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.

I’m a millionaire

Mother’s Day is coming up!

I just realized this.

Which means I have to get something for my mom, my birthmom, stepmom and my grandma.

I am thinking I’ll get some really beautiful handmade cards for each of them.

I’m sort of in love with these POP UP cards from ScrappyTailsCrafts on Etsy:

Aren’t they just BEAUTIFUL?!

Just like my moms, my stepmom and my grandma!

And I always try to do something special for my friend Barbara, whose mother passed away a few years ago (and on my birthday).

I know she keenly feels the loss, and Mother’s Day just exacerbates it.

Usually I send flowers, and I’m thinking this year I’ll send something a little different.

Like a cookie bouquet!

A tasty treat for my dear friend.

As always, Mother’s Day makes me realize how many SPECTACULAR WOMEN I have in my life, not just my mothers, but also my sisters, aunts, and friends.

I believe you can measure the happiness in your life by the number of really close female relationships you have.

And in that respect, I’m a millionaire!

The one where she admits she took a lap dancing class

I had my first lap dancing class on Thursday.

The important thing is to start off with a glass or wine or two to loosen yourself up for the activity at hand. Which was great because I walked into the studio right as a girl was changing in to her dance outfit (black hot pants with studs and a matching triangle bikini top) in the lobby. Bam!

She then proceeded to slip on her 7 ½ inch heels. OMG….. now I know why men love heels on women. Pow!

My class started with my instructor Heather, also wearing booty pants and a tank top, telling the class the 5 Rules of Lap Dance:

  1. Arch your back
  2. Move slow
  3. Point your toes
  4. Make eye contact
  5. Touch yourself

Anyway, we warmed up on the floor with a sexy little stretching routine. Slow, always slow. Then we began to learn our lap dance in bed routine:

  • Step 1: Strut around in heels.
  • Step 2: Lean your back against the wall and spread your legs.
  • Step 3: Close your legs and melt down the wall to the floor.
  • Step 4: Crawl to the bed. Opposite knee, opposite paw.
  • Step 5: Run your fingertips, then hands, then forearms up his legs getting closer to the goods every time.
  • Step 6: Rub your chest over his chest and up to his face so he gets a good view of the kittens. Tantalize for a minute.
  • Step 7: Straddle his leg. Grind a little.

And that’s as far as we got.  Two more classes will teach me the rest.

I have to say, the whole experience was great. Once your forget yourself (wine helps) and get in to the mood, everything starts to flow.

Get in a sexy mood. Make eye contact. Touch yourself. Show off your body. It was all very enjoyable and, dare I say, pleasurable.

It did occur to me as I was taking my class how lucky I was. Men would kill to see what I was seeing.

Not only was I learning something, but I was getting quite the show!

And just for laughs and giggles, here is a picture of the man I got to give a lap dance to in bed….

photo(29)Sexy, eh?  Picture me grinding on that….

Foot in Mouth

So there I am, sipping a beer with a nice gentleman, chatting casually about Burning Man when he asked me a question.

I HEARD him ask, “So what’s was your favorite part of Burning Man?

My response?

The sex.

You just can’t save me from myself, can you?

He leaned in closer to me and asked, “Like sex on the beach?”

Wait!

What did you just ask me?

APPARENTLY, he asked me what was my favorite DRINK at Burning Man.

Oops!

So.

Now he knows that I’m a horn dog.

Also?

He knows I’m honest to a fault.

That must count for something!

A Sheer Disaster

So there I am, browsing through my Instagram when THIS picture pops up:

A beautiful curvy lady in ONE REALLY FUCKED UP DRESS.

WTF is going on here?

I had to take a better look.

She is wearing a see through dress embroidered with red roses. Underneath she’s wearing a matching nude bra and panty set with contrast black striping.

Is this a thing now?

First there were dresses with sheer panels.

Then sheer skirts and jumpsuits you have to wear your best knickers for.

AND NOW. . .

Now the whole frigging dress is sheer and requires you to be comfortable letting the world see you in your unmentionables.

This is why I like Burning Man events.

I can wear sheer clothes and no one blinks an eye.

I went to an Angels and Demons party dressed as a demon and the top of my dress was TOTALLY SHEER!

As much as I was tempted to go topless under it, I finally admitted to myself that my balls of steel were less steely and more squishy when it came to this.

I wore a black bandage bustier underneath it and was quite comfortable letting people peep my lingerie.

I even attended a “lingerie” party in. . . you guessed it. . . my LINGERIE!

But if you ask me if I would go on a date or out with my girlfriends wearing this dress, the answer is HELLO FUCKING NO!

Not unless I get to wear a full length wool coat buttoned up over my outfit.

And here I get confused. There’s a #MeToo movement on Facebook which asks women to post #MeToo in their status if they’ve ever been sexually assaulted.

Shouldn’t women be able to walk around in sheer clothes and underwear and feel safe from sexual predation?

Does wearing sheer clothing encourage the over-sexualization of women?

I don’t know the answer.

I suspect a PhD in Gender Studies could address the topic far better than I.

What I do know is this. . . I wear sheer clothes at Burning Man events BECAUSE it’s a safer environment where CONSENT IS KEY.

Out there in the Default World, I wouldn’t be caught dead in anything so sheer.

Poly or no?

I have a friend.

We’ll call him ‘Sam.’

Sam wants me to set him up with all the single women I know.

The thing is, Sam is poly.

At least Sam claims he’s poly.

[I personally think he’s flexible, for the right woman.]

All the women I know are monogamous.

Definitely NOT poly.

Anyway, Sam is upset that I offered to set up my friend Rob with two of my single girlfriends.

Beyond the fact that Sam is 10+ years older than Rob and simply less appropriate for the 30 – 40 year old women I know, Sam is POLY.

He likes to point out that I don’t believe he’s poly.

I like to point out that it doesn’t matter what I BELIEVE, it matters what HE BELIEVES.

So no, I’m not going to set up a monogamous woman with a poly man.

And, just so you know, I think it’s a wee bit deceptive that Sam’s online dating profiles don’t specify that he’s poly.

Now.

I COULD BE COMPLETELY WRONG ABOUT THIS, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that his lack of success in the dating pool could have something to do with the fact that he’s fishing in the wrong fucking pool with the wrong fucking bait.

Just saying.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I know I said I would STAY AWAY from policemen.

My ex-husband was a police officer, after all, and look how that turned out.

It’s not that I dislike policemen.

Not at all.

I admire the work that they do – keeping the peace and maintaining law in society.

Every day, they see people having the WORST day of their lives, which can’t be easy.

You couldn’t pay me enough money to do what they do.

Thank you, I’ll keep on planning events and balancing the budget.

Which is why I’m shocked that I like Chad.

Chad is a DOUBLE WHAMMY.

He’s a cop and was in the military.

The Air Force to be exact.

Actually, he was a policeman in the Air Force.

I find this combination of careers oddly fascinating.

Lord knows I have loved me some military men in the past (you know who you are).

And I do know some very upstanding police officers (Hi Jon).

But usually, I hear the word “police” and I run the other way.

This time around, none of my warning bells were going off.

Chad sent me a picture of himself, which looked oddly familiar.

A man, dressed in blue, with a navy ball cap on. . .

Looks like an academy photo, smells like an academy photo, MUST BE AN ACADEMY PHOTO.

I freaked out (a little) and said, “You’re not a cop.”

He replied with the EYES WIDE OPEN emoticon.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Burner Girls

I love my burner sisters.

They are by and large a group of resilient, beautiful, strong, and intelligent women.

Once again, however, I must object to the portrayal of burner women in the media.

Photographers seem to gravitate to skinny models and ignore non-mainstream burner women.

The diversity I see on the playa is not reflected in the photos I see.

And I can’t help but be disappointed.

Where are the curvy girls?

Where are my elders?

Where are my casually dressed burner sisters?

Where are the beautiful women of ethnicity?

Not everyone is a size two, young Caucasian model in full festival wear.

I follow an instagram feed called burnergirls.

And for the most part, it’s a lot of young, thin women in booty sticking out shorts wearing full festival gear.

Most of the pictures are authentic in that the burner girls are covered in dust.

I always look at their boots.

If the boots are dusty, then they’re real burners. If the boots are black, then the woman/women in the picture are models.

Real burner:

Model:

Lately, however, burnergirls has started to embrace the diversity we see on playa.

With older women:

With curvy women:

And with ethnic women:

I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see these women appear in my instagram feed.

It reminds me of HOME and where I like to be – right in the middle of a group of gorgeous burner women celebrating being at Burning Man and living our dreams.

Save

Coffee dates SUCK!!!

Dating sucks.

I have never been on a coffee date that went well.

It’s as if investing only $2 in your first meeting somehow destines it for failure.

What can you learn about someone in a 30 minute conversation that’s going to drive you wild for them?

Nothing.

At best, it’s a polite conversation about things that don’t matter.

At worst, it’s an awkward conversation about things that don’t matter.

It’s a waste of everyone’s time.

I personally prefer to share a meal with someone. To share a drink and perhaps get relaxed enough to get the real conversation flowing.

My $1000 date was fantastic.

Not because my date spent $1000 or because the $500 bottle of wine made me want to cry tears of joy.

No, it was because I had a connection with my date. We were both relaxed and the conversation flowed freely.

But a coffee date? Who falls in love over their Starbucks?

I suppose this is just a rant about not having the opportunity to connect with anyone on a meaningful level and blaming the coffee date for the lack of connection.

The truth is people do fall in love over lattes.

Just not this woman.

Love Spells and 20 Questions

jennifer2So my cousin Jennifer tagged me in a Facebook post “If you want to fall in love with anyone, apparently all you have to do is ask them these questions.

Hmmmmm.

Intriguing.

I bought a Love Spell for $1 from the Renaissance Faire and I’m still single.

But okay, what gives?

I clicked the link.

I found that the questions were grouped into three categories – each with increasing intimacy.

Set 1 had questions like:

  • Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?
  • When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?
  • If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Set 2 had questions like:

  • What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?
  • If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?
  • How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?

And Set 3 had questions like:

  • Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.
  • Tell your partner something that you like about them already.
  • Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?

Whew!

Those questions really pull from the gut and I’m afraid I’d be emotionally exhausted after sharing them.

But I get what they are intending to do: create intimacy.

Remove the veils of pretense and get to the heart of who each of us is.

Because deep down, under all the layers we carry to protect ourselves, all we really want is to be seen and to be loved for who we really are.

Full stop.

I’m not saying this approach will work but it’ll certainly weed out the men who aren’t looking for a relationship.

The author caps off this Q and A session with eye gazing for 2 to 4 minutes.

Have you ever eye gazed?

It’s not easy to do. In the beginning it’s awkward. You may laugh a bit. Roll your eyes. But then you start to FEEL something. A connection. You start to SEE someone as a vulnerable human being. You soften. They react.

It’s actually quite beautiful.

So maybe these questions will be as effective as my Love Spell, but I’m willing to give anything a try. . .