I know.

I’m not supposed to think about Austin.

And for the most part, I don’t.

But occasionally, when I remember him in a towel in his living room, playfully teasing me, I have to stop, relish the memory, and write a blog post.

I mean, how often does a woman get thoroughly turned on by a man simply by looking at him?

How often does a woman get to savor the playful side of a half-naked man?

How often does a man as handsome as Austin come along?

And have you seen his abs, cuz these are them…

I enjoy my memories of Austin, just like I enjoy the memories of my other lovers.

They remind me that I’m a living, breathing, passionate woman.

And that occasionally, the stars really do line up for me and throw me someone wonderful.

Sometimes my treat is Orgasmic Meditation and the loving community that comes with it.

Sometimes my treat is a bonus at work.

And S O M E T I M E S, my treat is a hot, half-naked man with the face of Adonis, a great big bed to roll around on, and a bong.

Just sayin’

The BEST Speed Dating EVER

Speed dating TurnedON style was wicked fun.

As expected, we were given some pretty probing questions to ask out partners:

  1. What do you want more of in your life?
  2. What is something that makes you feel alive?
  3. Tell me a secret?
  4. Tell me a sexual desire?
  5. What is something you try to hide about yourself?
  6. What is something you want more of in your sex?

Pretty in-depth questions, no? Yeah, I thought so to.

But it was tons of fun to ask and answer these questions and give spontaneous answers.

One candidate said, “Tell me a secret” and I just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“I want to give you a blow job.”

Later, when I asked him to share a secret with me he said, “I want to see you naked.”

How’s that for secrets? Scandalously fun, don’t you think? At least by traditional speed dating standards.

The thing about these questions is that they gave you the opportunity to get as real as you wanted to be. If you took advantage of that opportunity, then you gave your partner the experience of really feeling you.

And THAT was really sexy.

Definitely a TurnON.

So how did the evening end for me?

Well, with no love connections, I’m afraid. No one I liked wanted to connect with me.

Oh well.

For me that’s not the bottom line though.

The bottom line is that I went out and really played fully. I allowed myself to be felt and I HAD A GREAT TIME DOING IT.

No regrets.

The Makeout Thread

Sexting has been replaced with the Makeout Thread.

It’s basically a group of women who share their interests, activities, and love lives with each other.

Sometimes there’s a graphic picture or two.

You know me, how I love to flash my boobs. I dare say they’ve gotten more exposure on the thread than Kim Kardashian’s Paper magazine cover.

Okay, maybe not QUITE that much.

It feels a little “Sex and the City” meets “WWF.”

It’s raw. Uncensored. Explicit. Rough.


It feeds my inner voyeur while allowing the outer exhibitionist to run free.

It turns me on when my own love life is slow and needs a little inspiration to pick me up.

Because I really need to know about the girl who’s in a Dom/Sub relationship with a man who has two other girlfriends.

Now when would I ever get to experience the excitement of THAT in my life?

And the parade of tits and pussy shots are incredible. I didn’t know you could get tattoos in some of those places, but apparently YOU CAN!

Sometimes I just sit back and think how many men would kill to see the comments and pics I see.

The bottom line is that I AM VERY LUCKY.

Lucky to be in a community of women who share their lives with me.

Lucky to be in a community of women who embrace all forms of TurnON.

Lucky to be a part of an INCREDIBLE group of women who live EXTRAORDINARY lives.

Lucky. Lucky. LUCKY!

EVERYONE should have a Makeout Thread.

Pottery Class

On Saturday, I drove my tired ass all the way from Los Gatos to Emeryville to take a pottery making class.

As a side note, I had been praying for money that morning on some sacred beads my friend Danielle gave to me. But as I drove through the homeless encampments that surrounded the pottery studio, I got the message loud and clear, “you have enough.”

So I’m not expecting a sudden windfall, to say the least.

But on to pottery.

The first thing you need to know about throwing clay is that it’s not as easy as it looks.

The second thing you need to know about throwing clay is that having fingernails makes it very hard to work with the clay. One wrong move and your project is ruined.

That said, I embarked on my adventure with enthusiasm and visions of “Ghost” in my head.

There are stages to making any object out of clay and one stage is to make a cone. My cones always looked more like a phallus and I kept stroking it to try to get it to become more of a cone, but no luck. Still, it was fun.

My favorite part of the whole process was simply getting dirty and messy, kinda like I was a kid in kindergarten all over again.

In the end, I found the clay harder to manipulate than I had anticipated but still very fun to work with.

I definitely recommend taking a class or two and learning to make your own pottery.

Up next… Part two: Glazing your own pottery.

Are Scars Sexy?

About 5 years ago, I had surgery to fix an epigastric hernia, or as I like to call it, my alien.

Yes indeed, my guts were nearly popping out of my chest.

The doctor who fixed me was skilled at repairing hernias, but not so skilled at stitching up a woman who wants to be able to be seen naked without an angry, jagged, red scar.

Well, the redness has faded. But I still have a large, crooked scar across my abdomen.

Every time someone new sees me naked, his eyes are drawn to the scar and I find myself explaining how I gave birth to an alien (aka a hernia).

I’m a little sensitive about it, to say the least.

But the other day, I noticed a scar on my friend Rick’s chin. He walked through a glass door as a child.

And my sister has a scar on her forehead from when she went into a windshield on Thanksgiving Day during a car accident which thankfully wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

I have several other friends and relatives with c-section scars – a noble way to obtain a scar, in my opinion.

My mom has a large scar from where she had open heart surgery.

I have countless other tiny scars all over my body and each tells a story.

  • The time I stepped on a glass on the floor and nearly passed out.
  • The tiny mole I had removed from under my left eye.
  • The scar on my left palm that I got while trying to bake a homemade apple pie for my neighbor from scratch.

Each scar has a story. Each scar, when noticed, brings up memories of a past time.

I got to thinking that maybe scars aren’t as ugly as I once thought. Maybe they’re beautiful. Sexy, even. Lord knows I’ve enjoyed kissing all the scars on my ex-boyfriends. Scars hold part of our history. Our past. If our bodies are the rulers by which we measure our lives, the surely the scars are the measurements that we use as a guide.

So last week, when I was rolling in the hay with Karl and he picked up a camera to snap a picture of me, instead of leaning down to cover my scar, I leaned back to show it off (well, that and a few other things).

And this is how I started to love my scar.


Bollywood Dancer

Did you know I’m going to be a Bollywood dancer?

Indeed, I am.

I signed up for a Bollywood dance class series locally.

I’ve been thinking a lot about India lately because my friend Danielle is about to embark on a 6-week spiritual pilgrimage to India.

I will be stuck at home dreaming about the spiritual awakenings she will be experiencing.

And although it’s not close to a spiritual awakening, I am excited to be bringing a little of India into my life – specifically though dance.

Now I am no fantastic dancer.

My body wants to move but my brain just gets stuck in rigidity.

That is why I usually opt to dance while totally and completely and totally inebriated.

Three sheets to the wind. Tossed. Pissed. Blitzed.

I usually go dancing with my friend Michelle and she’s a great dancer.

She’s so great in fact that every black man in the room asks her to dance.

I have to ask men to dance with me, but at least they say yes.

Okay…. So Bollywood dancing won’t translate very well in freestyle America, but I really don’t care. I’ll just put on “Jai Ho” and do my own routine.

I imagine I’ll be going to dance class with a lot of Indian women living in the Bay Area. I might even be the only white girl in the class.

But it’ll be fun, so wish me luck!

Speed Dating TurnedON Style

I’m a little leery of speed dating.

And you’ll know why if you read my post on the speed dating fiasco (aka What Not to do When Speed Dating) I had a few months ago which I affectionately call “The Parade of Trolls.”

But more so than having no physical chemistry with each candidate, I also had no connecting dialogue with any of the men.

I’m talking about more than witty conversation, which is nice. I’m talking about sharing yourselves such that you can see and be seen by the other person. Establish a connection.

After the “Parade of Trolls” I swore of speed dating for good. And I was determined to make good on that promise until Eric came along and decided to throw TurnedON Speed Dating.

And the idea of a speed dating orchestrated by him just intrigues me.

Will there be Hot Seats? What do you want/you can have it games? Uncomfortable questions to answer?

You might be horrified at the idea of answering uncomfortable questions, but one thing is for sure – when the filters come off, you really see a person for who they are.

Warts and all.

And I find that sort of vulnerability very sexy.

Maybe this won’t work out. Maybe I’ll just be hanging out with all my OneTaste friends while we delightfully ask and answer awkward questions:

  • What turns you on?
  • What do you love about yourself?
  • What do you dislike about yourself?
  • What do you do to flirt with someone?
  • What do you do when you’re attracted to someone?
  • What do you try to hide from the world?
  • What do you wish more people noticed about you?

And so on…

Truthfully, I’m dying to see how honest I can be when faced with someone I’m attracted to. And don’t think it wouldn’t be special for me to meet someone I’m attracted to. When was the last time that happened?

So wish me luck as I brave the scary speed dating scene, this time with a little more optimism about having a positive experience.

Or else I’m done. I’m really done.