So today I'll talk about les femmes. Since yesterday I talked about bon hommes.

Here's some shocking news, to which I say, Um, duh.

When I saw this, I fell off my sweet seat twice because somehow during the first glance I missed the part where it was girl-on-hawt-girl kissing. Living the dream, my friends.

I have been revising my List of Five (meaning the list of five celebs that you get a free pass from your mate for if you ever bump into them on the street). I actually have a list of five men and five women. These lists evolve with my tastes. I don't have an official mate just now, but I still like to keep my lists sharp.

List of Five (femme):







The longest running member of this list is, of course, Kate. Alicia Keyes is the newest member, after I saw her in Smokin' Aces. Eliza Dushku narrowly misses making this list, especially after I just revisited Season 7 of Buffy. She's smokin' hot. Seriously. I have to put her on as Honorable Mention. Two more Honorable Mentions: Christina Hendricks (but only as Joan Holloway) and Morena Baccarin (but only as Inara Serra).

All of this must make me sound like I should change teams. I do love women. The texture of their hair and skin, the look of their lips glistening with color and gloss, the sound of them laughing or singing or feeling uncertain, and the smell of their soaps and lotions.

Still I don't know how to explain it, but I can give last night for an example: I was laying in my bed and thinking about what I really really wanted just before I slipped into sleep, and I thought about that six foot oneish frame tuckled up around me, with his big, strong hands gently cupping my sore breasts, his forehead nuzzling into my neck, lips kissing my shoulders, and the smell of his hair on my pillows. That's what I want when I go to sleep at night.