Another Sunday night, another episode of L word.

This week started off on a good note when my new friend M (I told her this week she’s my L-word bitch) walked in the room and, as threatened, I jumped up on the couch and yelled out…

“You messed with the wrong bitch, bitch”

‘Cause like I told you, I’m crazy cool like that. And I’m sure that everyone else at the bar agrees completely….me, totally cool. Obviously, yes.

After that kind of kick-off, only good things can happen, right?

Okay, I’m not going to recap in chronological order, because I’m a little spacey and fragmented today (just today mind you, I am normally a highly concentrated individual with a sharply focused mind).

Most important development: Bette and Tina.
Oh.My.God. Bette and Tina. Tina and Bette. Bette getting topped by a newly aggressive Tina. Oh.My.Hot.

I’ve never been a huge Tibette fan, but you’ve got to admit those two have chemistry. After five seasons, I think we’re all just rooting for them to make it. Their sex scenes have always been undeniably fabulous (the scene where they were baby-making, and the crazy wild sex after Tina found out about Candace for instance…need I say more?)

But this week….Um Yeah. Just watch, is all I ask. Even you straight girls out there. Just watch.

[…as an aside, watching the L word when you’re ovulating but don’t have anyone to have sex with is dangerous. At one point during one of the above scenes my cell phone vibrated in my pocket, and I seriously thought I was going to have to leave the bar and find a way to relieve some tension. Ask J…I’m a quivering ball of sexual energy right now. Seriously…]

Okay, on to Jenny.
Confession Number One: I might lose some credibility by admitting this, but I think that the more outrageous Jenny gets, the more she grows on me - in a hate-to-love-her/love-to-hate-her kind of way. She’s utterly ridiculous and utterly delicious all at once. She annoys me and amuses the hell out of me at the same time – and I rather like that in a girl. (but seriously, those nails have to go. What lesbian has nails like that?).

There were many brilliant Jenny moments this episode, but the opening scene takes the cake. Jenny is directing the actresses playing Bev and Nina in Lez Girls in the scene from season one where Nina tells Bev (or Tina tells Bette) that she is ovulating. The two actresses playing Bev and Nina are clearly straight girls, and totally awkward and uncomfortable. Jenny, with that perfect look of calculated arrogance and studied ennui, is attempting to explain how the sex scene should go…*

Jenny: “This is what I want you to do — you are going to look at her — and you’re going to TAKE HER — and you’re going to THROW HER UP AGAINST THE SINK — BAM! And you’re going to look at her with passion and then you’re gonna and you’re going to take her, and you’re going to kiss her — with tongue. And then I want you to reach down and then I want you to finger fuck her and give her the best fucking orgasm EVER…”
Bev: “Oh — you mean — with my hand?”
Jenny: “Yeah … unless you have some other apperatti that i don’t know about?” …

I’m crazy impressed that they managed to work the word apperatti in there – because seriously, every sex scene needs some apperatti, right? It gets even better when Jenny tells them she’s going to hire a lesbian sex coach so they can learn to get it right. A lesbian sex coach. I love it, I love it, I love it.

Jenny: “You guys really don’t know how to fuck women, do you? You guys are going to learn how to fuck…”

She Bar Bitches
Confession Number Two: I am rather ashamed to admit this, but I kinda think that Dumbo is hot. Sure she’s a bitch, and her put-on ghetto-fied speech and mannerisms are aggravating as hell. But just to look at. Um yeah. Hot.

Lover Cindy though, I could do without. The loyal sidekick with her perfectly coiffed blonde waves and utterly vapid stare…ugh. Annoying. Automatic Straddle got it totally right when she called her Disco Barbie. Shane, however, gets props for trying to make amends, very adult of her. Shane’s hair though, needs some assistance.

Oh – who am I kidding. I’m as hot for Shane as anyone. Who cares if she has stupid hair, really. I can get past it.

Best quote of the scene:
Dembo: “What can’t you do Shane…other than make my girlfriend come?”

Seriously? Lover Cindy was unsatisfied by her encounter with (um…cheesy seduction of) Shane? Highly doubtful.

The scene was made for me, however, by the Peach Pit reference. For a girl who went to high school in the early 90’s, 90210 references can only make a good show even better. Come on, didn’t you ever hope Brenda and Kelly would get it on in the Peach Pit bathroom?

Oh, and how many times can Dumbo say “It’s On”. Really?

Alice and Tasha.
Deep sigh, sniff, sniff.

As my new girl M. said (with a slight hint of panic) during the scene:
“Where are you going Tasha? Where is she going? Is she going?”

I refuse to believe that this is it for Alice and Tasha, because anyone can see that they are perfect for one another. And Tasha has to stay on the show, because otherwise who would I swoon over? Because her cheekbones and her eyes and her smooth creamy skin and her smile and her beautiful flat stomach and those strong arms and…

Oh wait a minute –where was I?

Oh yeah.

Don’t go Tasha. Please don’t go. Didn’t you see Alice crying in bed? She is broken-hearted without you, and I know that beneath your tough exterior you are broken-hearted without her. You two are meant to be together, and besides, I have a serious need to watch you have sex again. So come back Tasha. I’m begging now. Don’t let me down.

Clothing:
All I have to say is Jenny and Tina – get some new clothes. Now, please. Those boots, Jenny? That bow, Tina? All those puffy shirts and strange dresses. Really? Yikes. Life is too short to dress that badly.

Alice gets a little more leeway to wear somewhat odd outfits, ‘cause she’s Alice, and she’s so dang cute I could never judge her for anything. But Jenny and Tina, you’re not anywhere near that adorable, and I have to hold you to higher standards.

Look at Bette, the girl has got it going on. She rocks her power lesbian wardrobe, and the lady can work a white tank top like nobody’s business. Shane has a look that works for her too (that black see-through shirt. Whew. It got to me. See ovulation comment above), but you two are struggling. Once Adele (see below) starts dressing better than you, you know you’re in trouble. Just try a little harder, is that too much to ask?

Adele:
I love to say I told you so, so I’ll say I told you so. That girl is trouble. Now that’s she’s gotten her Jennified ‘What Not To Wear’ makeover and has gone all Single White Female on us the storyline is beginning to take shape. I’m starting to get an idea where this is going, and I don’t like it one little bit. At least Max seems just as wise her tricks as I am – and I’m feeling fairly confident that he’s going to take care of business. You go Max, watch out for my girl Jenny - she’s a little clueless on her own, no?

Final Miscellaneous Comments:
I loved Phyllis’ comment that she didn’t want her daughter to think she was a ‘debauched promiscuous lesbian’. I get where she’s coming from, I mean I don’t want my daughter to think that either. But honestly, is there anything wrong with being a debauched promiscuous lesbian? I want to know; because there is a slight chance I might consider becoming one, at least if this ovulation business goes on much longer.

My other favorite line was the bit about the faux-protesters (lead by Dumbo herself) saying that they didn’t want their neighborhood “portrayed as a hotbed of lesbian sex and salaciousness”. Dumbo’s personal vendetta aside, all I can think is, damn – I wish my neighborhood was a hotbed of lesbian sex and salaciousness. Right?

And next week – lesbian Turkish oil wrestling…

Hells yea.

It’s On!

*Credit for the scene goes to Automatic Straddle. The best (and funniest) L word recaps on the web.

I found myself in the rather surreal situation this week of taking dating advice from my husband. S. and I were talking a bit about ‘the girl’ and about my call/don’t call/when-to-call/ask/don’t ask/when-to-ask quandary. You wanna know what he said?

Come on, admit it, I know you do.

He listened patiently to my back and forth detailing of my inner conflict, my wanna-call-and-ask-her-out-but-don’t-wanna-seem-too-eager-and-besides–I’m-shy-and-scared-of-rejection ramblings, and looked at me with amusement in his eyes and said…

“Come on Jen, don’t you know that you can’t just sit back and be the girl anymore”.

Ooooh…he was so right. That man knows me far too well.

In previous relationships I have always let others take the initiative, always waited to be chased instead of going after what I want. This is partly an ego thing – I get a real high from being pursued – and partly a confidence thing, as I’m not such a fan of being turned down.

In the traditional dynamic of male-female relationships, this can actually work fairly well. But S. is right - we’re not talking traditional dynamic anymore, and there are no males in sight.

[…well except for this lovely gay boy that I have a huge crush on, but I digress, that’s another story for another day…]

I’m not a college kid anymore, struggling with identity and self-confidence and (obvious now) issues of conflicted sexuality. I’m a confident 32 year old woman who is getting closer and closer to owning herself with every passing day. I don’t need to play games, to waste time wondering, or to sit back and wait for life to happen to me.

And so I called her.

[…and of course I got voice mail and asked her out via message, have since only corresponded through myspace, and am thinking she’s not all that interested, but that’s not really the point of this story…]

I called her. And I asked her out. And maybe it won’t ever happen – but I wanted to do it, and I did it and it felt GOOD.

And once again, something seemingly small creates an inner shift that makes everything look different. Knowing I have the ability to go after what I want (be it a coffee date with a cute girl, an unexpected kiss in a crowded bar, a new friendship or an entire future) and don’t have to wait and wonder and agonize about if/when/how it might happen makes me feel incredibly confident. And, dear readers, we all know that confidence is hot. Confidence begets hotness which begets further confidence; therefore I’m feeling pretty damn good.

Last night found me once again at ye olde lesbian country bar. This time, there was another cute girl with spiky bleached blonde hair and a gorgeous tattoo on her upper arm. She caught my eye right away, and I think I caught hers. We ended up talking and laughing and I asked her to dance. Trouble is, she’s a follow and so am I…and without a lead, there ain’t no two-steppin’ goin’ on. I really wanted to dance with this girl, and later on we did manage to stumble through a few songs with her leading, but I decided then and there that I need to learn to lead.

If you exclusively follow, you can only ever dance with a lead – which leaves out half the girls in the room. If you learn to lead AND follow – you just opened yourself up to a whole lot of potential dance partners. You can be what you need to be in the moment, depending on who you want to dance with and what role you both feel comfortable taking. And folks, from where I’m sitting, more dancing is never a bad thing.

[…yes, I realize that this little dancing analogy has much wider implications for life in general, that is exactly the point…]

And so in the next few weeks I’m going to go to the two-step lessons again, except that this time I’m going learn to lead. I’m going to learn how to dance a girl around the floor, to communicate without talking- just a gentle push/pull with arms and hands - where I want her to go, and how I want her to move. I’m going to learn to turn in place and change directions without missing a beat. I’m going to learn to spin her out, and bring her back in to me again. I’m going to take the lead.

And yes, of course I got her number.