Archive for el sexo

the ‘ginal frontier

okay, i’m not trying to turn this into a sex blog, but in the next few posts i may have a few things to get off my chest.

the first is the subject of labiaplasty. if you will remember, i wrote a post about this surgery a long time ago. to this day, i get loads of google hits from people either looking for more info about getting the surgery, or people who want to see pics of women with “huge labia naked.” good times. basically, it entails having the inner (more commonly) or outer labia reduced in size surgically. it is one of the fastest-growing types of plastic surgery. this is a complicated subject for me because sometimes i go insane and think of all the different plastic surgeries i “need”, so at this point it’s kind of like, “okay, okay, i’ll have one of those too!” but… well, i think this one is the most misogynistic of all. i have read accounts of women having it because their labia are so large it is painful during sex or to ride a bike or whatever, but i have also read that that is extremely uncommon and most of the labiaplasty surgeries being performed today are for cosmetics reasons.

i caught the last 2/3rds of an episode of dr. 90210 the other day where he was Microkiniperforming this surgery on a girl who supposedly had the former problem. but then, after, she kept saying something like, “i’m going to feel so confident with the way i look” and “now i can wear a bikini at the beach.” okay, what? i am fat, so i never shop for swimwear, but i say unless you are rocking the stylish number to the right (which i’m pretty sure is only legal in florida due to the laws of good taste in other states), there would never be the chance of an “inner-lip slip.” she would seriously have to have dumbo wings down there, and the doctor showed the detached skin pieces during the surgery and they were not THAT huge!

which brings me to my side point of why can they show pieces of labia on tv and not labia on a woman? also, in that same episode of dr. 90210 another doctor was performing top surgery on a transman (female to male). he was showing him before and after photos on the computer and the pictures of the guys chests before surgery, with female breasts, were blurred, but the ones post-surgery were not. i don’t know… it just got me thinking. everyone knows you can show a man’s chest on tv and not a woman’s, but i forgot why. decency? and what makes a man’s chest a man’s chest? surgery? hormones? and then it is suddenly “decent”? i am not meaning to be transphobic here, because i am fully behind the fact that a transman is 100% a man, but i really would like to know what makes his body more decent than mine, regardless of which chromosomes he was born with.

anyhoo, some speculate that the real reason labiaplasty is spreading like wildfire, as well as vaginal rejuvenation, and other surgeries that create “designer vaginas,” is that porn has become so mainstream, therefore women suddenly have pictures to compare themselves to. these pictures, however, depict most often an “ideal” that the majority of women don’t live up to, namely tiny or non-existent labia. studies have even shown, however, that men (should you care what they think. i personally do not.) actually prefer larger labia. my google hits are certainly an Realhousewivesexample of that fact! don’t tell this to the women, though, who are flocking to have this procedure done. this makes me sad. the real reason i love plastic surgery so much is because sometimes it can be SO FUNNY, like the terrifying freaky Courtney_love_now_1147941283monsterface ladies on “the real housewives of orange county,” a host of people who are actually famous for a reason, and half the women that used to come into the salon i worked at. man, that shit is hi.lar.ious! i guess, in many ways, this is a societal problem as well, but i like to think that unnecessary plastic surgeries, the chiseled noses, taught-skinned faces, and shiny balloon animal lips, are a present that god (or whomever) gave to those of us who have any perception of reality what-so-ever to look at and giggle. it doesn’t help any of us at all, though, for ladies to be going around messing with the perfection that is the pussy. that is just not funny at all!

so, you are probably thinking, “amanda, if you are so disturbed by all of these google hits re: labiaplasty, why are you writing about it again?” WELL, the reason is before i was a tiny bit ambivalent about it, but i Cuntcoloringbook_2would like to let it be known hereafter that i absolutely denounce this surgery unless it is a serious, painful case. if you landed here on my blog because you are curious to know if you look normal, get yourself a copy of the cunt coloring book, some colored pencils, a case of beer, rent some lesbian porn (mostly boooooring sex scenes, but realistic bodies), and invite over your friends. you don’t have to bring hand mirrors a la the 70s, but talk about it, and you will most definitely learn a lot about what “normal” looks like.

because i’m a lady

can you guess what i want for valentine’s day? it’s pink!


Ball_gags

the tantus beginners ball gag.

back in pink

now, i realize that when your life is full of such exciting things as not going to any kind of job, living out of your car, and getting hungover after only three cocktails, it is downright irresponsible to deprive the online community of your compelling tales. for this, i appologize, dear reader, and i will do whatever possible to re-earn your trust.

i will start with talking about sex toys. good thing not even my dire financial situation can keep me from going on a sex toy shopping spree. to be fair, i have a friend that works at one of the largest sex shops in los angeles, and who was happy to share her generous employee discount with me, so everything was half-off. this is essential when you are allowing yourself to be talked into purchasing, among other things, a $110 vibrator. Liv i know, i KNOW, but this thing is amazing! first of all, it is really pretty and pink, which is essential. secondly, it comes in a gorgeous gift box with a satin pouch and its charger. that’s right, it is powered by electrical charge, like a cell phone, instead of batteries. how hysterical is that? if you want to know the truth, that’s what sold me on it, not even the five different modes of vibration, powerful speed, and nearly silent motor. omg, i totally sound like one of the experts! i suppose that’s what three hours in the store will do to you though.

normally my shopping companions are absolutely appalled and opposed to my near-obsessive need to shop around, but that day my particular companion was more than willing to indulge me. one might guess that this is because of all the things he wanted to do to me with our new purchases when we got home, but i will take a great shopping partner where i can get one. now if only i could meet a makeup shopping friend that zealous… anyway, i bought my new friend the Lelo Liv vibrator after much debate and turmoil over whether i needed that or the rabbit pearl, which is old news to most, but i am new to penetration, as you all know, so this outing was like seeing the sex shop though new eyes. gone are the days of passing by the non-vibrating dildos in confusion bordering on horror. although, i must say i was rather vexed by the one with lifelike blue veins. gross, but it is nice to be able to have more options. we got an amazing new dick and an intimidatingly ribbed pink thing that is acually rather pleasant. i like that i can try new things with someone and on my own. in fact, i feel like over the last several years my attitude about sex is more open-minded in general.

Pink_blindfold_tn i mean, i’m no prude. j’s friends were shocked and horrified that i requested a choke-out on the first date, but i have major control issues and i have, prior to my current situation, never been penetrated with anything larger than a finger (or two). when i was younger, i thought things like restraints and blindfolds were for old couples who are sick of each other, but now i realize that they are sometimes a necessity for the tightly-wound, over-analytical, control freak such as myself. i tend to panic if i can’t be absolutely in control of my body at all times, but guess what? sex can be way more fun when you’re not. oooh, unless you have mastered the art of something… like squirting vaginal orgasms or whatever. don’t look at me, i’m a g-spot amateur. although i will report, for the ever-curious, that for the first time in my life i truly enjoy getting fucked. it’s remarkable, actually. still not my favorite thing to do in bed, but something i enjoy and crave, rather than dread and roll my eyes through.

anyhoo, we also got a bunch of fun stuff like body-heat melting massage bars and a dvd called “girls down under” which is the lamest porno of all time, unless you have a giant australian bush fetish. i mean, the accents are hot, but basically the plot is, two girls try to have a cookout but the propane tank won’t work, so they get in a fight with the hot dogs (seriously) then agonizingly slowly move inside to have the most boring lesbian sex ever documented on film. this is even more alarming than that one video of two chicks fucking for hours on youporn.com in which one of them has made the dubious decision to leave her white socks on the entire time. un-hot.

oh my god, can you believe i’m writing all this? i haven’t been around for weeks and all i can think of to talk about is my pussy. wtf? oh well. you will be happy to know that i have a couple of creative projects in the works, which is great. now, if only one of those projects were going to ensure my survival for the next year or so. damn damn. damn.

on books and boyfriends

i feel like it’s almost absolutely necessary to keep in my regular tradition of NEVER writing and then writing about a bunch of stuff that doesn’t really fit together, so that is what i am going to do.

well, for now anyway, because as i mentioned previously, i have quit my job and am going to be having a LOT of free time on my hands to do such frivolous things as write, take classes, and you know, pursue my dreams. it’s going to be alllright. today (friday) is my last day at work and i am unbelievably excited about that fact. i already made appointments with my eye doctor, dentist, and bikini waxer. i am going to be the most well-groomed hobo ever! YAY!

Fgt_3 in case you don’t know, i am well-aware of the political incorrectness of the term "hobo" but i just finished reading fannie flagg’s fried green tomatoes at the whistle stop cafe. it makes me feel kind of like a moron to say this, but this is one of those ultra-rare cases when i think the movie is just way better than the  book. in fact, i was actually pretty disappointed by the book. j promised me it was going to be way more lesbionic than the movie, and while it was a little more intense, the characterization was just not there for idgie and ruth. the same is true of all the other characters. plus, i feel like it is borderline racist. maybe that is the whole point and it was radical for the 80s, but i just wasn’t feeling it. all it made me want to do was see the movie. goddamn, that’s good movie. i did like the added character development of smokey lonesome (the hobo) in the book though. i always liked that character in the movie.

omg, speaking of movies, i REALLY want to see that new vampire movie coming out called "30 days of night," but as you know, death-by-vampire is my second most-feared means of death. i don’t know, i am just sooo curious though. it looks very interesting but way too scary!

i saw about a million commercials for it last weekend when j and i went to palm springs for my friendResorthomerentals_010 moof’s bday. she rented this GORGEOUS resort-like home and we just relaxed and swam and ate for two days, it was amazing. i also got sucked into the strange and wonderful world of cable tv and watched the entire cycle 6 of america’s next top model. i was in HEAVEN. the on saturday night j took me out for a nice filet mignon in downtown palm springs. this was our first vacation together and also marked the first time we have had sex outside of l.a. county lines. well, once he rubbed me out in the car on the way home from orange county, but i didn’t come until we got to long beach, so i don’t think that counts.

yes, i said he. j has a female body, identifies as neither gender, and prefers male pronouns. if that definition sounds a bit rehearsed coming from my foul little mouth, that is because that’s what he told me to say when people start asking all kinds of questions about me dating a boy. to me, he’s just the best time ever. also, he is crazy hot, great in bed, and smells good. last night he asked me formally if i would be his girlfriend and duh, i said yes. i was terrified at first when we met because it all happened so fast and i was finally becoming used to the idea of being alone and wanting to sleep around and just being the all-around poster party-girl. then i met him and we connected from that first night. j is the perfect combination of giving and demanding. he knows how to talk me down from my (daily) ledges with a firm yet gentle voice, he watches america’s next top model with me, and he actually loves and enjoys giving back rubs. at the same time, he also grabs my ass and objectifies me in public sometimes because he knows i like it, communicates effectively with me when he needs something or has had enough of something i need (like ANTM), and is such that i want to please him in any way  i can. the other day, i found myself straightening up his room and realized i surely must be in love because anyone who has seen the way i live knows that it is a grand expedition in any room i inhabit to even find me a matching pair of socks. sexually speaking (haha), i have never enjoyed giving this much before. then again, i have never slept with someone i was this into before. it’s pretty much totally awesome.

i dunno, i guess this mushy stuff is all pretty boring to you guys. i love writing funny stories about my shitty life as much as you love reading them, and i don’t want to jinx things between j and i (there will be/have been complications and frustrations), but i just feel like nothing can really take me down right now. it’s silly, i know, and i don’t really believe anything lasts forever, but this is the first time for a really fucking long time that i have wanted something to last forever, have wanted anything real at all, in fact, and i’m not going to take this feeling for granted. trying not to sabotage it, on the other hand, is a whole separate challenge for me. a daily struggle, but i have chosen to take it on.

this weekend, i am going to enjoy our first weekend of official coupledom, hang out with a lot of friends, old and new, and get ready for the no-work week. so sweet.

we-no

this weekend isn’t really worth following up on. i had a date on friday that ended up being kind of a disaster, but not because of my date. then i ended up at "truckstop" which is a ladies night at Here Bar in west hollywood. look, i don’t really go to west hollywood and here’s why: it blows.

in west hollywood there are several (six or seven) beautiful women, none of whom are butch and all of whom would probably assume i was asking them for change if i tried to speak to them. i’m no butch/femme identity nazi or anything, but there is no more terrifying a surprise than seeing a girl you think looks like a handsome young butch in a sea of tacky, unoriginal weho femmes, then looking down and finding that she is wearing pointy heels. shuddershudder. just a personal preference though, pay me no mind.

on a side note, i am really fat right now. i keep planning on losing weight, but i have been in a state of general mental crisis lately and it just so happens my comfort foods are all noodle-based. in another, sweeter life my comfort foods will be scraps of toilet paper and coffee grounds, but alas i have been dealt this lot for now. anyway, i just thought of that because i feel like everyone at "truckstop" was thin thin thin. i don’t know, that place should be fun because i love dancing to cheesy music and staring at cheesy people, but something about it just shakes me to my core. maybe it’s the horrifying air-strike siren that goes off every half hour announcing the entrance of the "hot" gogo dancers who are really a bunch of straight girls in victoria’s secret overstock lingerie dancing on the bar semi-lasciviously (OMG THOSE TWO GIRLS ARE TOUCHING THEIR CLOTHED PELVISES AGAINST ONE-ANOTHER!). whatever, i have seen my own mother be more scandalous.

wow, i am really on one today. it is really fucking hot and humid and i don’t think i should have to suffer through this weather unless i am on a rainforest hike and there is some kind of naked waterfall in my near future.

eh, sunset junction was only fun because all my friends were there and we made it fun, but it was actually hot and lame and i missed blonde redhead.

of course, afterwards i got to go home with my new cute friend and we made dinner and had a lot of sex. i’m kind of wary about writing about all this because i feel a general unrest re: hanging out with and banging someone i actually like a lot, but you know, i guess the time has come to be forthright. i don’t know what’s happening really, but i’m having a good time laying in bed, laughing and talking, which is pretty much my favorite thing next to complaining about stuff i can’t change. oh yeah, and my newest favorite thing, which is having several orgasms in a row, one after another. how embarrassing is this? i seriously want to punch myself in the face every time i catch myself walking around with an idiot’s half-smile. ugh. whatever, i gotta go. i’ll write more later. or soon, i hope. i have no internet!

love you, bye!

finally, the pole and the hole.

in so many ways, you have no idea.

alright, i’m getting this close to cutting all fun out of my life because it causes me to neglect my blog. i like writing late at night a) cause that’s when my brain wakes up and b) that way there is an entry each morning. that is a problem because when i go out i fuck my writing responsibilities to hell and when i stay in i should probably go to bed sometime BEFORE five a.m.

this kind of tomfoolery is what has led me to the great coffee problem of 2007. i am going to see if i can go to that Promises place in malibu for this. friday i went to work hungover and on three hours of sleep and decided that what my raging, empty stomach needed was two cups of muddy java with some of that oversweet hazelnut crap in it. about an hour later i was on my hands and knees getting a lesson in the finer points of cause and effect. the sad part was it wasn’t any worse coming up as it was going in and that is because COFFEE ALREADY TASTES BAD to me. i need to stop drinking it, HELP ME.

okay, speaking of cause/effect, i am getting pretty sick of people who don’t know the difference between effect and affect. i know i complain about this stuff a lot (and then fyi i read this blog and find about six typos per entry and cry) but in this digital age, i think we all need to start taking more responsibility for what we put out there in writing. maybe there should be grammar refresh classes. OR maybe they should have classes where people who are huge know-it all grammar assholes can go pat each other on the back. but only ones that didn’t go to college, like myself.

i kind of feel like complaining about stuff right now.

my other current pet peeve is people who write boring captions on their myspace photos. i mean, i get that sometimes a picture needs no explanation, or not much of one, but what the hell is the point of myspace if not to demonstate to the world that you are a damn clever bastard? i refuse to believe that there are so many people who aren’t clever just hanging about doing god knows what with the time they are not spending blogging or writing witty myspace comments. probably “working” and “loving” and “experiencing joy.” woofuckinghoo i’m too busy for that stuff.

i’m pretty tired. this weekend was out of control because on friday my friend amy caron won the xgames bronze medal in women’s street skating. as you know, i was not there to share in her joy because i was at work. i really don’t want to work anymore. did i mention that? like i said, my job is fine, but i still would really like to do what i love for a living. and if you think what i love is talking incessantly, drinking with my friends, and having sex on people’s porches, you are correct, except you’ve forgotten that whole writing thing.

anyways the point is we all went out to this strip club in hollywood friday night called The Seventh Veil. you know how sometimes you have this tiny dream, not a big dream or anything, but a really small one, and one day it comes true totally by accident, and so quickly and booze-fueled that you barely remember it? that’s what happened to me friday night, my first time at a FULLY NUDE strip bar. oh man! i have been to tons of titty bars, but never one like this! it was exactly how i thought it would be, each element made perfect sense:

a) hairless labia galore
b) chubby couple getting lap dance from the lone chubby dancer in the place
c) wall-to wall eighteen year-old boys
d) super-skinny, young-looking girls who barely smiled
e) dancer with pot leaves tattooed on her hip bones wiping down the pole with windex
f) angry foreign dancer holding her tips in her fist screaming at us all that we were cheap bastards
g) parking lot full of people drinking in their cars

it was kind of my favorite thing ever. a lot of the girls were actually amazing dancers, which kind of puts plain old topless bars to shame. i wish i had more money to tip them, but i don’t. i’m not going back until i do though, because they really were that good. it makes me happy to witness quality dancing in general and then when you throw the vagina element in there, it’s kind of a no-brainer.

well, basically the party continued until 5 a.m. and then began again at 9:30 a.m. when everyone woke up and started drinking beers. i don’t know why, i just don’t know. we then drunkenly decided to walk to casita del campo and drink margaritas and food, which was a bad idea. CDC = ass-kicking peach margaritas and chips and salsa, but i have eaten the food twice and been muy unhappy both times. ugh. blahblah blah napping, then errand running, and another party that night. i wish i had pics, but i hate my camera right now because i decided i shouldn’t have to use any electronic devices that are heavier than a can of beer.

today at work i am definitely going to need some coffee. i’ll drink two cups, do some real work, then get on here and look for all the typos. arrgh.

clone

if i had a clone her name would be jeannie-marie. not because that makes any sense, mind you, but because that was my childhood fantasy name. as you can imagine "amanda-faye" did not win over many hearts on the school playground. and better yet, "amanda" is pronounced "uh-mon-duh" for those of you who didn’t know. it’s amanda in spanish. ay ay ay!

anyways i always wish i had a goddamn clone. mostly so i don’t have to go to work or school on some days. like tomorrow, as i have just spent the last four hours with my hair in someone’s fist and their other hand doing other interesting stuff.

hahaha. for real.

anyhoo, i am pissed because although i l-o-v-e the fact that i don’t have to work on saturdays anymore, i hate that i can never get any week days off. two of my good friends are skateboarding in the x-games on friday and i can’t even go. SO BUMMED, as are sports-loving A:FP readers, i am sure.

of course, i would have missed a hell of a saturday this weekend if i still had a weekend job. don’t you just hate how people assume lesbians walk around topless, making out all the time, then spanking each other with ping-pong paddles? oh, WAIT, that totally happened at this lesbian pool party i went to this weekend. a bunch. man alive, it was a great time. after there was another party, then a GREAT hour of dyke dancing at akbar (finally!), a bunch of drama, and del taco. the perfect day.

sorry i haven’t been writing. i have a bunch of posts in mind, but i can’t seem to find the time. that’s gonna end soon, though, i promise.

sharp, intellectual, HILARIOUS posts.

about my pussy.

i kid, i kid.

sorta.

sexy british imports all around!

P11 so basically there are no two people in the world i would rather have sex with than victoria and david beckham, together, bad tatoos and all. i don’t care that i’m a lezzer and he has a cock. seriously, if i found out he had SIX penises, i’d take on every one of them just to bathe in the sweat of this gorgeous man and his tiny, glamourous wife with dykey hair. i just think they are so hot. i watched that coming to america special with her in it and while, honestly, i was half-watching it and half looking at new phones on the internet, i could tell she is funny and oh so charming. i want to make out with her really bad. and she is my hero because she always wears heels and isn’t sorry. i was actually quite inspired by that because lately i have been shamed into wearing mostly flats and i am tired of this discrimination. i am a high femme, goddamn it. i thinnnnnk… whatever, i don’t care, i want to bang the beckhams though.

gonna need to buy some new heels, as all of mine are pretty tired, so it’s a good thing i am moving out of my place and saving money next month. if all goes well, my mom will think i am moving home to save some cash but i will secretly be living in silverlake with lacey, my psychic twin and drill sargent. omg, i am going to get so thin and so in tune with the universe, it won’t even be funny. seriously, it won’t be that funny at all, but it will probs be way more sexy.

like my new phone, 79153_matter the samsung SCH-u740! okay, it’s not that sexy and it’s no iPhone or sidekick, but verizon is lame. great service, crap phones. i like to think of its shimmering, gold exterior as a terrible misstep on a ripoff of the dolce and gabbana gold razr. haha, still, they tried, and the double hinge IS pretty cool. i have never had a phone with a querty keyboard before so i am so going to town. AND i have unlimited AIM and text. pretty exciting. wish i could IM at work like a normal spoiled person :(

i still like my job, but my boss is bumming me out a little. he is way cool normally, but sometimes he starts power-tripping and i don’t know how to handle that, really. i mean, it’s his company and it’s very small, so it’s cool he wants to be involved in every step, but the word "micromanage" comes to mind. not that i even know what that exactly means, b/c i never went to college, you know. anyways, for a non-related illustrative example:

boss: "you pressed the wrong button, this is the right one."
me: " oh okay, i’m sorry. yeah, i see, that’s the green one, not the red. okay, yes."
boss: "you have to press the green button, not the red one. do you know what i’m saying?"
me: "yes, green button. sure that makes way more sense."
boss: "and, you know, when you press a button, you are basically using your finger and applying pressure to it. do you understand what that means?"
me: "uh, yeah, i definitely know how to press a button. it’s the green one, i see that now."
boss: "well, let’s sit here and you press the red one, that way you can see how it’s different from pressing the green one."
me: *dying inside*

i can most definitely handle criticism, but i don’t like when someone tells you over and over what you did wrong. i just don’t really learn from that. i also don’t like when they think you fucked up one way, but reallyMonkey you fucked up a different way. i like to OWN my mistakes. the other day i got firmly reprimanded for not listening to the saved messages and no one would listen to me when i was trying to say duh, i totes did listen to them, i just forgot to write one of them down because i am a severely depressed, heavy drinker with sleep disorder. omg, also, today he told us girls we take too many bathroom breaks. i don’t know much about labor history, but i’m pretty sure even those monkeys with typewriters would not have stood for that kind of talk.

Thecone1_f in any event, back to sex. i am insanely libidinous lately, which is honestly bizarre and disturbing considering the grief i have been experiencing. or maybe it makes all the sense in the world. i don’t know much about the sexual patterns in my brain and i prefer to keep it that way. just get drunk and fuck! haha, jk. sorta. i have issues… but for now, the matter at hand: i soooo want the cone! the cone is from great britain, just like victoria and david beckham. coincidence? YES! anyway, the cone seems so ridiculous, it just might be amazing! it’s expensive but my friend works at a sex shop, so i can get a discount, and i wanna try this thing! i haven’t bought a sex toy in a long time, though, so maybe i want to get a few instead of blowing so much cash on the cone. aw, but i really like saying "the cone." hmmm.

here’s hoping the traditional six month anniversary gift is a foot rub…

okay, so this weekend was the six month anniversary of my blog (i think, i am not that good with numbers). it probably would have been so great for me to write a special anniversary post, but sometimes i’m like, “oh my god, look, it’s like, the WEEKEND. i am RELAXING, i don’t need to BLOG. i’m not your SLAVE!” and this weekend was no exception.

anyway, it was a maj busy weekend. thursday night was supposed to be a special surprise secret show by Img_2728_2peaches at this night called club butchin’ at a tiny little club in highland park called mr. t’s bowl. it’s an old bowling alley converted into a nightclub. okay, duh, we have all seen peaches 568 times, but it would have been pretty awesome at that tiny-ass club and for so cheap. lots of people came out. it was really fun despite the fact that she did not play and instead wandered glassy-eyed around the club. at first i was a little bummed, but then i decided that that situation was almost MORE awesome. anyway, the band that did play, StinkMitt were fucking fantastic. i had decided i was totally over that genre of music until i heard them. so good. so hilarious!

whatever, let’s get to the point. i just looked at a bunch of japanese magazines and got really depressed about how boring american hair is. look, i’m not one of those girls who is like, obsessed with japanese style and culture because honestly i am far too l.a./amanda-centric for that. i just think it’s way annoying that these girls are running around across the globe with really cool hair as a default, and everyone here is like, “gee, golly, how long, straight, and boring can i pay good money for my hair to be???” dude, at least get some hot, sexy, Elviracostumee1 feathered elvira bangs and bouffant-top if you must rock that flat iron. i know that you are probably thinking, “that’s easy for you to say amanda-faye. your hair has all that natural bounce and sass!” well, duuuh, but don’t you think i sometimes wish for straight hair?B00005jljs01lzzzzzzz_2 of course, the only reason i ever wish i had straight hair is so i could do something really exciting with it. it’s hard with curly hair because everyone usually insists that you must have really boring, long, classic hair. well, i say F-you felicity! you and that noxema girl can both go stright to HELL! well. luckily valerie and lacey at steam have both been cutting my hair for the last year or so and have done a great job of maintaining the integrity of the curls while also hip-ing it up a bit.

i’m trying to grow the front really long right now and grow out my straight-across bangs, but i don’t know if i can give the bangs up yet. they were so cool for a minute there, but i was starting to feel like they made me look like a boy. with giant tits.

my diet started officially today, but then i drank a bunch of beer. i was supposed to work out after work instead of drinking a bunch of beer, but then i decided since i spent about three hours friday night with my legs bent behind my head and am still sore, i can afford to splurge a bit.

hahahaha.

but seriously, i really need to firm up a bit, head to toe. someone posted a pic of me on my myspace that,Aginface2_small while not entirely unflattering, shows the serious potential i carry to develop sagging jowls as i age. this concept is almost as terrifying to me as the genetic evidence i have witnessed among the women of my family that my insanely adorable little ears are going to elongate to nearly three times their size by the time i turn fifty. woe, oh WOE! whatever, i know i need to stop being so vain, but it is difficult when all i do is think and talk about how i look. ha! i nearly had a heart attack because there was a picture of my ass on a website that i have linked on this blog before, but shall remain nameless in this post because, um, i don’t want you all to go look at my ass. it was from sf pride when i got all sauced up and evidently threw myself into a bush. i would like to think it was an unauthorized upskirt, but the painful reality is that although i don’t actually recall a single moment of that night, i feel fairly confident that by about 3:30 a.m. my skirt was sitting about around my neck of my own volition.

damn damn damn! the only real problem i have with this is that my ass was so perky and alert about a year ago, but has hence given up a bit. for most of my life, my waist and face have borne the brunt of consequence of ceaseless emotional eating, but it appears at though my lower body is finally taking it’s turn. ugh.

well, so much for a mind-blowing anniversary post. at least it has no direction what-so-ever and allows the reader to taste the many seasonings of my labor. i’m thoroughly enjoying writing in this here blog and i wanted to say thanks to everyone who is reading it, and hi to new readers. please refer to this post for a little bit of background. pretty much nothing has changed except i added the banner, went through three jobs, and had a bunch more sex. i dunno, i recommend reading it from beginning to end, but that might be because i’m just a really traditional girl, you know?

fashion, fags, and full lips

i decided that since this is a holiday weekend i could take some time off and not write anything. the trouble is i am grumpy and restless, which makes me want to write. that, and after friday night at akbar i have decided that i am boycotting holiday weekends from this day forward.

we all know going out on the weekends in l.a. is risky biz because of the hideous weekend warriors, but akbar has come to be my solace from that. pretty much the same people go there every weekend, they are all gay, and i am usually too wasted and dancing with my friends so i don’t care anyway. but my god, my god, friday night was a cruel, eye-opening journey into the reality of most bars on any given weekend… in the valley. i don’t know what was going on, but everyone except our group looked terrible. there were more straight people there than ever and none of them looked like they were from anywhere around here. there were girls in ill-fitting, light wash flared jeans, printed tunics, and bad highlights as far as the eye could see. i even spied a crocheted shawl in the crowd. all that and i was SOBER. it was all i could do to keep from openly weeping on the dance floor. never again, i swear.

okay, just for the sensitive folks, i want to make it clear that i have nothing against straight people. i’m just saying that when i go to a gay (man) bar, i expect to be surrounded by well-dressed fags, a smattering of hags, and a handful or two of lesbians. on that note, the gspot (gauntlet/eagle) wednesday girl nights are seemingly in danger of being overrun by men. this is irritating, and borderline offensive. those guys get that bar all week, why do they have to show up on our night, hog both restrooms, and touch us inappropriately thinking it’s okay because they are gay? gross. i don’t know who to complain to, but i am going to complain.

as i mentioned earlier, i am extremely on edge right now. i feel like this has mostly to do with the fact that i hate my shitty job, am exhausted all the time, have no money to pay my rent, and… well, there is some other stuff.

BUT, the good news is, i have good news. i am holding off on reporting it until i can get all the facts straight, but let me just tell you, things are looking up.

i just wish i could have a bunch of money RIGHT now. it makes me sad that i am still going to have to wait god knows how long before i can afford plastic surgery. omg, i just spent, like, an hour online researching procedures. i think my last few scraps of self-acceptance have finally melted away. at this point pretty much the only surgery i don’t want is labiaplasty. this makes no sense to me. i have researched it a bit and am still so skeptical. the link i posted has a bunch of before and after pics, but they just aren’t very convincing. only a few of the women look even remotely abnormal, if one can say that at all. the website says some women have to get it because their large labia minora interfere with sexual intercourse… okay, fine, maybe. but it also says they can interfere with the comfort of wearing tight pants. the simple solution to that, if you ask me, is this wonderful, magic helper we like to call underpants. the main point that particular website seems to be driving home, though, is the utter EMBARRASSMENT of large or uneven labia minora or large labia majora.

look people, i am going to be straight with you right here and now, i have “healthy” sized labia majora and uneven labia minora and i have no problem with it what-so-ever. in fact, i have been told on multiple occations by more than a few people (okay, more like exactly a few) that i have a fantastic pussy. i don’t hate on girls with tiny or no outer lips, but i have never thought that looked “normal” per se. in fact, i think it looks a little goofy, especially when they shave off all the hair. furthermore, i have had the “uneven” inner lips conversation with countless friends of mine, and i don’t think one single girl has said she doesn’t have one side larger than the other. my right side is slightly larger, and i will have you know, that little piece of skin is extra-sensitive and loves attention, a matter upon which no one has ever complained. ever.

and so it is in closing that i would like to say we must be thankful for life’s small blessings. today i am thankful for the fact that i have happened upon one part of my body i wouldn’t sell a kidney to afford to have surgically altered. well, that and the invention of dark denim. what kind of jeans did fashionable people wear at night before dark denim? i hope to never find out, i honestly don’t want to know!