The Over-Educated Nympho

I’m a dork. I keep a detailed list of my numbers, ie who I’ve kissed, blown, slept with, complete with notes and orgasm count. Yes, I’m serious. Come on, I’ve always been a list-maker. I like to keep track of things. Especially important things like my “number.”

Nevermind that I’ve only admitted my number to three people, one of whom was my gynecologist and very judgmental about me filling out the “more than five” box for “number of sexual partners” on the new patient form, at which point I chewed him out. Not to worry, I only saw him that one time.

Interesting statistic: I have slept with exactly half the number of people I’ve kissed. That means if I kiss someone, he has a 50/50 shot of getting laid. Hmm. Fascinating.

Sad possibility: maybe if I spent less time analyzing my numbers and then writing about it I would be getting more action.

The KegelPro is perfect for any kegel-virgin who isn’t sure if she’s “doing it” right. Or if you’re an old kegel pro, but you may be more likely to do it every day if you have a device sitting there on your night stand reminding you to do your kegels before going to bed like the good big girl you are. Which was my reasoning behind spending money on a personal trainer a couple years ago even though I knew how to work out–having a huge screaming meathead yelling in my ear made me do it, and a lot faster than I would have on my own.

I’ve got to admit, it’s an odd-looking device, as you can see from the photos here. It has a very scientific look to it (pristine white, immaculately clean-looking, precisely constructed). It could easily be more sex-toy-looking, but I assume it is the way it is because the KegelPro has a wide market and has to appeal to middle-aged (for post-pregnancy therapy, ie re-tightening) and elderly women (for incontinence) as well as the horny young ones like us. But that works to your benefit because you can leave it out and about in your bedroom without it being completely obvious what its purpose is. It could probably pass for one of those hand-squeezey things that guys use to tone their hands and forearms, if you need an almost-but-not-quite believable excuse in case your mother-in-law or little brother ever finds it. Which —shudder—does happen.

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