Dana cut her right index finger. Sad! And it's her good hand, too! There was an accident with the meat slicer at work, and the first thing I asked when I got there to drive her to the walk in clinic was, "did you cut it off or just cut it? She assured me that it was just a flap. I won't lie, it's a pretty bad cut that required four stitches and a tetanus shot, but luckily her uninsured self is indeed insured by worker's compensation law. thank god. the doctor who stitched her up could have been queer, but there wasn't any hard evidence. thankfully everything was free, including the script for pain meds -- which means... We got free darvocet! Hah! Not that I would ever break the law and take someone else's prescription. *wink*
We went to see the local vaudeville/burlesque show Saturday night, which was pretty great. It was a little too zombie-centric and I'm really not into the living dead so I was disappointed by that. But there were lots of cute girls in bras and underwear and lots and lots of lesbians. woo! I should say, though, the drinks at this particular club are awful. If you're not getting a shot or a beer, don't even waste your money. Worst cosmopolitan I've ever had, with the exception of the one time the old man behind the bar though a cosmopolitan was vodka and grenadine. Nope! Try again.
There was even one who was about the size, shape and age of Crave and it made me miss her a little bit. I'm ever so fond of her girl-boyness. Crave and I are spirits that speaks the same language, sometimes we chance to meet in a forest clearing where the sun shines down and we share precious few words together. I don't think even we know why or by what means we are so drawn to each other. Strangers.
It was nice to have a date with Dana, to be out and about in public. In the morning I have sooo much homework to do, and I am not looking forward to it. Whoever decided that college should be so much work? Am I just a slacker? I mean. I only work 35 hours a week, but I still feel overwhelmed by all the homework. Blegh. Of course it is women's studies - notorious for tons and tons of mostly redundant, although very interesting, articles and books. We shall see.
Miss you all dearly! Love and kissies!
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
22.9.08
24.8.08
get free, get free of it.
had a lovely and debauchery filled birthday party for my favorite married couple tonight. It culminated in a topless dance party in the kitchen. I had a blast the whole time, but I left feeling very very low. Maybe I exhausted my supply of serotonin, maybe it is very late at night, but for whatever reason I started feeling like I was out of place the whole time and maybe I didn't know it. I didn't want to go home, I wasn't ready to leave, but by the time we left, I think it had been overdue. I have a very weak sense of boundaries and so I easily end up overstepping them with no intention of harm. I should work on that.
Sista girl needs to get free of the shame, body shame. Shape shame. This sweet sweet lady needs to know how truly valuable she is. That is the thing I hate the most, when people have poor body image and can't murder the shame. Murder it, take out back and kill your "super" - whatever that is. "super mom" "super girlfriend" "super boy" to the rescue - kill them. Because no one should have to live up to standards that other people set for them. Get free, girl, dance for your freedom. Everyone's cheering you on except for yourself.
[Edit 11:27 a.m.] My dear girlfriend explained to me that the reason I probably felt so out of place could have been because I tried the Pot for the first time. I didn't think I had had enough for it to do anything, but with the way my mood crashed, I am willing to think that is what happened. I have not had that much fun in a really long time. Wow.
Sista girl needs to get free of the shame, body shame. Shape shame. This sweet sweet lady needs to know how truly valuable she is. That is the thing I hate the most, when people have poor body image and can't murder the shame. Murder it, take out back and kill your "super" - whatever that is. "super mom" "super girlfriend" "super boy" to the rescue - kill them. Because no one should have to live up to standards that other people set for them. Get free, girl, dance for your freedom. Everyone's cheering you on except for yourself.
[Edit 11:27 a.m.] My dear girlfriend explained to me that the reason I probably felt so out of place could have been because I tried the Pot for the first time. I didn't think I had had enough for it to do anything, but with the way my mood crashed, I am willing to think that is what happened. I have not had that much fun in a really long time. Wow.
28.6.08
Happy Freaking Pride!
Happy Freaking Pride, y'all!
Dana and I got up at an ungodly hour (9 a.m.) to drive across the bridge to the neighboring city where our metro area PRIDE is held. I'm a notorious pen stealer, especially when they're being offered for free (think, dentist, doctor, work, etc.) so we grabbed a healthy stack of them. Hmmm. Fresh pens! We also visited a wine tasting booth, listened to a gal named Julie Schurr (t-shirt, autograph, album, picture for Dana) and walked around simultaneously window shopping and trying to keep me away from the ATM.
Fun times, let me tell you! We're off to dinner at a Turkish restaurant downtown, fighting off a thunderstorm.
P.S. Dana was drooling over the cute little babies and I was melting over sexy "older" lesbians. Omg. The dyke uniform. It's the standard for a reason. I'm melting again just thinking about it!
P.P.S. We also bumped into Marian a couple times. Girl's made some progress but she's still chasing around girls who aren't interested in her. Terribly tragic.
Dana and I got up at an ungodly hour (9 a.m.) to drive across the bridge to the neighboring city where our metro area PRIDE is held. I'm a notorious pen stealer, especially when they're being offered for free (think, dentist, doctor, work, etc.) so we grabbed a healthy stack of them. Hmmm. Fresh pens! We also visited a wine tasting booth, listened to a gal named Julie Schurr (t-shirt, autograph, album, picture for Dana) and walked around simultaneously window shopping and trying to keep me away from the ATM.
Fun times, let me tell you! We're off to dinner at a Turkish restaurant downtown, fighting off a thunderstorm.
P.S. Dana was drooling over the cute little babies and I was melting over sexy "older" lesbians. Omg. The dyke uniform. It's the standard for a reason. I'm melting again just thinking about it!
P.P.S. We also bumped into Marian a couple times. Girl's made some progress but she's still chasing around girls who aren't interested in her. Terribly tragic.
6.3.08
another foul mood
This is a complaining post, feel free to ignore.
It's been awhile since I had a truly, utterly, miserable time at a club. Part of it may have been that it was the middle of the night. Part of it may have been my attitude. I also didn't know the venue, or the scene and arrived in completely overdressed. Personally, nothing kills my mood faster than being underdressed or overdressed. The drinks were weak. I went with an odd numbered group and quickly ended up isolated and sulking. I could have tried to make new friends but I can never tell who's taken and who's not and I don't want to look a fool. I could have gone home, but I was just barely keeping my grip on the hope that at some point, the fun would start.
Back at the apartment, we played spin bottle and kiss, and then spin the bottle and ask the person a question (and answer it yourself). I finished the other girl's beer that she had only sipped on - the beer got me way more drunk than anything I got at the club. This morning, I realize that I was bound and determined to get a hangover but whatever means possible. I might have succeeded. Ow... Finally, ended up sleeping alone when everyone else got to share a mat or a sleeping bag or whatever... and I don't know if I've said this before, or how many times, but I fucking hate sleeping alone. I'll sleep in a bed with a boy before I sleep alone. For real.
I think I'm grumpy because Erin is the only person I've been with lately, and last time we were together, I didn't get my turn, and then she kicked me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn... I'm still trying to fend off Marian, and I am --still-- getting craigslist emails from femmey girls.
Also: trip to see mom is back on. I'm leaving saturday and coming back thursday, and I got everything approved to be outta work, -and- my brother is coming with me! We're driving since it's totally ridiculously expensive to fly to mountainous regions.
It's time for coffee and lots, lots of water.
It's been awhile since I had a truly, utterly, miserable time at a club. Part of it may have been that it was the middle of the night. Part of it may have been my attitude. I also didn't know the venue, or the scene and arrived in completely overdressed. Personally, nothing kills my mood faster than being underdressed or overdressed. The drinks were weak. I went with an odd numbered group and quickly ended up isolated and sulking. I could have tried to make new friends but I can never tell who's taken and who's not and I don't want to look a fool. I could have gone home, but I was just barely keeping my grip on the hope that at some point, the fun would start.
Back at the apartment, we played spin bottle and kiss, and then spin the bottle and ask the person a question (and answer it yourself). I finished the other girl's beer that she had only sipped on - the beer got me way more drunk than anything I got at the club. This morning, I realize that I was bound and determined to get a hangover but whatever means possible. I might have succeeded. Ow... Finally, ended up sleeping alone when everyone else got to share a mat or a sleeping bag or whatever... and I don't know if I've said this before, or how many times, but I fucking hate sleeping alone. I'll sleep in a bed with a boy before I sleep alone. For real.
I think I'm grumpy because Erin is the only person I've been with lately, and last time we were together, I didn't get my turn, and then she kicked me out of bed at the ass crack of dawn... I'm still trying to fend off Marian, and I am --still-- getting craigslist emails from femmey girls.
Also: trip to see mom is back on. I'm leaving saturday and coming back thursday, and I got everything approved to be outta work, -and- my brother is coming with me! We're driving since it's totally ridiculously expensive to fly to mountainous regions.
It's time for coffee and lots, lots of water.
1.3.08
the last 24 hours, in review
Gemini: Significant changes in a relationship have already started to modify your attitude about expressing your emotions. If you normally talk your way around deep feelings because they make you uncomfortable, consider spending more time exploring the shadows for the magic that is hidden in your heart.
Someone please explain to me why my horoscopes always tell me what I don't want to hear? It's all this "face the facts" nonsense all the time! I'm facing the facts!! I get it! Now go back to the happy horoscopes!
In other news, Miss Avarice broker number one drinking rule last night [eat a full meal before you take the first sip of alcohol] and paid for it big time. I didn't get sick, and I didn't get a hangover, but I got pretty smashed. I knew I couldn't drive home, and I was alone, strung up in a tight corset, hoping to start feeling better. When I finally realized that food was the only thing that would help me overcome the alcohol, I called Sol and Autumn to come get me. They drove together and Sol drove my car back to their place and put my on the couch. I went over to see Kay and Ash's new house and it's so gorgeous and I'm totally jealous! But it inspired me to go find a place of my own and with Jennie's help, I located a potential roommate under rooms/shares.
We went over to see him his afternoon, Jennie and I, and would you believe that he is simply the most adorable cuban gay boy - approaching his late twenties. The two of us have rooms downstairs and another boy, Feu (not to be confused with feo [ugly], which is what I thought he said at first!) lives in an upstairs apartment. We will share the bathroom between our rooms, and he has yet to finish the house, painting it, furnishing the apartment, so that is yet to come. But I like him already! Is it okay to like him right away? It's in the part of town that I want, they're relatively clean people (there was one, lonesome dish in the sink!), the appliances are nice, the kitchen is nice, the room is big, it's 8 miles closer to work and school, it's in the center of town and it's close to the freeway. He mentioned in a conversation later in the day how fabulous he thought Jennie was, so he already gets along with at least one of my friends...
Being the total, utter, obsessive fag hag that I am, I'm completely smitten! We're meeting again tomorrow afternoon to go over some more details. Wee!
After that I took T our to dinner and we continue to have a great relationship that doesn't even center around my recent coming out episode in the least! Things are definitely looking up.
9.2.08
Marian's next bold move
I need to stop kissing girls that I don't like. I went out to Gay Bar with Marian for lesbian night, and it was alright. It was her friend's birthday but the friend had already PTFO'd and M was completely, utterly drunk. Worse than the night I got her number. Apparently she's a shy girl who's intimidated by my intelligence. Isn't there some statistic about how the more education a woman has, the harder it is for her to find a suitable mate - either because she has high standards, or because people are intimidated by her intellectual prowess? I felt a little bit insulted, but I knew she wouldn't even have the courage to tell me that I am too smart for her if she wasn't drunk. So I brushed it off.
She's just not for me, terribly not for me and I hope that she doesn't remember in the morning. Really. Truly. She had her hands all over me on the couch, asking me to come to the bathroom with her - I said people get kicked out for that. "What are you going to do with me in the bathroom?"
"I'm going to fuck your brains out"
Not exactly a panty dropper fer me... I would like to know why these women - and it's happened before - tell me that I'm so smart one minute, and the next minute they want to fuck my brains out. What is wrong with this picture? Here, you're too smart, let me fuck some of your brains out and then we'll be on the same level. Right? No. I know it's just a figure of speech. It just kills me. I told her, well, that might be nice but you know you're pretty drunk and no one's ever made me orgasm before..." She was feeling confident: "Yeah, well I'm not like everybody else, you've never been with me so how do you know I can't do it?" I was totally embarrassed her hands literally in my shirt. All she wanted to do was kiss and our styles are absolutely incompatible.
Ugh. I feel gross. So incredibly gross. Partly because I haven't been feeling well, partly because I spent all night trying to act indifferent but she was being so brave and persistent. But seriously. I need to explain in very clear terms to her that I am not, under any circumstances, drunk or sober, interested in a relationship of any kind - even a purely sexual one. It is simply not going to happen.
The bar tender's kinda cute though. But I bet they get hit on all the time and don't even care. I went out with the bouncer a couple of times back in like 2003 or something when Jay was trying to hook me up with all his friends. She doesn't remember me. I don't think she'd be into me. But what do I know?
{{i'm at my fattest weight again, and it's upsetting me. in general, i don't get hung up on my body, but i'm pretty fucken displeased with those numbers at the moment.}}
I want to see Erin again. "Single butch looking for TLC - 30" was the title to her craigslist ad. I wonder if anyone else answered. I'd rather skip the drinks next time, though... She's so tender and gentle.
She's just not for me, terribly not for me and I hope that she doesn't remember in the morning. Really. Truly. She had her hands all over me on the couch, asking me to come to the bathroom with her - I said people get kicked out for that. "What are you going to do with me in the bathroom?"
"I'm going to fuck your brains out"
Not exactly a panty dropper fer me... I would like to know why these women - and it's happened before - tell me that I'm so smart one minute, and the next minute they want to fuck my brains out. What is wrong with this picture? Here, you're too smart, let me fuck some of your brains out and then we'll be on the same level. Right? No. I know it's just a figure of speech. It just kills me. I told her, well, that might be nice but you know you're pretty drunk and no one's ever made me orgasm before..." She was feeling confident: "Yeah, well I'm not like everybody else, you've never been with me so how do you know I can't do it?" I was totally embarrassed her hands literally in my shirt. All she wanted to do was kiss and our styles are absolutely incompatible.
Ugh. I feel gross. So incredibly gross. Partly because I haven't been feeling well, partly because I spent all night trying to act indifferent but she was being so brave and persistent. But seriously. I need to explain in very clear terms to her that I am not, under any circumstances, drunk or sober, interested in a relationship of any kind - even a purely sexual one. It is simply not going to happen.
The bar tender's kinda cute though. But I bet they get hit on all the time and don't even care. I went out with the bouncer a couple of times back in like 2003 or something when Jay was trying to hook me up with all his friends. She doesn't remember me. I don't think she'd be into me. But what do I know?
{{i'm at my fattest weight again, and it's upsetting me. in general, i don't get hung up on my body, but i'm pretty fucken displeased with those numbers at the moment.}}
I want to see Erin again. "Single butch looking for TLC - 30" was the title to her craigslist ad. I wonder if anyone else answered. I'd rather skip the drinks next time, though... She's so tender and gentle.
14.1.08
"i think she's a genius"
I just got back from visiting with Delilah. We haven't seen each other since before Christmas (before Thanksgiving maybe? I can't remember). The time has gotten between us so quickly. Our tradition has been to make Christmas really special since we do not get to be together often during the year. And, as you can see by the date on the calendar, Christmas waits for us, we do not wait on Christmas. I presented her with a shirt that was screaming her name when I first saw it, as well as a small perfume. Surprise, surprise, finally I brought another small package which, after unwrapping several unassuming layers of paper, she discovered the Rock Chick. We shall expect a full report. I'm pretty jealous, I might get one for myself. Look mom, no hands!
Being the sneaky one she is, and knowing my absolute, everlasting love for martini-style drinks, and for barware of all kinds, found for me a lovely set of 3oz martini glasses - perfect size for some double shots of whatever delicious combination I can dream up! Along with a shaker - smaller than the one I have already, so that I won't have to use the big one if I'm just shaking things up for myself. But the big hit was a long, long string of beautiful white pearls, hand knotted and perfect for that lucky blue shirt that has gotten so much attention (or rather, procured attention for me) lately. It's been a long time since I couldn't stop saying, "I'm so happy!"
I might have a problem, a glassware problem. Without looking, I can count now ten martini glasses, eight wine glasses, six shot glasses, 2 margarita glasses, 2 champagnes, 2 martini shakers, and heart shaped ice trays.
Did someone say house party? When I move into that low income housing in April, let's break it in right. I just might need to have a houseboy, too. Humor me, will you?
P.S. I still haven't gotten revenge on Patri ci a - that revenge is forthcoming.
Being the sneaky one she is, and knowing my absolute, everlasting love for martini-style drinks, and for barware of all kinds, found for me a lovely set of 3oz martini glasses - perfect size for some double shots of whatever delicious combination I can dream up! Along with a shaker - smaller than the one I have already, so that I won't have to use the big one if I'm just shaking things up for myself. But the big hit was a long, long string of beautiful white pearls, hand knotted and perfect for that lucky blue shirt that has gotten so much attention (or rather, procured attention for me) lately. It's been a long time since I couldn't stop saying, "I'm so happy!"
I might have a problem, a glassware problem. Without looking, I can count now ten martini glasses, eight wine glasses, six shot glasses, 2 margarita glasses, 2 champagnes, 2 martini shakers, and heart shaped ice trays.
Did someone say house party? When I move into that low income housing in April, let's break it in right. I just might need to have a houseboy, too. Humor me, will you?
P.S. I still haven't gotten revenge on Patri ci a - that revenge is forthcoming.
5.1.08
a change of luck
I had noticed her walking around alone, doing that sit-down, stand-up, walk-around dance that people who are in bars alone do. Looking drunk and sheepish. At 02:30 she sat down near where my friends and I were congregated. For the third time tonight. I'd decided I'd had enough of waiting for her to say something to me so I made the move. I smiled at her until she caught my gaze and blushed. Then, I plopped myself down next to her and delivered my classic line.
"Are you here by yourself?" [coy femme smile]
"Yes -- Actually my friends were here. they went home but I wanted to stay."
"Yeahh, that happens to me all the time!
"I'm a little bit drunk so I'm getting a cab."
"Well that's good."
"So, how old are you?" (always the first question followed by "are you bi?")
"I'm twenty-something, what about you?"
"How old do I look?"
"I'm not good at guessing games."
"I'm twenty-six."
[...]
"Are you from around here?"
"Yeah, I grew up here."
"I see. I live in South Town; moved here from Texas but I'm not from there, I only lived there a year"
"Oh really? Where are you from?"
"New York. I move around alot, I like to travel and I want to see everything before I die."
"Me too, I love travel, I've moved 7 times in 2 years."
She took the last sip of her water and said she'd be right back. I was plotting. Marian was wearing a blue striped polo, loose jeans and sneakers - a common butch sighting in this particular club. I went to the bar and stood up on my tip toes so that I would be seen (I'm pretty short) - ordered my new favorite drink - disaronno on ice. It's a nice break from the incessant cosmopolitans and shots of goldschlager.
When she came around again, I was leaning my back against a pillar, faced away from the others.
"Are you here with friends?"
"yeah, them" [I pointed]
"See that girl over there? She's got my heart. I mean, I'm not with her or anything, but if you ever have a conversation with her, she'll jut blow your mind."
Remember this is drunk talk, she probably wouldn't have said something that exaggerated while sober. I listened intently as she continued:
"She's really amazing, but she's untouchable..."
"She's pretty girly - do you like girly girls?"
"Heh, yeah, I guess I do..."
"Well, if she's untouchable, maybe you need to find someone... touchable?"
My breast was gingerly touching her elbow, her arm.
"I just got out of a real bad relationship. You know when you put your heart into something, when you think she's the one..." The rest of that sentence isn't important. What she basically said was she got her heart smashed and she doesn't have any intentions of letting that happen again. She said she believes that there's someone out there for everyone. I find it hard to believe there is someone out there for everyone. "So what's your story? What's your deal?"
"My deal? uh... I dunno." I laughed nervously.
"You know, do you date girls only? Do you date boys too?"
It was inevitable. Remember, she's drunk and heartbroken. Why do I gravitate toward these bleeding hearts? It's chronic, I swear. The last three women I've talked to have had these sob stories. Marian tonight, that butch latina from the next town over, and then back in October, that musician from my school who just broke up with one of my old classmates a week before she answered my Craigslist ad! No more bleeding hearts, Miss Avarice! Listen to the voice of reason!
"I only date girls."
"Are you single?"
"Um... yeah! But I haven't actually had a serious relationship before." [Maybe not the best thing to come out and say immediately, but why save it for later? Why not just throw it out there and get it over with?]
My memory is already missing some of the conversation. She finally [finally] asked me what I drink, said I should get drunk and enjoy myself. Just as I stepped up to the bar, the lights came on. Damn! Three a.m. Not even three, quarter-to-three and last call had come and gone without me realizing. Instead, she said next time, "I'll get it for you - when will you be here again?"
"Honey I work nights like you, I work Fridays but today I got out early..."
"Ok, well I'll give you my number and you can call me, instead."
So she gave it to me, gave me the spelling of her name, she saw my face in the lights. My friends rushed past us in the direction of the door.
"I guess they're leaving."
"You'll call me right?"
"Yeah if you can get whatsherface out of your head."
"I can do that, no problem."
"Then, I'll call. It was very nice to meet you"
She reached out for a handshake, I took her hand and I leaned in with my other arm for a friendly hug and stole one of those sideswipe kisses - the kind where just the corner of your lips touch the corner of the other person's lips. It's kinda like cheating.
I skipped out the door, hurried to my car through the chilled air and sketchy neighborhood, grinning.
"Are you here by yourself?" [coy femme smile]
"Yes -- Actually my friends were here. they went home but I wanted to stay."
"Yeahh, that happens to me all the time!
"I'm a little bit drunk so I'm getting a cab."
"Well that's good."
"So, how old are you?" (always the first question followed by "are you bi?")
"I'm twenty-something, what about you?"
"How old do I look?"
"I'm not good at guessing games."
"I'm twenty-six."
[...]
"Are you from around here?"
"Yeah, I grew up here."
"I see. I live in South Town; moved here from Texas but I'm not from there, I only lived there a year"
"Oh really? Where are you from?"
"New York. I move around alot, I like to travel and I want to see everything before I die."
"Me too, I love travel, I've moved 7 times in 2 years."
She took the last sip of her water and said she'd be right back. I was plotting. Marian was wearing a blue striped polo, loose jeans and sneakers - a common butch sighting in this particular club. I went to the bar and stood up on my tip toes so that I would be seen (I'm pretty short) - ordered my new favorite drink - disaronno on ice. It's a nice break from the incessant cosmopolitans and shots of goldschlager.
When she came around again, I was leaning my back against a pillar, faced away from the others.
"Are you here with friends?"
"yeah, them" [I pointed]
"See that girl over there? She's got my heart. I mean, I'm not with her or anything, but if you ever have a conversation with her, she'll jut blow your mind."
Remember this is drunk talk, she probably wouldn't have said something that exaggerated while sober. I listened intently as she continued:
"She's really amazing, but she's untouchable..."
"She's pretty girly - do you like girly girls?"
"Heh, yeah, I guess I do..."
"Well, if she's untouchable, maybe you need to find someone... touchable?"
My breast was gingerly touching her elbow, her arm.
"I just got out of a real bad relationship. You know when you put your heart into something, when you think she's the one..." The rest of that sentence isn't important. What she basically said was she got her heart smashed and she doesn't have any intentions of letting that happen again. She said she believes that there's someone out there for everyone. I find it hard to believe there is someone out there for everyone. "So what's your story? What's your deal?"
"My deal? uh... I dunno." I laughed nervously.
"You know, do you date girls only? Do you date boys too?"
It was inevitable. Remember, she's drunk and heartbroken. Why do I gravitate toward these bleeding hearts? It's chronic, I swear. The last three women I've talked to have had these sob stories. Marian tonight, that butch latina from the next town over, and then back in October, that musician from my school who just broke up with one of my old classmates a week before she answered my Craigslist ad! No more bleeding hearts, Miss Avarice! Listen to the voice of reason!
"I only date girls."
"Are you single?"
"Um... yeah! But I haven't actually had a serious relationship before." [Maybe not the best thing to come out and say immediately, but why save it for later? Why not just throw it out there and get it over with?]
My memory is already missing some of the conversation. She finally [finally] asked me what I drink, said I should get drunk and enjoy myself. Just as I stepped up to the bar, the lights came on. Damn! Three a.m. Not even three, quarter-to-three and last call had come and gone without me realizing. Instead, she said next time, "I'll get it for you - when will you be here again?"
"Honey I work nights like you, I work Fridays but today I got out early..."
"Ok, well I'll give you my number and you can call me, instead."
So she gave it to me, gave me the spelling of her name, she saw my face in the lights. My friends rushed past us in the direction of the door.
"I guess they're leaving."
"You'll call me right?"
"Yeah if you can get whatsherface out of your head."
"I can do that, no problem."
"Then, I'll call. It was very nice to meet you"
She reached out for a handshake, I took her hand and I leaned in with my other arm for a friendly hug and stole one of those sideswipe kisses - the kind where just the corner of your lips touch the corner of the other person's lips. It's kinda like cheating.
I skipped out the door, hurried to my car through the chilled air and sketchy neighborhood, grinning.
31.12.07
New Year's Celebration
Tonight, and only tonight, Miss Avarice will be featured at a house party. Donning her lucky blue top (shown below), she will entice the party goers with her goods and services. Any interested parties should send cheer to her direct telephone line, in return for which she will send directions and add your name to the guest list.
Have a good one, kids! It only comes once a year!
Have a good one, kids! It only comes once a year!
23.12.07
2 blisters, 1 bite, 0 frowns
I said, "I'm leaving soon, did you wanna talk before I leave?"
Earlier I had seen her looking bored ... down. I asked her if she came here to have fun and she nodded yes. I asked, "are you doing that??" she nodded no. She didn't want to dance, but maybe she might like to talk. I said she could come find me when she would like to do that.
An older butch latina, probably in her early forties. Newly single, she's moved out and all, it's a done deal. She was in that breakup "daze" where you're trying to have fun but all you can feel is incomplete. At least that's how it seems to me. Since I've never had the misfortune of a breakup. (We won't count the two that don't count).
"So, how old are you?"
"Well, I'm twenty---x"
"ahh. Don't you wanna know how old I am?"
"It doesn't matter to me."
"OK, so are you bi or gay?"
I crossed my arms and gave an indignant look. "Hmm, so it's because I'm femme right?" She nodded "well, yeah..."
"I'm a dyke"
"Ok, well that's good - Are you into older women?"
"Yeah, well, seems like all the butches my age are into skinny girls or each other."
I shouldn't have said that. I should have just said yes. Because I'm increasingly finding that I am. I can't find that "classic butch" type in anyone my age. Around here, they're quite frequently thugs or jocks that fit those obnoxious stereotypes. I want a gentleman (butch) who's intelligent and mannerly, but not uptight.
Later.
"So, have you ever had a lover?"
Is that what it's called? I've never heard it called that in anything except old lesbian gender books from the 90's.
"Uhh... see, that's kind of a complicated question."
"What, it's not complicated!"
"I guess, technically no. But um. It's because I only came out a year ago - I mean, I knew waaay before then, but ..."
She walked me to my car. I told her I was glad she was able to get out and relax. She wished me a safe drive home.
Am I lowering my standards by consciously including older women in my pursuit of companionship? Or does this still count as exploring my options? I like grown up butches that don't actually look/behave like 15 year old skater boys. If grown ups are the only ones who can match my style, then what's the big deal?
Gem was dancing again tonight, and she makes me question my no-femmes rule. She totally nibbled on my cleavage and bit me -AGAIN-. Didn't leave a mark. I was wearing a knit top with a serious low plunge. And this sugary, tiny little confection, Lizzy who looks like a cheerleader but she's so incredibly giving! She called me a shy girl, but little does she know that she's one of those femmes that makes me want to top. Luna asked if the drinks she made me a couple weeks ago had scared me away because I hadn't been back. Of course, Miss Avarice cannot be scared by alcohol! I guess I have better things to do than go out drinking alone, eh? That's a good sign. I ran out of tip money too fast, they deserved it.
Earlier I had seen her looking bored ... down. I asked her if she came here to have fun and she nodded yes. I asked, "are you doing that??" she nodded no. She didn't want to dance, but maybe she might like to talk. I said she could come find me when she would like to do that.
An older butch latina, probably in her early forties. Newly single, she's moved out and all, it's a done deal. She was in that breakup "daze" where you're trying to have fun but all you can feel is incomplete. At least that's how it seems to me. Since I've never had the misfortune of a breakup. (We won't count the two that don't count).
"So, how old are you?"
"Well, I'm twenty---x"
"ahh. Don't you wanna know how old I am?"
"It doesn't matter to me."
"OK, so are you bi or gay?"
I crossed my arms and gave an indignant look. "Hmm, so it's because I'm femme right?" She nodded "well, yeah..."
"I'm a dyke"
"Ok, well that's good - Are you into older women?"
"Yeah, well, seems like all the butches my age are into skinny girls or each other."
I shouldn't have said that. I should have just said yes. Because I'm increasingly finding that I am. I can't find that "classic butch" type in anyone my age. Around here, they're quite frequently thugs or jocks that fit those obnoxious stereotypes. I want a gentleman (butch) who's intelligent and mannerly, but not uptight.
Later.
"So, have you ever had a lover?"
Is that what it's called? I've never heard it called that in anything except old lesbian gender books from the 90's.
"Uhh... see, that's kind of a complicated question."
"What, it's not complicated!"
"I guess, technically no. But um. It's because I only came out a year ago - I mean, I knew waaay before then, but ..."
She walked me to my car. I told her I was glad she was able to get out and relax. She wished me a safe drive home.
Am I lowering my standards by consciously including older women in my pursuit of companionship? Or does this still count as exploring my options? I like grown up butches that don't actually look/behave like 15 year old skater boys. If grown ups are the only ones who can match my style, then what's the big deal?
Gem was dancing again tonight, and she makes me question my no-femmes rule. She totally nibbled on my cleavage and bit me -AGAIN-. Didn't leave a mark. I was wearing a knit top with a serious low plunge. And this sugary, tiny little confection, Lizzy who looks like a cheerleader but she's so incredibly giving! She called me a shy girl, but little does she know that she's one of those femmes that makes me want to top. Luna asked if the drinks she made me a couple weeks ago had scared me away because I hadn't been back. Of course, Miss Avarice cannot be scared by alcohol! I guess I have better things to do than go out drinking alone, eh? That's a good sign. I ran out of tip money too fast, they deserved it.
17.12.07
my turn
I set out tonight to make someone feel special but my plan backfired and instead, I felt special! We had planned on going out for gelato but the gelateria was closed when we got there, so instead we had appetizers and dessert at The Cheesecake Factory. My friend paid for everything except my martini - it's been ages since that happened. I'm always treating people to fancy dinners. Afterward, she presented me with a silver locket necklace which went perfectly with my black party dress. It was the first chance I'd had to wear the dress, and now I have a lovely piece of jewelry and a special memory every time I wear it. The lighting was bad so we didn't get pictures, but I think I prefer it that way. It requires me to be conscious on remembering.
I missed the chance to catch up with my sister afterward, but I think I'm going to kidnap her tomorrow sometime. I think there's boy drama.
In other news, went dancing at a bar with some girls from church last night. There was a whole flock of dykes having a blast - new ones that I've never seen before! Hah. They do exist! To my disappointment, the one I had my eye on was quite obviously attached. I have a little bit of a headache that started on the way home from the restaurant. I'd had a killer chocolate martini and I've been slacking in the area of hydration lately. It's either dehydration or a period that's looming somewhere on the horizon. I think I'm going to just have it this week instead of waiting til Christmas.
I missed the chance to catch up with my sister afterward, but I think I'm going to kidnap her tomorrow sometime. I think there's boy drama.
In other news, went dancing at a bar with some girls from church last night. There was a whole flock of dykes having a blast - new ones that I've never seen before! Hah. They do exist! To my disappointment, the one I had my eye on was quite obviously attached. I have a little bit of a headache that started on the way home from the restaurant. I'd had a killer chocolate martini and I've been slacking in the area of hydration lately. It's either dehydration or a period that's looming somewhere on the horizon. I think I'm going to just have it this week instead of waiting til Christmas.
26.11.07
assets and endowments
Saturday night, when I went out to the burlesque show, the other dancer, who has been there any time I've seen Gem, came over and said she just had to touch me. Luna. Bartends at a bar a LOT closer to my house. I'm going there tonight to get that drink she offered to buy me. This time, I think I've learned my lesson. Luna said I was cute and asked why she hadn't seen me before - of course she has, I reminded her about the Halloween Show. She remembered it the travesty that it was. She asked me to stop by her other bar so she could make me a drink.
This time, I said yes.
This time, I said yes.
21.10.07
stripped
I didn't think I was going to go through with it! I thoroughly expected myself to be lying home moping at 2 in the morning wishing that I'd been courageous. I skipped the flogger and cuffs, decided that might be overkill for this particular occasion. When I got out of work, I called my host to see if I should still attempt to make an appearance at the party. She said the party was still hopping, and sounded quite friendly (that was the first time we'd spoken by phone) and cheerful so that gave my bravery a kick start. I arrived and I was totally weirded out by all the strangers - I knew absolutely no one. [I was wearing my pinstripe pants and a black button-down shirt and my big pearls (not the little ones) so I was fully covered - the invitation promised that those not wearing a costume would be stripped upon arrival!] Tried to look around for her, tried to make a friend or something but nothing was working out, when a surly character appeared and said hey. I lifted the hat atop a smiling face and recognized Jenn - the first time I get to meet her face to face and she's cross dressing (in a tongue-in-cheek kinda way, it's a costume). Eye-liner mustache was starting to wear off but she smiled and grabbed me a Blue Moon from the fridge by which I was standing, said, "this is my sister!" pointing to a masqued figure, and then rushed off to care for some sickly guests out on the front lawn. I only spoke to her - and only briefly, a sentence or two - about 4 times for the hour and a half I was there. But that's okay. I found that smiling and having an open posture made it easy for people to approach me, or to be comfortable around me. The third time we bumped into each other I said...
"I am wearing a costume, you know."
"What? What kind of a costume is that?"
"Well... you promised me I'd be stripped at the door..."
"Ah, I see, well if your costume's under there, why don't you take off your clothes?"
"Come on, you know bottoms don't undress themselves!"
"Like this..."
She started to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, and called to a girl nearby, saying "come on over, we've got to strip this one!"
"You missed me at the door!" I said. They slipped the shirt off my shoulders revealing the black corset and all my pale skin and cleavage. The accomplice said, "Well, you can keep your undies on - are you wearing any?" I nodded yes. "Are you sure we can take off your pants?" How could I pass that one up? "I'll be terribly disappointed if you don't" I pouted. She said, "Ok Jenn I'm going to need your help on this one!" They unbuttoned, unclasped, unzipped my slacks and started pulling them down my thighs, uncovered the lacy band of thigh high fishnet stockings and the shiny black boy-short panties... down, down to my knees, down to my ankles, they struggled to get them over the heels of my shoes, but finally oh finally I was free! In the living room in front of a bunch of strangers. [Wow, am I a little bit of an attention whore? Yeah... guilty as charged] And that is how I spent the rest of the night. Corset, panties, stockings, heels. And so cleverly disguised by my "work clothes". I got what I wanted out of the evening, and said, wow, now that I'm in my real costume I need another beer. The second one tasted almost as good as the first.
Finally around 3:30 Jenn said she was headed for bed. No joke, I'd be exhausted, too. We hugged and I sent her off to bed and went to the car to come home.
Analysis: Jenn's sister called me amazing, she had encouraged me to take off my own clothes earlier, but that's not how I wanted it. I need to start claiming the word amazing for myself. I sit in it like a robe and it suits me. I am amazing. Also, I created Miss Avarice in hopes of recreating myself. Her adventures are looking increasingly similar to mine. I'm becoming Miss Avarice. Hah! Also, I'm still trying to figure out why I'm more comfortable with someone else taking my clothes off rather than me doing. I thought it had to do with bottoming, but now feel like it's a weakness that I need to overcome - that maybe I'm deficient if I can't take off my own clothes in front of someone else. I can. But I much much prefer to be undressed by someone else... weird.
22.9.07
Poll for the Bottoms
(still drunk)
So, as you can see on the left-hand-side-bar, the bottoms have taken the cake. I think there have been almost 5 new votes for "bottom" in the last week or so. Would you mind introducing yourselves and answering a question for me?
So. How the hell does one get "picked up" at a bar. As I have never experienced this, and would dearly love to experience it... can you leave me some pointers?
Thanks dollies!
So, as you can see on the left-hand-side-bar, the bottoms have taken the cake. I think there have been almost 5 new votes for "bottom" in the last week or so. Would you mind introducing yourselves and answering a question for me?
So. How the hell does one get "picked up" at a bar. As I have never experienced this, and would dearly love to experience it... can you leave me some pointers?
Thanks dollies!
drunk blogging round 2 *ding*
Again. Proof that I'm a cheap drunk. I had a cosmo and a shot of goldschlager. damn i love that stuff. it's so potent. and so pleasant.
got off work tonight hoping to catch the last of a birthday bash just-outta-town but found out from a trusted source that the party had already disbanded. so i said to myself. damnit. i work hard. and they let me off an hour early. that's just enough time to get drunk! so i set out to go the damn bar and make some damn friends, damnit. so i did.
come to think of it. this is the same bar where i got drunk last time i drunk blogged. anyways. i went to the damn bar, got myself a damn drink, and made myself some damn friends.
Asi que... en el clúb, yo conocí a Mari, que tiene 41 años. "Soy una lesbiana" me dijo. Pero no sé si lo creo. Ella tiene tres hijas. Y nietos. Sé divorció su esposo. Yo bailé con su sobrino, y él me introduzó a Mari. haha, que feliz fue su sobrino, y amable. Ella me revelé unas fotos de su família. Yo olvidé que la cultura latina se pone mucho valor entre la institución de família (en qualquiera forma existe). Lamenté que no tuve fotos de mi propio família. Nosotras contamos nuestras historietas. Y al instante, estuvimos hermanas. Su hija mas grande estaba allí... una lesbiana también. esto es porque a mi me gusta vivir en Florida. La cultura de los latinos me encanta...
So... at the bar, I met Mari, 41 years old. "I'm a lesbian" she told me. But I don't know if I believe that. She has three daughters. Grandchildren. She's divorced from her husband. I danced with her nephew and he introduced me to her. hah! What a happy chap. She showed me pictures of her family. I forgot that latin culture places much value on the institution of family (in whatever form it exists). I regretted that I didn't have pictures of my own family. We recounted our stories. Instantly, we were sisters. Her eldest daughter was there... a lesbian as well. This is why I love Florida life. The latin culture captivates me.
Ok. back to English. I was drunk when I left, but about 4 miles down the road I realized the shot of Goldschlager was just starting to hit. You have to give it about a half hour to really take its effect. I got home to a lovely box from Powell's! You'll recal I've been waiting for this for like. Over two weeks now.
Butch/Femnme: Inside Lesbian gender
Femme/Butch: New Considerations on the Way We Want to Go (this one has an article by a Women's Studies professor at my University, whose class I will likely be taking in the Spring.
and my favorite: *drum roll*
Set in Stone: Butch-on-Butch Erotica.
I am SO. F'ckn. Excited! About this one! In fact, I'm going to make myself a butter shot (will likely consist of a swig from the irish cream bottle and a swig from the butterscotch schnapps bottle) and read me some fucken hot butch erotica. YES!
In other news, I'm performing well at work, which makes my bosses happy. And I'm again considering an occupation in the ... performance arts. I think be one hot ass burlesque dancer. And damnit I should at least try before I get too old. They oughta be lining up to see my pasties! Yowza!
Ok. Very drunk. Must. Stop. Typing. agh!
got off work tonight hoping to catch the last of a birthday bash just-outta-town but found out from a trusted source that the party had already disbanded. so i said to myself. damnit. i work hard. and they let me off an hour early. that's just enough time to get drunk! so i set out to go the damn bar and make some damn friends, damnit. so i did.
come to think of it. this is the same bar where i got drunk last time i drunk blogged. anyways. i went to the damn bar, got myself a damn drink, and made myself some damn friends.
Asi que... en el clúb, yo conocí a Mari, que tiene 41 años. "Soy una lesbiana" me dijo. Pero no sé si lo creo. Ella tiene tres hijas. Y nietos. Sé divorció su esposo. Yo bailé con su sobrino, y él me introduzó a Mari. haha, que feliz fue su sobrino, y amable. Ella me revelé unas fotos de su família. Yo olvidé que la cultura latina se pone mucho valor entre la institución de família (en qualquiera forma existe). Lamenté que no tuve fotos de mi propio família. Nosotras contamos nuestras historietas. Y al instante, estuvimos hermanas. Su hija mas grande estaba allí... una lesbiana también. esto es porque a mi me gusta vivir en Florida. La cultura de los latinos me encanta...
So... at the bar, I met Mari, 41 years old. "I'm a lesbian" she told me. But I don't know if I believe that. She has three daughters. Grandchildren. She's divorced from her husband. I danced with her nephew and he introduced me to her. hah! What a happy chap. She showed me pictures of her family. I forgot that latin culture places much value on the institution of family (in whatever form it exists). I regretted that I didn't have pictures of my own family. We recounted our stories. Instantly, we were sisters. Her eldest daughter was there... a lesbian as well. This is why I love Florida life. The latin culture captivates me.
Ok. back to English. I was drunk when I left, but about 4 miles down the road I realized the shot of Goldschlager was just starting to hit. You have to give it about a half hour to really take its effect. I got home to a lovely box from Powell's! You'll recal I've been waiting for this for like. Over two weeks now.
Butch/Femnme: Inside Lesbian gender
Femme/Butch: New Considerations on the Way We Want to Go (this one has an article by a Women's Studies professor at my University, whose class I will likely be taking in the Spring.
and my favorite: *drum roll*
Set in Stone: Butch-on-Butch Erotica.
I am SO. F'ckn. Excited! About this one! In fact, I'm going to make myself a butter shot (will likely consist of a swig from the irish cream bottle and a swig from the butterscotch schnapps bottle) and read me some fucken hot butch erotica. YES!
In other news, I'm performing well at work, which makes my bosses happy. And I'm again considering an occupation in the ... performance arts. I think be one hot ass burlesque dancer. And damnit I should at least try before I get too old. They oughta be lining up to see my pasties! Yowza!
Ok. Very drunk. Must. Stop. Typing. agh!
5.9.07
drunk blog
i wanted to write while i was still slightly tipswy.
am still slightly tipsy. yey! tonight was "Lesbian Invasion of the Gay Dive Bar" night!
so. questions; comments.
1) why is it so fkn hard to type when you've only had a little bit to drink? I swear I am such a cheap drunk. One drink and I was buzzed, two drinks and I was sufficiently tipsy and three would have been overkill. Kay remembers what happened last time I had three drinks. Oh, no, that will not be happening again. Didn't pass out or puke, but she did lead me by the hand out of the now-defunct Suncoast resort.
I like that phrase. "now-defunct." the resort was actually on the very eve of going "defunct" that night.
2) butches. so why is it that I don't personally know any butches who are into femmes? I really don't get it, like. they just go at it with each other. of course. I'm not complaining that I get to watch. That is some hot shit, right there. I swear if there were butch porn, like real live butches fucking, you would never see me in the sunlight ever again! EVER.
Image: butch #1 sitting on the edge of the pool table. butch #2 kneeling on the table behind her, and the femme. me in a black tank and skirt, my new heels. tucked between those lovely butch thighs. ugh. and i do my uuuhh.
Image: butch #1 and #2 kissing; in the foreground, the femme is trying to get their attention, she leans over and puts her ass up to them and shows such tasty cleavage. whee! of course, it doesn't work, the two of them are too involved in smooching. I'll have to find the shot. figure out how to anonymise it.
3) awwwwwww. pooor sweet sad, drunk butches! you know. when I see butch tears, my instinct is to hold them and kiss them and stroke their faces and arms and love on them like nothing else matters. butch #1 had a bit too much to drink and spent the better part of an hour puking. now I'm no help at all with that, but afterwards she was sittin' on the floor with little tears just kinda leaking out her sweet sweet eyes. :( so i sat down on the floor with her and held her hand. When they took her out to the car, I stood next to the open window and stroked her arm and face and asked her if her tummy was better, and cooed sweet consolations to her. I wanted to tell her she was still strong, but i couldn't imagine it coming out the way i intended it. And she's not going to remember me in the morning, anyway.
4) Kay tried to give me hickies on my... arms? There's nothing there, and I'm so disappointed. I still don't even have any bruises from other her mfk'n fish tank! and at one point it was resting on MY LEG.
5) It was my first time at that particular dive bar, so I had a "virgin" shot with the drag queen, she remarked at how lively my breasts remained, lacking proper support equipment ;) She's the most precious, precious queen in all the land, and her first number featured a lovely, slinky seafoam gown with a rosy accents. She's like. Legendary. The Legendary Apple Love.
(and now, to proofread my drunken ramblings)
am still slightly tipsy. yey! tonight was "Lesbian Invasion of the Gay Dive Bar" night!
so. questions; comments.
1) why is it so fkn hard to type when you've only had a little bit to drink? I swear I am such a cheap drunk. One drink and I was buzzed, two drinks and I was sufficiently tipsy and three would have been overkill. Kay remembers what happened last time I had three drinks. Oh, no, that will not be happening again. Didn't pass out or puke, but she did lead me by the hand out of the now-defunct Suncoast resort.
I like that phrase. "now-defunct." the resort was actually on the very eve of going "defunct" that night.
2) butches. so why is it that I don't personally know any butches who are into femmes? I really don't get it, like. they just go at it with each other. of course. I'm not complaining that I get to watch. That is some hot shit, right there. I swear if there were butch porn, like real live butches fucking, you would never see me in the sunlight ever again! EVER.
Image: butch #1 sitting on the edge of the pool table. butch #2 kneeling on the table behind her, and the femme. me in a black tank and skirt, my new heels. tucked between those lovely butch thighs. ugh. and i do my uuuhh.
Image: butch #1 and #2 kissing; in the foreground, the femme is trying to get their attention, she leans over and puts her ass up to them and shows such tasty cleavage. whee! of course, it doesn't work, the two of them are too involved in smooching. I'll have to find the shot. figure out how to anonymise it.
3) awwwwwww. pooor sweet sad, drunk butches! you know. when I see butch tears, my instinct is to hold them and kiss them and stroke their faces and arms and love on them like nothing else matters. butch #1 had a bit too much to drink and spent the better part of an hour puking. now I'm no help at all with that, but afterwards she was sittin' on the floor with little tears just kinda leaking out her sweet sweet eyes. :( so i sat down on the floor with her and held her hand. When they took her out to the car, I stood next to the open window and stroked her arm and face and asked her if her tummy was better, and cooed sweet consolations to her. I wanted to tell her she was still strong, but i couldn't imagine it coming out the way i intended it. And she's not going to remember me in the morning, anyway.
4) Kay tried to give me hickies on my... arms? There's nothing there, and I'm so disappointed. I still don't even have any bruises from other her mfk'n fish tank! and at one point it was resting on MY LEG.
5) It was my first time at that particular dive bar, so I had a "virgin" shot with the drag queen, she remarked at how lively my breasts remained, lacking proper support equipment ;) She's the most precious, precious queen in all the land, and her first number featured a lovely, slinky seafoam gown with a rosy accents. She's like. Legendary. The Legendary Apple Love.
(and now, to proofread my drunken ramblings)
18.8.07
Do it With Tenderness
If you wish to arouse desire in me,
do it with the tart red strawberries of summer
with sugar and cream and clean, wet fruit
you can bring me to knees, begging
the taste of raspberries,
and smooth, dark chocolate
you can make me tremble, softly
sipping at chilled chambord
If you wish to arouse my affections,
do it with grace, with tenderness
speak to me in the language of delight
you can make me smile, bashful
just run your fingers through my hair
kiss my hand, my palm, my forehead
you can make me blush, I'm easy
leaning on your shoulder
do it with the tart red strawberries of summer
with sugar and cream and clean, wet fruit
you can bring me to knees, begging
the taste of raspberries,
and smooth, dark chocolate
you can make me tremble, softly
sipping at chilled chambord
If you wish to arouse my affections,
do it with grace, with tenderness
speak to me in the language of delight
you can make me smile, bashful
just run your fingers through my hair
kiss my hand, my palm, my forehead
you can make me blush, I'm easy
leaning on your shoulder
1.6.07
lesson learned
a really great looking, butchy go-go dancer offered me a drink when I told her we had the same sun sign. i had to drive home, so without thinking i frowned and said, "i have to drive home!"
i'll just have to go see her some other time. see if i can't get a second offer. she still gave me a really great show at the bar on saturday night. unfortunately i think i blanked out... eh...
lesson learned: when a stripper offers you a drink, do not refuse lest someone (namely: the friend who was accompanying you) offer to just go ahead and shoot you in the face now instead of waiting til you get home.
i'll just have to go see her some other time. see if i can't get a second offer. she still gave me a really great show at the bar on saturday night. unfortunately i think i blanked out... eh...
lesson learned: when a stripper offers you a drink, do not refuse lest someone (namely: the friend who was accompanying you) offer to just go ahead and shoot you in the face now instead of waiting til you get home.
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