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Grace DeVoll is currently working as an assistant on a TV show about superheroes, and sometimes confusing it with real life. When she isn't pretending she's Wonder Woman, she enjoys making lists, late night adventure-driving, and dressing up like a princess. You can follow her on twitter @offtothegraces, which would really make her day, or learn more about her here.
Like many other mid-twenties bachelorettes with a summer birthday and a few post-college years under her belt, I have recently begun to experience the phenomenon that is Wedding Instagram Overload. As in, my friends and/or distant acquaintances are popping the questions and the marriage cherries (maraschino, soaked in fine bourbon and used as a garnish, perhaps?) all over the Internet. It happened for the first time, last year, on my 24th birthday: my worst frenemy from high school took my birthday and turned it into her goddamn wedding anniversary.
And that was when I realized that the next ten years of my life, minimum, and by extension, birthday (parties), are about to be overshadowed and under-appreciated because SUMMER IS WEDDING SEASON AND SOMEONE IS GOING TO BE GETTING MARRIED ON MY BIRTHDAY EVERY YEAR, AND THAT’S WAY MORE IMPORTANT THAN MY STUPID NON-MILESTONE OF A BIRTHDAY. To make things worse, I wasn’t invited.
Sure enough, it happened again this year. An old friend turned acquaintance–you know how these things go, people drift apart when they don’t have frat parties at which to run into each other and casually high five a few times per month!–got married this time, and I was much happier to let him have my birthday as a wedding anniversary. Again, I was not invited. There must have been some mistake! We ate vegetarian food together at that restaurant one time! Cue: FOMO.
I decided I had to find a way to deal with this, and have since compiled the following list of coping mechanisms, because desperate times call for desperate measures, and also I am a writer, so.
Friendsies. Since we all got proverbially drunk together last week, I’ve received mixed feedback regarding a few of my playlists. While some of you were like:
Others were a little less enthused about my attitude towards alcohol:
Which meant that this week, in the name of equality, I made a counter-drunk playlist. So, for those of you who prefer guys like this:
It’s time to blaze! Naked! In a bed! Then free associate a little! If you think smoking marijuana before sex sounds totes amaze, please enjoy this list of tunes to which you can get stoned, get laid (by Aaron Paul? HA JK YOU WISH HE’S MINE FOREVER), get giggly, get sleepy, get woken up with a joint in your face, get more stoned, get… oops I forgot what I was saying. Where were we? Oh yeah. Music.
Whether it be pounding beers or sippin’ on Moet Chandon, most humans (over the age of 21 or 18 if you’re in Europe!) enjoy the occasional sip or more of alcohol. Many humans also use alcohol to pregame for sexual experiences, as alcohol prevents questions such as “Have I shaved my ladytown recently?” and “Is this guy cute or am I just bored?” and “Have we met?” from inhibiting our confidence, and also makes us feel:
… which often makes us want to get naked and do stuff with other naked people. Like sex. So, in the name of consensually inebriated lovemaking, have a beer or 1-5 cocktails (HAHA?!) and hopefully some orgasms.
“It’s like a crime scene in my pants.”
Menstruation: it happens. Period sex? It happens too. Whether it happens intentionally or accidentally, on the newly-washed sheets, in the steaming hot shower, or atop the kitchen counter, is up to you. But it f’sho def totes happens. And it can be really great! Especially if you remember to put a towel down!
*WAIT PAUSE QUICK PSA REALLY FAST: If YOU aren’t into having sex on your period, that’s fine. But if you aren’t having sex on your period because HE isn’t into you when you’re bleeding out le vagine, then whoever you’re having sex with is a gross misogynist with no appreciation for the female body and you should dump him immediately and find someone who wants you like a hungry (but loving!) vampire, regardless of what time of the month it is!*
Back to the playlist. Inspired by the scene in No Strings Attached AKA THE BEST ROM-COM OF ALL TIME in which Ashton Kutcher delivers a “Casual” Period Mix to Natalie Portman, I’ve attempted to invoke both visual and gustatory imagery, in case touching + listening to dirty songs about blood doesn’t quite do it for you.
You can listen to the entire playlist on Spotify by clicking here or click on each individual song to listen:
Motivation by Kelly Rowland (ft. Lil Wayne) from the album Motivation. “Uh, girl I turn that thing into a rainforest / Rain on my head, call that brainstorming.” h/t Jessica Donalds for knowing how to get us in the mood.
Continuing last week’s trend of self-celebration and immaturity, let’s get downer and dirtier with ourselves this weekend, shall we? I, for one, like things to be exactly the way I want them. While this occasionally causes trouble during sex between TWO people, I never seem to have a problem when I’m flying solo. In fact, I know few greater pleasures in life than those I am capable of giving myself. ERGO: I made a masturbation playlist. So get into your bathtub, turn on the faucet, surround yo’self with bubbles n’ bath oils, and open your legs to the sweet sounds of self-love.
You can listen to the entire playlist on Spotify by clicking HERE or click on each individual song to listen:
In tribute to toys that often do better than men, Vibrate by Outkast from the album Speakerboxxx/The Love Below.
Young Brave Me by The Preatures from the album Shaking Hands. Let the self love begin.
Because for all you guys know, my birthday wishes came true last week and I’ve been rolling around naked in banana pancakes and maple syrup every morning since last Saturday. (Just kidding, that would totally ruin the carpet in my apartment.)
Morning sex is beneficial for boosting both mood and metabolism, and therefore should be encouraged by having playlists made about it.
You can listen to the entire playlist on Spotify by clicking HERE or click on each individual song to listen:
To start things off, a morning sex classic: Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson from the album In Between Dreams.
Between Sheets by Imogen Heap from the album Ellipse.
Like Blair Waldorf, I fully believe I am the star of my own life movie. Here’s to my hot sex scene!
Because it’s my birthday tomorrow, and what kind of immature, self-absorbed, almost 24 year old would I be if I didn’t make this whole week entirely about myself? Below is a compilation of songs that I would be willing to listen to/have sex to while celebrating the moment when (10 hours of labor, sorry Mom!) I wiggled my way, crying and bloody, out of the trappings of my mother’s womb and onto our beautiful planet.
You can listen to the entire playlist on Spotify by clicking HERE or click on each individual song to listen:
First and foremost, a birthday classic: It’s My Party (…and I’ll Cry If I Want to) by Ingrid Dumosch from the album Party Songs for Girls Age Nine. Yes, I listen to albums for nine year olds. Yes, it is my party. And I will probably cry, whether or not I want to, because I do that every year.
Friends. Last week we lost our collective and proverbial playlist virginity. Together. It was special. You feel different. I feel different. Deep and meaningful feelings were felt. So now I feel obligated to lighten the mood. Weekend flings over diamond rings, casual sex to match your casual clothes for summer. Here are some tunes to which you can casually do it.
Babes. Dudes. Belated Breaking News: Dating & Hookup is on Spotify. For a few weeks now, but we’ll keep telling you because repetition is beautiful and because maybe you were camping or on a yoga retreat a few weeks ago and didn’t get our first announcement. Some sexy summer tunes have already been assembled for you, but in this day and age of constant consumption and communication, we know “seasonal favorites” don’t actually last a whole season.
THEREFORE: More playlists must be made. This time they’re sex themed. Every Friday we’ll present you with a new sexual suggestion slash weekend playlist to blast while you road trip to Bonetown, USA.
Dear National Security Administration,
First and foremost, I’d like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on your recent successes in obtaining the private and deeply personal information of 99.9% of the American public. While I, personally, have neither the political inclination nor the stamina – I have been known to max out after a mere four episodes of The West Wing – to organize and execute an act of terrorism against our great nation, I do hope the fruits of your labor blossom into large, ripe mangoes. Mangoes that bear striking resemblance to Scarlett Johanssen’s breasts.
I mention Scarlett Johanssen’s breasts because they activate my greater Bartholin glands and send torrents of liquid down the sides of my vagina, causing them to weep like The Wall that guards the Seven Kingdoms on a hot summer day. But you already know that because you saw my Google searches for naked pictures of Scarlett. Which is totally fine with me! I’m obviously not a terrorist, and I obviously want you to catch the people who are. We’re on the same side. Friendsies!
And since we’re friends, I just want to clear up a few things you may have seen.
Ladies,It’s almost summer. Memorial day happened. We grilled. We remembered. We looked down at ourselves in our bathing suits and thought “okay, there’s still a little time to fix this.” And now it’s time to look forward. Winter is coming, but not for another 6ish months, depending on where you live, and how much your place of employment cranks the air conditioning inside. So, in the spirit of sunscreen, sandals, and sexcapades, we at Dating & Hookup recommend that you carpe effing diem / get tan while you still can.
Introducing: Dating & Hookup on Spotify. Where we shall celebrate summer, emphasize the power of the vagina, make women want to dance, etc.
That’s it, I’m through with this nonsense. I’m quitting cold turkey. (I just deactivated all of my online dating profiles).
Why? Because my online dating future is going nowhere. In the 6(ish) months that I’ve been playing the online dating game, I have gone on one date. One. It was totally pleasant! But I slow-faded and didn’t call back because a) I’m a big fat chicken and b) I’m not as invested in finding my soulmate as I am in watching Melrose Place on Netflix. Since then, I’ve scheduled six dates, and bailed on all of them because a) I’m exceptionally lazy and b) nine times out of ten, it’s not meant to be, and rejection/being rejected are things I like to avoid.
dahGRAMS
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