philly sex

What does this mean?

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Sometimes tweeting leads you to potential sexual encounters.

Follow Your Energy

I had a really important lunch today. Not because it was business- or networking-related, but because it was with an old friend who managed to screw my head on a bit straighter for me.

Since you last heard from me, I was in a sad place. I’m still in a sad place sometimes. While I don’t always make it publicly known, I am still hurting from the events of a few weeks ago. I am also in a consistent battle with my depression and anxiety disorders, which make my healing process that much more difficult.

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Are You There, Bullies? It’s Me, Kelly

I came to a realization this week.

After reading this article, I’ve come to believe that my status as a late bloomer is the result of my years of being bullied during my formative years. I’m up to speed now in that department, but back then? Forget it. I was lucky if a guy wanted to be my partner during science lab.

My awkward self at age 16:

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When I look back on my time in high school, I see a girl who couldn’t understand why not one guy was interested in her. While most of my friends had relationships during these formative years, I was forever the singleton. I was the girl who couldn’t get a date to prom — I went stag to both of them — and I was the girl who tried to be content hanging with the single ladies every weekend while the rest of my friends spent time with their pre-pubescent boyfriends.

I swear the guys I went to high school with aged far more slowly than their public school counterparts. No muscles or facial hair to speak of, as far as I know.

So I suppose my main question is, did my time as the victim of high school bullies make me into the late bloomer I am?

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dtf

Actually, yes…

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The Plight Of The Blogger

Last night I hung out with a bunch of Penn alums. When the topic of this blog came up, they posed a question: Do guys I go out with know that I write about this stuff? And does it affect their opinions of me?

In a quick, point-blank answer, YES.

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I’m A Terrible Sexter

This is generally how sexting goes for me:

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I don’t find it sexy at all, especially when an absolute stranger wants to engage in textual acts with me.

The most intense sexting experience I’ve ever had was in the summer of 2012. I had just returned from my annual trip to Outside Lands, a music festival in San Francisco. A short and tattooed Los Angeles native somehow got a phone number out of me and proceeded to text me when I got home to LA, where I was spending the summer before my senior year at Penn.

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Screen shot 2014-01-07 at 10.52.03 AMNo. I do not.

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