentions sex or anything pertaining to it... which kind of defeats the purpose of a sex and sexuality themed blog, dontcha think?

Where did the vacation go?

And here I thought that I'd have all this time to catch up on reviews over my lovely winter break. I guess I forgot that living under this roof means no locking of doors, no privacy because of freaky acoustics, no playing in the shower because of the small water heater, and no computer time because if I can't prove I'm studying for the MCAT, I get bitched at for wasting time goofing off online when I should be studying or cleaning up after my sister or, most importantly, spending time with my family!

(Oh Great and Terrible Goddess of Grammar, I do beseech thee to forgive me for creating such a hideous run-on sentence.)

I planned on testing toys at my boyfriend's house... until his family decided after 4 years of us enjoying ourselves in his attic room, that they didn't want to hear the floorboards creak anymore. Boo, hiss. (Also, they don't approve of kink, so I can't test my very first crop, or play with my scrumptious deer suede flogger)

I planned in finding time to test that nice crop... until I injured most of my upper back. (long story short, I caught someone WAY too heavy for me)

I planned on getting reacquainted with myself sexually, now that I might have a libido again... until I got hit by

epic stress + nuvaring = month-long "period"

And since then, I've been either ill, or in the hospital for a procedure (went fine, thanks), or studying my brains out for the MCAT. Free time? What's that?

Thankful

Yes, this blog post is late. It's a few days past that bizarre holiday we Americans celebrate called Thanksgiving. But you know what? The post was late in part because of some of the things I have to be thankful for.

I'm thankful that I have such a wonderfully loving family who actually want to spend so much time with me. I'm thankful that they demand I put aside the books for a day to spend time with family, cook, and enjoy epic food. (Recreating all of our recipes to fit three completely different sets of dietary restrictions, yet still be delicious, is surprisingly fun. I loved it!)

I'm thankful for my health. No, really! As shitty as my health is, I can still function. I can still go to school full time, pull in an amazing GPA, and spend endless hours in the lab. As far as my pain issues go, I'm worlds better than I was this time last year. I don't have to take prescription pain meds and muscle relaxants every night just so I can get up the next morning. I am vertical and mobile without half an hour of agonizing stretching. My lungs may be going to hell in a hand-basket, but I'm grateful for the health I do have.

I'm thankful for my best friend. This guy has stuck by me through thick and through thin. When a medication turned me into an apathetic, depressed, non-social hermit last year, he wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd show up in his crazy little pick-up and whisk me off somewhere for shenanigans - ice cream, Indian food, taking pictures of our pretty campus, watching a movie... just getting me out again. Now that most of my other friends have either graduated or moved away, he's pulling me through again. He voluntarily uses his break time to pick me up from therapy to save me the cab fare. He hangs out and the most random times. He helps me with the shit therapy is putting me through. He has been my lifeline in more ways than he will ever know.

I'm thankful for my mind. Being an intellectual has been a wonderful thing these past few years. My activity levels are often restricted, so it's a good thing I enjoy just getting lost inside my own head.

I'm thankful for my boyfriend. No matter how rough things have gotten, he refuses to give up on me, on us, and he keeps trying to make it work between us. I don't know what I'd do without him.

I'm thankful for my dog. He's a bit of a nut, but he's a sweetheart. Whenever I come home, and I'm sick, he spends the whole night sleeping at my feet. Every time I so much as twitch a finger, he pads over to make sure I'm ok. The pooch may not understand bronchitis, but he's such a comforting presence.

I'm thankful for all of you, my readers, my friends. You've been with me through one of the craziest periods of my life. You've listened to my crazy rants and rambles, you've been a sounding board for my strange ideas, you've comforted me when the shit hit the fan, you've gone along with my crazy twitter hijinks. You all rawk hardcore.

Jaded Adventures

Recently, I've noticed that I may be becoming a bit jaded when it comes to sex toys. It's happening across the board, but I'm seeing it mostly with vibrators. I've tried a whole bunch of vibrators by now, and I've got a very good idea of what works for me, and what doesn't. It takes a lot to get me excited about a vibrator anymore. It does happen, but I don't start jumping up and down and squealing every time someone offers to send me a premium vibe now. (Yes, that did happen once upon a time. The first time I was sent a Lelo toy, I went a little bit nuts.)

Crazy as it may sound, this has been good in some ways. I have a few vibrators (in a wide range of price points) that really get me there; no matter what my mood, that small group has what I need. Because I'm no longer hunting for a vibe to fit an all-important niche, so to speak, I've broadened my horizons. Originally, I had no interest whatsoever in dildos - now, I want to try every non-porous material I can get my hands on. I'm trying toys for anal play, and pegging. I'm wandering around the world of lubes a bit more. And I'm branching into some BDSM and fetish interests.

I haven't reviewed many BDSM toys here, I know. The toys I truly love are almost all handmade beauties I've picked up at vendor fairs, or the occasional toy I've made myself. However, I drool over all sorts of toys I haven't tried or don't own. Wartenberg wheels and other prickly toys. E-stim, both TENS and Violet Wand. Pumps. Clamps. Interesting restraints. Paddles. Floggers and whips. Dragon Tongues and gags. Lovely, lovely rope.

Things I would never have considered a few years ago are now on my radar. A year or two ago, I was curious, but they were never priorities - there were always other things I wanted to review and try more. Now? I'm definitely a lot more curious, though still a little newbie.

Maybe being jaded isn't so bad after all.

Crazy Twitter Followers

Sometimes my twitter account gets followed by the most random folks. I can understand when a makeup blogger follows me after I tweet about lipstick. I can understand when a Medical Supply store's twitter follows me after I gripe about my back or my mom's diabetes. Heck, while it makes me giggle, I can even understand how SFW Mommy Bloggers can end up following me after I tweet about "toys!"

There are some, though, that I just don't understand.

Today, a forklift company's twitter followed me. Forklifts! I kid you not. Looking back at my tweets, I can't for the life of me figure out what made them think that following me was a good idea. I can't say it better than I did when I shared this bit of insanity with the twitterverse -

A forklift store is following me. I don't have THAT many toys, honest!

I am an Outlier

I am an outlier.

I do not fit the all of the statistical norms for a 22-year-old white American middle class female.

I have had exactly one sexual partner, and exactly one romantic relationship.

Though a college student, I do not "party," nor do I enjoy being drunk.

I enjoy reading technical material.

I am differently-abled due to medical issues.

I'm a woman getting a college degree in a hard science.

I have a transgendered parent.

I am kinky, as far as the statistical average is concerned.

I am a sex toy reviewer. I receive more sex toys in a month than most women in my statistical set get in their whole lives.

I always orgasm when I have sex.

I have natural G-cup boobs on an otherwise slightly built body.

I am very smart, and dedicated to learning as much as I possibly can.

I enjoy classical music. And broccoli. And brussel sprouts.

I don't mind the feeling of sex with condoms, as long as said condom is not textured and is well lubricated.

I go to great lengths to avoid getting a tan, even though I love lying in the sun. (glory be to SPF 60!)

Someday, I will probably be the major breadwinner in my marriage.

I feel no desire to have children of my own. I do not find children or babies inherently cute. Actually, most babies are pretty strange looking, if you ask me.

Though a Christian, I do not follow traditional, accepted "Christian beliefs."

I am not a devoted member of any political party, and I rarely vote along party lines.

I have a blog; while standard in this community, in my "set" at large it is uncommon.

I am an outlier. This does not make me better or worse than any other person. It does not mean I am defective, or maladjusted, or broken. It does not make me a strange, inhuman creature. Being different makes me human. Being different makes me normal, because no one is statistically average in every aspect of their lives and selves. It takes many values to make an average, and an average is representative of the group, not the individual. We all contribute to the average in some way, and like the quantum states of electrons around a nucleus, no two of us contribute the same set of values.

I am different. I am an outlier. I am proud. I am myself, and that is all.

Sluthood

There's been a heck of a lot bouncing around certain corners of the blog-o-sphere recently about sluthood. Some are talking about how wonderful it's been for them, while others are spouting fire and brimstone about how terrible it is, and how it's damaging a girl and ruining her for life. It's made me take a closer look at the way I look at the matter.

My views and feelings on sluthood are actually quite similar to my views and feelings about transgender. I understand them both at an intellectual level; I empathize with the struggles, and cheer on the successes and joys; I support those for whom this is their path (in the case of sluthood) or their identity (in the case of transgender); however, I know that I will never truly "get it" for either one on a deep level, because they are not experiences I have had. I may never know what it is like to be a person for whom sluthood is a joyful, healing, liberating state of mind, and I will never know what it is like to not be cis-gendered, just as "healthy" people don't really know what it is like to live with pain, every moment of every day.

I may not "get" on a visceral level what is appealing about sluthood, because it doesn't appeal to me outside of the realm of fantasy. But you know what? That doesn't matter. What matters is that I respect these people for knowing themselves and finding the path that's right for them right now. What matters is the acceptance, the support that we give each other.

Ain't Fair

To my readers -


I went on this vacation full of enthusiasm and ideas for all the posts I would get written whilst lounging by the pool. I even worked on a review while flying down to Disney World. Then, when I arrived in our hotel, I discovered the awful, ugly truth:


Disney Hotels do not have free internet.


They do not even have cheap internet.


They do not even have slow, glitchy free wireless in the lobby.


They make you pay $10 per day for use of the internet. Per day! That adds up to $70 for a week's vacation if you want to be able to use the internet for the duration of your stay. When you've budgeted everything carefully, that's a bit of a shock. (and don't get me started on the $120 bill for a continental breakfast buffet for 4. Sheesh!)


It kills me, because every time I open my laptop, anywhere on the hotel grounds, I find at least 3 out of 5 bars of signal strength for their wireless. I could be surfing from the pool. From my room. From the waiting line at the restaurant. From the sport courts. From the jacuzzi. From the laundry room. From the roof. Anywhere!

For someone who is bona fide addicted to the internet, this has been tough. I go into withdrawal at least once a day. It's not bad enough to ruin my vacation (usually when we get back to the hotel I'm too tired to do anything but play solitaire and stare at the ceiling), but I keep thinking about all the ways we could enhance our vacation experience with a little internet access. Example: finding out which Disney World Park opens early which day takes almost half an hour of calling around or searching through pamphlets; google can tell me in under 30 seconds. Which restaurants do we really need reservations for? I can't Barista that, we have to hope the concierge will actually tell us the truth instead of the line they're supposed to give us about every restaurant having reasonable wait times before 6pm. Want something from a giftshop, but don't have the room in your bags to take it home? Check and see if you can order it from the website, and have it shipped home.

Et cetera.


Et cetera.


Et cetera.

(cue Broadway music)

Long story short, I haven't posted because I have been completely without internet. My MTF trans-parent has a tetherable Blackberry she can use to get internet on her netbook, but it's for her work only. I am surrounded by an aether of internet, but I cannot touch it.

Life just ain't fair, ya know?

Thank you sex bloggers

I have a confession to make.

Almost a year ago, I created a twitter account for my reviewer persona because I'd heard that that's where the "in crowd" hung out. That's where the "cool reviewers" chatted and such. I was desperate for a community where I could be honest about loving sex and sex toys, so I timidly dipped my toes into the vast ocean that is twitter.

I expected to see a large group of cliques I'd never break into, groups I could watch from the outside and learn from. There were a handful of bloggers I'd idolized since I entered the reviewing world; I've told some of you who you are, so I won't embarrass you by saying it here.

What I found was very different. Yes, there are groups of friends and acquaintances, but it was a very welcoming atmosphere. All sorts of people welcomed me, chatted with me, offered suggestions and advice and laughed at the craziness of life with me. Suddenly, I was able to call some of those idols... friends. They weren't just brilliant reviewers whose blogs I followed, they were people, with lives and personalities and crazy experiences to share. They were people who comforted me when shit went wrong in my life. They were people who laughed at my stupid jokes. They were people who cheered me on when I started to break into the bigger world of blogging and reviewing.

My idols became my friends. That's one of the most amazing feelings in the world, realizing that you have become someone good enough for your idols to respect. These people, and you, my readers, have done wonderful things for my self-image. For once, I'm good enough. I'm worth following, worth hanging out with, worth being called a friend and equal. And for that, I am grateful. Thank you, to the sex blogging community, for welcoming me and making me feel at home.