Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

Pride + Ex’s = Guaranteed Drama

Posted on 29. Apr, 2009 by Sasha.

As any of you locals know, Long Beach Pride is coming up in a few weeks. Can I just say that I can NOT wait!!!

First of all, last year’s Pride was pretty awesome. I was hanging with a big group of hot lesbians and it was actually on the last night of Pride at a club that I ended up meeting Remi for the very first time face to face. Which makes me wonder how many couples are made and lost over Pride weekend? I think someone should do a poll.

Last year’s Pride was pretty full of drama. On the first night of Pride was the first night I slept with Mr. and then the very next night, on the last day, is when I met Remi. Eeeeeekkk …. when I lay it all out there like that, on a little time line it’s creepier then it sounded in my head.

It was also the first day Mr. (the woman I was so totally into) met my group of friends. Let’s just say that was a huge disaster. So what do I do? I go home with her, sleep with her and then end up crying because she didn’t kiss me. Gawd, can someone say pathetic? What’s even worse was instead of that being a sign to move on, I took it as a sign that she had been so badly hurt in her last relationship that she was afraid to get close to me. So of course that made me want her even more.

But anyone who reads my blog, or wants to go back and read old blogs can see how badly that all turned out. She broke my heart …. a few times. But don’t fret, Remi was my happy ending. It just took me some time to realize it.

So this year’s Pride promises to be interesting. I’ll be going with Remi of course. But at least one or two of her ex’s will be roaming around. Not to mention that Mr. will no doubtably make an appearance with her group of friends. Plus there’s at least a hand full of girls I’ve slept with, several hand fulls I’ve made out with and least a few actual ex’s that hate my guts that wouldn’t miss Pride for the world.

Yep. I can’t wait. The really big question is: What am I going to wear? I mean besides the huge “DYKE” tattoo on my forehead.

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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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Where Old Lesbians Go To Die

Posted on 01. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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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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