Remi and I have a new friend! She’s a girl I met at my gym. I had seen her in classes but never really talked to her. Then a couple weeks ago, our gym had a Fight Night at Sharkeez in Hermosa Beach. Having recently divorced myself from my last standing friendship from a debacle of a year (as far as friends and drama goes) I made myself go by myself, determined to “mingle” and start meeting new people.

I tend to be ridiculously punctual. When I say punctual, what I really mean is I’ll usually be there about 15 minutes early and then sit in my car staring at my watch until the exact moment approaches where I then time how long it will take me to walk from my car to the location so that I actually enter at EXACTLY the right time. I know there’s medication for people like me, but I don’t like drugs.

Back to my story. I was punctual as usual, and afraid I was going to be the first one there. But alas there were two other girls that were equally anal and already seated at one of our tables. I eventually worked up the courage to sit by them and surprise, surprise, these two very pretty girls were not your average LA hotties, complete with bad attitudes. Quite the opposite actually, they were both super sweet, engaging and very likable.

We quickly realized that we had a few things in common: For fun we all went to our gym, hung out with our dogs, read a lot and none of us were drinking. Could it be?? Could it actually be possible that I found two girls that were as nerdy and friendly as me? (Now before you jump down my throat, I love nerds, consider myself to be one and use that as a term of endearment.)

I saw one of them, Lana, again at the gym’s Halloween party and exchanged numbers so that we could hang out some time.

If you read my blog you know that I am notoriously hermitic only venturing out socially when manic or forced to by Remi. However, something about Lana had that feeling you only get once in a while with new friends, as if you’ve known each other forever. It might have something to do with the fact that she reminds me a lot of my ex-best friend. She doesn’t look like her at all, but they have the same mannerisms. Even Remi has pointed out the striking similarities to me after hanging out with her.

Whatever the reason, we ended up at her house a few nights ago with a couple of bottles of saki in hand. After texting her while shopping at Trader Joe’s it became apparent that we were all bored and had nothing better to do, so why not do it together. That is SOOOO not me! To just drop in on a friend and hang out!?? But it was me that night and it was great.

She has this super cute little house right on the cliffs, with a view from her porch of the ocean. She has a ginormous, yet super sweet dog that kept head butting Remi and a darling cat. But best of all, she and Remi actually get along!

I swore after all we went through this last year, that one of the prerequisites for being a friend of mine is that you HAVE to  get along with my girlfriend! Suffice it to say that Lana passes that with flying colors.

So I’m proud to say that I have a new friend. Actually I should probably say that we have a new friend. Since it was made obvious last night when we took her to dinner and then out to the bookstore, that whenever we weren’t amazed at some of our OCD traits we share, she shares the other half of her interests with Remi.

I know I seem a little too happy about having a new friend, but it’s harder now days to make new friends. Especially since I’m not in school or in a work environment that lets me meet people everyday. So yea, it is sort of a big deal and I’m dorky enough to admit being stoked over having found a new buddy.

Oh and the best part about her??? She’s straight!

Which will be a blog all it’s own on the advantages of having a straight, female friend.

A few months ago, my sister used emotional blackmail to get me onto Facebook. Something I had sworn I would never do. After all, I was a MySpace kind of girl. I love being able to show my mood through my profile page, my playlist, my photos …. you get the idea. As far as I could see, FB was for boring people who wanted nothing more then to be able to “twitter” at one another. Where was the fun in that?

I reluctantly signed up with FB to able to talk to my sister more often. Immediately realizing this could be used to communicate with the rest of my family, that I did not want on my myspace page. Why the double life? Well I’ll tell you.

When I was little, I felt like the black sheep of the family. All my cousins went to church every week. I never did. My cousin’s parents were all still married. Mine were divorced. They lived in small towns and were close to the rest of the family. I was born and raised in Los Angels and only saw them at Christmas.

It was never actually said in front of me, but I got the very strong impression that my aunts thought I was a bad influence on my younger cousins. Which at that time, couldn’t have been further from the truth.

However, fast forward 20 years and I can safely and proudly assert that I have become, what some may deem, a very bad influence. In college I was a go-go dancer and  a belly dancer. Which in itself is not a sin, but I’m sure it looks like one to church faring people. Cheated on every boyfriend I ever had with women. Cheated on a few women with other women. Since college, I have left two very lucrative careers in order to pursue writing. I’ve “become” a lesbian. Slept around. Been known to party all night long till last call in almost every night club in Hollywood. Drank myself to oblivion every now and then. Worked ever so briefly in lesbian porn. (Behind the scenes of course.) Considered becoming an agent for said porn. But now I’ve settled down and am living in sin with my girlfriend. Happily ensconced in what has become the most normal and stable relationship I’ve ever had.

My point of this is that I write under the pen name: Sasha Lotrian …. which would also have been my porn name. You know how that formula goes, the name of your first pet and your mother’s maiden name. Or the street you grew up on? Whatever. It’s also my favorite alias at clubs and at Starbucks. Because my real name takes too long to explain how to say it and why it’s spelled that way.

…… And thank God I do write under a pen name. Otherwise my little cousins, my sister, my aunts and oh, let’s not forget my brother who still doesn’t know I’m a lesbian could easily Google me and find out their worst fears have been realized. I’m everything they ever thought I might be and so much more. A liberal, sexually-free lesbian with gay porn on her resume. Wow. I wouldn’t want a kid of mine hanging out with the likes of me either!

Hence the double life. FB has my given name, so my family and super conservative high-school friends (from a Christian high-school) can find me and see if I’ve gained a thousand pounds or have any kids. There is no link to my blog on my FB, no mention of my alter-ego, Sasha Lotrian. No way they can track me down.

My Myspace however, is for the real me. The name I gave myself because it fits who I’ve become and who I want to be, better then the name my parents gave me before they knew me well enough.

I thought the two would never meet. But I was oh so wrong. Since FB is getting more and more popular (which I still disagree with) all my new friends from my gym and my old college friends are on here. Several of them have asked why they can’t find my blog when they google me? While flattered I’m being googled, I still have to explain to them the whole alias aspect of my writing. So I send them a link and hope they don’t mention it on my wall at some later, unsuspecting date. The last thing I need is my Mormon family perusing Card Carrying Lesbian and reading old blogs about car sex and dildos.

I’ve since fallen for her in almost every movie she’s ever done, except for The Fifth Element.

Her look ranges from ultra femme to downright dykey. Of course, given my penchant for lesbians, I prefer her with short hair.

What got me on my little Milla rant? I just watched Joan of Arc for the first time tonight and found her inexplicably hot after she chopped off all her hair, riding around on a horse in armor. You know me, always a sucker for a knight in shining armor.

Then as if her hotness wasn’t enough, I once saw her barking a song out on The Carson Daly Show. Be still my beating heart: a hot chick with a weird/dorky sense of humor. Hmmmm hmmmm ….. I’ll take that.

Life doesn’t stop for your problems. Life doesn’t even slow down. You’re on the highway of life, barreling down the road at 100 miles an hour and when a bipolar episode hits …. it’s like wham! Crashing into the guardrail at full speed, without a seat belt on.

But instead of shattering glass and the sound of crunching metal, the sounds you hear are your friendships falling apart, your career disintegrating and your life falling down around you. If you’re really really lucky, the one thing you don’t lose is your understanding girlfriend. Because she’s the one and only thing you were able to get the seatbelt around right before you crashed.

I keep getting emails from other lesbians who are in relationships with women who have depression or BPD, or they have it themselves. They keep asking me how I deal with it? How does Remi deal with it? What’s my advice?

I’m no expert. I’m just like them. Stumbling through life with BPD trying to make the best of it on the days I can, and trying not to do anything irreversible on the days I can’t.

I’ve been congratulated for coming out publicly about my BPD. Which is nice and all, but it was either that or just let  the world keep thinking I’m a flake. Which I am, but there’s a reason for it. A lot of people with BPD also have a few other issues to deal with: some may be diagnosed as Borderline, or OCD, or ADD …. you get the idea. Myself? Well for whatever reason I tend to be a bit agoraphobic. I get into these funks where I can’t leave my house for weeks at a time. Which as you can imagine has a negative effect on my social life.

One of the hardest aspects of this whole thing, is maintaining friendships. Because seriously, who would want to be friends with a girl who can’t even go out and get the mail sometimes? It’s not that I don’t want to go out. It’s that when I get to the door, an overwhelming sense of panic and paranoia come up and I feel like I’m going to die. Most of the time, simply making plans about going out will have the same affect. I know, loads of fun. And just for added kicks and giggles, this anxiety extends to talking on the phone. I hate it. I don’t even like talking to Remi on the phone. I’ll text till my fingers fall off, but I absolutely abhor talking on the phone.

Thank God I’m not always like this. But when I’m not, I try to make up for all the lost time. I go out A LOT. Party A LOT. Work out A LOT. Shop A LOT. Socialize A LOT. Have sex A LOT. Life in a manic or hypo-manic stage can be awesome. (Not counting the aftermath.) But it never lasts, and it definitely doesn’t last long enough.

When that high fades, I do to. I fade out of sight and withdraw from the outside world. Completely.

It’s not hard to imagine that friendships have been tested over that. But that’s also why the friends that I do have, I would do anything for and have.

Because of a recent comment from someone that said, “I do know how hard this friend of yours has tried and how much effort she has put into your friendship. Which, though I don’t know you THAT well, I do know that is quite the task and takes a lot of effort with someone like yourself.”

Someone like yourself. I hate to admit it, but that sentence reverberated with me to the bone and kept replaying itself in my head for the next few days. Somehow, all my insecurities and self-loathing over BPD was confirmed in that one sentence. What I heard, was that all those times I’ve thought that I wasn’t worth the air I breathe, or that I was nothing more then a burden to my girlfriend or my family, or that I was a bad person because I couldn’t control this thing and it controlled me … that all those things were the truth.

But then, one of my best friends in the world left a comment and reminded me that I have some true blue friends, and that those relationships have been tested by time and hardships and survived. I had to really think about it for a minute: I have friendships that have lasted 20 years! Besides showing my age, that also shows that I can’t be that crappy of a person to be able to maintain a friendship that long. I’m the godmother of my friend, Nate’s baby because we’ve been through so much together in the 13 years we’ve been friends, he knows that he can trust me with his daughter’s life.

Yea sure. Maybe I don’t go out every single weekend and drink at some bar, shooting the breeze with a group of friends. Maybe I don’t just “hang out” a lot with my buddies. But that does not make me a bad person, or a bad friend.

I know this blog is a bit scattered, but it’s reflective of my inner workings right now. I keep vacillating between self-condemnation and private pep-talks between me, myself and I.

So I have this to say about friendships: I think that the people/person I am no longer friends with from that previous blog have a lot of requirements for their friends. They need or want them to fit into a certain box and when they don’t then they think there’s no room for them in their life. Which is fine, because everyone is entitled to live their life on their terms.

I however don’t expect anything from my friends, except to be able to trust them. I know we all have complicated lives and I don’t try to make my friend’s lives conform to some pre-fab ideas I have of how they should behave in order to be in my world. Because it’s not MY world. We’re all on this planet together and we’re all trying. In return, the friends I’ve had all my life know that I might not make it to all the parties, but they can trust me with all their secrets and know that I’d let them live with me if they needed to (and have) and that I’ve gone way WAY out of my way to get them out of some pretty sticky situations that would have landed me in jail had I been caught.

So I guess while I may not be the most social friend a girl could have. I am the one they call in the middle of the night when they need help that requires …. er … shall we say ….   thinking outside the box?

I’ve come to realize that there are different kinds of friends. What kind are you? Or what kind do you prefer?

The Original: Sophia Loren

Not Sophia, but pretty close.

I should have known I was a lesbian, when at 5 years of age I declared I was in love with Sophia Loren. I convinced myself (and my mother) that I simply idolized her and wanted to grow up to be like her, not be with her.

But I’m all grown up now, and while Sophia Loren is still a Goddess, even at her age. There is a new beauty on the scene that is more then a little reminiscent of my first love.

As beautiful as the Guess model is (sorry, I couldn’t find her name anywhere) … there’s still something about the original that can never be duplicated.

But tonight we’re headed out to the West Hollywood Halloween Costume Carnaval, to roam the streets of Hollyweird with all the other freaks of the night …. I can’t wait!

Before we start getting ready for the evening, Remi carved our pumpkins. After I saw her masterpiece, I made her do mine too. Take a look! Remi’s is the skull and mine is the cute face.

So it’s almost Halloween and I’ve been sewing all week! Next year, please remind me to start this whole process in August. I always underestimate how long these things take. I have a tendency to do that …. like with my house: Oh the floors will only take 3 days. I can knock that kitchen out in 24 hours! I can fix both costumes in an afternoon, no sweat! … Would someone please shake me next time I so loudly proclaim the impossible is possible.

So while we’re still working on the lining to Remi’s trench coat today, my costume is complete. But now I need some outside opinions here.

Here are two photos of the hair, makeup and contacts that makeup part of my Hallow’s eve look. But should I wear my hair up or down? I’m thinking up because it shows the neckline of the robe off and I think it looks more dramatic with that makeup. But I’ve had several guy friends of mine insist I should wear it down.

Ugh …. so please let me know what you think looks best. Up or down??

Thank you, thank you, thank you for your honesty. Like other commentators, I was searching for “lesbian” and “bipolar” and your site came up.
I’m not bipolar–I have struggled with depression in the past, so I have an inkling of part of what it might be like. But I am starting to date someone who is bipolar. I sense the potential for an amazing relationship here–she’s sweet, caring, sexy, creative, intelligent–ok, all that stuff we see in a new lover. I want to be able to offer her the support and caring she needs, when she needs it, without smothering or mothering. She’s an adult and has lived with this many years–she knows her signs and triggers, and doesn’t want or need a caretaker.
I know much of this has to come from her–and we have talked about it, in some depth. She’s shared her triggers and signs with me, and asked me to tell her when I think I see them.
I want this relationship to work, or if it fails, I want that to be as little about her illness (her term, not mine) as possible.
What I’m asking, I guess, is What do I need to know, what should I be aware of–what are the pitfalls and joys? I want to be with her and I want to support her around this in any way possible, without making it the focus of our relationship.
I hope this makes some kind of sense… And I am certainly not trying to make you the poster girl for bipolar lesbians, Sasha…but I didn’t see any other connections out there.
Thank you so much–I don’t know you, but I’ll send a hug your way anyway. I love your writing.

I thought it deserved it’s own blog.

I also thought that since you asked what are the pitfalls and joys of being in a relationship with a bipolar person, I was the wrong one to ask. Remi is actually the person we should turn to for her opinion on this.

So I decided to interview her.

Sasha: “Remi, what do you think has been some of the hardest things to deal with in dating a girl with bipolar disorder?”

Remi: “One of the hardest things is that when it’s really bad, you tend to lash out, verbally. It takes a lot of patience and understanding to remember that it’s not you. It’s another person. It’s the disease talking, not my girlfriend.”

Sasha: “Why put up with it at all?”

Remi: “Because always immediately following it, you’re so apologetic and feelings of worthlessness take over and it’s hard to see you like that. I know that you’re sorry. I know it wasn’t really you.”

Sasha: “What would you say would be another pitfall to dating a person with bipolar?”

Remi: “The constant worrying that you’re going to hurt yourself.”

Sasha: “How do you deal with that?”

Remi: “By trying to feel the day out before I go to work. But that’s not always enough because you can switch on a dime while I’m gone. So I try to stay in contact with you during the day. If I don’t hear from you for too long in between, I can start to worry.”

Sasha: “Anything else?”

Remi: “Yea, when you’re manic there’s no telling who you’ll flirt with. That definitely worries me. I would tell her not to take her girlfriend out to clubs when she’s manic.”

Sasha: “Why do you put up with all this?”

Remi: “On the flip side of things, it’s like the completely opposite person. Loving, caring, tries to do things just to make me happy. It’s a complete turn around. You’re fun and dorky and adventurous.”

Sasha: “So is it worth it, in the end?”

Remi: “Let me put it this way, I would take a week of the downs, a week of you going through one of your worse episodes, for one good day with you. So yes, it is worth it.”

Sasha: “What would you tell someone embarking on a relationship with a bipolar person?”

Remi: “Be patient. Because it’s worth it in the end.”

So Martha. I hope that helps in some way.

I can tell you this, that interviewing my own girlfriend for this was probably a bad idea. It was hard to hold back the tears when she talked about how hard it is to be in a relationship with me. I really don’t know why she does it. But good luck to you and your girlfriend. I hope it all works out.

Photo by Jill Posener

I am in love with Rachel Brice. But Zoe Jakes ain’t half bad either. What do you think? Who do you think is a better dancer between the two? And by that, what I’m really asking is who would you rather do or be done by? Come on, tell.

Contestant #1 for your viewing pleasure: The lovely and talented Rachel Brice

(she’s the first and main dancer)

Or the very pretty, Zoe Jakes?

I was bound and determined to find some video footage to show Remi … to spark in her the same image I have of what’s possible if we were to take classes together. Then I remembered the movie Frida and I found this clip. I remember the first time I saw this, years ago …. way before the world ever heard of the L Word. At that time, it was one of the hottest scenes I had ever seen.

It’s a lot tamer now, by today’s standards. But still, very sexy.

Well I hadn’t until today. I used to teach ballroom, salsa and swing dancing but I haven’t so much as stepped foot in a dance studio for at least 5 years. Honestly, I thought I might never dance again for various reasons. Being burned out was at the top of that list.

But recently I’ve started missing the feeling I would get from gliding across that perfectly polished, wooden floor. The smell of resin and the tingle I used to get as soon as I walked into a studio. I don’t miss the eating disorders, the warped body image issues and the self-loathing of ballet classes.

I do however miss the elegance of the tango, the sensuality of the rumba, the sexiness of salsa and the fun of swing. I had heard some time ago, rumors that there were gay and lesbian ballroom classes somewhere in Long Beach. Hmmm ….. let the hunt begin!

So I began trying to talk Remi into taking classes with me if I could find the right place. In my Googling I stumbled across the World Outgames on YouTube and had to share this with you. These gay boys can sure dance!

While not exactly the motivation I had hoped to find for Remi, it was still a great way to start the day. Then while looking for lesbian couples, I found these boys instead. It was too jaw dropping not to share.

Oh and if anyone knows where they actually teach gay and lesbian ballroom or salsa would you PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know? Thank you