Being in a long distance relationship is a lot of work. Especially for someone who is really lazy and generally likes doing the bare minimum just to get by in every other aspect in life. Such as myself. I mean, I can barely keep enough pairs of underwear clean just to get by, let alone keep a 650-mile distant relationship going with a man. I mean, yeah it means not having to shave my legs on a consistent basis, which I am all for, but when you're in a relationship there's supposed to be a guarantee that you're going to be getting laid on a daily basis.
Not the case in a long distance relationship. You have to get creative to keep the passion alive during your time apart. And since I won't be moving to Hair Guy's (see previous column) city for a few more months, I've resigned myself to the archaic tradition of activities such as phone sex. Fortunately, however, technology has allowed for new and improved ways to engage in long distance intimacy.
Sexting is always a nice option because you can do it from anywhere, at any time of day. For example, I received the text, "I'm horny" one evening while I was at work. In between brewing coffee and stocking blueberry muffins, I sexted back something about letting him touch my own muffin. See? Not only is sexting convenient, but you can actually incorporate your surroundings into it. For instance, upon seeing the sext, "I would really like to be inside you right now," I responded with, "I would like you to be inside of me right now, as well. Much like this White Castle slider I am currently enjoying."
The only downfall to sexting is accidentally sending the sext message to the wrong person. Say, hypothetically, you send your boss (who has a similar name to the person you're dating) a message telling him all of the dirty things you want to do to him. And he, hypothetically, writes back saying that, as much as he's flattered, he thinks it best to keep your relationship professional.
The one time I decided I did want to have phone sex, I was heavily intoxicated. By the time he got back to me, I was already passed out. Sending pictures is another method that modern technology has allowed for. Hair Guy and I like to send pictures of ourselves to each other, via email. Mine usually involve me in a funny situation to represent something that occurred during my day. For some reason, though, he keeps asking that I send nude photos of myself. I don't really get it. I mean, he only sends me funny pictures—like giant blown-up shots of his penis—so why would I send erotic, naked pics?
I also refuse to send any type of picture of myself that will one day, when I'm rich and famous, get out all over the internet. The last thing I need the world seeing is a crotch shot of me sprawled out on my Martha Stewart Collection bedspread. A lot of guys I've dated have never even seen my vag, and that was after buying me several dinners; why would I let just anyone see it for free? (Sidebar: When I am rich and famous [and I will be], I do not want any of the following actresses playing me in the movie of my life: Keira Knightley, Dakota Fanning, Tobey Maguire.)
And then, of course, there's the old phone sex way of keeping the passion going. I don't really get phone sex, though. Apparently it involves saying horribly inappropriate sexual comments over the phone. If that's what phone sex is, then I have phone sex with pretty much everyone I speak to on the telephone, including, but not limited to, the people at the company who handle my student loan payments, the guy who answers the phone at Papa John's, and my best friend's 12-year-old brother.
The one time I decided I did want to have phone sex, I was heavily intoxicated. I told him to call me when he got a chance so I could say dirty things to him. By the time he got back to me, I was already passed out on my friend Lauren's couch in her attic, wearing nothing but my underwear and spooning my other friend Kara. Apparently, in addition to being up for phone sex while drunk, I also turn into a lesbian.
Having been in this long distance relationship for several months now, I've definitely learned to appreciate certain things. For instance, the time you actually get to spend with each other is that much more special—especially the time you spend with that person having sex. I also appreciate the work that goes into a relationship in order for it to be successful. I mean, right now I'm paying for all of my own dinners and movies because he isn't here to do that for me. That's a huge sacrifice on my part, but that is a sacrifice I am willing to make for him. I really think this one might work out. If I don't die from sexual frustration and masturbation over-exertion first.