Show my world to you

I’m craving Ethiopian food today.

Not just because there’s an awesome Ethiopian restaurant by me.

Also because I want to support black-owned businesses.

I want to put my money where it can do good and promote diversity.

I’ve donated to the ACLU.

And BLM.

I’m sure there’s many other worthy non-profits I could donate to.

But going to eat Ethiopian takes care of two birds with one stone:  I get tasty food AND I support a business owned by an African-American family.

I ate Ethiopian not long ago with my friend Austin who has since passed away.

I’ll never forget it took us 45 minutes to order our food because we were so busy talking.

And I was so busy staring into his eyes.

God, was he gorgeous.

Such a tragedy his life ended by suicide.

I’ll never go to that restaurant ever again without thinking of him and remembering how ALIVE I felt when I was with him.

Or listen to the Dave Matthew’s Band play “Crash Into Me” without getting teary-eyed.

I’ll show my world to you. . .

Hands Off

I dunno.

Call me old fashioned but the minute my girlfriend pairs off with a guy and does some mattress dancing, he’s HANDS OFF to me in perpetuity.

Actually, the minute she tells me she’s INTERESTED IN HIM is when I start looking in other directions.

But, just to reiterate, once a guy has slept with a friend of mine, he’s OFF LIMITS to me FOREVER.

There has been one exception to this rule: Austin.

Austin dated my sister in high school and had a fling with her.

Years later, Austin and I met and wanted to go out so I ASKED MY SISTER’S PERMISSION to go out with him.

She laughed at me.

“It was fucking high school,” she told me. “Go ahead.”

So I jumped head first into that tall cool drink of water.

Nevertheless, I am STUNNED when friends of mine go after my lovers, ex or current.

It just seems like a very gauche thing to do.


I know they’re all BIG BOYS and can make up their own damn minds.

And I’ll leave them to it.

But it certainly says something about who some of my friends are that I can’t trust them not to hit on my lovers, past and present.

Fortunately, most of my friends are married.

The few single friends I have aren’t into lumberjacks.

One likes chocolate. One likes mocha. And the other likes nerds.

So I’m golden.

Gone too soon

January 31st was my friend Austin’s birthday.

He would have been 44 years young.

He was a handsome man with an extraordinary spirit and the world was diminished when we lost him.

Part of me never understood why he was friends with me.

He was sexy, smart, and funny.

I was mixed up and struggling.

Not exactly the perfect match.

We went to high school together but he was friends with my sister.

It wasn’t until I kicked out posts on my blog unblunder that we connected.

My blog was his guilty pleasure.

He took me to have Ethiopian food at Zeni and I wore a long, white dress which I proceeded to drop Ethiopian food all over.

He was amused.

But I loved that we were so busy talking it took us 30 minutes to order our food.

And I loved that he let me eat with my fingers.

We also drove up Mt. Hamilton to a kitchy little restaurant and had BBQ.

I dressed more appropriately for that.

When I was on my Adventure kick, he joined me in the melee that was The Great Bull Run because I asked him to. He even recorded me running with the bulls from a safe position sitting on top of a 6 foot fence.

Like I said, he was smart.

I’m not sure I can share my favorite memory of Austin because it’s X-rated but it involved a little herb, some sheets, and a lot of friction.

Ironically, what Austin and I did have in common was grief. I’d lost a son to cancer and my BFF to murder.  He lost a beloved girlfried to suicide.

We both knew what it was like to walk through life carrying burdens seemingly too heavy to carry.

I once told him, “When Douglas (my son) died of cancer, if I could’ve willed my heart to stop beating, I would have. I didn’t want to live.”

He replied, “They’re two different things – wanting to die and not wanting to live.”

And, as it turns out, they are.

Which is why I am here writing this post to him and he is resting peacefully.



P.S. I was able to find the video clips Austin sent me before he died. Still can’t watch them, but it’s nice to know they’re there when I’m ready.


One sensual day, reposted

I spent one glorious afternoon and evening with Austin last week.

I want to blog about it so that I can record every last detail.  And I don’t want to blog it so that it will only live on privately in the memories of Austin and myself. So I will blog a little, but let the details remain in my and Austin’s memories.

We had drinks at a local watering hole and shared some fish tacos.  It was a hot day and I was feeling dehydrated and a little headachy.  I needed to hydrate and relax.  So we retired to Austin’s place.

It was cool and relaxing at Austin’s place.  I found myself lounging on his couch, chatting with him.  He asked it I thought he was leading me on.  I told him I just like to think of us as friends.  That I let go of my expectations with him.

He liked that answer and reminded me that we’re “friends” who have a pretty significant physical attraction.

Then he got up to shower.  When he came out in nothing but a towel, I almost died right there.

He looked so good.  So delicious.  I’m surprised I didn’t get off the couch, crawl across the floor, and beg him to give me the towel.

But I didn’t have to beg.  Because Austin was in a teasing mood.

What he did to me, I can tell you, nearly broke me.  But I’m invested in Austin’s vow of celibacy too.  So I restrained myself.

We migrated to Austin’s bedroom.  My dress first came halfway off, then all the way off as Austin gave me the most stimulating massage I’ve ever had.

It was hard to breathe and the feeling was amazing.

Austin kept asking me to do things and my head said, “You should ALWAYS say yes to Austin.”

So I did.  I said yes to everything he asked.

Yes, do that.  Yes, please.  Yes. Yes. Yes.

And what a ride he took me on.  I was amazed.  Stunned.  Enthralled.

The beauty of it was that it all felt very seamless.  Like drifting from one activity to another in a light haze of desire and sensuality.

I had an outstanding time with Austin.  Literally not a single thing I would change about the day except to say to Austin that he made my day, my week, and quite possibly my month and I am forever grateful for his company and friendship.

But where do I put my hands?, reposted

I’m suffering a little in the awkwardness department with Austin.

You see, I’m invested in his vow of celibacy.  So I want to respect his choices and boundaries, even when I’m not sure where the boundaries are.

The best way I can think of showing respect is to not be provocative in any way.

Which isn’t easy when you’re dying to get to third base, hang out there for a while, then make it all the way to home. Score!

So I squash my desire to kiss him.  My kisses are very provocative.  Definitely a no-no.  Although sometimes I can’t control myself.

And I sit on my hands instead of letting them wander to places they really want to go.

In a way, I feel like an awkward fraud, suppressing my deepest, strongest desires for Austin.

So I have a question of my blogging audience…

When Austin steps out of the shower, all dewy and clean, with a towel slung so low around his hips I can see that area where abdomen stops being abdomen and starts being something else…

Where the fuck am I supposed to put my hands?????

Make out

I eat, sleep, and breathe Burning Man, in case you haven’t noticed.

I’m a little obsessed.

Even in my dreams I dream of the playa and all the fun I’m going to have there.

Except for last night.

Last night I dreamed of my friend Austin who too early departed this earth.

In my dream, we started out sitting next to each other but slowly, through miniscule little movements on my part, I maneuvered us into a position where I was laying on my back and he was laying on top of me.

And we were making out.

Not like half-assed making out, but full-on, turned on in the head, fucking-like-teenagers making out.

Unfortunately, I woke up before I could get to the good part.

Isn’t that always the case?

But I do remember the smell of his skin, like faded cologne mixed with the faint smell of smoke.

I remember the softness of the skin on his neck as I kissed and nibbled it.

And I remember the weight of his body on mine, pressing me into the bed.

I’m not sure I believe in the afterlife. After all, I’m confused and identify as a former Catholic Buddhist turned agnostic.

But I’d like to think that Austin visited me last night and gave me one last gift.

Something I’d wanted from him for a long time.




A few days ago, a friend of mine ended his life and his suffering by committing suicide.

He was a gentle man, with unrelenting wit and sarcasm and a clever mind.  He loved quoting Heinlein and was always up for new adventures, like when he took me to the Great Bull Run.

We talked about suicide.  Me, because I had slipped into a deep depression after I lost a son to cancer.  Him, because he lost a girlfriend to suicide.  He told me that if he were a book, he’d be “Time Enough for Love” by Heinlein, which is the story of the oldest living man who has decided he wants to commit suicide and is entertaining his audience with stories from his past.

When we discussed me being suicidal, I told him it was very passive.  That I just wanted my heart to stop beating.  I told him I didn’t want to live.  And Mark, having perhaps explored this area better than I, remarked that there was a difference between wanting to die and not wanting to live.

I blogged about Mark frequently, under a pseudonym.  He was my muse.  I had a thing for him, which I let go of but still felt a little tickle of something when I thought of him.  He and I swapped video messages and I have a collection of him talking to me that I can’t bear to look at right now, but that I will someday cherish.

When I think of how he suffered, I can only imagine the depth of his pain which led him to take his own life.

He will be missed by many and until the end of our days.

Life is precious.


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’

Austin Lights Up The Blogosphere

photo 2Roughly 31% of all my readership is related to posts about Austin.

He is a very popular topic, no doubt.

I don’t post more about him because he’s not all that comfortable with the level of transparency I have on my blog (although he compliments me for it).

In any case, to feed your sweet and saucy sides, here are the kindest and the sexiest things I can say about Austin.

The kindest:

  1. Austin is brilliant. I’ve seen his book collection and he’s very well read. All this adds up to a keen intellect.
  2. Austin is superbly handsome. I’m not even joking. He’s eye candy.
  3. Austin is kind to animals. I know this may seem trivial, but I love a man who is sensitive to animals.
  4. Austin is wicked funny. He is so funny sometimes there are layers on layers in his humor. You have to pay attention to get his jokes.
  5. Austin is generous – with his time and with his talent. He gives freely to others.

The sexiest:

  1. Austin looks downright incredible naked. Like steal your breath away.
  2. If size matters, Austin has nothing to worry about.
  3. When Austin kisses you, you can feel it in your whole body.
  4. In the bedroom, Austin is a master conductor, orchestrating outstanding sexy activities.
  5. He literally knocks the breath out of me, with his creativity in the bedroom. Christian Grey, eat your heart out.

As you can see, Austin is quite the package. Quite possibly, not as into me as I am into him, but a girl can live with these disappointments.  I’ll save that story for another post.

Loving the torture

I love a good tease.

There’s nothing like it to get your heart pumping, your juices flowing, and your imagination racing.

This is one of the reasons why I like Austin.

Because he is a first class, bonafide tease.

And he is oh so good at it.

He must know I love the torture.

The other day he was describing a sexual position to me, and I nearly melted from the sexiness of it.

Austin is quickly becoming one of my favorite friends.

I bought him the Malcolm Gladwell trilogy (The Tipping Point, Blink, and Outliers). And I bought two tickets to the Dave Mathews Band (which he can’t attend). So needless to say, it must be pretty obvious that I like him.

What is less obvious is whether he likes me.

But I don’t mind having a flirtatious friend.

You know how I believe in letting the universe unfold….

So he’ll continue to tease me, and I’ll continue to be tortured by him.

It’s a win-win situation, if you ask me.