Seduced by Sergio

It’s a regular Thursday night. I leave work a little later than usual. No parking out front. I pull my car around to the alley and make my way to the back door. No porch light guiding my way. I fumble with keys, eyes squinting. Before I can even turn the lock, the door flings open with a mighty gust. I retract as an arm comes flying out towards me. With a stinging SLAP, a paper sign is smacked upon the door. It reads, “Goddess Spa, please knock.”

“Hello, hello, welcome, come in now, you are late!” booms an accented and pushy voice.

Still no light to aid my confusion, I peer inside to find an eccentrically dressed man: fashion jeans complimented by a white embroidered blouse (unbuttoned past the nipples mind you), scarf flung around the neck and a fedora to top it all off.  Reading my thoughts, he says, “I am Sergio, this is my spa, you are late!”

Who is this guy? Does Dave have someone over? Is he Russian? Well he is Eastern European that’s for sure.

Taken by the hand, I am dragged through the house, brought to the living room and ordered to strip. Sergio holds up a robe and insists, “You take clothes off. You shower before treatment. Come on, come on, you last appointment of day. You are late. We stay open just for you.”

WTF? I have no idea what is going on, but I go with it because….. hey, I want to!

Led (or more accurately dragged) to the bathroom, Sergio runs the hot water in the shower and looks at me like…”well come on dummy, get your ass in there.” He does a quick CLAP CLAP and tears my robe off my now naked body. I step into the spray and go to closed the curtain, but Sergio is already there, loofah in hand, ready to scrub me down! This feels wildly OUTRAGEOUS and my surprised self can do nothing but giggle.  Allowing every inch of my smooth skin to be lathered by this man feels decadent, luxurious, and a little wrong. But again, I am the Pleasure Goddess, so I just go with it. Luscious receiving is key! Thank you, more please.

I am ordered to rinse. Sergio informs me that my masseuse Hans is ready for me. He disappears.

Out in the hallway, I am greeted by a handsome American, sweet smile, strong body, muscles flexing out of his sleeveless tee. Oh baby! You can tell this guy likes to rub down the ladies.  “Hello, I am Hans, I will be your massage therapist this evening. Is this your first time here?”

My bedroom has been transformed into a feast of the senses. Lights are dimmed, candles burning, soft music plays from an unknown source. The bed is covered in fresh sheets with pillows and bolsters. Absolute Heaven!

Hans is a miracle worker. As he dribbles hot wax onto my back, he peppers in a little conversation. “So, where you from?”  I melt into the moment and allow this man to nurture every peak and valley of my supple form. His long, languid strokes seduce my better judgment and soon he is inside of me. We are one, wrapped in the sensual essence of the plumeria candle that still flickers in the corner.

At the conclusion of my….uuhh hummm “massage,” Hans leaves the room to get me some water. I sit up in bed and shake my head. What just happened?

If you haven’t already guessed it, Sergio and Hans were the same person, both of whom just happen to also be my boyfriend, David. What an absolutely amazing and ridiculous man! How blessed can one goddess be? (Hint: the number is infinite! For ALL us goddesses! ). “How did this possibly happen?” I think to myself.  Oh yeah!……it dawns on me! I guess I did ask for a massage this afternoon!

I am continually overcome with the magic that continues to unfold as I ask for what I want. Not only did I manifest a man who fits my desire list to perfection, BUT as I continue to desire, he continues to be that which I want and MORE! Truly remarkable and seriously pleasurable!

I am so committed to helping every woman design and manifest every drop of her Pleasure. Do you desire your dream man? You ideal home? The perfect job? More love, peace, grace and fun? I believe that EVERY single woman is capable of conjuring up her every yearning…AND she can have a blast while doing it! If this pulls on your heart strings, and you feel desire burning within you, but don’t know where to start, please contact me and let me know you would love my support.

I am so thrilled to stand for women getting what they want! Life is so luscious for everyone when a woman is in her pleasure! COMING SOON!
Remnants of Sergio

Remnants of Sergio


Fuck You Fear!

It is totally amazing (and completely lame) how fear can enact a debilitating effect on all things awesome. Let me give you an example:

It is in my greatest pleasure to amp up my Pleasure Biz. I desire to coach and write and teach and collaborate and create from a loving space full time. Oh how yummy that sounds. My soul wants it. My spirit sings about it. My beliefs know it is a reality. My thoughts on the other hand are crushing the possibility in it’s tight fucking fist. For the pleasurably positive person that I am, there are a sickening amount of negative thoughts floating around in my brain. These thoughts are poison. They lull me into inaction and fill my mouth with excuses on why NOT to do the things I truly want to do. Disgusting!

The crazy thing is that I can see them. I am watching them wreck havoc on my mentality. I am fully aware that they are NOT in divine alignment with what a believe and know to be true. They are tricky little bastards and I want to beat them into a bloody little pulp for the damage they are doing to my dreams.

But as Gandhi said, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.”

He was so loving and smart! What a precious pumpkin pie of a man! He also said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

Quite powerful old man! So I heeded his advice. I sat down with MY little precious pumpkin pie of a man and asked him to hold a loving space for me while I did some inner spring cleaning. I dug in and pulled out all the crap that was nesting inside of me. I said it out loud and released it into the ethers to dissolve into the nothingness from whence it came. After all that messy mind crap was gone, I was left with the good stuff. My true intention in this life. My aim. My aspiration and inspiration: to share and be love. To receive love and speak love and teach love through personal pleasure. Once I was reminded of why I am on this planet, all the fears that loomed around previously seemed laughable, irrelevant.

In service to my intention to share love, it would be a pleasure to be of loving service to you and your intentions. If you desire to learn how to spring clean, or just need a partner to hold space for you, it would be an absolute honor! (email

I leave you with this poem by the incomparable Shel Silverstein. I flipped to it randomly and smiled as it exemplified sweetly the power of our thoughts to create something or Nobody out of nothing…………because isn’t it lovely how we don’t have to believe everything we think? Phew!


Nobody loves me,
Nobody cares,
Nobody picks me peaches and pears,
Nobody offers me candy and Cokes,
Nobody listens and laughs at my jokes,
Nobody helps me when I get in a fight,
Nobody does all my homework at night,
Nobody misses me,
Nobody cries,
Nobody thinks I’m a wonderful guy.
So if you ask me who’s my best friend, in a whiz,
I’ll stand up and tell you that Nobody is.
But yesterday night I got quite a scare,
I woke up and Nobody just wasn’t there.
I called out and reached for Nobody’s hand,
In the darkness where Nobody usually stands.
Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,
But I found somebody each place that I looked.
I searched till I’m tired and now with the dawn,
There’s no doubt about it-
Nobody’s gone!

Zapped by the Travel Bug

I just have to brag that I have been pretty gangster lately. This girl is getting it done! I don’t think there has been a time in my life where I have so relentlessly and shamelessly asked for what I wanted. It is exhilarating. It is terrifying. And it is how I desire to live my life from here on out.

My adventurous man and I have been planning our first international getaway to Honduras. Ten days of beaches, scuba, surfing, biking, hiking, and party mayhem! I submitted my dates to my work and patiently awaited the go ahead. Patiently, patiently, patiently, until…….Hello!!! Trying to live my life here. Flight costs rising, tick, tick, tick.

My request was countered with an email laying out the dates they would need me in the coming months. Unfortunate conflict occurring on the exact weekend I had hoped to already have pina colada in hand and sand in toes. Our ideal scenario entailed whisking away in the dead of a Thursday night, rubbing tired eyes to a Central America Friday afternoon. Their ideal scenario had me working Friday, Saturday and then some. Oh no no…..what is a well-mannered, accommodating employee to do?

My relationship with this family I work for has been a long one. I met them all when I was the tender age of 23. Still such a girl in this world. No awareness of my ability to tap into my womanhood, my essence, my pleasure. For many, many, many, many years I was incapable of saying no. Did I mention I said yes a lot? An automatic tension would arise in me every time I wanted to ask for something that I wanted. And when they wanted something, I would pretty much forgo my schedule to make them happy. Needless to say, as I have matured in my goddessness, this pattern just isn’t in my pleasure anymore.

But something beyond my womanly bad-assery kicked in this time. All of the sudden, I wasn’t just sticking up for me anymore. I was holding ground for us. The divine we that is stronger than the me. This delicious man I have manifested compliments my strengths in ways that I am just starting to explore. The unyielding support, the continual encouragement, the unfaltering faith we practice for one anther makes us invincible.  We hold so beautifully in the belief that anything is possible for us. So with this thought, the impossible happened.

I graciously wrote an email to my work straight up asking for what I wanted. Simply put, will you reschedule your trip so I can go on mine? I felt like a mama bear protecting her cubs. A new force was awakened in me because I felt his strength combined with mine. So more accurately, I asked for what we wanted. And the most beautiful thing happened……they said YES!

With this one tiny act, so many barriers dissolved. I am so overcome with gratitude and joy.  In standing firmly in my desire and in my love, I finally recognized that my work does care deeply about my life. They want me to be happy as much as I want them to be happy and fulfilled. This perpetual journey in learning to ask for what I desire is lusciously becoming a fruitful one. The first lesson was in realizing I am actually allowed to do it. Secondly, even though I may be terrified, I can choose to feel the fear and do it anyway! And lastly, receive, receive, receive. Open those gorgeous palms up to the sky and feel the magic pour down onto you. We deserve even more good, more love, more joy, more abundance than we ever thought was possible.

That has been my sublime awareness this week. Foolishly, I was spending time contemplating the perfection of my relationship. How can it possibly be this good? There must be something wrong with him. I better figure it out soon before it’s too late. Whoa! Hold up and knock that shit off! I am definitely NOT interested in creating a reality where I don’t get exactly what I want. Goddess Natalie lovingly put the smack down and explained it so simply for me upon leaving Agape yesterday. She said, “Well, Briana, of course he is perfect! You spent all that time manifesting him. Anything you create for yourself is going to be the best.” Oh honey how I loved hearing that! No more ruminating on the worst. I acknowledge myself for all of my amazingness and my sick manifestation skillzzzzz! This is what I hope for you beauties too. Remind yourself how completely powerful and remarkable you are. Then celebrate in that!

*Anyone interested in bringing their divine relationship and life into reality, I’m your girl. Give me a call, send me a telepathic thought, write it in the sky. Also, spread the word! Briana is ordained to do weddings! Yipeeee!

Love is the New Black

As I kissed my beloved hello, I kissed my blog good-bye. When I found the man I was pleasure dating to find, I lost my motivation to write. Not because I didn’t feel inspired to document the magical love we shared. But rather, I entertained the ridiculous notion that no one is interested in reading about how in love I am.

Well I am done with that notion. Number one: because it is stupid. Number two: because who asked you to read this anyway! Just kidding! I love that I get to share my experiences with others. I love even more when my words have the ability to impact the lives of others. And this is why I am back. I cannot keep this love confined any longer. This love has the power to change the way you think about love.

What would you say if I told you that everything you want in a partner (and more) is possible? That stars align and prayers are answered and it is available to you? Would you exit this page and turn off your computer? Or would you read on while scrumptiously salivating? Well good, the skeptics are gone. Those of you left are ready, truly ready!

I was not ready for a long time. Terrified would accurately describe my general feeling about men and relationships. I was sooooo not ready, that I masterfully convinced myself that men were not worth a damn and were of no use to me. Apparently I forgot I had a vagina. This time I spent avoiding intimacy was extremely valuable though. Without the mind-fucking distraction of man, I was able to cultivate a spiritually solid relationship with myself. For years and years, I practiced, and I learned how to be me exceptionally well. Only when I got comfortable enough with me, did I even begin the tiniest inkling of a desire for a we. I was actually embarrassed to want it a first, only admitting it to my nearest and dearest. Until one day I got clear, really, really clear. All of the sudden I was able to, without a doubt, confess my desire for a relationship. And not just any relationship, one with my divine love. This scared me and invigorated me all at once. Then months down the road, it did’t scare me anymore. It pissed me off and irked me that it hadn’t already arrived. Where the hell was he? I remember a session with my coach where she just let me be angry. Allowed me to rant and rave and mentally throw things across the room. I believe this was the day that I finally knew I was serious about finding love.

I still approached my dating with a casual edge. No man is looking for a desperate she-wolf. But my discernment tightened up and my pursuit of personal pleasure solidified. I wasn’t just going for something. I was going for everything! No more wishy washy excuses about how he might be this, or that might change. I only gave energy to that which I truly felt called to. And soon enough, I was called to him.

Getting clear on what I desired was not the simplest task. It was a process to put it lightly. But a process that I was committed to making pleasurable! I realized I cannot and will not compromise in asking for what I want. I’ve learned that asking gets me what I want, not asking simply doesn’t. And every woman knows, getting what you want is so much more fun!

The ongoing task for me is to remember to keep asking for all that I desire. From my man, from the Universe, from everyone…….always! In doing so I have placed the most gratifying life out in front of me. A life where I get my needs met and my desires fulfilled. Without exaggeration, I can honestly say that this beautiful man makes every single one of desires a reality. Men yearn to please women, but often lack the confidence to do so because they don’t know how. Let’s throw these precious men a bone by speaking up and being clear. I mean how else would he have known that I wished for him to rub lotion into my feet and sing to me as I fell asleep!!! I can’t make this up ladies. My prince has arrived.


*In addition to Pleasure Coaching, I have decided to also offer my services in Pleasure Dating and Pleasure Relationships. This calling has been inspired by not only the complete fulfillment I am experiencing in relationship with my man.  It also sprang into being by witnessing the most perfect wedding of my life last month. I am now an Ordained Minister and have already been asked to officiate a wedding. I could not think of a more love-filled way to be of service to those joining in divine union with one another. Please let me know how I can be of service to your ecstatically pleasurable life!

Walk That Walk


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This sucks my meticulously cleaned butthole! Disappointment is the pits and right now I am in the thick of it.

With the angelic sound of my whimsical ringtone, I flew down the stairs racing for my phone. Hooray, it is my man, my gorgeously loving man who just last night sent me the largest bouquet of flowers I have ever received. Exploding with purple powers of spring lilac, calming yellow and fuchsia bells. This man has made good on his promise to fill my room with floral love when he is away so I have a sweet reminder of his undeniable lusciousness. I answer the phone with heavy sign, the kind that comes after holding your breath for far too long. I can finally exhale. My love is coming home tonight!

After 11 days of cold toes in bed, absent kisses on these lips and a longing that just won’t quit, he will be back in my arms. I am so excited, I might even pee my pants a little. I have even planned a priceless pickup from the airport. Donning a captain’s jacket and  pilot’s hat, (maybe even some aviators and heels) I will hold a handmade sign that reads “Welcome to LA: Mr. Anderson.” There is no way I will be able to conceal my giggles at the sight of his delicious smile. Somehow I will have to censor my desire to devour him immediately on the baggage claim.

“Oh good morning my love!” I say when I reach my phone. “How are you today baby?”

The excitement in me grows as I allow my mind to wander to future events of this evening. Will it even be possible to hold him tight enough? There will be no sleep tonight.  After I conclude expressing immense gratitude for the generous florals in front of me, he breaks the news.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he says.

I hear a thud, and I realize my heart just fell off its perch in my chest. I get the insatiable inclination to hang up immediately (by accident, of course) because I know what’s coming. He’s not coming home tonight. We aren’t getting our day in the sun and surf together tomorrow. Silently, tears stream down my cheeks  and I only half listen to explanations of …………big project………multi-billion dollar national somethings………..complications………..operations plant………boss won’t let me leave.  My insides are crushed. My outsides are leaking. I can’t say a word. I want to be supportive. I want to lift up my man and assure him it is alright and so am I. I want to be strong and tell him I completely understand. And I do. I just don’t like it one bit. It sucks butt! I feel my love thermostat dial down to cold. “I need a minute. I’ll call you later.”

In this frigid place, my pleasure has stepped outside to sun herself. While she is out, the darkness grows. What good is having the man of my desires if I can’t truly have him? On the Four Man Plan I never experienced this disappointment because there were always other distractions (i.e. men) waiting in the wings.  Perhaps a proper tantrum is in order? Perhaps pulling my covers over my head and calling the day a wash is the only logical answer. Perhaps giving my man the cold shoulder will make him feel my pain………..Bullshit! Knock, knock, knock! Pleasure has had her share of Vitamin D and wants to come back in. Being the Pleasure Princess that I am, there has to be another way of relating to this. A way that turns me back on in my life and inevitably illuminates those around me. This is the principle I live by. Time to walk the walk!

I lay in bed and realize I am pissed. I am sad. I am feeling dejected and defeated. What is in my pleasure? To continue to lay here and do nothing. Fine. Done. I pick up my book and decide this is where I will stay. I will allow myself to do this all day if it suits me. My eyes glaze over the words, not registering a single one. Not truly enjoying this. My head is in my process. My mind is turning this predicament over and over. I need a release. What is in my pleasure? I want to get it out, write it out. Perfect. I pick up my computer (still in bed, mind you) and delve into this blog post.

Something truly magical happens when we give ourselves what we desire in each moment, without judgement. I could have tried to buck myself up by making myself get out in the sunshine and go for a run, sweat it out. I could have chosen to sob all morning in a puddle on the shower floor.  I could have made myself call a friend to vent and scream. And all of these are fabulously viable options, but none of these answered the call of my immediate pleasure. Laying in bed in the middle of the day with my computer answered that call, so that is what I gifted myself.

Pleasure isn’t always going to be exploding glitter bombs wrapped in purple bows. Sometimes pleasure is raw and nasty. Sometimes she is sweet and tender, or wild and raucous. Other times she is a fierce force of fury. But what true pleasure always is is uninhibited, truthful and real. If I am trying to censor my pleasure, I am missing the boat. Committing to my pleasure full-fledged is the only way I get to experience the release I am oozing right now. I gave myself what I needed, what I wanted. The dark charge is gone. I feel lighter and free. I am not upset with my man anymore. He is no longer in danger of feeling the wrath of my angst. I can truly see how living a life of honest pleasure leaves the woman fulfilled and leaves everyone around her blessed.

One Luscious List

Manifestation is real! I don’t know why I even need to remind myself at times. I am a confident gal, and even a bit cocky I’ll admit. So I should be strutting my stuff on the regular over my mad organizational genius, my mean b-ball skills AND my magical ability to conjure up the absolute fullness of what I desire!

It’s time to brag! I am in full love mode with my man. Life is absolutely wonderful, and if it was anything but wonderful, I simply wouldn’t notice. I am so in it. The blinders are on and I feel so alive in this serene tunnel vision of love. Thank you, more please.

I haven’t felt this way in over 10 years since my first love. I chalked that immature romance up to puppy love. Young, dumb and naive. I often wondered if loving that blindly was possible ever again. I also wondered if it was possible, would I even want it? What I realized was, HECK NO, I didn’t want to love like that again. I desired to love so much farther beyond my sweet 18 year-old capacity. It took a long, long time to forgive past mistakes and admit to myself that love was what I wanted. I had to get over my embarrassment of wanting true romance, true love. So instead I spent my time and my powers manifesting so many other fabulous physical world reality items. I am the queen of conjuring parking spots, opportunities, and goodies. Even the big-ticket items like cars, jobs, apartments, you name it. The ideal scenes I would create popped off the pages……but the ones focusing on men and relationship were kept tucked away out of the light of day.

It wasn’t until I started Adventures in Pleasure Dating and the Four Man Plan that I began to take what I wanted in the realm of man more seriously. Once again, I got out the pen and paper and wrote myself a divine explanation of “my man.” Three pages long. Truthful, forthright and open. It finally held the essence of the man I desired to be around, give my time to and dedicate loving towards. I did a bang up job……and then I forgot about it again. Until………… evening, lying across from my man, making disgustingly delicious googly eyes at one another, I remembered! I leapt up from the bed, started scrambling though piles of journals until I found it. I even opened right to the very page I was looking for. As I scanned the words I had written months prior, I simply couldn’t keep the sly smile from my lips. “May I read you something?” I asked. And I went on to recite every single line of my desire in a list entitled:

“What I am attracting……My Sensational Man.” 

He brings me gifts for no reason at all.
He opens door for me. 
He happily pays for things.
He is thoughtful and attentive to my needs.
He is gorgeous, healthy and strong. 
He is a rugged, sporty, outdoorsman.
He is kind and contemplative.
He is spiritual and self-aware.
He makes me laugh.
He cooks and he cleans.
He has a great job that he loves.
He loves my body and tells me how beautiful I am every single day.
He is a passionate and sensual lover.
He is the most amazing kisser.
He loves to massage me and soothe me.
He expresses how he feels.
He is supportive and encouraging.
He holds me.
He dances with me.
He takes the man’s role with grace and ease.
He is sooooo sexy, handsome and tall.
He loves me so much and tells me “I love you” everyday.
He loves my friends and they love him.
He gives me butterflies.
He inspires me.
He is intelligent.
He is fun and funny.
He walks me to my car. 
He plays with my hair and gazes into my eyes.
He plans exciting getaways for us.
He brags about me to his friends.
He sends me flowers.
He treats me like the goddess that I am.
He is spontaneous.
He is completely turned on by me.
He loves to worship my body from head to toe.
He challenges me to be an even more amazing woman.
He is active and adventurous.
He is sweet, tender and kind.
He whispers the sweetest words.
He kisses me soft and slow.
He is wild for me, will act a fool for me.
He kisses my neck.
He turns me on simply by looking at me. 
We are so in love.
We make each other better.
We communicate gorgeously.
We laugh all the time.
We cherish on another.
We are magic together.
We support one another completely.
We have so much fun no matter what.
We compliment each other.
We are made for one another.
We make beautiful love together.
We are in sync with one another.

And I will eat my gym socks if he isn’t every single one of those things and more! I had to sit back in that moment and pat myself on the back. Way to go honey! I honestly blew myself away. I was so pleased that I finally wrote such an authentic list. I felt like finally I put forth what I really wanted. Not what I thought I should want. Or what other people wanted for me. My gratitude is overflowing. We are all so blessed and supported in this mystical world. I delight in getting to play, frolic and create in it.

Here’s to always writing dorky lists and always asking for what you truly want. I say go for it! Get it girl! Get it, get it girl!

Doody Pie


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I’ve been hanging out with this needy and insecure chick for about a week and a half now. She is precious and fun, but for some reason she’s having a hard time trusting herself. She needs constant reassurance, and affirmation flung at her, like mischievous monkeys flinging poo at the zoo. And this is the perfect metaphor, because this need of hers is bullshit and she feels like crap. Her energy is stressing me out. I want to distance myself from her but she keeps showing up. How do you ditch someone who lives with you? Inside you? Is you? Yeah, it’s me, but I prefer to talk about her like she is someone else, because 1) it doesn’t feel like me, and 2) I don’t like her!

She showed up unexpectedly in the middle of a magical weekend at Joshua Tree while I was camping with my man, me Lady Caroline and a Texan. The desert Martian landscape was a hot bed for freedom-filled frolicking, courageous climbing and overall outdoor bliss. The love was flowing and so was the ice-cold white wine. It was damn hot and that mystical clear liquid was hitting my system like sugar bombs on the playground. The sweet, jovial, hyperactive high, followed by an inevitable dusk laden crash. Needless to say, I got hammered and hit the camper early that night.

In the past, I would have woken up ashamed of my “behavior” and embarrassed that I had gotten so drunk. Those days have since passed and I now choose not to judge going a little overboard or having too good of a time. Besides, I had something entirely new to judge myself for on this morning. Opening my eyes and laying in the arms of my magnificent man, he opens his and starts giggling.

“Do you remember what you said to me last night?”


Through a sly smile and a barrage of more giggling, he finally gets it out. You said, “I think I love you more than you love me………….and that’s okay.”

We both erupt into wild laughter. How ridiculous! Why would I say that? Wait! Why did I say that? Where on earth did that come from? This didn’t make any sense. We all joked about this and other absurd happenings from the night before throughout the day. I tried to shake my confusion over what I had said, but a weight had settled in on my heart and didn’t want to budge. This heaviness was added to later by something the Texan said. I had met him for the first time months earlier at the height of my pleasure dating endeavors. I was outspoken in my case for pleasure, a real firecracker going off for female fabulousness. His experience of me now was a gushy gal going gaga over her guy.

His comment. “Your man really loves how independent you are. I would hate for you to lose that thing that attracted him to you.”

Barf! Squirm! Boo! Hiss!

What is going on? Am I no longer the independent, strong goddess I once was? Am I sabotaging my relationship by being too loving? Too goo goo? Now I was really in my head and making up all kinds of asinine stories. I better tone it down so he sees how strong I am. I should really distance myself so he knows what it feels like to miss me. I better go off alone into the desert on a solo walkabout to prove that I can fully take care of myself. Oh brother! Everything that my mind came up with shot darts of desperation into my chest and layered my shoulders with a tense and icky film of inauthenticity. The gag reflect ignited within was a sure indicator that changing for my man was NOT in my pleasure. So then why did I continue to feed my fear with erroneous thoughts of my man’s waning love for me? How does one go from utterly impenetrable love, to the self-destruction of planting land mines at your own feet?

By not speaking up! That’s how! By forgetting that I have committed to being in my pleasure at all times. And this means speaking my truth, honoring what is present and communicating exactly what I want. All the time! No exceptions! And this is not just for me. This is a favor to everyone I ever come into contact with. The more I worried, the more the false folklore grew. The crazier the plot got, the creepier my reality became. My thoughts made him the bad guy and all of the sudden I had a villain for my negative fairytale. The worse I thought, the less I talked. Holding in my crazy made me feel stifled, unexpressed and super sensitive. Like I wasn’t being seen. And I wasn’t, because the real me wasn’t showing up. I locked her away in a dungeon somewhere under the alleged crime of “not being independent enough.”

And the truly crazy thing is that I was keeping my mouth shut for fear of opening it and becoming “that girl.” The one who creates problems, gets emotional and is needy. “That girl” that surely no man can tolerate, let alone love (please note sarcasm). But in my desperate attempt to destroy her, I was actually allowing her to envelop me like the blob. My desire to not rock the boat, caused me to just go and flip it right over.

So now that I have fallen in and am all wet, the poo poo has washed away. Drenched in the aftermath of my own hell, I made the immensely self-honoring decision to love myself first and foremost. And guess what? This is what my man loves about me! This is where my independence stems from. My unfaltering love for myself will never leave me wanting or needy. I was foolishly gasping for the air that is always there.

Sometimes we simply forget to be our undeniably fabulous selves. This is why we have great girlfriends and bitchin boyfriends, to help us remember. We just gotta keep asking for exactly what we want. I finally ripped out my guts and laid them on my man’s outstretched arms. He held them gently for me and patiently waited for me to hand him more. “Oh that’s all I got for now honey,” I said. “But could you do me one more favor?”

“Of course,” he sweetly replied.

“Could you make sure I always remember how awesome I am?”

And he said, “You got it babe.”

Proclamation #5: I vow to fiercely honor my pleasure at all times because I know that doing so is the most beautiful and nicest thing I could possibly do for anyone else. 

The One Man Plan


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Oh to dance in a dream…….where blogs don’t get written and clothes stay unfolded. Where time melts unto itself and bliss is the order of the day. Yes, yes, oh yes, I am living this dream. This tickles my butthole to no end because two weeks ago, this fairytale dream was a little more nightmarish.

Picture if you will a lovely lady filled with light and promise frolicking about in the sunshine. She is free and jovial and pets little bunnies on the head as she makes her way through town. Until one day, a dastardly letter comes through the post from the King Killjoy. The letter demands her to stop her frolicking at once and report to the bland, windowless castle on the hill. She obediently arrives before the king only to discover that she has been sentenced to the most gruesome task of all. She is being forced to sit inside all day long and listen to people complain and argue! What a horrid existence. “Why is this happening to me?” she asks her fairy godmother. To which her fairy godmother ironically replies with a smile, “To help you experience more freedom.”

Preposterous! What a backwards answer. And backwards she did go, sliding down the hill, missing the point of her lesson entirely. She spent a solid two days in the dungeon of her own mind hating everything about her circumstance…..circumstance……circumstance. She was pissed that the actions of another human being could impose such dominion over her life. She loathed that someone she didn’t even know could affect her so negatively. Again, “Why am I here?” Again, the fairy godmother appears and offers a sweet morsel of hope. With cupcake scented pixie dust in hand, she showers the lovely lady from head to toe and asks, “What is your opportunity in all of this?”

The pink sprinkles rained down over the bratty babe and eventually absorbed into her fiery, anger laden skin. She felt a tingle that was so sweet, she imagined that she instantly knew why men enjoyed their Gold Bond Medicated Powder so much.  A calm descended and an answer emerged. As in all great things, the answer was love! In her euphoric Gold Bonded state, she felt the oneness of creation. The interconnected greatness we live in is a delicate and powerful web. We wander around this planet affecting strangers in every moment whether we realize it or not. So her opportunity was clear. Be the change young Ghandizzy. Be the love. Be the light. Choose love. It is only through choice that true freedom occurs. In this Viktor Frankl moment, she felt free. Free to love out of choice, not circumstance. Aaaahhhhhhhhhhh……………

Okay, let’s talk about boys!

So guess what? That lovely lady was me! And that bland castle…….The Santa Monica Courthouse. Jury duty was a huge trigger for upset for me. Fortunately, some insight and growth became the silver lining. But as you have probably experienced too, each ah-ha moment gets put to the test. Like instant Karma, I got an immediate life lesson pop quiz.

I hadn’t seen The Climber in two weeks as he was off in Columbus, Ohio saving the world (one natural gas conversion at a time). I missed him, and this bothered me. Strong, independent women don’t take kindly to the likes of longing. How annoying! Before the jury duty sentence, I had planned to pick him up at the airport on Friday and whisk him away to some weekend magic. Simon vs. Levy put an end to that adventure.  Oh well, I could still see him when I got released at 4pm. Or so I thought, until I got punched in the stomach via a facebook email. His persistent friend James would now be picking him up.  Since I told him I was going to be tired after a week of judging my peers, he figured he would hang with James (who would not take no for an answer) and see me the next day. What? Disappointment hit me like screaming tetherball to the cheek. I was left stunned…….and in pain.  This was quite a bit more annoying. I felt physically ill. I felt hurt. So the only logical thing my ego could think of to do was to hurt him back. Oh yes, isn’t that the saying? “An eye for an eye makes you feel oh so much better for a little while.” Or something like that at least. On the drive home, I curiously witnessed my reaction from the watch tower above my body. My higher self shook her head with great compassion as the ego plotted what self-destructive activities the night would entail. What to do? Who to date? So many bad decisions, how does a gal choose just one? As I mulled over my options, I settled in for a little late afternoon wine with the cute neighbors. Gotta start somewhere!

Two glasses in, the climber calls with sweet excitement in his voice. He has landed safely. His friend has picked him up but can no longer hang out tonight. He can still see me. Everything works out. Everyone is happy. Yeah, except for the fact that I am still feeling hurt and therefor acting like a bitch. He easily picks up on the distance between us. “Aren’t you excited to see me?” he asks. Something shakes loose in me. I snap out of it. Yes! Yes I am excited to see you. It is that very reason why I am acting nutty. Then the wine told him how pissed I was, how hurt I was, how cold I had become thinking that I wasn’t going to get to see him tonight. I fell silent, waiting for the reaction on the other end of the line. But it didn’t come. Only an inaudible smile. He was delighted by my frustration. I think he was actually honored and relieved to have elicited a physical reaction in me. Now he had some indication of how I felt about him. Apparently, I hold my emotional cards close to my chest.

When I got to his house later, the wine had worn off, but the tongue was just getting warmed up. The love was flowing smoothly but the honestly flood gates burst open uncontrollably. This poor, beautiful man maintained his gorgeous self even as I verbally vomited all over him for the next 60 minutes. I told him all about my desire to stab back at him after feeling hurt by him. He heard me. Still didn’t judge me. I launched into how I didn’t like the experience of missing him. He didn’t get offended. Still held me. Then the tirade of baby stoppers, vaginal health and even safer sex. He agreed. Still didn’t waiver in his loving of me. Now that I was on a roll, I figured I might as well go for broke. There were the things that were looming, things I hadn’t shared yet. Things that I hadn’t lied about, but held back out of kindness. He knew I was seeing other guys, he just didn’t know I was also writing about it. Writing about him. Adventures in Pleasure Dating was revealed! The jig was up. This one warranted a reaction. His energy sunk and I got scared. Was I going to lose this guy because I was choosing to amuse myself with wildly inappropriate men I wasn’t even interested in? His honesty matched mine. “I don’t like it. I am not going to tell you what to do. I just don’t want to hear about it.” And there it was. The freedom I had been grasping for all week. The freedom to do exactly what I desired and not be judged or reprimanded. And in that moment of acknowledged freedom, I got clear. I don’t want to see those other guys. I just want to see this one.

“I have one more thing to tell you,” I said.

He took a deep and brave breath and asked if we could sit down. I can only imagine what he expected was coming next. On the couch, I turned into a bumbling idiot. I hid my face in the crook of my elbow and spoke through a veil of arm. Every time I looked up at him, a fit of giggles exploded from my face.  What a dummy! Somehow I told him that I had thought I wanted to tell him this for a while. I just didn’t want to tell him while we  were at the show, or while drinking or making love. Pure terror oozed from his eyes. What on earth could she be building up to? Giggles galore. “Okay fine! I am just going to say it. I LOVE YOU! I do. And you don’t have to say it back. I was just expressing everything and it just didn’t make sense not to express this when it feels so present. And it’s my love and I can do whatever I want with it………and……” The rambling would have continued indefinitely had I not lifted my head and witnessed the beaming  smile on my beloved’s face. I could actually see his heart swelling in his chest.  Like everything else I had revealed tonight, this too was received well.

I have graduated. I am now blissfully on The One Man Plan.

Oh Pleazy Young Jeezy


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Recently I was asked out at the gas station!

Picture if you will, the colors of the Arco blue on a stunning Friday afternoon. Venice Beach’s Lincoln Boulevard alive with the almost weekend hustle bustle. The next door Tommy Burger gearing up for the dinner rush. Not quite ready for Friday night fantasticos, I was doing my bustle about town in some saucy gray leggings and my cute dirty hair day cap. Nothing worthy of a double take (or so I thought). I emerge from the Black Pearl (my car), debit card in hand and make myself dizzy whirling around and around looking for the pay station. Perhaps my dance of utter confusion resembled an ancient mating ritual. Perhaps my mad whirling sent up the damsel in distress bat signal. Mid spin I hear, “credit card?” I turn again to lay eyes on a most delicious chocolaty treat. “It’s right there,” he offers with a gorgeously shy smile. Okay, now I feel a little silly. The pay box was right in the middle of the station where it always is. But I do feel like it was a little shorter this time. Like a midget playing hide and seek behind that Chrysler. I express a sheepish and sincere thanks, and bound away. But the dance is not done.

Working my pumping stance, his car rolls up with it’s windows down. Overly confident and a little sleazy he says, “You know you could take me out to dinner to thank me.”

Ha! is the reaction that escapes my filter. “So you need to be rewarded for random acts of kindness?” I challenge. Instantly, confidence is lost. This beautiful, big, strong man bumbles around nervously and this is where my interest is piqued. “Oh, um, or, or we we could just go out for a drink,” he stammers. Now this is sick. Do I all of the sudden raise my eyebrows at the prospect because the power pendulum has swung in my direction? Or am I softened by witnessing a stony facade crumbling down? Either way, he finds his in. In gentlemanly fashion, he ascends from his vehicle to take the lady’s number face to face. He’s happy having made the move and made it victoriously. We’ll be in touch. As I replace the pump, I notice the man getting gas behind me has been watching this whole scene. For just a moment our eyes meet and I can read his mind. “Awwwhh shit, if she gave that brotha her number………” He starts towards me. Eeeekkk I freak! Drivers seat, ignition, out! One gas station encounter a week, that is my max.

Three weeks go by before we actually meet for that drink. There was cute texting of course, laden with politeness and romantic sentiments. I was too wrapped up in my Long Beach longings to give them any real attention. Side Note: My experiences with the Long Beach man are nothing short of amazing. Each moment together fuels a fire that builds in heat and warms our hearts. It can be borderline blissful. Unfortunately, our merry moments together are trumped by long periods of sad separation. If he didn’t travel for work every week would I still be looking elsewhere for beverage boys, flirty friends and cuddle companions? This is a whole other topic. End Side Note.

After a big weekend full of out of town guests, happy hours, late night dancing, biking and concerts, I opt for a mellower meeting. Late night tea time at Urth Cafe. He is cuter than I remember, and much, much taller. The perfection of his coffee-colored skin almost intimidates me. But I think I intimidate him. His manners are charming and sincere, yet jumbled and nervous.

“Oh, I should get that door for you.”

“Do you want something sweet? I bet you like sweet. You look like something sweet.”

“Anything you want, I’ll match that. This is your opportunity to take advantage.”

I assure him that I would never take advantage, not my style. The more honest I am, the more this precious man seems to relax.

His stuttering stops under the glow of the wooded canopy. We cease in talking and begin sharing. He listens with the intent to know. When he speaks it is from the heart and about things that matter to him. Bold enough, he initiates conversation about past relationships, intimacy and sensuality. This is a virtuous and lovely soul. As beautiful as this exchange is, there is a little red light blinking in the back of my mind. Warning! Warning! Impressionable young man in your midst! Oh, but he is so sweet. And he is so attentive. And he is so pure. And he is so………how young?  23 years young! Aaaawwwhhh I am deflated. And almost instantly I feel foolish. But why? The first thought that surfaces is how much I loathe the term “cougar.” It pisses me off. But again, why? Why should I be opposed to any goddess getting hers?

I think this judgment might stem in part from the horrified rants of my gay husband. Nightly, while working at the wine lounge he gets (not so subtly) propositioned by scads of foam-mouthed hyenas (his words, not mine!). He finds them pathetic and scary, especially when they stick their hands down his pants and follow him out to the parking lot. Meow ladies! He calls his place of employment “The Cougar Den” as if he has been hunted, captured and then dragged into a dangerous lair. But I am not out trolling for young bucks I justify to myself. If anything, this is a case of the hunter being captured by the prey. I was pursued by this hunky cub. I realize that my aversion is not to the tasty treat sitting in front of me. He’s right, I do like my sweets. My aversion is to being judged for eating some other little kid’s piece of cake at the birthday party. But what the fuck? This is my cake. Someone brought me this piece. Obviously still feeling the need to argue my point, I remember a very poignant thing that my coach Jo Anna imparted onto me. So effortlessly and frank, the words leapt gloriously from her tongue, “Fabulous people don’t justify what they do.”

Oh how I adored this when I heard it! It instantaneously sliced all of the jibber jabbering wah wahs into oblivion. This statement of triumphant truth gives pleasure the ultimate permission. It dares outrageousness to show up to the party and rock that body. It is the acceptance portal that all goddesses must pass through in order to celebrate the exuberant life within themselves, their own gratified existence. What would you do if you didn’t have to justify your actions to anyone? Oh boy! Criticizers, judgers, naysayers beware! Piss off! I’m fabulous! This notion is a freeing one. One I desire to practice daily.

So am I going to take this newfound freedom and rob the cradle? Who really knows? I am reminded of yet another pearl of wisdom from yet another fabulous friend. The dear Marisa Ann recently texted me after reading my last blog post. Full of praise and encouragement, she added an ending plea. “I love you. Please do me one favor. STOP THINKING AND START FEELING” (yes she used all CAPS!). So this I shall do. I intend to let myself get sucked into the unjustifiable pleasure of emotion, soul and all. My feelers are going to show me the way into the doorway of my own ecstasy. I enter. The party is not nearly over. Time to go enjoy some cake!

Limitless Love


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Last night, I was one of those women. I am talking about the kind of woman that a man salivates for. The kind of anticipation that bubbles up in a man so feverishly that he has to sit on this hands to simmer.   I arrived at LAX last night from a fantastically fun Jewish jamboree of Texas awesome! I went with the family that I nanny for to Houston for a Bar Mitzvah/Rodeo one-two-punch! I love my “job.” The Long Beach Luscious Man insisted on picking me up from the airport. This proved to be a quite a grand gesture as I am usually bribing others to pick me up with promises of breakfast or cocktails for their trouble. But this time, someone else was begging me to let them ride up in a white chariot and whisk me away to my castle. Oh the delight!

And the fairytale I did have! Spotting him from across the parking lot, I sneak, roller bag and all, behind a dense forest covering of F150s, Civics and Escalades. The young girl giddiness rising in me like a sugar rush. Popping out from behind my vehicle blockade, his smile is enough to burst my heart wide open. The embrace, the tender touching of lips, the sigh of a long awaited hello. Chivalrous knight takes my bag. He is tall and strong and bearded! I had mentioned the week prior that the mountain man look really does it for me. He took note. He opens the back hatch of his newly purchased (yes, white!) Land Rover to reveal a bouquet of flowers for yours truly. They reminded him of me, wild and colorful. Awwwwhhhhhh, swoon!. Another example of his attentiveness. Last week in my bedroom he notices a filled vase, and with a hint of jealous curiosity asks, “So who is buying you flowers?” Sly, yet bold, I respond, “I am!” He proclaims he wants to be the one to adorn my sleeping space. So be it, dashing prince. But the fun is not done. My attempt to hoist myself up into his leather seated carriage is foiled. Something has taken my seat. A brightly colored box stares back at me. “What is this?” I smile. “Oh, just something for my mom,” he teases. Oh really? So, does your mom wear the same perfume as me? The very one that I just happened to run out of this week? He has done it again. This time a one-two-three punch, and I am out.

The rest of the night that follows is pure bliss, whether we are pumping gas, donning red sequined cowboy hats or wrapped up in each other’s warmth. This man is a gem. He is a true knight and I must remember to acknowledge him as such. Especially if I desire to be the queen of it all. Because honestly, I do want it all. I want the knight, the lover, the friend, the confidant, the hero, the jokester, the travel companion, and the list goes on and on. I desire to savor every juicy morsel of life with my man, squeeze out it’s fresh juices and let the liquid envelope me. But is my wanting for it all actually causing me to miss out on the most delicious experience of all? Love.

I watch my behavior with pensive curiosity. Each time I get a little bit closer to the Long Beach Climber, a little more intimate, I steal away my own attention. I jump back on OKCupid. I make an effort to contact past crushes. I allow that 22 year-old to flirt with me and but his hand on the small of my back. Baby girl, what are you doing? Why this need to look to the sides and distract myself from something very real in front of me? The answer that comes forward is one of not wanting to limit myself. The idea of settling is a huge trigger for me. It infuriates me actually. I truly believe that we are all immensely powerful beings, capable of conjuring up anything that we desire. So then why would we choose anything less than the fullness of our dreams?

Well, sometimes it is because we are lazy. Sometimes we forget that we possess the same magical acuity of a warlock. And sometimes there are beliefs swarming around in our precious little minds telling us that what we crave most is just not possible. These vicious thought villains must be struck down with great fury! This is where I must be my own knight and hunt down the foes in my head with absolute vigilance. In the deliciously full life that I experience, there is no room for blah blahs and wah wahs. Limiting beliefs be gone! In this statement, I realize that it is never any one man that will hold me back in life. It is purely the thoughts in my own mind that will be responsible for any un-fulfillment I experience. With fear and doubt lingering, 1,000 different men couldn’t keep life spicy for me.

I am reminded once more that the clarity of my desires is sooooo important. I must be real with myself not only on what I want to have, but also the essence of what I desire to feel. I desire to feel love! Does this mean I have to allow myself to fall in love with Long Beach Boy? No rules mama! I get to experience love in every wonderful way, shape and form. No limits. Nothing ever means anything unless we believe it to be. This is how powerful we are.


I am now so inspired, I am off to write my ideal scenes for experiencing love AND for my invigorating pleasure coaching practice. If you desire to uplift your life into alignment with your desires, feel free to contact me. It is my absolute pleasure to be in loving service to your divine life.


Your Sequined Rodeo Goddess!