I’m 23, and (Almost) Everyone Still Likes Me.

I never really did like Blink-182. (Sorry, Alicia.)



Yesterday, I went shopping for some birthday presents. For myself, as one does. And literally everything I picked out was black, yellow, or a combination of the two. For those not in the know, I’m from Pittsburgh, much like Wiz Khalifa, and you know what it is. I definitely find myself missing my city and everyone in it a little bit more today.

That said, I can’t believe how lucky I am to be here. I haven’t felt as healthy as I feel now in a very, very long time. Recently, I got the chance to start writing professionally (more on that soon), and besides working on my own writing projects, I’ve been filling my time with making friends, reading, cooking more adventurously, and actually cleaning my apartment. And you know, I really like it. Sometimes, it’s a little bit lonely, but I’ve had time to run errands, learn some new things, practice my Deutsch, up my cooking game, and generally focus on feeling well. I’ve lost about a dress size, possibly around 8lb, just from walking so much, carrying groceries to and fro, and cleaning up my eating. And you know I’ve been having wine and beer like everyday, so it’s not some deprivation bullshit. I just genuinely feel so good here!

On Friday morning, all three of us are heading to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate my birthday. We booked an AirBnB apartment so Daphne could come with us and experience her third European city. Because my husband has been there before, I tried to plan a trip that would allow us to see as many new things as possible. Of course, we’re seeing the Anne Frank Haus, the red light district, and the Van Gogh museum, but we also want to see the Electric Ladyland – the Museum of Fluorescence, visit the Reypenaer for cheese tasting, drink at the Brouwerij ‘t IJ – an award-winning brewery, and try some Indonesian food (apparently a local favorite). It’s going to be a really exciting three days!

I guess this blog is sort of changing shape, and becoming more personal. Don’t worry – if you come here for toy reviews, I have a few that need to be written, and a couple more products on the way. I’m not going to stop talking about sex, toys, vaginas, and vulvas. But I am going to keep expanding my blog, taking on new topics as they come into my life.

Speaking of which, I’m looking to start a new fitness program, and I wanted to find something that I could do indoors, with minimal equipment. So, I decided to download the Blogilates App, and get the Beginners Workout Calendar. If you also use the Blogilates app, or just like Cassey’s videos, comment and let me know! I’m planning to get started on Monday, and hopefully order/purchase a suitable mat over the weekend. If you’re interested in my fitness progress, maybe I’ll start doing some fitness posts to keep myself accountable.

Little by Little

It feels like this entire wedding/moving process is taking forever, but it’s really coming up fast. The wedding is 16 days away, and we still need: a bow tie for him, shoes for me, and wedding bands for both of us. We’re thinking of going the Etsy route for bands, and I guess we need to make up our minds, like, yesterday.

In the mean time, we’ve been trying to enjoy everything we possibly can in our corner of Pittsburgh. My bridal shower was last weekend, where we enjoyed dinner at Piccolo Forno and cupcakes from Vanilla.



We have plans to visit our favorite bar – and the location of our first date – a few more times before we hop on the plane, too. (If you’re curious, it’s called the Squirrel Hill Cafe, but patrons usually call it The Cage. Google ‘at ‘n yinz is in for a good mill and maybe an Ir’n City.)

I’m personally going to be extra nostalgic for another Squirrel Hill staple: the 61C Cafe. I was a barista there for a year and a half, and it’s definitely the job (and staff) I miss the most. Unfortunately, the website hasn’t been updated since I was a sophomore in high school, so don’t go looking there for any relevant information. Facebook them instead, and if you go, get some hot chocolate.

Oh yeah, and I guess another important thing about the wedding: We haven’t figured out the ceremony yet. Or our vows. And I’ve heard that winging it isn’t a very popular or successful strategy for a ceremony that will, in large part, define the beginning of our (legal) lives together. And since we’re self-officiating, we can’t fall back on whatever the judge/minister/rabbi usually does.

Any last-minute wedding ideas? Things you wish you’d thought of? Thoughts on how to pull of a short, sweet, personal ceremony? 


It’s been a long while since I’ve shared photos from my Instagram feed, and I kind of miss seeings some visuals on this blog!  I try not to post too many toy pics in case any of you read at work or in public, but I swear, my life involves many other things besides sex products!

Beautiful days in Pittsburgh make me a little sad that, come next summer, we’ll be moving to wherever Steve gets hired!

Nathaniel is adamant that I don’t properly clean my nails and frequently takes matters into his own hands.

I took my sparkly legs out on the town with some of my best friends from high school.

Steve models our new bed: 1 full plus 1 twin.  There’s no such thing as too much bed.

Really though, my life is about 96% rats and bearded man.

…and sometimes we use the blowtorch to light toys on fire, you know, to see if they’re pure silicone. (The Doc Johnson Mood: Naughty? Not silicone.)

Be still, my heart!  Nathan Fillion, marry me.

The most perfect shirt in the history of the world.


Add me on Instagram!  My username is “nicetobelieve”.  What’s yours?



Happy Friday!  I’d like to introduce you all to the newest members of my family: Henry, Lionel, and Malcolm, from back to front.

Last Friday, we headed out to one of the faraway southern suburbs to pick out a trio of babies from the Pittsburgh Rat Lovers Club.  Recently, they’d had an influx of beebs, which of course led to my weird little heartstrings being tugged.  Steve and I packed up the car and headed out to pick & choose.

Henry caught my eye first, because as we like to say in Pittsburghese, he’s “nebby.”  He wants to know what we’re doing, all the time, whatever it is.  He wants to get into everything, but he’s scared of any unfamiliar noise, so he always ends up hauling his chubby butt back in the cage before a real discovery can be made.  But look at that little masked face!  Don’t you just want to kiss his forehead spot?  (Promise, you won’t get the plague.)

Malcolm is Steve’s favorite by far.  He’s the littlest one, even though he’s 4 months old and from the same litter as his brothers.  He was the last to warm up to us, but the first to come right out and walk onto our hands.  He’s also got a strange fondness for attempting to pry open my mouth.  By far, he’s the most adept climber, and possibly the smartest.  We set up a rattie pinata on Wednesday by filling a toilet paper tube with food and tying it to the cage lid then folding the ends, and he was the first to crack it open!

Lionel has by far the chillest personality for such a little bro, and it really blows me away how much he looks like Ewan!  He was the first one to be dragged out of the cage to sit solo on my lap, and I was really impressed by how good he was.  No scared pees or poops, and no trying to jump from the chair to the floor.  Chill, bro.

We tried to do some slow rattie intros so my old man could live with the youngins, but Henry attempted to beat him up, which resulted in Ewan literally crying for mama.  My poor old man.  Since then, Ewan seems happiest being able to live alone, but being held up to the little boys’ cage sometimes for some extra company.  He’s fascinated by them, but it’s clear Henry doesn’t want him around.  Oh well, looks like we’re a two cage household for a while longer.

Why I Don’t Go to Shows

Most people think it’s just because I’m grumpy and like to be able to sit down whenever I please.  And while they are correct, there is a much more reasonable explanation: I accidentally Carrie Bradshawed my way through Pittsburgh, so large gatherings of 20-something hipsters aren’t a safe place for me.

Last night, Steve took me to see the Dirty Projectors.  They were fantastic, and I’d actually never heard of them before because my boyfriend is way more of a hipster than I am.  As a quick little interlude about the band, I will tell you that the female vocalist is amazing and I wish she could sing me to sleep on the regular.

Obviously, this post is less about the band and more about my poor life choices that led me to this place.  Last summer, I spent four months casually dating. In the first ten minutes after we walked in the door, I ran into two guys that I’ve dated.  One was only one or two dates, and we’re friendly acquaintances, and the other was my ex-boyfriend of nine months (with whom I got back together for a very short period last September).  I introduced them both to Steve, and they were both very friendly.  Despite their friendliness, I couldn’t help feeling awkward.  In big crowds, I like to have some sense of anonymity.

Really, does anyone like to be reminded of their past dating exploits?  Shows where I’m not familiar with the band always remind me of my high school boyfriend and his tendency to make me come to shows with him and his friends and then completely ignore me.  I step into a room where an unfamiliar band is going to be playing and instantly feel awkward.

Steve handled it like I figured he would: didn’t bat an eye, shook their hands, bought me a rum & coke.  He held my hand and when I apologized for running into those guys, he looked puzzled because allegedly, I had nothing to apologize for.  He’s a champ, that one.