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. . .


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.


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.


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.



I posted “I’m my own f*cking problem” mere hours ago and already I’ve been deluged with responses from people basically saying YES.


Just so you know, even though I am right, it still hurts to hear it from family and friends.

I’m feeling a little raw.

Not a soul told me what a lovely person I am and that they’re thrilled I’m not going to exploit my sex life anymore.

No one told me to go easy on myself.

Not that I expected anyone to, but it would’ve been nice to hear a positive message.

I reached out to my friend Rob to tell him I how I was feeling.



And as it turned out, the universe gave me EXACTLY what I needed.

“Stop. That was Michelle 2.0. You are evolving into Michelle 3.0. You learn from it and become better. A butterfly cannot spread its wings and fly if it still believes itself to be a caterpillar.”

Oh man!

I’ll admit, I almost cried.

Rough times, my friends.

I’m having some ROUGH TIMES.



When you start hitting on friends

He’s single.

I’m single.

We’ve known each other for decades.

He’s a decent guy.

I’m a decent (if slightly naughty) gal.

So when I found out he’s single, I took a leap of faith.

You see, the guys I meet online who are good guys are few and far between.

The Swede and basically NO ONE ELSE.

So even though I’ve been friends FOREVER with this guy I thought, “Why not?”

So I told him when he’s in a good place for dating, we should go on a date.

I suspect he will not take me up on my offer.

And that’s okay.

Going from vanilla relationships to me is like switching from the kiddie roller coaster to the Sky Scream – it’s a real mind fuck and you just may puke but it’s also quite exhilarating!

So I put it out there in the universe.

And even if he isn’t the man for me, someone decent will come along.

I’m keeping my eyeballs peeled for him.


70,000 lucky people get to go to Burning Man every year.

It means different things to different people.

This year, Burning Man for me was all about community and self-care.

And flirting.

But I digress.

I say it was all about community because I spent a lot of time around camp due to the extreme heat.

I didn’t want to fry and dehydrate out in the desert sun.

So I really got to know my camp mates, especially since we had a communal area that was heavily utilized by all.

My burn was also about self-care.

About knowing what was good for me and what was bad and choosing to act in accordance with what was right for me.

I showered when I needed to shower.  I slept when I needed to sleep.  I flirted when I wanted to flirt.  And I hugged other people to excess.

So here are some of my favorite photos from Burning Man which are special to me not because they feature the amazing art of Burning Man, but because they feature some of my favorite people out there on the playa.

Still lusting after the good ones

I have roughly 500 friends on Facebook.

Yesterday, as an experiment, I counted how many of my Facebook friends were ex-lovers.

Out of 500, there were 17.

17 ex-lovers – 16 men and 1 woman.

Hey, I had an experimental phase.

No current lovers, mind you.

As I was making my way through the list of friends, I had to do a double take a few times and ask myself, “Did we sleep together?”

Sometimes the answer was “No, we just OMed.”

There are nearly 50 men on Facebook who I OMed with.

Other times, the answer was, “No, we just fooled around a bit but no sex.”

Like with my friend “Nathan” who I used to watch porn with and let him grope me.

And even still, the answer was occasionally, “No, but I REALLY wanted to.”

And there are SEVERAL men who fall into that category.

If I counted all the people who I’ve had some sort of sexual activity with, I’m sure my number would jump in leaps and bounds.

Truthfully, I was surprised there were that many ex-lovers on my Facebook page.

Historically, I’m not the best at keeping in touch with past partners.

I guess Facebook is heralding in the age of long term friendships with exes.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

It’s actually quite nice to see them doing well and having a good time.

And of course, still lusting after the good ones!

A Steady Diet of Kisses

When you’ve been single for a while, flirting comes as easily as breathing.

Breathe in.

Plant a kiss on your favorite single guy.

Breathe out.

So imagine me at unSCruz, trying to not flirt because I was there with The Swede.

All those delicious men who flirt back with me and make me feel sexy and appealing. . .

. . .they were off limits.

I’ve gotten in the habit of kissing as many people as possible.

It’s a hard habit to break and fortunately, given that The Swede has a more European view of things, I didn’t have to.

I went around kissing all my friends – male, female, trans, bi, gay, furry – you name it, I was kissing it.

Of course, the best kisser in the whole bunch was The Swede.

He would grab me and kiss me, just because.

Or say something provocative and then plant one on me.

For someone who is usually starving for affection, I got a steady diet of it during unSCruz.

So much so that I know it’s going to be hard for me to go without it.

The Swede leaves for Sweden today.

And I am going to miss him.



Friends at Burning Man

My first year at Burning Man was a solitary experience.

For the most part, I felt like I was struggling to do things with anyone but myself.

Oh sure, I got to do a few things with friends – like see the Man with Dante, spend an evening getting altered with two good friends, and touring the deep playa with Tejas, but overall, I was alone.

It’s not my favorite thing in the world. Given the fact that I live with 4 other people, I am by nature a very social creature.

My second year at Burning Man went better.

I hung with Marina, Tejas, and sometimes Marina AND Tejas, which if you know them you know is an accomplishment.

Oil and water.

It was a MUCH better year for me, activity-wise.

We made scarves, tried on clothes at the clothing exchange, rode out to the trash fence, saw INCREDIBLE art, and took saunas.

Here I am, staring at Year 3 at Burning Man and I realized one thing.

I trust my friend Tejas completely.

I trust him that if we go out on the playa together, unless I explicitly ask to be left alone, he will stay with me until we’re both ready to leave.

No need to worry about getting left behind.

Or being alone again.

And of course, this year Yvonne is going with Tejas.

Another magical soul I trust completely.

And I can’t help but think how lucky I am to have them as friends to go to the playa with.

Burning Man just keeps getting better.

I’m okay with that

For the first time in a long time, I realize I like somebody.

Just a friend I know casually though Burning Man, but nevertheless, I like him.

Specifically, he has this really nice calming effect on me.

Not that I’m high strung or anything, but it’s nice to be around somebody who makes you relax, take a deep breath, and be yourself.

Regrettably, his interest in me is likely non existent.

Par for the course with me.

I finally meet a decent single man and he isn’t the least bit interested in me as anything more than a friend.

Now, I could look at this as a failure.

As evidence that once again the universe is conspiring against me.

As proof that decent men aren’t interested in me and all I get are the rejects.

I could, but I won’t.

You see, my life is actually pretty damn nice.

And this guy, while not in the market for a romance with me, is still a nice friend whose company I enjoy.

AND I like to think of this as evidence that I CAN be attracted to nice, single guys not just the rotten ones.

So maybe it’s not a love match.

I’m okay with that.