This is one for the ladies -- if you are a guy and you know me, you might want to run for fear of exposing yourself to too much information. Yes, this is a TMI alert... about vibrators.
Recently, through a chain of events that were quite random, I had occasion to road test a rabbit vibrator for free. Unless you live in a cave, it's impossible not to know of The Rabbit and its knockoff kin -- they did an entire Sex and the City episode where Charlotte got addicted to hers, if I'm not mistaken. By most accounts it's considered the premium in self-pleasuration (like my made-up word?).
My first-ever vibrator was -- and I still have it -- called The Octopus, and it's something Doug bought me back when we were dating because I'd been talking about it but hadn't actually acted on it. The Octopus is a big purply-fuschia thing that's not an anatomically accurate depiction of anything particularly, and it has a round octopus head near the controls; he has some small but effective tentacles that stretch down the shaft here and there, and his beady little eyes hit at just the right spot. The whole thing is very simple -- turn the dial to the right and the whole thing starts humming and throbbing, and if you keep turning it gets stronger; turn it to the left, and it weakens or shuts off. Very easy. There's enough going on that it's stimulating and never boring, but not so complicated or large to store that it becomes annoying. If it ever breaks, I'm going to cry, because I can't find it anywhere online (and believe me, I've looked on behalf of some people who were on shopping sprees).
Our success there led to him buying me another one not long before we broke up. This one was a rabbit -- one of the more basic starter-Rabbits that has a cord on the end attaching to a remote you can hold in your hand. It's more or less this one, actually. I was excited to try it because of the buzz, no pun intended, around rabbit vibrators. [Of course, this was when I lived with Lauren, so I had to sound-test it first while she wasn't home, to make sure it wasn't chainsaw-loud. It wasn't.]
And I really didn't like it. Really didn't. The pearl cluster at the end didn't really do much for me and the rabbit ears were sharp and pointy in exactly the place where I don't want something sharp and pointy. After giving it a game and patient try, I realized I was yawning, and immediately switched to my old friend the Octopus. Instant gratification. Well, almost.
Ergo, when given the chance to try another incarnation of the Rabbit at no cost, I was intrigued. I opted for this one, which sounds almost like it's part of the iPod family (plays porn while you go!) and is a waterproof, cordless, gel-based vibrator that wouldn't have any scratchy bits to upset my ladyparts. Maybe the ears on my first Rabbit were the heart of the problem, I reasoned, and possibly the more expensive Rabbit would be more deluxe.
As it turns out, though, in this case more expensive equals more complicated, and I ended up growing impatient with it and ditching it again for my tentacled friend. There are separate controls for the rabbit itself and the shaft, so you can have them moving at different power levels; in addition, you can have them move in any one of three different patterns -- around, back and forth, or a more jerky back-and-forth, although you can't have the shaft, say, on F1 while the rabbit is on F3. Both have to run on the same setting, although again, the speed can differ.
But this is where it lost me: This is where all the thinking started, and this is one self-indulgence where I think the mind can be a detriment if it's not allowed to drift languidly somewhere scorching. I found myself trying to figure out all the different settings, and what felt the most interesting, and how the speeds worked. And that process of actually using the Rabbit took me right out of the moment, and that's the problem; that's when you start to take stock of what you're doing and -- to put it crudely -- of exactly what's hanging out of you, and suddenly the whole thing starts to seem really, deeply ridiculous and hilarious, and then the mood's been killed.
In addition, it's a bit loud, this one; maybe that's a natural function of the pearls, but still, it's not terribly subtle. And the grinding knob full of pearls doesn't feel... well, like anything, really. It undulates, but not to any great sensation for me.
So my second trip with this style of vibrator didn't go much better than the first. I'm not going to give up on it -- these have a reputation for a reason, I figure -- but on this evaluation go-round, it felt more like a big buzzing inconvenience than an object of pleasure.
However, I strongly suspect that anyone who already likes the Rabbit would feel differently than I. Perhaps it's like the old days when you were either a Matt girl or a Ben girl and rarely did the twain ever meet -- maybe I am just not a Rabbit girl, and that's that, but that doesn't mean that the many Rabbit girls out there wouldn't love this thing.
I'll give this company credit though -- apparently this vibrator comes in several different bright colors (mine's pink), just like... yes... those iMacs from years ago. That's a boon to any girly girl who digs the pearls.
In a nutshell, if you don't like Rabbits already, this one probably won't change you forever; if you do, hey, here's a waterproof version that's great for your shower. And I'll keep trying, but I can't promise I won't switch out for the Octopus when I'm sick of waiting.