Semi Prude

Several years ago I attended a retreat at some nearby hot springs.

I signed up for the retreat AS I WAS DRIVING THERE, so I never got a chance to read the emailed instructions they sent me detailing what the weekend was about.

We make it through ALL OF FRIDAY NIGHT, sleep in community, and then get up for Saturday’s activities.

Somewhere around noon, the instructors mention that it’s “Clothing Optional” time and everyone starts to strip.

They ask, “Did anyone NOT know this retreat was clothing optional?”

I raise my hand.

I mean, I knew that the hot tubs were clothing optional, but the WHOLE RETREAT?!

This I did not know.

So I swallowed VERY HARD, TOOK A DEEP BREATH, and I STRIPPED.

Yes, I did.

When in Rome, you know.

And as it turned out, it wasn’t that bad.

We, as Americans, have far too prudish an attitude about nudity than other countries.

I made it through my naked weekend just fine.

But it’s been years since I did a naked retreat and I must admit, the idea of doing it again kinda scares me.

Why am I bringing this up?

Because I’m going to a party which is clothing optional and I will of course be invited to socialize in the nude.

In some way, being naked is wonderful because it removes all the barriers we put up to keep people at a distance from us.

There’s lots of connection when you see the vulnerable side of people.

But in other ways, being naked is awful because it removes all the barriers we put up to keep people at a distance.

And that provides safety.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but if I had to guess, I say I’ll go in the hot tub naked but I will socialize with my clothes on.

This American is only SEMI-PRUDISH!

Arctic plunge

OK.

So we’ve established I was hot during my ENTIRE trip to Sweden.

Yes, indeed.

With a suitcase full of warm sweaters and tights, what was I to do?

Well, I went with The Swede to visit his friends in Jättendal for New Year’s Eve.

Snow everywhere!

And. . . The Swede’s friends have a hot tub.

First I was served the most SCRUMPTIOUS meal – mashed potatoes, steak, and pickled asparagus wrapped in bacon.

Then I jumped into the hot tub (with a bathing suit on, natch).

Before too long, even the snow banks and cool air couldn’t keep me at a comfortable temperature.

So I jumped out and sat in the snow in my bathing suit.

And I will have you know, neither one of the Swedish born-and-bred men who were in the hot tub with me got out to jump in the snow.

Just saying. . .

This California girl likes her ARCTIC PLUNGES!

What happens in the hot tub stays in the hot tub

I was at a party when I noticed that some friends were hopping into the hot tub in various states of undress.

Some wore bathing suits.

Others wore half a bathing suit.

And still others wore their birthday suit.

Well, there is nothing I like better than socializing au naturel, so I stripped and climbed (almost fell) inside.

I’m so dignified (cough).

I know you’d like to think that there was action.

And perhaps there was.

A little.

But it was all PG-13 rated.

I swear!

No one got past first base!

Sadly, I had to get out of the hot tub prematurely because my dear friend Tejas needed encouragement to consume water (not booze).

[How he managed to find CINNAMON SCHNAPPS when I told him to drink water for a while I WILL NEVER KNOW.]

That man is nothing if not resourceful.

So I have saved the memory of the hot tub activities firmly in my mind and will enjoy watching it play on repeat to my utter delight.

What do oysters and Burning Man have in common?

Today, Shutterfly decided to email me and remind me to look at my pictures from this week 11 years ago.

Wow!  What a blast from the past!

Graduation photos from Stanford.

I decided to scroll through all the photos I uploaded to Shutterfly and I came across some fun ones.

The first time I tried raw oysters.

I remember this trip.  I rented a luxury house in Tahoe during the winter and invited my sister and my friends and this guy I just started dating to join me.

The house had a hot tub on the outdoor deck AND a fireplace in the master bedroom and master bathroom!

Here I am sitting in the hot tub (please ignore the clove cigarette and note the snow on the patio railing).  It was COLD out!

I drove back to the Bay Area with the guy I just started dating.  We’ll call him “Tom.”

Tom stopped at his favorite restaurant in Truckee for oysters on the half shell – something I’d never had before.

Here you can see me eyeballing the oysters, working up the guts to eat one (let’s face it, they look kinda slimy and yucky):

Then I ate one!

It’s funny, many of the men I’ve dated have taught me something new.

Tom taught me to like oysters.

Ironically, Tom was a Burner.

A long time burner.

Too bad I waited 10 more years to discover Burning Man on my own!

 

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When you drink with your sister

Start with a mini bottle of Champagne Pink Pop. Pick it out in a pink bottle thinking it’s pink. Discover it’s not pink and be disappointed. Try champagne and be even more disappointed. Add orange juice to make it drinkable.

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Try OREgasmic Ale by Rogue Farms, because it’s supposed to be OREgasmic. Discover OREgasmic beer tastes like dirty feet and pot ash. Definitely not orgasmic. Be disappointed.

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Try cheap stacked wine which comes in its own glass. Have low expectations. Have low expectations met. Feel foolish for trying wine which comes with a pull off lid.

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Try Blood Orange Mimosa. Suspect it’s a headache in a bottle with a screw top lid, but love it anyway.  Make your sister drink most of it after dosing it with vodka.

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 Graduate to bonafide liquor – making really strong mai tai and screwdriver. Decide to hop in the hot tub naked. Have to hang foot out of hot tub because of new foot tattoo (which effing HURTS). Have sister yell at you when you accidentally dip it in the water. Feel sheepish. Snap selfie anyway.

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UPDATE:  Get RAGING cellulitis (skin infection) from dipping foot in hot tub.  Deal with your sister’s “I-told-you-so’s.”  On antibiotics.  Feel even more sheepish.

The post where I straddle his face

michelleI did something OUTRAGEOUS the other day.

I was at a party.

One with a pool and a hot tub where wearing clothes was “optional.”

So I went in the hot tub.

Naked.

BUT THAT’S NOT THE OUTRAGEOUS THING. . .

There was this guy there (there’s always a man, isn’t there?).

We were just chatting about tattoos and I mentioned that I had 5 tattoos.

He asked to see them.

No biggie, right?

Well, two of my tattoos are on my hips and there was no way to show them to him standing up in the hot tub since they were covered by water.

So I stood on the hot tub seat, STRADDLED him, and showed him my tattoos.

WITH MY PUSSY INCHES FROM HIS FACE.

Now, first let me say that I wasn’t really thinking straight. I’d had champagne and fire whiskey and wine.

Until I jumped up and shoved my pussy in his face, I really had no idea that he’d be so close in proximity to it.

I thought I was being more demure but in reality I was being INCREDIBLY BOLD.

I’m confident I will never do this again, but it was fun to do just this once and to see his reaction.

I’m not sure he even SAW my tattoos.

I think he was DISTRACTED. . .

Hot tubs, little dogs, and BIG _____

imageMy friend Richard was kind enough to get me out of the house yesterday with the promise of a hot tub and a nice dinner.

Sensing that the last thing I wanted to do was have another dinner in Los Gatos, we opted for downtown Pleasanton.

Now the first thing you need to know about Richard is that he is one of the most generous people I know – hence the offer for me to spend the afternoon at his vacation home lounging in the hot tub while writing blog posts.  Would I like to lounge at the Treehouse?  Um, yes please thank you.

The second thing you need to know about Richard is that he has a really big….

…heart!  Jeez, what were you thinking?!

Yes, Richard has a huge heart as evidenced by him taking this lonely girl out for a decent meal and some good company… something I was sorely in need of.

We were eating dinner at a creperie downtown along with Kelso, Richard’s adorable Australian shepherd when Richard asked, “So what do you think of downtown Pleasanton?”

“It kinda reminds me of Los Gatos.”

When it comes to sex I’m like a 13 year old teenage boy

When it comes to sex I’m like a 13 year old teenage boy.

Oh sure, I’d like to pretend that I’m poised and classy when it comes to catching a little nookie.

But I’m not.

Instead I’m about as subtle as a horny teenager about to land some for the first time.

I’m goofy. I grin. I can’t make eye contact.

Take for instance my romp with Nathan.

There we were in the hot tub reception area.

They actually MADE US WAIT in the reception area while shifts changed.

Oh, it was exquisitely nerve wracking and made me squirm in my seat.

All those people LOOKING at me. KNOWING exactly what I’m there for.

And that’s when it happened.

I grinned a shit eating grin.

And I couldn’t stop.

Everywhere I looked, everyone I looked at I had a HUGE grin for.

After all, they were there for the same reason.

We went into our “hot tub room” and did some horizontal mattress dancing.

IMG_9047And when we left, I stepped out into the sunlight, looked directly at a man seated in his truck outside the hot tubs, made eye contact, and I laughed like a fucking hyena.

I just got some.

Ha ha ha!

See…. 13 year old boy.

The ants go marching one by one

One of the things I LOVE about going to visit my sister in Reno is that she has a hot tub.

And when my boys aren’t with me and it’s just her and I, it’s a CLOTHING OPTIONAL hot tub.

This last visit, my sister informed me that she turned down the temperature to 85 degrees so that we could use it as a “pool” or crank it up to 100 to use as a hot tub.

So we all got ready to jump in the hot tub and I went out to prep it and discovered that ANTS HAD SET UP RESIDENCE BETWEEN THE HOT TUB AND THE LID.

There were MILLIONS of ants all over the place.

Even their little larvae and eggs were in piles around the perimeter of the hot tub.

It was completely dis-gus-ting (the photo below is just one small section of the ants):

IMG_7159Now I’m not one to freak out over a few ants but a whole army of them was something to behold.

I hiked up my dress, turned on the hose, climbed into the hot tub, and hosed those puppies off the hot tub.

Of course a bunch actually fell into the hot tub.

Couldn’t be helped.

So I was walking around in ant stew in my sister’s hot tub cleaning ants off it.

I am nothing if not a good sister.

After a while, the lid and hot tub were clear of ants.

But the water was a different story.

We waited a few hours, went back out and the water was clean again. No ants. No larvae. No eggs.

Just crystal clear water.

Lisa kicked up the temperature in the hot to dissuade future tenants from moving in and I looked at her and said…

“I know it was filled with ants just a few hours ago, but I’d go it.”

BottleRock Napa, part 1

BottleRock Napa… in one word?  Outrageous.  Fun. Wild. Crazy. Wine. Food. Music.  Friends.

For one crazy weekend, my girlfriends and I went to Napa and attended BottleRock.

We started out with a stop at Chandon Winery for a little sparkling wine flight and a bottle of champagne.  We purchased 3 more bottles of sparkling wine to take to our hotel, knowing we’d probably kill them that night.

 

Slightly inebriated, we went to our hotel and soaked in the tub.

 

Our soak was followed by a very exotic dinner at Denny’s.  Then we took a very expensive cab ride from Fairfield to Downtown Vacaville to go dancing.

Pool, beer, ghetto metal, and dancing ensued.  Then we took off and went dancing at Blondies.  A great time was had by all!

More on BottleRock in the next post…