Survival Tips for the Hungry Love Struck

This is the House of Sally Sun. The house music pounds hard. The needle jumps off the record and skips a beat. Confusion follows a moment of silence, and then, a startling thud when the loud speakers are whipped into the wall.

Welcome.

Hang your hat next to the half-assed flute playing riddlers.

Tape their fucking mouths shut.

Place your shoes on top of Billy’s pathetic fifth grade crayola homework.

Smear dirt across the page.

Sit down.

Wait.

Sex in the Soil

Autumn in Moldova

“When it’s missing then you want it more
It isn’t right
Turning out the door
And back to this
Leave it like it was before
And let me out”
-Warrior: Yeah Yeah Yeahs

We've all been subjected to abuse in some way, shape, or form. Whether it's a broken heart, a parent's abandonment, death, disease, poverty of the soul, or poverty of the mind- it's all there. We've walked down our quiet roads of desperation, swallowing anger, resentment, guilt, and toxic shame. And mostly, the grief is contained in our own private hell. It is in this hell, that we divide from other people and dive deep into our own cosmic experience.

There is an inner division too. Splits occur. Fragmentation sets in. We cannot see the truth in someone else’s experience because we are locked down in our own pain. We cannot gain any benefits from their experience because of our stubborn refusal to examine another’s journey outside of ours. We need open recognition of what our wounds are and the wounds of those around us, before we can embrace an enemy with compassion, or hell, even ourselves.

To make matters more difficult, we forget, the Earth is our greatest healer. We spend an obscene amount of time chasing plastic, only to forget the dirt under our feet and what it feels like. We disconnect and then make excuses for our collective sickness.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord”

I am not a devoted religious scholar, or even a “believer” in the fucked up sense believing entails in modern day society. However, this old hymn runs through my brain every time I ponder the meaning of healing through the Earth. After we come to terms with our own wounds, and can clearly see and put into perspective the wounds of others, we may wonder how to proceed next with the process of, as one of my favorite writers would say, “Getting over thyself.”

Healing requires we get intimate with the Earth. Traveling, then, in a larger sense, represents a quest for release and the movement toward passion and love, as we acquaint ourselves with the Earth. For the thrill of letting go and for a sweet moment of peace, we move, with authority, out into the world.

When I started to realize what my eyes had seen, and how damaged my vision was (literally 2400/20, legally blind eyes!), I knew I had to learn to “see” differently, in order to heal. To see the world and myself differently, I flooded my psyche with imagery in brand new landscapes and sat with it. In essence, I went straight to the Earth for healing.

This naughty little sex writer, then, is taking a few moments from her ass-pounding, fist-fucking world to share, in orgasmic delight, my favorite places. These are the places I must go. I must see them with my eyes open so wide they pop from my head. I must sit on the Earth at each place and run my fingers over the soil and breathe. I must, belly to the ground, lay my ear down and listen.

Vintgar Gorge, Gorjie, Slovenia



Krka National Park, Croatia




Machu Picchu, Peru



The Blue Church- Chisinau, Moldova



Bran Castle, Romania




Lucerne, Switzerland



Travel it all away.

Love,

Sally.

A sexy piece of Scorpio man meat

For your inspection…


“It's off with the jeans, the jacket and the shirt
How'd I end up feeling so bad?” – Ryan Adams

What does everybody think of Ryan Adams?

The first song of his I heard was, “When the Stars Go Blue”, a few years back on a cd my ex-girlfriend made for me. It’s a lazy, melodic, melancholy love song, which seems to be Ryan’s style. A lot of his music is tortured and somewhat depressing. Aye, just what I like, Ryan.



There’s no doubt he has plenty of nasty emotional experiences to draw from, some self-inflicted and some imposed upon him. His dad left when he was 9 years old, so he was basically raised by his mother and grandmother. He dropped out of school at 16. He’s also a bit of a drunk and invokes the self-destructive artist image often. Maybe it’s not an image, as I get the feeling the guy is a little bit raw, if not temperamental and emotional in nature.



He’s been accused by critics as being manic in his drive to create. In 2005, he released 3 cds with all new material. Who does that? The guy seems to draw from an endless pool of inspiration. Plus, he’s a Scorpio, which means he will approach most activities in an extremely focused driven manner. He likes to work it, and honey, I don’t have a problem with that.



His newest album, Easy Tiger, was released in 2007. The only track I’ve listened closely to so far is “Two”. In the song, he talks about wanting to go home and being fractured from the fall. Ryan is insinuating or allowing the listener to draw on a much deeper image than presented on the surface, in true Scorpio fashion. The fall, meaning incarnating on Earth, and the disillusionment one faces while here- having a physical body and what not. In Two, he sings, “It takes Two when it used to take One”, which implies that once we get here, we have to depend on others for our survival. Talk about a lesson in surrendering.



It reminds me of when an old boyfriend, who was usually the sober responsible one, got out-of-his mind drunk, curled up in the back of his car, floated in and out of consciousness and then started mumbling about wanting to go home. Return to the primordial soup from which you came, earthling!



My all-time favorite song of Adam’s is from his cd “Gold” released in 2001 called “La Cienega Just Smiled.” Romantic, haunting, and lovely...reminds me of a boy I used to know....

George Bush and Female Desire

(Not a likely combo you say?)

This fucking incompetent irresponsible administration, with its lies, corruption, and greed, has gone too far. Democrats have given George the Finger, and there’s no turning back. Today, ACTUAL legislation passed in the House in a 218-212 vote which provided for a time table to bring the troops home. It’s hard to tell if the Senate will pass it, but it’s a start. Bush has said he will veto the measure if it ends up on his desk. Everything negative that could be said about this president has already been said. Soooo, I’ll spare you the “he’s a trigger happy war mongering obstinate fool who needs to remove his head from his ass” speech.

Ahem.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest, back to the babes. It is, after all, female desire week. Let’s not waste anymore time.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical: Act II

How could I forget these two? I seem to have a preference for brunettes, with blue eyes, that is.

But, as my friend Julie would say, “I don’t discriminate, I’m an equal-opportunity destroyer.” Indeedy, Julie.

Rachel Yamagata




Amy Lee




Next, I’d like to continue with some cinematic duos of female desire. Here are my most recent two.

Loving Annabelle- Diane Gaidry, Erin Kelly




This could very well be my life story. Teacher falls for hot young student- so delicious, yet completely inappropriate and naughty.

My Summer of Love- Natalie Press and Emily Blunt



Hell, Emily Blunt by herself works for me too. Yikes- she’s sexy.





*Turns off movie projector and turns on the lights*

Time for a cold shower.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical

“I know you've seen her
She's a sad tomato
She's three miles of bad road
Walking down the street
Will I never meet her?” - Crush With Eyeliner, R.E.M.

Since Cassandra Says has declared it Female Desire Week, and others have followed suit, I thought I’d throw my two cents into the ring. Female Desire Week reminds us all that women aren’t just tools of the patriarchy, that we too can be initiators of “the gaze”.

I cannot speak for all women, but at least I know I’m not dead inside. I’d like to actually, you know, enjoy my sexual activities, whether it is with a man or woman.

And, oh, on the whole man or woman topic. As most of my readers know, I’m bisexual. If you’ve been reading my blog for some time you’ve probably noticed that I have a tendency to get involved with more men (whether sexually, emotionally, relationships.. whatever) then women. And when friends call they say, “Meet any cute guys lately?” or “any special guy in your life?” Inevitably, I have some random guy-story to relay to them. Blah Blah Blah.

Not that I don’t like or don’t fantasize about certain men, because I do. BUT, it gets old. If I had my way, I’d alternate between the two genders. This week men, next week women, and so forth. In a perfect world, I could Take a Sample from Every Platter when ever I wanted, AND not feel guilty about it.

But why do I feel like Mom just slapped my hand as I reached into the cookie jar?

For some reason, Desire, especially has been a central issue for me. Certainly, I’ve been known to frolic in the garden while tasting everything in sight. Most partners would like to keep my frolicking to a minimum or eliminate it altogether. I am not comfortable with this for several reasons. But, mostly because It’s So Freaking Boring! I love the chase, the moment where nothing is certain and adrenaline is high. I realize this resembles the classic feelings of a girl with a middle school crush, but hell, don’t we all like our love dressed up and all idealistic? Cause I know when reality creeps in, that’s the kiss of death for me. It ruins the expectation of a perfect union, and well, I’m just not that interested in settling. Delusional? Maybe. Hopeful? Always.

And so, I digress.

Anyway, here are some other tantalizing gaze-inspirers from a previous post for your viewing pleasure. And I do mean pleasure.

This, however, is the Music Edition. And since there are so many sizzling desirous musicians , I had a lot of material to work with.

I’ve grouped them into categories for organizational purposes, of course.

OBJECTS OF DESIRE: The Musical

Hot Girls with Guitars (and an occasional Piano):

Tristan Prettyman





Regina Spektor



Neko Case



Hot women who should beat me with a whip:

Rose McGowen (I realize she is not a musician, but I couldn’t resist)

Alison Goldfrapp





A Threesome I wouldn’t mind participating in:

The White Stripes





Group Gropes I would definitely attend:

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs



PJ Harvey, Bjork, Tori



And shocking as it is, one singular man:

Ray Lamontagne




Standing ovation, close curtain.

Seven Women Who Make My Teeth Sweat

Instead of posting cynical biting commentary on V-Day, I've decided to focus on the good things in life...sexy women. Here are my top seven, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Happy V-Day.

kd lang



Marlene Dietrich



Natasha Lyonne



Eva Mendez



Greta Garbo



Marina, as seen on the "L Word"



Maggie Gyllenhaal



Feeling Love- Paula Cole

Where do i put this fire
this bright red feeling
this tiger lily down my mouth
it wants to grow to twenty feet tall

i've left bethlehem
i feel free
i've left the girl i was supposed to be and
someday i'll be born

i'm so tired of being shy
i'm not that girl anymore
i'm not that straight A anymore
i want to sit with my legs wide open and
laugh so loud that the whole damn restaurant
will turn and look at me and say
look at the tiger jumping out of her mouth

i've left bethlehem
i feel free
i've left the girl i was supposed to be and
someday i'll be born

no more sex-starved teachers
trying to touch my ass
i can finally be a teenager at age twenty-six
go to hell lions, tigers, and bears
i'm not afraid of you anymore

Skirt Chasin'

It took me a long time to finally stop imaging every boy that I’ve ever saw in a dress. Because boys, at some point, will all have their manhood stripped from them. The only difference being, I saw it in my mind’s-eye long before they could ever fathom it. I knew that purple sash and little Bo Peep bonnet would look nice on him long before he ever did.

For most men the transformation is necessary part of development. Tori A. said it best in her song, Caught a Lite Sneeze, when she said “Boys in their dresses, but you're not here.” Sometimes the ego disappears, and identity is lost during the unraveling of our false self. Where do we go when we lose ourselves? Do we sublimate our thoughts, desires, and needs and lose contact with our instinctual drives?

This happens easily to men who are often taught to ignore their feminine side, in favor of unrelenting masculinity. Men without a proper container to hold their femininity will project all their neurotic tendencies on to the woman with the right hook (to hang his projection on, that is.) This is the one that draws him in.

Of course, women too experience their own form of de-humanization and humiliation. For many women, the unintended consequence of sublimating our inner male has forced itself to the surface through violent abusive relationships, or splits between our bodies and minds. Women, with our tendency to contort ourselves into chameleon-like poses to please everybody, need to collectively develop a lower tolerance for bullshit.

And really, the only way to overcome it is to build a divine marriage of opposites within yourself. Relationships should only exist as a container for self-discovery, if we are aware enough. The rest of the work should be done in the confines of our own minds. Even if the only thing you can see is a bunch of dudes standing around in their pretty dresses.

OH, HORRORS! I MISSED THE SERMON AGAIN!

So, what was I actually doing on Sunday? Readers, you guessed it, I was watching my favorite lesbians on T.V. See the promo shot for the third season of this thrilling Showtime series below:



The show airs at 9pm from now until the middle of April. This show is my one pop culture indulgence, and I watch it religiously. The first season of The L Word started in 2004 and was unlike anything on television before. The show centers on a beautiful cast of women with fabulous careers who live in L.A. The show documents the lives of these young women as they discover themselves through their relationships with other women. (Not all the characters on the show are lesbians, some are bisexual, Trans- gendered, all colors of the rainbow are represented.) See below the beginning credits from the show:



Sexy, eh?

As one can imagine the show attracts a wide variety of viewers from the “foaming at the mouth because I love lesbians” straight-boys to the gayest of the gay, the L Word has a lot of appeal for many reasons. I, personally, wouldn’t mind being a high-powered lesbian who lives in L.A. with a gang of hot friends. What a life!

The show’s time line, oddly enough, moved right along with my own blossoming sexuality. During 2004, I began a series of intense relationships (both friendships and romantic) with other lesbian women. At the time, I was strictly involved with women only and was not considering romantic relationships with men. Although women are preferred, occasionally now I will date men too. During the course of my sexual self-discovery, the question of identity and sexuality plagued me indefinitely.

Is sexuality just part of our identity? Or does our sexuality define our identity? Among those who follow social norms, gender roles, and tradition I believe it does. For example, what would happen to good ol’ Bob down the street who has 3 kids, a wife, and respectable job if he was outed publicly against his will? Does his identity cave in? Does he form new identity as a result of being forced “out of the closet?” Does he then form a “new” identity within the gay community? Interesting questions indeed.

Bisexuals, on the other hand, straddle the middle line. Since we are neither gay or straight, the task of forming a strong identity can be daunting. It reminds me of a song by Suzanne Vega called “Left of Center” where she states: “If you want me, you can find me, left of center, off of the strip.”

There are advantages to living on the fringes as the view sure is nice from the outside. From here, you can see almost everyone-I mean, everything, as a potential possibility. But as a good friend of mine would say, “Come on Sally S, now isn’t the time to be gettin’ greedy on me.” Although I relish the display, I’d better keep my hands to myself.