A: Only one!

Out of the four of us, the person we’d expect to want to participate, did. Of course I’d never! Nope, not Vanilla–I mean Vanessa!

The first thing we did in that club was enter a seminar about safety and consent. I had previously read that this community was very focused on comfort and limits despite its reputation for masochism and sadism. The seminar emphasized the various ways that nonconsent could be implied and encouraged the use of safety words or actions.

The show was going to start soon so we grabbed a table at the very front, conviniently located next to the snack table, and we waited for the performances.

The show was organized and run by volunteer performers who hand-made their costumes and choreographed their own routines on their own time with their own resources.

My favorite performance of the night was a dance tribute to Ghostbusters. The group was dressed in brown jumpsuits and had “proton packs” (those ghost-hunting vacuums) made out of Tupperware, tape, and cardboard. It was fantastic.

After the show, there were several hours left to mingle. We spoke to several cast members and it felt like a fun and mellow atmosphere. It was pleasantly jarring to be able to have a drink and a smoke with someone who was nearly naked on stage 15 minutes ago.


¿The Point?

Procrastination and laziness cut the last post short, but I assure you there was a point. The point was: Going to this strange and new form of entertainment was unexpectedly enjoyable and I think it would be visually appealing and fun to read about.

There were several great characters at Pangea–performers and audience members. Everyone was decked out in wild and elaborate outfits and it was very hard to distinguish between the performers and the audience especially because the club was bey encouraging of audience participation. Really, I was the only one who, ironically in my grey blandness, stuck out in a sea of feather boas, leather, and bedazzled outfits.

After the bouncer stared at my ID for too long, held it up to the light, and scratched at it, I was allowed in.

Inside the building a receptionist charged us a cover and explained to us the rules of the establishment. She then explained to us the sticker rule. To distinguish who was comfortable enough to consider “playing” with others, patrons wore cute shiny stickers. This didn’t mean that anyone wearing a sticker was forced to “play”, but they could be approached and talked to about the possibility.

So, in our group of four, how many were brave enough to wear a sticker?



That one time I went to a sex dungeon

It was a regular Saturday night. I was at work until 8 p.m., and because I know that I only work weekend nights, I didn’t bother to make plans that night (really I don’t make plans because I don’t have friends.)

So when I got a call from my friend inviting me to a sex dungeon later that night, I didn’t hesitate. Yes! I need to unwind! I need a break from this weekly weekend monotony! But…a sex dungeon? That’s far from my scene, still I love me a great and new experience. You should try everything at least once–and this summer I was determined to explore and experience every aspect and dark corner of Los Angeles that I could.

I got out of work and headed straight to the Goodwill down the street because goodness knows I was not going in my navy blue, baggy, Skechers shirt nor my clunky Skechers shoes.

After I met up with the group, we drove to a club right across the street from LAX. The planes were flying so close up in the sky they looked like toys. The club was tucked away on a dark street. It was so dark and lonely, we  wondered if we were at the right place.

TBC, I guess, to feed my procrastination.







Almost done

We are almost done with the magazine! Deadline was pushed three times? I’d say that’s pretty good. My favorite part of the magazine is the pull quotes that Richie designed. I’m glad it’s almost over. I wish I gave all this more effort. I really liked the team. It could have been more awesome. regret….