A few months ago I went on two rather awkward dates with a perfectly nice, but rather strange dude. When he texted me to hang out for a third time, I found myself making up an excuse: “My friends are in town for the weekend -sorry!”
When he texted again a week later, I said I was “going home to visit family.”
And then a third time, I had an “emergency” to deal with. Finally by the fourth time, I gave up and didn’t even answer back. You might ask…
My first crush, at five, was John Smith. Yes, I’m talking about John Smith from Pocahontas. The first person I wanted to marry was Harrison Ford- I used to watch Indiana Jones movies obsessively. After realizing that the last 5 guys I had dated/hooked up with were all white, light hair, with light eyes, it dawned on me:
My Irooni friends constantly make fun of me for my tendency for the blonde, blue-eyed dudes, one even calls it my “wonder bread addiction.” What makes white boys (aka “wonderbread”) fun to date compared to Persian guys?
1. They are attracted to you:
Everyone wants to feel special, when your culture and background is something a guy doesn’t know about, suddenly there is a lot more he can ask and get to know about you.
Teaching him about your culture, introducing him to Iranian food, and talking about different traditions is a fun way to get to know someone. Feeling desired and special is a huge turn on (and a bit addictive), and if a guy respects you enough to learn about you and your culture, then why not use it to have fun?
2· No Drama:
Persian Girls get a bad rep for having gossip and drama ridden lives. Why don’t we ever talk about all the gossip that happens between Persian guys? From having their egos bruised easily, to getting into feuds with friends over ridiculous things. No thank you.
3· Can you relax?
I’m a pretty laid back girl, I don’t need to go to fancy restaurants or clubs to have a good time. While some Persian guys will throw a fit if their water doesn’t have ice, American guys can just relax. Want to go camping? They will take you camping, can you imagine if some of the Persian guys you know went camping? He would bring his hair gel and moisturizers.
Hey joon joons,
TOMORROW IS FRIDAY!
And despite the fact that I’m freezing balls here – I can’t wait for the freakin weekend so I can spend the weekend under 100+ blankets. Granted, it’s the “Pro-Life Rally” tomorrow, which means I’ll have to avoid eye contact with everyone and ignore the horrifying pictures of dead fetuses – while I believe in the freedom of speech … I still believe in the freedom of choice. BUT it’s still going to be Friday so I’ll keep my complaints to a minimum.
ANYWAY – I decided to bring the conversation back to sex tonight because in my opinion…
Okay maybe that’s a bit extreme.
As the story always goes – I met a guy… we liked each other and we eventually, had sex. Done.
But this time was quite different than any other time – and let me try to explain… as with a lot of my sexual (and dating) experiences, I call the shots. I tell them when I’m going to go on top, when they’re on top, where to put their hands, and more.
I’m quite the micro-manager in all aspects of my life.
Especially with my dating history, it’s always me directing – or letting them know what I like… or at least, that’s what it feels like.
Hihi joonies,
Happy Monday! (oxymoron I know). My family is visiting me this week and it’s been just great… granted my pants don’t fit me anymore – and it’s only been two days. #controlproblems
It doesn’t exactly help when my dad keeps telling me that I eat like a monster and that one day, I’m going to get very fat if I’m not careful. But then I look at my mom’s skinny ass and just hope that I got her genes.
Anyway, read Saaghi’s latest post? (click here).
Like Saaghi said, before we give up the v card – it”s all about the kissing. First kisses are probably one of the most nerve-wrecking moments in our adolescent years. I personally, was chugging my Irooni-estyle Capri Sun (aka aab anar) as if it were going to somehow transform me into an amazing kisser.
We think of sex as this hugely monumental, intimate action between two people — and while it is, sometimes sex is just sex. I’ve encountered this stereotype where guys think that I am somehow going to develop intimate emotions toward them if we are having sex.
And while sex is intimate no matter how you feel about the person – there are different levels of intimacy:
1. Naked Intimacy: You’re intimate because you are naked together. They are seeing you differently than most people would – literally. And that is where it ends – emotions are limited because you’re intimacy solely rests on the fact that you’re about to have this person inside of you and frankly, your interest ends there.
2. Blatant Intimacy: You care for your partner and you want the world to see – or rather, you just don’t care who sees you groping your man’s sac. I personally, hate these people.
3. Intimacy: Caring for someone and sharing those emotions with them through your actions – whether it’s sex or picking up their laundry without bitching about it.
HAPPY FRIDAY! AKA FREEDAY!
Fridays are the best days of the week, because its usually an easy day at work (its casual in every sense of the word), people are in better moods… and I can sit at my desk, stare at my computer and just contemplate LIFE.
or penguins.
Today, I was thinking about Kissing.
No one hits a home run without at least going for first base. (question: is kissing still first base?) And so much of intimacy really is… boos boosing, or making out, OR frenching, or whatever you want to call it. A lot of people remember their first kiss and for some, it was with someone they really liked.
For me, I don’t really remember or attach that much significance to the first kiss. It happened much later for me, at the end of high school, but I’m really hazy on the exact way it happened and if there was tongue involved or not? There were no fireworks or sparks, I assure you. But I will tell you joonies this, ever since I started kissing, I haven’t wanted to stop.
A good kiss can really turn you on, and it can make you a memorable hook up. A bad kiss will make the other person run for the hills– no matter how hot you are, or how great your personality is. There is no set formula on how to be a good kisser, but there are some common DO’s and common DON’T's. Continue reading
Hola,
2012 is winding down, and I almost can’t believe it. How does time fly? New Years is always an appropriate time for reflection (cliche but inevitable) and I’ve been thinking more about myself, 10 years ago… It might be because my Pandora is set to 90s music? But when you’re 18, you can’t really reflect on what it was like when you were 8. Now I’m at that age, where I remember what it was like 10, 8, 5 years ago. I remember why I thought the way I did, and why I did the things I did. And with all those memories– I can’t help but feel weird. Is that what happens when you get old– your younger self starts to become a bigger shadow?
Anyway, the more I think about Saaghi circa early 2000s, I realize I haven’t confessed something that really haunted/dogged me for most of those years: My Body.
It’s no secret that Persians are very vocal about weight — “topol” (chubby) is a word that’s just tossed around, almost endearingly, but for a 13 year old girl– that word is damaging.
At least that’s how I felt about it. As a kid, I was never aware of what my body looked like to others. But when I hit puberty, and I had chipmunk cheeks, I was growing boobs, and I was all sorts of awkward–well, I became very aware of what my body looked like from the outside.
Hello,
I am so hungover from my Company holiday party that its painful to even use my brain, so I’m sorry if this post is a little… elementary. Can you believe it’s already December? and I have no vacation plans. Oh, adulthood has even sucked the joy out of the holidays.
Do you know what else sucks the fun out of the holidays?
Having to see all the people you usually try to avoid.
Its true– at the family parties, mehmoonis, etc– everyone is there, because there is no excuse for missing the occasion. People are home from college, people have off from work, there’s enormous amounts of food; essentially, its like being held hostage at an All-You-Can-Eat buffet.
So basically, holidays sometimes turn into an Annual Review. I hear about everyone’s life: where they’re at, what’s going on, who they’re sleeping with, where they last vacationed, etc. It’s an exchange of information from the span of one year compacted into one conversation. And what happens is you’re forced to pause and evaluate yourself, especially in comparison to who you’re talking to.
That brings up a lot of feelings. And sometimes, its jealousy.
And you know, I feel bad. I think jealousy gets a bad rep. People think its the ugliest word, and being a “jealous person” is not taken to be a good thing. But its actually a pretty basic instinct, if you think about it.
Hey Joonies,
It’s been a long day. I’m tired. I just went on a cleaning rampage and now I feel like my entire body reeks of bleach. But shit needs to get done – ya feel me?
All I want to do tonight is relax and laugh.
I’m going to pretend like I wasn’t planning to go for a run tonight – ugh why is running so hard? Better question is, why is it so much easier to eat something like this:
Bomb
My type in food is … NO DISCRIMINATION – I love it all – minus the weird stuff, like cow tongue, cow BALLS, kalehpacheh, and all the weird shit our culture claims is okay to eat.
When it comes to dating, my type is starting to become more of a disappointment/ball buster than a night well spent.
I’m not really sure what the appeal is in that — wish I could say that they’re really packing it (if ya know what I mean). But the reality is they’re equally lacking in that area.
#khaktosarem / #mommyissues?
JOONS,
So this might be my last post … forever because “Hurricane Sandy” is planning to make an appearance to the East Coast and I might drown. Okay – maybe not so dramatic, but I don’t really do well with rain. So excuse me while I play the victim card and plan for a simpler life in sunny CALI.
Outside my house in CALIFORNIA
Enough of that — I don’t know what it is, but whenever I’m actually having sex, I don’t really feel the need to talk about it. It’s when I’m not having sex that I’m like OMG remember when…
And that’s exactly how I’m feeling tonight – I need to get some ass in my life and who knows why the f#ck it’s not happening. I remember when I first started having sex — I was very pro-missionary. And not because I thought it felt so ahhhh-mazing, but because I was too shy to do anything else.
Hi joonies,
Three day weekends bring meaning to my life. I was very fortunate to be able to go see Salman Rushdie speak tonight — hilarious guy, especially when he talked about “fucking”– but he definitely didn’t turn me on. Instead, he got me thinking about all the awkward sex moments I’ve had. (badbakht)
The kind of sex that you spend the rest of the week fantasizing about because it was just that great.
Sometimes sex with someone ends up being one of those memories you cringe at every time you think about it — the kind of sex where you wake up the next day like “ughhh fuck.”
Not that I’ve had a LOT of sex or anything (because I’m a virgin… obviously), but I’ve definitely learned a few valuable lessons along the road to successful sex/oral.
Sex it up
1. CLOSE YOUR EYES. (applies to oral mostly).
Personally, I don’t have experience with this, but that’s because I’m lucky that people like to give details (no matter how well they know me– awkward moments brings people together). I’ve been lucky to learn from THEIR mistakes.
And I’m mostly grateful because not only, does this sound weird and kind of gross, but it shit supposedly hurts too.
I’ve come to realize that guys can’t really direct their fluids on where to go. Sure, they can move their doodool-tala to the side if they’re thinking ahead. But how many guys actually think ahead? And if you’re not really down with the whole excess protein in your mouth thing, then you probably jerk your head off the tip the second you hear, “I’m gonna come.” (let’s hope they give you the warning).
Listen, semen can seriously fly sometimes. I mean, it can shoot up high and if you’re not careful, it can get in your eye.
