Like A Bad Episode Of "Mad Men."

So, that new little widgety thing at the top of the page there, where it says "I Majored In Creative Writing, Why?" and has a donation tab? That's not spam, or an extremely fitting ad. That's what happens when your parents are supportive of your dreams and don't stop you from graduating with a B.S in Writing and no job. So, if you, dear readers, happen to be a little more flush than I am, and enjoy reading what I put up here, throw a couple of dollars at me, and help keep me off the streets and instead, pounding them and the parties and lives of the influential, funny people and writing interesting, informative, and sarcastic little witty things for you to read and be entertained by. Thank you, very, very much, in advance. (My adorable little cat who relies on me for food, shelter, and litter thanks you too, as he has grown very used to being kept in the manner of someone whose housing used to be paid for by college scholarships and is no longer.)

In other news, I am at the S.O's condo all evening, trying to polish off this extremely arduous next Vermont Commons magazine column (which resulted earlier in me cleaning said condo during a bout of writer's block), and roasting a whole chicken, potatoes, and carrots so that the S.O will have dinner when he gets home from work. With a nice bottle of Italian white wine, perfectly aerated. (Italy was possibly the best finishing school I could have ever been sent to. Cooking lessons, everything there is to know about good Italian wines and liquor, and how to extricate myself from a very vehement European would-be Don Juan while hurting no one's feelings. Now, THAT'S an education for you; you can hold my B.S!)

Like I said, between that, and listening to him and his friends talk business in posh bars while getting quietly drunk in the corner of the table, what is this, the freaking '50s again?

But no, babe, I love it, really! (Now would be a good time to let y'all know he reads SATCG, so, if you want to know if he has any cute, similarly considerate and funny, single friends [which he does], now would be a good time to send a shout-out in the comments section! Or just for doing a great job all around at keeping me occupied and happy.)

XOXO

Self-Censorship

I do not mean

to exploit our relationship

All that I have

learned from you

I cherish most

Should I keep it to myself?

Should I keep you to myself?

What is personal?

Should I code what I say?

I say so little

too much

when meanings are already hidden

Should I hide them?

What am I going to keep for myself?

The wild woman is unkempt

The changing woman is unkempt

She speaks her mind.

- Excerpt from "She" by Saul Williams, that quite handily describes how I feel about choosing content and censor events for this blog.

XOXO

Sex And The College Girl...A Political Columnist?

I don't know how it happened. I really don't know why. I actually really detest politics, or talking about politics, or debating about politics, the product of growing up with a severely politically-rampant father, even though I have strong opinions about a few items-- namely, environmental issues, women's rights, and higher education. Maybe it just affirms my belief that I'm a whore for a by-line. But however it happened, I was asked to be a columnist/blogger for Vermont Commons newspaper, an online and print publication, and I accepted. Stemming from the idea that Vermont could better govern itself as an independent state than as part of the government, it covers everything from politics, to environmental issues, to the localvore movement in Vermont. And I now write for it.

Part one of my installment just hit the web a few days ago. It's called "SEX-CESSION," (of course, what else?) and here's an excerpt from it:

"Everyone has heard horrible break-up stories: The ones where there was lots of screaming and crying and breaking of things. But for everyone who’s thrown their used-to-be-beloved’s clothing out the window and onto the front lawn as the passers-by stopped and stared, there’s been someone who’s been calm and collected and respectful. I personally have not met or been that person yet, but I hear that they’re out there somewhere. Point being, there are good break-ups, and then there are bad break-ups. When you think about it, secession isn’t so much different...

...Sustaining something, be it a relationship between two people or a union of 50 vastly different states, is no easy task. What one person, or one state, needs is different from what another desires. Vermont sleeps next to New Hampshire every night, and while we’re one of the most politically liberal states New Hampshire is as politically conservative as they come. Unlikely bedfellows, yes; and yet the orders coming from the head marriage counselor (the U.S Government) expect that they’ll be treated not just as equals, but as one cohesive unit."

Follow this link to Vermont Common's website to read the entire column.

XOXO

Man Eater

Even though I'm a little rock-n'-roll in my style, it's taken me a long time to hop on board with the whole tights-under-denim-shorts look. Burlington, Vermont, while extremely fashion-forgiving, is not exactly Florence. This girl, however, rocked the look in way that felt easy enough to emulate with pieces out of my own wardrobe when I was getting dressed this morning in a particularly ass-kicking mood. (I'm also lusting after that men's Bone Idol t-shirt HARDBODY.)

I took this Elvis pompadour skull tee that I got at Zara in Florence, sheer black leggings, and my American Eagle medium wash denim short-shorts and called it a Vermont December day with a studded belt, and my Letizia Ferrari black high-heeled motorcycle booties from Italy. I hunted all over the internet for a photo of them, but alas, failed, so you can see them back in this post here, and here are a few other example of black motorcycle booties that I think work with this look nearly sinfully well:

Just a few hints: Keep it all black from the end of your denims down. This elongates your legs and keeps everything uniform. Some girls can pull off brightly colored tights instead of black, but if you have a midget-sized inseam like I do, black is your best friend.

And think Seattle Grunge. Think Kurt Cobain. Pile on the jewelry and top is all off with a flannel long-sleeve shirt. I roll my cuffs to mid-forearm, always. All the better to show off that jewelry with.

I'm currently trying to make up allllll the work I never did this semester before it ends, and juggle it with my social life. Here's a big mea culpa for being spotty about blogging lately-- unfortunately, it's probably going to continue for the next two weeks, but how about I promise that what I DO finally get around to posting sporadically in between crying myself gently to sleep at night at the thought of having to write another speaker reflection paper for Internship and getting my handle on this thing called "acceptable public interactions with men," they'll be really good, thought-provoking, interesting, dishy posts. Ok? Ok. Cheers.

XOXO

Now Tweeting

For Your Entertainment:

SATCG got a Twitter page, all of its own. Hooray. Follow at sexandtheCG on Twitter for real-time Tweets when new posts go up on the blog, and for other pertinent articles that I find during my daily trawls of the internet while avoiding being productive or actually doing something with my life.

XOXO

Professional Opinion: The Case For Cliches

I just spent the last hour and 15 minutes of my life trying not to storm out of a room while listening to a man. It was harder than I thought it would be.

Periodically, for my Internship class, we have guest speakers come in and present to us what it is they do and how they have made their livings in the writing world. While I have thoroughly enjoyed some of these speakers and gotten new and innovative ideas on where I could potentially go with my career, some of them, like today's, signify to me all that is wrong with the writing industry and world.

I've been learning lately that the "Lemon Law" that applies to dating-- the idea that within your first few encounters with a new man, he will tell you exactly, but maybe not in so many words, what it is that is wrong with him-- applies to the professional world as well. Within the first 5 minutes of meeting someone in a professional setting, you can usually get an idea as to their bend rather quickly. Sometimes it's in their lack of interest, or in their blatant disclaimer that they hate hiring new people to do what it is they think they can do best themselves. Today, the head editor of a local newspaper that shall remain unnamed, along with the speaker, pronounced within the first 5 minutes of sitting down that "99% of what is on the internet is swill."

This may have understandably got my hackles up, but what ironies and flip-flopping proceeded to come forth from his mouth really cemented him as, in my mind, probably one of the least-favorite individuals I've ever met. And this is why.

"Get rid of your mannerisms," he told us. "The hackneyed phrases; the cliches. You won't unearth your personal style until you strip away this junk." You know, I've heard this enough from my professors and other professionals that I get the point. A lot of budding writers stick to the cliches and what they know is widely known an accepted because they don't have the tools to formulate those phrases or thoughts yet themselves. But just like some of the rules of traditional style have to be sacrificed for the sake of excellent poetry (e.e cummings, anyone?), and you have to know the rules of grammar in able to stylistically have the license to break them, I think that some of those cliches are so wide-spread because when used sparingly and properly, they can speak to people and be understood instantly and better than anything new possibly could. I use cliches. I actually really love the nostalgia of certain cliches. The turns of phrase are more elegant and sophisticated than what I'm capable of coming up with on my own sometimes, and they read more consistently across the board. "Misery loves company." "Footloose and fancy-free." "Free as a bird." "As subtle as a bull in a china shop." They're beautiful. Why shouldn't we be able to use them, when the right moment arrives?

Furthermore, your mannerisms, I believe, are what make your voice. My mannerism are what makes my writing unique and stamps it as my own like a thumb print. You cannot write with the same spin that I do. I can't mimic your writing, because I don't think the way you do. My vocabulary is not your vocabulary. We don't use those same phrases and cliches-- we have our own favorites. Strip that away, and you're left with what? Associated Press-sounding content. Yes. Because AP style is totally going to make my page impression count go up.

This came from the same man who handed out a packet of what he considered "excellent writing" in which the following lines were included in "Warrior's Requiem", which, first of all, is an incredibly pompous name for a news article. Ever since "Requiem of a Dream," I've been weaned off of liking that word. Anyway, here are a few samples of sentences: "convalescing from the storms and stresses," "like a sudden liberated vacationist," "the outpouring of the national heart," "under the wide and starry skies of his own homeland America's unknown dead from France sleeps tonight, a soldier home from the wars," and "Alone, he lies in the narrow cell of stone that guards his body; but his soul has entered into the spirit of America. Wherever liberty is held close in men's hearts, the honor and glory and the pledge of high endeavor poured out over this nameless one of fame will be told and sung by Americans for all time." Gag me. Gag me, now. I'm sorry. Was that clear? Concise? Direct? Not cliche? Was that good news coverage for the everyman? No across the board.

He then encouraged us to keep our writing to one thought per sentence, shying away from using commas to tack on another compound thought, and forgo using "and," "because," "therefore," "however," and "although." "Don't force readers to think [back in the text] by using words like 'latter' and 'respectively'," he then told us; personally, I think he could have stopped at "Don't force readers to think," and summed up his whole outlook on his writing profession succinctly and successfully. Scary, then, that this man is in charge of the content of local news, and champions charging fees for accessing archived information and moving some forms of electronic news over as apps for iPad and smart phone users alone. Maybe I'm just from East Bumfuck, Nowhere, and maybe it's just my radical, nearly Communist, liberal way of thinking, but I'm sorry-- is local news a right, or a privilege? When I hear about a shooting in the town I grew up in, try to access my hometown newspaper's website, and can't get any information from it because I refuse to pay a fee for what will be a once-in-a-blue-moon-or-disaster frequency, do you know what I have to do? Call my family and friends and ask if everyone is ok. Chances that they know exactly what happened to whom? Slim. This helps me, and communities, how? Turning it into a money-making venture from something that used to be so typically First Amendment American turns my stomach. I believe that that's one hell of a way to alienate your audience, as well as your community. Very few disillusioned souls ever went into the newspaper business to get rich. You pick your lot in life-- now deal with it. Not all of us will end up being wildly successful. If you're in the writing gambit, chances are, you should be more comfortable with the idea of living in a cardboard box than in a mansion. Or, at least, anywhere far above the poverty line, unless you have an incredible talent and natural proclivity.

I guess what got me the most up on my soapbox about this dude was the fact that he seems to be instilled in the fact that you must condescend to your readers, and maybe more so, finds this appropriate. This flies in the face of all that I believe and hope to achieve. Reading Cosmo isn't fun anymore. I've moved to Glamour for my monthly glossy reading, with supplements like The Atlantic, The New Yorker, ELLE, and Vogue. Reading Cosmo, in fact, makes me feel stupid-- like I can literally feel my brain cells screaming out for a compound sentence and shriveling up. What I'm trying to offer here, at its best, is an alternative to the recycled dumbed-down content for the thinking woman, and honest intelligent insight into women's thinking for the everyman. Is this achieved in every post I write? Certainly not. But I do my best. The wait between posts is a real-time example of the amount of time it takes for me to find, research, mull over, and develop a new idea, or a new spin on an old idea. It's not easy. It's not to be taken lightly. What it is, I hope, is fun, sometimes innovative, and thought- or opinion-provoking.

Unlike our speaker today, I think that it is a writer's obligation to expand their reader's minds. To not cater to the intelligence slums of the masses, but challenge their readers to think. Challenge them by doing what other writers are too afraid, or too traditional, to do. Trust that your readers are people as intelligent as you are, if not more. Trust that they have interests. Trust in their powers to infer, or gather more information if they don't think they have all of it. And if absolutely nothing else, trust that your readers can always find somewhere else to read if they're not giving them what they desire. We're not sheep. You're not sheep. I hope I give you enough to stay interested. Please let me know if I'm ever not, and, unlike our speaker, I'll do my best to make sure to provide something eclectic and invigorating for you to read.

XOXO

"Sophomore Bitties"

So, Google Analytics recently (and by recently, I mean over a month ago, but I'm finally getting around to addressing this,) teamed up with Blogger to provide readership stats to all blogs, a move which I highly condone. Why? Because this means that not only can I keep numerical track on how many people are viewing this blog per day, from different countries around the world (that's you, Burundi!), what other sites are leading you to my blog through links (thanks, Molly, at Smart, Pretty, and Awkward, for the masses of people who jump over here), but I can even view what browsers and operating systems you're using. It's 1984, after all. Big Sister is watchin'.

It's kind of creepy, yeah, but it's useful. I now know what keywords will get me more blog hits (better business practices); I know what times of the day more of you have time to browse the web, therefore giving me a better frame of time in which to update with new content for you; and what the most viewed posts are, which lends me better ideas of what you would like to read about. (Sadly, it's actually the post about skinny-dipping and Naked Tuesdays, just because of that fucking image.)

When we get to the fact that it also shows me what keywords people are using to search for this blog, or keywords used that show this blog as one of their results, it can go one of two ways: really disconcerting (consider a few of the words in the blog title and the proclivities of people searching for those things), or downright hilarious. Among the "downright hilarious" are my Top 5 Favorite Searched Keywords That Led You Here of All-Time:

1.) Champlain College is a joke

2.) Sophomore bitties (Whoever searched this-- hi, I'm single, and I love you.)

3.) Large British women having sex (I laugh because I have no idea how this got you here, and otherwise, I'd have to worry.)

4.) "I really fucked things up this time, didn't I, my dear." (These are lyrics to "Little Lion Man" by Mumford & Sons. I straight-up love the fact that I archived those lyrics so long ago that they show up among the top results when you search for the lyrics to that song. That's what I call personal accomplishment.)

5.) The perfect naked girl (Why, thank you!)

However, a lot of your spelling skills make me want to break down and cry. "College grils"? "Collage gurls?" "Sexii grls"? Really? Really? Hello, this is good grammar. Let me introduce the two of you. Hopefully, you'll hit it off as much as you hit it off with "sharp stiletto sex."

XOXO

Normalcy Sucks.

Cosmopolitans. Good beer. My monthly women's magazines. Men's facial hair. Expensive leather interiors of expensive European cars. Bubble baths. Sunday football. Snakes. A few of my favorite things.

Writer's block. Or, more accurately, having absolutely nothing of interest to write about. Not one of my favorite things.

There comes a moment in your life when you've laid the past just enough to rest that you're more "more" over it than "less," and in a sort of gray-zone about where to go from there. This moment generally comes around when you've progressed to being friends with your ex; when you have decided that you are perfectly content with the way things are (for the most part); or when you've committed to keep sabotaging yourself or others for the stupid fun of it, but in a very small way. This moment is called A Love/Sex/Relationship Columnist's Nightmare.

I'm the sort of person who could never be happy in a perfectly functioning and progressing relationship. In order for me to remain happy and interested, there's always got to be some small level of drama-- something for me to tear apart over and over again in my head. Average just doesn't cut it for me. That's why I'm so notoriously picky. There aren't many guys who can keep THAT intrigue up. And when there is no drama, no intrigue, and no new news to report, it means that there is nothing for you to read.

So if you've noticed a downswing in the amount of content on this blog recently, sorry. I have no one, and nothing, to bitch about. Boo hoo. Normalcy sucks. I'll try to pick it up. Anyone know an attractive, emotionally unavailable, intelligent man with a casual style and psychological, misogynistic, and mommy issues with an charismatic and addictive personality who just happens to be misguidedly looking for the love that he will never be able to maintain? Kind of my specialty. (Not much of a specialty.) I need a project.

Or a new hobby, possibly less destructive than this.

XOXO

Porn For Women

I was in Borders (aka: where I have been living lately without internet,) with a friend the other day, scoping out movies after I recalled, from some distant, vague, groggy middle-school memory, the gem of a movie "Someone Like You" and decided I could not live without it. Girls being girls, after I had my copy in hand, Trish and I lingered among the DVDs, pointing out our favorites and asking if the other had ever seen them. We agreed that "Valentine's Day" was cute and likable yet replaceable; that the "Ugly Truth" got a far worse rap than it deserved as we both really liked the truths in it; and then moved on to the slasher flicks. But as we wandered down the lane of "Shutter Island" and "Midnight Meat Train" (NOT a porno as one might expect-- as Trish said, "When I watched it, I was just waiting for some huge black dude to bust in and be like, 'You can't handle my meat!'"), one last movie caught our eye: "He's Just Not That Into You."

If you haven't been reading for so long, one of my first posts was a review of the movie. We both settled into a contented silence looking at the DVD cover before Trish said, "I really like Ben Affleck. You know that scene where he's in the kitchen...?"

EVERY woman knows that moment. That scene, as Jennifer Aniston walks into the kitchen after looking at the sedentary schmucks her sisters married, and finds Ben with kitchen towel and dish soap in hand, and seeing him for the first time since they split, her face starts to crumble into tears of sadness-cum-joy as he puts a plate in the drying rack...that is porn for women.

It's not so much the act of washing the dishes that does it. I've seen men clean before. I've been with some pretty productive men when it comes to cleaning. I've watched a man wash his dishes before, and really, that didn't do it for me. What it is-- what is IS-- is that moment where you see a woman who's floundering in life, after losing her long-time partner, after her beloved father falls into bad health, as she tries to keep her family together, walk into a room and see the last person she would ever expect be the one who's there for her when she needs it the most. Any woman who has ever been in a tight spot knows how much just knowing there's someone in your corner helps. Any woman who has ever been cynical about things working out, only to be proven wrong, knows what that moment feels like. All women relate to that. The problem is, not all woman have that "aha" moment in their kitchen, or, for that matter, anywhere else. It's like an urban dating myth. And that's why it's porn for women.

It's unexpected from men, and that's why we love it so. We're used to one thing, and seeing the reverse happen is refreshing and full of hope. A man's dick, as I realized the other day, is not Marco Polo-- it can't just go exploring every land it wants to. Nor is it Napoleon and the conquerer of all you see. You can nickname it whatever you like-- Maximus even if you're not a gladiator slaying (or laying) all the ladies-- but it just doesn't work that way. And yet, this, and not the kitchen scene ideal, is what we're used to dealing with.

This is not a call to arms for men to stampede to the nearest woman's kitchen and start soaping up. This is just a simple statement of facts: women like to be surprised by kind gestures when least expected. That, and not a man in an apron, is what really turns us on. (In fact, a man in an apron, unless you are Chef Roberto from Florence, is really a mental boner-killer.)

XOXO

P.S-- The blog turned 1 yesterday! Thanks for a great year, your continued readership, your support, and your comments.

Hey, You Wanna Blog?

Well, it IS a four-letter word. For shits and giggles, you can even replace the word "blog" with "fuck" in this post and see where it gets you. Just, you know, if you don't want to take this seriously.

About a week ago, I was chatting with a friend of mine who recently graduated in the same major that I'm going to be-- Professional Writing. We were discussing how newly-minted grads can get their writing out when he brought my blog up, asking me how I found enough time to write so much, citing the fact that I obviously loved doing so. It wasn't so much of a time commitment thing, I told him. I can knock a post off anywhere between 45 minutes and 2 hours, depending on the length and if the subject matter needs any researching. I'm a first-draft-is-the-best-draft and quick-editing sort of girl. It's more about just being eternally curious about things.

I started blogging back in high school. Between my short attention span, lack of interesting content, experience, life subject matter, and being in "too small of a space," it failed. Also paramount was probably also the fact that I still thought I was bound to be a Great American Fiction Novelist, a fact that I now get a really good laugh out of, being the queen of short, question-driven format. I got back into it last summer, when, unemployed and in an unhappy relationship, I figured it would give me something to do, and a way to make pocket change. (Never underestimate the power of quarters in a coin-op laundry apartment dweller's life.)

Lately, I've been getting a lot of great feedback from readers, either from people whom I consider excellent writers themselves telling me I've got a good thing going, or from relative newbies asking for blogging advice and how to keep up the song and dance routine and make it into something showy. I've been kicking the following spiel around for awhile, ever since a professor last year fall mentioned he may have a class he'd like me to talk about blogging to, and then, again last semester, when an online class I was taking for my major challenged us all to create and maintain a blog as an integral part of our soon-to-be profession. I was a little saddened, I'll admit, when the class didn't seem to grasp the idea of having a blog. Granted, mine was already well underway, and in fact, an email had to be sent to my professor explaining that for professionalism's sake, I would not be posting any of my non-content related class assignments on SATCG. But when it became clear that not many people in our class of 12 were embracing the blog, it flabbergasted me. I really don't get the recalcitrance that some writers have about blogging. I mean, I know they're not for everyone, and there will always be someone who likes getting rejection letters from The Atlantic and The New Yorker more than publishing the "easy way." But even Hank Moody deigned to blog, for chissake. It's just easy. It doesn't take itself too seriously. It's a great starting spot. A blog URL is a great thing for a writer to include on their business card to hand to potential editors or agents or publishers to visit and get an idea of what you do. Eventually, a blog even gives you material to ship off to publications. (My Sexual Anthropologist's Portfolio is an example of this, and maybe one of these days I'll actually realize the fact that I graduate in under a year and need a steady and reasonably well-paying job and start sending things out.)

That being said, the following are things that every blogger really needs to carefully consider before or during their blogging experience. I'm a big fan of doing things and doing things as best I can, and nearly one year into blogging at SATCG, with 47 followers, a total of nearly 20,000 page hits, and almost my first check from AdSense on its way, this is the best blogging advice I can give you:

-Before you start writing, ask yourself-- What are you passionate about? It doesn't have to be a topic you can discuss ad nauseum-- it just has to be something you can run with. Do you even like to write? Ask yourself what do you like to write about, and how do you like to write about it? Do you take a more scholastic tone naturally, or a more conversational one? Do you tend to form essays with theses and answers backed up by research, or does free-form poetry suit you more? Some people keep blog diaries. Some people have news blogs. You need to be sure you're writing something thematic in a way that you'll be able to call forth any time you want to.

-Who you target your blog to makes a huge difference. Sexandthecollegegirl.blogspot.com gets between 80 and 200 hits a day, depending on recent posting frequency, subject matter, and timing. It is mostly unadvertised, mainly relying on my friends and word-of-mouth to spread. I got really lucky early on and was featured on Smart, Pretty and Awkward by the incomparable Molly, which helped my readership exponentially. My friends have also gone above and beyond the call of duty, posting the blog to StumbleUpon and linking it to their own blogs. Obviously, a blog based around the premise of a Sex and the City-esque column is going to attract mostly young women, but I was surprised at the diversity of my readership. Some are from as far away as Australia, Japan, and the Netherlands. Others are from as close as Albany, NY, to across the U.S. Some follow for the fashion, some for the relationship advice, some for the straight-forward girl talk, some for the salacious gossip. I also have quite the contingency of male readers, and I think they're all perfect dolls and will make some woman very lucky, if they haven't already (there is a shout-out to my professors). The name probably gets me a few cheap hits, too, but I hope they maybe stay and read a post or two and learn something.

(My other creative-writing blog, Juxtaposition, mainly attracts stragglers, a few die-hard readers that I love to pieces, and my mother. Probably because posting there is sporadic at best, experimental by nature, and takes a real particular taste to handle.)

-Some people blog once a day. Some people blog or Tweet 5 times a day. Some once a week. Some once a month. I blog when I have something to say. It is my soapbox. The point is, you need to figure out what a realistic posting schedule is for you, and STICK TO IT. Realize that if you have readers, you have people that want to read new content, not what you posted two weeks ago. Or a month ago. People are needy. Readers are devoted and needy and can only re-read something so many times, even it's your most stunning material. If there is constantly nothing new, they're going to stop coming back. If there is something constantly new, as you know, curiosity killed the cat, but it also made the blog traffic numbers soar. That is how you build your readership and blog traffic-- by blogging frequently. In the most simple way I can put it, posting = success. Do know that frequency of posts means more interest, better site traffic, and more money.

Oh, did I say money?

-Most people are shocked to find out that I make money on my blog. Yes, it's percentages of cents for every visit and more for every clicked ad from Google AdSense, but it's money all the same. And I make it doing nothing other than what I love and what I want to write about, and just whoring out about an inch and a half by five inches of spare space on my page. Apparently, in the real world, this is the ideal gig for a writer. It may be baby-steps and just dollars and cents right now, but I'm told that this model of write and get paid is something like what we writers should inspire to in the bigger picture. Tim Brookes also has some great money-making ideas for your blog in his article, "Equally Worthless?", as well as some um, familiar subject matter and characters. And whatever your motives are coming here, you're supporting me, so thank you. When my blog dropped on campus and shit got hairy, other than the support of my friends, knowing that I was making some nice dough off of all the site traffic kept me going. And what do you know? Life's good now.

-Speaking of things getting a little crazy, how many of you would dare to blog about your friends? People on campus? Your boyfriend or girlfriend or the person you've been trying to wrangle into bed with you for the past month? For awhile after the Great Blogging Debacle of 2009, I was unsure of how, exactly, one goes about a sex and relationship blog without verbally lambasting people or naming very transparent nicknames. Then I grew up, got smart, and decided to try skipping intimate details in exchange for broad strokes of thought and pointed questions and posts based around things that were happening in my life. Though it was a massive learning experience, it made me a much better, and much more interesting and people-friendly, blogger. (Also, this is a huge mea culpa for that debacle right now.) How many of you would blog about hot button issues, the things that other people don't want to touch because of controversy? And I don't mean just politics or religion, here. I come under fire regularly from my own mother for blogging about "trashy" material. But like I tell her, excuse me, but I can't be the only one wondering why women seem to give and not receive oral as regularly as men do. There has to be SOMEONE else out there wondering the same thing that just doesn't have the guts to come straight out and ask about it.

-This brings up another huge issue to consider: Is your blog going to be private, or open? A private blog means that only the people you invite can view your content. An open blog means that the whole wide internet world can knock down your URL's door. For fellow writers, I really don't see what you could ever gain from having a private blog, when having an open one is the best way to get your writing published and out into the world for free, no agents or publications needed. Take chances. Defending yourself and your writing is one of the most fundamental things you can learn to do as a writer. Stephen Stills once said something that I think I have quoted on numerous occasions on this blog-- "There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature." And as we're quasi-feminist here, I think women should be allowed to do the same.

-I cannot stress this enough: FOLLOW OTHER BLOGS. Start an RSS feed either here on Blogger, on Wordpress, on whatever you want to, but read other blogs with similar content to yours. Not only does this keep you in touch with what is going on and what has already been written on the subjects you're interested in, it's a great way to get "soft news" and to see what people want to know more about. I follow over 50 blogs. And blog etiquette says that if someone follows your blog, you should check theirs out, too, and if it doesn't seem like something totally outside of your interests, follow theirs. This is a great way to build a follower base, and I really wish more people would do this.

-Mesh your blog with your other writing endeavors and projects. This will make multi-tasking, or rather, re-using content, much easier. When I was writing for Moss on the Moon and the Champlain Current, some of what I published on hard copy worked great as an easy, pre-written filler post here, no extra work or writing necessary. I'd encourage you to pick up writing projects outside of your blog to supplement both your skills and your content bank-- if you're still in college, writing for your school newspaper or a campus publication is a great place to start. Also, never underestimate the ability for class content to be created of a similar theme to your blog. Last semester, I wrote two 8-page papers for Women in 20th Century Fiction on Penelope and Odysseus's relationship in the Odyssey, and a paper for Renaissance Theory of Love on what Renaissance philosopher's theories and modern women's magazines have in common in regards to views on love, got two As, and am probably going to do some editing to shorten and tighten them up and post them here. If you're already a young professional, find writing competitions in your area and try to make a quick buck while you're at it; see if projects at work could overlap with your blog.

I hope that something in there got stuck with you to chew over-- if not, I've totally failed my goal. In the meantime, if you have any other questions or noticed topics about blogging that weren't covered, drop me a line, and I'll do my best to fill in the holes. Ciao-ciao until next time.

...And hey, DO you want to blog?

XOXO

Things Men Like

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Not Boring-- Just Grown Up.

This blog used to be a money-making machine. My daily hit count used to look like the Mafia toll from the '70s. I used to write about things like oral sex and porn. It was as good as 2 AM access TV and your own local Girls Gone Wild infomercials. And then I went through some major life changes, met a guy I actually liked and didn't want to kiss & tell, and went to Italy. The campus dish stopped. You had no idea who these people I was meeting and hanging out with were anymore. Page impressions dropped. I get it. We got older, grew apart, and stopped having things in common. Now I write about things like communication between the sexes and how to handle your past-and-still-present exes and why visiting a gynecologist is mandatory for women (and should be for the men they're having sex with, too). Not exactly what you signed up for. Gone are (most) of the hot sexploits. In with the analyses of character. It's a bitch, isn't it? Things change. It's inevitable. And right now, this blog could more rightly be called "Celibacy In The (Foreign) City."

But hey. I'm still here. I'm still alive; therefore, I still have things to write about. It may not be the perfect oral technique (hint: our clit is there for a reason. That is where the party is. Introduce your tongue to it,) but some of it is still pretty pertinent. Guys, if you want to learn why your girlfriend is mad at you, I've got some advice-- ASK HER. (Also, next time, don't be so blatant checking that other chick out.) There are things you can learn here that no other woman would ever tell you about. It's like hiding behind enemy lines. (Hey, that thought appealed to you and your inner pseudo-warrior, didn't it? I get you better than you may think.) And girls, if you want to know how to build your wardrobe up this summer to mix-and-match as many pieces as possible while maintaining a professional edge for work, I'm your girl. (Khaki light-weight trousers, cuffed at the bottom, with a slight paper-bag waist and worn belted and matching with brown wedges and a slightly edgy tucked-in button-down like this leopard-print one, is a great fashion-forward interview outfit. [I call it "Office Safari." Just don't shoot your boss, no matter how tempting it is. There's not much I can do with day-glow orange.] And that white lace shirt from last post goes great with the khakis as well, or, if you want to tough them up, a interesting and slinky tank-top tucked in does the trick, too. And that leopard button-down makes not only the perfect beach cover-up, too, but also a cute out-and-about outfit when paired with black leggings, sandals, and belted at the waist. Like this girl in the photo proves.)

I'm watching a lot of my friends get ready to graduate, and subsequently freak out about having to prove that they can do something in the field that they want to go into. I'm pretty lucky. I started this blog of my own desire, and over a year and a half earlier than is deemed necessary to graduate. And I genuinely love this writing. It's kind of what I want to do with my life. I found my niche early in life, and it would take a lot to pull me out of it. This is how I think. This is how I write. And for better or worse, this is how I live.

But there's always more that can be done. If you really want to do something, I have this crazy wish that by my birthday on June 10th, I will have 50 followers and have cashed in the $10 check from Google AdSense. I'm at 35 followers (and I love EACH and EVERY one of you!) and over half-way to the dollar amount, so-- tell your friends. Tell your boyfriend. Tell your girlfriend. Tell your coworkers. Tell your mom. (Um, or not.) Spread the word. Check back regularly for new stuff. Between leaving Italy in 31 days, adjusting back to the U.S and American men, moving into my first Big Girl apartment, buying a queen-size bed, and trying to find another job, I'm more than SURE I will have plenty of new material.

We have just under 2 months, people. I'm just asking for a small and personal minor miracle. Not the peace for the Pakistan-Israeli conflict and the end of world hunger. Though those are perfectly acceptable things, too.
...And a man who does not utter the words "We shall see," which, as some long-time (like, since the Beginning of Blogging Time) readers may know, may be one of my most hated phrases above all others, right after "But there's something I need to tell you." I get it-- I know what it means when you say that. It's roughly the trying-to-be-polite equivalent of "Not gonna happen, sister!" THAT would be a major miracle. In fact, Jesus may have to intervene.

XOXO

American Girls, or Why I Evidently Should Have Studied Abroad In Switzerland

Do you know that internet access is a human right in some countries? Not only does Switzerland consider it a human right, they also have some of the fastest broadband internet speeds in the world. Estonia, Greece, and France all consider internet access an inalienable human right.

So why, then, did I choose to come to Italy, land of the "Yeah, we'll get around to it...someday," public services and apparent lack of affection for making sure students studying abroad can like, I don't know-- actually keep up with their loved ones, do homework for online classes, and run blogs?

Monday night, I was laying in bed, streaming The Nanny (no judging), being generally happy, when it crapped out. I called the internet company the next day, and they told us it was a problem in the telephone lines (I believe it-- the entire neighborhood is holed up in the corner bar, the only place with functioning Wi-Fi in apparently, a 2 block radius,) and that they were leaning on the phone company to get it fixed. Great. The next day, I called back to check progress on the strong-arming. "A technician will be coming tomorrow, probably in the morning," I was told. Awesome. Thanks. Next morning, no show. Next-next morning, still no tech. An apartment full of 8 angry women. 6 angry guys above us. Peeved American students all up and down the block. And the only thing I can think the phone company is doing is sitting and rotating on their thumbs.

I'm sorry. I'm a little steamed. It wasn't so much of a big deal when I KNEW I didn't have internet, but now that I'm paying a REDICKULUS amount of money for it per month, I would really, really like to exploit it as much as possible. I would really like to be able to talk to the people at home that I miss. Like, reassure my parents that I'm ok and to ignore and not open my monthly bank statements, or to be able to make Spring Break plans with my roommates in Dublin. Potentially, even-- TRY TO FIND AN APARTMENT TO LIVE IN WHEN I COME BACK SO I AM NOT HOMELESS IN BURLINGTON.

Because do you know what internet-less American girls resort to for entertainment? It's nasty, nasty stuff, my friends. Retail therapy. Chainsmoking. Consuming entire bottles of wine, and starting to drink just after the sun reaches the zenith. Unsafe behavior. Risky road-crossing. Gelato addictions. Baked good and chocolate abuse. Spending horrific (HORRIFIC) amounts of money on new books to keep one's self occupied in lacking electronic pages. Talking to the local men. Taking far, far too much time to gaze at Michelangelo's David. (By far the hottest man in Florence. Those abs. Those buns. That...ball-sack. That's carved out of marble? Seriously? Seriously?)

While I am whining, let's insert a few other general complaints:
- I absolutely despise sleeping alone.
- The guy above me blasts “You are my everything, everything, everything, everything,” while having bed-post banging sex. This is why I do not sleep with bros. If I heard that song, I would be out of there before the end of the first chorus.
- I live in a madhouse. Please save me. Except for Alli, I never want to live with women again.
- I want a good beer like I want a fucking hard-on inside of me. And then, I think I want the beer more. Something tall, dark, full-bodied, with great head. And we’re still talking about the beer, here. Italy-- not a place for internet, or good beer.
- After seeing Avatar and beautifully joined-up alien/alien animal relationships, I really, really, miss Saph. This is the longest I have ever gone without seeing her. I am missing my other half, people.

If I make it back home alive, you have Robin to thank for the majority of this. He tried, really hard, to find me functional internet without the cost of a pint-and-a-half beer or banana and Nutella milkshake. He makes sure I am properly entertained and don't walk alone at night. He hears speeding mopeds before I do. And last night, he cooked dinner and got my Avatar ticket in advance. Along with the general fond company and lack of interest in each other, I think this is what an old marriage is like.

XOXO

Welcome "Juxtaposition"!

Like any good coin or Gemini, I've got two sides. One side revels in all things relationship, material, and shiny. The other side wants to suffer for her art and can't justify putting her creative writing in the same space as the writing that she loves to do for fun and pleasure.

Sometimes, one voice is louder than the other.

Because of this, I've created a twin-blog, Juxtaposition, for my more scholastic writing. (Yes; eight months a year, I am in classes designed to make me a better writer. Might as well have something to show for that 40-grand a year tution money. Some of what's created for class is actually passable enough for me to have designs for it.) Some of you close to me and with similar literary leanings may know, because it may have come up in conversations on favorite words and letters and the like, but I picked "Juxtaposition" because it's one of my favorite words. Also, I thought it worked well with the idea of having equal sides frivolous and fun and serious and striving.

Please check it out. It (purposefully, for the meaning of the title,) looks like SATCG's sullen older sister. At the moment, it's rather bare-bones, with four posts I've carried over from here: The Kitchen Bitches articles, the poetry post, and the recent "Snapshots". I have another poem that I wrote this evening that will be going up soon, and that will be published exclusively to Juxtaposition. (From now on, I won't necessarily be advertising what's new on "Jux," so if you like what you're reading, you may want to follow that blog, as well.)

For those of you worried about what this means for SATCG, have no fear. I absolutely adore what's happening here. I just need to stretch both of my writing wings, equally. I'm not just the Sex and the College Girl-girl; I'm also someone who reads Edward Abbey like a religion and thinks running away and getting back to nature is a viable option, a la "Into The Wild." As any Gemini such as myself will tell you, we need to feed both creative outlets and facets for ultimate happiness.

...Now, if I could just convince myself it's ok to bring those Tahari heels...

As always, thanks for your support and continued readership! And visit "Jux"!

XOXO

Ciao, Bellas!

Special announcement.

This little college girl was just accepted to study abroad at the Scuola Lorenzo de' Medici in Florence, Italy, this coming Spring Semester.

"Sex and the College Girl" will be going international, babies!

Fantastica!

Men of the world, watch out!

XOXO

P.S-- I will also be in Montreal this weekend. So close, yet so far to Miss Sarah. By like, all of Canada. :( But really-- look-- legitimately international!

P.P.S-- Sooooo manyyy exclamation points...

I Promise.

I am going down to the boardwalk overlooking the river to smoke a cigarette. When I come back, I will go straight to work on a blog post. I promise.

The best part is that it's so humid and muggy here that I honestly cannot be bothered to actually put real clothes on, so I'm going out in boy's soccer shorts, a college t-shirt, flip-flops, and a messy pony-tail. No one would recognize me now except for the people I went to elementary school with when this was my basic uniform. Maybe I'll be mistaken for a local townie and get hit on by the high-school drop-out boys that affix NASCAR emblems to their 1990's trucks. Oh, the pleasure! I am almost embarrassed to be seen with myself.

But really, one bad, nasty little cigarette and then I'm back and to business. I promise!

XOXO

"Business As Usual" Meets "Girl At Play".

First of all, I would love to send a very big, very warm “thank you” to Miss Molly Ford, the genius behind http://www.smartprettyandawkward.com/ . I started reading “Smart, Pretty, and Awkward” last semester, and it quickly became a daily thing. As you may have gathered by now, I may not be the most tactful person, and Molly’s tips, hints, and advice smooth out my rough Vermont girl edges quite nicely. (There are even rumors about integrating me back into normal society shortly!) Running a blog is never an easy thing—I wish I could convey to you what comments, page views, and feedback mean to (especially a new-comer like) me, but unless you blog as well, it’s hard to comprehend. When someone does you a solid, as Molly did for me today by featuring me on her blog, I only know one way to respond: heart-felt public appreciation. I swear to god, if you don’t already, start reading http://www.smartprettyandawkward.com/ EVERY DAY. It doesn’t even matter if you already have the social graces of an English aristocrat—if you’re a quote-whore like me, the quote headings each day will fill you with glee, too. So, thank you, Molly.

Second order of business: It has been brought to my attention, frequently, by numerous people, that my blog posts tend to be a little long to get through. The person who may have said it best would be my trainer Alli (not to be confused with my roommate, Alli,) back at home. I believe the comment was, “And you said Stephenie Meyer should be shot for killing trees.” Granted, I publish electronically and the only reason Alli was getting the printed-out version of my blog was because she doesn’t have internet access (yes! Places like that, where high-speed internet can’t even be brought to exist, especially in the Northeast!), but I get the point. (Apparently it totaled more than forty pages. Yikes.) I will try to get to-the-point in a more condensed manner in the future.

Another Alli, Alli The Roommate, started a wonderful Facebook group after being goaded to it by some rather wonderful people; namely, Yours Truly. “I Dated A Douchebag” is a group where survivors, regardless of gender, orientation, or level of significant other’s douchebaggery, can go to rant, rave, plot, and sympathize with other ex-victims. Here’s a link to the group—if you have something you feel you can contribute, be it an ironic, blood-boiling, or he-got-his-comeuppance story or if you need someplace to be the Crazy Bitch or Crazy Bastard you never let your Douchebag see, please visit and/or join. We love new people. (Some of us more than others.)” I Dated A Douchebag”: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=105042186747&ref=mf&__a=1

And I think that’s all for Bloggery Business, so I will get back to working on the next two columns I have in the works, and your previously scheduled programming. It looks like you can check back within the next twelve hours for a column on tips, hints, tricks and anecdotes about being the most stellar girlfriend (or boyfriend) your significant other has ever known, as well as another column on what is happening in the Perfect world, as people (even other than myself!) are starting to get confused. Plus, some recent developments on the Hostage Relationship front have panned out, so we have to delve into that, right? (Dear readers—holding a relationship hostage—it apparently works! Shocked, rather pleasantly.)

Until then, keep your pants on and stay close to your monitor. Also, tell your friends about this blog, really. I’m an attention-whore, if not any other type of whore. (I am also not shy, or shy about complete strangers knowing the inner-workings of my love-life, or lack thereof.)

XOXO