The Lost Plum…

Yup. Brace yourself, here it comes: the virginity post!

Now unless my father asks this post is about me losing my virginity. If he asks this is a guest post by some dirty sinner! (Shame on you dirty sinner!)

People who know me are always surprised when the topic of “first times” comes up, and age is thrown on the table.

I was a late bloomer, not as late as other people I know, but to the masses I probably am.

I lost my virginity to “firstguy” when I was 19. There was nothing particular exciting, special or interesting about that evening, except I was 19. It was my birthday.

FACT: This is NOT the reason I dislike celebrating my birthday.

We were in my parent’s basement watching a movie. Braveheart, I only remember the movie cause ‘firstguy’ had a love for watching the same movies over and over again. Braveheart was one of these. I’ve seen that movie far more times then I would like to admit. (Far too many in like a two-year period)

Somewhere between Mel Gibson speaking with a Scottish accent and someone dying we had sex.

That is all I remember. No real detail about what was said or what was done, we just did more than the usual. And at that time more then the usual meant sex.

You always hear about sex hurting, and being painful and all that jazz. I don’t clearly remember that but if my memory serves me correctly I’d like to say that my first time as a girl didn’t hurt, or at least it didn’t cause me pain. But it was uncomfortable.

Kind of like when you tie your shoe too tight. You know that it doesn’t feel right, it’s alittle uncomfortable and it hurts to walk the first few steps, you know you just sense that something you did might not be right. But after that it loosens up and it’s like nothing wrong ever happened.

SIDEBAR: That analogy sounded cleaner in my head.

So there it was I was 19. One year older. I could vote, drink, and I wasn’t a virgin.

‘Firstguy’ was terrible at alot of things. Gifts were one of them, unless you count flowers. That boy bought me more flowers than Kiefer Sutherland buys rounds of shoots.

It was my birthday (and my first time) and all my boyfriend got me was cake, a Mr.Bean teddy-bear, Mel Gibson and a broken hymen.

My pal Simone wrote a great post a while back on what she finds sexy in a man.  And its had me thinking…….

11 TOTALLY SWOON WORTHY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT GUYS!

1.   Body Hair.  Now I’m not talking Chewbacca crawling out of your shirt attacking your face body hair. Just normal guy hair.  There is something really calming to me about the feel of arm hair, leg hair, chest hair, and so on. It’s manly and wonderful. Also, guys in general have great hair on their heads. It’s always full (for some), soft, unprocessed, and clean. (Unless they are bald or product whores I love touching a guys head of hair)

2.  Smell.  I heart a manly smell. That sweaty, musky, manly smell is something that should never be covered up. Well to a point, at some point you better be showering.  And then don’t even get me started on how great a showered guy smells.

3.  The 5 o’clock shadow. Hot damn, and oh so sexy. I even love the feel of it. Pure sex appeal dripping from tiny hair follicles, swoon indeed!

4.  Humor, hilarity, and absurdity.  Guys are funny. They just are! (when they aren’t funny it really makes my skin crawl, there needs to be an island for really unfunny men to just go and live) Guys are really good at finding the humor in a situation, and are the best for just wanting to joke around with.  They are able to poke fun at almost anything and especially themselves, and that to me is swoon worthy.

5.  Height.  I’m sorry for all those guys out there that aren’t tall. I’m sure it works for you and you’re sexy in other ways. BUT there is something extremely sexy about a guy who is taller then you.  The way you feel held while being hugged is pure awesome. Also it comes in handy for reaching things, holding umbrellas, and changing light bulbs.

6.  Balls! (both literally and figuratively) Guys push themselves and follow through. Yes there are some cowards out there but as a sex men are taught to well for lack of a better term “man up”. It’s about survival, and all things primal are HOT.  And since we are on the topic: Actual in my hand hanging down balls! Yes, physical balls!  It’s sexy to me that one of the most fragile parts of the man is just hanging out there. They carry the future of the human race in there and it’s so vulnerably put out on display, and I’m sorry but that is awesome.

7.  Problem solving.  Now I’m not talking being a “mr. fix-it” here, I’m talking life problems.  Guys always have a different take on things, a different way of looking a problem and then helping you either reach a solution. This isn’t always the best trait in men, but when I have a problem and I talk about it with a guy I come out with a different outlook in general, and always feeling very confident in what to do next.

8.  Muscles. Guys carry muscle tone so much better then girls. From arms, and backs, to shoulders and legs. Oh, and you better not get me started on those diagonal dents that run from the hipbone to the groin, jeeze louise those are hot.

9.  A Smile.  When a guy smiles at me it warms my heart.   It’s almost like they are opening up in a completely different way. Even a good smirk makes me giddy like a schoolgirl. Please note this does not apply to guys with nasty ass teeth, I really have a teeth issue, you have bad teeth you are just unsexy period. Seriously. I mean it.

10.  Penis!  Now I’m going to just put this out there: some are much more swoon worthy then others (MUCH MORE) but I’ll give all you guys the benefit of the doubt.  A nice penis is like boobs: you can never go wrong!

11.  Knowledge.  Guys know things that I don’t. Everyone is smart in his or her own way; about their own topics (even the real dumb kids) I love how I learn things from guys I never would have thought of. New things, ideas, and topics excite me. Excite me right out of my pants!

A few nights back I was having a DM conversation with @SimoneGrant on twitter, and telling her about the mysterious text messages I was receiving from a number I did not recognize.

FACT: If there is an award for best/most 140character DM conversations @simonegrant and I (@lostplum) would win! Seriously!

Now I knew two things about the texter on the other end. It was clearly a man, and clearly he wanted to see what I was up to.

SIDEBAR: I was up to stuffing my face with pudding and on the couch cathing up on my dvr still in my gym clothes from earlier.

Now like any of my friends (or even you my readers) might do, she jumped to the conclusion that it must be some random guy I’ve given my number to at some point.  She even offered up a few suggestions (she has clearly been out drinking with me) I tend to pretty much give my number to any seaming normal person.  I do this because I find it fun to play the “I bet he texts me (—)”  game, which I have become, VERY VERY good at!  I can pretty much give a guy my number after talking for about 30-minutes and tell you exactly what he will text me and when (or at least really close) If I ever entre another beauty (scholarship fund) competition again in my life that will be my talent.

But this isn’t a post about my talents (that would be far to long) this is a blog about the text I hate the most.  So I finally figure out who the boy is. And we are chatting.

Friend who has a crush on me: “How’s your night going?”

Plum: “ Not bad. How about yours?”

Friend with crush:  “Ok, but why don’t you come and make it better.”

And there it was THAT message.  That “come over and make ME better”, “want to make IT better” text. I f-ing hate that text!

Let me tell you something guys you have a much better chance of A: getting me to hang out with you and B: getting to feel “better” if you just ask in a nice friendly matter if I want to have a drink, or grab a late dinner. Seriously, dude! It’s already past 10pm, I already know what you are hitting at you don’t have to be slimy about it.

It’s not “cute” and it’s not getting me off my couch it’s making me so much “BETTER” then you are!

A purple spider, Punky Brewster, a tiger, and a ninja turtle all have one thing in common.  These are all things I have been for Halloween.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays.  I mean candy, costumes, drinking, and did I mention candy. What’s not to love!  It’s also the only holiday, which isn’t ‘family’ centered, maybe that is why we all love it!

Halloween is like over 200 years old and in my opinion maybe the most over commercialized and marketed holidays.  But more then that Halloween is over sexual.  It could be called “National Slut Day”. 

As Halloween draws upon us, all I see left right in center is slut attire. I was at the drug store buying tissues and cough drops and right next to the checkout were fishnets! (seriously?!)

Halloween is synonymies with cleavage, legs, and frankly sex. And females are mainly to blame (lame!).  Women dress in provocative garments to in most cases draw sexual attention and advances from men. Now I’m not saying anything is wrong with that but I think it’s gone a little far.  (this is where all my male readers which is about 90% of you chime in and say “hell no it hasn’t gone to far!”)

Halloween offers the opportunity to dress as anything at all and in true spirit dress as you something you really want to be.  Now I don’t know about you but I sure wasn’t telling everyone growing up in my sexy-school girl uniform that I wanted to be a prostitute.

I have never really dressed ‘sluty’ on Halloween so I can’t really judge can I.  In fact the costume I plan on wearing tomorrow is maybe my most sexy to date. And it’s not even that risky. In fact I traveled to many of the pop-up costume stores this city is filled with at this time in search of ‘additions’ to my costume. 

SIDEBR:  While at the costume store I over heard one girl tell her friend she should go as a prostitute because guys stick money in your boobs all night so it’s a win win!  (my eyes rolled, and I am rolling them again)

My costume this year needed alittle extra, and by little extra I mean 2-3 inches.  See in the spirit of National Slut day ever costume sold for women pretty much sits on your ass.  I mean maybe if you are a size 0 with no ass these lengths are appropriate but I grew up with my mother, who as soon as something went over the knee she raised a silently judging eyebrow.

StoreWorker:  Need help?

Me:  No I’m just looking for something, thank you.

StroreWorker:  Something in mind?

Me: Well, yeah actually I need something this colour or to match this.  (pulling out costume from my bag)

StoreWorker:  Are you looking for the same one? What’s wrong wit this one?

Me: It’s too short I need to add material to the bottom. Add more skirt.

StoreWorker: WHY?! 

Me: (laughing) It’s too short.

StoreWorker:  That’s how you get us guys to notice you. It’s sexy. You ain’t picking up if you ain’t showing leg.

Me: Honey, I was covered from head to toe and then some last year and I still had sex in the bar bathroom with a hot sailor. 

StoreWorker: (silent) Damn Girl!

It’s not about what you wear, it’s about how you wear it.  It’s about being confident in your own body, and I guess if most of us need that little “it’s ok it’s a holiday” excuse then I’m all for it.  Just make sure you have the confidence before you go throwing a mask over it. So embrace your sexy self and put on a costume or don’t it doesn’t matter. Just be comfortable in you, and the rest will fall into place.

MamaPlums advise for Halloween this year: “Play safe with others, and don’t accept candy or other ‘goodies’ from homeless men on the street. Oh and wear a hat you’re going to have cold weather”

PapaPlum left me a voice mail the other night with the following costume recommendation:  “You should go as someone who HAS received their flu shot. Hint hint.” (insert his laughter)

FACT: Sexy Sailor and I ‘dated’ for about 5 weeks after Halloween.  I didn’t even remember putting my number in his phone.  But I did…..that’s another story for a much later time.

I live in New York City!  The big apple, Gotham, The City that Never Sleeps.  It’s a pretty great place to live. It’s got a lot of “bests” going for it. However, it just might be the “worst” city for doing the WALK OF SHAME.

You can’t hop in a car and drive yourself to your front door.  You have to walk down flights of stairs or get in elevators with other people.  You can walk home, walk to the subway, or wait on the corner hand out for a cab.

In NYC there are just more people to witness the shame you are walking away from. (even when it’s not shameful) For most people walking usually becomes the main exit strategy.  Cabs are great, but early in the morning trying to get one while you draw stares from everyone around plus the extra cost sometimes just isn’t worth it.

One time I was seeing this guy and I spent most of the day sleeping and hanging out at his apartment (he went to work very early and I would usually leave later) just so I could wait for it to be later into the afternoon so I could maybe pull off going to an event rather then be making my way home in the early am in black tie attire.  (I even called in sick to work)

But we can’t always hide and sometimes we just have to own our silliness and our ‘shameful’ choices.

About a year ago I was leaving a guys apartment in order to get home, change/shower, and hopefully make it to work in time.  I was making my way around the hallway and I see six work guys doing construction on the doorway/entrance.  SIX GUYS! What’s a girl to do?

“Fuck it” I thought to myself and I walked right towards them. It was like they all turned their heads at the same time, I could feel the eyes and thoughts start to form on their faces.  So I did what any girl in my position should do.  I owned it!  I raised my hands and surrendered.  “Walk of shame” I announced as I flashed a little smile, “Walk of shame!”

Next thing you know I’m high-fiving all six guys as they hold the door for me and I made my way out into the city.  I might add it was cold and raining. I was dressed in gold open toe shoes and a cocktail dress at 8am….oh and I was late for work.