Sex: Moaning vs Screaming

Have you ever heard this stupid question often asked among men? "Is she a moaner or a screamer?" Why is it supposed to be either/or? Personally, I can't imagine any woman not moaning at some stage of sex; foreplay, in particular. Screaming does seem to be far less common and, while I do scream during (good) sex, it's usually only during orgasm and only when the orgasm is just too damned powerful to keep quiet.

But why is it either/or? If a woman is just moaning during an orgasm, this suggests to me that the orgasm ain't all that special. If she's quiet during foreplay, this suggests to me that foreplay sucks. Seriously, who doesn't both moan and scream? Surely all of you have done both in the same sex session at least once -- if not always? Come on, tell us.

Do you scream, moan or both?

xx Isabella

The Big A-ha Moment

Have you ever had a spectacularly gargantuan A-ha moment? Somewhat like an epiphany of sorts? I had one recently, and it was fascinating (to me, at least) on so many levels. Obviously, this won't be nearly as interesting to you as it was to me, but I've nothing else to blog about at the moment, so allow me to bore you with this.

I do not want to be in a relationship with anyone.

Being a writer of erotic romance novels (and btw, for those who have been asking, the current MS is almost done -- but it's not erotic romance, it's more a romantic dramedy) I'd always thought these fantasies which have played out in my brain since childhood were the result of a strong inner desire to be involved with the type of men described in my books. Apparently, that's not true, and I discovered this during a recent bit of meditating (you people do meditate, right? It ain't just for New Agers -- it's the best life compass you can use). It turns out that the reason I love the chase so much is because I don't really enjoy the catch. Sure, I could say the catch bores me to an extent (as it does with anyone) but that's not the real issue.

The simple truth is that I like not being in a relationship. That's not to say regular sex isn't to be missed, but a girl can get laid whenever she wants and there are plenty of toys to offset these things. I do not want the things people in relationships have. I don't want children. I don't want to share a big house with a boyfriend or husband, because I like things the way I like them and I don't want to adapt to someone else's lifestyle. I don't want to have arguments over stupid shit. I don't want to worry about someone if they drag in hours later than they'd said they would. I don't want to cook for two people. I don't want to clean for two people. I don't want to give up the middle of the bed. I don't want to be inconvenienced when someone else wakes up in the morning and wakes me in the process. I don't want to explain me, my life or myself to someone who can't possibly relate to me or my life.

I don't want to be sidetracked from my goals, I don't want to make extra time for someone else, I don't want to gain weight because someone insists on taking me to dinner even though I'm not hungry. I don't want to wake up with a headache because someone insisted I have a glass of wine. I don't want to pretend that sex was good when it wasn't. I don't want to deal with headgames, whether they're in the form of the male ego or male insecurity. I don't want to explain myself when asked a stupid question. I don't want to have to be nice all the time. I don't want to meet someone else's family and pretend I think they're swell. And I don't even want to do these things from a distance. Meaning, not only don't I want to do these things with a live-in boyfriend; I don't want to do them with someone who lives down the street or in a neighboring city. I don't want another person living in my personal space, which, if you'd care to know, extends to the next country over.

All of that said, I like sex as much (if not much more) than the next person, and I'm not quite sure how to resolve this, as I prefer not sleeping with people I've just met due to my aversion to sexually transmitted diseases (do not forget that I have a degree in infectious diseases and am more concerned with these things than the average Joe) and the sad fact is that several dates tend to give some people the impression you're their girlfriend and I don't want that, either. What would be absolutely fantastic, would be a lovely posh Englishman penpal, who could just pop over here to service me a few times a week. Obviously, he'd need to be quite wealthy to afford this, particularly since he'd need to stay in a hotel (I meant it when I said I'm not keen on people in my personal space) but I promise the sex would be worth it. (For him, anyway.)

I can't believe that all this time I thought I wanted a relationship with Mr. Perfect -- when all I really want is what I already have (but with notable career advancement and a substantial raise in income). No fucking wonder I always get crazy the moment I get involved with anyone. No wonder I start to panic and want to stop seeing the guy immediately; it's because my subconscious knows it's not something I really want. None of this is to say that I don't like men. I love some of them quite a bit. Those in my books, for example, I find absolutely perfect. But, truth be told, I'm not sure even they are perfect enough to change my life for. Oh, I get quite a lot out of writing them. But I doubt that I'd want to live with, or marry, one of them. Not that I won't continue writing them, as I do very much enjoy it. But I think I prefer them as fantasy, rather than reality.

I'm sure some of you will think I'm high, or depressed, or whatever -- I'm not. The Rocket Scientist (who I decided not to go out with because I didn't think it would be fair to him, knowing what I now know) got me thinking about all of this, because he was so keen and such a catch in so many ways (job, income, looks, education, personality, etc). And now that I know it, it changes everything.

I truly cannot believe it took me 33 years to realize that I don't want a man of my own.

xx Isabella

July's Blogbunnie Blog Makeover Contest!

Rules for Isabella Snow's July blog makeover contest! Entering is easy! Just copy and paste this (entire) blurb to your blog (make sure the links still work!) and then email Isabella a link to your blog post. The contest deadline is at midnight GMT July 31. One winner will be selected the following day by a drawing of names; the name will be posted here; and the winner will be emailed, as well. A new, totally original blog will be completed within two weeks of winning. One entry per blog. *Blogger.com customization only*, see the Blogbunnie Blog Design portfolio for layout options.

Good luck!
xx Isabella

The Rocket Scientist

A few things to address before I get to the Rocket Scientist. Firstly, there will be a new Blogbunnie Blog Makeover contest in July. I'll post details in a couple of days. The last winner was Southern Sage.

Secondly, I am absolutely knackered because I got behind in my work due to the Iranian revolution and my efforts to keep track of what was going on. (I am 1/2 Iranian if you don't already know this.) So the last few days I have been trying to get all of my work done and I'm so tired. Am nearly done but still have a bit more to do tomorrow. Sorry haven't been blogging, will be round to y'alls blogs asap.

Thirdly... the Rocket Scientist: So, I found this local dating site and my local language skills are good enough that I could make the profile and read others, etc. I was contacted by this aerospace engineer (hence Rocket Scientist) who is 6'5 and has a very, very nice body. He's a year or two older than me and doesn't have kids.

His English seems pretty good, but I'm still worried about it. Like many Slavs (think Russians) he doesn't use articles, because they don't exist in Slavonic languages, and it makes me wonder how good his English really is. If he were local, I wouldn't be so worried because then I could speak some of his language and he could speak some of mine. But he's from Slovenia and I cannot speak Slovene. He works for a US company here so he probably is fluent enough, considering his job (most people in the aviation industry are pretty good English speakers) but it still makes me nervous.

Anyway.

He's using a name that is clearly not his real name -- Indy. When I asked what his real name was, he said this was his only name. Indy is not a Slavic name, nor is it short for any Slavic name that I'm aware of, and this makes me wary as I feel like he's already hiding something. To make things more odd, his email address started with Belloc: If you've seen Raiders of the Lost Ark, Indy is Harrison Ford and Belloc is his nemesis. So, even if Indy is a nickname, what's up with the email address?

I've been talked into meeting for a drink but he's asked me to suggest somewhere and I've no idea where to go. Not sure I even want to go, which is why I keep taking a whole day to reply to his emails -- and that is actually making him more and more interested, apparently. Sigh.

Thoughts? Advice? Am I being too analytical?

xx Isabella

10 Personal Things About Me

Still adding to my eventual 100 Things About Me list. Here are 10 things of a slightly more personal nature.

1. I spent most of my teenage years incarcerated. 5 of them, to be exact.

2. I have been estranged from my father for about 3 years now, and if I never talk to him again, it will be too soon.

3. I have been estranged from my older sister for almost as long, and if I never talk to her again it will be too soon. It's nothing to do with her being a whore though, just in case y'all get the wrong idea. I'm cool with whores as long as they've got at least once principle.

4. I'm 99.9% sure I could take your money at pool, and on your own terms. Have been doing so since I was 12. Paid much better than a paper route would have.

5. While I am not from Philly, I spent my last year of high school living in an entirely black ghetto in N. Philly. At the time, I was in my hippie phase and wore gauze dresses and mocc boots. Everyone in the neighborhood thought I was crazy and therefore never fucked with me.

6. My father is Persian. My mother is mostly Swiss and Welsh. That makes me the only pasty white girl who doesn't burn in the sun.

7. I am very, very good with a firearm.

8. I am very, very bad with heights.

9. I am a sucker for highly educated Englishmen with posh accents. I wish there were a 12 Step Program for this illness.

10. I am physically repulsed by tenderness. If you want to fuck me, the only way you're going to turn me on is by tossing me down on the bed and having your way with me.

So..... who's got something in common with me?

xx Isabella

Ten Things That Turn Me Off

Before I get to the list, let me mention that I have a blogger template I'll be giving away just as soon as I find someone to give it to -- the mockup is very girlie and would most appeal to a female baker, as there is a woman carrying cupcakes in the graphic. If you'd like to know more, email me for the mockup link. Blogger.com blogs only.

Right; in keeping with my pursuit of eventually having a 100 things About Me list, I've decided to include 10 things which turn me off, as they relate to the opposite sex. Some of these will sound stupid or silly but that's just how it is. I don't mean to be ridiculous, I just know myself that well. So here we are -- please note they are in no particular order. Also note that I'm not addressing the big things like confidence, etc. because those things should go without saying.

1. Bony feet and/or gorilla toes.

I have had a thing about feet for as long as I can recall -- they freak me out. No idea why. Pretty piggies are fine; anything else truly makes me gag. And it's not just that; I don't want to feel your freaky feet brush up against me in bed, either. Bony feet freak me out and so do gorilla toes -- you know, when the middle toes are way, way longer than the big toe? Yech, I hate even writing the words big toe!

2. Metrosexuals.

Where the fuck have all the real men gone? Honestly, I'm more manly than most of the guys I've met in Europe. There were loads of real men in Texas (am not a Texan, btw) and I could kick myself for ignoring them the entire time I lived there. Now that I have only Metro Eurotrash to choose from, I fully appreciate the well that has long since run dry. Occasionally, I meet a masculine Brit; but the Germans and French (etc) are girlie enough to have Barbie dolls named after them.

3. Heavy accents / bad grammar

These don't necessarily go together, obviously. Heavy accents include any accent imaginable, particularly those which make a person sound like an idiot. For example, if you have a strong Bklyn accent, you sound ignorant. Same with a Rocky (Philly) accent, or Cockney accent, etc. I spent a lot of time mainstreaming my own Bklyn accent, and you will not hear it today, apart from when I say things like New York or car (unless I'm really pissed off at you, in which case I will sound like Tony Soprano) and only then because I feel like a redneck otherwise. Grammar is an issue, too: Please don't think I'm going to fall in love with you if you say things like, "She not goin' to speak no proper English for no stupid reason."

4. Fish lips.

I love lips, and most lips will do nicely. But there is one shape which I have noticed over the years that makes me stare -- and not in a good way. There's an arch to the upper lip that just doesn't look human to me. Imagine those wax lips turned upside down. And it's not necessarily obvious either; I once had a crush on someone without realizing they had this fish lip thing going on. And that was the end of my crush. I can't get into fish lips, sorry.

5. Racism.

Looking 100% white as I do, I've grown up hearing loads of arseholes run off at the mouth about how Middle Eastern people and/or Muslims are this or that. And then when they realize I'm half Middle Eastern, I get this line, "Oh... but you're different. You're white. And you're not wearing a sheet." Don't be a cunt.

6. Skinny thighs and narrow hips.

I can't cope with a man having skinnier thighs or narrow hips; makes me feel like I'm shagging a woman. Most men have average-sized thighs, but some men have nice big thighs that make their jeans just a tad snug. Love that. You see it in rodeo cowboys and firemen a lot. Yumm.

7. Waffling.

A man who can't make his mind up on the spot is very, very annoying. And no, I'm not talking about making your mind up about whether or not you want to, say, marry someone -- but if you can't think on your feet and exercise good judgment in the blink of an eye, you are not date worthy!

8. Ear gunk.

Few things will make me vomit more quickly than seeing a man with ear gunk, whether it's inside or outside. Amazing how many men seem to suck at cleaning them properly.

9. Bad table manners.

If you don't know how to eat properly, this is a turn-off. If you don't know how to eat with your fork in the left hand, please learn before you take me out to dinner.

10. White tongue.

If you've brushed your teeth well, you've also brushed your tongue. If you've got a white or yellow tongue, you either don't brush well, or you've had your tongue somewhere it shouldn't have been, and I don't want that thing near me, thank you.


What things turn you off in the opposite sex?

xx Isabella

What's a Reasonable Coochie/Cock Count?

Keeping in theme with the last post, I'd now like to know the max number of sexual partners you'd be able to tolerate in a boyfriend, girlfriend or spouse. We all know women are going to lie to keep from looking like the whores we are, but what about men? I can see how it might be a turn-off to hear that your future wife shagged 45 men before you; but does this bother women, as well?

Frankly, for me, yeah; it does.

A man who has slept with 50 women has zero self-control, as far as I'm concerned; which is never, ever sexy. That, and he's probably a skank, as well. (Can you say STDs?) I've known men who claim to have fucked loads of women like this and it always makes me sick. Are you guys totally ruled by the cock, or what? If yes, you're not man enough. If no, eh, there's bound to be something wrong with you, so piss off anyway.

I've heard men say that if a woman needs both hands to count how many men she's slept with, she's not fit for marriage. I've also heard men say that if you can't count the number of men on both hands, she's not experienced enough for marriage (as in, she'll want to keep exploring and therefore possibly cheat). The latter is an interesting theory, but I think it probably applies more to men than women -- which is likely why I've only heard men discuss it.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying I'd want to date a virgin -- that's just too much work for someone who prefers a man know what he's doing from the start. Personally, IMHO, five, ten, or fifteen sounds like a reasonable coochie count for a 35 year old guy. I'm guessing most men would reduce that number significantly for women, even if they didn't want to admit it.

What numbers seem reasonable to you? Is there a number that would turn you off?

xx Isabella

How Many Dates Until Poontang Is a Go?

It's a been a really long time (15 years?) since I've read any dating advice books (because they're always rubbish -- hence, writing my own!) but I've recently bought one for a bit of light reading and now I've got to ask the lot of you something out of sheer curiosity:

What's the proper time frame for dropping knickers these days?

Back in the 40s and 50s it was never (unless you were a Pink Lady, obviously). In the 60s and 70s it was somewhere between never and first shared LSD experience. In the 80s and 90s it seemed to be a few weeks or maybe a month. I stopped paying attention after this and started to make my own schedule -- but I'm seriously wondering what society thinks it is now.

Ladies: How long do you wait before you have sex with a man you're dating? Is it different with each guy? Or do you have a rule about it?

Guys: What's a normal time frame you'd expect a girl to give poontang up within? And when is it too soon, aka, she's too tarty?

Be honest!

xx Isabella

What do you Twitter?

Firstly, let me just make a belated announcement -- The Blogbunnie blog makeover contest was won by Southern Sage, and whilst I tweeted him the announcement, I forgot to blog it here so that everyone else who entered would know, as well. Sorry!! So, big congrats to Sage, who will have his new blog layout within the next two weeks.

Secondly, I answered one of those opinion-related questions over at Sex Talk yesterday and if any of you ladies agree or disagree with my answer to Do Women Like Having Their Labia Sucked? feel free to comment and leave your opinion.

And finally....Twitter. I've been getting into Twitter lately and I've come to the conclusion that it's pretty much blogging for ADHD people. In other words, people who can't be bothered to sit down and blog something, but would rather just type a few lines in the heat of the moment. I'm starting to like it. My problem is this -- it's so fucking hard to find interested tweeps. I mean, if I already know you, that's interesting enough. But if I'm looking for new tweeps to follow, I just can't bring myself to follow people who tweet 30 times a day and all they do is give an account of what they're eating.

I want to follow witty people, or people who have something interesting to say or show me. I really can't stand the guys who only tweet about gadgets (there are tons of them) and software all day long, or the latest polls of local politics. That is so fucking dull.

There are a few celebs who tweet wittily, but I'm not sure they're not paying someone to it, because it's just too clever. Then there are the celebs who only tweet promotional shite. One of them I truly adored but was so put off by this repetitive nonsense that I no longer want to see him perform live. I'd thought the man amazingly clever; now I think him self-serving and dull -- particularly since 99.9 of his @replies are listings of tour dates. Honestly, the man can't be that hard up for cash that he needs to spend all of his time tweeting stand-up dates.

Right, so, the point is, I'm looking for new tweeps to follow. If you'd like to connect on Twitter, let me know. Send me an @ reply, as I don't auto-follow (too much porn spam). And if you're not already on twitter, or if you think it's silly, this just means you haven't discovered TweetDeck yet -- makes it so much more interested when you can filter out people's replies and organize them clearly.

Click here for Isabella Snow on Twitter

xx Isabella

The Hands Free Orgasm

Ok -- before we get into the orgasm bit, let me say that I've been reading a fascinating (if not quite out of date in terms of societal evolution) book on the psychology of the subconscious mind. We all know how powerful the subconscious is; we all now how powerful faith is (and no, I'm not referring to religion at all); we all know that the mind can work miracles if the subconscious believes the miracles are possible.

At least, I hope we all know this, as science has proven it over and over again.

So anyway. The orgasm bit. As I was reading this book last night, I got to thinking about a little party trick of mine: I can make myself orgasm without touching myself, just by contracting the right muscles. Sounds great, but the truth is that it's completely exhausting and physically draining by the time you cum, because it takes so much focus. I also have semi-frequent spontaneous orgasms during sleep, not that this is a party trick, obviously.

Well. Being that I already knew myself capable of cumming without touching myself, I decided to command my subconscious to make me orgasm right there on the spot without having to do much more than wait. Now; my conscious mind had a doubt or two about this, but they were actually easily ignored because I already knew, consciously and subconsciously, that I could do this in the way I just mentioned. Nevertheless, I have to say, I was quite surprised (and pleasantly, at that!) at the orgasmic sensation that started to build almost immediately.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I started to feel this less than 2 minutes after I started giving myself the command. I was saying it out loud (something like, "I command my subconscious to make me orgasm right now,") and I said it several times. Can I just tell you that I honestly started to feel as though I was being properly fucked? I was NOT dreaming, I was not using any toys, I was laying on my stomach and barely moving until it got to the point that I couldn't stop moving.

I was totally surprised by the orgasm. It wasn't the best I've ever had, but it was quite good and totally effort free, which is always lovely. Next time, I will tell my subconscious that I command it to give me the most powerful orgasm I've ever had -- mmm... getting kind of excited just thinking about that.

Who's gonna try the hands-free orgasm next?

xx Isabella

10 Words I Hate

This is just another addition to my eventual '100 Things About Me' list, which obviously isn't a massive priority for me, given that I started it ages ago and am only up to, what, 20? Well, whatever.

1. Lover : Ugh, I fucking hate this word. It makes my skin crawl and makes me feel like I need a bath. No idea why, but it does.

2. Irregardless : This is a bit of a trick addition, being that irregardless isn't even a fucking word. You probably meant irrespective, people!! IRRESPECTIVE!

3. Abuse : This word bothers me as well, particularly when over-used by the British for everyfuckingthing they can whinge about. "Stop abusing me!" Very annoying.

4. Felch : You know what this is, right? Sucking cum out of a well-used orifice? Yeah, that's probably why the word makes me want to retch when I see or hear it.

5. Queef : I'm grateful for never having experienced this, if only to have avoided hearing a man use the word in my presence. Who the fuck thought this word up, anyway?

6. Making love : Yes, yes, that's a phrase and not a word. So fine, it'll just have to count twice. I don't make love, I fuck -- and God help the tosser who says he wants to do otherwise.

7. Tenderness : Oh, but you ought to see me wince when Love Me Tender comes on the radio. Blech.

8. Fart: Another word I do not want to hear. Ever. It just totally, totally turns me off.

9. Cuddle: Cuddly as an adjective doesn't bother me, but cuddle as a verb makes me feel ill. Hug is so much better.


What words do you hate?

xx Isabella

Cumsicles, Anyone?

I published a Q&A over at Sex Talk today that got me wondering. A guy named "Q" mentioned that he loves to eat his own cum (more common than you'd think, apparently) and also mentioned that he likes to freeze it for future cum-munchies. Unfortunately, he ran into a little problem with the girlfriend in the process and you can read about it here if you'd like.

I've heard of cumsicles, cock pops, penis pops, etc.; but I was a bit surprised to find full-on fetish sites dedicated to sperm eaters. Not people who eat it during a sex act -- but people who eat it on toast, muffins, etc. Wank jelly, if you will.

Blech, people. Blech! I can be a total cum slut in the right situation, but I am not going to save your boys for tomorrow's breakfast or next week's lunch! And I can tell you I'd be pretty upset if I accidentally ate my boyfriend's frozen spunk because I didn't realize he was making ice-cubes out of it. (See the Sex Talk link!)

Am I the only person who wants to chuck at the mere thought of this??

xx Isabella

The Dutchboy Update

Notice he's gone from Dutchman to Dutchboy!

Sorry I didn't have time to update yesterday, y'all, I am redesigning Sex Talk and was working on it late. So. Anyway. Yes, the tosser did email me on Monday morning, just like I knew he would. And what did he say? Something to the effect of, "I didn't reply to your email because I don't like being told what to do, and if I'd wanted to write something back, I would have. I stayed away from email for the weekend to see if you would change your tune when I came back on Monday, but you are too demanding for me. I prefer a woman who knows her place."

Now, my English is better than his, so that's a better translation -- but that's pretty much what he said. I would have been furious, were I not so stunned by his huge bollocks. He was cute, but not that fucking cute. And it didn't help that he called me dear... is there a less flattering term of endearment? I might like it when I'm 80; right now, not so much. And for those who think his English might have been an issue, it wasn't. His English is quite good, and he doesn't need time for translating when writing. I know this because of how fast he replied several times. Anyway. That's old news now.

I then got a letter from a German guy who used so many exclamation points that it started to freak me out a bit. He seemed to have potential, but he's 42 and I'd rather not date any older men anymore. That, and he seemed to be in the midst of a midlife crisis. Which, actually, is right on par with most of the men I seem to meet!

So anyway, still single and thanks for all the advice, luvvlies!

xx Isabella

The Dutchman, Part II

If you're a regular reader, please be sure to read the previous post before you comment on this one, cos there is more to it than this.

Right. So. Aside from the "are you fat" thing, there is something else bothering me about D, and here it is: I'd basically written something to the effect of, "Here's a photo -- you let me know if I'm too fat too talk to." He replied by saying he was sorry he'd had to ask (see the rest in the previous post), and that he was perfectly happy with my size, and that he'd like continue talking with me. I replied by basically saying that was fine, and that it was his turn to email, since I'd written the last proper email (to which he'd only responded by asking if I was fat).

Well. He replies to this within seconds, asking "Me...? I told you, I'm not good at writing long emails."

Now. He was saying this because the last proper email I'd sent had been longish, given that he'd asked me a lot of questions. I never asked him to write something long back, but he hadn't even addressed anything I'd said in that last email, so I was thinking him a bit rude for that. I wrote him back and told him it might be nice if he could at least comment on something I'd written before, since he'd asked the questions; or maybe he could just write something new and get the subject back to something nice, since he'd been the one to act like an arse.

(Ok, I didn't really say it like that. But whatever. You get the point.)

So what happened next? Nothing. No reply. Sadly, I'm not all that surprised, given that I sent it at the end of his work day. I think he did read it, but couldn't be arsed to reply right then. The next day, Friday, was a major holiday (end of WWII) so I knew he wouldn't be at work. Also knew he wouldn't be at work this weekend, which means the next time he'll reply is Monday; assuming he replies at all.

This is not the first time I've encountered this when meeting someone online, and it absolutely infuriates me. To be fair, he may not have internet at home, given that he lives in a small village (really small -- internet access isn't always possible in those places), but, then again, he might. I have no idea. If he doesn't have it, it's understandable that he wouldn't be able to email over the holiday/weekend. And I do know that he hasn't logged into that email account or checked his profile since the end of his work day Thursday. My main source of annoyance is that he would have known this when he read my email on Thursday -- and he should have fucking made of point of saying it would be 4 days before he would be able to email again.

It's been a week since we started chatting and I now feel like we are moving backwards. When I reach this point, I generally tell the guy to piss off and stop wasting my time, as there are better things I could do with it. I did write him on Friday to let him know I was annoyed about this and if he wants to get to know me, I'd like to know how he intends to do it!

Are men just genetically inconsiderate? Or should I be taking this personal? I don't want to date someone who doesn't have the sense to see how rude this is. Or am I over-reacting? Is this ok? How do you go from emailing every day, twice a day, to not at all for 4 days? I am sure he will email me on Monday as though it's perfectly normal, and I need to decide how to reply to that. Do I give him my usual (and scathing) telling-off? Or do I ask why he did it? Or do I ignore it and see if he does it again?

What do you guys think?

xx Isabella

Dating a Foreigner

Ironic title, given that I'm a foreigner in the country I live in, and so is the guy I'm going to talk about. Let's see, where to begin? I recently placed a very specific personals ad on a local site, and the next day my inbox was swamped with nasty emails from various men. And I don't mean dirty or lascivious emails -- those might have been entertaining. These were more like, "No such man exists, you stupid bitch!"

Men who react like this are not men I'd like to date, regardless, so this doesn't deter me from writing the type of ads I've written on occasion.

There was, however, someone who wasn't all that put off by it, and we've been chatting. We'll call him D. We chatted a bit before I showed him a photo of me, and my video. After he got these, he then emailed me to (essentially) ask if I was fat. This struck me as having to mean I looked fat to him, either in my photo, or the video. I replied by telling him this was a subjective question I couldn't answer for him, and I sent him another photo of me in jeans so he could judge for himself.

He then writes me and tells me he's sorry for having to ask, but he wanted to know upfront if I was fat or not, because he liked everything I'd written, and his experience was that women with good personalities were almost never attractive. Annoyed as I was, I couldn't really blame him for this, as I think it's something we all consider at some point. Physical attraction is very important, even if some say otherwise.

So, I've passed the size test and now I'm wondering if I'm too annoyed over the whole thing to meet him.

In the meantime, I'll give you some info about him. He's 33, Dutch, doesn't have kids, lives in the countryside about 40 minutes from where I live, owns his own business, and apparently has the same sort of personality I do -- this is the main thing that attracts me to him; neither of us are loud, noisy, drama people and we hate the bar/club scene. Believe me when I tell you that's hard to find in someone I find attractive.

He's about 6' and has dark hair and the most amazing blue eyes I've ever seen. Well, ok, Daniel Craig has the bluest eyes I've ever seen, but D has the most amazing color I've ever seen. I'm not even sure there is a word to describe it. It's like blue and green and gray mixed together, and to be totally cheesy, they look like liquid pools of color.

Yes, took that straight out of a romance novel, but it's an accurate description.

I've no idea if we're going to go on a date or not, but he's not a native English speaker and this worries me a bit. So far he seems very fluent (many Dutch people are) and it may not be an issue. But I know I can't date someone if there is even a small communication problem. We'll see.

Anyone ever dated someone who wasn't a native English speaker?

xx Isabella

May's Win A Blog Makeover Contest!

Rules for Isabella Snow's May blog makeover contest! Entering is easy! Just copy and paste this (entire) blurb to your blog (make sure the links still work!) and then email Isabella a link to your blog post. The contest deadline is at midnight GMT May 31. One winner will be selected the following day by a drawing of names; the name will be posted here; and the winner will be emailed, as well. New, totally original blogs will be completed within two weeks of winning. One entry per blog. Blogger.com customization only, see the Blogbunnie Blog Design portfolio for layout options.


Good Luck!
xx Isabella