<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714</id><updated>2011-12-14T22:06:42.299-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sapphic Southern Belle</title><subtitle type='html'>I'm an 18 year old lesbian attending a women's college somewhere in the south. This is a chronicling of my dalliances and desires, both fufilled and unfulfilled.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-5706677160167244909</id><published>2007-10-10T12:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T12:31:22.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I'm Not Cut Out For This</title><content type='html'>Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, dykes and fags, homos and breeders. You've missed a lot. Time to play catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after my last post, I broke it off with Bruh again. She just had not been treating me right, and our constant fighting coupled with some information I had received that I will touch on later was enough to make me want to end it. However as we have a dog together and I immediately exercised my visitation rights, we ended up slipping back into the old routine of togetherness. I'm wondering now if this was the right choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About the aforementioned information: While Bruh and I were broken up over the summer, she fucked my friend. Correction: My best friend. Betch. The girl who was supposed to be my comrade, my partner, my ally. Turns out she fucked the girl I was in love with twice and was hanging out with her and feeding her confidential information the whole time, including the fact that I was pretty regularly seeing the Virginian while Bruh and I were broken up. This intelligence was relayed to me at 3:30AM by a coked out, hysterically crying Betch while I was sleeping over at Bruh's house. Three days before my birthday. Not only did they have sex behind my back, they lied about it continuously. Needless to say, Betch and I are not so close these days, despite her begging forgiveness and me granting it. I forgive her- but I don't want friends like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to trust Bruh since, either. I try to keep it inside, but it really has affected my feelings towards her. I don't feel as open with her, and I definitely care a lot less what she thinks. I don't respond as well sexually anymore either. Sex with her used to be SO HOT. Now it's not nearly as exciting, and I don't get as crazy when we go a few days without.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another issue: I am pretty sure Bruh is transgendered. She really wants to be a man. Reasons for speculation: We met in January and started having sex in February. I have never been anything but on the receiving end. I didn't see her naked at all until mid August. I have touched her exactly once, when we were both ridiculously drunk. She dresses exactly like a man. She resists the idea of anything remotely feminine. She balked wholeheartedly at the idea of getting a blazer in the women's department. She is a member of an all lesbian organization that calls itself a FRATERNITY. What the fuck?! A fraternity, by definition, can NOT be comprised of females. And this isn't about dating a transgender- I could date a male to female, but as a lesbian, I think it's pretty clear that I don't like men. So that rules out female to male.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point is, I'm having doubts. I wish that when I had gone to pick up my stuff that day it had been the last time I went over there with her present. I love Bruh, I really do. But I KNOW she's not right for me. And of course, there are other feminine girls that are distractions to me- namely, Dragonfly and still the Virginian. I can honestly say that I have no idea what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very confused&lt;br /&gt;Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-5706677160167244909?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/5706677160167244909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=5706677160167244909' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5706677160167244909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5706677160167244909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/10/maybe-im-not-cut-out-for-this.html' title='Maybe I&apos;m Not Cut Out For This'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-7468448653572424659</id><published>2007-09-17T14:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T15:03:46.268-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls</title><content type='html'>As a professional lesbian of the greater [city that I live in] area, going to a women's college, and being one myself, I would say that it is a pretty accurate statement that I know a thing or two about girls. I'd also say that in many ways I have a distinct advantage over men who want the same thing that I do with girls- primarily, relationships, a steady stream of booty, etc. I mean after all I am privy to certain information and benefits that men just can not have. That being said, I would like to point out that despite this leg up, there are definitely disadvantages that very well may deem being a lesbian just as challenging if not moreso than being a straight man when it comes to trying to get and keep women. Not to mention keeping sane during this process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, to the skeptical Y-chromosome bearing readers: Think about how your girlfriend would feel if your best friend was a girl. She may pretend to be cool with it, but on the inside, even the most confident girl would not be thrilled at the idea of you spending one-on-one time with another female of no relation to you, especially when you could be doing something else more useful, like buying her jewelry or washing her car. She will resent this friend and if you are not careful it could eventually lead to a crash and burn breakup or a deterioration of the friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, imagine this female best friend of your is someone you have already dated, or at least slept with. Your girlfriend would be livid at the mere mention of her name. Under no circumstances would she want you to be alone with this girl. If you were ever caught alone with this girl, even if you were doing nothing more exciting than playing a thrilling round of Bingo, it would be stricken immediately as a breach of trust. Your girlfriend would pitch a fit. She might even cry. One way or another, you can be damn certain that she would pull out her pink rhinestone cell phone and call every other girl she knows to talk shit about "that bitch" and moan about how good she is to you and how you treat her like dirt, you fucking asshole. And you would be labeled as a bad boyfriend, and she and every other "independent woman" she ran her mouth to would believe this to be justified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This situation is EVERY LESBIAN RELATIONSHIP. The lesbian community is a lot smaller than the straight one, folks, especially in the south. Chances are, if you're dating a new girl, she has already dated and/or fucked at least two of your friends, maybe more, depending on the size of your town and how long she has been out. Girls are naturally quite jealous creatures but for the sake of seeming "evolved" the lesbians try to pretend that they are past it. So what if you have had sex with every person at a party? So what if your best friend is someone you still occasionally hook up with in between relationships? This creates a conundrum, because lesbians still have all of those straight girl instincts with the calling and the moaning and the labeling of the bad girlfriend, but they have to pretend that they have overcome them for the sake of avoiding constant war at every social situation. This bottling up effect creates stress and distrust, ending many relationships and starting the vicious cycle all over again as the recently singled women go in search of their new lady lovers. The lesbian tree can only grow so far, and the branches are VERY intertwined. Lesbians pass each other around like joints at a Pink Floyd concert. By the time it gets to you, who knows how many people have had their lips on it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not saying that all lesbians are promiscuous or have an inordinate amount of relationships. I think they have sex with about the same number of people and about the same many monogamous relationships as anyone else, it just so happens that everyone knows each other. Heterosexuals who live anywhere with a population of greater than 5000 have the mind-easing benefit of a certain amount of anonymity where a partner's former relationships are concerned, and they certainly don't have to see the exes out at any club they go to. There is no such thing as anonymity in the recycling plant that is homosexuality, and there are only three bars that you can hold hands in and not be refused service. What's a girl to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a little carried away on that example. The point is... dating women is a ton of work and very often a total pain in the ass, for lesbians or straight men, and yet I love them so much that I keep doing it. I'm glad I have the lifestyle and advantages that I do, but sometimes it's enough to drive me insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girls. Can't live with 'em, can't REALLY live without 'em.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.- I really do love my girlfriend, this is just ranting. Though she drives me insane too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-7468448653572424659?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/7468448653572424659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=7468448653572424659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7468448653572424659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7468448653572424659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/09/girls.html' title='Girls'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-3223910510161713936</id><published>2007-09-14T15:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T15:44:24.222-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Bitches Driving Me Crazy</title><content type='html'>I am trying to be impartial about my roommate, the notorious Lovedrug, who has proven herself to be in the last three weeks several things I had never detected in her personality before, namely up-tight, controlling, overbearing, and passive-aggressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as I love women, I hate them even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christ help me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-3223910510161713936?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/3223910510161713936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=3223910510161713936' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3223910510161713936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3223910510161713936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/09/crazy-bitches-driving-me-crazy.html' title='Crazy Bitches Driving Me Crazy'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-6264190069431433908</id><published>2007-09-04T22:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T22:53:51.634-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Updates</title><content type='html'>Hello, old friends. A few updates to give you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Somehow, by the grace of God or otherwise, I managed to convince Bruh that she should take me back.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have successfully treated her wrong time and again, but I am working on getting better.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm back at my private conservative women's college for at least one more year. Loving it for the time being. Lovedrug is my roommate, and Guitar Hero and Shakesqueer are my suitemates. Really couldn't ask for better living conditions.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Bruh and I just got a dog! He's adorable. A pitbull, actually, to go with the pit-boxer mix that she already had and that I have adopted.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's been a long time! Summer was busy for me. A few highlights: Bruh got mono, I wrecked my car, my brother got engaged, I worked at a chain restaurant, I quit working at a chain restaurant, and I drank a lot of wine. Trust me, it was busier than it sounds.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Current location: My incredibly comfortable, down-padded, pillow laden dorm bed. Current want: Sex. Lots and lots of it. It's been almost a week. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love and glad to be back,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-6264190069431433908?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/6264190069431433908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=6264190069431433908' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6264190069431433908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6264190069431433908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/09/updates.html' title='Updates'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-4862946111618983095</id><published>2007-07-16T20:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T21:06:43.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Epiphany</title><content type='html'>I fucked things up pretty good this time, folks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;List of grievances filed against me in Sapphic Southern Belle v. Bruh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Owning a cellular device containing text messages of a flirtatious manner sent to persons other than the plaintiff, including but not limited to requests for naked pictures of the aforesaid persons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Staying out all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Blatantly lying about whereabouts whilst actually having dinner with another lesbian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. General bitchiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Gratuitous sexual intercourse with multiple partners during the entire duration of the plaintiff's and defendant's six month relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll own up to all but 5. I haven't been fucking anyone while officially with Bruh. However, I can't blame her for not trusting me at this point, so I'm not even going to try to convince her that it isn't true. She's so adamant about it. She says we can't begin to deal with everything that has happened and move on from it until I've been completely upfront. Well, here's a newsflash, Bruh: I HAVE BEEN. I'm not going to make up some false infidelities to reassure her that she's right. She's never going to believe me, and I can't change that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This relationship has taught me more than I ever thought possible. Right now I feel emotionally and mentally exhausted. The next girl that comes along, I'm going to take it slow and be completely upfront with her. It's funny to me to think that I'm not even going to try to play in the future. It's also funny to me that I'm not going to be dating anyone for a very long time. See, I don't even know anyone right now that I would be interested in dating, and even if I met someone amazing this week, I'd still want to get to know them pretty intensely before I would even consider another girlfriend. So the earliest I'd be in a relationship (and I do mean the earliest) is around October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Biggest lesson I learned from Bruh:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;You can't treat the ones you care about the way you treat the ones you don't care about, because you will lose them, and you will definitely care about that. And it will hurt like a bitch.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This marks a turning point in my life. I believe it is time for me to take a bow, because the main player has left the stage. There's a younger, less mature, and more generously endowed lesbian on the scene who coincidentally has my same given name as well as my former problems with commitment. We'll call her Betch. I think it's clear to me that I no longer have the problems I was once plagued with. She can take over where I left off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one and only,&lt;br /&gt;The lovely and confused,&lt;br /&gt;The wounded but still proud,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-4862946111618983095?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/4862946111618983095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=4862946111618983095' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4862946111618983095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4862946111618983095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/07/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-8495989535227782740</id><published>2007-06-24T12:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T12:50:52.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A word of advice...</title><content type='html'>Don't creep, friends.&lt;br /&gt;And if you do, erase your text messages on a regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The recently single and thoroughly heartbroken&lt;br /&gt;Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-8495989535227782740?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/8495989535227782740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=8495989535227782740' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8495989535227782740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8495989535227782740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/06/word-of-advice.html' title='A word of advice...'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-2779200146971444794</id><published>2007-05-21T21:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T21:09:51.745-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spoke Too Soon</title><content type='html'>Do words have carbs in them? I hope not, because I'm definitely eating mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not only are Bruh and I back on, we're OFFICIALLY back on. And by officially I mean she's my girlfriend, I'm her girlfriend, and I could officially get in big trouble if I hooked up with anyone else. And yesterday she told me she loved me. For the very first time. I mean, actually said the words "I love you. I do." I'm telling you, my stomach flipped like I was on a roller coaster and I couldn't help but gasp. She's signed letters "Love." She's said she has love for me. She's made other indications, both verbal and non. But I didn't think I would hear that actual three word sentence come out of her mouth for a loooooong time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Old Faithful is no longer so faithful. She's not speaking to me. Said it's too hard to get past her feelings when she sees me dating someone else. I wish things were different. She really does mean a lot to me. But I can't sacrifice my happiness for her comfort. Time for both of us to move on, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-2779200146971444794?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/2779200146971444794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=2779200146971444794' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/2779200146971444794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/2779200146971444794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/05/spoke-too-soon_21.html' title='Spoke Too Soon'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-9180648621142291999</id><published>2007-05-17T21:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T21:36:56.408-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spoke Too Soon</title><content type='html'>Do my words have carbs in them? I hope not, because I am currently eating them, and that would be disastrous for the Adkins diet that I am practicing for the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruh and I are broken up. And I am sure that I can say with certainty that this time it is FOR GOOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This doesn't really change a whole lot for this blog's status. I have no sex drive whatsoever right now. And I'm not dating the entire summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have fun summertiming, friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-9180648621142291999?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/9180648621142291999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=9180648621142291999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/9180648621142291999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/9180648621142291999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/05/spoke-too-soon.html' title='Spoke Too Soon'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-6067791794940825795</id><published>2007-05-13T22:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-13T23:00:15.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Lovin'</title><content type='html'>Days have been swimming by in a blur of packing, exams, moving, working, unpacking, and Bruh. Of course I've made time for friends (especially those also returning home for the summer) but my girl has been the main thing on my mind these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I'm really going to write much for a little while. I originally made this journal to document my lascivicious and somewhat promiscuous adventures that I'm accustomed to having. But lately I've been pretty much a settled nester, no longer even considering fooling around with anyone besides my main squeeze. Bruh and I are making plans to move in together within the next year. Our sex life is still great, but it's just that... ours. Anything I could write here would be more about our love life than sex life, and it doesn't seem fair to post something so private on something so public as a blog. Especially a blog that she (mercifully) knows absolutely nothing about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So take care, gentle readers. Hopefully you won't hear from me for awhile, provided everything is still going well, but who knows? Things may not work out. Or maybe I'll just pop in some time to write about a particularly steamy night...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-6067791794940825795?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/6067791794940825795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=6067791794940825795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6067791794940825795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6067791794940825795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/05/summer-lovin.html' title='Summer Lovin&apos;'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-8935927976895214498</id><published>2007-05-01T15:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T15:19:12.518-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shacking Up</title><content type='html'>I just realized what an injustice I have been doing my faithful readers. In between Thursday and Monday, my two most recent posts, that whole celibacy thing went right out of the window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruh and I had "Sober Night" on Thursday and stayed in together cooking, watching movies, and eventually, having amazing sex. In both of our defenses we put it off for as long as possible but even without the influence of our usual whiskey sours it was just inevitable that she would end up on top of me. I orgasmed with her for the first time in probably a month. Granted, for the majority of that month we have not been sleeping together regularly, but the point is, I finally got off. Downside: sleeping on the wet spot. When handled correctly I am one of the wettest females I know. It's like a Slip 'N Slide down there. Every girl I have ever been with has greatly enjoyed it, but especially Bruh. She just can't get enough of it. Which she proved by coming over as soon as I returned from the beach on Sunday and fucking me again. I really honestly had far too much to do on Sunday to justify an all-day thing (as did she), so I kicked her out at around 9:45PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the night with her last night, but unfortunately, no booty. We had a nice night together but she had a lot on her mind. She's one of those where if she has anything other than sex going on in facet of her life, she simply cannot perform. I was disappointed (and yeah, I'll admit it, pretty pissed) but what can you do? I often have to remind myself that no matter how much she may resemble a man, she is still a woman. Meaning she thinks like one and has the sex drive of one. I have never yet met a woman who could keep up with my voracious sex drive. I shouldn't expect her to be any different just because she wears Polos and has short hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...Sober night really was exceptional, though. If neither of us drinks, then we don't fight. It's that simple. Which is why we've implemented a new rule- we will only have the same number of drinks as the other person, with a limit of three, no matter what the situation. I think it is a wise move for our relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, Bruh keeps hinting at me moving in with her for the summer. Sheesh! And here I was thinking I'd be lucky to get half of a spare drawer at her place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-8935927976895214498?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/8935927976895214498/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=8935927976895214498' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8935927976895214498'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8935927976895214498'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-just-realized-what-injustice-i-have.html' title='Shacking Up'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-83211096642964768</id><published>2007-04-30T11:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T11:46:52.154-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prophesy Fulfilled</title><content type='html'>Returned yesterday from a fabulous girls' weekend at the beach with Lotus, Guitar Hero, Shakesqueer, and Lovedrug. We had a great time, despite Shakesqueer's random bouts of bitchiness and having to place a $100 deposit on the hotel because we are not 21.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Started the first night off right with a big ol' pitcher of fuzzy navels. They were absolutely delicious- using the peach flavored vodka really does make all the difference. Ended the night right with a steamy makeout session in the hot tub... with Guitar Hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say? I knew it would happen one day. I just didn't know it would be so fucking intense. It was way better than any dream I've ever had about her. Her lips are absolutely perfect. Softer even than mine, probably. The next night was more of the same, except that she was entirely sober and initiated it, and I was the drunk one playing along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night we had a very sobering talk, however. It really is bad timing. I feel strongly for Bruh, and besides, I don't break new girls in. I told her that I would consider being an "us" at another time, when my schedule wasn't already so crowded and she was more sure of what she wants. Otherwise, things will end up being just like my relationship with the Virginian, a first timer who was two years younger and about a thousand times more emotional than me. We broke up over a year ago, and I &lt;em&gt;still&lt;/em&gt; have to deal with her shit every day. I do it because I care about her, and I wouldn't trade that for anything, but I definitely don't need an encore with Guitar Hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Faithful sent me an extremely random text message on Saturday night while I was hooking up with Guitar Hero. It said simply, "i don't think you'll ever be monogamous." What the fuck?! I didn't know what to say to that, so I said nothing. First of all, I'm eighteen years old. What or who I do at this stage of my life is not even remotely indicative of what I may or may not do or be in the future. Second of all, who is someone else to judge what I am or am not? No one knows me, not really, at least not well enough to make such a broad and all-encompassing statement such as that one. Third of all, I'm going to get married before I'm 30 years old. And yes, I'm Catholic, and definitely respect the sanctity of the sacrament of marriage. So yes- I &lt;strong&gt;will&lt;/strong&gt; be monogamous. Perhaps sometimes people should think before they text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-83211096642964768?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/83211096642964768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=83211096642964768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/83211096642964768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/83211096642964768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/prophesy-fulfilled.html' title='Prophesy Fulfilled'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-4943773760673398924</id><published>2007-04-26T13:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-26T13:50:25.758-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cravings</title><content type='html'>Celibacy is going alright. Unfortunately I am surrounded all the time by hot femme black girls. Which happen to be very much to my taste, lately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-4943773760673398924?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/4943773760673398924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=4943773760673398924' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4943773760673398924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4943773760673398924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/cravings.html' title='Cravings'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-5098997403369517109</id><published>2007-04-23T12:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-23T12:39:35.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange But True</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking. I want to actually try being honest and not sleeping with other people when my heart is already with someone else. Bruh and I are off right now, so I'm not sleeping with her either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You heard it first, folks. The Sapphic Southern Belle is temporarily celibant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-5098997403369517109?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/5098997403369517109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=5098997403369517109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5098997403369517109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5098997403369517109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/strange-but-true.html' title='Strange But True'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-5713181774874256305</id><published>2007-04-22T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-22T22:09:08.424-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Times</title><content type='html'>Friday night, after a long day and evening of running around at work in stilettos, Clown Momma picked me up for a night out. In the car with her was a very drunken Snowflake, a hot bisexual girl that I had a drunken hookup with a few weeks ago. (Don't worry. No awkward moments.) I had to do the usual amount of consoling about the hickey still on my neck that Bruh left last week, but Clown Momma seemed very happy to see me after I had gotten her over that. We proceeded to the strip club, accompanied by a nice fresh bottle of Southern Comfort, which happens to be my favorite food group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clown Momma looked smokin' hot. She was wearing this androgynous, Shane from the L Word-esque outfit, complete with hoop earrings, which for some reason I found to be a big turn on. (Then again, that may have been due to the fact that I swigged a good couple of shots of SoCo and we were surrounded by naked, gyrating women.) I was looking pretty hot myself- black lacy tank top, my favorite low-rise tan corduroys that hug and emphasize &lt;em&gt;all&lt;/em&gt; the right places, and the aforementioned black stilettos. I was ready for some serious partying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few hot hours of watching the strippers, socializing with the other people with us, and grinding on Clown Momma's very sexy lap, I whispered into her ear that I was definitely ready to leave. She definitely got my drift. We were out of that place before she even finished her beer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at my place and I hopped into the shower to wash off the smells/feelings of work and smoke from the club. Unfortunately, as soon as I had gotten out of the shower and into my cute underwear, Snowflake called to say that she had left her keys in Clown Momma's car and couldn't get into her apartment. I went with Clown Momma to give them to her... in my underwear. Only the Sapphic Southern Belle would drive across town at 4AM in 40 degree weather in only her skivvies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got back, it was ON. Her hands in my hair, my hands on her hips, her teeth on my neck. (How do these girls know how much I love to be bitten? Or... do they not know, but just like to leave bruises on me as a branding system? Sheesh.) Her body is amazing and so is how incredibly soft her skin is. God, what a great lay. I thought she'd be a softer lover based on the way she kissed, but she was far more rough than I expected. And a marathon fucker at that! She's definitely a bottom by nature, but knows that I love an aggressive woman, so she was putting it on me hardcore. I let her flip me over into every position she wanted and threw in a few of my favorites as well. Mmm, a hair puller, a bossy hair puller. Nothing turns me on like someone making me behave. Especially since it happens so rarely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 6:15AM, Shakesqueer called me to remind me that I was scheduled to do volunteer work at 7. I hadn't been to sleep yet, and was actually still in the middle of being fucked by Clown Momma. Needless to say, I didn't make it to the volunteer site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I definitely enjoyed my all-nighter with Clown Momma, but unfortunately for both of us she was on her period. I really, &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; enjoy performing cunnilingus. However, I may be seeing her next week, so hopefully I'll have the opportunity then. But despite not being able to do what I do best, the fuckfest tided my appetite over until the next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One little detail that I'd rather not mention but feel that I should for the sake of honesty: I threw up a little on her car door. The inside of it. It was &lt;em&gt;highly&lt;/em&gt; embarassing, especially as I was not even drunk yet. And she took care of me so well, thinking I was a sweet and innocent sick girl. Poor Clown Momma... she really has no idea what she's gotten into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-5713181774874256305?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/5713181774874256305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=5713181774874256305' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5713181774874256305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/5713181774874256305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/first-times.html' title='First Times'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-3558697705999701189</id><published>2007-04-19T13:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T13:42:12.146-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conclusions and Catfights</title><content type='html'>I've come to the realization that if I could be anywhere in the world right now, it would be in Bruh's arms. I've also come to the realization that she will never be anything but bad for me, so I should just let it go. I'm seeing several other girls right now; there's no reason why I should be hung up on just one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Passion. God damned nuisance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the bright side, I discovered possibly the most delightful website in the history of the internet. Visit &lt;a href="http://www.ultimatesurrendergirls.com"&gt;www.ultimatesurrendergirls.com&lt;/a&gt;. Whoever came up with this idea is a genius. They deserve a gold star. And a cookie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-3558697705999701189?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/3558697705999701189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=3558697705999701189' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3558697705999701189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3558697705999701189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/conclusions-and-catfights.html' title='Conclusions and Catfights'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-8984872241886526754</id><published>2007-04-19T10:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T11:09:01.022-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Girls Finish Last</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my good friend Bebop picked me up around 2PM to hang out at his house. Immediately upon arrival we got started on some vodka mixers. By three o'clock I was well into a state of drunkenness and continued drinking for the rest of the afternoon, night, and early morning hours, though I switched from vodka to Crown and Coke around 10 or so. A little list of my activities of the evening, gathered from my own vague recollections and the less cloudy renditions of other present parties:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- getting my tragus pierced&lt;br /&gt;- showing up unannounced at Bruh's house&lt;br /&gt;- recieving a hickey I do not remember&lt;br /&gt;- fondling Polka's boobs repeatedly&lt;br /&gt;- making out with Old Faithful&lt;br /&gt;- making out with Clown Momma&lt;br /&gt;- making out with Spectacles&lt;br /&gt;- kissing/hugging/groping (not sure which?) OG&lt;br /&gt;- "ejecting" myself from the sunroof of a car&lt;br /&gt;- discussing literature with Spectacles with my hand down her shirt&lt;br /&gt;- calling my grandmother and brother to tell them I love them&lt;br /&gt;- determining a booty call code sentence with Pimpin&lt;br /&gt;- waking up still extremely drunk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uh.... I think I should take a nap. I had a very busy evening.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-8984872241886526754?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/8984872241886526754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=8984872241886526754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8984872241886526754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/8984872241886526754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/good-girls-finish-last.html' title='Good Girls Finish Last'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-3720392930010434551</id><published>2007-04-17T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T15:46:28.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Encore?</title><content type='html'>Tonight marks the second date I have cancelled on account of Bruh. We're not back together. The fact of the matter is, I just feel like shit about it all. Can't really see myself performing to the best of my abilities this evening. So I decided that it would be better to take yet another rain check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a good girlfriend, if you manage to get ahold of me. I love fast and hard. A little too fast and hard, I think. This feels like an interstate wreck going 110 mph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't cried yet, but I'm sure the next time I get drunk it will all come out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-3720392930010434551?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/3720392930010434551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=3720392930010434551' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3720392930010434551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/3720392930010434551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/encore.html' title='Encore?'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-7683818632897079201</id><published>2007-04-17T00:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T00:13:18.079-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Grand Finale</title><content type='html'>Things are finished with Bruh, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess this means I don't have to feel guilty about fucking Old Faithful last night, or the fact that Bar Blondie is coming over tomorrow to "watch movies"...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-7683818632897079201?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/7683818632897079201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=7683818632897079201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7683818632897079201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7683818632897079201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/grand-finale.html' title='Grand Finale'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-4252559486324129398</id><published>2007-04-14T15:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-15T13:08:12.348-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Devotion</title><content type='html'>I decided to cancel the Clown Momma slumber party in favor of sleeping in my own bed after a long night at work and finally shaking off the remnants of this blasted cold I've been plagued with. Took a rain check and bundled off to bed after a hot shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1:30 A.M.&lt;br /&gt;Ring, ring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was Bruh. She was drunk, disoriented, and having some sort of nervous breakdown in concerns to me. Was convinced I was going to up and leave her, and that her evening out with friends had confirmed that. She said she needed to see me immediately, but I vetoed her coming to get me because she was ridiculously intoxicated. She belligerently said that she was going to see me one way or another, and that if I didn't find another way to get to her, she was going to drive anyway. So Shakesqueer, being the amazing friend that she is, drove me across town to Bruh in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I arrived Bruh was halfway passed out in the guest bedroom with a hickey on her neck. I had heard about the hickey and decided in light of recent events that it would not be exactly democratic of me if I was to get angry about it, especially as she didn't fuck the girl. So I tucked her into bed, listened to her blubber a little while, and let her hold me in a death grip all night. Sheesh. Women. Bruh's feminine side comes out every time she's drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But on the bright side... we had great sex this afternoon before I left. Still didn't get off (I almost never get off in day sex) but I NEEDED that. Mmmmm, penetration. I still need about twelve hours more (I'm talking all night fuckathon) but it was a nice appetizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-4252559486324129398?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/4252559486324129398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=4252559486324129398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4252559486324129398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4252559486324129398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/i-decided-to-cancel-clown-momma-slumber.html' title='Devotion'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-7672496714669979642</id><published>2007-04-12T10:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T10:27:02.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Afterthought</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to encourage everyone who wishes to leave a comment to do so. But remember, if you are one of the RARE people who know my actual identity, keep it anonymous. I have to protect the identities of my ladyfriends, not mention keep myself out of trouble. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-7672496714669979642?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/7672496714669979642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=7672496714669979642' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7672496714669979642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7672496714669979642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/afterthought.html' title='Afterthought'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-6341516238426369597</id><published>2007-04-11T23:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T00:18:30.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Day</title><content type='html'>In addition to presenting a budget to a committee for the campus' Gay/Straight Alliance, writing a term paper, and a meeting with a professor, in the past twenty-four hours, I have kissed three women, and fucked two out of three. And I didn't have the time to shower between any of them. GROSS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know, I know. You're terribly curious. The first, obviously, was Bruh. After an evening of fighting I went to stay the night at her place. We actually had a lot of big breakthroughs in our relationship (starting to get into family shit... I'm scared but willing to proceed) but only fucked for fifteen minutes or so. Scarily enough, it's starting to feel like "love making," as much as I hate that term as well as that action. I can't be myself in bed when I have to "make love" to someone. I mean, I'm an emotional person, I have feelings, but sometimes- I just want to FUCK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second, not so obviously, was Old Faithful. We've fooled around occasionally since our breakup, always randomly. Today it was a last minute thing, literally. It was 7:32PM, and I had actually already walked her down out of my building when I had a whim and informed her that she would be coming back up to my room for a moment. It was decent. I felt pretty guilty the whole time so I couldn't really get into it. I walked her back down at 7:49PM, but she forgot her hat, so I didn't actually get back to my room until 7:52PM. I had a date with Clown Momma at 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The date was wonderful, actually, despite my reservations about seeing other people. We had dinner at an Italian restaurant and then came back to my house to watch a movie. Five minutes into it, I turned to her and said, "I don't want to watch a movie. I hate almost every movie I've ever seen. I just really, really want to smoke a clove, and I want to make out with you, for a really, really long time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We never did smoke that clove.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like the way Clown Momma kisses... It's been awhile since I've been with anyone soft. She was very tactile, running her hands up and down my arms and just generally paying attention to every visible area of skin. Eventually there became more areas to pay attention to, as we both ended up topless. (She started it. True story.) In any case, that was as far as things got, both because it was getting late and because I could not live with myself if I fucked three girls in one day WITHOUT showering at all. Too raunchy even for me. In other news... Clown Momma is spending the night with me Friday. I'm sort of double booked, since Baritone Neonazi (a guy friend of mine who used to try really hard to get me to have a threesome with him) is coming over with a bottle of my best pal, Southern Comfort. I'll have him out early and have her in late. I honestly don't think we'll have sex, though. It's very lesbian chic to have a first sleepover with panties remaining on. If you wear panties, that is, which I don't. But you get the picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's Old Faithful texting me, asking me to stay the night with her. Not tonight, pal. I've had a busy day. Time to kick back in my own bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet dreams, y'all.&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-6341516238426369597?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/6341516238426369597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=6341516238426369597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6341516238426369597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6341516238426369597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/busy-day.html' title='Busy Day'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-6122397875989082557</id><published>2007-04-10T15:25:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-10T15:55:09.261-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dildos, Dating, &amp; Drag</title><content type='html'>I've made what I consider to be a very important decision: I'm giving up all of my sex toys. &lt;strong&gt;Especially&lt;/strong&gt; the ones with vibration. At least for now, while I'm in a sexual relationship. I've come to the conclusion that they're really terribly bad for your sex life. While it's true that I do have nerve damage from some back injuries that have caused me to be less receptive to external sensation in some ways (I'm not ticklish, for example), I think that my steady, longterm use of vibrators is more responsible for why I take so long to come. My orgasms are extremely intense when achieved with a partner, but take more patience than the average lesbian has (myself included) to induce. It's definitely not lack of skill on behalf of a partner- &lt;em&gt;definitely &lt;/em&gt;not. Especially not with my current lady love. Mmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I am finding myself in an increasingly complicated situation. Bruh and I are not officially dating, and yet there are rules applying to our relationship. She's being monogamous for the first time in FOUR YEARS. Four fucking years! (It's times like these that I'm more thankful than ever that the lesbian community is the least affected by STDs.) And I know without a doubt that if Bruh was to have any inclination that I was sleeping with someone else the results would be disastrous if not violent. That being said, I don't understand how it is that I can obligated to not see anyone else when Bruh is not my girlfriend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had recent dalliances with both Isis and Old Faithful within twenty-four hours of each other. I have a date scheduled with Clown Momma tomorrow. Bar Blondie has been calling and texting me more and more in the past couple of weeks, as well as Gunshow. Oh, and the straight girls... Guitar Hero has stayed almost every night with me in the past week and The Bulgarian Blossom, despite claiming to be strictly dickly, has been eyeing me for weeks and offering to "help me study"... who the fuck studies for theatre? Sounds great, right? Eight hot, willing girls who are awesome in their own separate ways at my fingertips? Especially when I know I could get away with it and Bruh would never know the difference? Yeah, it does sound great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for one little detail.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like shit about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If only Bruh didn't have such a hold on me, didn't make me so damn happy. I don't even know how I got into this- she's far more masculine than I would normally be attracted to. I mean, she looks like a man, no questions asked. Gets called sir in public places and everything. I've always been attracted to androgyny and drag kings have always been a sweet spot of mine, but this is like transgenderism- she's living in drag! How is that any different from dating a man? And even more disturbing- I had a dream once that I was giving her a blowjob. Yes, a blowjob. I don't think she was a man in the dream, or at least I couldn't actually see if there was a penis, but the head she was recieving was referred to in the dream as a blowjob. What the fuck?! I'm gay!! I give a lot of head, but I don't give BLOWJOBS!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever. I'm staying with her tonight. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-6122397875989082557?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/6122397875989082557/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=6122397875989082557' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6122397875989082557'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6122397875989082557'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/dildos-dating-drag.html' title='Dildos, Dating, &amp; Drag'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-7133679835938316296</id><published>2007-04-07T17:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-07T17:15:37.599-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Freudian Snip</title><content type='html'>I had this dream about Guitar Hero. It's one of those teasingly realistic dreams that leaves you half wondering if it really happened. It starts out with me cutting her hair- I cut all of my friends' hair- in my dorm room, Fiona Apple in the background. It's all friendly enough. But as I'm leaning down to snip away some hair near her face, she leans upwards- ever so slightly- and places her perfect, apple-red lips on my neck. And again. And again. Mmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream tension escalated as her lips moved deep kisses over my neck, up to nibble slightly at my ears, down to caress my cleavage and back up again to my cheek, finally pressing against my mouth. It was so real- I could taste her, feel her, smell her. Vanilla, she smelled like vanilla. The scissors forgotten, I straddled her and buried my hands in her hair, kissing her ripe lips and touching her face and neck. Then... my phone rang. Thank you, Bruh, for interrupting my adulterous dream meanderings with a too-early phone call. Le sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I think about it, the dream is actually sort of remniscent of an actual makeout session I had with Old Faithful a very, very long time ago, when we were still dating. We got stoned to the point of oblivion one night, came back to her dorm room, and spent at least an hour just sucking face with me straddling her in her desk chair. It kept rocking back and forth, and I hit my head on the beam of her loft bed at least four times. I remember finding that very funny. That was probably the hottest scenario we ever experienced together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just love to be on top. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-7133679835938316296?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/7133679835938316296/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=7133679835938316296' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7133679835938316296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/7133679835938316296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/freudian-snip.html' title='Freudian Snip'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-2886192085355774614</id><published>2007-04-06T20:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:56:55.648-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Fuck Me Already.</title><content type='html'>Bruh came over yesterday. It was sort of a tri-purpose visit, as a) I have been sick, b) I am out of town, and c) she needed to fuck the hell out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was good, but not enough. I think I'll schedule a sleepover for next week. I need it. Baadddd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-2886192085355774614?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/2886192085355774614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=2886192085355774614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/2886192085355774614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/2886192085355774614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/bruh-came-over-yesterday.html' title='Just Fuck Me Already.'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-6669126942296192149</id><published>2007-04-04T13:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:56:32.657-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frustration</title><content type='html'>There are a million things that I love about Bruh. And by a million, I really mean a million. She has any number of absolutely endearing behaviors and mannerisms. She keeps me endlessly entertained and delighted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, our relationship is classic love-hate, probably the most extreme case I've ever seen. So as passionately as I love things about her, I passionately hate quite a few, as well. Today my main annoyance is her impossiblity to make plans with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday she absolutely insisted that she come spend the night with me tonight, Wednesday. As of yesterday, she doesn't think she'll be able to make it. I'm furious. I need to get laid. I saw her on Sunday after she returned from out of town and I was looking forward to some hot 'n heavy welcome back sex. However she didn't seem in the mood at all and nothing came of it. Good god woman. It's about time she gets me off. I faked it the last time because I was going to be late for work and needed to rush her. She's one of those whose ego is entirely crushed if you don't have an orgasm EVERY SINGLE TIME, so I occasionally fake one for her, even though I hate being dishonest like that. Sometimes she just needs a little encouragement. In the long run, if I don't fake it, she loses confidence and I really will never get off. Vicious cycle, really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if Bruh is really even capable of monogamy. That girl is going to drive me nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and by the way, I'm sick. Quite sick, actually.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-6669126942296192149?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/6669126942296192149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=6669126942296192149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6669126942296192149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/6669126942296192149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/frustration.html' title='Frustration'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8327470815777638714.post-4622956484110953680</id><published>2007-04-03T10:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-11T13:57:27.029-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction</title><content type='html'>Hello all! Welcome to my blog life. Here's a brief overview of what's going on with my life right now, which you'll hopefully be reading about in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Old Faithful&lt;/strong&gt;- The ex turned best friend who still claims to be in love with me. Not in contact with her at the moment due to the fact that extreme drama and warfare usually ensues upon us speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Bruh&lt;/strong&gt;- My current love interest. 100% stud. The sex is passionate and intense (though not always entirely satisfying) and is a reflection of our VERY love-hate relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guitar Hero&lt;/strong&gt;- The straight girl I would marry if I had a chance. I haven't fallen for a straight girl since I was 13. She's obsessed with older men- MUCH older men. Specifically, much older, married musicians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Clown Momma&lt;/strong&gt;- A girl I am seeing on the side. She has a three year old son which sort of scares me. I love kids but I'm a bit young to already be dating mothers. Also, she was a professional clown until she got pregnant. Hence the name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shakesqueer&lt;/strong&gt;- Another straight girl, one of my very best friends. We work together as servers at a fine dining bar downtown. She is also a self-proclaimed fag hag and is somehow always drawn to gay men, who she somehow always falls in love with. We've decided that she's a gay man in a straight woman's body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Private Johnson&lt;/strong&gt;- A man who is pursuing me with the might of the entire army he is enlisted in. I've told him that I don't think a guy will ever do it for me, but he seems determined to take me out and woo me. So far I've been resistant and the date has yet to happen. Also, he's being deployed to Iraq in about a month and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Professor Jones&lt;/strong&gt;- The only other man involved in my life in a semiromantic fashion. He was my psychology teacher in highschool and we had an affair which continued a few months after I graduated, until he got married. He still comes to visit, buy me things, etc. I'm very fond of him though not attracted to him. My sugar daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lovedrug&lt;/strong&gt;- My roommate for next year. She's been with a woman before but is currently identifying as mostly straight. She's a total nympho and a lot of fun. Don't know or love her as much as Shakesqueer or Guitar Hero yet, but I'm sure that we'll become fast friends over the course of the upcoming semesters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lotus&lt;/strong&gt;- A very adorable and probably gay Asian girl. She's a virgin and is dying to jump someone's bones, if only to verify what she suspects as her sexual identity. Lovedrug is trying her hardest to get me to break her in, but I don't want to fuck up a perfectly good friendship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there are a few of the main players on my stage at this point. Though as you'll see from the adventures I'll post, most of the time &lt;em&gt;I'm &lt;/em&gt;the main player. Happy reading :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;The Sapphic Southern Belle&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8327470815777638714-4622956484110953680?l=sapphicsouth.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/feeds/4622956484110953680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8327470815777638714&amp;postID=4622956484110953680' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4622956484110953680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8327470815777638714/posts/default/4622956484110953680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sapphicsouth.blogspot.com/2007/04/introduction.html' title='Introduction'/><author><name>sapphicsouth</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09512504422026613744</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='26' height='32' src='http://www.sewingcentral.com/images/lmm18a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
