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The Wandering WebWhore is my personal blog. I'm a 30-something indie pornographer whose journal covers a variety of topics: mundane daily life, work-related reflection, sex stuff, current events, and more. MY SITE FEED 
(outdated) F.A.Q.s About this blog OUR INDIE PORN SITES:  My Personal Porn Site  My Boyfriend's Site  My Girlfriend's Site  My Menstruation Site  All our sites combined. 
MORE JOURNALS & BLOGS: 
Excerpts from "The Wandering Webwhore" appear here: 
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AMATEUR PICPOSTS: Pics of hot blondes here! Pics of couples here! Pics of big tits here! Pics of nasty acts here!   Trixie's Friends    |
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
In Passing: Feminist Porn
Thanks to our friend Nerdy Anna for pointing out this post on Feministe about porn sparking a discussion about whether or not "feminist porn" exists, etc. Honestly? I only hastily skimmed the post and avoided taking a close look at the comments. Not because I don't think it's a worthwhile discussion. Not because I don't want to help "represent" the feminist pornographers of the world. But because for me right now, the most feminist thing I can do is make money and be free of debt, because paying credit card companies tons of interest is totally not feminist. With that being my focus I view reading and participating in these oft-irrational discussions as a big waste of my time. I was much MUCH happier reading the Feministe post on The Golden Girls which I, of course, agree with. WARNING: reading the following rambling may be a total waste of YOUR time, but it was highly therapeutic for me to write about it. I've got a number of drafted blog posts and of course plenty of thoughts about sex, feminism, porn, and all that "good" stuff (or bad stuff, depending on your perspective). But I'll take this opportunity to just briefly touch on a few of my positions and answer the question, in short form, of whether or not I think the porn *I* make is feminist. *Making money (and especially being self-employed, and especially making GOOD money, ESPECIALLY if it's better money than men are making and especially all of these things in THIS country and cultural context) is feminist. Even if you're making money on something that seems totally counterproductive to feminism. *The interesting thing -- the KEY thing -- is acknowledging that behaviors and products (and I use that term very loosely -- could be a piece of merchandise or the end result of certain behaviors or a speech or whatever) can be feminist in some ways, and not in others. You can do something that makes feminist progress in one area, but is regressive in another. That duality is intrinsic to the movement(s) and anybody who thinks it's possible to be and live and think and affect 100% feminist is fucking delusional. Because you can't control other people's reactions. Because sometimes making progress in one direction means distancing yourself from another point on your (or the group's) carefully mapped travel plans. Because everybody has something unique to contribute, and while they might excel in one area, they won't in another. THAT'S WHY WE NEED DIFFERENT WOMEN REPRESENTING DIFFERENTLY. Because it's not feminist at all to think we all want the same things, or to demand that we pursue the same things. Because it's humanly impossible to consistently put FEMINISM before yourself all the time. Because for some of us feminism means putting OURSELVES (specifically MYSELF or YOURSELF, in your case if you are a woman) first. Because life is just way more complex than "feminist" or "not feminist". Maybe it's like a big scavenger hunt. There are tons of things on our list, things we should have RIGHTS to. Maybe you go look for education. Maybe sister over there goes and looks for health care. Maybe another goes and looks for safety. I hope there's someone out there looking for reparations. MAYBE I WILL LOOK FOR THE MONEY. Maybe I will look for proof that my body is not YOUR body, and maybe you'll be fucking confused because you think that if I sell my body to a man that I'm violating YOURS. Maybe I will have time to hold your hand and we can find RATIONAL THOUGHT together, huh? Wouldn't that be nice. Maybe we'll all accept that we all have the right to anger, and that a lot of it is righteously directed at each other. Maybe you have no clue how often I advocate for some of the most unpopular feminist causes and rights while I am in some of the most hostile environments for doing so in the first world. Maybe you have no idea how much thicker the leather is on my militant boots than yours and your buddies, with your unproductive running-off-at-the-mouth. Maybe you underestimate how much more effective being feminist is on this platform than on yours. Maybe I love getting ALL. FIRED. UP! Maybe that's why I suppress my work on it so often. Because that fire comes close to incapacitating me with screaming. This is so not short or coherent the way I planned for it to be, but it's making ME feel better, and THAT is feminist. *Do I, Trixie, make feminist porn (if such a thing exists)? I do think feminist porn exists/is possible. I totally disagree with anyone who thinks it's a contradiction in terms. At the root of that mistaken belief is a huge double standard regarding PLEASURE, but that's a topic for another time. Many people would say, "yes, Trixie's porn is feminist". I personally would say that the the individual chunks of porn I/we make are only feminist sometimes. I will also say that I do not *want* all of the porn I make to be feminist. Because my sexuality and personality do not always cooperate with feminist ideals, nor do other people's. Because our fantasy worlds cannot and should not be bound by politics. Because sex as we experience it/feel it TRANSCENDS politics (even if it never transcends politics in reality). Because sometimes you specifically fantasize about un-feminist things because your ideals have created such intensely taboo triggers. Because it wouldn't be feminist to deny myself all of me. Because the most feminist thing I can do is MAKE MONEY and to represent myself as a feminist while I do it. The major way my work is feminist (outside of or next to the money-making arena) is that I consistently remind people who I belong to (MYSELF) in contexts where it is unexpected. My body belongs to me. I consistently assert my will, my self-ownership, even when it is counterproductive to making sales. My work as a whole is feminist because I REFUSE TO BE A NON-PERSON or a partial person or a person only part of the time. Anybody who looks at my work as a whole (or even/often just in small parts) can see that I REPRESENT MYSELF AS A WHOLE PERSON. To an extent that I think very VERY few people, men OR women, in ANY industry or from any walk of life, are willing to do or are allowed to do or know how to do or are brave enough to do or have risked as much to do. I AM A WHOLE PERSON, and my work in porn is contained within that and presented from that place of wholeness. Being a whole person and INSISTING UPON wholeness everywhere is awesomely feminist. Paradoxically it means that I cannot BE wholly feminist or affect in feminist ways all of the time. I could spend a lot of time describing what I mean by "a whole person", but I'll just clarify a little by saying I don't mean "perfect" or "finished" when I say "whole" On the contrary, I mean I am and deserve to be and insist upon staking my claim on IMperfection, meeting my primitive needs, fucking-up, growing sideways and in general pursuing happiness. You *can* make feminist progress in your own life and in others' by making art that is gender conscious, class conscious, and power conscious EVEN WHEN your representations of it are stereotyped and politically incorrect (sometimes BECAUSE they are, especially if they're totally campy and over-the-top). Especially when it acts as therapy and finds meaning/truth. And MOST especially when it's presented in a broader context that is overtly or even covertly political and/or built on a feminist foundation or told by a feminist voice (even when some of those stories and characters played are distinctly NOT feminist). I, presenting myself as a whole person, am the context. In everything I do. And I am feminist. That is the powerful truth in my life and work and someday I hope I'll be better at articulating it. Labels: ethics, feminism, gender issues, identity, politics, pop culture, PORNOGRAPHY, priorities, rants, spiritual issues 0 comments -  
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Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Golden Girls
When people make fun of The Golden Girls I always experience a wave of cognitive dissonance; they dismiss it as something "old" and irrelevantly feminine when I never did and WILL never perceive it that way at all. For me? The Golden Girls was a groundbreakingly progressive, hysterically funny, humanist show. Sitcom television at its very best next to a few others on my list: Laverne & Shirley, The Office, Married with Children and maybe a couple others. In terms of sitcoms having a major inspiring influence on me, The Golden Girls might actually be unparalleled (Laverne & Shirley would be a second, though). I watched this show with my grandparents and at the time didn't even realize how dirty, biting and often macabre the jokes were. I watch this show NOW and am amazed by how edgy it STILL is. To me, a pornographer. Suicide Girls? NOT edgy. Sex and the City? Not really edgy. Golden Girls? YOU CAN'T TOUCH THEIR EDGINESS! You can always count on Rose for some naively delivered bestiality stories or to be fucking a midget or a dead guy. One of The Golden Girls fucks a new guy in every episode, but not in that hyperfocused SATC way. I'm guessing people who mock The Golden Girls have never watched it. If so, the reasons they mock it are telling; it MUST be bad if it's about old people and ESPECIALLY bad if it's about old people who are WOMEN. I can't abide anyone who doesn't appreciate The Golden Girls or dismisses that show with a condescending chuckle. It's like a slap in the face from someone with really bad aim; it doesn't physically hurt, but it makes my blood boil. When we went to see Sex and the City the movie we all discussed which girl we are or which one other people think we're most like. And you know what? I'D RATHER BE A FUCKING GOLDEN GIRL. And I don't mean that as a huge dis to SATC, I really mean The Golden Girls are my idols. I believe that show was more proactively feminist than anything on network television. EVER. When I grow up? I want to be a Golden Girl. I can barely think of a higher aspiration. Anyway, Rest in peace, Estelle Getty. Labels: aging, death, feminism, gender issues, memories, pop culture, SEX, sociopolitical commentary, television 0 comments -
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Sunday, July 20, 2008
THINKING about Joining
Here's an email I got the other day from someone trying to decide whether or not to join my site: Hey, sexy, I am thinking about joining your site. How many nice videos do you have in there? Do you do any fart video?Out of all the emails I get that deserve responses, choosing to spend time replying to this one PROBABLY wasn't wise or fair, but I did write back to say this: Hi there! I don't have any fart videos (well actually I have one, but it's such a small and insignificant fart, it barely warrants mentioning). What I do have are spycams upon which patient voyeurs with audio enabled can sometimes hear me farting or even see me lifting my cheek to do so. No guarantees of when or how often or that you would catch it, though.It's not that I think his questions aren't legit, I'm just reluctant to hand out quantified guarantees of satisfaction to people who are reluctant to join without them since I doubt they will be happy with my site (especially in this case when I don't have content to make a die-hard fart fetishist happy, even though I probably have MORE to offer him than other non-fart-focused porn sites). Mostly I answer emails like this one because it's so freeing to be flip, especially when the person expects me to do everything I can to convince him to buy and I'm just not going to. It's so much easier to communicate with people I *know* I can't make happy than it is to write back to the people who really want to hear from me and whose opinions I genuinely care about. I feel guilty for it, but there it is. ***** I have a lot (even more than usual) of maintenance, (re)design, and promo work to do on a lot of our sites so that's where I'm focusing most of my computer time. We have an appointment with Delia's therapist on Tuesday to talk about coming out to her family about her transition so that will probably be our day off for the week since we have to traverse a few counties to get there/won't be home most of the day. Next week we've rented a room to shoot fancier photo sets with hosiery, etc. than we've been doing lately. I'm excited because the walls are PURPLE! You have no idea how much of my webwhore happiness depends on shooting in colorful locations. In the first two weeks of August we'll need to focus on shooting a lot, too, so we won't be posting galleries shot in the same exact place for two months straight. I have a couple of really exciting things to blog about but just wanted to post something quickly today to stay in touch and let you know where we're focusing. Twitter's been down a lot so I haven't been able to do it there reliably (and am worried Twitter's downtime is effecting the way our members see our members-only area since it won't load the rest of the page until it tries to load our tweets). I should redesign that, too, so twitter is the last thing to load, but it would so fuck up the balance. Sigh . . . I wish the twitter fuckers would monetize it already so they could afford to make it WORK. Labels: anxiety, customer relations, fans, fetishes, porn consumers, therapy, webwhore insights, work 0 comments -
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Friday, July 18, 2008
Visiting Family
We had a great visit with Delia's family. My sister and brother-in-law loaned us Mr. Squishypants (their two year-old son/our nephew) which makes socializing so much easier; he's beautiful, charming and a joy to be around. We had dinner together then went to a big park in Seattle and played until it got dark and we could see the full moon between the trees. At that point Delia's uncle, a slightly grizzled, mildly-boozy-from-dinner Iowa farmer, shook Mr. Squish's hand and solemnly looked him in they eye, saying he's a wonderful boy and hoped he'd see him again soon. Mr. Squishypants returned a firm chubby-fingered grip and nodded his own head in slow, somber agreement, his big blue eyes level as he said, "yeah". He says "yeah" a lot these days. He used to say "dick" or "dickle" when he meant "yes", but recently he replaced "dickle" with the standard "yeah". Anyway, it was moving seeing an expression on his little face that conveyed something like, "we served in the war together, buddy, and saw things we'll never speak of when we get home to our families, but I will never forget you. I'm glad I saved your life once, and you mine." It was like unexpectedly witnessing a secret handshake between two people you never would have guessed had met somewhere before or had a common bond. It just fucking amazes me how kids learn to communicate, not just with words, but by mimicking our nonverbal language. Sometimes by removing the knowledge of the meaning behind the language a kind of universal human truth is spoken. Mr. Squishypants and Delia's uncle shared a solemn moment full of mutual respect and human connection that transcended what was spoken and understood. They made a connection and I witnessed it (because I was holding him in my arms at the time so they were face to face), the way his angelic little face dipped as he bowed his head slightly to say, "yeah" and he blinked his eyes for only a moment, the rest of the time maintaining eye contact -- it was so full of intuitive wisdom. On one hand it makes you think about how little substance there is to our interactions, that it's all a meaningless charade we teach each other and find compelling when someone does a good job of acting it out. On the other hand it makes you wonder how much meaning is created in a big and powerful way by the emotional response we have to witnessing and performing these interactions. Like when we smile out of obligation even when we don't mean it and somehow we feel better inside for doing it. Yes, we're machines whose behavior can be shaped, but why dwell on our mundane construction when our experiences FEEL so profound? I can intellectualize it and scoff at it as simpleminded copycatting barely more advanced than tricks you can teach a dog, but watching my nephew shake hands or raise a glass to his fellows and say, "cheers!" or high five people or DANCE is like cuddling with divinity, whether such a thing exists or not. And have you ever noticed how much two year old bodies resemble monkeys? The way their legs and toes move. The way they bend at the waist. How can you avoid trusting, even if just for a moment, in both evolution and God when you see that? A little monkey with my grandma's face, my sister's face, his dad's face, even my face. Layers of the gift of immortality, or at least its illusion. ***** If I'm not pregnant, my period will probably start today. Also, here's another post over on Fertile(?)Trixie if you'd like to read about my paranoia regarding orgasms and implantation. Labels: family, full moon, immortality, relationships, spiritual issues, trying to conceive 0 comments -
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Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Family Time
We're heading out to Seattle in a bit to visit my family AND to hook up with some of Delia's family: a couple of cousins her age and her aunt and uncle visiting from the Midwest. It's going to be awkward: no one in her family is aware yet that she doesn't identify as male and is transitioning. She's going to be in drab, pretending to be a boy. Awkward. I would be more than happy to skip it except that I *really* love this particular aunt of hers (I actually really like her whole family; I haven't met these cousins yet, but I would honestly hang out with this aunt just for fun because I feel comfortable with her). We're also boarding our dog which is something we've not done the whole time we've been together. For awhile we had an excellent dog/housesitter but she moved to California and we've not found anyone we trust since. We just had to find someplace for her to stay on this overnighter because it's summer and we can't leave her in the car nor can we always foist her on my sister and brother-in-law with their own menagerie including two-year-old more than enough for their small house. Anyway, I hope the "pet resort" is fun for her and not stressful; we're paying extra for her to have a half-hour of supervised playtime with other dogs which could be a good thing or a bad thing. She deserves some fun, though. Time to get a move on . . . Delia has donned baseball cap, camo pants, and a Harley t-shirt to disguise her gender identity. It's kind of funny. KIND of. Labels: dog, family, gender issues, husky, my trans partner, relationships 0 comments -
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Friday, July 11, 2008
Oceanspray at Night
When I told Delia I wanted to take some pictures at night while the frothy white things were still in bloom, she explained to me that "those "blooming frothy things" are called oceanspray (Holodiscus discolor)". I adore it when she gives me the Latin names for plants. She went on to tell me, "they're a native shrub noted for their exceptionally hard wood. ;-) The local tribes used them for spearing fish and such." It was windy when we took the pictures so the blossoms are white blurs in many of the photos, but here is a small taste of what we were aiming for:  I love the way my white panties are gleaming! FYI: the light source is an overhead street light. We have a lot to learn and practice with night photography but I really enjoy making the attempts. We would go back and try again, but the flowers are all getting dry and brown; we really shot this set of pics on nearly the last possible night to get the white froth. There's always next year, though.  If you want a peek at something that encapsulates a lot of what's magical to me about black and white, nighttime, small towns, intimacy, and taboo, here's one of my favorite things from one of the most beautiful movies ever, To Kill a Mockingbird: As if the opening credits weren't enough gorgeousness, so much of the movie takes place at night. It's spooky and vulnerable and wondrous. That feeling of trees with treasures holes and dark houses with Boo Radleys and curious little people wandering around at night when they shouldn't, finding out sad, scary grown-up things . . . that is a feeling I love and something I would someday like for us to be good at capturing (but without the children, of course). It's why my Keds and panties and my limbs lit up are so captivating to me in these pictures. Why I love the debris on the path. I love the nighttime. I love woodsy places in drowsy neighborhoods. I love being outside and awake when everyone else is asleep. Or *trying* to fall asleep. Or getting fucked really loudly, which is what we heard one lady doing while we were shooting -- it was HOT BEYOND BELIEF!  I'll be posting the full set of pictures for members today. If you'd like to see them (and support us in our erotic endeavors as we learn more about low light and night photography) but you're not a member yet, you can JOIN HERE. As usual I have lots of thoughts and news swirling around in my head, waiting to be blogged about but without adequate focused time to do it. Thanks for staying interested and continuing to check in with me during my dry spells. Labels: inspiration, movies, night person, night photography, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, plants 0 comments -
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Sunday, July 06, 2008
In My Everyday Clothes
On my simple softcore porn photo shoot to-do list I've resolved to wear more REAL clothes. You know, stuff that can be (and is) worn in public: no stripper shoes, no Leg Avenue costumes, no fishnets.  I just posted this gallery last night with me wearing a bunch of things I love: my all-time favorite hoody with embroidered black flowers (I've been wearing that thing for about eight years), a t-shirt my sister loaned me the last time we went to the spa, a knit cap that actually belongs to Delia's ex-wife but has lived with us for years. I wore the pants in another shoot, but I love them so much and they're even softer now than they were then. They totally represent love to me because my sister bought them for me when she was out shopping. Buying pants for people is hard! I would never risk buying anyone a pair of pants, not even my sister, but she clothed me in soft, cozy legwear. This picture here makes me want to do a Rosie the Riveter style shoot (won't be any time soon though -- we don't have the time or money to pull off something that good/important to me right now, not to mention I need bigger muscles):  Anyway, I really love this set of pictures -- I think they're adorable and I look palpably fleshy and real.  ***** If you're curious how my insemination went, it wasn't so bad. This week I've got a lot of chat sessions scheduled for any members who want a chance to talk to me. I'm actually in our chatroom right now . . . alone. Which is why I was able to make this post! Think how easy it could be for you to have an awkward one-on-one conversation with me by becoming a member. You could be moving your moist hands back and forth from your genitals to the keyboard while you talk to me about music and toggle back and forth between the chatroom, my desk cam, and these photos without being able to explain the appeal because I totally don't even look sexy, at least not in a mainstream media or porno way.  Labels: beauty standards, body image, chat, natural boobs, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, PORNOGRAPHY, things I treasure, trying to conceive 2 comments -
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Thursday, July 03, 2008
"Born" on the 4th of July
We'd *planned* to take a real day off tomorrow, the 4th of July, but instead of that we have to take a buttcrack of dawn trip to Seattle to try to inseminate me. I hate to be an asshole, but I feel like crying because the LAST FUCKING THING I WANT TO DO on the Fourth of July is be on the road. IN THE MORNING. The tension I feel now seems really counterproductive to trying to conceive so I guess I need to try to do some deep breathing or something. I would feel better if I could take a run right now and blow off some steam, but I hurt my foot the other day walking in heels outside for a shoot. Well, actually I was just trying on outfits for a shoot and had to run outside to see what our dog was hell bent on wolfing down: a grenade sized piece of dehydrated poop or something, and my ankles buckled three times in the grass as I ran in my mules to discover that. Since then it's hurt to put weight on my left foot. Fucking hell. This is NOT the blog entry I would like to post for you, it's just what it is. If I do not get pregnant this time, somebody just take me out and shoot me. Are you going to tell me to go read _The Secret_ now? ;) Anyway, I had to cancel my shows on Saturday the 5th because we *might* wind up stuck in Seattle and I can't put on a good show anyway after this procedure. So maybe we'll make Saturday our day off. Sort of like normal people have weekends and holidays, only ours will be just one day. Of course, normal people don't get to schedule massages on the fly the way I did today just after lunchtime, so it's not like I'm saying I want to be normal or anything. Just bitching, that's all. Labels: announcements, anxiety, depression, dog, emotions, fears, trying to conceive 0 comments -
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Thursday, June 26, 2008
Pics with the New Camera
We finally got a new camera! It just arrived on Tuesday so today we shot our first nudey set with it. Here's one of my favorite, happy NON-nudey shots from that:  I'm extremely happy with it and hope to write a whole blog entry singing its praises and showing it off. Here's one I took last night:  ***** I should say that I can't BELIEVE it's been over a week since I made a blog entry here, but I actually CAN believe it. I feel it in my marrow, this neglect. I could whine and cry about how disgusting I've felt and how tired I've been but that kind of melodramatic pathos won't do anybody any good. Instead I'll just say that I've revamped my routine goals and schedules in such a way that I will be more productive and efficient. Basically instead of cycling through a long weekly routine to-do list, I've shortened my daily and weekly tasks and lengthened the monthly to-do list so I can group repetitive tasks in a lump to get weeks of them done ahead of time rather than trying to switch gears and never getting ahead by focusing on weekly cycles which barely give me a chance to half-assedly finish all my "chores" before the next week starts and I'm back on exactly the same treadmill; I've been depressed and overwhelmed feeling like I'm spinning my wheels so I really want to set work up so that I can get on a roll and STAY there for two to six days on one type of work at a time. Part of this switch began with me scheduling one hyperchat week per month and now I'm following through on that by making ALL of my work into lumpier monthly events. Speaking of lumpy monthly events, I did get my period/am not pregnant. I just finished up with that and my second Clomid prescription so in a week or so I should ovulate again. This time we are 90% sure we're going to the doctor for an intrauterine insemination instead of the homebrew fucking. Maybe bypassing my cervix will get this party started, but it will probably leave our spycam voyeurs high and dry since Delia will be storing up her spooge for the fertility doctors who will spin it and wash it and prep it for my uterus (a process that causes some sperm to be lost). Sounds pretty counterproductive, doesn't it? Perhaps, but many sperm are lost in the vag, too, never even getting past the cervix especially if one has "hostile cervical mucous" which really sounds like a very Trixie-esque condition. I haven't had my cervical mucous tested or anything, but it would not surprise me one bit if all of this disappointment could be blamed on my bitterly acidic cunt juices. Oh, we've tried tricks designed to improve the quality of my mucous and used products intended to bathe sperm in slippery stuff they can easily swim through, but to no avail so far. We really want to get this motherfucking show on the road. FOR REALS. ***** Tonight I'm going to try to get these new photos posted for members and maybe get some more exercise, too. My body is like a weird stranger to me these days, all thick and dimpled in both good and bad ways. I did some exercise along with the tv the other day called "slow-robics" and couldn't even make it the entire hour even with commercial breaks. After the midway mark I had to take a big ass break then come back to it for another ten minutes. There were tons of speed-skater-imitating squatting exercises that turned my thighs and buttocks into what felt like big soft balloons of swollen jello. I have only just regained the ability to lower my ass onto the toilet without screeching in agony and clutching at the wall for support on the way down. I guess this is what they call "thirty-five". On an intellectual level I know precisely how I've gotten to this point and exactly what I need to do to control at least some of the damage, but on another level I just can't believe this is my body. More to the point, I can't believe how different I am from when I was young. Again, on a rational level it all makes total sense and OF COURSE I'm different from my younger self, but it's not just my body that's different; I have changed in many ways and am maybe needing some time to adjust to my new identity and get to know who I am. All this dim-witted introspection might sound silly, like it should all be easy and come naturally and make total sense, but you make a lot of plans in life and develop a lot of habits based on your perception of your identity. When your values, needs, and abilities shift then you need to change your habits and plans. Being here in my mid-thirties is almost like losing a limb and needing to learn how to do everything with three of them instead of four. My balance is off and I feel justified in simplifying things. It's not that I feel handicapped by my age (except slightly in the body/porn department); on the contrary, I know I'm more skilled and capable. On the other hand, I'm less deluded and more aware of (and complacent about) my weaknesses. I'm more sure of what I want and what I do NOT want which is great, but it does make one's options seem more limited. I feel like I blew my ambition wad in my twenties, working really long and hard hours for other people. Proving myself to other people, making other people money, doing what other people wanted and tiring my damned self out. Now? I feel like I don't have much of that drive left, in part because I'm happy and content, but also because I'm just motherfucking tired of it. I don't like having to be resourceful to do my job; I want to have all of the tools I need to do my job well and it just exhausts me, mentally, physically and emotionally, having to pull everything together on a shoestring budget to attain mediocrity. It feels like a big waste of my time and I really REALLY want to spend more time with my family and I REALLY want to make better porn. A lot more time with my family AND a lot more porn. I think these are very normal, typical thirty-something feelings and part of me enjoys being in this stage of life. It's also embarrassing, though, because I feel like I should be able to muster up the energy to rectify this lack of resources. Sometimes it's empowering to know you control your own destiny and can CHANGE your situation just by hard work. Other times? It's just really depressing and tiring when you feel like you've DONE your hard work and you're way past due for the payoff. Everything feels like it hinges on how well I can mind-fuck myself into believing that I can, at the very least, double our income which is basically what we need to do and FAST to make continuing what we do justifiable. Of course, getting normal jobs is even less justifiable than continuing what we do full time simply because the only hope we have of paying off our debts is to win the lottery or work hard on our sites (since there's no limit to what we can make on them, unlike real jobs that have, ummm, limitations on wages and salaries and such, and are totally degrading and exhausting and enslaving compared to working for yourself on the internet). We don't play the lottery and I have no desire to quit what I do, so this is what we're going to keep on doing. Of course, my mind is always spinning with ways I can augment the porn site stuff and switch up our plans and find other revenue streams (aka pile even more jobs on myself) but the basic place I'm at is feeling like I've run a really long race and have no idea how far I am from the finish line. My body is falling apart and I'm beyond ready to slow my pace WAY down to falling flat on my face, preferably straight into a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy. But I just keep telling myself to keep trudging along even though I suspect when I round the bend there's just going to be another long-ass stretch of empty road. ***** It's almost 9 pm now so I'm not going to be able to get both exercise AND an update done. I'm feeling floppy after writing this and want to go to bed, but I'll try to get back in here to edit the photos because I know it will be fun and make me feel better. Then again, so would eating donuts and watching television. Labels: accomplishments, aging, anxiety, depression, emotions, family, health, husky, money, nature, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, priorities, trying to conceive, work 1 comments -
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Sunday, June 15, 2008
Boobs, Butt & Cock
Here are a couple photos from the new galleries I'm posting tonight for my members:   I can't say they're the best galleries I've ever posted, but they have a few redeeming qualities. I also posted the third gallery in a series of snapshots from my non-porn life ranging from my late teens through my married year Anyway, you can JOIN if you're not a member yet but want to see the pics. Otherwise here's another (in)Fertile Trixie post about post-orgasm cramps and our two week wait. ***** If you were spying on me earlier and saw me crying, that happened because I was looking at pictures of my devastatingly beautiful and amazingly cute almost-two year-old nephew and listening to a song called "Miles From The Lightning" by Jeffrey Foucault. I feel the need to pray, weep and laugh myself into exhaustion. Labels: natural boobs, PHOTOS 0 comments -
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Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Friends!
I'm feeling really blessed to have good friends that I love after spending a few days totally spoiled with good company: Kris Madison and Amberlily drove all the way out to our remote locale so we could have a Sex and the City slumber party (Amberlily's fun idea). Seeing the movie was entertaining, but the best part was just spending time together and having the chance to talk. Half the time we were off cam (in other rooms or out of the house) or had the audio off so we could speak freely, so it might not have been a big treat for the voyeurs, but for ME? It was heavenly. I actually feel *rejuvinated*. We did spend a lot of last night in bed talking (with the audio *on*) which was probably pretty entertaining for voyeurs to listen to (or not, depending on their perspectives); we had insanely heated arguments (I almost lost my voice/damaged my own hearing with my own high pitched protestations) about really inconsequential shit (which is the best kind of thing to debate). Does Holly Madison "deserve" better than Hugh Hefner who tells her she's not photogenic enough to be a centerfold? Do Tim Harrington's (of Les Savy Fav) performances insult/make fun of his audiences or are they a layered casserole of joy? Those two questions, their characters' milieus, and the surrounding issues were the basis of HOURS of delightful discussions. And there were brownies. We are lucky to have such good friends. ***** HERE is the latest on our babymaking project: One Down, One to Go. ***** For once I don't feel like I need a day off to recuperate after socializing (just a little catch-up on sleep), so before bed tonight I'm going to try to plan a couple of good shoots for tomorrow and get them out to my members as soon as possible. Labels: beauty standards, celebrity, friends, music, pop culture, relationships, spycams, television 2 comments -
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Sunday, June 08, 2008
If you didn't believe me . . .
Just in case you didn't believe that my weight gain is a real thing with an impact on my health, here's a photo of my face last month telling the tale:  I do not even look like myself in that picture. I actually think I look cute in it, but like someone else. Oh yeah, I *recognize* that it *is* me, but she's like an alter ego of some sort, like I was transformed overnight (which of course is ridiculous since it's taken me awhile to get there) or am experiencing a Freaky Friday scenario where I'm magically switching places with my chubby twin sister. That is the biggest and SOFTEST I've been in my entire life and the second time I've weighed that much (around 130, 132 pounds). I am back to 125 and those five pounds make an enormous difference in the number of chins I have (and if I lost only ten pounds now I'd be at a very good place). At the time of that photo my period was severely overdue, not because of pregnancy but because I didn't ovulate which I'm certain is because of how overweight I was. I know 130 pounds doesn't sound enormous considering how much fatter people are capable of getting, but for my frame that is just really WAY too much. With my hormones totally out of wack and the stress and pressure of our plans to get pregnant being delayed and feeling out of control, all I wanted to do was eat. Carbs. Lots of them. It's a vicious circle. Once my period finally started last month I stopped having my usual two teaspoons of sugar in my morning tea, stopped eating candy (except some dark chocolate here and there), and have been exercising more. I feel better, but still have a major energy dive in the afternoon/early evening and have been napping almost every day; it's only 30-60 minutes, but I feel enormously guilty about it for some reason. I don't know if I'm just stressed out, tired from exercising, fat and lazy, or have some internal voice ordering me to focus on a very few things. It is (and has been for the past nine months or so) very difficult for me to focus on anything besides our conception attempts. It sounds stupid, since if I were really focusing I should have been exercising more and eating better, but my main priority has been to try not to stress out my mind or body. All I have wanted to do was try to be patient, calm, and relaxed and honestly? Accomplishing that takes all of my energy, I think. And lots of food and lazing around. It should come as no surprise that I have not felt great about shooting photos and videos of myself. Part of it is self-consciousness about my weight, but another part might also be me feeling a need to keep some of me to myself. Trying and failing to get pregnant over and over makes me feel like there's a demand being placed on my body that I keep failing to meet in spite of the many different adjustments and approaches and changes we make to get it done. I already feel like I'm asking enough of my body, forcing it to get fucked on a schedule, to tell me what it's thinking, to subject it to tests, to tell it to work harder and be "healthy". Other than that, I really just want to put it in a cocoon of blankets and comfortable clothes and to try to let my mind escape. I want to protect myself, my mind AND body, from more opportunities for failure. There are a few other factors contributing to my state of mind, including missing my girly birth control hormones, my ADD and hypersensitivity to stimuli (I am fucking exhausted from processing so much information and trying to tune things out; I have not been able to concentrate at all on blogging or anything), stress/guilt over an argument I had with my mom in March, MISSING my nephew and longing to live closer to my family, and the way all these things work together to make me feel, I suppose, a little depressed. I'm not particularly worried about it in the short term, but if I allow myself to fret about how long this trying-to-conceive business could go on I do get anxious and concerned about, ummm, my mental and emotional health. I guess my main priorities right now are making my body healthier and focusing on transcending daily worries to get to a place where it's all good, whether it's in a nap, brushing the dog, dancing, reading a book, writing for myself, daydreaming about things that make me happy, visualizing the positive possibilities, drowning myself in mindless entertainment, researching stuff I want to know for future and current projects, listening to cheesy new age music, smelling good things and enjoying sensual (but nonsexual) pleasures like massage, or processing these thoughts and reflecting on my needs the way I am right now by writing this. I feel better having done it. But I still don't feel like shooting porn. Not today, anyway. And of course this makes me feel slack and guilty which only deepens my mini-depression. I would like to be more productive and intellectually have a hard time allowing myself a break; part of me says if I were a better person I would just WORK HARDER. Still, I know that once we do get pregnant, if we do, there will be a whole new set of demands on my body so maybe it's okay for me to just SURVIVE right now. NOTE TO MEMBERS: I'm not saying that I'm ceasing shooting, just that updates are coming a little slower than I'd like and don't have as much tastiness as usual. I'm sure we will shoot soon, especially since I'm no longer quite as pudgy as in the above photo. Oh, and another uninspiring factor in all of this is that we really need a better camera; I bought this one in 2002 and it's really not up to par anymore and has some problems. Not so fun to shoot with and the results are less than stellar. Labels: anxiety, attention deficit disorder, customer relations, depression, emotions, escapism, family, relationships, trying to conceive, webwhore insights, work 6 comments -
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Friday, June 06, 2008
Connie Francis Sings the All Time International Hits
When I was little I used to play a particular Connie Francis album (like, an actual vinyl record; they had those when I was growing up) over and over again which I've not been able to find, nor can I found on cd most of the songs that were on it which BREAKS my heart. But OH, youtube, you have allowed me to hear these songs again: "What Now, My Love? (ET MAINTENANT) I wish I could find a picture of the album cover because I *worshiped* her (along with the "Whipped Cream and Other Delights" girl). Just one picture of Connie Francis, a column of majestic, sensual, unsmiling beauty. Name one contemporary pop singer who holds a CANDLE to this woman! Oh my god. And her presentation: women are not admired anymore for being regal and occupying an ageless space that doesn't smack of jailbait. Wait! The photo from the album is displayed in the 25th second of this one (wish it was in color like on the album; her dress was pink): "And I Love Him" The muted trumpet in here drives me MAD with its ballsy drama: "Miserlou" I desperately wish this guy posted all of the songs, because there are some great ones missing. Still, I'm so jazzed to hear that voice singing these songs again. I know I LEARNED things from listening to that album, from listening to her and looking at that photograph of her. Oh dear, here's another one that EXCITED me: Oooh, I found the picture even if it is undersized:  Swoon! Sigh . . . Labels: beauty standards, Connie Francis, education, gender issues, memories, music, pop culture, TURN ONS, vinyl 0 comments -
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