Because funding for more/better education is always good, and England really needs help getting their shit together with safer sex awareness!

www.walkforlife.co.uk/public_...ship.php

Photo: French AIDS posters. They're weird, and, well, wrong. I don't know anyone who got HIV or AIDS from having sex with a scorpion.

I finally figured out how to publish Blogger entires at LJ, thanks to Lexi's Lounge's post on the topic. Hurray! My blog entries on Blogger will now feed directly into my sex work filter on LJ, thus making it easier for those of you who read LJ and can't be bothered scrambling around for another blog. Goddess knows I wouldn't. ;)

So C and I have a toy chest, in which I put all of the sex and BDSM toys. Some of the toys I have as sex toys may seem more like kinky toys to you all, but I'm basically splitting it into "things that are likely to get genitalia juice on it" and "things that are less likely to do so". I, being a Capricorn and probably a little over-zealous when I feel like organizing something, decided it was time to go through the chest and sort it out again. I do this every once in a while, but this time, I made a toy list for my sex toys for easy referencing. As it's all written on a piece of paper that may or may not disappear into the chest, I decided to type it out here. Who knows? You might see something you're curious about, or something new.

So, without further ado:

The Sex Toy List

Dildos, large-
-Grim Reaper
-pink thick
-inflatable, medium size
-Nexus double dildo, medium

Dildos, regular-
-light pink
-light pink g curve
-black thick
-black thinner
-red beginners
-purple medium

Anal Toys-
-gemstone metal plug, rainbow medium
-gemstone metal plug, pink large
-silicone anal beads, small
-silicone anal beads, medium
-p-spot plug, medium
-blue plug, medium/large
-baby Jesus plug

Vibrators-
-Ideal vibe
-vibrating eggs, 4
-USB egg with extra bits
-penetrative vibe, blue medium
-penetrative vibe, pink large
-magic finger vibe
-waterproof travel vibe
-mini bullets, 2, with extra bits
-rock chick
-kegel balls, silicone
-kegel balls, metal, 4
-clit pump with vibe

Safer Sex/Playful Sex-
-huge variety of condoms
-assorted lubes- glycerin free, tingling, organic, silicone, water based
-Flower Balm
-black latex gloves
-regular latex gloves
-blue nitrite gloves
-Good Vibes wipes
-edible body paint
-toy cleaner
-massage lotion and oil
-Tickle Her Pink gel

Assorted-
-speculum
-leather strap on harness
-packing dildo
-cock rings- rubber and metal
-gates of Hell, leather
-inflatable ball gag with 6" dildo on other side, rubber

Things that are conspicuously missing-
-dental dams
-a Rabbit of some sort
-smaller butt plugs
-glass toys
-another harness

So there you go- that's what I have in my sex toy section of the chest- stay tuned for the kinky toys side!

-

So I've promised this entry for a little while and never quite gotten around to it. This could be in part because it's so confusing for me that I don't know how to start without sounding like a complete dumbass. But here we go.

I'm a girl. I was brought up with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and My Little Ponies, ballet and karate classes, a little bit of pink and a little bit of blue. My family doesn't subscribe really to a gender being any particular way, so I was never told "girls don't do _____". I wore jeans and dresses (more often jeans cause I ran around a lot). I never really thought too much about makeup til I was Goth, and then, everyone wore eyeliner. And I never really considered myself "sexy" per se- I wore granny panties and baggy clothes, because I was a fat girl and didn't want people to see my body.

But then, as I got older, the more I read about gender, the more confused I got. It wasn't (and isn't) generally upsetting to me- I mean, I'm comfortable having a female body, for example, which is one of the big hurdles of gender discovery. I thought for a long time I was femme, perhaps female to femme- I love dressing up, frills, makeup, really drag-queen stuff in general. I loved the look of femme, all curves and ferocity and glitter and grit. I couldn't walk in heels, sure, but I didn't feel like that necessarily made me less femme- I could pick and choose what I wanted my femininity to be, how I wanted to be femme.

Still, I felt and feel out of place in the femme world. I feel, often, like I'm not quite doing it right, like I'm not exactly femme. I try to be aware of how I move through the world, try to claim space as a femme, try to get that look and feeling I admire, but it feels almost forced. I just can't quite get it.

Then I read "Butch is a Noun" by S. Bear Bergman, and I felt a pull there, too. I wanted so badly to be a butch, to be able to light the cigarettes and open the doors for femmes and be loved for that butch energy I carry. I want to be able to sweep a femme up in my arms and whisk them around the dance floor, looking dashing in a suit and spats.

Or do I? I think about it, I step out of the world of reading and I feel like I'm under a glaring spotlight, one that says "how dare you imagine yourself as butch when you have high heeled boots and corsets in your closet!" And I feel even more lost.

I'm jealous when Bergman talks about having older people to talk to about being butch. Maybe I'm missing it, but I don't know where or if that dynamic of teaching and coaching exists within the queer community anymore. I would love to talk to 50 year old femmes and butches and explain these feelings and see what they'd say, if they could guide me. I often feel quite alone in this struggle. How do you explain that you feel like you were born in the right body but with no real clue as to how you gender?

I remember seeing Miss Vera's Finishing School for Boys Who Want to be Girls, and thinking "yeah, that's what I need. I need a class to help me attain this femmeness I have inside but just can't manage to get my body to cooperate with". Which is why I tend to say I gender as a drag queen- I feel often more like a bisexual male in a woman's body and loving it than I do with any of the conventional options. But I also feel frustrated, often, like I have this femme fatale inside me that wants out, and I also have this butch inside me begging for a chance to see the light, and I keep stuffing them all inside and saying "look, will you just make up your minds so I can move on already?"

The more I think about my gender, the more I feel torn, confused, unsure. And there's a voice in me that says "oh really, Kitty, c'mon- is it that hard? You have a pussy. You like being fucked. Who cares how you gender?"

I care. It matters, for some reason, to me. I feel like I carry too much masculine energy to be a femme, and yet my body is too curvy and feminine to be butch. I love my hourglass figure, don't get me wrong, but it bothers me somehow that when I explain to someone this struggle I feel they laugh and say "You? You're femme, it's obvious". And when they say femme, they mean "you're a female, and you look feminine, so what's the big deal?"

Is it? I feel like while my body says "feminine", my brain is screaming out that it's so much more complicated than that. And I'm desperate for it all to be taken seriously. I feel like I'm on the fence, living in the slash between butch and femme, and sure, I could say I'm something else, and maybe I am, but these resounding feelings I get about both mean something, and I just don't know what.

When I hear a whimper on the end of a phone line.

When I see a flash of pale skin, right above the knee, underneath a skirt.

The way hair curls from the nape of a neck, or the way her breasts move when she laughs, or the way he lightly but firmly grips the handle of a door.

I think of knives.

It's one of the unsafest sexes around, this taste for blood and blades. Maybe that's why I like it. In a world where latex is sexy and sex to breed is taboo, I like the things that are raw and feral. There's always this little whisper in me that says "push a little harder, a little deeper".

If you bare your belly to me, I will be wet and hungry.

I had a dream last night, you see. I had met a girl in a bar, and she had told me she liked rough play (and, well, in a dream, I don't have to ask consent). I pulled her outside and kissed her roughly, her back pressed against the cold brick of the bar. I told her to follow me, and we ducked into an alleyway, where I told her to get on her knees and suck my clit, one hand in her hair, one hand on my blade that I held to her throat to keep her "inspired".

I awoke with a hand in my panties.

Sometimes, this desire just slips out. In a sexy phone call, I'll press a blade against the throat of the man as I force my strap on into his throat. I slice a crossdresser's fishnets from hir legs. I feel clumsy afterwards, apologetic- I've let my fierce lust escape its cage, so sorry, won't happen again.

But my eyes flash like the sharpest edge. I will never forgive my body for not giving me claws. I want to draw blood when I cum. I want to drink screams like the sweetest honey. It soothes my soul, quiets the beast within.

One day... I will have a lover who will welcome me beneath her skin.

One day.