Hello. My name is Sortia Snoodle. In the mornings I hang out on Reggae Beach in my pink fluffy slippers, sipping latte and jivin' to the groove. In the evenings, I dress up in my best formal gowns and jewelry and trip to the light fantastic at a variety of dance halls where I know some handsome gentleman will ask me to dance. Is this a useless existence? I think not. It is highly amusing and lord knows I need amusement. I'm tall, dark and lovely with a round curvaceous figure the men adore. It's easy to get picked up for a dance. What's difficult is finding a regular beau to take me dancing every night without the pressing need to actually be in a relationship. Oh, sure. All men love the cuddling and the kissing and the romance. Yes, they do. Men are
romantics, too. What they expect to happen after that is the issue. Most men expect me to traipse along with them to some private room or other place and help them, er, get off. Okay. The nicer ones will wrap it in romance and gentleness and wait patiently for me to acquiesce naturally. Ain't gonna happen. I'm not interested in all that. Yet. It's the dance and vaporous promises that I like. The happy state of bliss that comes with finding some one who wants to travel along the same road. That initial state of airy union. That's what I'm after. And thank goodness the goddess has let me do that. I get to run around and enjoy myself without having to work for anything. Except maybe my release from overly zealous men ... and a couple of women. Although, I'm not sure those women were actually women. You don't know unless they tell you. 
There has been one special man, Emanon Firecaster. He and I have danced away an entire week. He gave me a beautiful sparkling ring which I never take off. We meet and dance together for hours, kissing and cuddling and whispering sweet nothings to each other. It's divine. I have a terrible feeling, though, that Emanon is waiting for the acquiescence. I'm not really ready yet. I doubt I ever will be. But he is a sweet man and who knows? Maybe something will happen for us. I haven't seen him for four days now, so, as things go around here, our time could very well be over.
Well, gotta run. Time for Reggae Beach!
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