Posts

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oh for fuck's sake

I have a lot of patience. I've laughed when people have said I have the patience of a saint, but I will generally take a lot of bullshit in stride.

It's taken me a long time to move away from drama in my life. Like Syph said to me many months ago, "how complicated do you want your life to be?" I realized I didn't want it to be terribly complicated anymore, that I was tired of juggling vast emotional commitments and putting up with lackluster emotional attentiveness in return. The friends and lovers I have in my life now are people who gave of themselves as much as I offered of myself, people who have shown me they are willing to challenge themselves, grow, and take care of their emotional well-being.
And I refuse, absolutely refuse, to guess what people want or need from me.
I'm going to get a bit catty for a moment.
After my split with Hysteria, I hadn't posted about it in the interest of avoiding drama, in spite of her blogs saying how I was a terrible, selfish Top. Eventually, months later, I posted a blog about our breaking it off. I tried to be introspective, to acknowledge how I failed the relationship, and what hadn't worked for me- for example, I was trying to juggle multiple lovers with sex work, always a difficult prospect. I tried, even, multiple times to speak to her about it. But every time, she lashed out about how horrible I was, how I was abusive like every other Dom she had played with.
Well, in a moment of nolstagia, I thought I'd check on Hysteria, who was planning to move to London. She had gotten in touch with another friend of mine, and I though, "aw, wonder how she's doing?"
Her blog indicated she had read mine... and she was pissed off that I said something about her having this emotional void (ignoring, of course, everything else I said about my own failings, but never mind). In fact, she indicated that she regretted not gouging larger marks in my arms to prove her emotional... presence, I suppose, if not stability. I think the fact she scarred me *at all* would be something to be apologetic about, especially since it was during a scene SHE indicated she wanted.
Hysteria was my lesson in this: no matter how cute, and young, and seeming eager someone may be- self-awareness, confidence, and good communication skills are ENDLESSLY more important.
Considering I'm not 100% confident as a Domme anyway, this shook me up a little. I had to reflect- *am* I abusive as a Top? I didn't think so. But thankfully, TB was available to check in about it, and I was reassured. I'm not a bad Dominant. I'm learning, sure, and I've learned that it's better to have 2 lovers who are amazing than 5 who just meet my needs in snippets. And I don't have to justify or apologize to anyone for wanting to snuggle, and receive affection, whether I'm a Dominant or not. I'm a person, and I deserve that. And when needs are communicated to me, I get better and better at serving those needs effectively and lovingly. Strangely, I'm also very grateful, again, for the time with Sh... who showed me that it's possible to move beyond dark, unpleasant times to emerge into something positive and amazing.
So, Hysteria is, well, hysterical. I guess I should have seen that coming. I did what I could, I apologized, I gave her space- but I'm tired of being attacked indirectly and slandered in a community I'm not present to defend myself in. I remember being her age, not that long ago- I loved drama then, too. I hope it serves her well... but I'm glad to be old enough to move on.
/cattiness
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mending fences

I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself.

Sh was here- came to Burning Man, and spent some time in San Francisco, so we spent a fair bit of time together. In fact, I encouraged him not to read this blog til afterwards, since I had written some pretty raw stuff and didn't want us to just argue about who did what to whom. I was terrified, walking through the walkway to the arrivals lounge to meet him, totally unsure how I would react to being around him again.
Well, I still love him. And the intimacy, tempered by months apart and time to heal, is still there, at least for me. But where, before, my love for him was tainted with anxiety and fear of loss, now it's just deep, and sweet, and trusting. Does it matter that we're not dating anymore? Not really. I think as friends we've become closer than we had as lovers. It makes me regret that we had to do it in that order, but the nature in which we met and the issues we had to work out... it is what it is.
We had a marvelous time. Sh met my friends, met Mono, did shrooms with me on the playa, got his nipples pierced, wandered the Castro, checked out the leather shops, ate chicken and waffles, visited Mission Control... but the thing I really hold to, more than anything, is the snuggling and the talking. Spooning, facing the open desert, watching the people go by... I felt so safe, and loved, and comfortable. And I am so, so glad to have him back, and for us to be friends again.
Granted, I miss our play, I miss the perverted depths he would explore with me, and I'll happily keep the door open a crack, in case circumstances change enough that we have stability we'd need to push off. You never know. I've not had another play partner who is as willing to explore the dark... and who else would I bring out the Habitrail with...? But I also understand the current boundaries, and the reasoning, and I agree with them. So, in time, maybe.
Sh flew off yesterday, and I knew I'd miss him, but was ok. Then I had a session, and Sia was playing in the background, and the submissive put my foot in his mouth, and I was slammed back into that Soho bedroom, reading LOLcats in bed and eating bacon. And my heart wrenched.
But it's worth it. So worth it.
Sh was a client, way back when. One I kind of dreaded meeting due to his detailed email of what he wanted from a session. He became a fuck buddy, then a lover, then a bitter ex, and now... he's part of the pack. While I was hurting, I said that I regretted taking our relationship away from a professional one, that I didn't love him anymore, that I missed who he used to be but not who he turned into. I know what all that's about- when he broke it off with me, I felt rejected, burned, because I had trusted him deeply in ways I hadn't trusted anyone before, and he was leaving me. I reacted to that pain by striking out, being mean, putting up armor. But I do love him. And I don't regret letting him get close to me. I never saw him coming, but I couldn't imagine not having gone to that session and meeting him, now. He sculpted part of who I am, as a Domme, as a sex worker, and as a person.
And I'm grateful.
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you probably know and care about a closeted sex worker.

Reading webcomics is something I often indulge in, as a geek. My favourites are xkcd, Sinfest, Wondermark, and a softer world, but I also read others. Some of them are in better taste than others, for sure.

But I was pretty annoyed when I came across ctrl+alt+del today. Cause, you know, dead women aren't funny, but dead prostitutes are! Hahahaha!
Why aren't you laughing?
Oh, is it possibly because the dead prostitute is, over and over again, used as a hilarious prop to the point of normalcy?
::sigh::
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personal

After a couple of obviously confused emails from men "just seeing" if I wanted to play with them and their "girlfriend", I have a couple of nibbles on a recently posted Craigslist ad. Only one, however, who makes the effort to 1) show she read my ad by referring to it and 2) spell. We'll see what else slips through the cracks.

The whole idea of this personal ad was to have a recent casual encounter hookup story. What does a sex worker who likes casual play with cute crazy chicks write for a personal ad? Well, here it is:
"Fierce Femme iso Sensual Sleaze
Idle hands are the devil's playthings. So I'd like to put them to use, along with my tongue, my creativity, and my toybox. Up for it?

I'd love to meet someone 22-35, though I'm flexible. I appreciate and adore butches and femmes alike- I love to top, with bondage, S/m, and D/s high on my list of erotic enjoyments. Extra points if you like to get a bit edgy- dark whispered words with steel at your throat, or some cling film wrapped around you, leaving you in helpless cocoon... or, if the chemistry's right, maybe we can switcheroo..?

I'm an hourglass shaped girl with long pink/red hair, glasses, and a geeky brain. I have xkcd tattoos. I prefer women who have a geeky side to them, but it's certainly not a requirement. Be warned, though- I break pillow princesses.

My living situation means I can't host, unfortunately (I keep house for my grandmother). However, maybe that means we have to get creative- hot tubs, an alleyway, a bar bathroom? I'm up for it if you are.

I'll bring the gloves, the lube, and the rope. You bring clear communication... and a sense of adventure. "

What do you think? Would you answer it?
All things considered, I'm kinda hoping I end up with one or two hot dates out of this. It's been a while since I made someone cry, and, well. You begin to wonder if you lost your touch.
I'd better watch out for Julie Bindel, though! I mean, goodness, I might SPANK these women! I might even tie them up! Or *gasp! shock! horror!* USE A DILDO.
I'll be sleeping with one eye open, just in case. I guess as a "traitor to the side" I have to. It's a filthy job, but...
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obviously I need a good woman to tell me what to do

So I came back from Burning Man (which I'll tell you all about in detail later) to find in my inbox an article written by the incredibly pompous Julie Bindel in G3 (a free UK lesbian mag) about how lesbian strippers are leading women to "act like men" and be abusive or some such bullshit. "Even lesbians who don't give a toss about feminism should at least care about women being abused by other women!" she cries in an inflammatory op ed piece. Included, of course, in her wrath is how San Francisco made things like lesbian sex workers, S/m, and porn acceptable. I can't help but think she hasn't come to San Francisco ever in her life.

I was infuriated enough to write a response. Haven't sent it in yet. What are your thoughts?
"I felt exploited.
I had to sit, and smile, and pass as pretty and feminine, with perfect makeup and an eager-to-serve demeanor. I had to laugh it off as my opinions were ignored in preference to my appearances. I had to keep my brain stashed away, because I wasn't there to be intelligent.
I was working as front of house for a marketing company, and I never felt more helpess and unhappy in my life.
So, I quit, and became a freelancer. I set up my own hours, gave myself the free time I needed when I needed it, decided how I wanted to save my money and what sort of workplace I wanted to be in. More to the point, I never bowed down to a (typically male) boss again.
I became a sex worker. A dominatrix, mostly, but an escort sometimes as well. And good god, I couldn't be happier. I've worked with shy, geeky men, bi-curious older women, and kinky couples wanting to learn some new skills. I've helped disabled people discover their sexuality, and sexual trauma survivors reclaim sensual touch. I have a lot of compassion for my clients, who either can't find the sex they're looking for because they're not sure how or who to ask for it, or because they want a one-time, low drama experience. And personally? As a queer girl, my experiences with casual encounters on gumtree has led to me preferring to pay for what I want too. Almost all of my clients have a guilt complex about coming to me to ask for what they want, and the recent article in G3 just further exposed why they come to me instead of talking to each other.
Julie Bindel's opinion piece about sex work (which also encompassed S/m and double ended dildos, curiously) irritated me. I'm 25. I'm really tired of other women telling me that I don't know what I enjoy and what's good for me. I'm an adult, making adult choices that I'm happy about, thanksverymuch. Never mind that she indicates that an interest in kink, phone sex, strap-ons and voyeurism is just thinly veiled abusive behaviour. More offensively, she interchangeably uses "abusive" and "masculine behaviour" like they're inexplicably one and the same. I can't be the first to point out that emotional abuse and maipulation is not an exclusively male world by any means.
I've lived in London and in San Francisco, and I can't help but think Julie Bindel must have never come here. Had she ever spoken to the girls at the Lusty Lady, the unionized peep show, or at Pink and White Productions or Cyberdyke, two of our local queer porn companies, and kept an open mind, perhaps she would actually hear what the women who work in these companies think and feel. I feel more patronized and exploited by her article than I ever have in my work as an escort and Dominatrix.
There are people who inform me that I'm exploited, that I sell my body and my self-esteem, that I'm abused. Well, sure, I don't always skip my way to work, and sometimes, I can't be bothered to smile and play nice. But two things- one? Sex work is still work, folks, and it has its ups and downs like any other job- just when you complain about working in a cubicle, people don't instantly start telling you to quit. Secondly, since I am in charge of my own schedule, if I have a bad feeling about a client or I don't want to go to work... I don't have to. And that's not because I earn crazy money per session, but rather because I've learned enough about finance to cushion those times when I need a break. Can you say the same?
If you want to address issues of exploitation, start by helping women, especially minority women, have better access to education, job training, childcare, and financial assistance. Many women go into sex work when they don't really want to because it's the only way they can support themselves and their families with little education and few resources. Other women work 2-3 jobs in order to scrape by. Situations like that breed resentment and exploitation, and are hotbeds for abuse. It's easy to point as sex workers and their clients and say "see, there! That's the problem!" but it isn't a source- it's a symptom of a deeper, more complicated issue. Never mind the fact that some of us queer sex workers actually quite enjoy our work- on our terms, with our boundaries respected, and our choices honored.
I doubt many people know this history, but there was a time in the mid 1800's where social justice was a big influence in the politics of the day. At that time, well-meaning activists insisted that women couldn't know or consent to their exploitation- women were strongly encouraged to leave the sex industry, one of the only ways women could independently support themselves with any success. Even Charles Dickens founded a home to help "fallen women" get "virtuous" jobs. Sound familiar?
The clash at the time between the Reform movement and the Repeal movement ended up birthing one of the greatest evils women lived with in the United Kingdom- Magdalene Asylums.
Julie Bindel, please don't speak for me. I'm capable of speaking up for myself."
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duststorms

Well, before anything else, let me introduce...

My new etsy shop with the silly hats and maybe (post BM) other random clothes and crafts I'm sewing up. Yay! I'm even hearted by three people. Granted, one of them has to love me. :)
As anyone within a mile of me knows, I'm getting ready to leave for That Thing in the Desert. I can't wait to flavour trip, get a seaweed spa mask, make some horns, adopt some art, and have a drink at the mead bar.
But what you might not know is that I am forever grateful to a Burning Man camp called the Bureau for Erotic Discourse (or, B.E.D.) for giving me the wherewithal to state my boundaries. I have a button from them I wear a lot- "negotiate sex", and it was that simple phrase that made me a better lover, and a better sex worker. You may've also heard me say "communication makes the best lube"- well, that was something they said, and another clever phrase that sticks in the mind. Both phrases are easy to remember, and playful enough to not offend if you have to step back and say, "whoa there, cowboy, ask first, yeah?" I like that.
Burning Man is one place where it feels, for a short week, that I don't have to worry about people judging my work, or judging me because I enjoy my work. Everyone gets to be crazy and countercultural and creative and interesting. No one needs to delve deeper, unless you both have the focus and desire to. I mean, I feel sometimes like I have to talk endlessly about my work, and be super careful about what I say, because I become the face of Sex Workers to that person, and I don't want to be misunderstood. At Burning Man, I can let go, and just be me, not a representation of a whole group.
And it's a relief. I can't wait.
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letting go


I have a confession to make.

I let Hysteria walk.
She was gorgeous, and young, and interested in things that are just *wrong* and I thought somehow we could make that all work out. Even without affection. Without kissing. Without emotional exchange.
It wasn't enough.
I know it was the right thing to do. She was furious with me for not posting about it at the time, now only 3 months ago. I didn't know what to say about it. She thought I was being selfish and putting other lovers before her, and she was right. I didn't get what I needed from her so I just quietly pulled away. It was the easy thing to do, but not the right one, and just reminded her or every other Dom she's played with who abandoned her. I didn't know how to say that her emotional void threatened to suck me in, to devour me, and I didn't know if I would be able to crawl back out.
She never wanted to be my girlfriend, or even mine, but she was jealous of the others, of the time I spent with them. It was another relationship where talking about other lovers stirred up trouble, a rule I've never been good at and have hopefully now learned not to agree to. I remember she was upset that I cared about her less because she didn't have a penis. I'd like to say that isn't true, but our girl-on-girl chemistry was janky and weird, it didn't slide smoothly. Square peg, round hole. So I gave up, and when she stormed off, I let her go, and didn't bother trying to get her back.
It feels like an old wound, though. And I've healed, though I carry the scars (literally, actually- she clawed me once and I have little half moons on my arm now, but never mind). I didn't love her, not in a deep way anyway, but I cared and still care about her wellbeing. She demanded more than I was willing to give, or even interested in giving to someone who couldn't reflect back. And sometimes, it felt like I broke through, and she'd smile, and express an interest in things- and then she'd close down again, like a venus flytrap, tight.
I miss our friendship and our flirting, for sure. Hysteria was someone I had high hopes for in terms of knowing for a long time. But at the same time, my situation with her is similar to my situation with long lost friend T- ultimately I don't regret my behaviour, and I will take care of myself first and express my needs, and I make no apologies for that. I hope she finds healing, someday. I also don't hold grudges, and I try hard to feel compassion and to let go of my hurt and fear- I no longer burn bridges if I can avoid it.
This comes to mind especially with Sh coming here, to San Francisco, next week. I'm nervous beyond belief that I won't be able to let go of my anger and hurt, that I think it's gone now and it'll come flooding back. I felt very strongly that he wounded me deeply, all those months ago, and I wounded him back. It's a true test of my integrity and courage if I can let go of that and open my arms to him... starting that trust again. And I'm gonna try. He's shown me trustworthiness so far. I just have to channel the Fool.
Because I don't want Sh to end up in my life like Hysteria or T, angry, resentful, always in the background of my mind but hopeless.
I let Hysteria go because I knew she didn't need me and I needed things she couldn't provide, and because I knew she'd be happier with more attention from a stricter Dom.
I hope she'll know, someday, that it was an act of love, not an act of dismissal.
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hey you guys!

Ohai.

I'm not dead. Really. I've just been crazy busy getting ready for That Thing in the Desert, costuming, getting supplies, and having fucking great times in the meantime.
Like, you know how awesome it can be when you have a threesome with someone you've been kinda aching to play with? And you know how awesome it is when someone else you like playing with joins in with their hot partner? And then someone ELSE cute tags along for the ride? And there's giggling and moaning to mashups in the background?
What do you mean you haven't had that experience before?
Ok, ok, so I'm bragging a little. But ffs, I've been completely frigid the past couple months and am just starting to thaw, so this was a big deal, and as it went amazingly well, now I find myself cruising everywhere I go. So, yay for that.
I have some porn to review in the next few days, along with an upcoming post on "would sex work ever be eradicated... and should it?" And I'll babble about Burning Man, cause, well, I want to join the crowd.
I haven't worked once since I've been here. I haven't been trying terribly hard, granted, cause I've been not feeling it, and it's a cycle thing- you don't feel it, so you don't, and you don't get that spark from it, so you don't do it, etc. But I can feel my toppy side coming out of hibernation, and I've been thoroughly enjoying the face-slapping spanking fun with Mono, so hopefully soon I'll have some interesting tales.
Oh, also? My hair is now pink.
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life as the most sexual frigid girl in the world

t's been 2 months, maybe a little longer, since I last had sex for money. And in that time, I've had sex twice, I think. Finding dominatrix work out here has been a struggle, between not having an incall and being virtually unknown here anymore. Never mind that most of the clients I speak to treat me like a wank rag, not a woman. Not interested in that sort of session.
It's funny, in a way, but I almost miss my job. I miss what whoring did for my libido, for my self-esteem, never mind the erasing of my financial worries. I miss clients who treat me with respect. I miss being overbooked, having to shut my phone off because I had too many calls. I miss the flirtacious, witty banter, the cocktails at Freud, the meandering walks to the wine bar. In London, it felt glamourous, and I felt independent. Here, it feels sleazy, like hustling, and I'm still not making it.
I've been asked by a few people why I haven't been blogging. Lack of inspiration, for sure, and being busy with Burning Man and other projects. But also, it feels like a disappointment, both to not have any clients to write about and also to be sexually frigid. I could go out on dates, but when it comes to the condoms and lube, I often find myself bored. What is it? A lack of kink? Do I need a new boy or girl to play with and get me inspired again? Is it stress? Maybe all those things, or none.
But I miss my sexuality. And I miss feeling like an adult. I can't wait to get back to work, and back home to my sweeties. Here's to hoping...
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fucking hippies

I’m sitting here in my grandmother’s Berkeley house, up in the hills, surrounded by elderly people and the wealthy, overlooking San Francisco and the Golden Gate bridge. I’m watching a documentary on hippies, and the revolt against reason, logic, monotheistic religions. I’m fascinated by the journey hippies went through, from pot and LSD to speed and heroin, from a lack of religion to a tendency to follow a guru, a cult leader, or another authority, from peace and love to running away from the dark inside themselves and their experience.
I’ve always made fun of hippies. It’s kind of a pastime here in the bay area. Dare I say, part of my vitriol in that department has to do with the capitalistic tendencies even seen among the hippies here, the demanding self-righteousness. Mono makes a lovely button that says “stop practicing radical self-entitlement”, and I think that pretty much nails it.
Here in Berkeley, on Telegraph, we have a large number of middle class kids who live on the streets because it’s “cool” or something- kids who are ultimately supported by families who don’t know what else to do for their out-of-control kids. They’re usually a mixture of punk rockers and hippies, anti-establishment but still quite happy to live within that establishment. They’re happy to fight the cops on the right to possess their weed, but not much else.
Or there’s the hippies within the Burner community, people who will say “hey, man, all this should be shared, right?” but who are generally too stoned to do any real work. I find these people all the time, people who claim that they appreciate communal living but they never do the dishes… I usually joke that the issue with communes is that someone always steals the money- someone tends to feel they’re more equal than the others, and that’s when it tends to fall apart. That happens a lot in the Burner community, as much as it happened in the hippie movement.
But there are values within the hippie movement I can respect. I’m a big fan of self-indulgent navel-gazing, and finding context for our bias and experience. I firmly believe that one can use hallucinogenic drugs to learn more about themselves and their environment… though I also know, first hand, that not many people are really prepared to explore drugs responsibly, or as a shaman vs as a party-goer. And I believe in nonmonogamy, and shared property, and humour as a replacement for hardcore politics. I just also think these things often get taken out of context, used as an excuse to avoid dealing with internal or external turmoil.
Nonmonogamy was obviously quite common among hippies, because there was that whole concept of doing away with personal property. As people got more into the hippie subculture, there was also a desire to be rid of your Self, preferring instead to be part of some cosmic Whole, and thus why would you even try to stay with one partner? It’s interesting to me, though, that even within this culture of freedom, many people left to be within couples. I wonder if part of that is because you can try to enforce a new paradigm, but if you don’t offer a replacement, or a way to bridge between what is common now to the new ideal, you’ll have strife. You have to acknowledge jealousy, insecurity, and face it, in order to move beyond it, or even to live with it. I found it interesting that this documentary (one on History) suggests that the free love movement led to bad behaviors like divorce- I would think that’s a good behavior, not feeling stuck in a relationship you’re not happy in, feeling that your sexual and emotional satisfaction is as important if not more so than the “stability” of a family. But hey.
Anti-politics was also important to the hippie movement, which is something I find I go back and forth on. I don’t feel I have the freedom to be anti-politics, because politics are inevitable whenever you have people. I like a lot the concept that responsibility and political awareness can be fun, playful, satirical while still providing a sharp criticism- hence why I enjoy the tactics of the Space Hijackers in London, or the various flash mob groups here in San Francisco. I think you’ll help people get where you’re coming from more easily if you make them laugh rather than if you have a persuasive argument.
I appreciate and have benefitted from hallucinogenic drug use. It’s not something I indulge in often, and I generally sit with the drugs I’m about to take, prepare myself emotionally and mentally for the journey I’m about to take, tell both the drugs and myself that I’m prepared to face whatever comes out from the experience. I’ve had one scary trip, but it did teach me quite a bit about myself, my needs and fears, and my relationships, so I can’t say I regret it. Most of my experiences have been on shrooms, not LSD, though my one successful LSD trip was very playful and silly. I have to wonder how much LSD one must take in order to be that guy trying to peel himself in the corner- hell, I was still quite aware of myself and my surroundings, and I had been diagnosed with multiple mental illnesses over the years. I know I was nervous as someone diagnosed with bipolar that MDMA might have a negative depressive effect I’d never shake, or that hallucinogens would cause me to become psychotic, and I’d say that I’ve become more calm, self-aware, and emotionally intelligent after having explored drugs. If anything, I went crazy on Lithium, Zoloft and other medically recommended substances.
I guess on reflection I realized that I appreciate a lot of the values hippies held dear, but that the biggest issue I have with them (and those following in their footsteps now) is their naivety. The idea that peace and love will win over all ignores the fact that we are humans, and animals, and thus very unlikely to fully escape animal tendencies. It’s admirable to try to move beyond things like possessiveness, materialism, and escapism, and I strive towards that for myself.
Now, I know what the immediate question would be- as a sex worker, how can I really move beyond materialism? Fair enough. I don’t pretend I don’t live in a capitalistic patriarchy, where I *have* to earn money in order to support myself and live independently. For myself, I recognize that I use the system around me to try to minimize my participation in it- being an independent worker means that I get to define the terms of my work environment, and hell, when I do this work in the States, the fact I *can’t* pay taxes means whether I like it or not I am not giving my money to the government. I try to participate in veg boxes and buy food from independent companies, support women-focused sex shops for my supplies and use my talented friends for anything I need that they can provide, whether that be freecycling, skill shares or borrowing supplies. I’m ok with the idea of necessary evils, and I’m definitely not naïve.
So here I am, getting ready for Burning Man, thinking about hippies, and I have to say… while their voluntary ignorance and innocence and self-entitlement are childish and irritating, there are things to be learned from the idealism of the hippie movement, both as a sex worker who provides a nonmonogamous, non-judgmental outlet for people to explore their sexuality and emotions, and as a person who wants to be the best she can be.
Hipsters, though.
I still hate them.