Zach’s here & throwing off my “game”

He's a real double threat, I guess.

He's a real double threat, I guess.

My dog (or my mother’s dog, if you want to get technical about it) is at my loft for the next two days.  And while I love him, and I used to spend all the time with him, my mother and sister’s general neglect for his overall happiness and well being has, seemingly, turned him into some vicious little monster. Thus far, he has caused my elderly, and I mean very elderly, bunny to almost have a hernia while reaching speeds of what seemed like 25 km/h. We also headed over to Trinity Bellwoods today, because that’s Zach’s favourite park. He used to live me once upon a time ago, and we would, quite literally, head to Bellwoods 3 times a day. He doesn’t exactly have the greatest bladder control.

     But I digress, today at Bellwoods, four girls (which I saw out of the corner of my eye or otherwise) checked me out, either that or couldn’t stop staring while they tried to get their head around the fact that someone would exit their home in such a ridiculous get up as the one I was sporting, all of the four (which I was aware of) were consequently turned off by my maniac dog barking at them. The thing is, Zach is half pomeranian. So he’s around a foot tall, but when he gets going, he goes for one of two things, the first of which being the jugular, the second of which being your eardrums. He is very good at attacking both in ways you won’t soon forget about. So there go my chances (because clearly had he not barked I would’ve gotten everyone’s numbers…).

    Speaking of getting people’s numbers, yesterday I was at the Fetish Festival on Church. Which I stumbled upon while I was going my 15 km timed ride around the city, and since I figured that fetish festivals=nympho’s, I grabbed my number one wingman Matthew Gray, and took it to the streets. We were in Slack’s, I was checking out the crowd, and he was making googoo eyes at the bartender, when he made me a bet. This isn’t verbatim, but I will use quotations none the less:

Matthew: “Lauren, if you don’t pick up a hot chick here, you’re buying me a round of drinks!”

Lauren: “A round of drinks implies I’m buying drinks for more than one person, way to go.”

    I agreed to his little “bet”, ignoring the fact that the bet was, all in all, poorly phrased. And I started to take it seriously, once I realized I may have to shell out $4 for a beer he probably won’t finish, when who calls? My sister. Saying she’s coming over, and she’s bringing the dog. The bet was off, I went home alone, and she ended up staying at my mom’s either way. What a bogus fetish festival.

     On the bright side, I pondered what my fetish may be while I was at the bar, and I re-realized that I love women who ride bicycles so much that it must be a fetish. That’s right, if you are a woman of the bike riding variety, I am more likely than not attracted to you. Unless you have poor taste in shoes, than you are either voided, the only exception being if you ride a fixie that you built yourself… Hot.

(First posted: 18/08/08)


I’m getting my lezzy-ass in gear

Okay so, you realize you’re a lesbian (finally!), now what? Well, let’s see. 

Look up a list of terms on Urban Dictionary is a good start. Download 5 seasons of the L Word, and feel better about your realization once you find yourself attracted to everyone. 

Venture into the occasional sex shop and actually look around for things you may need in the future

Start cleaning your room, just in case, you maybe, eventually, some day, bring home a hot chick.

Read Curve, or the like, front to back, and resist the unbearable urge to take notes and ask your straight friends.

Sucker your more socially liberal friends into being your wing person at the local lesbian bar on Wednesday evening

Come out! Well, maybe one person at a time works too, you’re not a bull dyke… yet.

    And that brings us back to me, my list of accomplishments thus far. I think I have pretty far to go. I just downloaded some Ani DiFranco, and man, do we ever have it right. Ani DiFranco is kind of a “big dyke joke” amongst my friends, “turn down the DiFranco and listen to me”, is becoming more common by the day. Which is odd, because I broke my iPod two months ago, so I’m never actually listening to “the DiFranco” while they address me. It’s a stupid joke and terribly bland when it’s only in print, I’m sure.

    The point of the above paragraph was that I’m now getting into more lesbian-themed music. I realized that this was a logical step when I was on the plane back from Vancouver, and I was watching some horrible Hollywood blockbuster of a movie, and I could not stand to watch the horrible hetero sex scene. Lesbian sex scenes, and just lesbian chemistry in general is far more relatable to me (for obvious reasons, I hope), so I assume the music should be too. Here’s to diving in.

(First posted: 29/07/08)

Pride Prom & momentary hiatus

What a deceptive sticky note...

What a deceptive sticky note...

Well, last night was Pride Prom. I could just leave it at that, because it was relatively lack luster (with the exception of one girl, prow.), yet so much went on drama-wise that I cannot not blog about it. Pride Prom is a SOY event for the LGBTQ community under 21, you know, people who aren’t down with the club scene, and it seemed like a good idea. However, there were straight girls and breeders aplenty, which was disappointing. 

    None the less I had a fairly good time, and got a major ego boost from being checked out so often. My wingman, one Matthew Gray, on the other hand, didn’t get too much of an ego boost. Matthew, bless his overly emotional soul, saw Ryan, his open-relationship boyfriend, with another guy. And he got a little bit out of control, and by a little bit I mean Matthew went looking for his car in random parking lots and side streets. We eventually ended up at Slacks, my new hangout, for open mic night. Poor Matthew Gray, he knows what he wants, but he just won’t vocalize it, and that’s his downfall.

    My downfall, on the other hand, is having an overly-emotional wingman. This crazy sexy girl gave me the up down 3 times, as I followed him out of the prom to console him. Three times! I’ll be single forever if I don’t find a good wingperson. I’ll take auditions? Maybe? I don’t know. What I do know is while I love the guy to bits, he’s not going to help me find a girlfriend.

    And lastly, to touch on the momentary hiatus bit, I’ve moved. Or at least I’m in the process of moving. And at this new place there is no internet (yet), so you will just have to bear with me while I suffer through it with you. I’ll attempt to frequent coffee shops, or anywhere else with wifi & update.

(First posted:25/06/08)

Pride Kickoff & Bar Hopping

I dance like this... when I'm sober-ish.

I dance like this... when I'm sober-ish.

Yesterday marked the official “Pride Week” kickoff, and to celebrate Matthew, his ex-boyfriend who wouldn’t take no for an answer, and I headed down to the epicenter (Church and Wellsley). We came fashionably late, but not so late that we’d have to wait in lines. 

    I’d never been to a gay bar before, actually that’s a lie, I’d been to Slacks before, but that was so brief that it barely counts. Anyways, we started out at Woody’s, this bar that, surprise surprise, is all for men. I’m pretty sure I saw 3 women there, and even at gay men’s bars it’s hard to tell if they’re down or if they’re there to support their just-out best friend. There were televisions everywhere, all of them showing horrible porn. Needless to say I downed two Stella’s in 20 minutes, which normally would have been a bad plan, but I thought it necessary.

    We then left Woody’s (thankfully), to head for greener pastures. Greener pastures being Slacks, the premier lesbian bar on Church. Two more beers and a booth seat, and I still felt out of place. Maybe it’s because I knew everyone else was significantly older than I am, or maybe it was because I had no idea where else to meet women who were down, but it was depressing. I felt awkward, but not too much out of place, being surrounded by women having a good time, well I felt safe, even though I knew I wouldn’t be picking anyone up.

    I love women, but I hate dancing, but I love drinking, but I hate paying $6 for domestic bottled …but I love women! What an endless struggle, is it not? I was very thankful that Matthew came with me, even though I’m sure he felt a little bit out of place too, him & I had a heart to heart, and he is quickly becoming one of my best friends. On that note, I need more (…some) lesbian friends, I love the gay men, don’t get me wrong, not being hit on by big bulky men is a definite plus. But I’d like some lesbian friends, because I think they can relate to me on an entirely different level, I don’t think making friends at bars is that easy though, because I don’t think most people go to bars to buddy up.

    On a more optimistic note, Pride Prom is coming up and I am beyond excited. There is an age cap at 21, so number prospective hookups goes up exponentially. And if all else fails, I can make lesbian friends! The only thing is that I don’t know what to wear, and I don’t want to look out of place. However, I did get a very artsy-dyke haircut the other day, so at least I won’t be mistaken for a breeder.

(Originally written: 21/06/08)