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omg pwnies!!1!

Ok, now that I've distracted you with hot girl... (and doesn't she need to come with sushi..?)

A couple weeks ago I had a nightmare in which Sh introduced me to his new girlfriend, and she told me how they were going to get married and how in love they were- and when I escaped outside to gather my thoughts, he came after me and ended up falling off a building to his death.

Sometimes it doesn't take a genius to figure out your psyche.
But I'm in a place where I feel really... stable. Secure, for the first time in a long while. I know my friends will be here when I get back. And especially, I know my dear ponygrrl La, and her lovely boyfriend (and my friend) Gout will be there when I get back too. In a way, as much as it hurt, I'm kind of glad Mono and I split up, as it makes it a little easier to let go of California and what was looking like a dead end lifestyle there. A fun lifestyle, mind, but not one that was driving my passion anymore. And a life without passion isn't the life for me...
I'm really pleased that La and Gout are coming to see me off to the airport tomorrow. I'm spending the night alone, which is good as it minimizes the chances of me being a basketcase and scaring them off. This is the first time I've played with a couple and I've felt equally comfortable with them both, so it's very exciting and heady stuff for me- and what makes it especially nice is their support around my work, and my girlfriend in California. Is it true? Did I give up on finding a nonmonogamous relationship only to fall into one..? Well, stay tuned, and I'll let you know, I suppose!
I had an amazing session a couple weeks ago with a couple who really re-energized me when it comes to sex work. He was a man who needed strict discipline from the women around him... and he got it from us, in spades! She was a really sexy lady who didn't see how amazing she was, and seducing her and really imparting my admiration for her, as a sexual being and as a woman, made both of us feel giddy for a while afterwards. I'm hoping to get to see them again- they were a lot of fun!
Meanwhile some exciting things have been going on in the rest of my life- mainly that a lovely lady is doing a photodocumentary on my day to day life, which is really nifty and exciting and fun- she's letting me have some say in what we do together so I really feel like she's telling the story as I see it, and not with an agenda. Always a plus. Another thing is that I'll be presenting a lecture on "En:Forced Femme: the Peep Show Experience of Blogging as a Sex Worker". As I have information about it I'll keep people posted... I'm very excited and honoured to be asked, as well as being terrified! Never mind the essay I'm working on for a book about Bitchy Jones's Diary, which will similarly be about the experience of forced femininity both as client request and professional service on my part as it pertains to my appearance. Educated, that's me! ::grin::
Additionally there have been a few more documentaries in the works, and articles being worked on about polyamory, about sex work while in school, and other things... all pretty positive to be a part of. Gotta break down some of those misconceptions somehow, right?
While it's a pain to leave London while I'm just starting to get back into working, it gives me some time to fix up my website- I hope to have a brand new one, and new business cards, in the Spring. It's time for a fresh beginning, a more professional approach, advertising and good photos- I'm ready to take London by storm. Is London ready for me..?
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"sometimes I feel like a whore"

I woke up today and my facebook tarot card was Death.

I know, I know, Death, not the scary card, not really (and thank god it wasn't the Tower, right?) but just a symbol of change, of things rebirthing, newness, new directions, the death of that which is now gone and the birth of something new.

(Actually, typing that out, I mistyped "birth" to make that sentence "the bitch of something new"- which is also often true. Just saying.)

Still, it was a bit of a kick in an already anxious, queasy stomach. The last thing I need now is more change, more adaptation to do. Sometimes I wonder if my attempts to accept and embrace change in my life has just marked me to the Gods as a sucker. And of course it can't come in halves, nope. I often end up in a situation where I'm struggling to catch my breath in between batterings of the change variety.

Apparently my blogs about the mono/nonmono debate and the GFE was too much for Mo, along with the time and distance making it difficult to stay in touch. He said he was with me out of insecurity, that being insecure kept him coming back for more- which is pretty much one of the cruelest things he could've said. In a way, I'm upset, hurt, sad, offended- in another it's almost a relief. It makes my decision to move to the UK much easier- as each thread is severed, it leaves me free to go my own way.

I'm shocked, to be honest, as how insulting he chose to be in the end, as he has a reputation as a nice guy, almost to a fault. I suppose I should be proud of him for being a dick, which is close to having balls, though not quite the same. ::sigh::

Add to that being confronted with Sh (who is a close friend that I still love dearly, annoyingly) and Sh's girlfriend (who I haven't met) last night while working on placement for an art project. I wanted to meet her- she seems very cool, into similar things, pretty, also from the balmy shores of California. I had wanted to meet her one on one, so we could get to know each other as individuals, without Sh there... instead of the ex meets current awkwardness that would otherwise ensue. But since she wasn't comfortable with that, I agreed to go to a party for her, as long as I could bring someone to make it a little easier anxiety-wise. I was cool with that. That interaction was going to happen tomorrow, and I'd have sat with it, done what I needed to feel ok, and chilled myself out.

Instead, I had to deal with it unexpectedly last night, on my own, nothing in place. And it was ok for about a half an hour, where I was friendly (I think) and tried to help with her project, chat with Sh a bit (who, I think, has no empathy about how uncomfortable this made me)... until I suddenly felt my anxiety grab my throat and stomach. Feeling hot, and like I was going to vomit, cry, or both at once, I hastily made my goodbyes and fled, feeling crazy and angry with myself for not being about to keep it together. And I feel like I kind of have to make an appearance tomorrow in order to be politic (and thank GOD La will be there to pay attention to me and pet my hair and prevent a panic attack) but I feel as I knew I would- that Sh's girlfriend doesn't really want to or care about making friends with me, that we're both doing this for Sh, and that Sh doesn't get how SHE'LL get comfort and security from him as aftercare, and I'll be tossed to fend for myself emotionally when I'm already rather fragile. Yay.

And then, today. Today was the declaration of intent for marriage, which scared me (as government anything tends to, to be honest, though I act otherwise). That bit went smoothly (E was amazingly supportive and comforting, which I'm truly grateful for), though the lady processing it wasn't really sure of her computer system... but the train. OMFG the train. First I missed the right train coming out, and managed to get lucky and take another right after- but on the way back, I was in Colchester, boarded the train, got all set up, when it was delayed, then cancelled. No signal. Not in one place, either, no, all the way from Colchester to London. No trains, no idea when there would be others, or what replacement bus service there'd be.

I just about crumpled on the platform to cry. I was so ready to give up. Even now there's tension so tight in my chest I feel difficulty inhaling and exhaling.

Thank god, seriously, for my friends. La has basically been helping me keep a grip on some semblence of sanity. Syph kindly made me a Spotify music list to cheer me up. T&A and H (who I'll have to make proper names for eventually) have been there for me to snuggle me and keep me busy (and often drunk- again, thank god).

When I have this much shit going on it's really hard to work. I'm anxious about money when I'm not working, but I'm getting so clenched up that I think I would offer a shitty session. As a Domme, I'd just spaz out and then cry for the rest of the time... or I'd go too hard, or something. As an escort I think I'd just disassociate, unable to handle all the shit in my personal life and caring about someone else.

And I'm going to say now, cause this pisses me off- NO, it's not about the fucking work. If anything, sometimes the work saves me, because it puts me back in the moment. If I had any other job I'd be on autopilot, and frankly, most bosses prefer you that way. I'm sick of feeling like I can't complain about my work or my personal life in the arena of my work without some agenda-riddled bitch of a "feminist" telling me how it's because I'm so terribly exploited by sex work. I hate feeling like I can't say my day at work sucked because I'll be letting down the sex worker side politically.

You wanna talk about exploited? How about the fact you have to get married to have any real rights if you and your partner are from two different countries? That's incredibly exploitative. How about not having access to free texting for my phone, or a proper bank account, because I don't live here legally yet, so I'm dependent on my savings and pay-as-you-go? Or how about the fact that unless you're a legal tenant, your landlord doesn't have to give your deposit back, or even justify to anyone why?

Still.

For all that anger, there's still a girl in me who is sad to have been dumped, to have been replaced, to have to face that replacement and smile pretty while her heart is acid burned.

I may be a hooker, or a dominatrix, or whatever, but ultimately, I'm still a girl.

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"The Girlfriend Experience" with Sasha Gray- spoilers

So I've written about girlfriend experiences before, because it's a dynamic I find really interesting- men wanting space to be vulnerable, and talk about what they're going through, to a woman who will pet their head and tell them it'll be ok.. even if they pay her. And there's that question of, can you maintain that intimacy while still maintaining the professional boundaries?

And what do you do when you no longer want to maintain those boundaries... when you want to take it personal? And how do you deal with the fallout?

On Monday I saw the film "The Girlfriend Experience", a movie set in New York and focused on the experiences of an escort trying to maintain a relationship with her personal trainer boyfriend while doing her work with high class clients. There's a running theme about money and comfort, as many of her clients have been affected by the recession and on some level use her to feel better... and also about body as commodity, with both the escort, Chelsea, and her trainer boyfriend, Chris, selling their bodies and a sense of well-being to their clients, albeit in different ways. There's also something to be said for there being a theme of isolation, of trying to connect with someone, anyone, even for a moment- and that crushing feeling when you make that effort and they don't reach out for you in return.

Sasha Gray's acting was pretty flat, but I think they aimed for that- that sense of her being shielded, all the time, with everyone. The attempts of the clients to break through that, too, was familiar, though not directly- I am pretty genuine all the time, clients or not.  A quote from the film:

"What do men want for a Girlfriend Experience? 'They want what they want you to be', Chelsea says. 'If they wanted you to be yourself, they wouldn't be paying you.'

Personally, I haven't found that to be true. I suspect Sh liked that I was clumsy and silly and real, not just a caricature of female dominance, but someone who really loves this stuff and trips on her own heels and is a real person. That said, it's equally hard to be emotionally open- because you can't be entirely honest, but if you're not somewhat open, they won't open up to you either. So while I don't think I could do Chelsea's blankness, being that canvas for the client to paint and create (in, ultimately, their own image), it's fucking hard to be yourself too. Sometimes I just want to do my work, I don't want to be the evangelist for polyamory or kink or queerness. But at the same time, because of that openness and the questions I get in return, I feel a responsibility to educate that's hard to turn off.

More interesting than the film, for me, was the reaction of the audience. There were moments I laughed that they didn't, and moments they laughed that I found sadly touching, like the moment at the end when Chelsea hugs this older, chunky Orthodox Jewish guy, and he shudders- it's so touching to me, and so sad that anyone would be craving human touch that badly... Add to that the experience of the question and answer period, where I felt Sasha could have used her presence to educate people on the options about legalization vs decriminalization, or women and victimization in porn (both the pros and cons), or being a sex positive feminist. She said that she felt all women were feminists, which is sort of a cop out- I feel like feminism takes consciousness about the choices you make and why. And it annoyed me that people asked things like "would you encourage your daughters to follow in your footsteps" and "what do your parents think", questions that have been used forever to tell women to shut up and sit down about their sexuality because of family values. Grrr. Sasha tried, I think, as she drew parallels to the relative morality of porn performers vs politicians,  but I just wish she had said a bit more. I felt like she let a lot of questions lie unanswered. Granted, she's a performer, not an escort, and it's a very different experience...

I went to go see "The Girlfriend Experience" with Sh (an ex-client of mine, now an excellent friend) which was both awkward but provided a chance for a really good discussion for how he felt when I did take that step from the professional to a personal relationship. In the film, Chelsea feels she really clicked with a client, agrees to spend the weekend with him, and is crushed when he doesn't meet her at the hotel he booked in the country. I have total empathy for Chelsea in that moment- you don't know what will happen when the boundaries are blurred, and you can never go back after you make that step. I don't know what I would've done if Sh had backed out around shopping for toys and fetish clothes... but he didn't, and he's been getting so, so much better about taking a risk and seeing what might happen instead of turning tail. I have a lot of respect for that. At the same time, I totally felt for Chelsea in the movie- the idea that you might meet and click with these guys at work, but they may never respect you as a person, as a viable lover and partner. You're always going to be that bit on the side, by nature of your profession. 

I left this movie feeling a mixture of frustration with the audience and the lack of sex workers there to say what they thought about the movie, and their responses, pleased that Sasha said that the two escorts she spoke to had dated and/or married their clients (suggesting these aren't bad men), somewhat awkward about being there with Sh, regretful for how things began and finished with him, and determination to stay active and outspoken to challenge people's beliefs about sex work.

But the big joy of the night was this- Sh told his girlfriend about his paying for two sessions with me. This is possibly one of the most amazing things someone has done in a long time. He's never been honest with the people around him about me and, as much as I tried not to take it personally, and knew it was about the status of the client in society vs being the worker, it still hurt. For him to have told her was just... really heartwarming, and special, and made me feel... I dunno. Cared about. Respected.

It just made me a little wistful for the day that I will be a girlfriend, and not just a GFE.

It'll happen. Patience.

Would I see the movie again? Probably. It wasn't the movie that was incredible to me as it was the questions and thoughts that cropped up, though.

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pretty ponies, latex lasses, geek gods, and sexy salons

I don't even know if I can begin to describe how amazing this last weekend was.

For now, I'll just say this:

-had a lot of fun latex browsing with a very cute girl, who I'm going to call Tm (typhoid mary, I think she'll approve)- I enjoy hanging out with her, because she's similarly into cephalopods, geeky things, and clothes, and she's gorgeous and smart. Hanging out with her has been really fun and I feel lucky to have her in my life!

-had an amazing date with a cute boy- and saw Jonathan Coulton, who is basically a rock geek god as far as I'm concerned. The perfect set, a great venue, and JoCo broke the cover off usb drive I bought with all his music and whatnot on it- so he gave me another for free, and signed it. :D

-then went to a private party with the aforementioned Tm, and another girl who I'd like to call La (lead acetate, or lead sugar). We were all sort of apprehensive, being three girls going to a sex party, but it was really fun! La, with her big eyes, asked me to help Tm cotop her, and, well, I obliged. I'm a giver, what can I say? Tm got her hands a bit dirty, and La left a puddle on the floor. It was delicious. I was even lucky enough to bring La home with me for more fun and snuggles. And I have a big old crush on La now... the prettiest pony evar. :D God, did ever a girl look so sexy in a bit gag? I mean, really. It just shouldn't be allowed.

-Sunday was the Kinky Salon meeting- yes, we're looking at starting a London version of Kinky Salon.. it'll be very private and very silly. It was a very productive meeting, though we're still in a place to keep a lot of info under wraps. Still, I'm excited for it, as is the crew!

-then on Monday Sh took me to go see "Girlfriend Experience" with Sasha Gray. My reaction that is basically tomorrow's blog, so I'll leave it for now. I'll just say I was touched in a few places of the movie that I think only an escort would get- and found the reaction of the audience almost more interesting than the film itself... In addition, I learned some stuff about Sh that made me really proud of his progress. God, he's grown a lot and opened a lot since I first met him...! The main thing is, he was finally honest with someone about how we met- his girlfriend- and she accepted it without any issue. This is a huge deal for me, because feeling like I have to hide my work and/or be ashamed of it is really difficult. To be accepted that easily, and for him to get the courage to say that he was a client of mine, is just amazing. I felt and feel accepted and cared about, in a weird way. I feel... embraced, in a way he hadn't before. And it makes me feel good that he isn't ashamed anymore.

Hopefully I have a few unique clients this week- definitely will on the weekend as I have an interesting couple to play with!

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hey, jealousy

There's a big monogamy vs polyamory brainfuck going on in my head at the moment, probably because I'm as single as I've even been.

I've been in the poly world since I was 18, if not a bit before, really. I always had multiple relationships going on, whether it be via cheating or polyamory or serial monogamy. I know that my eyes tend to wander, and the rest of me follows close behind. Never mind that my work requires I have sexual and kinky intimacy with strangers! So, monogamy? Not really something in my radar, and in general, I've been ok with that.
But the people around me are no longer in the same whirl of romance. Many, if not most, of them are settling down, coupling up, moving in together, nesting.
And I'm jealous.
I'm jealous because it's been a good long while since I was someone's primary. In fact, it's been a year, officially, though unofficially I'd say it was more like a year and a half. The men I date tend to be motivated at work, which is lovely, but also tends to mean that work is the primary. And/or, they tend to be in other relationships already- so the person may be my primary, but I'm their secondary. And yes, of course, we can debate the use of terms and boxes and labels- but the fact is, there's the person you have meet your family, the person you spend the holidays with, the person you live with. Call them what you like- it's the same idea whatever you title it.
And I really do wonder if that's ever going to happen for me. The primary, I mean. That person who, emotionally, pays attention to me first.
I don't honestly think they exist.
I've said it before- it sucks, but I'm generally the girl you have kinky sex with, the dirty secret, the mistress, not the girl you get emotionally involved with, or fall in love with. I'm the one you go crazy for, who opens you up in new ways, so you can then dump me and have an incredible relationship with someone else. Again. And again. And again.
It's exhausting.
Maybe it's because of my work. Maybe it's because I'm polyamorous. Maybe it's because I move from SF to London and back. I wonder if there's anything, really, I can do about it, if there's a way to keep my work and my casual play and still have a boyfriend or girlfriend who adores me. I wonder if it's actually true that being a sex worker requires a personal sacrifice- the sacred whore coupled to her gods, her spiritual calling, instead of another person. I wonder if it's my fault, if I'm making a decision to never settle down because I feel this pull towards my work, if I am looking for a unicorn in wishing to meet someone who will love me for who I am, not in spite of it. Is it just too much?
I thought about being monogamous, lying about my work and casual sex, but at least having that person to cling to. But that's unethical, and I'm a shit liar, and would never keep the names straight or remember to delete text messages to maintain that illusion.
I thought about being emotionally monogamous and playing around. But I can't really control my heart, and this fucking stupid empathy thing means that I love people easily and intensely. Can I corral that? Do I want to? Would I be making a promise I can't keep? And would I want to only have one loving relationship?
I thought about polyamory. And the fact is, while I'd love to think I could meet a polyamorous guy or girl who would be my primary and yet be ok with me loving other people and maintaining my work, it becomes more and more of a pipe dream every time I have a relationship with someone who says they're cool with it only to discover they aren't, actually. And here in London, polyamory just isn't common. It's hard enough for a Brit to be emotionally intimate with ONE person, much less more than one. And frankly, in San Francisco, the people I'm drawn to, time and time again, already have a primary and just aren't able to commit in that way.
So what do I do?
I've been in London for about 2 weeks now, and while yes, I could have some casual sex or casual kink to ease the loneliness and get back into the swing of things, it's a salve, not a cure. Snuggles are hard to get here, because, well, monogamy is the norm and jealousy shoulders into the way of snuggletime with friends. Or time is precious and there's too much going on for there to be time.
I try not to be demanding. And yes, I can and do take care of myself, often.
I miss being precious to someone, though. It's hard not to feel sad every time I make someone else feel amazing and special at work and knowing that just isn't to be found for myself... maybe even because of the nature of my business. And I hate myself every time I find myself melting into a hug with a client, or kissing them more intimately than maybe I should, because I'm so starved for someone to feel that way about me. I feel stupid, and needy, and like a liar, and like an idiot for being socialized to want that love so badly. Why aren't I enough? And I feel tossed on the waves between wanting SO BADLY to be someone's lover, beloved, and wanting to be independent and not needy and logical.
And then I think about all this and feel so emotionally fucked in the head that I scold myself and say it's no wonder that person doesn't show up.
Is it possible to be a sex worker and be loved? Is it me, or society, getting in the way?
And if it isn't possible, so I have the strength to do this work that's so important to me, but do it alone...?
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Capiche?

I'm sitting in Soho at Sh's flat, snuggled into a bed that's an oasis of warmth in an otherwise cold room. It's sort of strange, really, as I haven't been here overnight since that last horrible night in January, before I flew back to California- he's letting me stay while he visits his girlfriend abroad. I keep feeling weird twinges of nostalgia mixed with maybe a touch of regret and some loneliness- it feels so comfortable and familiar and yet somehow so distant. So much tenderness, and trust was exchanged here... but also so much strife, so many tears. And yet here I am, like none of it happened, yet with the weight of that history hitting me like a brick.


Anyway, Sh left me a note and told me to watch "The Godfather"- something I've never seen but always meant to, and tonight it just seemed strangely appropriate. Something about how the police can be bribed to harass certain people and not others, maybe...?

Tonight there's a debate about whether or not a Crime and Policing bill should go through here in the UK that will make being a client one step closer to being complicated and illegal... a strong arm, indirect way to make my work harder and less enjoyable. When you make aspects of sex work illegal, it doesn't stop it from happening- it just makes it easier to exploit the people who are going to be doing it anyway. In addition, it's going to change the permits so that stripping will need an adult establishment license instead of an entertainment one- again, going to make it harder for sex workers in the hope that it improves public safety somehow.

To give you an idea, I've copied a bit of an article in the Guardian-

"they are fired by the belief that all sex work is an affront to female dignity (they say little or nothing about men who sell sex). It follows that no woman would sell sex unless she was forced to do so. Ergo, all prostitutes are forced into their work, ergo trafficked. Those who say otherwise (the English Collective of Prostitutes, the International Union of Sex workers) are so brutalised by their work that they know not what they say. To wipe out trafficking we have to wipe out prostitution, by making it illegal for men to buy sex from women who are "controlled for gain". And that's what the policing and crime bill is trying to do.

Who is controlled for gain? Anyone who uses a booking agent. Not pop stars or after-dinner speakers or concert pianists, of course. Just any sex worker with a booking agent. Anyone who shares the rent on a flat with someone else in the trade. Practically anyone who isn't working in absolute isolation, where she is most vulnerable to assault and least accessible to support services. Obviously, forcing women to work alone makes the legal activity of selling sex a much more dangerous business.

Under the new bill, a punter is at fault even if he didn't know the vendor was "controlled", so anyone who buys sex, even from someone who says he or she is working voluntarily, is at risk if she later turns out to have been sharing a flat, for instance. Right now, punters provide the police with most of their tips about sex workers who are potentially coerced or underage. But if reporting your suspicions might land you in jail yourself, you're going to be a lot less forthcoming. Obviously, then, criminalising men who buy sex will make it harder to find and help the small number of women who are genuinely forced or terrorised into selling sex."

Last night I sent out a bunch of emails to the various people debating this bill in the hopes that, with enough voices from people affected maybe we can overturn this, or at least encourage the politicians to ask a few more questions. But I worry. I worry because of the number of people who make out my clients to be the sorts of guys who want to buy a woman because of some ownership fantasy. That's just not my experience. Sure, I bet it happens, don't get me wrong... but the clients I have aren't evil. They're just guys who want a woman who enjoys what they enjoy, that they find attractive, and they're happy to give her some money for her time and expertise. Skills for money- it's not shady, it's a trade, and as I have the right to say no, it's one I have control over. Making it more illegal means making it rougher trade.

So, House of Lords... I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse.

Keep your morals out of my bedroom, help me stay safe by allowing me to work with other women instead of alone, allow me to tell the police if I have an issue...

...and I'll pay your taxes.
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"Schrödinger’s Rapist"

"When you approach me in public, you are Schrödinger’s Rapist. You may or may not be a man who would commit rape."


I think what I got out of the post, which is pretty much summed up by the above quote, was best described in the comments- "this post is not an instruction manual to women on why they should regard every man as a rapist; it’s a rejoinder to the scads of men who think women owe them conversation just by being in public." Which is something I can agree with. I definitely see a lot of men day to day who believe that women ought to positively respond to their interactions, and get pissy when women don't play ball with male privilege. And yes, there is a good possibility that every day I'm brushing shoulders with a guy who can and will commit rape or a form of sexual assault.

However, I also had three big problems with the rest of the entry, as much as I liked that quote.

1) My #1 issue was also summed up in the comments quite well- "You know, if you replace “man” with “young black male”, and “rapist” with “mugger”, and substitute the appropriate statistics, you’ve got yourself an argument you’d see on Stormfront. Is it OK for me to go with “Schrodinger’s mugger” and assume that any young black guy I see on the subway is a mugger until I know otherwise? Because assuming that any man could be a rapist is about the same mentality."

This hit the nail right on the head with what made me recoil from this post.

I think the point about Schrödinger’s Rapist is a good one. You don't really know one way or the other, and have to be prepared for both possibilities. I think fear is a reasonable response. I don't think I would want to take it as my own, however.

People make good points about the rapist situation being the oppressor scaring on the oppressed, instead of the mugger situation, which is the oppressed scaring the oppressor, btw, so I know it's not an altogether well-constructed argument, but anyway...

While I know that the men I walk past day to day could be rapists, I am not terribly fearful about that. I walk on my own late at night. I respond politely and succinctly to comments on public transit when asked polite questions, and am excellent at making my boundaries clear. I walk with my head high, alert, but not on guard. I would say I act in awareness, risk assessed awareness, and feel confident that I can take care of a bad situation. I don't give a flying fuck how much male privilege they think they have, they're still not going to make me into a victim, or fearful of becoming one.

Perhaps this confidence is, in part, due to my work, and the fact that I've had one or two times where things went pear shaped. My guard was down. But I was able to go from 0 to 90 in about 10 seconds, and what could've escalated didn't because of trusting my instincts. Because I've been in that situation, I can trust myself to react the way I need to in times of duress.

In other words- yes, the cat might be dead, but it might also be alive, and he might not be a rapist, and chances are better that he isn't than that he is. I mean, do whatever you need to do to feel safe. Seriously. I just don't think being afraid makes you safe, I think it makes you anxious, and therefore victim-y, and therefore more at risk. If you're waiting for a guy to prove he isn't a rapist (or maybe that he is someone to watch) then you are always reacting to others- not generally a position of control or strength.

Which leads to my #2 issue.


Women being afraid of rape and men wanting to be supportive and compassionate about that fear has led to an awful lot of men not wanting to initiate conversation, or speak up for themselves. Yes, ok, male privilage, but patriarchy hurts EVERYONE. Mono is, actually, one excellent example of this. He is uncomfortable with masculine energy, in himself or around him. He struggles to balance making a move and not wanting to be creepy, as many men do. And it's very, very hard.

I totally empathize with this. Dating women has given me an appreciation for how hard they (and I!) can be to read. What works on one girl (grabbing her hair to pull in for a kiss) makes another girl homicidal, and there's no way to tell unless you fling yourself over the cliff with the attempt. I remember trying to read Hysteria, and how hard that was sometimes- initiating play was a toss up, might be just what she wanted, or might make her annoyed, and not initiating (which was often the passive, safer move) either led to, well, nothing, or her asking me petulantly why I didn't DO anything with her. There was no consistent answer, no way to tell that was guaranteed, and there would be hell to pay if I guessed wrong! No wonder I have to initiate all the time in bed, as does Miss V, my girlfriend. It drives her insane, feeling like she always has to take the next step, but I know why- many nice guys read stuff like the above article and, scared they might be acting too creepy or being too aggressive, fall back as much as they can.

And so the girl types into her laptop about how the cute boy is ignoring her... and all because both feel more comfortable with fear-based non-action than, say, communicating.

And it all sort of cumilates into point 3.

3) Some men really are assholes, but most men, I think, are just badly socialized.

Now, a few women discussed this, and said "it's not my responsibility to teach them". No, it isn't, you're right. However, either the lesson will be taught, or it won't, and frankly I feel that in teaching these social lessons I am providing a loving mirror to their behavior, both giving them the opportunity to reflect on it and also the chance to do something differently. I would LIKE to live in a world without Schrödinger’s Rapist, and by saying "hi! you're in my personal space, can you step away?" or "don't touch me without permission, that's not ok" I am politely advocating for myself without being a pushover, asking for what I need directly before backing it up with angry girl energy. And yeah- some guys are pushy, and you will need to push back. But in my experience at work, and running/being at sex parties, a lot of guys really don't reflect on male privilege. This Schrödinger’s Rapist dilemma is a great place to potentially start that conversation.

This especially gets to me because, as is pointed out, most rape is committed by men already known to the women. So, men you trust, basically, men you've let this guard down with. Is it the OPs desire to we look at all men as basically incubating potential rapists and not trust any of them ever? I don't think that solves it, frankly, it just makes women more scared and men, in reaction, more scared (or, in the case of the abusers, more predatory).

In my experience, women react positively to men who are a little arrogant, men who push against women's passivity. This isn't going to show guys that being that way is a bad idea. I try to say "no" and "yes" often and directly. When I can, and do, say both comfortably and with confidence, they both have more power, more meaning. I think stating your boundaries clearly and bluntly and being comfortable following them up with whatever you need to get them met is far more effective than not trusting anyone- something supported by another commenter, who said "I’ve learned to say “no” every single time I want to, and to know that I have the skills and wisdom to have a better-than-average chance of backing that “no” up if it isn’t respected- which, 99% of the time, it is."

Someone else posted-
"It is vital that we address the behavior of men who believe that what they want is more important than what women do not want simply because their motives are positive. Highlighting that this attitude from non-rapist men mirrors the attitudes of rapist men should be a wake up call to men who don’t want to hurt women and who don’t believe women’s feelings are less important than their own."

This is really a good point, I think, and I think that the only way to get that to become a widespread idea is by communicating. That's part of the issue, I think- how do we educate guys on this? Especially if we don't feel it's our responsibility to educate them and there's not really anyone else doing it? I'll definitely say- as a sex worker I make sure to teach as much of this stuff as I can to my clients, so they get it! But people who do that are few and far between.

It's up to every woman to decide what her comfort level is, and what she's willing to risk/not risk. I can only speak for myself. For now, I choose to give everyone a neutral level of trust, and be alert but not anxious. That stranger may be Schrödinger’s Rapist, but I'll be ready for whatever outcome.

0

"get a job"

We've all either heard it said to us, or been that person to say it to someone else... "get a job". In SF, it's usually followed with "ya fucking hippie", granted, but the sentiment remains the same.

It's an interesting one, getting a job. I got a job when I was 18, because I was living on my own and it was my senior year of school. I couldn't balance the full time job I needed with class, so I dropped out and got my GED, which fit my work schedule better.

I hung out with some gutterpunks both in California and Massachusetts, and met up with squatters and the Space Hijackers in London. I had fun, and learned a few valuable lessons.

1- getting a job is not so easy. And yes, I'm including shit jobs here, ones that barely pay your expenses (if they do at all, after taxes). In order to get a job, you need to have access to interview clothes, a shower, a phone number you can be reached at, sometimes the internet. To get free internet from the library you need proof you're living somewhere. You might need money for transport to and from the job (and that might come out of your meager food money). Never mind the fact that you have to be emotionally sound enough to hold onto a job in the first place (something I, as a manic-depressive Goth kid, was not capable of at the time, though thankfully I worked at a shop where they were patient with my mania and depression and gently taught me to be professional at work). Be glad most of you reading this are in a country where you don't have to worry about health care, because over here we had to add that to the pot. Most entry level, temporary, part time, or low paying jobs don't offer any health care or vacation in exchange for your 40 hours a week.

2-"get a job", as a sentiment, suggests that a job is worth having. Quite frankly, that depends a lot on how you like to live. If you are any good at freeganism, for example, your living costs can be vastly minimized- one of my friends here dumpster dives from the organic grocery stores when they close, and they toss things like soy milk because the corner is dented! He and his wife, both in their late 30s, haven't bought groceries for 3 months. This affords them more money to spend on things they like, and minimizes the amount of time they need to spend working. I don't work here in the States because I get minimal health care when I don't work... and it could be years to get health care at a job. For a lot of people, this means their medications, say, would no longer be covered- so yes, they might get a job, but even then, they might not be able to get access to their meds, or therapy, or STI checkups. Crazy, yes, but it certainly doesn't pay to penalize people to get them to go to a job!

3-"get a job" is usually spoken to mean "get a REAL job". A job in an office. A job where you have a boss. Personally, I love living on the fringes and not being a wage slave in an office. I get to decide what I want to do, for how much, if I want to trade for things and services I need or money for the things I can't trade for. I work for myself, I have an eclectic number of skills, and I survive acceptably on that. I've been told I don't take my job seriously enough, and maybe I don't- but I have enough to live on, and enough to travel here and there, and that's enough for me. Once you've lived on the streets, you know you need shelter, warmth, and food... pretty much the rest is optional luxuries. Baths are preferable, I'll give you that. ;)

I worked in an office 40 hours a week and, while the money was good, my quality of life was terrible. I felt ignored at best, and treated like chattel at worst. I was stressed, I had to look at the clock all the time, I had to constantly worry about the fact it was a temp position and I could lose it at any time.

Quitting and finding other ways to survive and thrive saved me. It might look irresponsible to some people, but I can promise you- when I look at the unhappy, pinched faces of commuters, I'm relieved I got out.

I'm no slacker. I doubt many people would accuse me of that. I decided early on that if the choice was 3 part time mall jobs or Dominatrix work for 3x the money, um... it was no contest. I do what I love, I decide on my rates, I work when I need the money and am clever about saving it, I decide on my limits, and I take vacations when I want to, even if my vacation is just to roll in the grass for a week. This also gives me the spare time to volunteer for charities like the London Lesbian and Gay Switchboard, or food banks here. I have time to garden, and to work on other little money making projects, and to write. Not having a job certainly doesn't see me sleeping all day or loitering around... but I could. And that choice makes all the difference.

All that said- if I managed to land a job somewhere that reflected the things I enjoy, like a comic book store, or the library? I'd be working again in a heartbeat. But I would never encourage someone to "get a job" for the sake of having one. I recommend get creative, and get comfortable with discomfort- you WILL live in a squat sometimes in order to make this work, and maybe that doesn't work for you. And that's fair enough as well- everyone makes their own choices. Following your heart and your dreams isn't a recommended thing for people who need stability and safety. But hot damn! I'm glad I did, for sure.

Interesting reading: 10 reasons you should never get a job. And "How to be Idle", and the Idler in general.

0

gnashing of teeth

First and foremost- you see this thing? Do you see it??
I want one. SO BADLY.
It's like a pretty little cocoon!
I want to play in it.
And I want to put a sexy young thing in it and have them writhe around for me... mmm.
Ahem.
Anyway.
I've been seeing little trinkets I want to decorate lovers in, little silver chains and jewels for their cocks and labia...
And, amusingly enough, I was just watching America's Funniest Home Videos with Grandma... and there's a video with a woman who takes her video camera and she won't let her husband into the house or car until he does a little dance for her... in public, at home, anytime. I love it. I don't know why exactly that juices me up, but it totally hit my kink buzzer. Probably because it's controlling but also ridiculous.
I am chomping at the bit to buy some new toys and play again. I miss work, and the variety of temptations and scenarios I got to come up with every week. I mean, I'm sort of glad I've had enough time off to miss it instead of being sick of it like I had been... but I'm ready for the kink celibacy to be over now plz!
It's not entirely true, this whining. Mono and I get to do a little slap and sexin' here and there. which is nice... I do wonder sometimes if there's something severely wrong with me that I get off the more my lover looks like he's pissed at me while we're fucking, but never mind. I had a chance to play with Vapors, a friend and possible new play partner, but... I dunno what blocked me. I guess it's also nice to hang out, and that's what I needed then.
But with Folsom coming up, I want to do something fun. Kinky. Public. I want to fist a girl on the sidewalk. Or whip a boy's back til he looks like Christ after the Romans. Except I don't think my whip would go that deep.
Rawr. RAWR! The Beast wants out! So watch out for me at Folsom... I might have a gleam in my eye.
0

fame- I wanna learn how to fly...

Out in London, I had a friend.
I don't honestly recall how I met her, but she was really neat. Intelligent, curious, fun to be around, go shopping with, get coffee with... just a really lovely girl.
She wanted to get into pro Domming again. She had done it before, but wanted to give it a go again in London. So I introduced her to some people, taught her some stuff, showed her the ropes, so to speak.
It wasn't long before she was getting way more bookings than I was... something I tried and still try not to be jealous of but am, terribly. She'd get contacted more often for media stuff, she'd get the bookings, if we did doubles the clients would always pick her again. And when we worked in the same place, slowly I saw her work bookings bypass mine, first by a little, then a lot...
There's a part of me that knows exactly why. For all that I love the work I do, she's excellent at showing her disgust for the submissives she sees. I'm not. I really care about my clients, and want to help them expand and explore the world of kink. I think she doesn't mind that, but she also tends to find the guys she sees kinda naff. Which, fair enough, you know? And guys totally seem to get off on being slapped by a woman who hates to touch them. Fucked up? Oh yes...
And the other thing is... she's slender. Slender girls do better in the sex trade. I don't do poorly, over there, but not as well as I might do had I been born into a family where a size 10 comes easily. I didn't. My family is on the zaftig side. And I don't normally care, but...
I hope I get a chance to really shine in this profession, even if I'm not a size 10. Because I have passion for this business, I really do. And I want to succeed. I want to please my clients and I want to continually up my game. I want my clients to leave me feeling better about themselves.
And I want to be successful enough to not feel envy grip my heart when I see her. I want to be able to be glad she's doing well instead of feeling competitive. And I still like her, though we barely talk anymore. I wonder, in a way, if introducing her into this business meant that I lost her as a friend...
I hope not.