Friday, August 07, 2009
Tree Time (PIC) & Technical Difficulties
The good news: yesterday we got out into the woods to shoot a set of pictures (eventually I took this dress off):
Today I have a set of pictures to post for members of me wearing cowboy boots
, which I'm looking forward to sharing.
We also have webcam shows
scheduled tonight and tomorrow, as well as a members-only chat
Now for some of the annoying news:
*One of the webcam networks disconnected our access, but don't worry, you can still get in a couple of different ways to see Delia
's show tonight. I will alter the page to tell members how. There are, however, a number of good reasons why my approach to dealing with that problem further are complicated. Not for you to worry about, even though blogging about it would make an interesting read -- I'll have to continue to bite my tongue for a few months or years longer.
*Ever since Twitter got attacked
early yesterday, I haven't been able to tweet as TastyTrixie
. Not via text/my phone, not on our main cable connection, and not on our DSL connection. For some reason, Delia's twitter account
is working just fine, though. I *am* able to post tweets through blip.fm
, though. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but it's driving me insane. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve to try to get it working, but honestly - there's a limit to how much time I can spend dealing with one fucking tribulation at a time.
*When I added more spycams, it broke some of them. The microphone on the NightVision cam (formerly known as "ballroom") is no longer reliably working, and my alternate method of connection to that cam using a different microphone also mysteriously died even after I tried reinstalling the software and other things. I guess the only solution at this point is to buy another microphone. In the meantime, you can still hear bedroom audio (though probably not as well) on the "MoreBed" and "BedroomDesk" cam. When they're not crapped out. Which they tend to be at inopportune times.
Anyway, little problems like that drive me batshit. I hate to admit how easily frustrated I get with those little unanticipated pinches of obstacality(?), but I do, especially when I'm in the middle of feeling bogged down and incompetent with larger projects (namely redesigning, like, all of our sites and most importantly helping get DeliaTS.com
off the ground; I feel like it should be easy but all these design projects are just sucking out my life force). But of course as soon as I get through them, maybe we'll be a few steps closer to being able to HIRE people to do the parts of design we can't/don't want to do. At least, I pray to motherfucking god that will be the case.
I plan on enjoying a lovely and orgasmic show tonight, though, and I hope to make a new sexy show music mix to inspire me. See you there?
Labels: anxiety, depression, mundane, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, spycams, webcam shows, webwhore insights, work
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Wet & Tidy
Yesterday we did a bunch of housecleaning with special attention on two of our most important rooms: our bedroom and the parlor where we do all of our indoor-exercising and sun-catching. After a week of smelling not-so-fresh places (the thrift stores, our van, the smokey-smelling motel room with the "no smoking" sign) it feels so good to be able to walk through our house and have it smell like lavender and other fresh things.
All I want to do is walk around in our house, picking stuff up, folding laundry, stretching, lighting candles, and daydreaming. That's not all I *have* done, but that's how I feel. Like right now I want to take a small container of polished rocks into bed and just pass them back and forth with Delia
, inspecting their colors and feeling their contours, holding them up to lamplight, listening to dorky new age music.
I feel great. Maybe it's the four anti-inflammatories I took for my period cramps today. I don't know. But it's pretty fucking rad. Maybe it was the sunshine we had the past couple of days and the exercise we got with it shining on us. Maybe it was being able to get work done even while I had to spend time on hold with the phone company. Maybe it's all of the clarifying and focusing I've been doing lately.
If I didn't know any better, I'd think maybe I'd been hitting one of these sweet pussy pipes
too hard. Or not. Since 40% of the few times I've smoked it's given me major anxiety attacks. Yes, few enough that I could count each of them and calculate the percentage. And right now I feel nothing but peace.
Labels: altered states, anxiety, bodily functions, drugs, mundane, thanksgiving, therapy
Thursday, February 12, 2009
From our motel room:
You always hope for good weather when you're shooting outside. Actually, you basically COUNT on having PERFECT weather. "Good" weather doesn't always cut it. Like today, when I wanted it to be gloomy, but not actually rain or snow. Instead it's sunny. Bright blue. Too loud.Delia
's getting ready for me to shoot her but the light is just not right at all.
I could have a spycam on me right now in our motel room while I blog this but I don't want to.
Sometimes it makes me nervous when I communicate shoot ideas/plans to people because I'm afraid they'll get their hopes up for something really creative and amazing based on how much work and planning we seem to be putting in it. And of course it never winds up being THAT great / is still pretty generic. At best everything is still sort of a rough draft of a good idea. Shows potential. Meets or exceeds a sort of bland standard of certain amateur porn things. We'd have to shoot a lot less to do a lot better or have a lot more resources and people working for us or stay up all day and night. People sweetly encourage me, "just shoot less! Shoot what *you* want!" but I don't think you can make money that way. The better and higher quality your work is, the less there is of it and the easier it is for people to "steal" and pass around. Have you noticed that on the internet? The more beautiful something is, the more people feel they have a collective right to enjoy it for free and share it with each other. This is great! Everyone should know about it!
It's an extremely flattering compliment that can wind up starving you to death.
I could pull out a lot of things we do and present them in a different way to make them seem better than they are, but I can't seem to find time for that. And again, I'm still proud of mediocrity and just having potential. It's a very good thing to make pictures that make people happy every week, are genuine, straightforward, show promise, suggest a certain mood. I think I'm good at that: being suggestive.
I have a hard time accepting compliments that make our work seem better than it is. I also can't help feeling defensive towards people who think what we do is easy or that they have solutions to challenges I complain about, solutions they are sure would work and certain have never crossed my mind or been attempted or dismissed because they wouldn't work for a variety of reasons.
I remember standing outside our local movie theater listening to some blow-hards talking about what THEY would do if THEY owned the local theaters. Why don't they do X and Y? It would be simple . . . if I owned it, X would be the first thing I'd do.
I hate those people even though I do exactly the same thing. Maybe that's why I hate those people; because I can't resist being a stupid know-it-all either, even when I know I don't. It's people's way of being part of the conversation when they really are in no position to comment at all. I just really hate being the subject of other people's imaginary business-plan hobby-thoughts myself, but I guess I encourage it to a certain extent. Love it up to a certain point. I want people to think of the growth of our business as a serial novel, something they want to keep reading about and hope will end well and spawn many sequels. I just don't want them to tell me how to write it. But with some people you can't have one without the other. I don't blame them since I can't resist doing the same thing sometimes. And some of them really mean well. They really do.Have you ever thought about X? I would totally read that! I'm sure it would make you rich! You know, I saw you on cam for ten minutes last week and I really think what your problem is . . . Hey, I'll bet if you did more of Z a lot more people would jack off to you! Z is totally where it's at.
Every time we go away from home to shoot I go through a little process. First I'm anxious that we'll forget to pack something, that things won't go as planned, that we won't get enough work done. Then I realize everything is going to be fine, and if it isn't, I might as well enjoy the time away as time off, well-deserved. Then I get a fresh perspective since I'm away from home/work and a million distractions and have a little flexibility to think clearly. About what I want. About what I REALLY WANT TO DO. If I could only do one thing.
I'm at the point where I know what that one thing is, even when I'm at home and not away. But I'm not at the point of wanting or being able to give all my other work up in favor of that one thing and don't know if I ever will be. I still cling to the notion that it might be possible to do it all. Or that I should do other things first in order to make doing the one thing easier, foremost and full-time, without having to give a fuck what anybody else thinks of it.
If I could be good at any one thing -- if I were to invest 10,000 hours of practice in attempting to master it -- I know exactly what the one thing would be. I used to think forty-five would be too old to start being good at something, but now I think it would be perfect. Even fifty would be fine. Which means I don't really need to start practicing right now to be completely satisfied with myself in fifteen years. I'm comforted by this thought.
Labels: accomplishments, anxiety, fans, goals, PHOTOS, webwhore insights, work
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Self-Soothing with Webmastering
After having family stay with us for a few days, I usually feel like I need a day off to myself to recover from the energy kicked up from so many people around me. During this visit, however, I kept retreating to WebWhore Headquarters (that's what I call my home office) for a couple hours here and there, allowing myself to WORK to relax.
Instead of picking work that I really *need* to do that's high priority for making money, I allowed myself to work on low-priority stuff that's fun and not complex or stressful (except for feeling guilty for not doing more important things) and requires no interaction with other people. Stuff that's compact, like blogging and posting one-pagers on domains I've had for a long time that have been sitting, completely BLANK. My thought is that anything I accomplish is a bonus since I should be taking time off from work while family is here for our late-Thanksgiving so I should do something totally relaxing instead of tangling with bigger projects.
Here are some of the one-pagers I've made over the past week or two:Worse Than PornTrixieDollBorg PornDeliaTSGive Me Sugar
It's soothing to play with fonts and colors and inspiring to remind myself of concepts and ideas that interest me. Only a couple of those were frivolous, actually, with no immediate application, but I still feel conflicted all the time and defensive about the choices I make with my time. Like if I enjoy it and other people might not understand where it fits in the puzzle, then I should feel badly about it. There are a lot of things I'm choosing to NOT do, and I constantly imagine a crowd of people criticizing my choices, saying "what, she's not doing X so she can do Y and Z?? THAT is stupid! She hasn't earned the right to waste time doing that -- I want X! I want X! Y and Z are useless! She would be so much better off doing X; a bigger commitment to doing X would solve all of her problems, can't she see that?"
One of my goals is to stop worrying so much
about the critics, both external critics and my own internal asshole voices who can ALWAYS find some way to make me feel like I'm not doing good enough. I need to focus on what I'm doing right (and right NOW), not what I'm doing wrong (or not doing at the moment). Unfortunately I'm often painfully aware that every choice I make to do one thing means not doing ten billion others. It's depressing and I have to knock that shit off. Being on Ritalin does help a lot because I can sit down and focus on something without intrusive thoughts and ideas continually popping into my head of all the other things I can/should be doing which then make me totally anxious, overwhelmed, afraid to proceed with the task at hand, and hopeless because of my limitations and lack of giant progress.
I know a lot of people struggle with similar feelings, so I share this for a couple reasons: because I know other people can relate and it always feels good to know you're not the only one with these kinds of challenges, and because it helps ME to type out my fears and remind myself I don't want to carry them around. I want to be happy with what I *can* do and what I *want* to do right now at this moment. I want to look at what I've done and feel a sense of accomplishment and pride, not guilt and maudlin hyper-criticism.
Anyway, the family is gone now, our spycams are back up, and Delia's warming up some of her delicious turkey & stuffing leftovers. Life is good.
Labels: accomplishments, anxiety, attention deficit disorder, escapism, family, fears, food, goals, inspiration, links, mundane, thanksgiving, therapy, webwhore insights, work
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
We're celebrating Thanksgiving late today; my sister, nephew and brother-in-law drove to our house last night and Delia
's cooking the turkey right now. The same turkey that's been in our freezer for more than a year since we had to cancel dinner last year after my mom broke her wrist and had to get surgery mere days before the feast.
As a teenager I really resented seeing the women stuck in the kitchen on Thanksgiving. It seemed completely unfair to me, the way they slaved away while the men sat on their asses thinking up ways to make the day unpleasant and contentious. It's kind of funny(?) that now I make basically no effort to help Delia prepare meals. And this is actually the SECOND turkey she's cooked and stuffed in the past month since she made one for a big potluck a few weeks ago. Maybe as a kid I thought I was feeling sorry for the women in my family when really I was just feeling sorry for myself because I had no desire to grow up and be stuck in that role, stuck in the kitchen. At the time it didn't occur to me to visualize what I WANTED, which was to grow up and have some OTHER woman (or some man) stuck in MY kitchen, cooking her little ass off while I come in just to rub my hands greedily and condescendingly tell her how GOOD it smells, and when will it be ready, honey?
My mom isn't coming to today's gathering, either, which is a good thing; I have an insanely bad case of PMS and our whole family gets exhausted when all of us are together. Someday I hope we'll all live closer together so it's not such a long-lasting, closely-packed, unable-to-escape-each-other ordeal but right now? That's how it winds up and it's too much of an energy-sucking drag for all of us to really be considered a celebration. The competition for control and attention between four strong personalities (mine, my mom's, my sister's and her two year old son's) is too constant. I've been encouraged to be more realistic in my expectations for family time, and in taking that advice I don't feel disappointed today that we're not all together at once; instead, I'm relieved.
Since our nephew is here a lot of our cams are down or cloaked so that he can run around freely. Also, one of the camsites where we broadcast has been down since yesterday; it's frustrating, but I'm trying not to worry about it today since there's nothing I can do about it and it wouldn't make much of a difference anyway with little Mr. Squishypants in the house.
I, my sister, and Delia stayed up way too late talking so I'm feeling really sleep-deprived right now and am going to try to get in a nap. I have a sick amount of anxiety when my nephew is here, worrying about all the ways he can get hurt, feeling like I need to watch everything he does in our child-unsafe house and around our dog. Even with all that watching, he's gotten hurt and while it is a consolation knowing none of those times have come even close to killing him -- kids HAVE to fall down, split their lips, bash their heads against sharp corners, etc. -- I still have a hard time letting go and it's much worse if I haven't gotten enough sleep.
Labels: anxiety, emotions, family, fears, hormones, mundane, my trans partner, nature, Pacific Northwest, PHOTOS, spycams, thanksgiving
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
No Clear Winner
I'm glad there's still no clear winner from yesterday's pick-me-a-blog-topic
post because I don't have enough time to blog or masturbate or do anything enjoyable except snatch some tv while we're eating as therapy to recover from the stress of . . . not having enough time/having time sucked up by STUPID stuff. Uncreative, unsexy, uninspiring, frustrating, lame-ass, stupid stuff.
Specifically? Too many hours spent over three (not consecutive, phew!) days replacing our router. Summing it up in one sentence like that hardly seems fair to me and only makes ME look stupid. Like only a dumb fuck could lose days of work on what sounds like such a simple little task. But it wasn't simple (and even when it was, it was still excruciatingly time and money-consuming) and was connected to many other things. Being a camgirl/pornographer? So not fucking glamorous most of the time. And it's not just me: pretty much all of my fellow camgirl/pornographer friends are constantly battling the same obnoxious tech shit that interrupts the fun parts of our jobs and makes us all want to just go bathe in gravy-covered carbs. Tech problems are the ultimate turn-off.
Sometimes when my eyeballs feel like they're about to pop out of my head from the force of my frustration and I start hyperventilating and looking around for things to throw out the window (or AT the window while it's still closed so they'll both make satisfyingly loud shattering sounds), I try to calm down by asking myself, "what would I do if I were an Officer on the Starship Enterprise
? I certainly wouldn't behave like this, even if WebWhore Headquarters were about to blow up in forty-five seconds!" Patience! Faith in one's own problem-solving abilities! Barely a sense of urgency: just a confident, one-step-at-a-time pursuit of a solution with nary a raise in my heart rate.
So far this technique hasn't worked for me. But maybe someday it will; it's dorky enough that it might do the trick when nothing else can. Or maybe I just shouldn't skip my Ritalin.
Tomorrow night we're going to *try* to trek to Ron's
to do some shooting for IMakePorno
. Hopefully I'll have gotten most of my "asshole" out of my system today, part of my tax return done (I *have* to get that done, like, yesterday), my hair colored (it's the color of faded, sun-dried feces from a malnourished cat right now) and have time to pack and plan before we get there.I am a Starfleet Officer, though. I can do anything.
Actually, I'm like an unholy (and super-irritating) union between Barclay
(cranky DS9, O'B) and Quark
. Sprinkled with the annoyingly pompous, bossy, hypercritical, controlling, buttinsky loudness of Kira
Yes, you *should* feel sorry for my friends and family.
Labels: anxiety, blogging, inspiration, money, mundane, pop culture, Star Trek, technical, television, TURN-OFFS, work
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Tonight while Delia
was at her AA meeting I really wanted to play piano and sing, but as usual having the audio on the cams makes me feel totally self-conscious. I know I shouldn't be, that even if I suck ass it's entertaining, but that doesn't matter; I want to be alone.
It's not that hard to turn the audio off on the cams, but I feel guilty about it and worry that people just joining for the first time will check the cams, not hear anything, and think I lied about broadcasting audio. On the other hand, I feel guilty about not doing something I enjoy and value (making music for the sheer pleasure of it AND to practice/improve) so I think I'm going to start setting that time aside when Delia's at her meetings for alone time at the piano and just turn the audio off on the cams. I might even log in a special silent cam since I don't mind people WATCHING from a voyeuristic angle, I just don't want to be heard, critiqued, etc.
Maybe if I keep that up we'll start having monthly or weekly "performances" or something so the mystery can be revealed and to motivate me to focus on doing more than just noodling around.
Labels: anxiety, audio, music, priorities, privacy, spycams, things I treasure, values
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Rubber Swim Caps
After taking swimming lessons as a kid, I haven't spent much time in pools, but I want to get in the water more often so I dusted off my old rubber swim cap (barely used), bought a new one (the purple one below) and replaced the old broken rubber strap on my goggles. I tried everything on during one of my webcam chats last week and was extremely pleased with the results:
I can't tell you how much I love wearing my swim caps -- it has all the pleasure of a corset without the hassle and expense. A corset for your BRAINS! They're snappy, squeaky, thick and delicious and wearing them reminds me how glamorous I thought women were who wore do-rags and turbans when I was very young. LOVE! I am INCHES away from shaving off my hair and wearing swim caps full time (and paired with earplugs it would be delicious deprivation of auditory perception). Except without the hair I don't know if it would be as pleasurable to remove the swim cap after thirty minutes or more of wear; there would be less hair-pulling, but too much cold to enjoy the slow expansion of the head and hair-floof back to maximum size.
And don't even get me started on goggles . . . this is my LOOK! I think it's totally cool when there's a reflection on just one lens.
Swimming was fun, but I went alone and was actually nervous about doing something new: would they have lockers and if so, would they provide locks and keys and something to hold onto the key while I'm swimming? Would I have to pay for each scheduled event I stayed for or only the first thing I showed up for? Would I be horribly slow and block faster, fitter people from enjoying their laps?
I managed to go despite these nagging anxieties and enjoyed myself, even if I can't seem to swim in a straight line and kept kicking the wall during my sidestroke and wound up with a scraped foot. I love being immersed in the water. I love the colors and sounds of an indoor pool. I love everything being muffled and wet and full of vapor. I love floating and turning and being thick and mobile.
I felt calm and heavy afterwards. It's good stuff. In fact, I went back for more and posted a confession/fantasy today for members that I had about myself and the nerdy lifeguard
Labels: anxiety, beauty standards, chat, confessions, fantasies, fetishes, PHOTOS, things I treasure, TURN ONS, webcam shows
Friday, August 01, 2008
Earthquakes & Invasions
Our stay in the Victorian bed & breakfast (they call it a hotel so you'll know they don't serve breakfast, but for your visualization purposes imagine more of a B&B than a hotel) was productive, but we didn't manage to completely avoid being "caught" doing our sneaky porno shooting
. But first, there was an earthquake
While I was sitting on the floor against an outside wall shooting Delia on the bed, it felt like a truck drove into the house and made us sway back and forth on the second floor a few times. It excited us but we weren't sure whether or not it was an earthquake, mostly because we'd just had a conversation the day before about how often we wake up in the middle of the night and IMAGINE there's an earthquake. It was just too much of a coincidence, having discussed our earthquake paranoia so recently. Plus, it didn't feel like most little earthquakes in Washington which are usually like rumbling underground tummies. Instead it was like a 3 second excerpt of the middle of the big earthquake we had a few years back
with swinging, swaying, flexy building movement. I considered going downstairs to find out who else felt it, but we kept shooting instead. Maybe it felt unusual we because we were only three miles from the epicenter. Anyway, I know it's "nothing" compared to what Californians frequently experience, but for us it definitely is something else. Little ones are always a reminder of how vulnerable we are up here in the subduction zone
to having a really devastating earthquake, or even just another like last time which was pretty fucking exciting and freaky (it made me positively GIDDY!). We also live in a town with buttloads of fresh tsunami warning signs, so we do have frequent reminders to be scared shitless of earthquakes.
The next morning when housekeeping knocked while we were sleeping I loudly dismissed her, firmly informing her "WE DON'T NEED ANYTHING". Later that afternoon while Delia was at home checking on the dog and I was out at the grocery store picking up snacks, the "innkeeper" must have decided to do some housekeeping himself; I came back to our room only to discover our door wide open and our bed made. The fellow hurried down the hall toward me and noticed the look of consternation on my face, explaining, "I was just emptying your wastebasket; I think everything is all right."
The way he said "I THINK everything is all right" sounded to me like he noticed our light stands, colorful cheap corsetry & lingerie scattered around, the way I'd moved an obnoxious framed snapshot from one dresser to another, and the conspicuously absent "checkout time is at 11 am blah blah blah" printout that had been taped up on the particularly photogenic doors. He was saying, "I needed to investigate your activities and have noticed many things are suspiciously askew, but I guess since you haven't pulled the chandelier out of the ceiling I'll let it slide."
I was pissed.
The only consolation was seeing Delia
's cum-streaked black stockings on top of the bed; he'd moved them to make the bed, then put them back on top of the covers where I'd left them. If someone wants to go poking around in our stuff they deserve to encounter some unexpected bodily fluids; normally I would pick up/put away stuff like that if I'd indicated we needed maid service, but I had no reason to think someone would be inserting himself into our room and fondling our underwear.
None of this would be such a big deal if we didn't live in such a small town where word can spread like wildfire amongst the "innkeepers" or if we didn't want to have the option of returning to certain places to shoot again. I don't actually blame people for being concerned that someone's up to no good in their homes/mansions/hotels, it's just not very convenient for us. I would like to be up-front and honest about what we're doing, but it's just not an option; I only know one person who tells vacation rental owners what she's doing when she goes to shoot, and her stuff is more politically correct than what we do. Everyone else we know shoots overtly pornographic stuff, and none of them inform people what they're doing when they rent places or pop into hotels to shoot. People who genuinely aim to shoot "fine art nudes" (or at least exude the pretension of artistry) probably have an easier time of it, in part because it seems quieter and less scandalous AND because people don't assume artists are rich enough to pay extra for locations whereas everyone assumes pornographers are rich because SEX SELLS, not art. I'm not just worried about being blacklisted, I'm worried about people charging us more to shoot in their places.
Apparently there are often regulations, local ordinances, etc. and fine print stipulations in rental agreements forbidding doing commercial shooting without permits and/or permission; I think most of it is written with film in mind, but it's something few people realize, but could become more and more (or less, maybe) of a visible legal issue with so many people making photo and video content that then appears online. I don't know all of the ins and outs about it and would like to think when the "innkeeper" invited us to wander around and take pictures, his words could be taken at face value, but honestly I would prefer not to broach the issue at all. I'm sure everything's fine, but it does worry me a little. On the other hand, I feel very much that HE did something wrong by going into our room after I'd said, rather clearly I thought, we didn't want any housekeeping. I feel that if someone discovers we're moving furniture around or doing slightly kinky things with cameras BECAUSE THEY INTRUDED ON US (and fail to have "do not disturb" signs the way most places called "hotels" do) rather than because we broke something or made a bunch of noise, then they are more in the wrong.I know some of you are reading this thinking I'm being totally paranoid, but I'm going to bet you either a) live in a city, and/or b) are more resourceful than I and/or have more resources at your disposal so you aren't worried about finding alternatives, and/or c) your job is not the same as mine.
In spite of the intrusion (and maybe because of the earthquake) we had a grand time. We weren't at all tempted to run away home to sleep this time. I *loved* our two nights in a strange bed, even with the walls being paper thin (this should be a hint to you that we didn't shoot any noisy couples action, or even any quiet couples action). It was all very softcore except for a couple of Delia's cumshots, and if I were the innkeeper I'd be happy to have us as patrons because the other guests? They were way louder than we were!
Labels: anxiety, nature, Pacific Northwest, photography, webwhore insights, work
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.
I don't know how many videos I have at this point, and I'm not sure how many you would consider to be "nice" since that is a highly subjective term. Most people who join my site are into the whole "package" that I offer, both as a strange and wonderful human being AND as a porn site proprietress, and statistics barely enter into their decision of whether or not to join.
Good luck in making yours!
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
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.
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
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
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
Sunday, March 02, 2008
When I woke up in the middle of the night to pee, I looked for our dog, Nico, before I stepped out of bed; she likes to sleep sprawled out RIGHT NEXT TO ME on the floor so between her and my nightstand, I have to perform circus tricks to get out of bed without stepping on her.
All that was on the floor in Nico's usual spot was a pillow and a blanket that had fallen off me. Then, because I'm a dipshit, I felt I needed to go looking for her in her dog bed; she wasn't there either. I found her at the foot of the bed, lying very still (the way most living creatures do in the middle of the night).
I don't know when it started, but I've developed an irrational need to make sure people and dogs are still breathing in the middle of the night. I think I started doing it when Delia was still drinking and then it got worse when my nephew was born. Or maybe it was all those years of my dad being sick and watching him die; seeing how easy it could be to just stop breathing without anyone noticing. Also, Nico is getting old; I think she's fourteen now. Anyway, I feel compelled to pop out my earplugs and hover to see if the object of my concern is still breathing, getting close to look for a rising and falling chest or the soft sound of exhalations. My loved ones are apt to wake up to my face in theirs, inquiring once I've woken them up, "are you alive?" Duh. Are you crazy?
It was hard to see last night, so I put my hand on Nico's chest. She didn't flinch or move even a tiny bit. Her thick fur felt cool under my hand. I couldn't feel ANY movement and feared she wasn't breathing so I rubbed her a little. NO RESPONSE. It was like she'd been dead for an hour or two! Then her hind legs relaxed a little bit, but I thought it was just because she wasn't stiff yet and I'd moved her.
I woke Delia up by shrieking, "honey I think Nico's dead!"
Delia woke up and crawled to the end of the bed as I told her I couldn't feel her breathing and she wasn't moving. She gently put her hand on Nico's chest and belly, too and couldn't feel anything so she sharply said, "NICO!" and snapped her fingers.
Nico came back to life, then. It was like magic. She lifted her head and shifted her body to a "should I get up now?" position. Delia flopped back to sleep, I went pee, and when I got back from the bathroom I still couldn't believe Nico hadn't been dead. I felt like she came back to life just because we love her. She was standing at the foot of the bed looking at me; instead of going back to sleep right away, I held out my hand to her so she would come to me and I stayed awake petting her until she settled down to sleep by me. Her body is so little under all of that fur.
You would think I could stop myself from doing these breath-tests by reminding myself I'm being crazy. No one is going to just die in their sleep, at least not anyone who was perfectly healthy the night before. But I don't really believe that so the only way I can stop myself is to tell myself if they're dead, what can you do about it? Just go to sleep and take care of it in the morning.
I'm not kidding. That's the only line of reasoning that sometimes works on my three am head. But mostly I figure there's no harm in checking so I do. But there IS harm, when I imagine someone's dead even when they're alive and make my heart start pounding and wake up other people to verify. It's embarrassing and weird.
I cannot sleep in the same room as our nephew anymore because I just stay awake listening to him breathing. If I manage to fall asleep, I still keep waking up with compulsions to listen and check. He's not a tiny baby anymore so the crib death thing isn't really an issue, I'm just painfully aware of his mortality. His and mine and everyone's, I guess.
Labels: anxiety, death, dog, family, fears, mortality, pets, relationships