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Monday, 28 November 2022

50 Ways to Be Romantic on the Cheap

Ways to Be Romantic on the Cheap

Often my articles on family are about spending time with your kids, but today we’ll talk about another important aspect of families: couples. If you’ve got a significant other, I highly recommend you keep the spark of your relationship alive and find ways to show you appreciate each other, every week and every day, if possible.

Look for little, inexpensive ways to be romantic, and it will pay off for your relationship in innumerable ways.

Why inexpensive? Well, you could rent a limo and take your love to a snooty French restaurant, or whisk him or her off to a trip to the snow-capped Alps, or rent a stadium and have the Three Tenors sing love songs for you while the New York Philharmonic plays in the background. I don’t know about you, but I can’t afford to do that kind of stuff more than a few times a month. The rest of the time, I have to resort to cheapskate.

Before we get into the list, let’s look at a few notes on how to use the list:

Weekly dates. I recommend you have a date at least once a week with your partner. It doesn’t have to be an expensive one, but at least find some way to spend a couple hours time together. If you’ve got kids, like I do, find a babysitter.

Communicate. Romantic gestures don’t take the place of real communication. Take time to talk about your goals, your dreams, your plans for the future, your current lives, things you’re happy about, things you love about the other person, things you’d like to work on, things you’re grateful for.

Inspiration. This list contains a lot of obvious stuff — you could probably come up with twice as many good ideas yourself. But the list doesn’t aim for originality — it aims to be an inspiration. Pick and choose some good ideas, or use it to spark some of your own. Sometimes we just need a little reminder.

Forget Valentines. Boycott Valentine’s Day, as it makes people think they should be romantic on special occasions. Instead, pick one of these ideas and do it any day of the week — no need for a special occasion.

OK, enough talk. Let’s look at some ways to be romantic without breaking your budget (note to my mom: don’t read this, as there are a couple of sexy-time things later on):

Write a poem.
Cook a romantic dinner.
Give a full-body massage.
Pack a sunset picnic.
Pick wildflowers on the way home.
Burn a CD with love songs.
Give dark chocolates.
Read poetry together.
Prepare strawberries with fondue chocolate.
Snuggle together on a rainy day.
Leave little love notes everywhere.
Send a love email every day.
Take a moonlit walk on the beach.
Snuggle together while watching romantic movies (Casablanca, Audrey Hepburn are my favs).
Get good wine, watch shooting stars.
Take a bath together (use bubbles!).
Bring home good coffee or a decadent sweet.
Take a walk down memory lane — visit some of the special places from your early days of dating.
Make warm chocolate cake for dessert.
Make a scrapbook with photos, mementos, and little notes from you lives together.
Kiss in the rain.
Ride a ferris wheel.
Sneak away from a party and make out.
Bring home great take-out, and light some candles.
Fix something or fix up the house just to make your partner happy.
Slow dance to romantic music.
Take a nap together.
Kiss slowly, touching his or her back and neck and nape — slowly.
Make a list of everything you love about him or her.
Write a love letter.
Clip or email things that make you think of him or her, every day.
Go to a movie, ignore the movie, and make out like teen-agers.
Groom yourself, and try to look good for your partner.
Take some quiet time and talk about your day.
Write little notes, one for each way he or she drives you crazy.
Feed each other grapes.
Recreate your partner’s favorite romantic movie scene.
Pretend you’re going on a first date — show up at the door with flowers, all dressed up, with your car washed and cleaned, looking spiffy. Recreate the first time.
Create a little box with a bunch of your partner’s favorite things inside.
Paint each other with flavored body paint. Be creative!
Try some sexy role-playing. Get dressed up, be daring, have fun.
Give a little token to your partner to wear, and say it’s to remind him or her all day that you love them.
Sing a favorite song to him or her. Only do this if you can sing fairly well.
Have dinner on the roof, with some candles. This doesn’t work if your roof slopes sharply.
Hold hands, and walk somewhere with lots of pretty lights.
Say I love you. In a different way, every day.
Blindfold your partner. Use a feather. Slowly.
Declare your love, very publicly.
Fruit or berries and freshly made whipped cream.
Play Sade. Do what comes naturally. Slowly.

Hot!!! Hotel Sex Positions That Will Make Your vacations a Memorable One.

Flirtconnect Hook-ups , Hookup tips

There’s a reason why hotel sex is so good–you’re on vacation! You’re moving away from your go-to routine, which, however great, could always use some variety of relocation. And what better way to mix it up than a king-size bed, fresh sheets you don’t have to clean up, and (if you get the post-boning munchies) room service? Whether you do it on the bed, in the luxury shower, or, hell, on a desk chair, here are eight positions to really help you enjoy your stay.

A Room With a View

Use the huge picture window for some pretend exhibition. Wait until night and you’ll be able to see everything and everyone outside, but they can’t see you. Have your partner hop aboard the standard-issue accent chair while you climb on top of them. Remember to turn off ALL the lights in the room and obvs don’t be on the first floor or it gets way too real!

The All-Inclusive

Now’s the time to bring out that one vibe that’s really, really good but a little too loud for home. Try doggy with a reach-around by the giving partner. (If the giver is using a strap-on, a wearable one that vibrates will do a li’l something for them too.) And if it sounds like a chainsaw is going off in your room, well, let your hall mates wonder. It’s not like you’ll ever see them again!

The Four-Poster Fantasy

Stand on the pillows (again–not yours to wash!) and face the wall, grabbing on to a bedpost and propping a foot on the headboard. This works best at a bed-and-breakfast where defiling the dainty space seems extra dirty, but any room with a headboard or bedposts will do. Usually, you should be totally present with your partner, but in this case, feel quite free to press your cheek against the old-timey wallpaper and have a full-on historical romantic fantasy. You can tell them about it as they f*ck you...or not.

The Do Not Disturb

Hotels always have huge mirrors that are perfect for watching yourselves having sex. Find that mirror, drag a chair or that flimsy luggage rack thing over there, and start making out, murmuring something like, “Look how hot we look.” Tell them you want to watch as they slide inside you, and prop your leg up so you can both see how completely sexy you look. There’s a reason people are voyeurs and exhibitionists—do this and you’ll see why.

The Wake-Up Call

Sleep in as long as you like and wake up slowly. Start the day by lying on your stomach, opening your legs a bit, and letting them slide in from behind. After sharing a bed all night, your bodies will be relaxed and ready for each other (especially because of the glory of morning wood), and since you’re facing away from your partner, no worries about the non-glories of morning breath.

For Adults Only

Anyone can turn on the computer and wank to some porn, but there’s something delightfully forbidden and old-school about checking out the “adult channel” that still exists in every hotel. Suggest seeing what’s on (this is even more effective if it’s out of character for you) and position yourselves facing the TV. If you’re feeling it, copy what the actors are doing. Be as loud as you want (because, hotel!). If you receive a noise complaint, count it as a badge of honour.

The Upward Affair

A hotel is ideal for acting out a fantasy role-play. The best part is, you can be absolutely anyone. Seduction of the room service delivery guy/maid? Adulterous lovers secretly meeting for the first time? Put your ass at the edge of the bed, legs over their shoulders, and have them lean down between your legs. Just throw yourselves into it. Role-play is weirdly freeing because it’s not “you,” it’s your character.

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How Porn Brought My Mom and Me Together

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I had a tense and antagonistic relationship with my mother when I was growing up. At the age of 16, I was sure that I would never speak to her again once I could move out of the house. We were too dissimilar: she, a methodical scientist and introvert; me, a free-spirited writer and extrovert. The tchotchkes around the house that gave her such joy made me want to scream and the pop culture I adored seemed toxic and damaging to her feminist politics.

It took me many years and 3,000 miles of distance for me to realize my mother was not just a parent, but a person with life experiences of her own. While I thought that she was just trying to ruin my life (as teenagers are wont to believe), I realize now how she was trying to protect me from the trauma that she experienced when she was my age. Thankfully, we now have a deeply loving, playfully teasing relationship — not just as mother and daughter, but as friends.

And we got there thanks, in part, to porn.

Yes, that is an incredibly weird thing to say. So many people I know can barely talk to their parents about sex, or their queer identity, or their multiple partners, never mind their lives as sex workers. I've always been grateful that my mother encouraged me to ask any and all questions that my public schools couldn't answer — questions like, "Oh my god, are the lumps under my nipples cancer??" (No.) Or, "Does it make me less of a feminist if I fantasize about being dominated?" (No, not if that's what I really want.) That openness was valuable to me.

“IT TOOK ME MANY YEARS AND 3,000 MILES OF DISTANCE FOR ME TO REALIZE MY MOTHER WAS NOT JUST A PARENT, BUT A PERSON WITH LIFE EXPERIENCES OF HER OWN.”

Still, I tried to hide my work in the porn industry from my mother. She's a second-wave feminist, so I grew up marching next to her at NOW rallies. By the time I was dabbling in the adult industry, I had read enough about the history of feminism to feel pretty confident that she would not welcome my "alternative lifestyle." I didn't feel very close to her at the time, and I certainly did not feel prepared to talk to her about this career choice. As I worked and blogged under a different name, I didn't think she would ever find out.

She did.

My mother emailed me to say she had discovered that I was doing sex work and that I was using the name "Stryker," a family name with which my mother had a difficult relationship. My heart caught in my throat. Not only had I been caught doing sex work, which seemed against her feminist politics, but I was doing it using a name that she hated. I was sure I was about to get disowned.

“AS I WORKED AND BLOGGED UNDER A DIFFERENT NAME, I DIDN'T THINK SHE WOULD EVER FIND OUT. SHE DID.”

Incredibly, my mother was amused by my use of the name. In fact, she felt that my using it to do sex work kind of redeemed it for her, which touched my heart. Through that discovery, my mother and I began to talk more, sharing feminist writings on sex work (pro, con, and somewhere in the middle), talking about self-care, and discussing the ins and outs of ethical porn. My mother didn't yell at me, or talk over me, or dictate to me what I should or shouldn't be doing.

She listened.

She listened when I had great days and felt like porn was the most empowering thing I could do for myself, how I was claiming sexuality in a way that felt safe and fun for me. She listened when I felt insecure about my body, loving my fatness and my curves but also aware that being this way would mean fewer jobs and less respect. She listened when I had a tough day, and felt anxious about the weird power dynamics in the industry.

My mother never told me to quit. She never told me I had made a bad decision. She never asked me how I could be a feminist and a sex worker. She made space for me and my experiences, and she gave me advice or sympathy when I asked. So I found myself reaching out to her more often, grateful for her analysis and her wit. Now, I consider her one of my closest friends.

“MY MOTHER NEVER TOLD ME TO QUIT. SHE NEVER TOLD ME I HAD MADE A BAD DECISION.”

I know that my decision to have sex on screen wasn't easy for her to wrap her head around. I am so appreciative that she opened a completely unexpected door so we could have the relationship we have today. She's educated herself on various industry issues, becoming a solid and outspoken ally. Knowing she's proud of me — as an entrepreneur, as a writer, and yes, as a sex worker — has made me feel accepted and loved, and I am thankful every day to have been offered that chance for us to get to know each other all over again.

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I Was Emotionally Unfaithful and It Poisoned My Relationship

Flirtconnect Ladies , Stories

My boyfriend and I moved to Lagos with only each other. We were 3,000 miles from home and knew no one else in this big city. I don't think either of us anticipated just how homesick we'd be, but at 19 years old, we were sure that all we needed was each other to take on this brand new world, so starkly different from our Southeastern roots. Our naiveté didn't last long.

I hardly remember that fall, our first couple months learning and forgetting how to run after a molue, I dutifully buried in schoolwork and him working 50+ hours a week just for an excuse to leave the house. But before I knew it, winter was upon us and we trudged through slush and snow, feeling perpetually frozen in a way that even my time in Ph and Owerri couldn't have prepared me for. Poor Igbo boy, he'd never experienced anything like it.

By January, less than six months into our Eko new life, hairline fractures of fear and homesickness had evolved into cracks of exhaustion, depression, and irreparable loneliness. Relying solely on one another for comfort, friendship, love, and support had made him needy and me resentful.

Frustrated by the imposed restrictedness on any social life and simultaneous monotony of our relationship, I sought out the attention and affections of other men, former flings, and street strangers, craving some kind of social interaction other than the repetitive banter and routine we had established at home. But my attempts to divert my domestic displeasures only made them that much more pronounced — we spent our evenings sitting opposite one other, Netflix on the TV but our fingers and eyes glued to our phones in a silent, self-induced boozy haze.

It was unfair of me to assume that he wasn't perceptive enough to notice. I kept my phone close at hand at all times, especially after his semi-successful attempts to learn my passcode and read my texts. We both felt the gap between us — mentally, emotionally, physically — widening, but were too scared of the potential loneliness to bring it up.

Our relationship ebbed further into distrust and resentment. Sensing something was going on, he would try going into my texts, Facebook messages, and email looking for something concrete to confirm his suspicions, and I would respond by strengthening my passwords and carrying my laptop with me when I left the house. But there weren't any sexts or dirty photos or evidence of infidelity that he was searching for in any of the messages with these other men. It wasn't the physical temptations leading me astray, but the search for emotional understanding from anyone to feel less alone.

One guy, in particular, Sam, an old high school fling who was back in Owerri, escalated our increasing trust issues to an unsalvageable level. Already (and quite reasonably) threatened by our history, my boyfriend was far from OK with my ongoing communication with Sam, especially as I became more secretive about my phone. So I would make excuses to leave the house while I called Sam for reassurance and comfort. I complained about my boyfriend and he responded with sympathetic encouragement for me to end things, that things could be so much better without him, that Sam and I had a "real" future together, until I was so worked up that I stormed home, icing out my boyfriend for no particular reason.

After eight months in Lagos, our relationship was only a hollow façade clinging onto some infinitesimal semblance of what we'd once been. Our daily communication had been boiled down to a scripted dialogue of "how was work/school" and a few select, abbreviated responses. We hadn't had sex in over three months; my failing to reciprocate his advances led him to finally give up any attempts. And the two of us, both singularly and as a couple, were utterly miserable. Rather than a reprieve from work and city life, the home was tense and uninviting, and I spent many nights taking too-long walks.

That festive period, we both went back to Owerri, attempting to defrost our bones from the Lagos struggles that seemed to last those entire eight months. It was there that I ended things. I was petrified of coming back to Lagos, this time truly on my own, but I was even more scared of having another year like that one. Loneliness is inevitable in a city as populated as Lagos, but there's nothing quite as isolating as being lonely with someone.

I am guilty, both of failing to communicate how I was feeling to my boyfriend and of using those other men as an emotional distraction. And it all led me right back to where I had spent all that effort avoiding — alone in Lagos.

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My Husband and I Text More Than We Talk – and That's OK

Flirtconnect Ladies , Men

My husband and I text each other like teenagers. We have far more texting conversations than we do face-to-face and it's a rare day where we go more than a couple of hours without texting each other. The fact is surprising to friends and family, who have been witness to the constant back-and-forth of our text communications. Regardless of the content —and it might be the menu for dinner, a reminder about our children's school schedule, or a simple "I love you!" — the texts fly fast and furious from sunrise to bedtime. The fact is, texting has become our primary form of communication in the past few years and it doesn't bother me a bit. I love it.

The beauty of texting is that it simplifies our lives while intensifying our connection. Sending texts is easier than making a phone call — when one of us is likely busy with work or childcare — and written communication is a good way of keeping track of shared information from dates of parent-teacher conferences to grocery lists. We go back and forth constantly, every day, sharing the minutiae of our lives with each other whether it's about an NPR interview he heard on the way to work or a photograph of our sons on their first morning of school. Texting has become a way to improve our communication with each other and stay closer amid the chaos of our daily lives.

Texting also gives us peace of mind. I carry my phone with me on my nightly walks with our dog and text him once or twice during the walk, sending a photo of a particularly gorgeous moon or asking him to feed the cat. He texts me when he arrives safely at work in the morning and again when he leaves for home in the afternoon, giving me an estimated time of arrival. I text him when I drop off the kids at school in the morning and let him know my plan for after school. And so it goes. It's not only about safety, it's about connection — feeling as if our family is together, even when we're in our various pursuits.

And yes, we even text each other from different rooms of the house. If that sounds like a warning sign of a bad relationship or an addiction to tech, let me explain: We have two young children who fill our days (and nights) with chatter and stories of their own. In the evenings, we collaborate to get them to bed. We text each other while we're getting them bathed and in bed, when they are capable of doing everything themselves but still require some supervision. Even though we're in the same house, the many tasks that are involved in family life mean that we aren't usually face-to-face and alone until after 9 p.m. at night. By that time, there are few details of each other's day that we don't already know. I feel as if I had been sitting in his middle school classroom while he taught math, I know what traffic was like both morning and afternoon, even what he had for lunch. He knows about my writing deadlines, has received links to my newest published piece, and knows how much coffee I had in one of my writing sessions at the coffee shop. We are together even when we are apart.

Some couples may feel like this is all too much connecting, too much sharing. But this isn't a new thing for us — we have always stayed this connected and involved in each other's lives, using whatever technology we've had available. Phone calls, voice mails, emails, video chat, we have made the most of all of them. And before that, we wrote letters and cards. In fact, we still do. It's not about the technology — though it has it has perks — it's about togetherness in whatever form we can get it. Our lives have been this entwined since we got married and the only thing that has changed is the mode of communication. There is nothing like spending a couple of hours lying on the couch, holding hands and talking about everything that's in our heads. But when time and circumstance doesn't allow for that, we have our text messages to keep us together.

And now you'll have to excuse me. I'm going to text my husband to see what he wants for dinner and tell him I love him.

Drop a comment below...

Monday, 28 November 2022

50 Ways to Be Romantic on the Cheap

Ways to Be Romantic on the Cheap

Saturday, 22 June 2019

Hot!!! Hotel Sex Positions That Will Make Your vacations a Memorable One.

A Room With a View

The All-Inclusive

The Four-Poster Fantasy

The Do Not Disturb

The Wake-Up Call

For Adults Only

The Upward Affair

Wednesday, 29 August 2018

How Porn Brought My Mom and Me Together

“IT TOOK ME MANY YEARS AND 3,000 MILES OF DISTANCE FOR ME TO REALIZE MY MOTHER WAS NOT JUST A PARENT, BUT A PERSON WITH LIFE EXPERIENCES OF HER OWN.”

“AS I WORKED AND BLOGGED UNDER A DIFFERENT NAME, I DIDN'T THINK SHE WOULD EVER FIND OUT. SHE DID.”

“MY MOTHER NEVER TOLD ME TO QUIT. SHE NEVER TOLD ME I HAD MADE A BAD DECISION.”

Tuesday, 28 August 2018

I Was Emotionally Unfaithful and It Poisoned My Relationship

My Husband and I Text More Than We Talk – and That's OK

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