Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Over and Out
Some of you've been wondering how our family get-together with my brother went after my agonizing in this post
; fortunately, it went fine but I'm still so glad it's OVER so I can stop stressing out over it.
We made the trek out to my mom's yesterday and had a fairly nice visit. Sometimes I worry that Delia
's just receding into the background and that some of that's my fault, but then it always seems that one person in a couple is the quiet hanger-back. Like my brother's wife who mostly hung out in the kitchen. Some people are so quiet and pleasant those of us who are more obnoxious just naturally steamroll them.
Anyway, there was no mean-spirited or overt bullshit to be had towards us, though I did wonder when thank you's for the presents we brought came from the kids and I got all the hugs and thanks why that was . . . because I'm the one who's actually related to them (though haven't seen them in eight years, since one was newborn)? Because Delia's trans? Because I didn't do a good job of introducing Auntie Delia? Or just because I was the one standing there with open arms, like "HUG YOUR AUNTIE, DAMMIT!" while Delia was behind me on the couch and less accessible/approachable/talkative? And then that firm handshake my brother gave Delia after hugging me goodbye seemed to have an awkward masculine edge to it, but whatever.
On our way home from our family visit we got together briefly with AmberLily
and her husband (Tiny aka BigD) who is too witty and well-read for me to get his jokes which mostly seem to consist of teasing us for being Democrats. They go right over my head and I wind up staring at him, completely bewildered, wishing I could keep up. Fortunately he's nice enough to try to meet in the middle, patiently reminding me, for example, of my Third Amendment rights (so I could understand the joke he was making) even when I obtusely ignored his explanation. Maybe if we got to spend more time hanging out then AmberLily wouldn't have to try to translate for us, "and now BigD is joking; that was a reference to the obscure blank and blankety blank."
Anyway, I hope I haven't gotten them banned from their local McDonald's because I kept saying the "F" word and loudly talking about wet WET pussy, something I'm far more familiar with than our Constitution.
My point is, I love them and BigD should be an internet celebrity.
Normally when we go back to the area east of Seattle where I grew up I'm thankful we don't live there, but yesterday the summer air was too seductive and familiar for me to not want to have more of it. It smelled heavily of home, especially driving through shady places along rivers. My mom's yard felt so lush and green and bushy and the porch was so . . . porchy? With the screen door? Our dog looked like she was going to melt right into the cool grass, unlike here where all the grass is dry, short, and totally dead. It smells like saltwater and high wind and dry things where we live, but where I grew up it smells like a humid valley in the summer where every dog bark is magnified - sounds don't blow away where I grew up. I hate that, but it's still home.
Little cell phone pic on our way home
Delia's putting the finishing touches on the letter she's writing to her parents who still don't know she's trans.
Labels: family, friends, nature, Pacific Northwest, Seattle
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Today we went to a protest against civil rights abuses and I realized THAT'S THE FIRST ORGANIZED PROTEST I'VE EVER ATTENDED! Which seems nuts, that as a thirty-six year old woman who is opposed to SO many things and has lived near Seattle my whole life, I have never been out in the streets with my floppy tits wrapped loosely in a shredded flag, armpit hair fluttering in the breeze as I pump my fist shouting a determined message even as I'm hoisted over the bulky shoulder of an armed man in riot gear.
Sorry to disappoint, but today was nothing like that.
Still, it was important and I'm glad we went. I'd love to be more specific and share the details with most everyone but as my webwhoring years have added up I've realized that sometimes I need to withhold some information for the sake of privacy and safety. What I will say, though, is it isn't connected to porn or sex work which in a way is sad because I'd like to be a better activist when it comes to civil rights issues related to the sex industry. This, though, is more local and I feel like I can more safely make a difference by being involved in it which is not something I can do locally (meeting up with people face-to-face) as a webwhore.Delia
actually sat this one out in the car because she has a soul-patch-like burn on her chin from her first overzealous laser hair removal treatment (she's been going through the process for years now and this is the first time she's gotten burned like that) and she didn't want to be out in the sun. This left me open to being approached by a cute ewok-looking fellow with a jaunty chipped front tooth who appeared to be about seven to ten years my junior. I almost told him I have a girlfriend, but then decided if he really was "interested" maybe it would lure him into getting involved. See, deep freckled cleavage can really win support for a cause. And I like bearded little roly poly guys.
I was actually a little concerned about the location of this protest because it's right next to an ultra-conservative hangout but they didn't come streaming out to scare us away or even mount a counter-protest. Instead I only saw about three people give us the thumbs-down and everybody else who responded as they drove by seemed happy to see us and honked, waved, hollered, etc. in support. That's a good feeling, but scary knowing this shit is going on even with so much outspoken criticism.
The past few days have been pretty windy here (I could barely hang onto my sign today) so it wasn't a big surprise when we lost power for a few seconds tonight. Could throw a monkey wrench into our spycam transmissions and Delia's update which she's trying to get uploaded and posted tonight, though. After the protest we had to drive all the way back to suburban hell to have them remove the inky security tag on a pair of jeans Delia bought on Thursday that they forgot to remove. Sometimes living so far from a real city is inconvenient. And sometimes it's just kind of scary (see above: there is some bullshit that wouldn't be tolerated in Seattle but in rural and small-town areas it's commonplace). But of course so is living near or IN a city, just for different reasons.
Labels: accomplishments, flirting, Pacific Northwest, politics, privacy, Seattle, values
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Tranquil Gardens (PICS)
We went to Seattle but my sister didn't go into labor so we came home again. It was great to see them though, especially my number one nephew, Mr. Squishypants who's almost three now. We all went to the Japanese Garden at the Arboretum
, a place I've always wanted to revisit ever since an annoying trip we took there when I was a teenager. I wanted to return and have everything be tranquil. IT WAS!!
One of the things I miss most about living in Tacoma is walking to the Conservatory
and just sitting in there soaking in good, moist air and beauty. If we lived in Seattle I would probably hang out at the Japanese Garden for hours and hours every week. It's fucking therapy, man. It kind of boggles my mind that there are beautiful places -- gardens like these or woods like the Hoh rainforest
(yes, I should totally do a WebHOH shoot) -- and people don't go, LET'S KEEP/MAKE EVERYTHING THIS LEVEL OF AWESOMELY BEAUTIFUL!!
. And I'm not saying everything has to be totally pristine and "natural" to be beautifully awesome; we were impressed by Harborside Park
at the Bremerton ferry terminal next to the shipyards (also beautiful, to me).
If I were to cultivate my own garden, it would be a moss and fern garden. I love how primitive they are. They totally feel like home to me.
After taking a bunch of pictures at the garden and looking at them here at home, I realized I'm doing a terrible job of paying attention to my horizon line or just making sure the subject of my photos aren't accidentally slightly slanted; most of my pictures look a little crooked. I don't know if other people would notice it, especially when there's so much stuff in the pictures, but taking non-porn pictures is always a good (and relaxing) learning experience. I wonder if it's because I'm still not used to our bigger, heavier camera? Using the viewfinder? I don't know, but I'm going to try to pay better attention to that.
Labels: beauty standards, nature, Pacific Northwest, photography, PHOTOS, Seattle
Monday, May 04, 2009
May the Fourth Be With You!
told me today's Star Wars Day so I thought I better post something. About how my own life force has been idling; maybe my new estrogen-heavy birth control pill is making it so it takes ten hours to wake up and all I want to do is gobble up food. MAYBE. Or maybe I'm just a Very Sleepy Lard Ass.
Anyway, everything is sort of on hold here while we wait for my sister to go into labor. Due to our far-flung location on the Olympic Peninsula and our usual route to Seattle being severed by a major bridge being closed for six weeks, I've been really anxious about how we'll manage to get to Seattle in time to see our second nephew being born. I'm finally calming down about it now, but I did go on a late-night rampage through our town channeling my mother as I stood on the dock screaming, "ALL I WANT IS A FUCKING FERRY SCHEDULE!! GODDAMN IT I HATE THIS FUCKING TOWN!!"
Okay, I didn't really do that, but I totally WANTED to, which made me start laughing hysterically in the same exact way my mom does after she's loudly expressed her feelings in a public place, much to the shock and awe of all spectators. Sometimes people in this town are helpful in every single annoying way they possibly can be without being at all capable of delivering the one thing you do want. Yes, I fucking KNOW the ferry schedule is online. Actually we CAN get to Bremerton with the bridge being closed, it will just take longer (you may be older than I am, lady, but have you ever looked at a fucking MAP?). No, I do NOT want your six-month-old schedule nor do I want to call the Department of Transportation for the schedule. I want the fucking fold-out piece of paper that does not require speaking to anybody or having an internet connection.
Ferry schedules are one of those types of items that are always littering your cars and house when you don't need them but are impossible to locate when you do. And the people in this town are lovely, they just really drive me batshit sometimes. I don't feel the need to reach a group consensus with strangers on the best way to get to Seattle. I can still see the tortured looks on three people's faces as they begged me to stay at the quickie-mart so they could offer their useless advice on guiding me to the right ferry even as I told them they couldn't possibly help me unless they know the exact time my sister is going into labor. Because there are at least five different routes we could take that are all dependent on what day of the week and time of day we leave and whether or not the wind is blowing hard enough to knock out the closest ferry.
Okay. I promise to stop ranting about this to every/anyone who will listen (unless someone has the audacity to try to make a travel suggestion to me in the comments; if that happens, I will recommence ranting). I've procured the schedule (which totally conflicts with the information online) and the only thing we can do now is wait. Or leave early and be stuck there for days since watched pots never boil.
I have a sneaking suspicion my gigantic hunger, lethargy, and the mild cramps I've had all week will go away as soon as my sister delivers. Until then I've been spending more time off cam than I usually do, hiding in our "secret" rooms, getting some private time before we have sleepless hours of family time that includes watching my little sister go through immense physical trauma and then experiencing the amazingly beautiful emotional wreckage that goes along with welcoming a new member of the family into the world.
Or maybe I just need to readjust my sleep and work schedule and give in to my night-owl tendencies. Sometimes I'm able to behave normally, sometimes not. Could be a seasonal thing. Or allergies. Or that I'm just insane in the membrane. Or all of the above.
As usual, I've got more interesting (to you) posts to make and pictures to share, but I wanted to spit out the quick and dirty daily details before going to bed. More of them here on DailyTrixie
Labels: family, food, mundane, Pacific Northwest, rants, Seattle
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
Almost Out the Door
We're getting ready to spend a couple of nights shooting in one of our favorite local places so our spycams at home will be mostly-dead except when we come home to let the dog out, pick up things we forgot, etc.
I made an appointment for next week to make my hair blonde FOR REAL and this time I will leave no room for any misinterpretation. EVERY SINGLE STRAND OF HAIR ON MY HEAD MUST BE BLONDE. Not all the same shade, but all unambiguously blonde.
The week after that we're going to be gone for four days traveling, shooting, seeing Delia
's doctor, and maybe taking a day off for ourselves, too. We're only making plans to see one person while we're gone, someone we're shooting with/haven't shot with before. I have a hard time balancing socializing, shooting, and staying sane so usually I sacrifice the socializing when I know I can't handle it all. I honestly do not understand how other people are able to squeeze in so much time with other people. It's beyond me, but still I hate all the missed opportunities to see people we like/love.
I'm reserving my scanty social juices for two things over the next six weeks or so: spending time with AmberLily and BigD before they move away from us
, and spending time with family when my second nephew is born next month (during an extremely inopportune time; the H00d Canal Bridg3 will be closed, severing our most direct route to Seattle.
Between that and the usual stuff, I'll try to post more interesting blog entries. For really real!
Labels: announcements, family, friends, mundane, Pacific Northwest, Seattle, travel, work
Sunday, March 08, 2009
If my "porn" were standing before the judges on American Idol, Simon would totally call it self-indulgent nonsense. Like shooting almost entirely non-nude sets of pictures with a ren-fairish flavor just because I REALLY LIKE WEARING LONG VELVET DRESSES AND THIS IS MY FAVORITE NECKLACE AND I LIKE PRANCING AROUND IN THE FOREST!! From my latest members-only update:
Most people don't "get" non-nude or softcore porn, and I do think there's a bigger market for straightforward explicit hardcore sex (and I myself prefer to masturbate to fairly explicit, genital-oriented content, though not the generic kind), but make no mistake . . . there's definitely a market for the soft stuff. I'm not sure, but I'm *guessing* that its appeal diminishes the older the model gets, but I could be wrong. I *hope* I'm wrong. Because I will proceed as though I *am* wrong about that. Because I'm totally a self-indulgent softcore kind of lady. Well, not totally
. Which is what makes my site difficult to categorize since I love hardcore stuff, too.
Running a personality site means I'm selling myself -- intimate access to WHO I am -- as much as jack-off material (which is everywhere nowadays for free), but maintaining a balance can be a challenge particularly since the balance other people want to see really varies. There are a lot of people who think the porno stuff is boring and others who think the "self-indulgent" softcore/personally revealing stuff is boring. I don't get that information from my own members (who I guess usually know it's futile/counter-productive to complain about what I do/don't do), but from surfing around and reading the variety of opinions/assumptions on this matter. I gave up on trying to please "everybody" a long time ago, but still feel self-conscious sometimes KNOWING that people will look at some of what I put out there, particularly something they paid for, and will be dissatisfied. Even when you know you can't please everybody, you still feel crappy sometimes that you can't. That you know someone will be distinctly UNhappy because you're older, because you're too nasty, because you're not nasty enough, because you're shaved, because you're hairy, because you're too quiet or not quiet enough. It's a constant challenge to silence that chatter in your head of what other people might be thinking and listen only to what you yourself want and think. But when I do, I hear that I want more cheap, stretchy, crushed-velvet dresses from the thrift store. I want more of the scenery I love that is home to me. I want more cleavage and swooning and vulgar meaty thighs.
I like being suggestive without fully delivering. I wonder how much of that's a (mostly) chick thing -- enjoying having a scene set and characters drawn and then using your own imagination to fill in the blanks to your own liking whereas (most) men want all of the blanks filled in for them in explicit, glossy detail. I have actually been thinking about duplicating and reformatting the way I present some of my softcore picture sets in order to fill in some of those blanks, or ramp up to the nudity in a way that makes it feel more like a money shot once you get to it, but I'm not sure I'll ever have time for that project. I think it would be very effective, though.
Lately I feel a little tempted to stop updating my site as frequently and focus more on marketing Delia's site
. Financially, that would make a lot of sense, but I don't want to do that. The fact that Delia's site significantly outsells mine does free me up to think of her site as the bread and butter that allows me to totally fuck around on mine and do whatever I want without worrying that we'll lose our main source of income when I alienate all of my members. Not that this would happen, but the appeal of Delia's site compared to mine does give me a sense of freedom that it's not all about me. It doesn't all rely upon me. That's a huge relief that allows me to end these annoying trains of insecure thought on a positive note and go back to indulging in my own flights of fancy. In the forest! Twirling around in a long dress! Wearing a gypsy necklace with amethysts! And what more do people want than my boobies, anyway?
Labels: aging, customer relations, fears, gender issues, identity, nature, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, Seattle, things I treasure, TURN ONS, webwhore insights, work
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Twin Peaks I: The River (PICS)
Here's the "Twin Peaks Sign Spot
" where we hoped to get some flashing pictures:
Unfortunately a variety of circumstances conspired against us. Like how I forgot that things have changed a lot since I was a teenager from two towns over driving around the area; now there are thousands of yuppies crawling around in and out of their weird, flimsy, housing development hives. There was TRAFFIC and stuff, even before school/work got out during the middle of the day in the middle of the week. Like how the sun was shining so it sort of ruined the mood, as far as I'm concerned, of capturing the Twin Peaks feeling of that particular shot - I think we'd have had to wake up really early and get out there right when everyone would have been driving to work to have gotten the right light.
There were also work crews out in a lot of places tending to damage done by the flooding. We wound up shooting on the riverbank further down the road and getting there was like walking through the sand into a weird post-war scene sort of like after Mount St. Helens exploded and covered everything in grey ash.
In the winter when there are already bare branches and less green, when the floodwaters recede they leave behind extra greyness and washed-out debris on all of the low branches and trunk-bottoms.
A fifteen year old girl was brought up on first degree murder
charges around the same time as the most recent flooding here in Washington. Apparently she gave birth to a baby (fathered by a man in his thirties) at home in the bathroom where she let it drown in the toilet, and with (at the very least) the knowledge of her meth-head dad she'd only been living with for a few weeks, placed the body inside the rest of their garbage on the curb.
This news broke at the same time I was looking at pictures of the valley where I grew up with most of it covered by floodwater. I remembered the times we'd be trying to come home from somewhere, caught by rising water, and my stepdad would drive through standing water on flooded-out roads even after my mom begged him not to. I especially remember one of those times being at night. Pitch dark except for headlights shining out over water in places it shouldn't be, all of us screaming for him not to do it. Alone in the night surrounded by black water at the mercy of a motherfucking man behind a steering wheel.
Many people do this. Many people die when people do this. Kids and spouses and girlfriends, powerless in cars controlled by someone who assesses the risk as worth taking and makes the decision for everyone to plunge ahead. These deaths are almost always called "accidents". Tragic accidents
. Even if the people were screaming and crying and begging the person not to do it. People who have names and can talk and the person didn't just go through physical trauma to give birth to in the bathroom of a house with a drug-dealing dad with a gun. Driven by people old enough to have a driver's license as opposed to someone who isn't allowed to drive a car by herself but was fucked without a rubber by some guy over thirty.
First. Degree. Murder.
Do you know the sound of a car driving through deep water in the dark with your little sister sitting beside you in the back seat? And you can't do anything to stop it or create any kind of safety? It's a scary fucking sound. My stepdad never even got a ticket for any of the times he did that.
The River. "River" is a scary, dark, dangerous word in my memory. It was a place my mom was afraid we would drown. A place where men dumped women's bodies. A swift swelling uncontainable body that could rise up and burst out of its banks in a matter of hours just because the sun did too much shining too early in the spring. The river is a fucking menace and I can never understand it when real estate brochures list "riverfront" in the words to lure prospective buyers. But I still miss living by those rivers, even though I hate the nightmares I still have about them. They are never not flooding in my dreams.
On a lighter note, here are a few of my favorite pictures we *did* manage to shoot (you can see all of them in Delia's members-only area
or a few more samples on her blog
We actually only shot two sets of pictures and a video (all of Delia) but it was worth it not just for the content but to seize the moment and enjoy a few hours away off cam to visit my mom on one day and just do NOTHING some of the rest of the time. Seriously, we played a silly computer game called Peggle Nights
for hours one night, and it was totally cool because we NEVER do things like that. It was so cold outside, and there was so much junk food to be eaten, and we were away from home for the first time since I started feeling human again . . . I wish we could have spent a WEEK not shooting or doing anything work-related.
It seems like that happens a lot when we leave home for shoots; we realize OH MY GOD WE HAVE NOT TAKEN ANY TIME OFF FOR OURSELVES OR SCHEDULED ANY VACATIONS AWAY THAT WERE NOT WORK IN FOREVER/NEVER AND NO ONE IS WATCHING US ON CAM IT'S LIKE OUR PARENTS LEFT US AT HOME ALONE!! Let's discover all of the microwavable instant noodles for sale at QFC and slum around doing absolutely nothing productive! LET'S HAVE A PEGGLE NIGHT EXTRAVAGANZA
Seriously -- it was bitterly cold outside. I don't know how Delia managed to achieve an erection out there. I would have cried my titties off. Next time I *will* shoot something on Ronette's bridge, though -- I promise! Unless a new Peggle comes out . . . (fyi: we downloaded Peggle Nights from Big Fish Games
In the meantime I have no idea what to post for my members-only update since I *thought* I was going to have Twin Peaksy pics to post. I mean, I have many IDEAS, I'm just not sure what we can pull off quickly. Like, tonight. We'll see what happens.
Labels: Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, Seattle, true crime
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Unlucky Valentine (PICS)
A few samples from my Friday the 13th / Valentine's Day gallery:
Am I superstitious about black cats and Friday the 13th and all of that? No. If I am, it's in the opposite way -- my rational mind rejects those superstitions and my personality seems to overcompensate by becoming GIDDY over the prospect of walking under ladders and attaching positive meaning to supposedly unlucky days/events/portents of doom. So yeah . . . I'm irrationally attached to those things that superstitious people consider unlucky.
I'm happy to be home again after being gone for four. We didn't get much shooting done, but the trip and time we took was worth it not just for the pictures, but the time to ourselves, off cam. We haven't spent a night away from work (aka home) together since . . . well, since well before September. I don't think this trip totally counted as a vacation, but it was a reminder that we should try taking one every so often (I know, it seems like I'm always saying that and never fully committing to doing it).
We also spent a few hours on Friday visiting my mom including eating at Ken's Truck Town (yes, we like eating at truck stops; why did they take the Monte Cristo off the menu?) and visiting the new casino
. I was surprised she wanted to check it out since my stepdad had a serious gambling problem and my mom was initially vehemently opposed to that casino opening (not because she's still with him -- she's not -- but having lived with someone with a gambling addiction she's not into casinos at all). We all stood around like we were in a foreign country trying to decide what to do with the $3.75 I'd split between the three of us to put in the slot machines. I'd have blown more money there (I consider it a donation/reparations . . . AND mindless fun) but neither my mom nor Delia
were interested once we lost the $21 we won.
We don't have any special plans for tonight. Tomorrow and Monday (President's Day) we've got webcam shows and chat scheduled so I think we'll just do a little work and relax this evening. Delia picked up a chile-flavored dark chocolate bar for us to share.
Labels: addiction, food, legwarmers, mundane, natural boobs, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, Seattle, work
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Mountains & Molehills
Yesterday we were obligated by desire and blue skies to take a walk in the middle of what would be normal-people's work day.
Right now I feel like taking a month long vacation. Not a real, TOTAL "vacation", but a chance to actually catch up on work with some breathing room to get healthy. There's nothing horrible going on in my life; everything is pretty awesome . . . except that I sometimes feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm feeling optimistic about it though now that I'm starting to understand why and commit to fixing the problem(s). I *really really appreciate* those of you who've taken the time and shared of yourself to suggest I look into getting my thyroid checked.
I could blog about this and all things related to it for hours, but now's not the best time to do it justice and make it sound relevant to people who probably have no idea how relevant it really IS to at least 10% of the population plus all the people who love them and wonder why they're cold, tired, fat, and crazy bitches with thinning hair and dry pussies. And the clueless, careless doctors who think it's all in our heads and just prescribe anti-depressants without even bothering to test us.
I am mad, hopeful, tired and I have a good, holistic plan (which includes taking as many walks in the middle of the day as possible) to get myself into top form and be less crazy. Again, I say I'd love to have a month-long "vacation", meaning a break from commitments but not a break from work. I'm not actually begging for that to fall out of the sky, I'm just semi-wishfully thinking while being partially thankful I can't have one. Because I don't really WANT one. I WANT to work. I'm just really fucking tired, but at least now I know WHY.
Okay. Maybe I *do* want to take a real vacation whenever I walk past someone who lives on shiny wheels:Second photo of mountain from the top = Mt. Baker
Mountain in last two photos = Mt. Rainier aka The Mountain
(all shot yesterday)
Labels: health, mundane, nature, Pacific Northwest, Seattle, work
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Wind & Sun in Winter (PICS)
We lost power at our house for a couple of seconds today because of the wind; it almost seems freakier when the sun's out and it's blowing than if the skies were dark and ominous. Blue skies + windstorms = the pink goth of weather.
Though we live northwest of/near Seattle, the weather is totally different here with a lot less rain. We're lucky to have big windows facing south so in January and February we can sunbathe naked. Inside, unless you have fur:
I took these pictures in our backyard after going to the store where the power was out. According to the locals I heard talking, part of town was out of electricity because a transformer blew, a tree fell/knocked down lines, AND someone crashed a car into a pole. Our wind is a force to be reckoned with!
Next month we're planning to spend some time shooting closer to my hometown, in the area where (some of) Twin Peaks
was filmed. I really wanted to commission someone to sew a waitress costume to mimic the ones they wore at the diner in the series, but I messed up the specs on the auction I created and didn't want to pay for something four months in advance of a time that would be too late for the look/time of year I wanted. Maybe next year. For now we'll try to capture a little of the vibe/local color without being crazily ambitious. Someday I would love to have the resources to get a bunch of our friends and fellow-Peaks-fans together for a couple of weeks to shoot some tribute porn. Someday.
Labels: dog, dreams, goals, husky, mundane, nature, Pacific Northwest, pets, photography, PHOTOS, seasons, Seattle, television, weather
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Shiny in the Snow - PICS
These pictures of me in a blonde wig outside in the snow with a blue sky turned out almost exactly how I wanted them to be:
I'll be posting the full gallery of over one hundred pics for our members
Tonight it's my turn to be the photographer shooting a Christmas gallery and video of Delia
. We're off to a late start due to the severe winter storm warning we're under here in western Washington; it just started snowing again and is supposed to keep going for the next five days. In our town we're being hit by stuff coming in from the west AND the south, so it might get really windy. Don't be surprised if our voyeur cams go down and you don't hear from us for a time -- it will just mean we lost one or both of our internet connections and/or power.
The streets are already coated with ice so Delia made sure we went to the store to stock up on everything we'll need if we can't get out for a week. Of course we'll still be able to walk, but I got a blister on the bottom of my foot a couple of days ago when we had to go downtown and thought it safer to walk than drive; my Payless snow boots are cheap and don't fit me well so I don't want to have to trudge for miles to lug home heavy groceries.
We're staying home alone for Christmas; I'll miss seeing our nephew, but I think it's better for us and our whole family if we're not on the road. Actually, I'm really missing Delia's family right now; I love spending Christmas at her parent's house. It's the only place I've been in the past six years where I don't feel compelled to work. I plow through books, I masturbate in bed, we come down with colds and flu, and somehow it's just a huge, relaxing vacation (for me, at least -- unfortunately, Delia isn't as aroused by our bedroom being located right next door to her parents as I am).
Labels: arousal, body hair, family, fetishes, hair, masturbation, memories, nature, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, Seattle, snow, TURN ONS
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
I've never been a big fan of snow, but now that I work at home it's growing on me since I don't have to drive in it. Living in the Seattle area we don't get a lot of snow so it's always cause for excitement around here. It doesn't usually last long, either, so I'm really happy we had a chance to go out and shoot in it.
The window of opportunity for snowy, seasonal pics is actually still open; it's been snowing most of today. Here's a shot of our dog from one of our spycams a few hours ago:
Anyway, the rest of the photos are up for my members
and we've got two outdoor spycams running today; we're going to walk downtown through the snow now to run some errands.
Labels: body hair, dog, nature, Pacific Northwest, pets, PHOTOS, seasons, Seattle, spycams
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Last month when Delia
was on her way to her laser appointment she encountered a road block situation by the Hood Canal Bridge: border patrol. We were mystified by it since THAT IS NOT THE BORDER and we've never seen anything like that before and I've lived in Washington state my whole entire life. So maybe there was a terrorist threat to smuggle weapons from Canada and blow up a submarine or something as it passed under the bridge? Far-fetched, but it was the only legit reason I could think of for the border patrol to be fucking around in these parts.
I know I'll probably regret posting this because it's loaded with keywords that might bring people from our town and sparsely-populated region to this blog; that's why I haven't linked to our local papers' coverage of it, because I totally do NOT need a trail leading from my porn site to our local paper and back again. But here's a story on what they're doing and how totally fucked up it is
. Because we live within 100 miles of the CANADIAN border, they're using 9/11 to justify slowing everyone down to pick out and harass anyone who looks Latino in a line of cars. We don't live by the Mexican border, and in my whole life here I've never heard of migrant farm workers committing acts of terrorism whether they were here legally or not. So WHAT THE FUCK?!?
I cannot believe this is fucking AMERICA in this new century. It's almost like traveling in time and space to some hideous place where all black people have a curfew and are detained by the strong arm of the law to show their paperwork, etc. "What are you doing on the highway without your papers?"
And then the border patrol brags in the paper about how they "netted" however-many "illegals" they caught in their shitty little traps. And the white folk in the line of cars gawk as the men with guns chase the brown-skinned people who leap from moving vehicles to RUN into the woods to try to get away.
Where the fuck am I living? What the fuck is going on? I seriously cannot believe this shit and the people who have the pink balls to defend it. And they gleefully tell us to expect MORE of it. They're ramping up! Their funding has been increased!
It boggles my mind the way these fuckers act so proud of their horrid, invasive, pathetic jobs. The way they won't acknowledge for a second that what they're doing is a violation of civil liberties and pretty much defeats the purpose of living in what we like to call a "free" country. Nothing personal against those who are just following orders and need their crappy job with the border patrol, but it makes me mad when I as a whore am shamed and vilified for my job but these guys? Get to walk around with their chests puffed out for stopping people without cause and wreaking havoc on people's lives. For reminding all of us how weak this country really is and scaring us all into seeing the horrifyingly distinct possibility that freedom is something that too many Americans are happy to see flushed down the shitter if it means maintaining some semblance of white supremacy.
I can't even imagine how angry I would be if I were an American Indian stopped and harassed at one of these checkpoints. I think I would lose my fucking marbles at the sickness of it, the US border patrol trying to keep brown-skinned people OFF land they stole FROM brown-skinned people. Where do they fucking get off?
Labels: cops, news, Pacific Northwest, politics, race, rants, Seattle, worse than porn
Saturday, August 16, 2008
WHAT made you lose your lunch?!?
I'm totally confused (and possibly deeply offended) by this post a Seattle guy made on Twitter
so here I am, befuddled, bothered and bewildered:MP3 File
What does this picture have to do with losing one's lunch?
Seriously -- I don't get it. I mean, I *hope* I don't get it. BECAUSE I HATE ASSHOLES! If you're following over a thousand people to get exposure for your site, try not to be a dick (or try to be clear).
I suppose I haven't got any room to talk about how whorey tweeters should represent themselves since I frequently post about pooping. But pooping doesn't hurt anyone's feelings. Though maybe it could make someone lose his lunch. Still, I don't think I want to follow people who have such weak stomachs.FYI: I may have misrepresented the guy's site in my phone post. And everything else about him. Because I don't know him or what he was trying to communicate. Obviously.
Labels: audio, beauty standards, nature, PHOTOS, rants, Seattle
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Today & Yesterday (& the day before that, too)
Here's what we're doing today
. We'll be gone all day since we have to trek to Seattle and will make use of that to visit family. I'm sort of hoping to come back sooner than later, though, because of how frosty and potentially icy the roads could get.
In the absence of real blogging, you can check my Daily Trixie blog
for the rundown(s) on what's been keeping me busy, including a brown rundown last night. Gross!
Looking forward to blogging more SOON!ish.
Labels: bodily functions, links, mundane, Seattle, travel
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Love & Attraction
had a sperm deposit to make in Seattle on Thursday. On our way to catch the ferry, we stopped for Chicken McNuggets on Bainbridge Island. I went inside quickly while Delia waited in the car and thought I saw an old familiar face of someone I fucked (and adored) years ago: Brian the Cop. I only saw him briefly out of the corner of my eye sitting at a table in back with some other men and dismissed the feeling of recognition to hurry and fill up our pop and get on our way so we wouldn't miss our boat. When I went back outside and noticed a police car with K-9 Unit written all over it, I realized it really must have been him and became GIDDY remembering how senselessly attracted I was to him.
This past year I've thought a lot about my promiscuous post-divorce adventures and the guys I met through a mutual interest in sex. I've thought about how they were all pretty decent fellows and that I was lucky to cross paths with them. I've thought about how unfairly mean and dismissive I was to some of them in my retarded early blog posts. I didn't have much in common with most of them, but I did like them and I feel even more fond of them now that they're cute little memories I can wonder about and wish well from a distance.
As I get older, I also feel guiltier and more conscious of some things I've done (or failed to do) that were idiotic, insensitive, unforgivably horrid, self-indulgent and/or just plain embarrassing. In fact, just the day or two before the Brian sighting I was spanking myself internally with mortification over the memory of how my retarded and unjustifiable infatuation with Brian the Cop led me to make my sorta-girlfriend at the time cry. I was inexcusably mean and stupid, and I enjoyed the whole fantastically dramatic mess.
Seeing him again, albeit fleetingly, made me forgive myself. He's stupid, I'm stupid -- we're all stupid. And beautiful. It doesn't matter what a goon the guy was, it WORKED for me and it's just not human to deny that some people electrify your insides in spite of how wrong they are for you. I'm thankful I never got the chance to completely ruin my life over someone like that and feel blessed that I got to enjoy the silly thrill of it all.
He was 6'4" and his penis was on the small side. He was a premature ejaculator and he had this song playing
on his website. He was big and hairy and ridiculous and I loved every lie he told me. When I expressed interest in humping his assault rifle, he followed through and brought it over for me. Though I loved seeing its sexy blackness laying on my bed, I had to admit with disappointment that it wasn't designed for humping and that his hand and small penis were much better suited to my genitals.
I grinned like an idiot all the way to the ferry terminal and chuckled to myself over the bad fucking joke of it all. While we waited for the boat to arrive, Delia
left the car to go to the bathroom and I looked around the holding area wondering if I'd see Brian jump out with one of his big German Shepherds to sniff out drugs and terrorists. I wanted to see him again without him seeing me.
I got distracted from thoughts of Brian when I saw a beautiful brunette woman in the distance and immediately felt a pang of attraction, that "WHO is THAT?!?" moment, before realizing a split second later that I actually knew her, too!
It was Delia coming back from the bathroom. Lucky, lucky, lucky times three (billion) because that woman in the distance is my girlfriend and it's no accident she's walking towards me.
Labels: confessions, cops, memories, my trans partner, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, relationships, Seattle, things I treasure, TURN ONS
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Due to disturbing problems with our neighbors we're giving serious consideration to moving, if not now then when the weather warms up. The trouble is we LOVE where we live. We just don't love that our neighbors live here, too.
That's our backyard. It looks like there are no neighbors, right? And there aren't, at least not on that side. That is the south side, the sunny side, the side that warms our souls. But turn the other direction to look north and you've got the dark side, the shady side . . . the side adorned with decaying mattresses and dramatized by domestic violence.
Growing up on the once-rural eastside of Seattle I was steeped in overcast dampness and have always loved mossy shadows, rain, and all of the other things people think are dark and depressing. Though I still live in Washington at a point still considered near Seattle, we live in a micro-climate that suffers from very little cloud cover. Some people call it The Blue Hole.
After five years of living here I'm finally getting addicted to the sun. This is the third house we've lived in together here, but it's the first with really phenomenal southern exposure coupled with huge south-facing windows. Though it's colder here than where I grew up, it's hardly ever gloomy and is often sunny.
This might be the first year of my life when I've really felt gloomy about the days getting depressingly shorter so I am *loathe* to leave this house with its vacation-room, a room with a wall of window heated by southern sunshine. November, December, January, February -- it actually gets HOT during daylight hours in this room during these months without even turning on the baseboard. It's like magic, totally defying everything I grew up knowing about Western Washington. I can go there for an hour a day to sunbathe in brilliant light and lazily read summertime fiction; it has a holodeck quality that I just can't give up, even if it means staying next door to a volatile woman and her abusive convict boyfriend.
Maybe when the days start getting longer again I'll be able to say goodbye to the stunningly perfect location and southern light we have here, but I've been so spoiled by it that the concept of "southern exposure" as a desirable real estate characteristic is no longer just something to wishlist, it's become a necessity. I don't know if I can ever live without it again so long as we stay in the Pacific Northwest.
I'd love to rant in more specific detail about our neighbors, but it's been so exhausting dealing with them that I've not wanted to rehash it in blog form. Yet. Someday? Hope so.
Those of you who hate the automated loudtwitter posts? I am going to take them off and stop having them post here. Feel free to comment more if you have thoughts about the whole twitter phenom or preferences about how/where I use it.
Labels: announcements, mundane, neighbors, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, Seattle
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Family & Holidays
"Family & Holidays" sounds like a title for a tired, bitchy entry, but it's not.
I'm not sick of my family, I'm sick of not seeing them as much as I want, as often as I want. Right now we're separated by many miles and large bodies of water (Hood Canal and Puget Sound to get to my sister/nephew/brother-in-law, plus Lake Washington in my mom's case) that take at least a couple of hours one way to traverse.
For the past few years we've celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas on off-days, before or after the actual days on the calendar, so that we wouldn't have to contend with holiday traffic. I've enjoyed that, but now that my sister has a kid and we're planning to have one ourselves and we're all just getting older, I really want to live close together, to be able to walk to each other's houses or at least be within a fifteen-minute drive of each other.
In a bizarre new twist in my fantasy life, I've actually been fantasizing about Thanksgiving and Christmas. About celebrating on the same days everyone else does. Eating turkey at one of our houses, then walking to one of our other houses for pie. I've been fantasizing about the cool outside smell of late November as we walk to my neighbor/sister's house with a big bowl of cranberry sauce. About seeing my nephew, who is now (for real) singing, walking, and signing like crazy, every day.
I fantasize about living close enough to my mom that I can see her in short, fun, frequent bursts, instead of long, painful ordeals built up by ridiculously long drives.
I want to be able to pick up flowers or stupid gadgets during a grocery trip and drop them off at my mom's and sister's houses. I want us to play cards at night with my brother-in-law and sister after the kid(s) have gone to bed. I want to smell each other's houses so often that they all feel like home. I want all of us to get fat and happy eating from each other's tables.
Whenever we drive around town lately I imagine we're driving to my sister's or mom's house, and that we're only a minute away from arriving.
My sister and brother-in-law actually want to move to our town, so that part is settled in terms of goals. When that actually happens, I think our mom will get on board too. The problem right now is of course just money. Part of me feels certain it's completely in my power to make this happen within a couple of years. Another part of me is just so slack and unambitious, I get annoyed with myself.
Part of the problem is I'm pretty content with our lifestyle and what we have so it's difficult to feel motivated to make more money. Yes, I'd like to have our own house, health insurance, no credit card debt and to be near my family, but the reality is I hardly feel the absence of most of those things. I feel pretty fucking comfortable.
In the past I've been motivated by the fear of failure, and since I don't really worry about failing anymore I struggle to feel motivated. I feel like I need to perform a bunch of focused mental acrobatics at this time in my life to encourage myself to run harder and faster to realize my now ultra-mundane dreams. I'm simultaneously frustrated with myself and stultifyingly content. I make myself sick with laziness yet I'm also sickeningly happy. The only thing that seems to light a fire under my ass is watching videos of my one-year-old nephew and missing the chance to see him often while he learns new things.
I've never hated the holidays. Yes, I've hated celebrating birthdays and hated SHOPPING for holidays, but the actual Thanksgivings and Christmases have had so much goodness I can separate them from memories of family dysfunction, like when a huge Thanksgiving fight ended with my grandpa verbally disowning me. My family is smaller and less dysfunctional now, plus I miss my dad who LOVED Christmas and gift-giving; maybe that part of him inhabits me now and urges me into this sentimental frame of mind. I don't want to spend one single Christmas day on the road, I want to spend a whole week with my family, with kids in sleeping bags and no worries about how losing sleep staying up late together on Christmas eve to play Santa will potentially cause a car crash. I want to go to church with my sister, and argue about which one we'll go to. Maybe we'll switch off.
Going to watch a video of nephew then slog through the more mundane aspects of my work, trying to stay focused . . . trying to remember what's MOST important out of the billions of things that are important to me.
Labels: family, fantasies, goals, memories, money, mundane, Seattle, thanksgiving
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Fast Food Porn Nation
FAST FOOD PORN NATIONWhy I haven't finished reading the book, my childhood experiences with fast food and eating out, and my current fast food addiction:
I didn't grow up eating fast food. For one thing, it didn't exist in our town; neither did stoplights. On very special occasions we might stop at a McDonalds out of town, but between Dairy Queen, Burger King and McDonalds, I probably ate fast food less than twenty times before the age of twenty. Oh wait, we did go to Skippers and Kentucky Fried Chicken more often (my grandpa even brought home KFC a couple of times) so I could probably add another twenty or more onto that number. I think we ate at Skippers quite a bit; my mom loves fish & chips. Skippers now seems to be the grossest, dirtiest fast food restaurant around -- a shame. We also did eat burgers out, but generally at actual non-formula drive-ins that did old fashioned grilling or were local destinations with a sense of regional history, like Dick's. Also, my mom hated soft-serve ice cream and didn't want to spend money on milkshakes or cones unless they were made with hard ice cream.
When our family would really "go out" to eat, my stepdad would take us to obnoxious pizza places. Shakeys in Redmond was one, and Showbiz Pizza was another. My stepdad LOVED the animatronic band way more than we kids could possibly relate to. Showbiz was always pathetically underpopulated, so I picture my stepdad's chortling head hovering in an empty room, the garish red stage lights reflecting off his glasses while he stared, mesmerized by the inhuman display and echoing music.
We did go out to eat a lot with my dad when he had visitation on the weekends, but he took us to diners and family restaurants. In the seventies and early eighties, Guadalajara #3 in Crossroads (Bellevue/Redmond area) was an early favorite; my dad would always order a side of corn tortillas which they presented hot wrapped in a royal blue cloth napkin. He would butter them for us. I always got a cheese enchilada. Eventually that restaurant closed and I moved on to ordering chicken enchiladas instead.
We also ate at VIPs in Issaquah where my sister enjoyed coloring their wacky bunny heads and I learned to copy my dad by ordering my eggs sunny side up. After VIPS died, we went to Shari's where my dad usually ordered steak and eggs. To this day, that's still one of my favorite breakfast meals.
Our dad was also partial to Chinese food so we went to Andy's in Issaquah a lot. We were such regulars that once my sister and I even went to Andy's house and on an outing with his daughter and some other kids to Chinatown where we went to Oujimaya (why can't I fucking find anything in google for oujimaya to find out if I'm spelling it right?) and ate out. He scolded us for using too much soy sauce on our noodles. Last thing I heard he was embroiled in an immigration scandal where he was accused of bringing a bunch of illegals over and had them working in near-slavery and living in inhumane conditions.
As we got older, we wound up eating at Red Robin a lot with our dad. I also remember a restaurant called Casa Lupita. I can't remember many of the other places, but they were your regular suburban dining spots. He never took us to Denny's, but we did go to The International House of Pancakes where he would order the Rooty Tooty Fresh and Fruitie. Lately I have been wondering a lot about my dad's real gender identity and sexual preference.
I was not an IHOP fan, probably because they didn't have good booths at the locations we went to; there was something disturbing to me about sitting in the IHOP with those high ceilings and the fish bowl plethora of windows with no good partitions inside so every single person in the joint was highly visible. I think good puffy booths with high backs and a table layout that affords some privacy are appealing to children for their fort-like atmosphere and sense of glamour. I haven't outgrown my love of booths and I hope I never do; I'm guessing that our early exposure to restaurants, as modest as they might have been, instilled a preference for being waited on over grabbing fast food. I also suspect that my dad's (undiagnosed except by me) ADD made him fear ordering fast food; I understand this fear -- the menus are overwhelming, everyone's clamoring for their turn, the rules and rituals seem so regimented and difficult to decode. Everyone around you seems to know exactly what they want while you stand there alone adrift in a sea of confusion, beeping machines, and teenagers incoherently mumbling their customer service lines. It's much less stressful to have time alone with a menu at your own table with your own waitress who will answer questions or just go away if you need more time.
The only fast food our dad ever took us to was Wendy's; he loved their chili. Wendy's never did it for me, and fast food in general didn't do it for my dad. He seemed to be opposed to it. I learned to be a responsible and proud tipper from my dad and I think my sister and I are healthier people today because our weekday family was too poor to go out to eat much but did have STANDARDS when it came to burgers, burger joints and ice cream, and because Daddy took us to actual restaurants instead of grabbing us happy meals.
I started reading Fast Food Nation
, but it was so good I couldn't get past the preface; my head got busy making parallels to porn. How most porn is made and presented like fast food. How people would never say that all food is intrinsically bad because FAST food is bad, but they will irrationally say all pornography is bad because some sucks ass, or has a few ass-suckingly unhealthy characteristics. Not that all forms of ass-sucking are bad or unhealthy . . . it's just a figure of speech.
How people feed their children extremely unhealthy, addictive, and eventually life-threatening fast food and call it good without a moment of critical thought going into the decision, but think that PORN is somehow a gigantically dangerous threat to their children's lives.
That's why I don't read nonfiction as much as I'd like to. MY HEAD STARTS SPINNING AND I CAN'T KEEP READING FOR THINKING TOO MUCH.
At twenty years old I finally moved to a place with fast food restaurants ALMOST within walking distance. I became addicted to Taco Bell, and it was good. I ate a great many chicken soft tacos without ever feeling too badly about it.
Lately I've become addicted to McDonald's, though. Our town has restrictions on formula stores, so McDonald's and Subway are the only fast food places that are grandfathered in. McD's is the only place I can go late at night to get a hot and tasty treat; once I started taking advantage of this I started doing it more and more. It's only become a frequent (once or twice a week) thing in the past four or five months.
Just the other day I got suckered into playing their little Monopoly advertising game and went TWICE IN ONE DAY. We strategically planned our menu choices to get the most "game stamps". I am even online right now entering codes from my game stamps on their site. On top of that, I'm considering doing research online to find out which stamps are the hardest to get, and starting new "collector" boards to fully maximize our chances of winning a big prize; I mean, I wouldn't want to throw away a large-prize-winning property to turn in a board for a $50 prize!
I feel like a sucker.
I wish we had a Taco Bell in town -- if we did, none of this would ever have happened.
Labels: attention deficit disorder, books, eastside, family, food, memories, Pacific Northwest, Seattle, values, worse than porn