A Love Letter for the Perfect Woman in My Dreams July 10, 2010

Sweetheart:

I’ve met you before and longed for you always. You are the girl I teased in grade school who laughed at my jokes and held my hand on the playground. Your innocent, sweet smile offered a recognition and understanding that buoyed me up and erased all the problems from home. We shared jokes and talked about our dreams. When I fell off the horse at summer camp and my hand was crushed, you washed my hair for me when I couldn’t.

As a teenager, your companionship brightened my days and warmed my heart, confusing me with the first delicious taste of desire. I longed to touch your hair and hold you in my arms, to disappear in your lovely curves, melting into your body to become one. You became my inspiration and my reason for waking each morning.

Now, as I look at you, I linger in your soft and caring eyes, unable to look away. Your  laugh resides in my heart, caressing me always, a reminder of all that is tender and sweet. Your lips call to me, luscious and full, ripe with possibility. and the promise of paradise here on earth. In your hands you hold my heart, with the power to crush me or soothe me with one simple gesture.

I long to spend uncomplicated moments in time with you on a porch swing or walking in a park. I want to eat my meals with you and share all the simple pleasures that life offers up. I want to feed you, shave your legs and brush your hair, exploring every crevice of your lovely body, and to hear your breathing change in response to my touch.

I want everything for you. I want your tears to spring forth from joy, and your world filled with the love of family and friends. I want you to sing victorious from achievements accomplished, and your heart to beat strong with the  knowledge that your sentiment is returned and shared with gentle people.

I want to cradle you, rock you and sweeten your life. I want to surround you with the softest parts in me, with all the good God gifted me with. And when we’re old, I want to share my last moments with you as we relinquish our grasp on this earth, and move onto our next adventure knowing the joy of true love.

Forever,

AWordGrl

Words of Support to a Troubled Lindsay Lohan July 7, 2010

     Let’s face facts. Celebrities don’t live in the “real’ world. I know, that shouldn’t give them an excuse to misbehave. But by the age of 24, who hasn’t taken a walk on the wild side, besides the few who mature early and are smart enough to skip past the whole “acting out” portion of young adulthood. Most of us do our misbehaving in private and grow out of it by our late twenties, when the appeal dies down and we find a better focus in our life. My hope for Lindsay and any other troubled youth, who seem to be out on the ledge, is that they will be lucky enough, and wise enough to find their way before something terrible happens.

     As much as I worry for the two-week period before Lindsay has to report for jail, I believe her sentence may be a much-needed wake-up call. There’s nothing like some time alone with your thoughts to give you some perspective. The ordered Rehab after going to jail, will hopefully help her find a way to cope with life’s pressures without resorting to drug and alcohol abuse.

     I doubt Lindsay has had much time alone to think since she began her career at the early age of three. It’s amazing these child stars ever grow up at all, given their strange, contrived excuse for a childhood, which cuts short the much-needed, carefree period most of us take for granted, when our biggest worry is whether that ” special girl” will invite us to her birthday party.

     As a fellow lesbian and experienced party girl myself, I know all the excuses and pitfalls for misbehaving. I also know the damage it does to your family, friends and your own self-esteem. The associated depression that often accompanies alcoholism and drug abuse, as both symptom and cause, serves to complicate an already precarious situation. If you’re lucky and not to far down the road to destruction, you can actually regroup and simply stop the behavior. For most people however, they need professional help, once they have grown physically dependant to their drug of choice.

     I’ve heard numerous hateful remarks about Lindsay’s recent brush with the law. For the life of me I find myself wondering why anyone feels such scorn for another human being. Granted Lindsay seems lucky and pampered to many, so onlookers are quick to judge her in a negative way, perhaps believing she should be completely happy since she has fame and fortune. What they are missing is that all the money in the world won’t fix what’s broken, and may even add to her problems.

     I don’t see myself as a gossip columnist and rarely weigh in on this type of thing, but I wanted to send some positive words of support to her, to balance some of the negative blog articles I’ve read. Like the vicious girls in the movie “Mean Girls,” that Lindsay starred in early on, the media and many critics have been just as mean with their lack of compassion for Lindsay’s plight.

     It’s doubtful Lindsay will read this, but I’ll send it out to the universe just in case she does…Good luck Lindsay. I hope the jail time gives you time to take stock and make a commitment to be healthier. I hope the trip to Rehab will be helpful in assisting you to make the decision to move on and be a positive role model for all the others sure to go through the same heartache you are now suffering.

     I know first-hand about partying too much and being out of balance. It leads to a very scary place. I hope your time on this frightening path will be cut short by this “wake-up” call. Best wishes! You are a beautiful and talented woman who deserves happiness. I hope you find it!

Is It True – You Can’t Go Home Again April 14, 2010

     Yesterday I was going through a box of stuff looking for an old address book when I found myself lingering over cards my ex gave me. The cards were sweet and seem to mean more to me now than they probably did at the time. The promises of undying love and growing old together haunt me today, like the perfect rainy day that forces you inside to think even when you try to resist the urge, for fear you’ll dredge up strong feelings you’d rather not endure.

     Bravery is not something I know much about. What can I say. I write bad poetry and wallow in the “perfect” moments I have been lucky enough to experience, like the way she cocked her head and uttered the words I love you for that first time, with a catch in her throat and shiny, wet eyes. These are the things I choose to experience as often as I can, when I slow down to a pace that does not swallow me whole.

     The tears eventually came as I remembered the good times we shared and how perfect our life together had been for so many years.  Like so many things in life, perspective has afforded me a chance to realize how truly happy I was, before the sex stopped and the finger-pointing began. I find myself contemplating that song by Cher, “if I could turn back time,” wondering how I could have sidestepped our breakup, saving us from that pain, from that loss.

     Knowing what I know now about the upcoming real estate bust and other factors that would eventually force my ex and I into opposing corners, I would do things differently. As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20. I hate what happened and worry we will never be friends. There is a hole in my heart where she once lived. I have tried to fill it with new love, alcohol and interesting hobbies. Unfortunately, this tactic only works for a short while, until I see a garage sale sign, reminding me of the one unique hobby we had and shared on every warm Saturday morning.

     The new love I’ve been lucky enough to find goes a long way towards healing that homesick feeling I experience whenever I think about my old life. I suspect we are forever changed each time we walk away from a woman we truly love. I wonder if the saying, you can’t go home again, is true. I suspect that it is.

“I Just Wanna Be Friends” and Other Lesbian White Lies March 22, 2010

     Don’t shoot me over the title of this article! I know sometimes a lesbian pays a lot of sincere attention to you in the name of friendship, with no ulterior motives. I also know the other side of the story, about lesbos who say they want to be friends, then a few days, hours, or even minutes later, you end up having to push her away, as she comes in for a surprise kiss on the mouth. Not all surprises are good, are they? Yikes! But then, some sneak attacks are mind-blowing, with a capital M and a capital B. Yummy!

     Believe me, I am no goody, goody sitting in judgment. Shenanigans is my middle name, but I had it changed for obvious reasons. My point is, that lesbians seem unique in their receptivity to lovers and friends, with them being interchangeable and often appearing, disappearing, and reappearing like weird, horny rabbits in a magician’s act. You know what I mean, right?

     We have ex’s we break up with, then sleep with again. There are best friends we have sex with, then reject, as only friends. There are friends who are romantically involved, who we pray will break up with their girlfriends, so we can jump their bones. Even in business we can’t seem to follow that time- tested, albeit, crude golden rule…”don’t sh _ t where you eat.” We often meet business associates we suspect are lesbos, that we lust for, but are afraid to confront. Sometimes we follow our head and keep our distance, and other times, we follow our heart, risking our livelihood.  Add about fifty other strange scenarios to this twisted list, and you might have covered about half the pairings that lesbians conjure up in their imagination. Chaucer would be proud. If you don’t know him, then look him up under Canterbury Tales, and you’ll see what I mean. Who says literature can’t be fun, with those English people preoccupied with the pleasures of the flesh, jumping in and out of the sack with anybody, anywhere, anytime.

     I actually decided to count the times a so-called friend has made a pass at me, one who declared her friendship loudly, claiming no other romantic interest at the time. Over two decades of being “out,” I have had eight, “friendly” lesbian friends come on to me, who had no supposed romantic intentions towards me. Please don’t ask me how many times I’ve done the same thing in reverse. I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, and yes I resent your inference. HA! Like I said earlier, shenanigans, my middle name, need I say more?

     In the interest of defending lesbians and their lack of willpower as it relates to friends and lovers, I will state my case simply and succinctly, for a change, by saying, SO WHAT? How can I fault anyone for going for what they want, as long as they don’t leave too many victims in their path. If you have the guts or bravado to stake your claim and put yourself out there in the name of love, I say go for it! That doesn’t mean I justify making a play for your best friend’s girlfriend or a straight woman with eight kids and a loving husband. Don’t get me wrong. Even I draw the line in the sand where kids and good marriages are at stake.

     I wish I could end this blog on an original note, but the truth is, a golden oldie says it best when they suggest that, all is fair in love and war. I guess I have to agree.

Alert the Media – Lesbians Lie on Dating Questionnaire March 19, 2010

     Yesterday I received an angry email from a lesbo who was upset with me because the matchmaker service sent her a profile she wasn’t happy with. She claimed the girl was heavy, according to the picture she sent out, and that she had indicated she wanted a slim girl. No worries if you’re reading this, as it isn’t you I’m talking about. I promise. Everybody asks for photos. And there are well over one hundred women involved in the matchmaker service now.

     Worried about a possible glitch in my system, I checked the questionnaire completed by her match  to see what might have happened. The lesbo in question reported that she was less than ten pounds overweight on the questionnaire, which I assume would not bother many people, even the athletes in the group who actually know their body mass index number by heart. 

     Evidently from the photo, the lesbo in question looked larger than ten pounds overweight to her match, the one I’ll call the irrational complainer for simplicity sake, and to protect the innocent. Maybe it’s true that photos add ten pounds, in which case, even if the participant in question is telling the truth, she may look larger in the photo, say twenty pounds overweight, if you add the ten pounds she admitted to on the questionnaire, and then another ten pounds blamed on the photography medium.

     I wrote the angry lesbian back and explained that the only guide I could use when matching people up, was the form filled out. Short of weighing participants in like a Weight Watchers group, there is no way to defend the system from people who are less than truthful, or maybe blissfully ignorant. If you ask ten lesbos how they view their weight, you’d probably be surprised by their answers. If you were to ask me if I were ten pounds overweight, I’d probably answer a big NO. But my best friend who runs marathons and works out 20 hours a week would probably say I could lose twenty pounds. Can you say Subjective.

     Personally, I am 5’7″ inches tall and weigh in at 148 on a good day, and 157 or so if you check on me in early January after the holidays. It takes me a month to recover from all the decadent holiday desserts I love. Don’t say I never told you a secret.

     Compared to a triathlete, I am probably fat. If you look up my weight on doctor’s charts, I’m considered healthy at 148. If you asked a 200 lb. woman, she’d say I’m skinny. So, the problem is obvious, if you think about it.

     I hate to be the one to tell you if you haven’t already figured it out, but women can be deceitful when dating. They lie about their age, their weight, and some of their dirty little habits, like smoking or heavy drinking. I have received over 100 questionnaires in the past three months and guess what, there is not a single heavy drinker in the bunch, if everyone answered truthfully. What are the odds? In case it’s early and you’re a little slow or preoccupied. That last remark was sarcastic.

     So wake up and smell the coffee already. This is a FREE service designed to help lesbos meet women with similar interests and priorities. The system is not fool-proof. And did I mention that it’s FREE. Yes, FREE, as in you spend no money, and I work like a dog for you. Maybe I’m a sucker, or maybe I’m trying to give back. Whatever. It’s still a good deal, no matter how you look at it.

     I know I’m being defensive, but I work for FREE, so I have a right. The complainer seemed more intent on bitching about a photo and totally ignored the MANY shared interests (I won’t say the number to protect the innocent), and common life priorities they shared. I felt like maybe I should require her ID to make sure I wasn’t dealing with a heterosexual man who only cared about her body. Maybe, what I should require for participation on the site is some proof that you aren’t a plastic, superficial person with more interest in the size of a woman’s ass than her heart. If anyone has any ideas about how I can screen out such women, please send me a comment, as I am open to your suggestions. Can you say MEAN? I know. I have my moments. I just expect more from lesbos, I guess.

     If matchmaker participants lie on the questionnaire, either intentionally or unintentionally, I can’t help it. That’s life in the big city, so buck up and don’t be such a baby. People lie to themselves, the IRS, and to each other. Why do we expect them to be perfectly truthful on an anonymous form? Hello? If you call yourself “sexy lady” and send a questionnaire into cyber space to find a date, with nothing but an email to be traced, do you expect you’ll be caught in a little white lie.

     Women rationalize such things. It’s not a complete lie to their way of thinking. I weighed 130 lbs my senior year in high school and that’s the last time I weighed. Or, does a bottle of wine per night mean I’m a heavy drinker? No way. They drink more than that in France by noon. Plus, wine doesn’t count, since it’s not hard liquor. Enough said. We all rationalize things to ourself so we won’t jump off bridges or take entire bottles of sleeping pills.

     About a year ago when I left my partner of eight years, I got on two popular dating sites. First, before I could even complain about the service, I had to cough up good money to join. Then I surfed hundreds of photos of “supposed” single lesbians, only to find out that half of them were inactive. To this day, my partner still gets emails from our old dating site, even though she’s been inactive for a year. (or that’s what I want to believe…wink)

     To say I was frustrated by the lack of sensitivity and response from the other dating services would be a huge understatement. I’d spend hours surfing the site, selecting women with similar interests, then writing them a witty, well thought out email, only to have very few of them answer. I know, maybe it’s me. But, I’m just saying. My single friends had similar, bad experiences. Even if you consider how obnoxious I am and factor me out of the equation as unattractive and terribly flawed at best, the system was not perfect for my nice and gorgeous, single friends, either.

     All I could assume by the lack of response I received at the time, is that, one of two things happened.  Either they did not receive my email, or they were too rude to answer me, even to reject me. Did I give up? NO. I met my girlfriend on one of those sites. Was I frustrated from the lack of response I received from the “so-called” active females posted on the site? That’s a big YES! Was I shocked how different they seemed in person after chatting with them online or comparing them to their photo? You better believe it!

     When I started LesbianWinkMatchmaker.com, my intention was to create a site run by lesbians, for lesbians, where common courtesy ruled, where the dating pool was active, or as active as possible with constant attention to deleting inconsiderate or inactive participants out of the mix. By eliminating photos, I hoped to bypass the meat-market aspect of  dating services, realizing that photos lie and that at the very least, common interests and shared life priorities are still the cornerstone of a good relationship.

     Anyone who believes they’ll do better in a dark bar, or being fixed up by friends, should skip using my service, or at the very least, take a math class and study probability, in particular. In that dark bar, after a few drinks, you can see who you’re getting physically, right? No worries about her misrepresenting her weight. Seeing is believing, right? It reminds me of that bar joke about how all the ugly women go home by midnight. Wink. If you don’t get the joke, I’m not going to be the one to explain it to you.

     We all know that in a noisy bar, you really get to know each other on a spiritual level. And we’ll all agree that over drinks, after nine months without sex, we’d never, ever, misrepresent ourself for the sake of sex. NOT! In my darker, lonelier, hours, after months of sleeping alone, I’d probably have agreed to parachute from a plane or wrestle alligators if I thought it would land her in my bed. No, I’m not proud to admit this. But, don’t kid yourself. Desperation is a strong motivator.

     With this introduction service being free and as personalized and careful about lesbos tender feelings as is humanly possible, I’m filing this blog in the “You can’t please all of the people all of the time,” category. Good luck out there today. I do HOPE you find true love. We all deserve it. Even the complainers.

     I’ll stop bitching now and go take my medication. WINK!

The Push and Pull of Lesbian Relationships March 11, 2010

     Why is it that we are always pushing or pulling in relationships, forever jockeying for position? Is every connection with another human being always about a power play? Can two people ever really commit to being equal parties, both equally responsible and present in the partnership?

     Enough questions, you must be thinking. Tell me something meaningful or shut up, already. Okay. I’ll tell you what my experience tells me.

     Every relationship is defined by implied roles that all parties agree to, either consciously or subconsciously. We all expect something out of every relationship we get involved in, whether it is a friendship, business liaison, or something more intimate. In the beginning, as we try to establish the rules of the relationship, we pursue the other person, hungry for approval and some sign of interest from them. It is no surprise that every human being on the planet has to chase down what they want in life, making themselves vulnerable in order to communicate their interest to the other party. Essentially, you are trying to pull them to you.

     Two lesbos intent on engaging in the tango of romance, most certainly engage in a type of push and pull as they establish the boundaries of the relationship and fight for just the right dose of support and distance, ultimately wanting the best of both the single and married worlds. This ongoing dynamic explains the push and pull we all experience as we try and live together in harmony, while maintaining a certain desired degree of independence.  Whenever I feel stifled or hurt, I am quick to push them away to distance myself from the offender. By the same token, whenever my girlfriend pulls away from me, I find myself catering to her more, and trying to “make nice,” always anxious about something I may have said or done to alienate her.

     The push and pull of any relationship can become exhausting unless the two of you quickly work out the rules of play, so that you can relax some and stop posturing twenty-four hours a day. If you’re lucky, you and your beloved will eventually fall into a rhythm that suits you both, where you’ll enjoy the support you need from a loving a partner, without losing the independence you need to feel like you are your own person. Problems arise, when you or your partner are not secure enough to let the other one have the needed space to follow their dreams and enjoy the things they value in life.

     We all need time alone. How much time we need depends on the person. Giving each other space can cure a lot of problems. It’s no surprise that most of us appreciate our true love that much more after we’re away from her for a few days. Perspective is everything. How you feel about her when you’re apart for a few  days, says a lot about how important she is to you, and whether she is worth all the fuss.

When Your Lover Has Secrets – What to Do March 10, 2010

     One night after my girlfriend thought I had gone to bed, I walked down the stairs and into the living room again to get my cell phone to charge. As I entered the room, she jumped sky high and swung something behind her back so I wouldn’t see. At first glance it looked like a cooking pot. I had caught her, but doing what, or with what exactly, I am not sure. Fortunately for me, I don’t think she could hide another woman behind her back in a pot. I know. I’m pathetic, but you have to be thankful for what you can.

     When I inquired about her jumping and what was behind her back, she giggled nervously and said nothing. Trying to not make too much of it, I tried to spy a better look to see what it could be. It was definitely a big cooking pot. That information only served to confuse me more.

     Unfortunately, knowing she was trying to hide a pot from me did nothing but intrigue me further. Was she a witch, intent on brewing up some potion each night after I went to bed? Was she doing something really romantic and sweet that would make me feel guilty for interrogating her. Was she hiding something in the pot. That would actually make sense, because she knows I don’t cook, and therefore do not look in pots. She could hide anything in the kitchen and it would be safe for years, as long as she did not put it in the refrigerator, which was definitely my turf.

     Did she have a habit she did not want me to know about? Was she addicted to something and hiding it in pots, to be retrieved each night after I went to bed. Was she hiding photos of a secret lover. Or maybe she was making me something, or keeping a journal she did not want me to see.

     When she finally came to bed, I could not resist asking her twenty questions. Or maybe it was fifty questions. I ask her if it was edible? She said, “you could eat it if you wanted to.” I ask her what fruit it most resembled. She said a pineapple. I asked her if our dogs would eat it if it was offered to them. She answered yes. I asked her how much it weighed. She said nine ounces. I asked her if it grew on trees. She said no. I asked her if it came from the ground. She answered not exactly, but I was getting warmer. She said it was three words, two words started with an r and one word started with an f. It was a r_____   f____  r_____ .

     I don’t know what to think, but I am intrigued. No, maybe it’s paranoia. Whatever the correct word is for my feelings, there is one thing that is certain. She has my attention. And stop scolding me already, as I have earned the right to be paranoid. My father actually taped my mother’s phone conversations at one point, believing she might be having an affair, which she never did. It’s kind of ironic, since he always cheated on her constantly. So as you can see, it’s not hard to get my imagination going in the wrong direction.

     I don’t like secrets. They worry me. When I was a child I remember secrets usually erupted into something scary, like sleeping pods that exploded to life, when touched by sunlight. When I was a kid, my parents tried to keep the secret we were moving to Germany from me and my brother for as long as possible, worried how we’d react and trying to minimize our anxiety. But when we were forced to get all those immunizations, they had to fess up.

     One thing I know for sure is that secrets undermine your relationship if they aren’t immediately resolved, as something truly wonderful, like a surprise birthday party or a special gift. I know I’ll never really know what I walked in on, or what she had hidden behind her back. Short of wrestling it away from her, which I would never do, there was no way to know what happened the other night. She could make up that three word answer on the spot and show up with it later to appease my curiosity. That’s the problem with a smart girlfriend. She can fool you, and you might never know.

     I guess we all have our secrets.  If we’re truly lucky, the biggest secrets we hide relate to surprise parties and special gifts. Being the cornball that I am, I’ll share a secret with you right now. No matter how paranoid you are, or how much you worry about the secrets you sense she keeps from you, there is nothing you can do about it. Sometimes it is better to live in ignorant bliss.

Lesbians Are the New Black, I Think? March 9, 2010

     Every time I turn around it seems there is some reference to lesbianism. Did you see that kiss replayed at the Academy Award Show on Sunday night between Sandra Bullock and Meryl Streep? What is it with the lesbian kiss that has everybody so turned on and inclined to use it as a gimmick, etc… Remember when every TV show seemed to have two women kissing during Sweeps Week? And we can’t forget Madonna and Britney’s big kiss. Hello!

     For me, watching two women kiss has always been a turn on, so I guess it seems funny to me ,that now everybody else has jumped on the bandwagon, with the “heteros” quick to milk it for promotion purposes. We all know that men fantasize about women together. I don’t know what changed exactly in society, but I am liking the change for the most part, except the part about men drooling over the idea of us together. Yuck!

     Are lesbos being objectified? That’s a big, YES! Do we care if we are? I guess it depends on the vehicle being used. When I see two straight girls kissing in Porn, with their long nails and their lack of obvious feeling for each other, I always cry foul, and swear to never watch it ever again. I’m not a fan of porn. Most lesbos I know, aren’t. But if you force me to watch a heartfelt kiss between two women in a movie with a plot and some good acting, then I’m there in spades.

     Politics aside, lesbians, or at least straight girls impersonating lesbians, are starting to claim a piece of the pie in business and Hollywood. Who would have ever thought Ellen would be a Cover Girl selling cosmetics? Not me. She’s made looking average, in that girl next door kind of way, something worth celebrating. Women relate to her on a friendly level, gay and straight. Bravo Ellen.

     Now that Hollywood sees that lesbos are bankable, I expect to see a lot more Ellens popping up on the scene. Sorry, Ellen, I did not mean to infer in anyway that there are multitudes of fabulous lesbians with your talent or perseverance out there. After all, Ellen is a big part of the reason this door has opened so wide for us.

     What I still haven’t decided is whether I prefer lesbians getting all this attention over something as silly as a kiss, when we have such bigger issues to tackle. Boring stuff like equal rights are such a drag to talk about, when it is so much easier and more entertaining to focus on the lesbo liplock. Like all great romance, the world’s fascination with lesbians has started with a kiss.

Beware the Lesbian Tease and Being Punked March 2, 2010

     One day when you least expect it, and you’ve let your guard down, a woman will get involved with you under the guise of friendship, and your life will become complicated and confusing. This is not always a bad thing, but it can be. Remember, if you’re feeling uneasy about her, there’s probably a basis for your anxiety.

     There are several variations on the “lesbian tease” theme. Some women are straight women who enjoy the ego boost afforded them by a lesbian or two at their disposal, on call at all times. This type of tease realizes that you never know when you’ll need help with projects around the house or a last-minute companion to attend some function or party. She assumes that lesbians can be led around by their nose, once they’re hooked.  I know how this woman thinks, because I am embarrassed to admit that this has happened to me a couple of times in my life, before I came to my senses.

     An added benefit for the straight girl hanging out with a lesbian girlfriend is that hubby rarely blinks, as he believes there’s no way his beloved wife would be interested in a lesbo, since they don’t have the right equipment to be a true romantic threat. Men can be so clueless sometimes. Hello!

     Completely aware of her husband’s mindset, the hetero “lesbian tease” knows that her husband’s arrogance keeps him blissfully blind and non- threatened. She is keenly aware of the dynamics of the threesome and works them to her advantage, while basking in the glow of her lady love’s attention, and being legitimized by her husband’s or boyfriend’s presence.

     The second type of “lesbian tease” is the lesbian who sits a little too close, touches your arm frequently and bats those eyelashes in your direction with relative ease and confidence. Hair twirling and eating fruit slowly with purpose, also works to lure many unsuspecting lesbos into their game.

     I know I should resist, but the tango of emotions is so intoxicating, that I find myself lured in, justifying my passive participation as harmless, as long as I keep my hands to myself. A true tease  who has mastered her art is more about the seduction and less about any true relationship. She wants to know you want her, but has little interest in following through. You should be able to tell the difference between a woman sho is truly interested in a romantic relationship and one who wants to flirt, with no sincere desire to consummate the union.

     For fun, you can test her if you’re unattached. A sloppy wet kiss will tell the tale. If she darts away in a hasty retreat after that kiss, she’s just playing with you. If she lingers in the kiss, looking into your eyes and pulling you close, then she’s interested in a fling at least, and possibly more. As long as you know what her agenda is, then you’re safe to decide how to proceed, given your situation.

     Being vulnerable to the charms of women is the lesbian state. What can you say? Distance really helps in situations like the above. If you feel like you’re being played, you probably are. Then all you have to decide for yourself is whether the play is fun and harmless, or whether it is detrimental to your well-being in some way. Good luck as you try to decide for yourself. Just remember that being teased is not a spectator sport. You can’t blame her when you keep showing back up.

Leash Your Lesbian, If You Dare February 25, 2010

     To say I don’t like living on a short leash is an understatement. Maybe the word indignant describes the way I feel about someone or something tied around my neck to restrain me. I gave up on Corporate America because of my last irrational boss in 2006, and I will always give up on any woman who tries to control me like she owns me.

     The simple fact of the matter is that I am uncontrollable for the most part. I’m not bragging, as this stubborn aspect to my personality has caused me much heartache. Maybe we all want the safety of the box at times, so we aren’t constantly on guard and trying to figure out how to get out. Can you say, exhausting. Maybe the trick to keeping someone like me in line is to make the box so damned attractive and flexible, that I never really know I’m residing inside it.

     I see lesbians on leashes. They seem happy, knowing exactly how far they can go. They smile knowing that their owner/wife/girlfriend is holding on to them to keep them from running amuck, to keep them safe. Many of these lesbians appear to be at peace. God bless them. I envy them their bliss. If I could, I would go in for some rewiring for my own good. But then, I’m not an appliance and I am philosophically opposed to taking drugs that strong.

     When I first came out of the closet in upstate New York, one of the first things that happened to me could have been prevented, had the “other” lesbo been on a shorter leash. I was out in the “young” lesbo bar located in Albany, New York, in my twenties, giddy over the girl sitting next to me. She flirted shamelessly and ended up with her arm thrown around my neck after a couple of drinks, kissing me. We had met only an hour earlier. Don’t say it. I was young and thought the word whore was a compliment, as clear evidence of my irresistability.

     At the time, I assumed the girl kissing me was single. She was there alone, smooching on me, telling me everything a girl longs to hear. Then the next thing I knew, a woman I had never seen before, comes up to me yelling, and throws a punch at me. Imagine my shock. For one, I didn’t know girls were allowed to hit. And secondly, I didn’t understand why she was trying to hit me. My paradise of a few moments earlier was crumbling. Yikes!

     As the other girls at the bar pulled this wild lesbo off me, the ugly truth became apparent. The woman I was in a liplock with evidently was two- timing her girlfriend with me. I was an innocent at the time, but Ellie, her girlfriend was intent on bringing me up to speed. I can still see the venom in her eyes and hear the curse words in my head. That was the first time I had ever even heard anyone say the “C” word out loud. My mother would have fainted. I almost did myself.

     Maybe in this one case, Lori, the girl I had liked, would have benefitted from being on a shorter leash. But the truth is, if you have to leash your lesbian, then it’s time to rethink the type of partner she is. If she’s prone to wandering off, no leash will hold her in place. Of course, it is only human nature to try to hold on to what you think is yours. But maybe, that’s where the error in the thinking starts.

     It is really quite freeing to realize that you have little control over another person, and that she will stay as long as she WANTS to, and not a minute more. Putting a leash around her neck will probably only serve to make her resist the restraints, that she may actually appreciate without the evidence of the leash to remind her that she’s tied down. But what do I know. The mystery is always in the metaphor.