Vegas?
Written by missstress on August 13, 2008 – 2:12 pm -So my first venture to Vegas was pretty tame. Granted I went with the significant other but still. This time I’ve decided to venture out to the Fremont area. When I envision Vegas I think of all the lights. First time I went I stayed on the strip and was disappointed. I saw a lame show called Bite that consisted of topless vampires. Yes it was as bad as you are probably thinking. This time I really want a what happens in Vegas…type moment. I’m calling it Operation Sex Drugs and Rock n Roll just because I couldn’t come up with a better name. I am definitely going to Forty Deuce to see some good ol’ Burlesque. I’m a huge fan. That is my top priority. After that comes getting inebriated. I’m going roughly in October. I am open to recommendations and what stays in Vegas type stories. I’m talking fetish clubs, seedy underbelly type things. I want a memorable time. So any places you recommend are welcome!
Posted in Uncategorized |
AND THEN THERE WERE TWO - Chapter Four - The Taste of Tingles
Written by vibrantviolets on August 12, 2008 – 6:41 am -This is the fourth chapter of a serialized true story of a girl, her man, and the female lover he introduced her to. Missed the first chapters in the story? AND THEN THERE WERE TWO: Chapter One, Chapter Two and Chapter Three.
I have a tendency to forget the endings of things…books, movies, TV shows. This is a strange inherited trait from my mother. On one level, I think it is a trick of the mind so that I can re-visit things time and again which I love or find moving and still experience an element of surprise. But also, I have learned that for as much as my analytical brain determines so much of my day to day existence that when I become involved with something driven by or experienced through the heart and body, it all resonates in a sensory realm. I can’t quote poetry or passages of a play or half the time remember the author of a favorite book not because of a lack of care, quite the opposite; because whatever it is has shifted my emotions around leaving an imprint on my heart.
The same is true with people. Certain specific details remain but after a meaningful exchange, I am left not with what travels through the concrete mind but rather the sensations and emotions carried, held close and dear within in my body. While my past experiences were varied and absolutely always from my heart, I knew I was entering into a different space. This romance, this exchange, this path, would continue beyond the immediate opportunity of the present evening. In spite of the true totality of love I felt for Louis in every dark and light cavern within my being…I had a life, even if small or brief, a life none-the-less to live with this woman.
For as much as Gemma and I were a sparking roller coaster of word-play and conversation when she joined Louis and I for dinner — or while sitting on the wicker bench of Marcus’ garden — or even with Marcus when he arrived home that night — as soon as the bedroom door closed behind me, words lost their place. There simply wasn’t room for them. Only the sounds of an old house settling in for the night, the wind tickling leaves outside, and the whisper of clothes slipping from our bodies floated around the room.
When I think of that first night with Gemma, it comes in flashes much like a succession of cut-aways in a film. When I stop for a moment, I can still smell her skin, taste the last of the red wine on her tongue, or feel the trail of tingles the entire length of my spine left by her fingers. My right cheek will still glow with the warmth from her inner thigh. The nape of my neck shivers at the flash of her palm slowly gliding along my back until her fingers playfully curled themselves around locks of my hair. Goosebumps prick my flesh with the memory my belly carries of Gemma’s eyelashes fluttering across my skin as she sprinkled kisses over my tummy…
Our rhythm moved us through the hours that night in true grace. Women are bold, unafraid, do not shy away from and seem to inherently understand the joy and thrill found in slowness. This is not to say that a fierce, quick taking of the body doesn’t have an important place within the scheme of things- of course it does. But, with her body, Gemma listened to mine and we took our time to understand that conversation, a conversation that grew more excited and intense with each new discovery, each new taste. Ours was not a goal motivated experience. The passion, the desire was deepened by the willingness to explore and sink below the waves in order to exist in the roaring quiet of how I, Violet, and she, Gemma, were waking up the other’s beating body.
Waterloo appeared before me and I climbed out of the car. Even though it was only 10am, I needed a nap and Louis, Louis, Louis… would be home from his business trip the next day, weakening my knees with a kiss of tingles all his own.
XOXO
V.
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HOTEL BLISS GUESTS CAN BECOME V.’S FRIEND BY LOGGING INTO THE HOTEL AND CLICKING HERE. Want to meet other bi-girls in a private, supportive, sweet environment? CLICK HERE for a membership application to join Hotel Bliss.
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Posted in Uncategorized |
THE HOTEL BLISS BOUTIQUE IS OPEN!
Written by Bliss Warrior on August 8, 2008 – 10:40 am -Ladies,
The Bliss Warrior Team is proud to announce the grand opening of the Hotel Bliss Boutique.
Dedicated to supporting female artisans, the Boutique will be featuring handmade one-of-a-kind goods at exceptional prices. All sellers are members of Hotel Bliss, so if you have any questions about an item, feel free to contact them and ask them about their amazing work.
Some of the new items on sale now at the Hotel Bliss Boutique:
BY EVOKATEUR:

ONLY $18.00 PLUS SHIPPING! CLICK HERE TO READ MORE.
BY SNARFF:

DOUBLE ENDED GLASS DILDO BY SNARFF $150.00 PLUS SHIPPING
CLICK HERE TO READ MORE ABOUT THIS GORGEOUS PRODUCT.
And so much more, including hair accessories, adult toys, jewelry, massage, and handbags!
CLICK HERE TO SEE ALL OF THE NEWEST PRODUCTS AT THE BOUTIQUE.
CLICK HERE TO MEET THE ARTISTS - REMEMBER BUY AMERICAN, AND BUY BI!
Interested in selling your goods at the Hotel Bliss Boutique?
If you are already a member of Hotel Bliss, log -in and then CLICK HERE or visit the FAQ link in the home bar and click on How To Become a Seller. Once you are sure you qualify to be a seller, fill out the seller application by CLICKING HERE.
If you are not a member of Hotel Bliss, you must become one first to be a seller at the boutique. CLICK HERE to fill out the membership application.
SUPPORT YOUR BI SISTERS! BUY THERE HANDMADE PRODUCTS AT HOTEL BLISS. ALL YOU NEED IS A PAYPAL ACCOUNT.
XOXOXOXO
BLISS WARRIOR
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She Danced Into My Fairytale - Part Three - A Baby Bi-Girl Shares Her First Time
Written by junglejane on July 28, 2008 – 9:21 pm -Missed Parts One and Two of She Danced Into My Fairytale? CLICK HERE to read Part One and CLICK HERE to read Part Two.

Saturday morning the ballerina was the first thing on my mind. My man and I had our coffee and breakfast together and he headed out to work in the yard. I took a walk down to Danya’s. I had to talk to a girl. I was overflowing from the night before. My face was blushed and I was silly with excitement for this human. I slipped into Danya’s little house and fell onto a pile of pillows on her floor. She knew.
She put the water onto boil for tea and told me how sweet the two of us looked next to the fire the night before. “I knooooow,” I said. “I wanna go see her now. She’s soooo pretty and magical and electric.”
“I knew it,” she said. “I told you.”
“You were sooo right! How did you know?”
“I just know,” she said with heavy eyes. “Pussy is incredible you know? It’s addicting. Men kill for it. It’s like a temple. You’ll want to worship there.”
“Oh, God, D., I wanna go see her now,” I said hugging the pillows. “But I have to be cool. Shit! How do I be cool?”
“Yeah, nobody likes heavy things,” she said wisely. “Here!” She threw a stack of Goddess Tarot Cards at me and said, “Shuffle these and pick one.”
“I don’t want to,” I said not wanting to jinx anything.
“Do it,” she demanded. “The cards never lie.”
She was the boss. I did as she said and picked the quiet goddess card. She told me to be peaceful and meditative. “Pick another,” she said. I picked the courage goddess, Freyja. Freyja told me to be bold and brave and take the chance. Freya rode on a heavenly chariot pulled by cats. “There you go! That’s the one,” Danya said with a wink and a stir of her tea. “Go ahead and pick one more, you can never pick too many.” I picked the protection goddess. She told me not to worry. She advised me to take a moment to breathe, be silent, and “be cool”. Do what is natural and do not hesitate for the goddesses got my back.
Just then, Danya’s sweet friend Pamela showed up and wanted to go for a swim in the pools. We walked down the path, untied our sarongs and dove in. We practiced a little silence like the first card said and let the cold spring water rejuvenate our nude bodies.
In my silence, I did not notice the ballerina coming down the trails. I looked up and there she was, smiling right in front of me. The look on my face was priceless. I couldn’t hold her gaze; I had to look away. She was with her man and they were heading up to the Queen’s Pool. Danya invited her to come back to join us when she was done. I could barely look at her, when I did she was smiling at me. I was floating on water. Danya flashed me her instigator grin and clued Pamela in on the story so she didn’t feel left out. “How exiting!” she gasped with the prettiest grin. She confessed that she too had a crush on her girlfriend. How lucky I was to be sitting with such classy, sexy, elder ladies who understand and love women so thoroughly?!
I was enjoying our conversation when the ballerina snuck up from behind, sat right up against me, and kissed my cheek. I leaned into her and fell right into the erotic energy left over from the night before. I was in Heaven. Danya and Pamela felt like taking naps so I suggested that we all four take a trip to the “Dragon Tree” in the “Groovy Grass.” I decided to bring a picnic, some polish, some smoke, a blanket and pillows. Who could resist a plan like that? Not the ballerina.
We gathered up our things and headed toward the tall iron wood tree that stands solid like the spine of a good man while her branches curve down as if cradling the earth below. Under her branches, the ladies got comfy for their naps.
You know I wasn’t sleepy. The ballerina wasn’t sleepy either. I untied my sarong and ran out into the bouncy field. I threw myself onto my back feeling like a little girl. She came running after and fell next to my side. Two beautiful nude women under the sun, invisible in the grass. Our bodies connected. My arm under her neck. Her head on my shoulder. Her arm around my waist. Her leg over my legs. She wrapped herself around me and a blast of masculinity shot through my body in a way I had never experienced before. I knew I had a masculine side, but I had never felt it in its entirety until she curled up next to me the way I curl up to my man.
I kissed her head and each one of her fingertips. Whispers of woooow were repeated. Heavy breathing and neck kisses and cheek kisses. Her fingers were so small. The same size of my own. We sat up and looked at each other and talked about how wonderful the night before had been and how perfect the moment felt. We gazed into each other’s eyes and fell back into our grassy nest.
I propped my head up with my hand so that I could get a proper view of her perfect breasts. I could still taste them from the night before. I squeezed her nipples between my thumb and finger and told her how immaculate they were. I placed the tip of my tongue on the tip of her breast and fell into infancy as I sucked her perked dark pink nipple into my mouth. A fantasy, no longer a fantasy.
I opened my mouth and explored her entire breast with my tongue. I started to feel like I was getting lost in my own bliss, so I looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry, I just can’t help it. Is this all okay?”
“Of course,” she said. We both sat up to catch a breeze and to make sure that it was all really happening.
“It’s hot,” I said.
“Well, yeah,” she says. “It’s hot, but…..of course, it’s hot.” We smile at each other and fall back into our grassy nest.
“I want to make love to you,” I said as I kissed her soft belly. She didn’t say anything. “We can take it as slow as you want, but that’s what I want. Maybe not today, maybe in the moonlight, but definitely here,” I said as I rub her down with my hands.
“Well, we’re here now,” she said with her hands covering her eyes. She then lifted her head up to see my face. My stomach flipped.
I brought my face up to meet hers. “I kissed a girl when I was thirteen years old, but I have never kissed a woman.”
“Me either,” she said and kissed my cheek. We leaned in and our lips met very softly. Slowly we pressed our lips together. Mmm. We moaned and released. We leaned in again, this time with open mouths so our tongues could meet. Her mouth felt so tiny.
I reached my hand down to touch her opening with the tip of my finger. She was dripping wet and I was melting. I kissed her and started sliding my finger inside of her soft body. I slipped all the way in and she smiled and covered her eyes. One slick investigating finger and I felt like I was fingering myself. I pulled out and added one. Two fingers. I pulled out and added one. Three fingers. She was soaking wet all over my hand. I was sliding in and out in a fast rhythm that slow danced with her hips. I didn’t want her to come so I pulled out my three fingers and held them up to the sunlight. They glistened. I spread them out to see the juice string from one finger to the other. Clear, slick, fucking gorgeous juice. She reached up to touch them and said, “Wooow, that’s beautiful.” I licked the juice off one of my fingers and had her lick her juice from the other two.
I sat up and began to kiss my way way down the ballerina’s belly. I reached the top of her sex and kissed the tip and took a deep breath of her beautiful scent and rubbed my cheaks against her inner thighs, and ran my nose down her clitoris and barely tasted her juice. Maybe she thought I was nervous so she told me to take my time. I wasn’t nervous at all, but in no way was I going to rush the experience.
She tasted like rose water. She smelled like a girl. I pressed my nose against her clitoris and she responded with pressure asking me to dive in. I ran the width of my tongue up from the base of her pussy to the hood of her clit and around and around. I licked the side of her labia up and down, fast and slow, and in small circles feeling her grow in my mouth. I licked the other side up and down, fast and slow and in little circles feeling her grown even larger. Then I sucked her entire clit into my mouth and did to her what I dream of a woman doing to me.
She tried to sit up to watch. I can understand that, but I wanted her relaxed on her back. So I slipped a finger inside. You know you can’t sit up with that. She fell back and I brought the girl to climax in my mouth. I pulled my mouth back to see her juice. Thicker this time. I opened my mouth so she could see her juice on my tongue. I kissed her deeply and fell into her arms.
She let me give like I wanted to give and held me like I needed to be held. We laid there in amazement and throbs of bliss. Catching our breath for more.
TO BE CONTINUED…
JUNGLE JANE
Posted in BISEXUALITY, RELATIONSHIPS, SEX, TRUE STORY, Uncategorized, baby bi-girls, bi-girls |
She Danced Into My Fairytale Part One A Baby Bi-Girl Shares Her First Time
Written by junglejane on June 26, 2008 – 6:31 pm -
Once upon a Thursday morning I took a walk down the river to Danya’s for some tea and some wise, ferocious loving from my elder sister and, possibly, a tour of Hotel Bliss. She had been anxious to check in and I came equipped with my computer and router so we could set up in front of the waterfalls and have Internet access. Oh, the beauty of the natural mixed with the virtual.
The day was blossoming like the Bella Dona and the morning glory. I walked with a crisp step up the colorful path of fervency. Smells of plumeria and gardenias laced my happy mood . I arrived to the sounds of women laughing. A smile graced my face. They were lounging around the pillow-drenched floor in the half-indoor, half-outdoor kitchen and community space. One of the ladies was a friend of Danya’s I had met only twice briefly. I thought she was gorgeous but very giggly. She spun across the room in a way that made me think that I could not possibly keep up. I had heard the stories of her advanced ballerina and yoga moves, so I admired her beauty, but kept a distance.
I met her again on Wednesday. This time she was sitting still in the lotus position and I seemed to recognize the look in her twinkling eyes. We talked about nothing in particular. I gave her a hug on my way out to be
polite. My politeness, to my surprised, vanished the moment she reached out. As if pushed by a ghost, I pulled her into me tight. “Mmmmm, thank you,” she said as I let her go. Thank you, I thought?
Danya had told me on a couple of different occasions that I had to meet this girl. “I have a feeling about the two of you,” she’d say. I really didn’t pay much attention, but on Wednesday I found out why Danya innately
knew we should meet.
To my delight the poised ballerina decided to join us for tea and my royal design tour. The ladies oohed and ahhhed beside me as I flipped through the pages of Hotel Bliss. They shared stories of their love for women. I
showed them the guest blog and they wanted to hear a sample of what the girls were writing. So I read aloud to them Jungle Jane’s first blog. They loved the story and it brought up childhood memories for both of the
women.
The ballerina shared the story of her first kiss as a child–with a girl. “We were practicing,” she said with huge smile and a shrug of her shoulder. We giggled about the importance we placed on the best friend status.
Miss Danya said, “Wow, Jungle Jane sounds lovely. You should try to meet her.” (Wink, wink.)
The ballerina said, “So if I go on the hotel I could meet her?”
I said, “Well, you can meet her right now. Hello!” I explained to them how the Hotel Bliss site came to be. How it was born out of pure love, teamwork, and a desire for honesty, community, and empowerment.
Miss D and the ballerina had their pretty heads cocked to the side with pretty smiles on their pretty faces while they listened to the story of Hotel Bliss in front of a picturesque waterfall setting. Sparks were flying and the river was flowing.
The ballerina led me back to her dwelling were we laid for the next couple of hours watching the sunset. We talked candidly about bisexuality, desires, and the natural beauty and magic of women. She lay beside me
in her beautiful blouse that just barely hid her perfect nipples and listened. She was so understanding and comfortable. She encouraged meto pray to the universe about the perfect female lover for myself. “Be
specific,” she said, but I never am. I do not have the capability of knowing what specifically is perfect for me. I never would have known to ask the universe for a ballerina that would come and go like a shooting star. The
universe does a much better job picking out the details. The details were finally lying right beside me. I was staring at her details. I know I was. I had to check myself and look away. I didn’t want to seem a like a creepy
dude, but she saw who I was and smiled.
The sun had set on us and it was time to venture home. To my delight, she wanted to walk me home with her headlamp shining the way. Gentle as she is, she didn’t want me to walk home in the dark. So as a thank you,
I introduced her to the groovy grass field. The groovy grass is a deep bouncy flowing field with an ocean view. Running through the grass is like bouncing on clouds. When lying down, you are invisible to the rest of the world. At night the sky is a cosmic theater, a boundless playground of wonder. She lay there next to me in the grass, under the stars and we reached for each other’s arms at the same time and her legs fell over onto me. We didn’t say much; the constellations did most of the talking - whispering the fairytale.
We finally made it back to my yurt. I walked to the middle of the room and reached up with both hand for the trapeze and let my weight drop. She walked right up to me and grabbed the bar too. We hung there face- to-face, chest-to-chest. I put my feet on the ground and twisted the rope above until I could twist it no more. “I feel like a ballerina when I do this,” I said. I lifted my foot to let the rope untwist us into a spin that she can do without the help of a trapeze. When we stopped spinning, I could feel her heart beating against mine. I let go of the bar quickly and began to tidy up the house nervously as a distraction from my pounding chest. I gave her a shy goodbye hug. “Sweet dreams, see you tomorrow.” I went to bed and dreamed about tomorrow.
TO BE CONTINUED….
- JUNGLE JANE
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IF YOU ENJOYED JUNGLE JANE’S WORK, YOU MAY ENJOY READING HER OTHER TRUE STORIES:
CRUSHING ON THE TAKEN GIRL: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A GIRL’S FIRST VIBRATOR: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
GETTING HER NUMBER: A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
A BABY BI-GIRL SHARES HER STORY
FROM OUR OTHER GUEST BLOGGERS:
V.
AND THEN THERE WERE TWO - A SERIALIZED TRUE STORY OF A GIRL, HER MAN, AND THE LOVER HE INTRODUCED HER TO.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE - A LITTLE PATIENCE FOR SPANKING THE INTELLECT
DAPHNE:
PLAYING WITH GENDER: DAPHNE STRAPS IT ON FOR HER MAN
TIE ME UP, TIE ME DOWN: A BI-GIRL SHARES HER FIRST S&M EXPERIENCE
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THANKS TO THE MARVELOUS, MAGICAL GIRLS WHO CAME OUT TO BRUNCH THIS WEEKEND IN HOLLYWOOD. WE COULDN’T HAVE HAD A MORE WONDERFUL AFTERNOON. THANK YOU FOR NOT BEING SHY, BUT FOR COMING OUT AND MEETING OTHER BI-GIRLS! XOXOXOXO
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Posted in Uncategorized |
Okay…
Written by freyaborn on June 19, 2008 – 9:55 am -So my first blog isn’t about sex. It isn’t about being bi(which i so love). Or even beauty, well not human at least. I’m sitting here at work(playing hooky) and looking out my window. I see fog. Not really very dense, not really even foggy. It’s more like looking out at a living thing, swirling, pulsing, moving to everything around and in it. The wind, the cars, the sun, all push, pull, and glare at the existence of this fog. And yet it persists, stubbornly sticking around to be pushed, pulled, and burned. And that’s kinda what makes it so beautiful. The wind, cars, and sun are what’s making this fog different, but none of these things are really noticed until one sees their affect on the fog. For a moment, the fog seems to have given up, but it’s back, and thicker than ever. It’s just there, doing it’s thing, tolerating the treatment it receives and swallowing it up and taking into itself and allowing said treatment to show it’s true beauty to the world. Or at least to those that are looking. I’ve seen fog in many different forms. As a kid, i’d walk a mile to the bus stop down a mostly gravel road in the early morning. During most of the winter there was fog, dense fog, thin wisps, the kind that moves around you as you walk, the kind that simply parts to allow you passage. After high school I spent some time in Santa Cruz. driving home to the Bonnie Doons(past the outskirts of town) i would drive down this most enjoyable road, all curves and little hills. This road ran from the beach(sea level, of course) to the foothills of some small mountains and would as such go through a cloud layer at night when the clouds had settled down on top of the mountains to rest for the night. Driving home with naught but headlights for illumination, I would pass though clouds. White, fluffy, looks kinda like cotton candy, clouds. It was an experience. The beach had it’s own fog. More like a ceiling or a blanket for the cove I drove by every night. It would touch the beach with just a little fog, not enough to even notice unless you had a flashlight, but gradually gathering the deeper you went with your tiny pinpoint of light. But this morning I saw something new that nature hiding in her skirts. This persistant, wonderfully liquid, free floating, body of water in the air. It just fascinates me, nature. I’m pretty much looking at the way water behaves in the ocean in the air outside my window. Eventually the sun will think it’s won and the fog will go back to Mother’s skirts, giggling in it’s knowledge that just as the sun will leave and come back, so will it, unfailingly enjoying it’s moments reeking havoc on the little humans that think they have an affect. Well there you have it: my very first ramblings in the hotel. Sorry if you expected more, but I wanted to write and here is where I felt safe to write such things. Next time I’ll write about sex. *__* ‘ ‘
Posted in Uncategorized |
BECAUSE SIMPLY SENSATIONAL SYBARITIC ASKED… RECIPE FOR RAW VEGAN VANILLA ICE CREAM
Written by Bliss Warrior on June 12, 2008 – 8:58 pm -
A couple of weeks ago I posted that I was making vegan ice cream out of coconut and cashews and the magical Sybaritic asked for the recipe. Well, in all of my craziness and travel, I did not get a chance to post this until now.
From the amazing cookbook, Raw Food, Real World by Kenney and Melngailis:
2 cups raw cashews, soaked in spring/filtered water for at least 4 hours (even better overnight)
2 cups coconut meat (yes, from the inside of a young Thai coconut - the ones with the white husks - 4-5 coconuts to be on the safe side)
1 cup filtered water
1 cup agave nectar
2 tablespoons vanilla extract
Seeds of 1/2 vanilla bean or 2 additional teaspoons of vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon of sea salt
In a Vita-Mix or high-speed blender, blend all the ingredients until completely smooth. (You may have to stop the blender - scrap the sides and blend again. It should be as smooth as a thick cream.) Chill thoroughly in the refrigerator and then process in an ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.
If you make it, let me know what you think!
Also good with a couple of fresh mint leaves and cacao nibs - mint chocolate chip!
XOXOXOXO
BLISS WARRIOR
Posted in Uncategorized |
Asking for Recommendations…
Written by blueabad on May 28, 2008 – 12:22 am -But there is no one that I’m comfortable talking to or looking at it around right now… I will probably get my boyfriend to read it at some point, but I sort of wanted it to be my own thing right now… So will you ladies help me, please? Recommendations are very welcome…..
My thought right now is to post w4mw under platonic, and also in w4w… very few women post in w4w, there seems to be more w4w in platonic that are actually curious about dating.. but here is my rough draft:
Bisexual, but mostly experience with guys. I find it hard to hit on women and timing was bad a few times so that a relationship wasn’t possible. I have more guy friends than girls, and semi-new to the area.
In open relationship with my boyfriend, exploring polyamory.. communicating is key in making dating multiple people work. I am more than willing to discuss this, since it is misunderstood and its easier than trying to explain it all… if you want to know, please ask… I chicken out from hitting on anyone oftentimes because I don’t want to mislead them.
Love to read, learn, be artsy, dye hair, etc. I read blogs on how to be green, thifty, and organize your house. I’m somewhat dorky and enjoy videogames, the Halos and DDR among my favorites
Looking for friends, down-to-earth, open-minded people… and romantically I’m very interested in women.. I’m pretty sure I’m not really capable of a ‘casual encounter’, I am too curious and not ready to jump in the sack with a stranger… I try to reply to ads, but so far not had anything pan out. I figure if I’m somewhat interested and I don’t reply, its discouraging them from thinking anybody is out there.. I chose to believe that there are people out there and this is one way to meet them.
Peace
In case you can’t tell.. I am probably trying to hard because I’m nervous and want to make a good impression… I want to say as much as possible that they either should know or that I want them to be interested in also.. ::sigh:: I almost wish I didn’t care so much, or that I wasn’t as curious as I am. I do reply to ads, but its been bots or no replies, to platonic or otherwise…
Anyone have a success story to lift my gloom a little? I am on the verge of chickening out of even posting it… which makes me feel very lame. I need to keep the faith, I think… and I have nothing to lose, right?
Posted in Uncategorized |
Here I am, a new Hotel Bliss resident.
Written by missmandiemae on May 27, 2008 – 8:40 am -Here I am, a new Hotel Bliss resident. I find no one in my area is on here! I would like to meet some friends, but have no idea how to get started. Any friendly advice, ladies??
Thanx bunches,
Miss Mandie Mae
Posted in Uncategorized |
Needing the perspective of other Outrageous Women
Written by dirtygurrrl on May 18, 2008 – 8:34 pm -Well, since this is my first post here and most of you don’t know me very well, I’m going to tell you some background information before I ask my question.
I was married not long after college to a man named Glen. It lasted for 9 years, produced two amazing boys, and then ended horribly. For the first year after the divorce, I was pretty bitter about the whole thing. And it didn’t help that he was under the mistaken notion that I would still cater to his every whim. But we eventually ironed things out. I grew a backbone and started standing up to him and he earned a new respect for me.
At this point, we are getting along great. He’s communicative about his plans when it affects me, and we are working pretty great as a team in raising our boys. I’ve even had some great phone conversations with his fiance (who is also my son’s godmother, which is a whole other story).
I’m invited to the wedding. And I’ve said that I’ll go. I think it’s important for my sons to see that there is no bad blood there. That they don’t have to feel like they have to choose between me and their new stepmom. That this just means they have one more person they can count on who loves them wholeheartedly.
My guy is still deployed to Africa, so I’ll be going to the wedding alone. Which kinda sucks. But I’ll go, and I’ll look fabulous and smile brightly. What I want to know is. . .just how petty is it that I want to go to that wedding and outshine the bride? And the groom, for that matter. I want to steal the show. Which is why I will leave early. Cause I know it would be bitchy to steal their thunder on this special day. I know it really doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of me. I am quite positive that I’m the very best Me in the whole world. But it’s just so very important to me that I not look pathetic there alone at his wedding.
Thanks for listening
Dirty Gurrrl
Oh! And if anyone can tell me the etiquette of wedding attire I’d be grateful. Can I wear black if it’s not ALL black? What about white? And I’m just making an educated guess, but see-through tops are off limits, right? hehehe
Posted in Uncategorized |
