Lesbian Social Diary

Merry Litmas!

People rather sheepishly sat around in a big circle waiting for a dominatrix to start a game of spin-the-bottle…

A little party never hurt nobody.

I am grateful for the safety of this space, for the community it contains, for those late night conversations with strangers that make you feel aware, awake and part of something.

Three queer women, one Honda SUV and perhaps the longest bar crawl ever. 

Do you know what I longed for during the pandemic with the feverish intensity usually reserved for an irresistibly sexy ex you know you’ll never get the chance to have sex with ever again?

Lesbian Nightlife. 

Dyke Nightlife. 

Queer Nightlife. 

“When I sat down by myself in my apartment and thought about what I just said yes to, I got really emotional, because when I was younger, television, magazines, or any sort of media is where you get a preview of what could be. I never saw someone who looked exactly like me in an intimate scene.”

Dave’s Lesbian Bar could be coming to Astoria, with your help.

The thought of driving through the South on purpose, as a butch dyke, was a vision of my gay hell.  But for the first stop of our tiny Pride tour, Country Roads, Take Me Homo, a small town is exactly where we ended up.

HAPPY PRIDE!

You arrive in a new city, filled with new faces, tastes, sounds, and eventually, if you play your cards right, you’ll end up in a room of queers, sweaty and synchronized, the same baseline surging through your spines.

As the world opens up, it’s time to turn all of your t-shirts into crop tops. 

There’s a unanimous sense of gratitude for She Soho, for this gathering of queer womxn, for the simplicity of this night, for the survival of our community spaces – places we may once have taken for granted, but never will again. 

The suburban confessions of a native New Yorker.

We need these spaces.

Self help meets memoir. Party girl meets wise sage. Beauty meets reality. Zara Barrie is the cool older sister you wish you had.

Channel your inner U-haul lesbian! For this romance is likely fleeting.

FROM THE ARCHIVES: Maybe the best friends are the ones you’re in love with, just a little bit.

“Private Parts must be covered at all times.”

How to get over the girl you’ve been on one date with, but can’t get out of your head.

You’ll never be bored in Dyke City.

Kissing in the blue dark, drunk and I am seeing stars…

Nothing is more powerful than a party girl’s bright light. Nothing. 

I flew away from that island, a beaming smile on my face, Sapphic magic surging through my spine. 

According to the dyke nightlife diary: “Some of the best tops in London are in this building.”

At Jacob Riis beach, I feel less alone.

Dyke in the Pit is lit.

Even if no one’s your type, the interior is beautiful!

NYC dykes are the hottest in the world.

Several dapper dykes were sprinkled across the top decks, chatting and sipping their drinks. I was home. 

The parade after-party of your queer dreams.

Did something go wrong in the lab? Am I the only lesbian who doesn’t care about sports?

The misfit’s guide to “fitting in.”

The lesbian misogynist.

“I wanted to disappear into the smog-ridden air.”

You WILL fall off the boardwalk at least once.