Nightmare

I had a nightmare.

Not your average wake-up-stressed-out nightmare.

No.

This was a wake-up-barely-breathing nightmare.

I started to sing an ABBA song to myself to calm my nerves.

Waterloo.

Something peppy and upbeat to combat the fear coursing through my body.

“Alexa, turn on the light,” I commanded.

Alexa, that smarmy little bitch, did no such thing.

“Alexa, turn on the light,” I repeated.

My Amazon Echo did not respond.

So I reached over and turned on the light.

Relief.

I dreamt that someone was hurting people and I was chasing it. I cornered it in an old, scary house and looked it in the face.

The face was black, like a dementor from Harry Potter, but gradually a face emerged.

My brother.

That’s when I woke up.

I texted The Swede.

I knew he’d be up at 1 am PST, 10 am Swedish time.

Sure enough, he texted me back.

He calmed me down and settled my nerves.

He didn’t laugh or make fun of me.

It’s as if he sensed that I needed to get it out of my system before I could go back to sleep again.

So he just let me vent.

What can I say?

He’s just an amazing man.

Maybe it’s because he has daughters that he seems particularly in tune with the feminine, my feminine, particularly when I’m freaking out.

But I’ll tell you, had he been in the bed with me, I would have wrapped myself around him and thanked him from the bottom of my heart.

I was SO GRATEFUL!

Playing Favorites

I miss my Swede.

It’s been six months since his last visit and there’s at least another 2 months until he comes back to the Bay Area.

I can’t wait for him to visit.

Honestly, he is the closest I’ve come to having a real relationship with a man in the last 4 years.

He’s actually the only man I would miss if he chose to never see me again.

I love me some Swede, that’s for sure.

In my mind, I imagine meeting him at the airport when he flies in and practically knocking him off his feet with an enormous hug and kiss.

If I stumbled across a genie in a bottle and got three wishes, for sure one wish would be spent wishing we lived close to each other.

That’s how much I like him.

I know, I know.

I’m single and playing the field.

But it’s okay to have a favorite.

And he is DEFINITELY my favorite.

Playa Romance

During my 2015 burn, I got dumped.

During my 2016 burn, I was a nun.

During my 2017 burn, I played the field.

What to do for my 2018 burn?

Why, I’m hoping for a playa romance.

Perhaps I’ll hook up with some lucky burner guy and have a wee little playa romance.

I think I’d like that.

Someone to explore the playa with during the day, experience the nightlife with at night, and romp in bed with at all hours of the day and night.

Perfect!

In short, BRING ON THE SWEDE, my sexy scorpio lover!

How much would I LOVE to introduce the Swede to Burning Man?

A whole lot, let me tell you.

I’d drag him all over the playa to experience the art, the people, and the interactivity of Burning Man.

And of course, I heart the Swede so we could have a nice passionate romance on the playa.

He was my boyfriend for a WEEKEND at UnSCruz.

Now he could be my boyfriend for a WEEK at Burning Man.

I think I’ve been playing the field for too long and I need to wean myself off of the steady stream of men entering and exiting my life.

Wouldn’t a playa romance be PERFECT in the regard?

A short term fling to remind me how nice it is to be coupled up?

Yes indeed, I’m in need of a playa romance.

Just putting it out there in the universe. . .

Cuddle Puddle

I signed myself up to join a cuddle puddle then chickened out.

Basically, I didn’t want to snuggle with strangers.

I was afraid of bad breath, long toenails, and thrusting pelvises.

I have no idea if any of that would have materialized but for the first time in my life, I withdrew myself from an adventure and let it pass me by.

It’s not that I’m against cuddle puddles.

Actually, I LIKE the idea of them when I imagine I’m with a close group of friends who I know and find appealing.

I have a fantasy cuddle puddle – a group of men and women who I’d like to snuggle with.

In my mind, they’ve taken E and I’m just floating around in a sea of warm bodies, enjoying the sensations in my own body.

The thing about this fantasy is. . .

. . .it just MAY come true.

You never know what’s going to happen on the playa.

I could wind up snuggling with some truly delicious people.

Unfortunately, The Swede won’t be there.

He, of all people, should be in my cuddle puddle on account of my body is magnetized to his.

But I know of some other people who I think would make stellar snuggle buddies.

And (fingers crossed) I hope I get my wish.

Fortunes

I have a theory about fortune cookies.

If you get a fortune you don’t care for, just leave it on the table and the fortune goes away.

But if you get a fortune you like, you have to keep it on your person and it will come true.

At any given time, you can find a half dozen or so fortunes stuffed in my wallet.

The other day, I got THIS fortune with my Panda Express order:

A long awaited vacation?

A great deal of pleasure?

Am I going to Sweden?

Cuz that way pleasure lies.

Oh, how I miss my Swede.

Then again, maybe it’s referring to Burning Man.

When I think of all the things I want to do at Burning Man, I get warm and fuzzy feelings inside.

My cuddle puddle.

The foam bath dance party.

Human Carcass Wash.

Saunadome.

Given the fact that I’ve been abstinent since unSCruz in May, I LOVE the idea of having a “great” deal of pleasure coming my way.

It just remains to be seen which form that pleasure comes in.

But overall, this fortune?

It’s a keeper.

Kissing

When I went out with The Swede, at the end of our date, I thought, “Well, there’s a guy who will never ask me out again.”

Boy, was I wrong.

Of course, I based this on the fact that he was initially very quiet around me. I mistook his silence for disinterest.

And, he didn’t kiss me.

Well that’s because the two of us have completely different theories about who to kiss.

He believes in kissing only the people he really wants to kiss after he gets to know them whereas I believe in kissing as many people as will let me kiss them trying to find the good ones.

I know.

It’s a strange phenomenon.

I can kiss just about anyone, so long as they don’t have bad teeth or bad breath.

And I believe heartily in doing it.

Because let’s face it, it wouldn’t hurt the world to have a lot more kissing (and hugging) in it.

When it comes to kissing, The Swede has got to be right at the top of my list of best kissers of all time.

It may have taken a year to kiss him (he lives in Sweden, folks), but once I started, I didn’t want to stop.

You ever get so lost in a kiss that time passing by seems to disappear?

You ever lose track of your body and only feel sensation in your lips?

You ever feel the need to change your panties after a kiss?

That’s what kissing The Swede is like.

So color me happy he asked me out again and got around to kissing me.

We should have started kissing each other a lot sooner.

Who knew I’d need to go to Sweden to get kissed?!

Save

Sad news here

Sad news here.

The Swede will NOT be going to Burning Man with me.

Not only does he have to go to Vegas for work (poor boy), he’s got to get back home early for a commitment.

Normally, I’d be crushed.

But since I knew all along that him coming to Burning Man was a LONGSHOT, I didn’t get my hopes up too high.

However, I was fantasizing about taking my own “Burning Man virgin” to Burning Man.

What would that BE like?

We’d have to take a sauna at Saunadome AND see their electric space car.

Lay under The Firmament.

We’d get naked and washed by many people at The Human Carcass Wash.

And of course, we’d have to go by Barbie Death camp for massages.

There’d also be Transfoamation – where we’d get naked (again) and dance in foam with other burners.

Being a beer fan, I’d have to take him to Home Brew Camp for beers.

Then there are trips into the deep playa on an art car which are a must.

And this year, there’s the Symphonic Ballet “Rite of Spring” that I want to see.

Not to mention visiting The Man and The Temple and watching them burn, burn, burn to the ground.

I also imagine ALL THE SEX I’d get and if you ask me, I am most disappointed that I will not be saddle sore by the time Burning Man ends.

Because I find Burning Man very stimulating and it would be SO NICE TO HAVE A LOVER.

Nevertheless, I will have a grand time, I am sure, even without The Swede.

There’s too much to see and to do.

Too many friends to visit and have fun with,

too much booze to drink,

too much music to dance to,

too many lights to enjoy,

too much of everything to feel lonely.

Me and Murphy’s Law

What do you think about The Swede coming to Burning Man?

O. M. G.

Right?

I’m beside myself with excitement and trepidation!

First of all, I get excited at the prospect of any of my friends going to Burning Man with me. I love the burn and I love sharing the experience with others.

Secondly, I’ve never had a partner go with me to Burning Man and hang out with me. So this would be something new.

And lastly. . . hello. . . SEX!

Who doesn’t want a tidal wave of that on the playa?

I know I do and last year there was a D R O U G H T.

But. . .

You know I’m a planner and ALL MY PLANS WOULD BASICALLY BE TOSSED OUT THE WINDOW.

I’d have to start all over from scratch (including bringing MORE condoms).

LOL

The food and beverages.

The sleeping arrangements.

The interactivity.

You know how I like to STICK TO THE PLAN.

In addition to changing plans, there’s another concern.

Burning Man is like a hot cauldron for relationships.

If you’re not strong, you won’t survive.

And The Swede and I have just a wee baby relationship.

Dare I put it to the test THIS EARLY ON?

Ultimately, I think The Swede will not go to Burning Man because I want him to go and Murphy’s Law dictates that I won’t get what I want.

But I LOVE knowing that he does actually want to go.

And who knows, maybe Murphy’s Law will fail.

Finger crossed!

Story of my life

I am a planner.

All my shit is packed for Burning Man already.

Just add food.

And I plan events IRL.

It’s just what I do.

So when I found out that The Swede was coming to California to go to unSCruz with me, you can be damn sure that I planned the hell out of that weekend.

The food.

The booze.

The bedroom.

I wanted it perfect.

Now as many of you know, I have a “thing” for lingerie.

Every time I sleep with someone new, I get new lingerie.

It’s just a habit I’ve developed over time.

New man = new lingerie.

That accounts for why I have 5 (used to be 7) drawers full of the stuff.

So I bought lingerie for The Swede.

A short little black, strappy number in soft silk.

And then, as is typical for me, I proceeded to get too drunk to figure out how to put it on.

It’s not easy to navigate strappy things in the dark when you’re drunk and a handsome warm man is laying in your bed waiting for you.

So I went to bed naked.

Which is par for the course for me.

Girl attempts to seduce boys with sexy lingerie. Girl gets too drunk to put on sexy lingerie. Girl continues to buy sexy lingerie even though it never gets worn.

Story of my life.

Sad Face

As it turns out, The Swede will not be visiting California in June.

Yes, I got the news today and was really disappointed.

But I had a feeling it was not going to work out.

Murphy’s Law.

I bought tickets to the burlesque show hoping he’d be here THERBY jinxing his visit.

C’est la vie.

I’m sure he’ll get over here again so all is not lost, but for the time being, NO VISIT.

What do I do with the two tickets I have to the Blackheart Burlesque show in Santa Cruz?

Why I take Yvonne, of course.

Tejas’ ex-girlfriend and I have struck up a friendship.

So I’m taking her to the show.

I can’t wait to watch the Suicide Girls prance about in their costumes, putting on a show for the audience.

It’ll be amazing.

Hopefully, I’ll be able to take pictures so I can blog about it (and send pics to The Swede so he can live vicariously).

Still, I’m sad I won’t be seeing The Swede anytime soon.

Sad face.