Night of the Piranha

As I said in the previous post, the last of the major evening events for our Las Vegas week was a takeover of the entire VIP section of the Piranha Club.

The club surprised us by welcoming us with a huge poster. That was nice!

It was the full VIP experience, with three private rooms, lit in soft red light, bottle service and comfy couches. Those of us that wanted to dance went downstairs and gyrated to the pulses of “Club Music” which, I confess, sounds largely all the same to me. I danced a bit among the sweaty gay boys and some friends from the group, but for the most part enjoyed intimate conversation in the VIP room.

We stayed until the kicked us out at 4 am, and then a bunch of us went for breakfast.

It is somehow always the most unlikely moments that stand out and this breakfast tuned into the highlight of the trip for me. I got to know a few people who I hadn’t really had the chance to talk to where yelling wasn’t necessary. At 6 am, people tend to let their guard down some, and it was nice to see inside a bit. Then, two of the girls started wisecracking with the waitress and making jokes of pretty well everything. I sat there and laughed and laughed!

It was the best show in Vegas! And it was free.

The next day was our last, and it was kind of a winding down time. We had the afternoon by the pool again, and went to a club at night. In between, my girlfriend and I went for dinner to The Cathouse at the Luxor, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to get a few photos in the sumptuous décor. My next post will contain a gallery of those shots.

At the end of it all, we found ourselves in the suite with a bunch of our cherished friends – people we had met just a few days earlier who had become so special to us in such a short time! We exchanged heartfelt hugs and promises to keep in touch – we were all sorry to leave one another! We had spent a week free of the burden of the hiding and conflicts that go along with being t-girls, with others who understood and shared our experiences. And these girls were friendly and interesting and enthusiastic and supportive and caring and fun! We miss you already!

You’re Fabulous but I Can’t Help Forgetting You

The last of the major evening events for our Las Vegas week was a takeover of the entire VIP section of the Piranha Club. But first, there was the matter of dinner. And what better place for a group dinner for a collection of out-there t-girls than Liberace’s?

I knew where we were going, but not exactly when!

I had arranged with one of the girls who runs this thing for her to call me with the details when they were finalized. Despite what I know to be her best efforts and intentions, she forgot. It was therefore up to me to guess what had happened to them on Friday evening, and find my own way over to the restaurant, luckily before they had finished their meals.

I have to relate (sorry, babe!) that despite profuse apologies on her part, the following night I was left for two hours wondering where they had gone, before my phone finally rang with more apologies, literally moments before I was going to call it a night and go to bed. (Y’know, a girl could develop a complex about such things!) Truth be told, she did try to reach me earlier, but there was a snafu with the number. Anyhow, it’s impossible to be angry with her for long considering her genuine efforts, amazing concern for everyone, overwhelming amount of distractions and not least, her immense likeability.

I learned a lesson from those two nights, not to allow that sort of thing to throw me for a loop, to operate on the assumption it is not a personal slight, and to accept from people as much as they are willing and happy to give. I had a very nice time both nights, as it turned out.

Back to Friday night. I arrived at the restaurant wearing this really hot red leather pencil skirt, with 50 cents in my hand. After quickly interacting with the service staff and placing an order, I walked over to her, sitting at her table with an “Oops! I screwed up!” look on her face. She said, guiltily “I’m so sorry, Janie!” The waiter placed a plate of food in front of her. “Y’know, I’m not gonna eat my main course until you get your food.” She’s so sweet that I’m sure she really meant it!

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “It’ll be ruined.” I paused. “By the way, I got you a present.”

She looked at me a bit confused, probably wondering whether I had lost my mind. Also, she is not inclined to accept gifts from the girls, all of whom are appreciative of her efforts. She’s a rare breed whose happiness comes from the good she does for others.

I put the 50 cents on the table and said, “Here’s your present. Y’know that coupon you insisted on giving me yesterday, doll? This is the change from that coupon… I bought this fabulous skirt with the rest!” I twirled around. “Isn’t it great?”

“Now that’s a present I’ll accept,” she said, clearly relieved, and happy to have made me happy. “You look fabulous!”

I left her to her dinner, and found a seat. By the time my food came and I started eating, I looked around and she had left along with most of the other girls. I didn’t need her to spoil her own dinner, but coming over afterwards to hang out with me as I ate would have been a nice gesture. But, by then she was on to something else…

It’s nothing personal. She is what she is, and what she is is pretty special. Besides, there were so many distractions and other egos to soothe. I’m happy to know her! Her generosity, outgoing nature, positive attitude, energy and larger-than-life persona are something to behold! Love-ya, babe! You are great!

Now, if I can only find her, we’ll be off to the Piranha Club!

Fetish Night – Power Exchange

After a lovely day at the pool and a few hours in between, we arrived at the suite for the start of Fetish Night.

Ca…..thump!!!

The place was dead! We weren’t as late as usual, but there were about 20 people there and no noise, no buzz… dead!

I was a little surprised and disappointed, since I expected this night to be kinky and fun, and for some reason the energy had gone. But, maybe people were just readjusting from relaxation mode into kinky night-mode. The party gathered steam as the minutes passed and more people arrived, and we were just about ready to mosey off to Power Exchange.

But first, pictures had to be taken and outfits had to be discussed. Have a look at a few:

My sweetie and I got a bit of a primer of domination and submission etiquette and rules from some of the enthusiasts. Apparently, we both should not have come wearing collars, which apparently indicate that we are someone’s sub. This faux-pas was obviously forgiven, and we were so taken with our lovely collars that we dared not remove either one.

After a few episodes of playful flogging, verbal domination and so on, we were out the door. Most of the girls went in cabs or a limousine, but we took our car. The place was not easy to find, even with directions, but evidently we did better than the limo driver, who ought to have known better.

Power Exchange had quite a reputation in San Francisco, where it used to be. I couldn’t bring myself to go there after some of the stories I’d heard. In Las Vegas, they have a new life, though there have been some news stories questioning how they manage to circumvent the laws that would seem to prevent them from operating. But that’s another story.

The place is trans friendly to the point of letting us in for free. There are themed rooms on two – or was it three – levels, and a couple of balconies to get some air. They had a stripper pole to try out, and a 50s-themed bar room, lit entirely in red with a charming Irish gal behind the counter, who we learned had appeared in Trantasia as well as many Las Vegas clubs in her performing past.

One of the gals brought along a vacuum bag for sensory deprivation. A person climbs in, gets zipped up, with only a tube in their mouth poking through for air, and then the bag is suctioned out of all its air. Once the person is vacuum-sealed, people on the outside play with them. I confess to wondering what it might be like, but I never got the chance to get inside.

My one big coup for the night is the picture you see below on the right. My friend G wore a Madonna “Like-a-Virgin” Wedding Dress and it lit up beautifully in the black light. I had to get a shot, but pics aren’t supposed to be taken, so I really had to hide the camera as I took this shot. I only got one shot at it, but it came out beautifully! We both were so happy!

Other than that, and my go at the stripper pole, the entire experience was a bit lame. After a little while, most of the group ended up on one of the balconies sitting and talking, so we took the opportunity to get out of there and get some sleep.

Except that I was hungry, so we had to stop at the Hard Rock Café for some grub…

And then back to the room, to bed.

TropiCabana

We didn’t have too long to catch our breath from the previous night’s Lingerie Party before Fetish Night was upon us the very next night! Ho hum! The life of a t-girl in paradise!

The organizers of this fete knew what they were doing. The morning in between the two parties, they got us access for the entire day to 2 adjoining cabanas at the Tropicana’s well-loved pool!

Hanging out for hours with the gurls with nothing to do but talk and relax (and drink margaritas if you were so inclined) was the perfect way to recharge. Beyond that, it was a great way to get to know everyone much better. Everyone was so much more relaxed and easygoing. Some of the gurls even came down in boy mode. In a number of cases, I could only recognize them by their voice and manner!

In the 95 degree heat, most of the girls took up places in the shade of the cabana, but there were always those diehard tanners that were lying out in the blazing sun. It’s not for me, that’s for sure. The question of swimming was often decided according to whether you were wearing a wig or not. It’s too bad too, because those with wigs were probably more in need of the cooling refreshment of the water than those without who were able to jump in.

In the late afternoon, some girls filtered off for a nap while others went out shopping and eating. I figured I could sleep when I got home.

Pictures? Of course there were pictures! We just can’t help ourselves!

Lingerie Party Night

Starting with Wednesday, the mornings were lost due to the fact that bedtime became ever closer to dawn with each passing night.

We did some shopping, especially at the mall at the Planet Hollywood (formerly the Alladin). There’s a Bettie Page story there, with 1940s inspired fashions, and I had to try almost everything on! What fabulous styles. If I were made of money, I’d have bought out the whole store! I am developing a serious shop-a-holic problem… I did buy the beautiful pink dress, and now I’m on the lookout for pink shoes…

We finally made it to a buffet – the Spice Market Buffet – a relic of the Alladin, and it wasn’t cheap but they had tons of yummy food which covered us for both breakfast and lunch.

The evening’s event was a lingerie party with a potential outing later on (meaning mid-morning) to a bar. Well, it almost goes without saying that a Jacuzzi suite with mirrored ceiling, an open bar and a bunch of raunchy camera-loving t-girls would turn into a fun party… It certainly was! The idea of going out was dropped by unanimous consent around 2 a.m., and the party rocked on…

There was posing and flirting and both real and simulated naughtiness, there was drinking and kissing, and oh, yes, live online camming. I guess I can confess that I had my very first online t-girl-t-girl kiss that night! Thanks T!

While I’m confessing, I can also say that I had what I consider to be my first special t-girl kiss the previous day. I’m not sure whether to call it a “romantic” kiss (cuz that’s probably overstating things), so let’s say a “movie kiss.” Picture a scene where two pretty girls are talking seriously, and then there’s a short pause in the conversation when, completely out of the blue, one girl leans in and plants a sweet kiss on the other’s lips, and then turns on her heel and walks away leaving the other to wonder what just happened.

So, guys, are ya ready for some photographic evidence from the lingerie party? I thought so!

Kitty Herding

The second day of our Las Vegas trip started out with us getting some supplies for the first of the suite parties, to be held that night. Partial to margaritas, we bought tequila, limes and orange liqueur, as well as fixin’s for guacamole, chips and salsa.

As became the norm with every day of this trip, by the time we turned around, we didn’t know where the day had gone! Between getting dressed as a girl, eating, having a coffee, and the traffic and distances between everything in Las Vegas, the day just vanishes. We may not have gotten around to having lunch, but we did have our food and drink, so we went over to the party a bit early.

There, we found out about TST – Tranny Standard Time. As it happens, the group was supposed to gather at the suite and then go out around 8 for dinner, but it ended up being near midnight before we got to the restaurant. For me, it was a good thing, because it gave me some separation between lunch and dinner.

The suite was teeming with new faces and a few other faces I’d seen online. Everybody was so friendly and engaging, and even flirtatious. We all became old friends in an instant! Liquor was flowing, personalities were shining and it was just a good time!

When we finally made it to the restaurant, we got a private room with a large banquet table and had a fabulous dinner amid the continued buzz of the chatter of new friends.

There was some confusion and a few frayed nerves when it came to moving the group over to a club for dancing. This was my introduction to the concept of “Kitty Herding.” To explain, cows may be easy to herd because one follows the other; cats, not so much. T-girls are like cats or kitties, only worse. So, since the organizers didn’t want to be dictatorial, and made the mistake of hoping for uniform enthusiasm from a group that was much larger than previous groups, they were a bit disappointed and the group was a bit, shall we say, incoherent.

Wildside is a group that I conceive of as organic, and the organizers don’t so much control it as they are its heart and soul. As the group has grown exponentially, it can sometimes get a bit lanky and uncoordinated, especially in the beginning until it gets used to its own new size.

It didn’t take long to fix things up just right, and soon we were dancing happily into the wee hours.

Finding my WildSide

I have been back from Las Vegas for two weeks now, and somehow haven’t managed a report on the fabulous week I spent there.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I finally met up with these Wildside gals. The main reason I chose this group is that they seemed a lot more fun and raunchy than the others. As much as I desired to let my hair down and have a good time – rather than just a nice, proper and evolved time – I worried that I might be too tame for this crowd. How wild and crazy were they? How far would they go? How far would I go? There is only so much you can tell from online interaction, right?

We normally travel light, so the avalanche of suitcases that tumbled out of the car was quite a handful to manage, but ol’ Janie didn’t want to be missing anything. It didn’t help that I found several “just perfect” things in every single vintage store we went to, at throwaway prices! OMG, I just had to buy them.

I was already getting nervous about the evening, when we would finally meet the organizers of this event along with another friend. As I got dressed, my fingers were dry and cold and I had trouble with the clips and buttons and, well… everything. Conversation was a bit strained. Doing my makeup, I must have dropped everything I picked up at least once, sometimes twice. And, of course, my hair would just not behave. “I cannot be late!” I said to myself.

Since the show was at the Mirage, having dinner at the casino’s California Pizza Kitchen seemed the most convenient, and with my nerves, this was more important than food quality. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat much anyway. After parking the car, it occurred to me that I was really now going out for the first time as a girl in Las Vegas. Of course, I’d done it elsewhere, but every new place can be different. I walked alone in the parking garage to the elevators and down to the entrance. Going through the casino’s doors, I headed… straight for the ladies’ room.

You’d think that was a refuge, but instead it was just another challenge, especially with butterflies in my stomach and actually being cold from nerves. [I am so not comfortable meeting new people!] Anyhow, with the DivaLV caveats about using the women’s washroom ringing in my head, I just hoped no one would bother me as I went in to check my mischievous hair, and sure enough it was misbehaving. More fussing, more hairspray. “Geez,” I thought, “I hope it’ll hold in place now!”

“Dammit, I gotta eat something or I’m gonna faint!”

My GF was waiting at the restaurant with the show tickets in hand. Sitting and eating, and realizing that there was lots of time before the show, I relaxed a little bit. But I didn’t finish half my food. I wandered the casino nervously, looking for the theater, contemplating running into my new friends or how we would make our entrance with them already sitting there. Turns out, the seats in front of us were still vacant when we arrived so we took our places and waited for them to show up.

When they got there, it was like a meeting of old friends. Hugs were exchanged, smiles all around. They were familiar faces, brought to life, and it was clear that their online personas were honest and true. They were in person just as they had been online.

The show was great. Cirque de Soleil’s LOVE was a delirious explosion of color and texture and acrobatics and fabulous music. I could see our new friends in front of us enjoying the show like kids in a candy store.

After the show, we decamped to the Revolution Bar – Beatles themed. As we entered – and I’m dating myself here – I realized that the theme extended to décor only. I had the usual disappointment of hearing the same house, hip-hop, groove, trance, techno stuff (whatever it’s called) wherever I go, no matter the “theme.” We had a few drinks and talked and started in quickly on our obsession with taking pictures and being photographed.

It was a pretty tame evening at that. I’d have followed if they’d have gotten up to dance, but I couldn’t find the energy to lead. No matter, many others were arriving the next day and the party could really get underway!

Mile High Club

Well, I finally did it! I flew on a plane! I put on my pink mini-skirt and respectable heels and a t-shirt and went to the airport. I figured, if I was going to fly as a girl, I might as well look unmistakably as one, so I ditched my original plan to wear my jeans, sexy as they are, and went with the skirt.

Well, it was a complete non-event. I don’t know how many people can tell what I am just by looking at me, but the security people had my passport after all, and nevertheless, it was business as usual.

When we got off the plane, I rented a car and again nothing… not the slightest bit fazed by my driver’s license, not the slightest look of surprise or interest. I was looking carefully for any even slight sign.

Goll’ darn gone ‘n’ done it! (Shania Twain fans will know that line.) Yay!

Now, with my sexy convertible and my luggage in the trunk, we’re going straight to the mall to do some more shopping!

Babycakes and Hash

Last time I said I might consider coming back to stay for a while in San Diego, and breakfast at Hash House a Go-Go followed later by pink cupcakes and espresso at Babycakes has done nothing but reinforce my conviction.

Mama Mia! I have never seen a plate as big as the one upon which my breakfast was served! And the plate was full, with a tree growing out of it! Pictured, you see two eggs over easy, a sage-fried chicken breast on bacon-mashed potatoes with maple syrup reduction, served with a country biscuit, a thick slice of watermelon and tomato slices. Seeing as I am on a diet, I didn’t finish it

Over at Babycakes, I get to type all this stuff in with a free wireless connection, and keep my waist growing with a pink pomegranate cupcake and a triple cappuccino.

Oh, and I almost forgot to mention that we went to the Cinco de Mayo celebration in Old Town, had a very nice meal in a fancy Mexican restaurant and then enjoyed the music in the main square, where there was a live band, some dancing and mucho drinking.

I consider myself a margarita aficionado, but I hate to say that the best margarita we have had in San Diego was at Fred’s – a decidedly inauthentic Mexican restaurant. We asked them to make us a special margarita with some excellent tequila on their menu, but it was one of the worst margaritas I have ever had. Then I ordered one of their standard ones and it blew me away! A girl can be too smart for her own good sometimes.

There is a Zydeco Festival happening in town this weekend, and I’d like to get to that so we’ll see how that goes. See ya!

The Beach Towns

Duuuuuuude!!!!

I went out to the beach town of Ocean Beach to see the beach and eat at Hodad’s.

It is incredibly cold for a 75 degree day on these coastal towns, and a fair-skinned lass like myself can find herself burned to a crispy red without ever feeling much heat! So, I took the precaution of slabbering sunscreen everywhere. I have noticed the dry, aged weathered skin of so many Southern Californians that is due to the unending supply of irresistibly beautiful sunny days and that has scared me into using sunscreen – which I rarely do.

Ocean Beach is a nice sun-kissed beach town and comes with an extensive collection of California stereotypes. Being from Canada, I thought these were exaggerations, but the granola types, the surfer dudes, the old guy in the bicycle-racing suit, the peaceniks, the gray-haired surfer in a wetsuit, the beautiful men wandering the sidewalks and beach, the group of teen girls piled into a VW Beetle, the blonde lady whose hair looked like clumped nautical rope – they’re all here!

Hodad’s was everything it was made out to be on the Food Network’s “Diners, Drive-ins and Dives.” Fabulous burgers, friendly attitude, neat ambience. And a chocolate malt that was so thick you had to use a spoon. Heartily recommended.

After OB, we also went to PB and La Jolla. (Californians are so laid back that they cannot muster the effort to say whole words, it seems. So Pacific Beach becomes PB, and avocado becomes AVO.) There were nice cafes, each town had its own personality and the vintage clothes shopping was bountiful. I got myself a hot leather skirt for 20 bucks, and a couple of beautiful sundresses for half that much and a clubbing dress for even less.

We had lunch at the Green Flash at Pacific Beach yesterday, where we were served by a cute waitress whom I can only describe as eerily evocative of Jodie Foster. The salads were yummy and we got to eat outside in the mildly warm Caifornia beach air. What could be better?

La Jolla reminded me a bit of Monte Carlo, especially since they promote themselves that way, but it’s not really anything like the real thing. I did witness an incredibly self-important rich blonde woman and her superior attitude with a hotel doorman and valet. But I don’t think that counts.

I think I liked Pacific Beach the best, because it seemed to me like the most down-to-earth town with easy access to the beach. I didn’t spend long enough anywhere to know for sure, but that was my gut feeling.

But the most important thing to me personally about all these places and all the people I have encountered in the San Diego area is that they don’t have a problem with Janie. I have never been anywhere where I have felt as much at ease walking around just being my girly self. And that includes San Francisco. I may very well start thinking about hanging out here a lot more in the future.

First Taste of San Diego

Ooohh, so many possibilities here in San Diego. I’ve just arrived for my very first visit here and it’s Cinco de Mayo!

I’m at Starbucks reading a few tourist magazines, plotting my next move.

Obviously there are parties to go to, but do I go shopping in the malls, sunning on the beaches, play tourist at Legoland, or visit the many 1950s nostalgic diners around town?

I’m going to start with Carlsbad. I’m off to the train station…

San Francisco Pit Stop

Hey, all!

I am starting my long journey that will take me to Las Vegas, and my first quick stop is San Francisco. I have a few hours between flights, so I zipped into the city for a few hours rather than cool my jets at the airport.

I picked the Mission District cuz I do love Mexican food and there’s lots of good, cheap and reasonably quick, but freshly prepared food to be had in this area of town.

Also, within a stone’s throw is Philz Coffee, a place that not only has wifi, not only has a comfy and inviting area in which to hang or work, but also has Tantalizing Turkish Coffee! Their Turkish coffee is my weakness – a very dark roast infused with cardamom. Mmmmmnnnhh… Yummy!

They make coffee here differently from anywhere else I’ve been. Each cup of drip coffee is made to order and presweetened and pre-creamed (with their own particular kind of cream or milk) by friendly and helpful staff. These methods and ingredients, coupled with the warm reception and ambience makes for a very nice break indeed and a cup of joe that you cannot reproduce at home.

That’s it for now! Direct from Philz in the Mission District in rainy cold and wet San Francisco, this is Janie, signing off…