Trick or Treat: A Glimpse into Narnia

Every Monday night, a group of enterprising burners band together to trick to treat the nearby camps and Center Camp.

It’s a 2+ hour event where we wander all over asking for treats.

If we visit a camp that doesn’t have treats, we play a trick.

I dressed up as the St. Pauli Girl.

We also had a devil/angel, a Power Ranger, a zebra, two bees, a witch, a Minecraft robot and much much more.

We  managed to procure:  stickers, caramel corn, lollipops, quesadillas (made by flame thrower – see pic, below), etc.

We happened upon a camp and yelled, “TRICK OR TREAT!”

They opened up the door of a closet and it led to a chamber where we could walk into a cuddle puddle / chill space.

It was like opening a door to Narnia.

All that walking did me in and I was in bed at midnight, resting peacefully.

I know, I know.

Next time I will stay out longer.

I’m a blogger

I’m a blogger.

My life appears on the internet for other people to read and absorb.

I write because I have a bad memory and a diary is the best way for me to keep track of what happens in my life.

I put it on the internet because I’m trying to connect with other people, even if it’s just through a story.

I think there’s wisdom that can be gleaned between the lines of my life, if not by me then by someone else.

Everybody I write about, I fall in love with.

They represent a character in my life and whether temporary or permanent, they always play a part in my development.

Some people I clearly adore: my children, my family, The Swede, Tejas, Barbara, Michelle, Marina, and so many more.

Other people pop in and out, like Coke Can Dan, Jack and Jill, and The Photographer.

Rest assured they’ve all captured a place in my heart.

There is little I enjoy more than writing about a friend, new or old, who has captured my attention.

I never do them justice.

Personalities are far too rich and nuanced for me to capture in my simple writing.

But I try.

And honestly, nothing is better than reading old posts and being reminded of old friends I haven’t seen in a while so I pick up the phone and call.

I hope they know how much I love them.

Coke jokes

I might have let it slip among my friends at the Bare Burn that I nicknamed my friend “Coke Can Dan.”

I might have said, “I call him Coke Can Dan” but his real name is John so you better not call him Dan.

And they were good about it.

They never called him Dan.

But there we were at the Bare Burn, and literally all my friends were making Coke jokes.

Honestly, it didn’t bother Coke Can Dan.

He’s used to be heralded at parties and the like by women, much like myself, who can’t seem to keep their mouth shut about getting STUFFED!

Sometimes I wonder what it must be like, to have an appendage so big it needs its own zip code.

When lubrication isn’t a suggestion but a NECESSITY.

I joked with Coke Can Dan and told him that my lady parts could comfortably accommodate something half the size of his parts.

And in a way, that’s true.

When it comes to sparkling beverages, I’m more of a Red Bull kind of gal than a Coke Can kind of gal.

Of course, I’m being converted.

You all may get a giggle out of this post and wonder, silently, if I’m walking all right or if I have to step gingerly.

The answer is I can walk just fine, but I’d probably benefit from sitting on an ice pack.

Making Peace

I friended an ex-boyfriend on Facebook recently.

It’s been at least 6 years since we really spoke or saw each other.

I must say, more so that any other person in my life (besides my children) he has indelibly altered the course of my life.

Everything that I do now, from Burning Man to boudoir photos, I do because he taught me to explore life outside my comfort zone.

Test your edges, he used to say.

And then he pushed me to test them.

I think it was easy for me to make him the bad guy when things fell apart, specifically because he was so insistent that I explore new activities and interests.

In case you didn’t already know, change is hard.

It’s easy to sit in your comfort zone, with all the things you know and are familiar with.

It’s much harder to get out and try new things – things you might not understand too well or be instantly good at.

So. . .

I made peace with it.

And him.

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.

The Makeout Thread feels a little like “Sex and the City” meets “WWF.”

It’s raw. Uncensored. Explicit. Rough.

AND I LOVE IT!

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 desire.

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

Lucky. Lucky. LUCKY!

EVERYONE should have a Makeout Thread.

unSCruz 2018: Appreciations

All right.

The overwhelming story that emerges from unSCruz 2018 is one of community.

Despite the fact that we took up more space than we were alotted, we managed to squeeze everyone but the largest camper into our little plot of unSCruz real estate.

It was a beautiful thing to be living in community with so many wonderful, lovely people.

And of course when it was time to gift spankings and cookies to the crowds, everyone stepped up and played their part and we ran like a smooth well-oiled spanking and cookie baking machine.

I must give a shot out to all my campmates who really killed it food-wise for our Saturday potluck.

And then stuck around on Sunday to help tear down the camp, load my truck, and just generally being awesome people I loved spending my weekend with.

We had two women camping with us who were newbies to regional burns and they really rocked their outfits and spent time socializing with their camp mates.

I heart them for embracing the Burning Man culture, despite not having experienced a Burn.

And then there were the fabulous trio of men who complimented me and flirted with me ALL WEEKEND LONG.

They also were fabulous chefs and magnificent company the entire time.

And of course, who can forget the ladies, especially Marina who walked around in a tutu and bra and looked smashing!

Then there’s Yvette who gave out the MOST AMAZING HUGS and really made all of us feel loved and cared for.

GQ, who I swear is my brother from another mother, was a most excellent volunteer and really took on the role of helping out everyone in camp and in the larger community.

“MotherP” and Tejas deserve special kudos for looking after me (more on that later), and of course who can forget Dan and his girlfriend who really added color to the event and our camp.

I also have to thank Ned for bringing his hot tub and then soaking with me in it.

But no weekend recap would be complete without mentioning our fearless leader (and his lovely wife) who made the entire event possible by producing it with the incomparable Sass.

Without Twisty and Sass, there would be empty fairgrounds and no festival.

So much more to say, but for now, just thank yous all around and my unending appreciation for the extraordinary individuals whom they are!

Hugs and kisses for everyone!

Back to the bunny burn. . .

Back to the bunny burn. . .

I had a lot of expectations going to the Pagan Bunny Burn and by and large, most of my expectations were met.

A little rain, not too much.

Quite a bit of drinking but no hangovers.

Lots and lots of socializing.

Making new friends and seeing old friends.

And being very, VERY COLD.

If I had the bunny burn to do all over again, I’d skip the tent camping and go straight to RV camping.

It’s so much warmer and easier to set up and take down.

Since it was cold, I wound up wearing a onesie and jacket with my wolf hood hat virtually the entire time.

Even in bed.

Here are some of my pictures for the weekend.

Hope you like them!

Censorship

Oh, don’t worry.

I haven’t been censored in a week.

The last time I was censored, Tejas asked me to edit my post about losing my pants at SoulFire so that he didn’t sounds quite so. . . so. . .

Inebriated.

But hello, I did EMPHASIZE that the cocktail I gave him at SoulFire was the same as slipping him a Mickey.

I try to point this out at every opportunity I get.

I “dosed” my friend.

I do have something to say about censorship, however.

People I know.

Liberal-minded, forward-thinking, educated individuals have censored me.

Once, a woman came up to me at the burn and said, “I prefer if you don’t blog about me.”

To which I wanted to respond, “Then don’t do anything INTERESTING!” only to realize that that was redundant.

And now, here I am, blogging about her.

I will say this, however.

There are people, lifestyles, events, and activities that I participate in or have friends who participate in which sort of defy explanation and get lost in translation.

If you ask me if my work knows that I go to Burning Man, the answer is “No.”

And that’s just an annual artistic community experiment in the desert.

What if there were other activities, outside the mainstream?

It has dawned on me, very slowly, that in spite of this blog, I do need to protect the identities and interests of some of my friends who trust me and continue to invite me to participate in their events.

So not everything goes in the blog.

I censor myself.

SoulFire (aka the night I lost my pants)

I can’t BELIEVE I haven’t told this story yet.

As you know, SoulFire is near and dear to my heart.

And it’s because of the people and cherished memories.

So many loving hugs, smiling faces, and open hearts!

Each time I’ve gone to SoulFire, it’s with my BFF Tejas.

The first time we ever went, we took his Motorbeast (the RV) and did a “mock up” of Burning Man.

To see if we could live with each other.

Within minutes of arriving and setting up, I was making Tejas a cocktail.

A margarita.

He handed me his cup, which was a LARGE MCDONALD’S cup that used to hold soda in it.

I made him a QUADRUPLE!

Actually, what I should say is that I MADE HIM A QUADRUPLE WITHOUT TELLING HIM!

[I call it a QUADRUPLE, but really I have no idea how big it was.  I just kept pouring tequila.]

I thought it would last the next several hours.

Well, he drank it down, not realizing how much tequila I put in it. . .

. . .and proceeded to forget the rest of the evening.

No memory of having dinner. No memory of getting nicknamed by a sexy woman.

Nothing.

I, on the other hand, proceeded to walk around naked (it was a naturalist resort, btw) then semi naked in a tank top and booty shorts.

Let’s just say when I woke up in the morning, I couldn’t find my jeans!

Late into the evening however, someone came to fetch me to bring Tejas home to his RV.

He was sitting on a bench, happy as a lark, ready to go to bed.

And do you know, I managed to get him to the RV, undressed, and even got his C-PAP machine on him before I went to bed.

I am one hell of a good friend (or good at making up for being a BAD friend and getting my BFF wasted).

Tejas and I always have a good laugh about it now.

The night I got him drunk, lost my pants, and put him to bed!

Shits and giggles

After the snuggle/hair pulling sesh a week ago, I came up with the AWESOME idea of finding another man to do this to me:

Snuggle (clothes on) and pull my hair.

No sex.

So I posted a rather cryptic message on FB, figuring I should farm my friends for this kind of activity instead of new (dating) prospects.

And what I got was a ground swelling of men willing to do exactly that.

Snuggle and pull my hair.

One guy asked if I wanted to be pulled around the room BY MY HAIR.

NO!

Another guy asked me out on a date.

And yet another (non single yet curious) guy tried to figure out how to make this happen for me.

One particularly randy gentleman asked if he could massage my breasts too.

No, it’s just snuggling and hair pulling.

Clothes never come off.

And then it occurred to me that some of these men might be safe (aka respectful of my vow of celibacy) to do this with and others are TOTALLY NOT SAFE.

In fact, this BRILLIANT idea I had turns out to be NO SO BRILLIANT.

But I put it out there in the universe and the universe responded with abundance.

Just for shits and giggles I should ask for back scratches too.

Cuz those are THE BOMB.