Glue for Idiots

So.

I have this friend from Serbia.

Not Russia. Serbia.

There’s a difference, I learned.

She and I used to go out to clubs in San Francisco to drink and dance the night away.

One such night we went to a club in the City and when we walked in it was a sea of black – everyone wearing black wool coats in the San Francisco cold and fog.

I was wearing a red wool jacket.

I stood out like a sore thumb.

The red jacket had an interesting effect on the people there.

They started to approach me and compliment my jacket.

A few of the men even attempted to start conversations with me.

My friend, who was very selective in her choice of men, disagreed with the men I spoke to.

BASICALLY I WILL SPEAK TO ANYONE WHO SPEAKS TO ME.

It’s just something I’ve learned:

Never be rude.

As the night progressed, my friend became increasingly concerned over the quality of men I drew in – to put it politely, they were not dressed well enough for her tastes.

And that’s when it happened.

She nicknamed me “Glue for Idiots.”

Now I’m not saying that this isn’t true on some levels.

I think I have a very approachable demeanor that encourages men to take their shot.

All I’m saying is that I’m not going to ignore a man because he’s wearing jeans or his watch isn’t expensive enough.

Truthfully there’s nothing much sexier than a man in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt that’s a bit on the tight side who smells like freshly cut grass and deodorant stretched to it’s limit.

If that makes me glue for idiots, so be it.

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Busted pussy

If you read yesterday’s post, then you know that unSCruz was HOT during the day and COLD AS FUCK at night.

I literally brought one warm weather dress for the entire event.

I pretty much lived in a bright yellow sundress during the day.

At night I would envelop myself in a nice warm onesie.

Thank God for those onesies.

It would have been sheer torture without them.

The first night I was there I climbed into a FRIGID bed and literally curled up in the tiniest ball I could muster, pulled the bedspread over me, and prayed that the bed would heat up fast.

The second night I was there I shared my bed with a friend and I appreciated the warmth of another body, but it was still pretty chilly.

It reminded me of the time I took The Swede to unSCruz two years ago and I brought nothing but a black lace romper to wear to bed and it was FUCKING FREEZING at night so I wore my lingerie with a full-length faux fur jacket over it.

And socks.

I’m nothing if not sexy.

The remaining nights were not as cold as the first two, but they certainly weren’t all that comfortable either.

Especially when you’re sleeping alone.

But sleeping alone was fine by me seeing as how (sorry I’ve been holding out on you) I have a cervical biopsy this week and I’m literally NOT ALLOWED to have sex, according to my doctor.

So there you have it.

UnSCruz was cold at night and I may have cancer.

Fucking busted pussy!

Burning Man 2015: Human Carcass Wash

Yes, I admit it.

I got naked on the streets of Black Rock City and I went through the Human Carcass Wash.

And I did it rather gleefully.human carcass wash

The Human Carcass Wash is basically a series of 4 basins that you step in sequentially.

Soap. Scrub. Rinse. Squeegee.

human carcass washEach basin is surrounded by 4 naked people, also there to participate in the Human Carcass Wash. The people at the Soap and Rinse basins hold spray bottles, which they use to spray your body down and get you clean. The people at the scrub and squeegee basins use their hands on your body.

Personally, I love the HCW. Everyone is naked and happy and there are always 4 people focusing on you at any given time.

It’s nice to be the center of attention and get cleaned at the same time.

And the water is delightfully chilly and causes you to shiver from your head to your playa encrusted toes.

I went through the Human Carcass Wash with a friend.

He went through the line ahead of me and it was fun to watch him get washed by all these burners as I got washed myself.

The only problem I encountered was at the end when I realized I didn’t have a towel to dry off with and I had to DRIP DRY BEFORE PUTTING ON MY CLOTHES.

It was a little bit nipply out, if you ask me.

But overall, the Human Carcass Wash was tons of fun (no pictures allowed or else I have some to post).

I’d do it again.

Rude Boys

A ton of stuff is going on, but none of it is blogworthy.

I mean, there was the guy who sent me a video clip of him in slow motion slapping some chick’s ass.

Yeah, so there’s that.

Then there’s the guy I had to block on Facebook for being downright mean to me.

He’s the second person I’ve blocked.

Ever.

The first guy I blocked what a friend of a friend who I’d never actually met but since we had a friend in common I approved the add.

He promptly sent me a message asking me when the last time I had sex.

BLOCK!

I mean seriously, what is it about me that INVITES that kind of conversation?

Nothing.

That’s just a rude boy!

The second guy I blocked was a mutual friend of the common friend.

I guess amnesia set in because I thought, what the hell, I’ll try again.

Instantly, I was peppered with questions about my feet.

When I told him that wasn’t my thing and did nothing for me, he sent me a nasty message.

Obviously my feet must look OLD if I’m not willing to share a picture of them over the internet (to a virtual stranger with a foot fetish, I might add).

BLOCK!

And now I know.

Do not approve anyone as a friend who you haven’t met in person, regardless of how many mutual friends you might have.

I say this a little tongue in cheek, because as you know Rude Boys make blogging gold.

I honestly couldn’t dream up some of the things that have been suggested to me.

But seriously, once, just once, I’d like to write a blog post about a man who was thougful and kind to me instead of the opposite.

One can only hope. . .

Me and the Universe

Not many of you know this but I started this blog when I was in Law School in 2005.

I fully intended to walk the straight and narrow and document how I WAS FINALLY GETTING THINGS RIGHT IN MY LIFE.

Of course, it turned into something else.

It just goes to show, you can’t pretend to be something you’re not and keep up the pretense for any length of time.

Eventually the real you shines through.

I thought I could make myself into someone classy, poised, and perfect. Instead I discovered I’m earthy, funny, and full of flaws.

I think the time has come for this blog to evolve AGAIN.

Into something with a little more soul and a little less frivolity.

I’ve been commiserating with a friend about our mutual single statuses.

We both have discovered recently that we have certain “problems.”

He is addicted to being in relationships.

I am addicted to the rush of a new sexual relationship.

It makes for very interesting conversations between us – the romantic and the cynic.

One of us fantasizes about snuggling and smelling his lover’s hair.

The other one of us fantasizes about getting down and dirty.

It’s a very interesting conundrum.

He could use a little dose of my cynicism and I could use a little dose of his romanticism.

If you merged us into one human being, we’d make the perfect partner.

The irony is, this friend hasn’t been a close part of my life for at least a decade.

But now we find ourselves thrown together by chance and circumstance.

And I think perhaps his perspective is the one I need the most right now.

Which reminds me that the universe is unfolding EXACTLY as it should.

And I am EXACTLY where I need to be.

With EXACTLY who I need to be with.

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Jealous much?

I am a SCORPIO.

Born smack dab in the middle of Scorpio territory on November 2nd.

As such, I happen to have some of the quintessential Scorpio traits:

Active imagination.

Strong sex drive.

Very loyal.

Wicked sting when wronged.

And, of course, tendencies toward jealousy.

I’m not proud of my jealous nature.

However, I’ve discovered it’s less a measure of how possessive I am than it is a measure of how secure I am.

When I’m comfortable in a relationship there’s very little jealousy.

When I’m off balance in a relationship, there’s a lot of jealousy.

So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered a friend hitting on not one, but two of my former lovers at Burning Man.

What?

After I expressly told her to lay off.

“Are you okay with this?” she mouthed to me while snuggling up to one of my lovers.

“Does it matter?” I asked. “It’s not like you’ll listen.”

And so I got jealous.

Go figure.

But seeing as how I believe in maintaining the “No Drama” rule at Burning Man, I opted to do nothing but sit and wait.

And in the end, it was all for naught.

Nothing came of it.

Jealousy is such a USELESS emotion.

Burning Man 2015 Flashback: Human Carcass Wash

Yes, I admit it.

I got naked on the streets of Black Rock City and I went through the Human Carcass Wash.

And I did it rather gleefully.human carcass wash

The Human Carcass Wash is basically a series of 4 basins that you step in sequentially.

Soap. Scrub. Rinse. Squeegee.

human carcass washEach basin is surrounded by 4 naked people, also there to participate in the Human Carcass Wash. The people at the Soap and Rinse basins hold spray bottles, which they use to spray your body down and get you clean. The people at the scrub and squeegee basins use their hands on your body.

Personally, I love the HCW. Everyone is naked and happy and there are always 4 people focusing on you at any given time.

It’s nice to be the center of attention and get cleaned at the same time.

And the water is delightfully chilly and causes you to shiver from your head to your playa encrusted toes.

I went through the Human Carcass Wash with a friend.

He went through the line ahead of me and it was fun to watch him get washed by all these burners as I got washed myself.

The only problem I encountered was at the end when I realized I didn’t have a towel to dry off with and I had to DRIP DRY BEFORE PUTTING ON MY CLOTHES.

It was a little bit nipply out, if you ask me.

But overall, the Human Carcass Wash was tons of fun (no pictures allowed or else I have some to post).

I’d do it again.

Glue for Idiots

So.

I have this friend from Serbia.

Not Russia. Serbia.

There’s a difference, I learned.

She and I used to go out to clubs in San Francisco to drink and dance the night away.

One such night we went to a club in the City and when we walked in it was a sea of black – everyone wearing black wool coats in the San Francisco cold and fog.

I was wearing a red wool jacket.

I stood out like a sore thumb.

The red jacket had an interesting effect on the people there.

They started to approach me and compliment my jacket.

A few of the men even attempted to start conversations with me.

My friend, who was very selective in her choice of men, disagreed with the men I spoke to.

BASICALLY I WILL SPEAK TO ANYONE WHO SPEAKS TO ME.

It’s just something I’ve learned:

Never be rude.

As the night progressed, my friend became increasingly concerned over the quality of men I drew in – to put it politely, they were not dressed well enough for her tastes.

And that’s when it happened.

She nicknamed me “Glue for Idiots.”

Now I’m not saying that this isn’t true on some levels.

I think I have a very approachable demeanor that encourages men to take their shot.

All I’m saying is that I’m not going to ignore a man because he’s wearing jeans or his watch isn’t expensive enough.

Truthfully there’s nothing much sexier than a man in comfortable jeans and a t-shirt that’s a bit on the tight side who smells like freshly cut grass and deodorant stretched to it’s limit.

If that makes me glue for idiots, so be it.

Save

Save

Facebook and my frustration

MMI have a trigger on Facebook. It’s a picture of a friend.

Every time I see that picture I feel bad.

I’m conditioned to respond in a negative way to that picture.

The other day, said friend was posting all over Facebook. Not just the usual post here and there but a full on onslaught of posts.

I was beside myself with discomfort.

Not because of the content, just because of THAT DAMN PHOTO.

My BFF thinks I should just unfriend this person and remove the stimulus that makes me feel bad.

I can’t seem to bring myself to do that.

I hate burning bridges just in case down the road I feel differently.

And down the road I ALWAYS feel differently

So I guess I’ll just have to suck it up. Grin and bear it. Deal.

It’s not like I can ask my friend to stand still while I throw donuts at him/her.

Right?

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And speaking of burning bridges, guess who added me as a friend on Google+?

Edward. Yes, that Edward. Of the $1000 date fame. And the only man to tell me my life had “too much drama.”

Boo. I’ve felt so bad about that comment ever since he said it, and now he’s my friend again? Yay!

Maybe his attitude toward me has softened.

I sure hope so.

I could use a deep, cleansing breath.

Landside of good karma

I have two secrets I keep from the general population. Only my friends and family know them.

Every now and then I make a new friend who captures my interest and my trust and I take a leap of faith and share my secrets with him/her.

Yesterday I told Mystery Man my two secrets.

He said, “You always find a way to draw me closer to you.”

And, “I just want to come over and hug you and hold you tight.”

“Now you know me,” I replied.

And you just have to love someone who says, “There is no need to get me to like you more. You have already succeeded with that.”

So sometimes the universe may conspire against me. But other times it send me a kind, generous, warm hearted friend to share a bit of my soul with.

For that I am unendingly grateful.