Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

The List

Posted on 25. Feb, 2009 by Sasha.

Drum roll please ……

OK so in racking my brain to remember every place in Los Angeles that I’ve been able to pick up women, get picked up on or just spied some juicy possibilities I have come up with the following list.

(Sorry to my readers who are not local, but maybe your home town version of the same places might hold the same lesbian magic that these places seem to.)

First let’s begin with the obvious, obvious because they are deemed to be “gay” stomping grounds anyways, but still some are better then others.

1. Topping my list is Girl Bar in West Hollywood. It was the very first lesbian club I ever went to and I went alone. You can imagine how scared to death I was. But I ended up fooling around with one of the go-go dancers in the bathroom and then getting yelled at by her girlfriend in the parking lot. It was a good introduction to the lesbian club scene.

But honestly, Girl Bar is always a good time and I’ve never been there without getting at least one or two numbers stuffed in my pocket, even behind my girlfriend’s back. I only say that to stress the fact, that when women are at Girl Bar, they’re there for a reason; to have a good time. [...]

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In Defense of My Gayness … Again

Posted on 28. May, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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Myspace the Ultimate Lesbian Network

Posted on 09. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Myspace gets a bad rap with all the pedophiles and kidnappers on there. But hey, it’s no worse than LA. Personally, I love MySpace. I actually owe Tom a little thank you for the awesome group of ladies I now call my posse.

It all started one night when I was browsing MySpace for single lesbians in my area. I’d gotten to a place where I really didn’t care to meet anyone, I was just “looking.” Yea right! You know how that goes, when you don’t want to admit to anyone, little lone yourself how pathetically bored you’ve become with the local prospects. So in the privacy of your bedroom you turn to your own private pimp, Tom of MySpace to see what he’s got in his stable of cyber singles and swingers, all conveniently categorized into age, location and other vital stats. So I made my selection: women, 21-30, single, gay, with at least a college education, no children and within 20 miles of my zip code. I hit the return button and Tom didn’t disappoint.

Almost immediately I came across a profile called “Now Recruiting.” It was a page put together by three best friends, tired of wasting their time on douche bag fakes and morons who couldn’t differentiate between “they’re” and “their.” They had put together an ingenious application process meant to weed through the grammatically challenged and bisexually slutty. Slutty was fine as long as you were only being a gay slut. If you couldn’t count how many men you’d slept with or know when you needed to refer to a dictionary, you probably weren’t their cup of tea.

Something in their witty sarcasm and high standards struck a chord with me and so I sat down with a cup of coffee and spent an afternoon filling out their application. I’m proud to say that I was their first recruit. From the first time I met them, there was a connection that I knew meant only one thing: I’d found some real friends. The type of friends you can see yourself with twenty years down the line.

Throughout the next few months many girls applied and many girls failed to pass the test. We eventually ended up with two more girls bringing the count to six. This number would prove to be a little fluid with the addition and subtraction of significant others that would come and go. I think there’s a few keepers in that list so the number’s a bit higher now.

But the funniest thing is that this application process proved extremely effective. It seemed that the lucky few who survived the grammar section of the test all seemed to get along from the moment we met, as if we’d been friends forever. Which is useful since that’s exactly how long I plan on hanging out with them.

So while Tom has yet to deliver what I ordered: a tall, educated and super hot chick with eyes only for me, he’s done something better. He hooked me up with my best buds who are proving to be a great source of inspiration, both personally and professionally.

I don’t know about facebook, but I know that Myspace is definitely dyke friendly and lesbian approved by yours truly, a card carrying lesbian since 2001.

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Cloned Lesbians

Posted on 03. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

What’s up with the mini-me versions of lesbian girlfriends? I know I’m not the only one who’s noticed that quite a few lesbian couples sort of look like long lost twins of one another. Not that there’s anything wrong with this. I’m not saying that there’s anything Freudian about wanting to make love to yourself or anything like that. My real question is where the heck do they find each other?

Let’s take a few of my friends for example. I’ll change the names so that if they ever happen on this blog they won’t kill me. First there’s Jeanine and Jackie. They’re not clones per say since one is Jewish and one’s Asian. But let’s look at the rest of the picture shall we? They’re both about 5ft7, skinny enough to make Giselle jealous, long straight black hair and they both sport jeans and hoodies on a daily basis. Despite being different races, strangers still ask if they’re sisters.

Than there’s my other friend, let’s call her Maggie. She also happens to be skinny and beautiful but she has short, light brown hair and her own sexy style of dressing. She and I have been the single girls in the group until recently when she imported from another state her very own clone of a girlfriend. I didn’t think it was possible yet there they were, in all their glory one night at a local gay bar where I went to meet the newbie. I had to keep sneaking glances at them and taking inventory on the striking similarities: Same height, both super skinny, similar style of dress, same skin color, same freakin’ hair color and style! To top it off, I think they’re in love!

I remember reading somewhere about the biological purpose of beauty. It said that when you look around a crowded room and you lock eyes with a stranger and all of a sudden you think to yourself, “I’m in love.” What you’ve really done is found someone who looks just like you. Even if you don’t want to admit it, we all think we’re pretty hot stuff, so it makes sense if we find someone who looks like us, we’d probably think they’re pretty hot too.

So I guess that’s it huh? A biological reason for all the cloned lesbian couples running around West Hollywood and Long Beach. Like I said earlier, where the heck do I have to go to get one of those?

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80’s Prom Night, Could We Get Any Gayer?

Posted on 03. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

My amazingly cool group of friends are having a party this weekend. They’re calling it, “We’re too broke to make it to Dinah so we’re having an 80’s themed party!” OK. OK …. Maybe it’s not the catchiest name but you gotta admit, it gets the point across. My friends are nothing if not blunt.

Sounds good right? I mean, I can throw together some leg warmers and neon colored t-shirt/dress with a bad belt and capri leggings. My costume, unfortunately is not the problem. The issue is that like most lesbians, all my friends have conveniently coupled up with their perfect little girlfriends. Alas, I am the last single girl in the bunch. This however doesn’t usually bother me. My friends are great, not too mushy and when we’re at a club they get to make bets on how fast I can get the digits of the dime piece sitting by herself. I’m the proud owner of the biggest balls in the group.

But a house party full of couples and the only possible single person in sight is a straight guy smoking on the patio? Um, yea … I’ll pass.

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