Many snores

I just took a trip to Reno to visit my sister.

We got facials and used the facilities at the Spa Toscano at The Peppermill.

It was ah-mazing!

I actually fell asleep during my facial and woke myself up when I snored.

Yup, I snored in the middle of my facial.


I was obviously SO RELAXED!

In the women’s locker room, there were several spa features:

  1. A hot tub
  2. A cold plunge
  3. A steam room
  4. A sauna

Personally, I stripped naked and jumped in the hot tub.

I was surprised to see all the other women in swimsuits.

Even a bridal party of seven skinny women did not have the balls to strip naked in the ladies locker room.

Given the opportunity to get naked, I ALWAYS get naked.

In fact, hanging out at the spa made me miss Lupin Lodge in the Santa Cruz mountains, where you can walk around naked as they day you were born in the beautiful sunshine.

My sister and I eventually put on swimsuits and went to the Caldarium (an indoor area with a soaking pool and hot tubs where you can eat and drink).

She soaked in the pool while I hung out in the hot tub.

Afterwards, we got to eat at the Bimini Steakhouse at The Peppermill and I KID YOU NOT, we both ordered the filet mignon and the Australian lobster tail and when our food arrived, there were TWO LOBSTER TAILS FOR EACH OF US.

Too much food to eat, so we basically forced ourselves to eat the lobster tails and took most of our filet mignon home.

A dessert of cherries jubilee, and we were finished with our day of pampering.

Reno might not be the city you think of when you think of a weekend of pampering and relaxation, but I’m here to tell you it is.

I wish you all many snores!

Who needs sleep, anyways?

The thing that I remember MOST about unSCruz last year (besides some stellar “naps” with The Swede) was how FRIGGING COLD it was in the evenings.

I brought this to wear at night:

Now, there are two things wrong with this.

  1. It is obviously not a cold weather romper. In fact, I doubt any romper is appropriate for cold weather.
  2. I can’t figure out how to get into it sober, let alone figure out how to get into it when I’m drunk, in the dark, in a tent, with The Swede watching. There’s just too many straps and moving parts.

Because of this, I did something I almost never do.

I slept in the nude.


Why it is that men are like furnaces when it’s cold but my ass is like an ice cube?

Apparently during the night, I STOLE all the covers and The Swede had to wake me up and ask for the covers back.

Of course, I obliged.

Then I snuggled with him to warm HIM up.

Because I’m sweet like that.

This time around there will be no Swede, warm or cold, to keep me company.

I am sleeping in a small 7 foot by 8 foot tent.

I’m less than enthusiastic about my prospects for keeping warm at night.

You see, I much prefer a human body next to me instead of a pillow.

But somehow I’m sure I’ll survive.

And who needs sleep anyways?

Rain on a tarp

As you read this I am sitting in a field somewhere outside Sacramento, trying to stay out of the rain.

It’s Pagan Bunny Burn time and the weather that is predicted is basically light rain.

Not so bad.

Could be worse.

But could be better.

Camping in the rain is not my favorite thing.

Actually I should clarify – SETTING UP CAMP IN THE RAIN is not my thing.

I’m perfectly okay with hanging out under a canopy, listening to the rain fall, while chatting with my friends and sharing a pint.

Perhaps that’s why I’m not in the mood to cancel all my weekend plans.

What’s a little rain when there’s fun to be had and shenanigans to enjoy with friends?

The last time I camped in the rain was at my very first unSCruz in 2016 – day 1 and day 2.

I still had my tent trailer Dolly, and it was fairly easy to set her up, even during the rain.

Less than five minutes.

But I watched as my friend Marina and her boyfriend worked at setting up her tent and I have a picture of the two of them, wet and annoyed, eating lunch in my tent trailer.

Ironically, it’s one of my favorite memories of the two of them because despite the rainy conditions and their frustrations, we were inside my trailer, warming up, and enjoying being out of the rain for a little bit.

It was the first (and only) time I was able to accommodate friends in my trailer.

Up until then it had only been my boys and I.

So as you read this, I’m hoping that I’m right smack dab in the middle of having a great time, camping at PBB.

One thing is for sure – I’m going to sleep like a baby.

Because it is a little known fact (not even The Swede knows) that when I’m having a hard time falling asleep, the ambient noise that puts me right to sleep is RAIN ON A TARP!

And there’s going to be plenty of that at the Bunny Burn!

Farewell soft pillows of my body!

I’ve always imagined that I look peaceful and sweet when I sleep.

Like a dainty little goddess floating on a sea of pillows.

Of course that was before The Swede took a picture of me sleeping on New Year’s Day and shared it with me.

Furrowed brow.

Bundled in blankets.

Pouty lip.

Not exactly the picture of sweetness and light I was hoping for.

Lately, I’m unimpressed with all pictures of me.

There’s just a little too much round and not enough angles.

But that’s on remedy, since my Medical Weight Management program starts today.

Nothing like going on a 960 calories-a-day diet to make a person slim down post holiday season, eh?

Sadly, I am fearful I will lose my butt and my boobs in the process, but it’s something I must live with if I want to be healthy.

Farewell soft pillows of my body.

I’m gonna miss you!

Sleeping on airplanes

I have NEVER.


Fallen asleep on an airplane.

Believe you me, it’s like TORTURE not being able to sleep.

All those hours ticking by, slowly, with my body contorted into an uncomfortable sitting position.

Pressure on my poor broken tailbone.

All the blood in my body pooling in my feet.

I am DETERMINED to fall asleep on my flight to Sweden.

Number one, because I want to shorten the long flight.

And number two, because I want to avoid jet lag.

So I have an arsenal of medications to soothe me.

First of all, I have my good pal Lorazepam.

I take it on every flight I go on, just to take the edge off.

Haven’t fallen asleep yet, but wait. . .

I also have my pal Melatonin.

6 mg of that puppy should put me on the edge of lullaby land.

And if that isn’t enough, I plan to consume my friends Benadryl and Dramamine.

Because those fuckers ALWAYS make me sleepy when I’m having an allergy attack or trying to avoid motion sickness.

Do I want the less drowsy formulas?

No fucking way!

Only full drowsiness for me.

The bottom line is that I am prepared to force my body to fall asleep at 3 pm PST and wake up at 9 am Stockholm time (12 am PST).

I may turn into a slug and melt into my seat, but by God, I will get some rest!

Hooker’s baths and Lorazepam


Just a bone to pick.

I travel very rarely.

Mostly, I take trips to Reno, Nevada to visit my sister.

Occasionally I go to Hawaii with my boys.

The flights are 1 hour and 5 hours respectively from San Jose.

I’m checking out websites that have helpful suggestions on how to maximize comfort on long economy flights.

One suggested bringing aromatherapy.

This sounds like a good idea however thinking of my neighbors, I am hesitant to actually partake in aromatherapy seeing as how it might disturb the neighbors.

People can be very sensitive to smell.

I must admit, the idea of spraying potpourri in the toilet after someone dropped a deuce in there is kind of appealing.

Then again, so is waiting for the stench to disappear.

Another site recommended noise cancelling headphones.

Brilliant idea!

However, the cost is upwards of $300 so it’s not likely to be something I’m going to buy despite the fact that I think it’s a very useful suggestion.

Maybe if I start flying more I’ll invest in a pair.

I remember flying to Scotland with my sister a decade ago.

We left San Francisco smelling fresh and rosy.

We arrived in Scotland smelling like the gutter.

So it’s likely that I’ll take a hooker’s bath (baby wipes) when I reach Iceland so I don’t smell like rotten eggs for The Swede when I arrive in Stockholm.

I’m going to put my hair in a nice tidy bun.

I have a blackout blindfold (kinky), and comfortable ear plugs.

And Tejas lent me his neck pillow.

That’s about as luxurious and comfortable as I can make my trip.

Oh yeah, I bought compression socks as well, so I don’t arrive with my thighs hanging around my ankles.

Fuck, getting older SUCKS!

Nevertheless, I’m pretty sure my friend Lorazepam will help me sleep though as much of the flight as is possible.

Zzzzzzz. . .


So there’s the class at my yoga studio titles, “Learn to Sleep Better.”

Ok.  Not as exciting as a blow job class but hey, who couldn’t use a few tips on how to catch a few extra Z’s at night?

The instructor is a Ph.D. Not an M.D. which instantly makes me nervous.  I mean, shouldn’t you have a medical background to dispense advice on sleeping?  What’s to keep me from hanging a shingle and dispensing my own “sleep advice”?

I’d suggest a whole like of nutty things like trying your thumbs together, eating fluffer nutters before bed, and humming the National Anthem backwards.

My point being… how is anyone supposed to know what makes this Ph.D. yoga instructor more qualified than me?

Well, for starts, it helps that he conducted sleep research at Stanford University.  That gives him some credibility.  Also, he studied at the University of California.  Not too shabby.

But I think his most prudent qualification is his full head of hair, bright white smile, and sparkling eyes.  The yoga ladies will eat his up.  Nom nom.

Yes, the sleep research scientist/yoga instructor is a bottle (aren’t they all) which makes me way more interested in going to hear him talk.

I’m not sure he can help me though since my sleep problem is that I have to get up to pee a lot.

And I’m not really sure that I want to admit that to a hottie.