Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

Last night at Taco Tuesday my friends and I were lamenting over the seemingly, depressing pool of single women within the lesbian community. Well, at least in our little neck of the woods.

I declared, “We must find new blood! We’re ALL single at the same time and we MUST find some new women!”

To which Maggie nodded in agreement and replied, “Yes, we must restock our inventory.”

Hahaha …. yep. We really do need some new inventory. And by inventory, I mean some hot, new, interesting single lesbians that have been untouched by anyone in our little gang of ball busting honeys.

So we started talking about what we want in the same sex and realized that it’s probably a good thing that we all have drastically different ideas of what the “ideal” woman would be.

Jeanine wants to date herself. If she could find her clone, she’s pretty sure that world domination both on and off the planet would follow shortly after. I’m not sure, but I don’t think she’s exaggerating.

Maggie …. well Maggie. What can I say about her? I happen to have some of the pickiest, selective, some might even go as far as to say difficult friends to please in the entire world.

After a while Jeanine was loudly announcing that she has come to the conclusion that she is “Un-dateable.” Maggie and I do not agree with her assessment, but on some level I concur. I agree that in general, my friends and I may be pretty fucking difficult to date successfully.

But that’s not the point. The point is that we need to restock the shelves from which we browse for our next conquest, find our next ex, or *gasp* maybe even find the one.

I’ve been single for a long time now. I mean looooooong time. A recent pseudo relationship wet my appetite for the real thing and I’ve now entered into a slightly optimistic, romantic phase in which I think I may be ready to settle down for a little bit …. If the right girl comes along.

Therein lies the problem. The right girl does not seem to exist outside of my very vivd imagination. If she does, I don’t think she’s local. So I have enlisted my crew of lesbians to commit to going out to WeHo more often in hopes of finding some suitable or at least fresh meat for our little market of dykes to date.

Will I find the one, or at least the next one at Here, Girl Bar, She Bar, The Abbey, East West Lounge? Maybe. Maybe not. But at least I’m putting myself out there. Like Dr. Phil says, “Put yourself in a target rich environment.” So until gay girls start frequenting my living room, I’m going to be out and about with my eyes peeled for possibilities.

Tags:   single lesbiansNo Comments.

In my most recent post blog I asked you, the reader to share your opinion on NSA relationships. While a few of you went beyond the call of duty and made your comments a bit more personal than I had hoped for, a couple of you were kind enough to give me your honest opinion.

Which leads me to this blog. My friend Maggie left this comment:

“I’m a fan. I’m also recently interested in “open relationships” not because I want to fuck whomever whenever, I just don’t want the expectations or want to have them for someone else. I’m letdown either way. I have heard that the relationships that last the longest are the ones that never make promises.”

It was as if someone flipped the switch and that tiny little light bulb that lives in a bubble over my head went on! Ah ha! An open relationship! That sounds so much better than a NSA thingy.

What’s the difference you ask? Well let me enlighten you, according to Sasha’s logic:

A “NSA” relationship infers that there is little to no feelings attached to whatever physical activities the two are engaged in. Meaning that there is absolutely no emotional or physical intimacy shared between the two, even if the two are occasionally naked together.

However, an open relationship implies the possibility there are feelings of attachment, caring and perhaps even a little or a lot of intimacy shared between the two. However they recognize that at this time, a closed, committed relationship would be doomed. So instead of throwing the baby out with the bath water, they agree to an open relationship.

Eureka! I think I like this whole open relationship thing! It sounds so much more mature and less tawdry than NSA. No strings attached has the tacky feeling of craigslist or drunken nights at your local dive bar. But an open relationship holds onto some semblance of respectability … if you look at it from a slight distance and squint a little.

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When two women agree on a no strings attached, friends with benefits, don’t ask don’t tell policy attached to their pseudo relationship/”we’re only friends” friendship; what does that say about them?

Does that say that one or both of them are:

• Cheaters looking for an easy, almost honest way to keep sleeping around?
• Incapable of commitment?
• Too horny not to grope each other whenever the opportunity strikes?
• Simply afraid of commitment for any number of neurotic personal issues that they seem unable to fix, medicate or ignore at this time?
• That they’re just not that into one another and are using each other to pass the time till something better comes along?
• Or my personal favorite: One of them is a user and the other one is an idiot?
• When someone agrees to an NSA situation does that say something about her self esteem or does it just say she’s a slut?
• Does it say that she’s so hung up on someone that she’s willing to sacrifice what she really wants for just a little taste of the real thing?

I suppose any and all of those are possibilities depending on the situation. I’ll even go as far as saying that the reasons for a NSA relationship could be fluid. Meaning that the motivation for staying in such a situation could fluctuate from one day to the next. She may have agreed to it because she was so into you, she didn’t want to lose you. But as time goes on and other women look her way, she might start to see it differently. More like an advantage than a compromise.

So I’m curious to know, how do you feel about NSA relationships? And I’m not talking about one night stands with people you met on Craigslist. I mean a long-term agreement between two women to be friends, but have commitment free sex whenever one or both of them want it.

Is this a good idea gone bad? Or can there be mutually beneficial factors for everyone involved?

Tags:   cheaters · craigslist · no strings attached · NSA · one night stands7 Comments

A while ago a reader named Donna left this comment:

I think the 20-something lesbians of today are - or are trying to be - the equivalents of the gay men of the 70s. i missed out on all that since I’m now 40, and I’m glad for that.

Which made me wonder, do we fuck too much now a days? As opposed to “making love”…. It wasn’t long ago that even attempting to say “making love” would have been interrupted with my very strong gag reflex. But I’ve been reading a lot lately about our lineage and our herstory: gay rights, butch/femme dynamics, Stonewall, etc.

I have a new found gratitude for the position I find myself in as an out lesbian in Los Angeles, California. I took for granted my ability to walk down the street holding hands with my girlfriend, to kiss her in public, to go to lesbian bars and not have to fear for my life. I stepped into this role like a privileged, spoiled brat that had no idea the price that was paid for my comfort and security.

I’ve blogged about sex like the game it’s become within my social circle. Lacking sincerity, love, compassion. Instead, full of sarcasm, power plays and one-night stands all in the name of fun. But how fun is it really?

Meaningless sex can only prove so much and even then, only to you. It might be able to prove that you can’t be hurt, can’t be bothered to get attached, can’t commit. It might go to show that you’re equal to your male counter parts. That you’re as untouchable as you think you are. That you’re wanted, desired and sought-after.

But if it really proves any of that, it’s probably only in your imagination. Maybe to a few women, who’s hearts you stepped on, on your way to “player” status. But eventually, the excitement begins to wane and the fortress of solitude you’ve so carefully erected around yourself begins to feel a bit claustrophobic.

Do we fuck so that we don’t have to talk about our feelings? So that we don’t have to listen to hers? I do.

Do we fuck for shock value? To push the limits of social acceptability so that whatever we do that’s less that FUCKING is found more palatable and met with less hostility?

Do we fuck as a preemptive strike? I do.

Do we fuck to forget the stress of the day? To self-medicate? To lose ourselves in the orgasm, if only for an hour or ten? I do.

No matter how mind bending the fucking is, when it’s over it’s over and I find myself in my car driving home on deserted streets in the wee hours of the morning, just to avoid spending the night. God forbid I stay longer than it takes for me to find my panties.

Do we fuck out of laziness, because we’re too tired or too rushed to do anything real? To actually connect to another human being?

So we fuck for a thousand reasons. But one of them, I think, is because we’re afraid. We’re afraid to fall in love. Afraid to feel something, because than we can and will, eventually get hurt. We’re afraid that we can’t survive being hurt again. Because we’ve been there done that. Could we be any more jaded? Not really.

So I ask you, do we fuck too much? And by “we” I mean this current generation of lesbians. This L Word, Lesbian Sex in the City, independent, educated social circle of up and coming dykes. Have we become the “gay men of the 70’s” but with less polyester and better shoes?

Tags:   card carrying2 Comments

There are countless ways to define the femme identity/gender and as many ways for each woman to express it in her own way. But for the purpose of this single blog I will define these two versions as such:

High Femme: a femme lesbian who is ultra feminine in her appearance and behavior. May chose to only date butch women. Plays the passive role in the bedroom i.e., she is the one fucked, never the one doing the fucking.

Stone Femme: a femme lesbian that may appear to be an ultra femme in her appearance but expresses butch attributes in bed and may not allow her lovers to fuck her at all. Leaving all the seeming power securely in her capable hands.

Or she may allow herself to be fucked by her partners but never allows them to actually touch her where it counts. Emotionally, intimately, at her core, to break down the walls she’s so skillfully erected over time.

She’s figured out a way to expose her body and hide her heart in her nudity. Her sexuality has become a weapon, not a weakness. She understands that when they’re looking at her body they’re not really looking at her at all. So she’s able to hide in plain sight, to hide in full view, naked and aroused but untouched where it really counts.

A Stone Femme can wield her power over her lover and make her lover feel as if they’re the one in control. She’s strong enough to give up control of her body to someone else, because she knows that they’ll never control anything else about her.

Her lover may dominate her in bed but her lover will never really know her. She only sees what the Stone Femme allows her to see. Even tears are carefully placed props. What seemed like vulnerability was anything but.

Be careful if you know a Stone Femme. Chances are you do, but you don’t realize it. Stone Femmes are mistresses of disguise. Oscar worthy actresses and brilliant chameleons. They’ll be the girl of your dreams and your best friend. They’ll adapt to their environment without even trying, all those years of surviving have molded them into experts at blending in while standing out.

They can do and become anything you need them to be. Anything to keep you at arms distance, but no further. Tied to them through lust and desire but constantly pushing you away with ambiguity and neurosis.

There’s something about them you can’t get enough of. They’re addictive and dangerous yet something about them makes you want to save them. When you hold her body in your arms, the softness of her curves makes her feel vulnerable. When you look into her eyes, behind the long dark lashes you mistakenly think you see weakness. Something in her that needs to be protected.

You’re only half wrong. There’s no weakness left in her but she does need to be saved. From herself more than anything. But she’s made of stone and there’s no way you or anyone else can chip away at it. She’s a Stone Femme. It’s taken her whole life to make her that way. It’ll take a lot more than artful fucking to save her from herself. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

Tags:   femme identity · gender fuck · high femme · queer · stone femme3 Comments

I wonder what weight people actually place on the myspace relationship status thingy? If it reads “single” vs “in a relationship” does that affect whether or not you send them an add request? If it reads “swinger” do you think you have a better shot at getting lucky? Or do think, “Eeeewwww …. my Puritanical upbringing is rearing it’s ugly head and I can’t deal with free love people.”

Well, I just changed my status to “swinger” not because I am currently sleeping around. Because I’m not … at this moment partaking in all the yumminess that the LA lesbian scene offers up on a silver platter. But because I feel that it represents my mind set a little bit more accurately than simply “single.”

Simply “single” may suggest that, although not currently in an exclusive relationship, I may be prone to monogamy. Which I am not. I may be capable of it, but prone to it? … Not so much.

However, “swinger” suggests that I either am currently or potentially involved with more than one person at a time. It’s the potentiality of that outcome in which I am attempting to represent by a mere click under “edit profile” on my ever so important myspace page.

So I ask you, how much weight do you place on other people’s myspace status?

I know when one of my long time friend’s “single” status changed to “in a relationship” I was so excited I blogged about it. When other friends’ statuses changed in the other direction I was instantly saddened and worried about them. So to me, it can mean a lot.

Perhaps I’m getting too philosophical about this whole thing, it wouldn’t be the first time. But for me, my “swinger” status is more about mindset than actual behavior. Although I would hope that when someone says “single” they really are and not married, but feel single. That would suck.

If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a stickler for truth in advertising.

Tags:   myspace · relationship status · swinger1 Comment

It’s one thing to blog about yourself and confess all the countless reasons that you are unsuitable for “in a relationship” status. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting when one of your “victims” leaves a biting, yet true comment on said blog confirming your less than ideal view of yourself.

I won’t apologize for anything today since I didn’t really do anything wrong THIS time. Actually this time I was more straightforward and honest than usual. I admitted that I was already seeing someone else. I told this person that I was not looking for an instant relationship. Maybe my mistake was being too polite. I don’t know but if the woman I’m referring to reads this, feel free to leave another comment about what a crappy person I am. I don’t censor my comments, no matter how much I would like to sometimes.

If I were trying to play women and treat them badly do you really think that I would refer you to my blog for the selfless reason of forewarning you about myself?

No, I wouldn’t. Instead I would keep my mouth shut and my ears open … among other things, to give myself something juicy to blog about. But no! I don’t do that.

Maybe I should though. Maybe I should revert back to my old ways of hittin’ it and quittin’ it…. then I would have something blog worthy almost every day. Well, at least until I ran out of women.

There is one reason that I won’t be doing that any time soon. OK, more than one reason. The first is that I respect women more than that. I’ve grown up a lot since those days and I no longer feel the need to prove my gayness by bedding every girl I see. I don’t like hurting girls, even unintentionally and sometimes my being too polite gets me in trouble. I guess it would be better if I could be a bit bitchier when called for. But I’ve never been good at that. It’s like pulling a bandaid off in one quick motion instead of easing it off a little at a time. I need to yank more and pull less.

Whatever I need to do, the fact remains that unlike most lesbians, I come prepackaged with a huge warning label that reads:

Warning: Contents may be hazardous to your emotional health. Highly flammable, handle with care.

Tags: 3 Comments

Getting involved with emotionally unavailable women.

Yep, I’m sooo guilty of that it’s not even funny. But when I look at it from a deeper perspective I’m forced to admit that part of the reason I’m attracted to these emotionally distant women is because I’m as unavailable and cold as they are. If not more.

Not that I want to be that way, or that I try to be. In fact anyone who knows me would probably disagree with that statement. But that would only go to show that I’ve managed to keep them at a distance far enough away that I appear to be something I am not: emotionally available and secure in what I want and need. Nope, that’s not me. Objects in mirror are farther away then they appear.

Yet even with a moderate amount of self-awareness, I still find myself helplessly entangled with women that can’t offer anything more substantial than a maybe on a coffee date.

Which leaves me kicking myself for not falling for the nice girls that offer up on a silver platter everything I thought I wanted and everything I should want. But instead I’m stuck on stupid for all the wrong women, for all the wrong reasons.


Ladies, if you’re one of the nice girls and you’re reading this: run in the opposite direction next time you see me. I’m not being self-deprecating here for humor’s sake. I’m being brutally honest for yours. If you need a reminder take a look at some past blogs where I tell it like it is in Salvage Title Lesbians and the Top 11 Reasons NOT to date me… believe me girls, I held back. I’m sure there are really 111 reasons to cross the street when you see me coming your way.

Run, don’t walk to your nearest exit if you spot this damaged dyke at your local lesbian hangout.

Tags: 3 Comments

So last night was a particularly painful evening and I have no body to blame but myself. An ex of mine that happens to be the only girl I have a hard time getting over called me out of the blue a few days ago. She wants to be friends … according to her, “Her life is just not the same without me in it.” And “Come on, don’t you remember how much fun we used to have? We could be like that again, just come over so we can talk.”

I wasn’t really sure if I had it in me. Did I have the fortitude to withstand whatever barrage of delusional rationalizations she would undoubtedly throw at me? Our history told me that if anything went even slightly sideways, I would be in for an evening of rehashing the past, but with her very special spin on it.

I was still sitting in my room talking on the phone with a woman I am currently “dating” when my ex drives up, unannounced and ready to whisk me away for an evening of wine and chit chat. Yea right.

But like a dumb ass, I allowed myself a bit of hope that this evening would result in some sort of rekindling of the friendship we once shared. So I told the girl I wanted to be with that instead of spending the night with her, I would actually be spending the evening with my ex. I’m sure she felt fine about that. Insert sarcasm here _________.

Fast forward an hour later in her apartment and a bottle of wine later. She’s prancing around in her newest lingerie asking me if I think her boyfriend will like it. I take another swig of that god awful wine, wince a bit and reply, “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Then I watch as she teeter totters on her five inch stripper shoes over to her dresser where she pulls out several more pieces of lingerie. She turns around holding them up to herself and says, “Look what I got you! I saw them and thought about how great you’d look in them! Here, try them on!”

More wine! More wine!

I just smile and say, “Oh wow, you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Just put it on, I’ve been dying to see how it looks on you.” She is undeterred by my shyness. She crosses the small room in about two strides and before I know it, she’s holding the little bustier up against me, to see how it would look. She’s touching me and we both realize it’s been a long time since we were that close.

She stops for a second and looks right at me. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence that we both knew could either end with us in bed, or just more uncomfortable silence.

I didn’t move. I just sat there and looked at her. She realized I had no intention of fucking her right then and there, so she stood up and started to put her clothes back on.

What followed was about two hours of her explaining to me how it was my fault that she cheated on me. How if I was the person I am now, then she would be a better girlfriend.

Excuse me???? WTF is wrong with this chick? I would have stormed out right after her little fashion show but she drove me there. I considered calling the girl I should have been with that night to come save me. But then I thought that asking the girl you’re currently interested in to come and get you at your ex-girlfriend’s house after you’ve spent an hour watching her throw herself at you and drinking that that might not be the best idea.

So I bit my tongue and listened to her explain how it was all my fault. I’m sure the rising cost of gas is my fault too. The only response she got from me was the occasional raised highbrow, a sarcastic laugh placed here and there and the sound of me pouring more wine.

I had finally had enough and asked her to take me home or I’d call someone for a ride. We drove back to my house in silent tension. When we finally got back I started to jump out of her car, but her hand on my thigh stopped me. She smiled apologetically and gave me a long hug. I didn’t say a word. I couldn’t or else I knew I’d start crying or screaming or both. So I just said goodnight and left.

At the top of my list of dumb things I’ve done and for some unknown reason continue to do: Give this chick chance after chance to fuck with my head. Why? Because I’m an idiot.

Tags: 1 Comment

I don’t know if this is a lesbian thing or not? Maybe it’s a lesser version of the U-haul syndrome but whatever it is, we need to find a cure.

When you go out on a date with a girl, you are not automatically “dating”. Likewise, when you are “dating” someone, you are not automatically “together” or “exclusive” or “girlfriends.”

The term “dating” implies that you are getting to know someone that may or may not later become an exclusive relationship. However at this early stage you are both still single.

Single means that you are indeed free to “date” other people and not get called a cheater, a liar or a tramp by either the first girl you went out on a date with or the last.

Let me explain this to those of you who only speak Lesbian and normal English is your second language.

When you tell a girl that you are not ready for a “relationship but you want to date her” what she hears is this, “You are free to date other women, kiss other women and do whatever you want with other women and not feel guilty because I don’t like you enough to make you my girlfriend.”

When she tells you that she “doesn’t want a commitment either” what she’s really saying is, “Whew! Thank goodness because I have a hot date later tonight and two more on the weekend.” Or she’s butt hurt and trying to convince both herself and you that she doesn’t want one either by throwing herself into the arms of the next girl she sees. So don’t get mad when either or both happens, you asked for it.

However something odd happens when two women are “dating.” No matter how many times both parties declare their need for independence and their mutual fear of commitment, the more time they spend together the more feelings get wrapped up in the mix.

Inevitably someone feels as if they have some sort of right to get hurt when the other one does exactly what she was told to do …. go out with other women and not get too emotionally attached to said commitment phobic lesbian.

Then you’re left walking this tightrope of what’s being said and what she really means. Trying to decipher the hidden meanings in her silence and reading between the lines should require some sort of PhD in linguistics or foreign languages.

Unfortunately, as of right now, no such formal education exists, though a girl can hope. So we’re stuck, squinting and trying to translate the squiggly communication we think we see hidden under the subtext. Often times we’re both wrong which leads to more misunderstandings and even more unneeded dyke drama.

But let me reiterate a simple yet sometimes thorny concept here: When you tell the girl that you are “dating” that you are still single …. by default that means she is also single. So no complaining when she plays by the same rules you do. Single means SINGLE until you both agree to change your myspace relationship status.

Tags: 2 Comments

I thought that when I started dating butch women that things would be easier, clearer in some ways. That perhaps some semblance of psuedo-gender roles might be in place, making it easier to navigate through the single scene if I knew who did what when.

But no such luck. Not only does it not clarify my role on the date it makes me so much more confused and left wondering, “What now?”

Apparently some butch or soft-butch women have very specific rules on who’s allowed to do what and when. Rules about who makes the first move, who pays, who opens doors. But what happens when the one who claims to be the aggressor isn’t that aggressive?

Leaving me, an alpha femme standing there waiting. Waiting for what? I’m not exactly sure anymore. But there’s something there that keeps me coming back for more. Maybe it’s the romantic idealization that I’ve created in my mind of what I thought the butch/femme dynamic would entail.  But reality and fantasy rarely meet in the harsh light of day.

Then at the same time a beautiful, aggressive femme walks into my life. Someone who easily steps into the role of suitor and knows all the right things to say and do. The contrast between these two women couldn’t be more stark. They are complete opposites in every way from one woman’s long luxurious locks to the other’s edgy, short haircut … which is part of what I love about both of them.

But the more I get to know both of these women the more I see what I already knew, but lost sight of for a moment. The outside package rarely tells the truth about what you’ll find once you unwrap it. Not that I’m complaining … I mean who doesn’t love a surprise?

Tags:   butch/femme dynamic4 Comments

Yesterday was my very first porn convention. I was lucky enough to be the date of my amazingly beautiful friend, Nica who runs Sweet Heart Video.

The adult entertainment industry is really a whole other world. As I carefully embark on what could be a new career field, working behind the scenes in “lesbian erotica” I feel as if I’ve just landed on this whole new planet and I’m the alien trying to fit in and figure everything out.

The world of porn is a strange industry to take part in. I’m sure plenty of people have plenty of judgmental things to say about it. I’m not here to defend anything …. it is what it is. There’s good and bad in everything, not just the sex industry so before any of you throw stones take a little internal inventory and see how honest you can be with yourself.

But I digress. My point being that this week made me think about a few things. One is that if I do end up working in this industry, in any capacity whatsoever … how will it affect my personal life? While I was on set, learning how to frame the shots of a particular scene I had this almost out of body experience for a moment. I mean, here I was standing not three feet away from two beautiful women having sex and my only concern was that they had their lines and watching to see how Nica kept them in frame.

I realized that it would be so easy to get even more jaded than I already am about sex. Believe me that’s not an easy thing to accomplish. Since I’m about as jaded as they come. But still, I suppose anythings possible.

Then I found myself doing something I’ve done my whole life. Compartmentalizing things. It’s not that hard. All you do is you find something that means something to you, in this case it was the idea of a loving, romantic relationship someday and I put it in a box and locked it safely away for later. Sort of like filing papers. Then you turn your attention back to the task at hand.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that unlike some people who think that working in the porn industry might hurt my personal relationships, I see it the other way around. To me, it just makes me appreciate true intimacy so much more than I did before. So whenever I find that girl, I know exactly where I filed away that special box and I’ll be happy to unlock it for the right woman. But till then, it’s safe and sound. Hidden away from all the, “Lights! Camera! Action!”

Tags:   lesbian porn1 Comment

So as some of you may know working as a freelance writer has it’s ups and downs. Even when you sell an article it’s weeks before you see a dime on all your hard work. There are other ways to whore my art out … copywriting, ghostwriting, you get the point.  All of which I do. But still who couldn’t use a little extra money these days with gas prices skyrocketing and no end in sight?

Enter lesbian porn. Yep, you heard me … lesbian porn. My friend Nica, who I’ve already blogged about has been kind enough to offer me a job. Before you get too excited, I’ll be working behind the scenes, maybe even behind the camera (if I’m really lucky) but you will probably never see me.

So to say that I look forward to my new job would be the understatement of the year! I start this Thursday!!! Can you say, lucky lesbian?

Tags:   adult industry · lesbian porn5 Comments

It can be depressing being a lesbian. Wait, not just depressing but down right discouraging. I could go on and on about how there aren’t enough single, attractive lesbians running around but boo fucking hoo. Who hasn’t heard that a million times?

I’ve been feeling especially energetic lately (my euphemism for something a bit more tawdry) so I’ve been going out a lot lately. Tonight however was Sunday night. Not the best night to go trolling for a piece of pie. Yes I said trolling and yes I called it pie. But out of sheer boredom and the inability to stay in my house a moment longer I took off to this little hole in the wall dyke bar, Broadway. Or as Maggie referred  to it, “Broadway is where old lesbians go to die.” Well this was my first time there and as usual, Maggie was uncomfortably correct.

I parked down the street so that I could casually stroll by and check it out. As I approached I saw two women smoking outside. They obviously saw me right away and started whispering to one another. Getting a high school flash back I acted like I wasn’t going there and veered left to the coffee shop across the street. But after a quick perusal of the goods the Library had to offer, I made a quick u-turn and headed back to Broadway.

Once I made my way through what was now about six intoxicated and smoking lesbians acting as impromptu gate keepers I meandered inside to see what this joint had to offer.

What it had to offer was a pool table where a gay man and a sunburned butch woman were playing. A tiny bar with a mix of straight-looking-truck-driver-type-old-men and even older truck-driver looking women. Oh and there was a tranny making out with a man who I am not entirely sure realized he was kissing another man. I didn’t even make it halfway down the bar when my tight turning radius came in handy and I made another U-eey and got the hell out of there.

On my way out a spotted a cute femme smoking on the side of the bar. I smiled at her but kept walking. She was cute but no fireworks. The fact that I didn’t feel the urge to even look back over my shoulder told me it wasn’t worth it.

I sat in my car a few moments looking at the dead streets of Long Beach and wishing I hadn’t wasted my gas on the drive to the graveyard. So I headed home, lady blue balls and all and waiting on my myspace page is a comment from Maggie that read: “Let me know what you uncover at the graveyard, also known as Broadway.” …. Um, yea. That about sums it up.

Tags:   club broadway · lesbians · long beach1 Comment

From my experiences in the straight world and the lesbian world I’ve noticed something diametrically opposed to one another. Well, at least for myself. When I was dating boys, I thought the fewer men I was with the better. I really kept my numbers low and I was very proud of that fact.

However in the lesbian world, at least the world I know … the more women you bed, the better. As a woman dating, kissing, sleeping with other women, there’s no guilt, no stigma, no bad reputation to be avoided. Unlike in the straight world, the lesbian culture seems to embrace sluttiness. Except like our male counter parts we’re allowed to take on the “player” title and let the “slut” label fall by the wayside. Even when somebody calls you a slut, it’s not really an insult. But more a badge of honor.

Why is this? Maybe because when the fear of pregnancy and the worry of birth control is gone, a lot of the stigma attached to sex disappears as well. Perhaps it’s the fact that the risk of STD’s is significantly lower among lesbians. Could it be that without the fear of being judged by men, we let our guards down and allow ourselves to indulge in our base nature more openly than our straight girl counter parts?

Notice I said “openly” not “freely.” There are plenty of straight women that sleep around and there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. But my point is that for the most part, they keep their real numbers on the down low, in fear of others thinking negatively of them. But as a lesbian I rarely feel as if I’ll be looked down on by anyone, regardless of how many notches I carve into my bedpost.

Seriously, no one cares how many women another woman sleeps with. Except maybe the woman you’re currently sleeping with. But straight men think it’s awesome and your gay and lesbian friends just high five you over vodkas … OK, only Amber high fives me, but you get my point. Even straight women don’t seem to care one way or the other. Because they either a) Are too uncomfortable to even ask b) If they do ask, are secretly excited by anything you do tell them or c) Are just hoping to be next on that list.

So overall, this is how I see it: Lesbian promiscuity earns you a player card. Straight girl promiscuity just earns you a bad reputation among hypocritical men and jealous women.

So if you want to act like a slut, be a lesbian.

Tags:   lesbian · Promiscuity · slut5 Comments

When I’m speaking of women that make good friends, I’m talking about to other women.  I’ve touched on this topic before in my blog about lesbians making awesome friends. But a new friend of mine inspired me to add to the list.

Apparently, porn stars also make great friends. My friend Nica is in the adult industry. She writes, directs and stars in erotic films that cater to the female audience.

From the moment we met there was this amazing connection. I can only liken it to when you’re a little girl and you get a new best friend. You can talk all day and night about anything or nothing at all. You have instant trust in one another and it’s just plain old fun to hang out together. Well, it’s that fun with Nica … except instead of being two little girls in grade school, she’s a porn star and I’m a blogging lesbian. Can you see the potential trouble we could get into? Well we can and we look forward to every moment of it.

But I was thinking about how some people might judge her on what she does for a living and how inaccurate those presuppositions would be. Because the more I get to know her the more I see what an amazingly honest, up-front, genuine and kind person she is. I think that maybe, because of what she does for a living (which is fucking cool) she lives her private life in such a way that she’s almost above reproach. By that I mean, she’s not the type of woman to stab another woman in the back. If she’s your friend, than you’re pretty lucky.

Anyways, I could go on and on about how great I think she is, but then everyone at our gym will think I’m sleeping with her … already.

Tags:   best friends · lesbian bloggers · lesbian porn · porn stars1 Comment

I used to lament about the lack of lesbians, or more accurately, my lack of gaydar which made it seem as if there were only six lesbians in the South Bay and I already knew them. But lately everywhere I go I’m noticing more and more gay girls.

It could be that it’s so trendy to be bi or gay, that a lot more women are just embracing the freedom to flirt with one another. Not to say that most of them would ever follow through but a little harmless flirting with a MILF at the gym never hurt anyone’s ego.

But I recently found myself at the Sheriff’s department (no fault of my own, I was simply defending myself) and before I left a lovely lady Sheriff slipped me her card with her cell phone, home phone and email on the back. Ummmmm ….. I may be wrong but she was setting off my gaydar so loudly I thought I’d go deaf!

Then earlier today I was in 7-11 and my favorite dykey clerk gave me a free lottery ticket and winked at me!!! WTF??? Seriously. Maybe it’s the heat, it brings all the lesbians out from under wherever we’ve been hiding, to show off our plaid cargo shorts and wife beaters.

It occurs to me as I’m writing this that maybe it’s not that everyone’s gay all of a sudden. But maybe I’m finally putting off the come-hither-I’m a lesbian-vibe … God I hope so.
Either way it seems that this summer is off to a fabulous start!

Pssst … I see gay girls.

Tags:   gay girls · gaydar · lesbians2 Comments

I would say that I am a femme/top. Whoa. What? Is that possible? Hell yea it’s possible. Normally this is not a problem, especially when two femmes are dating. I mean, someone’s got to bring the strap-on! Or even sans strap-on, someone’s got to be the aggressor. That person is usually me. Or at least it used to be.

Apparently butch women are not big fans of aggressive femmes wielding dildos and handcuffs. Hahaha …. But seriously, I’ve been thinking about this. What’s an aggressive femme to do when she’s dating a butch who has some pretty strict rules on how the game is played in and outside of the bedroom?

Sure, I love being treated like I’m the only girl on the date. It’s wonderful having someone open the car door for you, court you like you’re in an old movie, be chivalrous and all that good stuff that comes with dating butch women. I love it.

But … and there’s always a but: I’m not what they call a high femme. A high femme for those of you who don’t know, is a woman who is so feminine she may even identify as straight, because all her relationships follow usual gender roles. She plays the woman and gets fucked but never fucks. While her partner will always be a stone butch who fucks her brains out, but will never disrobe or allow herself to be fucked by her girlfriend. So while this may be confusing to some, others will know what I’m talking about.

While I may be classified under the femme label, I am in no way a high femme. I like to be the aggressor sometimes, or more than sometimes if I’m telling the truth. But when dating butch women, I can’t be. So I find myself in a dilemma: How to reconcile the more aggressive parts of my personality with my desire to date butch women?

I don’t want to change who I am for anyone else and I won’t. Nor do I want to restrict who I date to femmes who appreciate my ability to take control of a situation. Because truth be told, other femmes just don’t catch my eye lately.

While I am more than happy to play the submissive role (strictly in the bedroom) once in a while, I still want to be able to be myself and switch it up sometimes. But I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I don’t.

Hence I find that being a femme/top with switch-hitter capabilities isn’t as easy as it sounds.

Tags:   bottom · butch · femme · high femme · stone butch · top3 Comments

If there’s one thing that irks me, it’s when people who are already aware that I identify as an out lesbian think they have the right to contradict that fact. Based on what? The fact that they a) barely know me b) I’ve been in serious relationships with men in the past c) they don’t think I’ve been gay long enough to be considered a “real lesbian” or d) think I must at least be bi, if for no other reason than I look straight.

Huh, I love that logic. NOT.

Well not that it’s really anyone’s business but since I’ve got nothing to hide and everything to gain by making a few points clear, here I go.

Anyone that really gets to know me will come to terms with the fact that yes, I am indeed a lesbian. By lesbian I mean that I am not attracted to men. I do not want to date them, marry them or have their babies. When a hot man walks by, I can objectively admit that there goes a fine specimen of the male species. But that in no way implies that I get a little tingle from it. Beauty is beauty and I can appreciate it wherever I find it.

Yes, I was in a couple serious relationships with men in the past. But for many reasons and not the least of which, the fact that I later realized I was gay, it never went to the alter. I got close a few times, too close in fact. But something inside me just never let me go through with it. I realize that it sounds naive to not have realized sooner in life, but what can I say? I thought I was bisexual. But later I realized that being able to have sex with a man and enjoy it has nothing to do with who you want to spend your life with. I have found that I enjoy dating, relationships and yes, even sex, more with women than with men. I’m not saying boys are yucky. I’m just saying I prefer women so much so that I’ve excluded men from the realm of my dating possibilities.

Yet for some reason many people will never believe that I’m a lesbian because I can admit that sex with certain men didn’t suck. I have no intention of ever doing that again, but I also refuse to have any regrets. Everything I’ve gone through up to now has made me the woman I am today. Because of all the crap, heartache, confusion and denial I’ve fought my way through, I’ve grown into a woman who’s 100% sure of what I want, what I can offer and what I can and can not put up with. I think there’s a lot to be said for self-awareness and maturity. So anyone who can’t get past my past is losing out. Everyone has a history. I’m just honest about mine.

For the people who don’t think I’ve been gay long enough to be a real lesbian: Well first of all, how long did you have to be straight before you got your membership card?

I’ve been with women for 7 years now. Yes, there were a few stray men that snuck in there several years back. But they didn’t last because I had girls on the brain. Literally. So if we do the math, I’ve dated men for 7 years and women for 7 years. With a 2 year overlap in the beginning there.

But maybe the real question should be how many of each have you been with? Well, I don’t boink and tell but I will say this; the number of lovely ladies I’ve had the pleasure of, FAR outweighs the few men I’ve known on an intimate level … and when I say far outweighs, I mean it doesn’t even compare. So if it were strictly a numbers game, anyone who knew my numbers would never doubt for a second how very gay I am.

Finally, I must be bi because of my past and because I look so effin’ straight. Well, I’ve already admitted to my history with boys. But you know, there aren’t a whole lot of gold star lesbians out there. More power to them but in reality it took most of us a few trials and errors to figure this whole thing out. So I know I’m not alone. I know for a fact that I am not the only lesbian thats slept with a man. Even though most lesbians like to get on their hypocritical high horse and try to make me feel like I am, I’m not and they know it.

As for me looking straight …. well, I’m not going to chop all my hair off and get a bunch of tattoos or any other lame stereotype just to make it easier to point me out in a lesbian line-up. By the way the word for a gay girl that looks straight is “femme.”

Another thing is that yes, in some ways I chose to be a lesbian. I could have chosen to live a lie and married a man. Lived an unfulfilled life and probably committed suicide before I was forty. But I didn’t. I came out, to myself then to my family and now to anyone that wants to know. What astonishes me is when people feel the need to push me, at least partially back into the closet by trying to make me say that I’m bi.

There was a very long time when I held onto that label because I thought it was accurate. But as time went on that label stopped being appropriate. So I would hope that someday, people stop trying to push that title on me. I don’t want it. It’s not mine. Give it to the next girl who may or may not be on her way out of the closet. But it served it’s purpose for me, as a transitional term. But having surpassed that stage in my evolvement, I no longer feel that it has any place in my arsenal of adjectives used to describe myself.

To sum it up in the most simple terms possible and to reiterate to the point that I feel like I’m beating a dead horse: I am as gay as the day is long. My past does not define me.

Dude. I kiss girls! ONLY.

Tags:   bi · bisexual · coming out of the closet · gay · in the closet · lesbian6 Comments

Desire is something that should be almost irresistible. When you meet someone that you just have to have, you just have to touch, to kiss, to be with … it should be almost painful to abstain from any of those things.

But what about when you meet someone who makes you laugh, makes you feel comfortable and makes you sort of want to make out with them? I mean it seems like the next logical step. For all intents and purposes you should be all over each other. But for some unknown reason, you’re not. She’s in her seat and you’re in yours. Neither one of you groping the other or trying some acrobatic sex moves while driving around town. Nope. You’re just driving.

But what the hell went wrong? On the phone it’s all hot and heavy and don’t even get me started on the X rated text messages. If your real dates were as hot as your text dating, you’d be fucking each others brains out by now. But for some reason when you’re face to face, all that fire just sort of fizzles to an awkward friendship that you both hoped would be more.

But now you’re a little more than friends, but not quite dating either. You’re in this no-man’s land, the purgatory of sexual tension where dates go to die. You’re both looking for a way out but there doesn’t seem to be any. Heaven would be that all of a sudden you look at each other and want to rip each other’s clothes off … and then actually follow through on it. Hell is where you say you’re just going to be friends and then never really speak again. But instead you’re stuck in purgatory where you can’t kiss each other, but feel guilty if you kiss someone else. Ughhh!!!!!

This doesn’t really have a moral lesson attached. It’s just a rant on a not-so-hypothetical, theoretical situation…. how’s that for a non-committal confession? Hahaha … well, you should know me by now. Any thoughts? Not that I’m going to actually take any sound advice because that would be too easy.

But I do have a question: Is there a window of time where if you pass it, you automatically slip into platonic-ville? Or is the window for nookie never really closed?

Tags:   · dating · friends with benefits · lesbian dating · nookie · purgatory12 Comments

Today a straight friend of mine said to me, “Why do you talk about being gay all the time? It’s not like I run around all day talking about how straight I am.”

I wasn’t sure what she meant so I questioned her and her response was that she thought I talked a lot about gay culture, dating women, my lesbian friends …. in other words, my life.

All I could say to her was, “Bull crap you don’t talk about being straight all day. Every time you talk about your boyfriend, or your wedding or almost anything that has to do with your social life you’re referencing a straight lifestyle. The only reason you don’t have to preface it with a “straight label” is because we live in a straight society. Gays on the other hand are part of a sub-culture that exists alongside but in many ways, separate from mainstream culture. Of course I talk about gay culture, not only is it my reality, my job and my social circle it also happens to be very exciting political times for the gay community with gay marriage being legalized. Need I go on?”

Well apparently I did because she just didn’t get it. She then had the nerve to insinuate the possibility that I wasn’t really gay, since I felt the need to talk about it all the time. Well that sort of ticked me off. Because not only did she not get any of my previous points she was now accusing me of over-compensating in some weird way. I can’t say I totally got her argument on this point. But I did say to her that one reason I read, research and discuss particular phenomena I witness within the lesbian community may be because I’m smart enough to see that there’s something to learn from it.

The more she talked the more I realized that anytime I opened my mouth, to her all she heard was, “So I’m gay and I like gay girls and my friends are all gay. The world should be gay. Don’t you wish you were gay? Blah blah gay.” The reason for this is not because I use the word gay every five minutes, because I don’t. But she knows what my lifestyle is and so in her head, every time I spoke about anything it was colored by the rainbow colored glasses she sees me through.

She asked me if all my friends talk about “being gay” as much as I do. I thought about it for a moment and you know what? We do. We joke, compare, ridicule, contemplate, pontificate and philosophize about all things gay.

But why? Maybe because during the day most of us work in a professional setting where our sexuality is not something to write a company memo about. Maybe we’re surrounded by breeders all week long and when we’re together it’s like taking off your work clothes and kicking back in your comfy pj’s … we just get to be our happy, gay, sarcastic selves. I don’t know what the answer is, but yes, as a group a lot of conversations may have a gay tinge.

But if we were to deconstruct an average conversation between a group of straight girlfriends, I’m sure that their dialogue would be as hetero-centric as our homo-centric conversations seem to an outsider. It’s natural that we talk about things that affect our lives. What wouldn’t be natural would be if on any Friday night, you overheard Maggie, Amber, Jeanine, Jamie, Tye, Sam and myself discussing the hot guys at the end of the bar, pregnancy tests after a drunken night or the best place to get fake nails.

Maybe I do talk about gay issues a lot. But I’m not going to apologize for being proud of who I am, proud of who my friends are and proud of the progress we’re making as a whole. These are amazing times we’re living in and it would be pretty pathetic if I was too worried about what others thought to fully embrace it. So in closing I have this to say to my friend, “Eh, bite me. I’ve had to listen to your man problems for 15 years. This is your chance to return the favor.”

Tags: 4 Comments

Earlier today I was shopping at Targay when my friend Amber sent me a text that read: I have something for you to blog about! When she’s right she’s right … and this is the topic that was on her mind.

We all know one, or ten … a straight chick that loudly proclaims she’ll just “go gay” when she’s finally tired of being treated like crap by men. I don’t know about you, but that sounds like an insult to me. Why on earth would I want every other man’s sloppy seconds or a woman that thinks I’m her last resort?

Granted, there are lots of women that started off dating men thanks to social norms and just the plain old coming out process. But when an obvious, died in the wool straight girl claims she’ll turn into a lesbian as a last resort is really just saying one of several things:

1. “I’m such a huge whore, I’m bound to run out of men soon. So when that day comes I guess I’ll have to move on to women.”

2. “Someday I’m going to grow a backbone and not want to be treated like a second class citizen but not today.”

3. “I’m never really going to go gay, but if you get me drunk enough I’ll probably sleep with you.”

I’m in agreement with Amber that it’s just plain silly for straight chicks to threaten to go gay. Who are they trying to scare? Their boyfriends? Who after hearing that empty promise are already lost in a daydream that involves two women and their sorry asses.

Or are they trying to scare us? “If some man doesn’t hurry up and marry me, I’ll be your problem soon!” Boo on that. The men can keep them.

Or are they giving themselves a gut check? Maybe saying it out loud lets them pretend that they’re dipping their toes in the lesbian wading pool, without any real consequences either way. Their straight girl version of playing chicken with a lesbian.

Well, either way I have this to say to any heterosexual woman who uses the possibility of “going gay” as nothing more than a lack luster attempt at shock value: Quit it. It’s old and played out, just like you. I don’t want your skanky ass that’s slept with more men than you can count. I don’t want to be your experiment, the spice in your dull marriage or your first girl-on-girl experience. Let the men deal with you because I’ve got plenty of dyke drama on my own without having to worry about angry boyfriends. So good luck to you and your pseudo-sexual confusion.

Tags:   · gay girls · go gay · lesbians · straight girls1 Comment

I was literally floored yesterday when on my way home from the gym I saw that gas had reached $4.19 a gallon for super unleaded. Which really hurts me, since I drive an old Caddy that can only handle the very best, i.e. super duper unleaded.What’s a girl to do when she needs to get around town but can no longer allow myself to be bled dry by the oil companies. So I took a look at all my options, along with the pros and cons of each. Here’s a look at my logic:

Keep driving the caddy and spend about $200 a month in gas. Ouch!

Ride my bike the 7 miles each way to the gym and try not to die in LA traffic that is notoriously bike-unfriendly. Then muster up the energy to work out for 2 hours straight before my 7 mile ride home. Ummm …. I would love to say I’m in that good of shape, but I might be lying.

Skateboard the 7 miles each way with a ginormous gym bag slung over my shoulder, filled with shin guards, boxing gloves and various other fight gear that includes my makeup bag with 4 different shades of lipstick. The idea of trying to stay on my board with such a huge bag has it’s possible issues, not to mention going up hill the last portion of my trek to the gym. If 7 miles seems like a long ways on my bike it’s seems like 17 on a skateboard.

I could get a motorcycle. Except for this nagging fear I’ve had my whole life of motorcycles. So xnay on the motorcycl-ay.

Then there’s the bus. Um, no.

Last but not least there’s the ever so retro-chic option of a Vespa. Or a Vespa-like moped. Wait a second, I think we have a winner! At under $2,000 for a brand new little “vintage” moped that looks like it belongs on the streets of Milan I’m starting to feel the wind in my helmet hair. Seriously, at 50 MPG it will literally cut my gas spending from $200/month to a mere $20 a month tops! Helllllllooooo!!!! Does anyone else see the genius in this move?

I even took a little poll among my friends as to whether or not riding around town on a Vespa would be too dorky or just too fun. They all agreed it was dorky enough to be cool in a retro-chic way. So there you go, I’m literally shopping as we speak for the perfect little Vespa-like moped … and matching helmet. (Don’t worry Maggie, I wouldn’t embarrass the Lipstick Mafia by not matching!)

So next time you see a chick riding around town on a pearly pink scooter, wave at me!

Tags:   dykes on bikes · mopeds · scooters · Vespas2 Comments

As I was walking around Pride this past weekend I kept hearing snippets of conversations from various groups of women but they all sounded remarkably like this, “Why are lesbians so unattractive?”

After hearing this opinion voiced by more than just my group of judgmental friends I took a better look. My eyes were met with a sea of over-weight, sun burned, mullet wearing lesbians roaming around in packs looking for easy prey, hopefully made easier by the abundant alcohol and beer goggles.

Now don’t get me wrong, there are some hot lesbians out there. But you have to admit it, they’re sort of outnumbered 100 to 1. I just don’t get it!  Why is a fit, attractive lesbian as easy to find as a pink unicorn? I’m not talking about butch/femme crap here. I’m saying across the board, from the ladies that showed up for Pride this weekend, hot dykes were underrepresented … except at the HRC booth.

I wonder why so many lesbians feel like they can let themselves go? Is it some sort of rebellion against mainstream society or just plain laziness? Whatever the reason it needs to stop. I’m tired of most of the hot chicks being bi or *gasp* straight.

There’s really NO excuse. I mean really, look at the situation. We don’t have any kids (usually), so we can’t blame pregnancy for the extra poundage. We don’t have men in our lives making us miserable, so we can’t blame them. All we have is ourselves and every freakin’ reason to take excellent care of ourselves and represent our culture to the rest of the world in the best possible light. So come on ladies, really? Put down the beer and go for a walk.

…. and people wonder why I date so many straight chicks.

Tags:   long beach pride · ugly lesbians7 Comments

Answer these questions as honestly as possible and email them to me if you want me to consider you for the highly drama wrought position of becoming my future ex-girlfriend.

Duties will entail a hot and heavy start to what will seem like a whirlwind romance. But will quickly decline to nothing but a flat fizzle when I abruptly stop taking your calls. Don’t consider that an insult, recognize it for the achievement that it is and that at that point in time you will have actually become my ex-girlfriend. No longer worrying about when and if you will ever get the promotion, but secure in the fact that you accomplished the goal you set out for yourself when you answered this bizarre and half joking application.

Let me say that there are no wrong answers, only wrong applicants. So please feel free to be yourself and if that self is a self-absorbed ass, it might just win you some bonus points. But you didn’t hear that from me.

Shall we begin?

How do you identify?
Straight?
Bi?
Gay?

How out are you?

What label do you feel best suits you? Feel free to combine several or make up your own: high femme, lipstick femme, femme, stone butch, butch, soft butch, ChapStick lesbian?

What’s the highest level of education you’ve completed and in what area of expertise?

Do you love what you do for a living? Or does it pay well enough that it doesn’t matter?

Do you kiss on the first date?

Do you fuck on the first coffee date?

Are you a top? A bottom? Or a switch hitter?

What sports do you play? Not used to play ten years ago, but currently enjoy on a regular basis?

If you were stranded on a deserted island, name two books and two sex toys you couldn’t live without.

On a scale from 1 to 10, rate yourself in the following areas:
Physical appearance
Fitness
Mental stability
Stalker tendencies
Your ability to make a girl come

Can you handle competition from other women, trying to steal your girl?

Do you have any ex-girlfriends that are on your myspace or are known to stalk your myspace?

Last but not least, send me a photo or a link to your myspace page. If you do not include a photo than I expect a brilliant letter showcasing your charm and wit to the point that I might not care if you’re not so hot. But if you’re not that bright, you better be a stunner.

Good luck and God speed.

Tags: No Comments.

Hey ladies, as all of you local girls already know it’s Long Beach Pride this weekend! Thank gawd, since I am in serious need of some insane debauchery and new, embarrassing pics of my crew getting drunk and lucky. OK, I don’t need pics of them getting lucky, but a few pics of the lucky ladies before hand is always fun fodder for later.

I’ll be volunteering at the HRC booth at some point so come by and say hi. But the real fun will probably be Sunday night at Club Sauvage , where you can find me with my posse, VIP status as always.

So be sure to come out to the club, come by say hi and buy me a drink … or four.

For more info on Club Sauvage go to their MySpace page. It’s definitely the hottest lesbian club in Long Beach.

Tags:   club sauvage · long beach pride · myspaceNo Comments.

Tonight at our weekly “club” meeting I was immersed in a deep conversation with my girlfriends about why lesbians seem to be able to form closer, more truthful friendships with one another than our straight counterparts.

To avoid the inevitable repercussions of accidentally misquoting any of my friends I will stick strictly to my own opinions in this blog. This is actually a topic I’ve revolved over in my head more than a few times. I thought it was interesting that my friends had also had similar musings. So from my own stand point this is what I have to say on the subject.

Lesbians seem to be able to be better friends to each other than your average group of straight females because we aren’t driven by the same biological urges that some would argue, unconsciously drive most people. A straight woman, for all intent and purposes has a biological urge to procreate. Following this argument this would mean that she is looking for the best mate that meets a specific criteria. Back in the day this was slightly different than current day situations dictate.

A woman would want to find a man with good genes that would be most likely to result in viable offspring, capable of surviving the harsh environment it would be born into. But considering today, most children are born into a life of air conditioning and X box, the criteria for a mate has adjusted. So now, instead of the biggest, strongest male, many women are looking for the biggest wallet. In a day and age where money is power, the size of a man’s wallet has become more important than the size of his muscle. … um … his biceps.

So it goes to follow that straight women are in constant competition with one another for the attention of the male species.

But if you take men out of the equation, women are left with a sort of Amazonian society existing within and slightly sub rosa along side main stream, straight society. Now within lesbian culture all the normal roles are still being filled … but by women. Now it’s not about competing with each other for the best sperm donor or biggest alimony check. It’s about each of us becoming completely independent women.

It becomes a totally different game when you don’t have the idea of Prince Charming to fall back on. It’s totally all about you and what you bring to the table. It’s not about who you marry or what pre-school you get your kids into. It’s about you making your mark on this world. Then it’s about the woman on your arm or in your bed. But that’s secondary to paying your bills. Because there isn’t some man to lean on. It’s all on you and what you can achieve this time around.

I can’t speak for any one else. But I can say this: I have found a group of girlfriends that push each to be better and do better in every aspect of our lives. There is no such thing as backstabbing or competition among us. Well … maybe a little competition but only in the healthiest way possible. By that I mean when you see all your friends kicking ass in their chosen career paths, it motivates you to break out of old limiting patterns and do whatever you have to do to make sure you’re worthy of their time and friendship. So in that way, the competitive spirit that seems to part of the female DNA works to our advantage.

Some of you might ask about dating. Well that’s pretty easy in our group. We don’t have the same taste in women, AT ALL. Which is ironic since on the surface, we all resemble each other in a lot of ways.

But in a more general way I think that lesbian women can form a closer friendship with each other regardless of who they’re attracted too, because of the way we automatically relate to other women.

When a straight chick sees or meets another woman, she gets her feathers up right away. Comparing herself to the other girl from head to toe. Everything from what her shoes cost to how much she weighs. So even if both girls end up being nice and maybe even friends, that initial contact was filled with passive aggression and a competitive spirit.

But when a gay girl sees another girl the first thought isn’t. “How do I measure up to her?” it’s more like, “Do I want to fuck her?” … So you see, the initial contact between a gay girl and any other woman, gay or straight is more like a man and a woman meeting. Less competition, more flirting. Even if there’s zero physical attraction, as a gay woman I always look at any girl I meet as a possible conquest. So of course I’m going to be a little nicer until I decide what I want to do with her.

To sum it up I think that lesbians relate to other women so fundamentally different than straight women, that we area able to form amazing friendships that anyone on the outside looking in can hardly fathom. Huh … lucky me … and maybe lucky you.

Tags:   friendship · lesbians2 Comments

Women are the most delicious thing on this planet. I just can’t tell you how proud I am to be an out lesbian in LA.

Since I’ve come out, not just to my friends and family, but to myself I’ve really struggled with my place in this world. As I’m sure most if not all LGBT people do. I’d be lying if I said that the internal struggle was a thing of the past and that I’m totally sure of who I am in every aspect of my being. I think that’s a life time process of growing and evolving. But within the constraints of this single blog I’m referring to my identity as a lesbian woman living in Los Angeles.

I mention my location because it seems to me that your environment plays a rather large role in who you become and how you see yourself. Not wanting to get into a nature vs. nurture argument with anyone, I’m simply saying that growing up in a liberal, gay friendly town where it’s practically hip to be gay is probably a lot easier than growing up in a small town in Utah. Where in recent years a gay owned bookstore was burned to the ground and it’s owners were told to get out of town. So living in Los Angeles has it’s perks for sure. But even under the dim lights of gay and lesbian bars across LA, everyone has their own story.

One thing that bothers me on almost a daily basis is my inability to set off anyone’s gaydar. I mean literally, I can be at a lesbian bar, with all my lesbian friends and if by some miracle someone actually talks to me, it’s usually the straight man who brought his bi-curious wife out for a night of “let’s trick a lesbian into a threesome.” Once every million years or so a girl will come up and talk to me and even then she’ll eventually say, “So, you’re bi right?”

What? No! I’m not bi. I’m not straight. I don’t need every bouncer at every gay bar I go to look at me and say, “Um you know it’s a lesbian bar right?” No kidding? Really? Because I thought I came out on a Wednesday night because that’s when all the hot men with real dicks came out to play! What the hell???

Everyone always complains about being stereotyped and labeled. But I’ll admit that I wish I was a little more “stereotypical” or whatever the politically incorrect word would be for what I’m trying to say. Basically, I wish I looked gayer. Yes, I said it, GAYER.

I realize that a lot of lipstick femme girls don’t look gay. But a lot of them also have visible tattoos or body piercings or they just have something that sets them apart in some way. Maybe it’s just an attitude that shines through. I really don’t know.

I’m proud to be gay. I’m proud of who I am and what I stand for. But I just wish that what was on the inside was a bit easier to detect on the outside. It’s a bit discouraging when you walk down the street and people constantly think you’re something other than you are. I guess I don’t have any right to complain, it’s not like people are throwing rocks at me. The point I’m trying to make is that it’s hard no matter who you are or what you look like. So never assume that this girl or that girl has it made in the shade. She might just be sitting under there because no one will talk to her …  because she looks so damn straight.

Tags: 9 Comments

Since I’ve started Card Carrying Lesbian I’ve been surprised and a little hurt when a friend here or there would confide something in me and then right away, almost out of fright beg, “Oh gawd, please don’t blog about this!!!”

Well I wanted to set the record straight about what I consider off limits. Consider this my code of ethics for blogging:

• I will never write about, exploit or expose any of my friends personal lives. At all. Period.

• I will never disclose the true identity behind people’s pseudonyms to others unless I have permission from said person. So feel free to comment, secure in your anonymity.

• Whatever you tell me about your personal life will stay private. Unless you specifically tell me or ask me to write about it.

What will I blog about?

• Well of course during the course of a fun evening out with my girls, someone is bound to say something that starts the wheels turning and the next thing you know, I have a topic to write about. But getting a general topic from conversation is very different from straight up publishing the lives of my friends. I will never ever do that. Unless they ask me too … and then it better be good.

• I will write about my own past but I will always change the names and a few identifying markers to help insure the person stays anonymous.

• I may blog about my own sex life, disastrous dates, jerky things I do, or embarrassing moments. But once again, I will not ever publicly name any of the people involved in my shenanigans.

So if you know me in real life … please rest assured: Your secrets are safe with me … as they always have been and always will be.

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Since butch women are my current obsession, so to speak I’ve been thinking about the differences between butch and femme. What those labels imply, what it means to be either or both or neither in many cases. I’ve heard from a lot of women on both sides of the table and I have to tell you that I feel as if I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. This is a seemingly endless topic with offshoots that lead to unexpected places to ponder, discuss and in some cases cause oneself to totally rethink certain preconceived notions.

It’s impossible to blog just once on this topic. So I guess I’ll just take it one little step at a time.

Earlier today my mother, bless her heart, who is trying with all her might to be the most supportive and cool mom any dyke could ask for was questioning me about the topic on hand. The discussion got to a point where I heard myself saying, “From my own experience the women I know that identify as butch are actually the softest, most gentle women I know in a lot of ways. While on the other hand, the femme looking ones, myself included have a very hard side to our personalities.”

Which made me wonder about this and then I read a few emails and comments left by several butch women. They all expressed a similar feeling of just being born that way, not feeling as if they had too much choice in the matter. This was just the way they are, they didn’t know why and it hurts them that others sometimes discriminate against them for it.

It dawned on me that maybe the softness, for lack of a better word I see in the butch women I know comes from the fact that they live their lives in a very vulnerable state. They don’t really blend in, they either can’t or don’t hide who or what they are and they should never be made to feel that they should. But what I’m saying is that they just sort of put themselves out there. For better or worse, they’re more vulnerable in some ways than a femme.

Here, let me try to illustrate my point. As a femme woman myself I have grown up very aware of the affect my body and sexuality has on men. I grew up well aware that beautiful women get by easier in this world. So I played the game with the best of them. I learned how to feel comfortable with that and I think a lot of women do.

It’s almost like a femme woman gets up in the morning and she puts on makeup/warpaint. Like a woman preparing for war she puts on her armor/wonder bra. She dresses in whichever way will benefit her and throw her opponent off his game a bit. Maybe that means high heels, sexy business suits or whatever. But she knows there’s a game to play and even if she doesn’t like it, she’s still in the game the minute she walks out of her front door. So she dons her public persona …. a feminine ideal, carefully calculated to help her navigate her way through a male dominated world. If we can’t hide our feminine wiles, we might as well use them when it suits us.

Looking at myself and my friends I can see that we all have a very definite image we present to the world. While we are very feminine and attractive we like to think of ourselves as cold hearted and maybe even ruthless when necessary. It’s almost as if the softer a woman looks, the harder she’s become along the way.

A beautiful woman doesn’t go through life without constant sexual harassment coupled with being underestimated on a daily basis. This causes callouses of sorts that result in a very dangerous product: A beautiful woman that’s capable of anything to get what she wants.

So while femme women maybe able to hide parts of themselves behind the makeup and pretty clothes. Our butch counterparts could be seen as more exposed for who they really are. Femmes are able to “pass” in straight society, hardly having to face any prejudice from ignorant strangers. While perhaps other women do have to endure injustice and in some cases physical harm for what they look like.

All I’m saying is that whatever this whole “Butch/Femme” thing is, whether it’s about looks, style, gender or roles … it doesn’t really matter because when you get to the heart of it, what you’ll really find is the heart of a woman.

In my humble opinion the hearts of femmes may be harder than you might think so be careful of lip gloss wielding women, we’re more trouble than you might expect.

Tags: 6 Comments

What I’ve noticed when I talk to most lesbians is that they have a strong opinion on butch women. Maybe it’s just because we’re in LA, where the cultural idea of femininity is not only abundant, it’s extreme. If you doubt what I’m saying just look around at all the silicone walking around on two toothpicks and you’ll see my point.

But as lesbian women shouldn’t we be able to see beyond the standards that pop culture sets out for us? Shouldn’t we be able to define and than embody whatever ideal we see fit for our lives and if we wish to say that it fits under the umbrella of femininity, than so be it. Who’s to say otherwise?

Until recently all of the women that I’ve dated have been very typical “lipstick femme” as far as appearance goes. But as I continue to learn about myself , who I want to be and in turn who I want to be with, I’ve noticed myself noticing a lot more women who didn’t really fit into the “femme” category. They were more tombois, sporty, butch.

What surprised me wasn’t that I was attracted to them, it was some of my friends comments about it. No one said anything overtly critical but it was the way they said it, “You like butch women?”

Their reaction was always strong enough that I’m ashamed to say the first few times this happened I didn’t stand up for myself. But instead shrank back, afraid that my preferences might get me ousted from the inner circle. I found myself back peddling, “Um …. no … I don’t know …. well … um …. I mean, she’s not really butch, she’s sporty.” Looking at my friends faces for their approval or disapproval at my obvious digression from the groups norm I was relieved when they would just drop it and move on.

But the more I think about it and the more women I meet, I realize that yes, I am attracted to women that others may classify as butch. I still find certain femmes attractive but I take each person on an individual basis.

Armed with this recent self-realization I spoke to one of my closest friends about it. To my surprise and relief she was completely supportive and not the least bit judgmental. Which leads me to wonder if I overreacted to my friends earlier comments. Maybe what I perceived as judgment and disapproval was simply surprise for my breaking from routine.

So while I may have underestimated my friends and their ability to accept others. I stand by my earlier statement that overall there seems to be a bit of stigma, or prejudice against the butch identity from a lot of femmes here in LA. I’m working on a theory about it and so far all I have is this: I think that a lot of femmes have preconceived ideas about butch women and there’s a lot they don’t understand.

I also think that there’s a lot those girls may be missing by overlooking our strong, butch counterparts. Don’t get me wrong, taste is just about as individual as it gets. I’m all for going for whatever rocks your boat and if that happens to be two femmes rowing than cool beans. But there’s also something to be said for reaching outside of your comfort zone and seeing what happens. Exciting things have been known to happen out there.

Tags:   butch · femme10 Comments

So as some of you already know … I had a disaster of a date this weekend. Skipping over the details that bruise my ego I’ll get right to the point.

I realize that dating someone is not only bad for me, it’s worse for my career. Because dating implies that I like the person. Which is the beginning of a detrimental domino affect: I like her. –> We go out. –> She asks me not to blog about her. ( see # 4 in 11 reasons not to date me )–> Because I like her I try not to. –> I sit at home in front of my computer and just stare at it. Unable to write ANYTHING because I don’t want to hurt her feelings or intrude on her privacy.

I don’t want to write about other “activities” I may be involved in, because remember I actually like this one. Blowing my cover about past dalliances is one thing. But revealing to the girl you’re currently interested in, via a public blog that you may or may not have slept with someone the day after you saw her is another story. Not that I did anything that whorish. No sir, not me.

Even though I write for plenty of other things I realized that my self-censorship had seeped into all of my writing. Part of the problem is the distraction of thinking of somebody. I’m not used to being the “girl” in any relationship.

What I mean by that is that I found myself wondering what she was thinking and acting like “that girl” I always complain about! Grrr arrgg!!! I wanted to slap myself. But I’m over it and I’m back to normal. I’m not sure but maybe having drinks with a gorgeous porn star this evening help get me back on track.

What can I say? I’ve seen the light and it may lead to lesbian porn.

Tags: 2 Comments