Card Carrying Lesbian … What’s in your wallet?

No Strings Attached …. Uh huh …. I’m sure that’ll work.

Posted on 30. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

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?

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Another Dumb Dyke Move

Posted on 13. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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When Single Really Means SINGLE … within the Lesbian Lexicon

Posted on 11. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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Musings on Lesbian Promiscuity

Posted on 01. Jun, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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The Purgatory of Lesbian Text Dating

Posted on 26. May, 2008 by Sasha.

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?

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If you want a best friend, pick a lesbian.

Posted on 14. May, 2008 by Sasha.

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.

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Naked Twister Anyone?

Posted on 05. May, 2008 by Sasha.

Chemistry is a cruel science. Sometimes no matter how many things are on the plus side of the column, if that instant physical connection isn’t there, you’re doomed.

Then you have to look at all those pluses and ask yourself, “Is this worth the possible heartache in exchange for what could be an amazing friendship?”

The jury’s still out on this one.

I’m not used to being the vulnerable one in the equation. I don’t really like it … and by “really don’t like it” what I meant to say was I effin’ hate it. I even reverted to my cold-hearted bitch mode for a few minutes just to save face. But I instantly wanted to retract it when I thought it might have actually hurt her. That’s not what I wanted. What I wanted was to see where this may have gone. But it doesn’t look like the science is right for this particular chemical reaction. We went fizzle when we should have gone KaBoom.

Fuck science. When all else fails, play naked twister and see what happens.

PS: I realize this post was a bit cryptic out of respect for the person who “rejected” me last night. Blogging about sex, love and lies is what I do. As long as there’s never any collateral damage. I may be evil but I’m not a bitch.

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Salvage Title Lesbians

Posted on 01. May, 2008 by Sasha.

On the car lot of lesbian dating there are the “New” lesbians. Those would be your typical baby dykes. Newly out and/or young enough not have been ruined by repeated heartbreaks and Prozac.
Then there are the “Certified Pre-Owned” lesbians.

Your Certified Pre-Owned Lesbian comes to you in impeccable condition, inspected by technicians using a checklist of 117 points, and a comprehensive head-to-toe limited warranty.

Within this category we have two sub categories: The long term leases and the rental cars … er …I mean lesbians. The long term lease is equivalent to a serial monogamist. While the rentals may have had many drivers but are in mint condition and still under warranty. So they either have low miles or were mostly highway miles. Leaving both groups of women in decent enough emotional shape to enter into a healthy relationship. Theoretically they are the cream of the crop.

Then there’s the “Used” lesbians. They’re on the next lot over. They’re a little dusty, high mileage and definite gas guzzlers. They never got a tune up when they needed it and were driven into the road. This means that they’ve been used and abused by past lovers and their warranty ran out a few years back. So if you date these chicks you may have problems with abandonment issues, excess emotional baggage and perhaps some substance abuse problems stemming from their painful past that they will no doubt talk about all the time.

Lastly we have the “Salvage Title” lesbians. These women are uninsurable. Sure, they may have had body work done and they look good. But if you pop the hood and take a look you’ll see it’ll cost more to fix her than she’s worth.

So which one are you? Well I know I’m a salvage title and I’m OK with that. It just means I need to find someone who thinks my pretty paint job is worth all those trips to the garage … um, I mean worth the trouble.

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Warning: Damaged Dyke …. U-TURN AHEAD

Posted on 29. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

I recently made friends with a pretty cool woman. We even talked on the phone late into the night a few times. Gasp! What’s this? I actually spoke on the phone??? I know! That should tell you how much I like her. Since anyone who even remotely knows me, knows that I don’t do phones. Which was how I knew that she could probably end up being someone pretty special.

When I found myself checking my phone every five minutes I knew I was in trouble. So I did the next illogical thing. Instead of seeing where it went, I backed off before I could get any more attached.

Yes, it’s true. I’m guilty of pushing away an awesome woman in my ass backwards way of trying to protect her from the chaos that is the current version of me. I realize that I’m just not a good person in relationships right now. So instead of dragging her through the equivalent of emotional mud wrestling, I’ve taken it on myself to stop it before it gets there.

Part of me hopes she’ll read this, just so she knows how much I like her. Then the other part of me realizes that it’s a good thing blogging wasn’t around when I was actually twelve years old instead of now, when I just act like I’m twelve. As shown in my juvenile admission of hope and avoidance all in one fell swoop.

I think there’s a name for girls like me. Damaged.

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Dykes & Their Dogs

Posted on 29. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

A new friend of mine mentioned that she thought I was somewhat obsessed with my dogs. She may have come to this conclusion after reading #3 on my list of reasons not to date me. Her comment made me pause as I pondered where the line between love and obsession is when it comes to dykes and their dogs.

Yes, my dogs sleep with me in bed. Yes, one of them sleeps above my pillow which really means I usually end up sleeping with a puppy butt pressed firmly against my forehead. My other dog doesn’t realize she’s a dog and thinks she’s my room mate. We end up sleeping back to back, shoulder to shoulder and sharing a pillow.

Yes it’s true I don’t go anywhere unless I can get a babysitter for the kids. Which is lesbian speak for dogs. For most of us our dogs and cats are our babies and you heteros can just shove any snickering.

I’ve had a few breeder friends of mine laugh and say that I treated my dogs better than they treat their kids. The solution isn’t that I should start neglecting my dogs but rather that they should strive to better parents, like their gay and lesbian counterparts.

Unlike some straights I know, who “accidentally” got pregnant and then secretly resent their own children. I thought long and hard about getting puppies. Went through an arduous adoption process and when I finally brought my bundles of joy home you can be sure I had long since puppy proofed my house from top to bottom. Suffice it to say, I take puppy parenthood very seriously.

Yes it’s true I spend more money on my dogs than myself. When one of my dogs was a baby she almost died from parvo. At the time I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay the staggering vet bill. I love my dogs so much I literally considered sleeping with my flirty but ancient veterinarian in exchange for saving my dog’s life. Thankfully it didn’t come to that but there’s no doubt in my mind I would have whored myself out if that were the only way to save my puppy’s life.

Who me? Obsessed?

While I may be the only lesbian willing to sleep with a 65 year old male veterinarian in exchange for life saving vet care. I am NOT the only lesbian completely and totally in love with my dogs. Any afternoon at your local dog park and you’ll see what I mean. Forget lesbian bars. Just head on over to the dog park and you’re bound to see a bounty of lesbian cuties fawning over their kids.

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Lesbians and Height: The Last Prejudice

Posted on 28. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Even if you won’t admit it, I will. I’m prejudice. I’m prejudice against short girls and very very tall girls. But only if I plan on dating them.

As if lesbians don’t have enough to worry about when it comes to finding love, one thing that a lot of us look at is how tall she is. Is she too tall? Is she too short? Will I look like gigantor walking down the street with her? Will I break her if I if sit on her lap?

No matter how hot that little cutie is on the dance floor, if she’s too little I’m not going anywhere near her. I’m 5 ft 7” and can be found running around in 4 inch heels any day of the week. Do the math … that makes me an Amazonian 5 ft 11” in my favorite boots. If I walk up to that little 5 ft 2” hottie with bird bones, I’m going to look like a giant. In a girl’s brain giant translates as fat. So no matter how many nights I spend at the gym, my bones alone are going to outweigh her by more than my fragile ego cares to admit.

But too tall can be a problem too. Any girl over 6 ft starts to give me a complex. I’m not used to feeling like Napoleon but looking up all night long at a Glamazon has never really been my cup of tea.

So that leaves me holding a sign that says: You must be this tall to ride to this ride. In my universe, this tall means between 5 ft 6” and 5 ft 9”. The sad thing is that I know this cuts out an entire world of amazing women. I’m not saying I’m 100% against dating someone who doesn’t fit into my ideal height requirement. I’ve dated short women before. But its been my experience that the short ones tend to be extra bossy. But that’s a whole other blog.

What I’m left wondering after writing this is, is this mostly just a femme problem? Because I know a lot of butch women who love to date girls shorter then them. I think they’re called spinners.

The more I think about it … I think it’s really more of a weight issue than a height issue. The last thing a high maintenance femme wants to feel is fat. It’s pretty hard to weigh less than someone 6 inches shorter than you. So dating someone near your height and weight isn’t discriminatory, its self preservation. Think of it as a preemptive strike against eating disorders and low self-esteem.

So next time that dime piece that’s been staring at you doesn’t come over, walk by her and see how you two measure up. If she’s a head taller than you, it’s not you. It’s your height.

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Bipolar Lesbians Always Take The Rap

Posted on 18. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Honestly, I think bipolar chicks get a bad rap. Every time some girl goes all fatal attraction and makes bunny stew, she gets labeled, “That crazy bipolar bitch.” What the hell? I would like to take a moment here and say that there is a difference between psychotic sociopaths and bipolar disorder.

Here’s a quick checklist to see if your girlfriend is bipolar or if you’re just dating your future stalker:

Does she sit up all night and stare at you while you sleep. Then when you catch her, she acts like it’s romantic and totally normal? That’s psychotic.

Does she stay up all night because she can never sleep, so she cleans the house at 3:00 in the morning, cleans out the gutters and cooks a hundred different kinds of cookies before you even wake up? That’s bipolar.

Does she turn up in the oddest places? Like outside your gym, at your friend’s houses, your office … even though you never told her where any of these places are? Then leave a stuffed animal with it’s little furry chest slashed open and a note that reads, “Hi baby, this is what I would feel like if you ever left me. Kisses!” That’s psychotic.

Does she disappear on you and friends for weeks at a time, claiming to be busy with work or school but really she’s too depressed to leave her house? Only to reappear hyper, talkative and the life of the party? That’s bipolar.

Does she have violent tendencies? Throw things, hit you, push you, slap you? Again, psychotic.

Another thing to look for is that bipolar people are usually pretty creative, artsy types. Psychos on the other hand are usually to busy pretending to be normal that they don’t have the time or energy to be artistic. However the artist in them will shine through when coming up with terrifying yet creative ways to stalk you and/or scare your friends.

Does she cause scenes in public?
Sleep around when she’s bored with life?
Is she the best sex you’ve ever had?
Does she make you feel like you’re the only person on the planet?

Well that’s a toss up. Because bipolar and psycho chicks are both amazing in bed and can hoe it up with the best of them.

Not to mention they can both be quite the drama queen. To further complicate matters both have an uncanny ability to make the one they’re with feel as if time stands still just for them. I’m not sure why but I have a working hypothesis. I think that that they are such forces of nature, so full of self-created importance and drama that they create a sort of force field around themselves, like gravity. When you’re tied to them emotionally or sexually, you get pulled into their orbit and it starts to feel like you two are the only two objects in the universe. It’s intoxicating until it’s smothering and you’re grasping for air, racking your brain for a memory of the last time you felt normal. Then you realize you haven’t felt normal since before she came into your life.

So there you have it, while it’s true that crazy chicks make for great sex. There are different types of crazy. Some types make them eccentric, artistic, brilliant, moody and difficult. But the other type makes them scary, hazardous to your future love life (because they tend to pop out of closets when you least expect it, even though you could have sworn you changed the locks) and just down right creepy. Face it ladies, no matter how good crazy sex is, it’s just not worth it.

If not for yourself, think of all the innocent teddy bears out there. Really, it’s only funny till it’s taped to your windshield.

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You’ve got to catch them straight off the bus … before the pimps get to them!

Posted on 17. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

A friend of ours is having a BBQ this weekend for his birthday. So I thought I’d do a little social experiment and see if I could find a date on Craigslist! Last night I posted a simple little ad explaining the situation and a picture of me in my cowboy hat. Honestly I didn’t think anyone would respond.

Boy was I wrong. By 11:00 this evening I had a total of 82 emails from women all over LA and they’re still rolling in. A few of them just sent a one line response and a picture but most wrote thoughtful emails. I’m totally blown away with the amount of well-educated, articulate, single women out here. But even more surprising is how many of them are looking for love on craigslist!

I suppose it’s the nature of the beast so to speak. We’re forced to take steps that we usually would never consider in the name of finding a date. For one thing, Los Angeles is huge, at a little over 461 square miles it’s no wonder we can’t find each other at our local bar. But instead prowl the cyber streets looking for that special someone, or at least someone special enough for one night.

I’ll admit it. I’ve posted on CL before and I’ve even responded to a few ads. To be honest, I ended up dating two women I met on there for a couple months. Not at the same time of course. CL has a really bad rep. If you watch The People’s Court there’s always some poor bastard who found a room mate on there and then surprise surprise, the stranger they let in their house was crazy. But I’m not talking about roomies here, I talking about dates.

As far as I can tell, CL can be like Hollywood Blvd. Full of hookers and pimps but if you’re careful enough, you might find a nice girl that just got off the bus from Ohio and she hasn’t been turned out yet. So laugh if you will and I’m sure some of you already are. But craigslist just might come through for me yet …. Oh I have more mail! Gotta go.

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The Lipstick Mafia

Posted on 16. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

After accidentally blurting out my alleged ties to a particular family, i.e. the Lipstick Mafia I received a number of inquiries desiring more details. While my lawyer advises that I say as little as possible and admit to nothing, I was able to dig up some information for inquiring minds.

Lip·stick Ma·fi·a aka Lesbian Mafia
-noun

1. a non-hierarchically structured secret organization allegedly engaged in bringing sexy back into the lesbian community
2. A group of beautiful lipstick (and ChapStick) lesbians that have formed a close-knit circle of friends. They stick together, closing ranks around any member threatened by a real or imaginary threat, i.e. stalkers, ex’s and men.
3. All members are allegedly educated, brilliant and witty. Known to be aggressive in their chosen professions, any member of the alleged mafia is fully expected to dominate in their field.

An informant working with the CIA was able to smuggle out an excerpt from the LM dossier and it read:

According to the intel we have gathered it seems that the Lipstick Mafia, some times referenced as the Lesbian Mafia consists of a tight knit group of friends that adhere to a strict code of honor and integrity.

They appear to have each others best interest in mind at all times and betrayal is not an option.

They recruit only the best, brightest and most beautiful of their kind. Yet an inside source reports that once initiated into the ranks, members are equally loved and supported by one another.

We’ve never seen anything like this in the field before. Beautiful, intelligent women are usually rivals, yet these women somehow surpassed that and together have become something we’ve never witnessed before. We are unsure as to what measures can be taken. As of yet, they appear to have no weaknesses that we might exploit to our advantage.

To date, all surveillance suggests that now that these women have found each other and formed this alliance it would seem that they are unstoppable and if not yet, will very soon be a force to be reckoned with, on a global scale. INTERPOL should be warned of this impending threat, so that the lesbians in Europe will be prepared. All indicators suggest that they will set the world on fire and that the world is going to love it.

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11 Reasons NOT to Date Me

Posted on 14. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Maybe I should have posted this earlier, but better late than later.

(Slight disclaimer: For the right girl I might be willing to work a bit on 1,2,7 & 8 …. well, probably not 2. But the rest depends on you.)

1. I’m emotionally distant … I’ve been called cold on more than one occasion.

2. I’m severely allergic to cuddling. If you’re new to my blog, let me fill you in. I will, let me repeat, I WILL have sex with you and then leave AS SOON as possible, usually in various stages of undress just to make sure you don’t have the chance to ask me what I’m thinking.

3. I put my dogs and family first. My friends and career after that. So that leaves you in a dismal third, fourth or fifth, depending on your math skills. Even if you manage to claw your way up my priority list, you’ll always come after my puppies. Always.

4. I will probably blog about you and any dumb ass thing you do or I do to you.

5. I don’t believe in marriage, so even if gay marriage ever becomes legal, I won’t be signing any contracts with you and the state.

6. I don’t want children and I don’t want your children. Cold, right? I know, I already warned you about that.

7. I hate talking on the phone.

8. I’m a loner, a hermit, a recluse. Just ask my friends. I can be bribed to go out and when I do, I’m worth the trouble. But it’s not often enough for most. Don’t get me wrong, I’m good with the one to one, but I need my space.

9. I have a fabulous vocabulary … if you don’t, then you don’t want to date me. I won’t be rude about it, but I’ll think less of you and quickly stop calling you back if you ever ask me, “Can you stop using such big words?”

10. I have beautiful ex’s. A few of them have been in Maxim. I have no feelings for them at all, but don’t ask me whom I’ve dated, Google them and then give me shit about it every time you see them on TV or something.

11. I won’t take you to meet my friends until I’m pretty sure you can withstand the harsh gaze of Maggie and Jeanine. The others are cupcakes in comparison. I should be totally honest and tell you no one’s lasted long enough to meet them … so if I take you, you’ll be under a special kind of scrutiny that comes from being the first girl I ever bring over for their approval. Mind you, their approval will be required … so that’s about 7 more reasons right there, you don’t want to date me.

Well there you have it. The down and dirty truth about yours truly. I mean really, don’t you wish all your ex’s posted all their worst faults for you to peruse before you got emotionally attached? I’m just trying to cut the middle man out and save us both a lot of trouble.

I’m sure after reading this, I seem like quite the catch …. yea, I thought so.

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My Boy Brain Gets Me In Trouble … Yet Again

Posted on 13. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

A few days ago a woman who reads my blog on a regular basis sent me an email on myspace. Here’s what it said:

Hi, I read your blog everyday at work. I was curious about what you might look like so I sent you add request on here. Obviously. I don’t know what to say except that I find you extremely attractive, but I’m straight. I’m really very straight. But if I were ever to be with a woman I would hope it could be you.

OK …. so what do you do with that? Well here’s what my reply said:

Thanks.

I thought that would be that. But if it were do you really think I’d be telling you about it now? Of course not. So she continued to email me several times a day. As it turns out she seemed like a cool person, educated, pretty and well rounded. We had some stuff in common and I figured another friend is always good. But then she asked to meet in person.

We arranged to meet at a local bookstore the other day. About an hour after saying hello we were checking into the closest hotel. Before I knew it, it was midnight and I was ready to go home. She however, was under the impression that this was a slumber party. This is when my boy brain kicks in and I start looking for the fire escape. Damn it why did we have to be on the 10th floor?!

After explaining to her I had to get home for my dogs, she grudgingly moved to the side, no longer barring the door to my freedom. I only live 15 minutes from the hotel, yet somehow she managed to leave me 11 voice mails by the time I pulled into my driveway. So I called her back and found her panic stricken on the other end of the phone. She was hysterical. So like a dumb ass, I drove back to the hotel.

She was completely loopy over what had happened and what this meant for her. She was asking me a million questions I couldn’t answer for her. She was the only one who could tell if she was straight, gay, bi, whatever. But now she was putting this all on me as if my being the first woman she was ever with gave me some sort of responsibility over her now.

Oh great! My boy brain was going into overdrive and I seriously considered pretending like I didn’t speak any English. I realize that didn’t make much sense since I was speaking English all day long, but for a split second I thought if I just broke out in Russian or Farsi, she might be confused enough for a second that I could get away. Bad Sasha! I know. Don’t worry, the girl part of my brain told the boy part to stop being so boyish and by boyish I mean stupid.

So I tried to put my girl brain in the driver seat and attempted to be more comforting than usual. We talked and talked …. and then talked some more. (This really reinforced why I never cuddle.) I guess in some ways I do feel a little responsible. But she’s an adult and she initiated the whole thing. I don’t think I deserve to be blamed for seducing a willing party and making them question the foundation of their life.

I’m pretty sure she was already questioning it, otherwise why ever contact me, little lone follow through with the events that followed.

I don’t like feeling like a jerk for sleeping with a woman who literally begs me to. Am I supposed to feel guilty about making her very happy for a few hours? So happy she’s now questioning her sexuality? I don’t think any crime was committed. It’s not like this is Arkansas.

I’m well aware that she’ll be reading this and that’s good. I am what I am and she knew that. (She even gave me permission to write about this.) I write every day about my point of view on things. I admit my faults online for the whole world to see! What more can I do? Geez. Women are so much trouble.

So she’s now considering calling herself a lesbian and I’m left wondering … am I a jerk?

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To sleep or not to sleep with your best friend?

Posted on 10. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Admit it, you have one too. A close friend who you’ve known forever, you guys talk about everything, you go out and cruise for chicks together. You cry on her shoulder and she cries on yours and you totally want to know what it’s like to sleep with her. In spite of obvious sexual tension between the two of you for some reason, neither one of you has ever acted on it. Sure, there’s been some drunken make-out sessions and questionable fondling on the dance floor. But nothing either one of you couldn’t cover up with another shot of vodka followed by molesting the next three strangers that walk by just to make it look like you’re that drunk.

So what’s held you back from going all the way sober? From what I can tell, here are the major reasons:

1. Timing. You’re always single when she’s happily hooked up to the wrong girl. Leaving you to sit there and bite your tongue as you listen to how fabulous the new wench is. Then by the time your friend wises up and dumps the tramp, you’ve already met someone equally undeserving in the eyes of your bestie. But love and lust are blind and now she’s stuck listening to you go on and on about the newbie. For some reason, the universe conspires against you two would-be-fuck-buddies and you’re never single at the same time.
2. You don’t want to ruin the friendship. Now this is a legitimate concern. Many a lesbian friendships have gone the way of awkward silence after a drunken night of truth telling and sloppy seconds. So it’s understandable that you don’t want to risk losing a true blue bud over sex.
3. Then there’s the creep factor. You guys are so close, you’re like sisters. Eew! But no matter how close you feel, the fact remains, you are not related and no court in the world would blame you for sleeping with her. So the creep factor sits heavily on your conscience but you manage to push it to the part of your brain where things like algebra and calculus go to die.
4. You’re scared. You’ve seen the girls she’s been with, you’ve heard the tales of her sexual conquests and maybe you’re not so sure how you’d measure up. Nothing could be more mortifying than having your best friend think you’re a bad lay. Not only does that not bode well for the two of you, it also has the potential of getting around to your other friends. Ouch! The possibility of losing your friend and your rep all in one fell swoop? Not such an appetizing idea after all.

But let’s say you’re a rock star in bed and you know it. By some miracle you’re both single at the same time and you’re over the pseudo-incestuous angst you were once hung up on. So now what? Do you throw caution to the wind and make a move? But wait! There’s one more problem!

What if all this sexual tension you’ve been feeling over the years is all in your head? What if you’re the only one who wonders what it would be like to take your friendship to another level? What if you’re slightly psycho and you just never realized it before?!

Does any of this sound even slightly familiar? Well welcome to my world. So I settle back into our comfortable roles of sexually frustrated friends with a healthy dose of denial thrown in for good measure. Does she like me or is it in my head? Honestly, I’m sure she likes me. But for all the same reasons, I’m sure she’ll never act on it either. Ensuring another ten years of friendship unmarred by sex, no matter how good we both know it would be.

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My Boy Brain Made Me Do It

Posted on 08. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

Throughout the years there is a phrase that everyone who gets to know me well enough has uttered more than once, “You look like a girl but you think like a dude.”

When a girl starts talking and telling me about her day, an amazing thing happens. I go partially deaf and can only hear a slight murmur in the background of my thoughts. It’s only loud enough for me to hear when she’s paused to take a breath and I know that’s my que to say, “Huh uh.”

It gets worse if she starts asking me what I’m thinking or god forbid, what I’m feeling! Before she can finish asking me, I’m already looking for the door and racking my brain for a feasible escape plan.

Another thing that always gets me labeled with a “boy brain” is that I don’t cuddle. Actually I can’t stand it. I’m sorry to admit it but on more than one occasion I’ve been guilty of leaving post-whoopee-pre-cuddle. I mean immediately after wards, as I beg for forgiveness for my swift exit, spinning some excuse as I hop on one foot while putting the other shoe on. Every hop getting me closer to the door. Until I apologetically close the door behind me and breath a deep sigh of relief as I feel my freedom rush over me with the breeze. The only thing marring that wonderful sensation is the sound of a shoe slamming against the barely closed door. I duck anyway, out of habit. Then happily and maybe slightly guilty, swagger to my car trying to suppress a devious smile

I suppose if those traits earn me the label of having a “boy brain” than I can’t argue too much. I realize that the women branding me with it probably don’t mean it as a compliment but I don’t mind. Apparently, neither do they. At least not until the hopping starts.

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Super Dyke to the Rescue!

Posted on 05. Apr, 2008 by Sasha.

We all know one, a Super Lesbian. A girl who’s got it all together and keeps everyone else’s crap together too. There’s one in every group, the mother, the savior, the hero, the master chef and master builder all rolled into one. Our group has one too. I’ll call her Jeanine.

Jeanine is a Super Lesbian. She has a real estate license, a notary license, an appraisal license, she runs an entire company and she takes care of her girlfriend, her family and all her friends as if she has boundless energy and 48 hours in every 12. In her spare time she’s an amazing artist and just recently realized she can design and build a masterpiece of a bookshelf/entertainment center in an afternoon. I don’t know how she does it, it took my dad 4 months to replace a single shelf in my kitchen cabinet. Yet Jeanine’s an Extreme Home Makeover in a one one woman show.

The funniest thing is that she’s every one’s best friend. Seriously. There’s about sixteen people who swear her constant friendship and reliability keep them sane and alive. When my mom was in the hospital she was the one offering to bring me food and sit with my mom so I could take a break at one o’clock in the morning. I often find myself thinking about Jeanine and her amazing super powers of being everywhere at once and being everything to everyone. I’m in constant awe of her.

The Super Lesbian is a rare breed. A strong woman capable of juggling as many balls as the world throws at her and never dropping a single one. I know what I want to be when I grow 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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