My name is Trixie (aka TastyTrixie). The Wandering WebWhore is my personal blog. I'm a 30-something indie pornographer whose journal covers a variety of topics: mundane daily life, work-related reflection, sex stuff, current events, and more.
Wondering why there's been a deathly quiet here on my blog? It's because I'm revamping in a major way and don't want to post here and then have to manually import into the REVAMP.
I hope you won't have to wait much longer; I've promised myself not to wait until it's *perfect* to unveil it (partly because that won't actually be possible; there are some things I can't fix until it goes live), especially since we'll be launching DeliaTS.com around the same time (the other reason why things are quiet here - we're juggling multiple "projects" which is typical, but they're feeling very urgent right now and sweet jesus I can't even type about it, trying to convey the enormity of pressure, without starting to hyperventilate).
As usual, tons of things I *want* to blog about (like how Conan will never be the same anymore and I can't stand his new set -- really IMPORTANT things that make me cry myself to sleep or keep me up all night lamenting the passage of time and inevitability of change). Of course I'm still updating inside with porn for our members, but we have GOT to get this other shit done. So you can look at pretty fun things! I know you're sick of hearing me bitch & moan about how outdated our sites are and wonder what is TAKING so long for us to just fix them already! I really wish I were skilled enough to snap my fingers and have it be done and over.
Anyway, we are going to be gone (much longer than I *want* to be gone) this week trying to shoot a bunch of porno in the woods so looks like it will be mid-September before you can see some of our work come to fruition. And actually be entertaining or mildly amusing or more absorbing than posts like this one.
Thanks for sticking with me, friends, foes and fans! I hope you will like our new site designs better than I like Conan's new set with all those light blue backgrounds with all those distracting LINES.
I just *know* what goes around, COMES around and for every time I've shrieked at the tv screen about that annoying frosted section of plexiglass behind Conesy's head or those flimsy-looking wooden borders around his super mario bros. screen with their annoying verticality and stick-ness, there will be ten people who HATE the way I'm changing up my site. It's not soothing! It's too busy! IT IS DIFFERENT, THEREFORE BAD! And holy shit, it's totally not sexy at all! Poetic justice for all. Or at least for Trixie. ON THE WAY!
Oh dear GOD! THE LINES ARE NOT STRAIGHT! The lines behind Conan are not straight! They are not running perpendicular to the bottom of the frame!! Oh, Jesus KILL ME -- those motherfucking lines are not straight, or if they are for a moment I know it only takes the slightest movement for everything to be out of alignment once again!! And that wooden base! IT'S TOTALLY NOT RUNNING PARALLEL TO THE BOTTOM OF THE FRAME! THE HORROR!!!!
Yes, the thoughts in my brain are TOTALLY FUCKING ANNOYING. And now you have some idea of why it takes me forever to finish anything that involves building things that are supposed to have straight lines. I can't abide things being out of whack in relation to each other, yet I'm not smart or talented or patient enough to bring them INto alignment.
And that, my friends, is why I often have to lock myself in a dark room and bury myself under mounds of pillows to calm down.
Seriously, though; all of those lines are REALLY ill-advised for shooting any kind of moving pictures. And while I can actually tolerate them if I try, it's impossible for me to actually RELAX with that mess of crookediness happening on the television screen.
Just checking in to say I'm alive with lots of fun, exciting things, and challenging stuff going on. Well, fun, exciting, and challenging TO ME. Most of it wouldn't translate into great blog reading, some of it I can't post in the kind of detail that makes it worth your time, and mostly I'm just trying to get some other stuff done.
I was going to post some pictures along with this to make it more interesting, but blogger doesn't want to let me. And I don't have extra time to do workarounds, so . . . later.
I know the blog still looks like crap and has a bunch of unfinished stuff. I have a new plan for attacking that, though, and am working on it now, along with 497 other things.
Note to people who've emailed me recently or in the past and haven't heard back yet: it's not you, it's me. FOR REAL. And you're not alone. It's just extremely rare for me to have the spare computer time and enough brain power to communicate coherently, even when it's something that seems (and maybe IS) really simple. Better people with bigger brains (and asses that don't fall asleep after sitting at the computer as many hours as I do) might be able to do it, but I'm not one of them. I have been known, however, to respond to email even when it's many years old, so I hope you don't plan on changing your email address.
*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 or SpyOnUs. 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?
I wanted to post this update tonight, but I got carried away doing extras so here's a little preview for members (and non-members) to get an idea of the kind of video I'm posting (just for members) tomorrow:
It starts out with some tugging and dick-sucking, then progresses to reverse cowgirl with a cumshot in panties (after some closeups of it going INSIDE me) which is one of my (and my fans') favorites:
I kept manipulating my panties with the cock against my ass even after the cumshot. This little animation doesn't quite do it justice, but since it's more than enough for some people to get off looking at, I'll leave it in simple mode and you have to join to download the actual video (and others like it):
You've probably already heard how hot it's been here in the Pacific Northwest this week; I am on a pretty good roll with exercising semi-regularly, but it's so hot that I have to make sure to do it early or later after it cools down. Tonight it wound up being later (after an unexpected and annoying troubleshooting session with our most important spycam with nightvision & audio aimed at our bed) which means by the time I did that and showered it was really too late for me to put on makeup and record a vlog for members. Lately I've been trying to at least LOOK semi-sexy in the video blogs, so I'll save that for tomorrow when I hope the makeup efforts will do double-duty for some shoots. Then again, my period will probably come and I might have cramps so who knows . . . valiant efforts will be made, but they might be swatted down by the heavy hand of high humidity.
The goofiest stuff to be seen and heard on our spycams comes from our kitchen cam where Delia cooks and I come in to harass her. Whatever song I have stuck in my head is screeched out loudly, bizarre dance moves are revealed, body spasms are articulated.
Here's a little photographic evidence (shot by remote on our Nikon D300, not webcam snags) of us dork dancing to the soundtrack in our minds:
In less fun news of self-employment on the internet, we've had our share of little challenges. One of the big ones: our sites got hacked and a malware script was installed on most of the main index pages. Our hosting company immediately helped me fix it when I discovered it RIGHT as I was about to do a show but we weren't fast enough for one site, BloodyTrixie, so it got a big warning slapped on it by google which they quickly removed after I used their webmaster tools to report that the malware had been removed and *I* didn't put it there (this type of hacking happens to people -- has even happened to google, yahoo, etc. THEMSELVES -- so often they had a really good, easy-to-submit-to, process to go through to get it remedied). I hope everyone realizes how important it is to have good security software to detect these things because this can happen to any site you trust and have surfed safely forever. I personally use PrevX (which is how I discovered the problem in the first place when it alerted me that I got malware from one of my own fucking sites).
Anyway, it could have been much worse, but even then it's one of those freaky things that makes you realize how ephemeral and vulnerable your content, reputation, page rank, search engine placement, trustworthiness, etc. are to having some stranger in motherfucking Russia or Belarus or wherever-the-hell robotically shitting on all of your work. The REALLY scary thing is imagining how ruined you could be if someone actually had a personal vendetta against you and decided to fuck with you.
We've also had a random power outage this week (making our spycams go down), then almost two hours of our main internet connection being down for everybody in our county (making most of our spycams go down AGAIN), and before that our main spycam host taking a dive in the middle of the night PLUS one of our OTHER spycam hosts having a bunch of downtime (meaning cam downtime on THAT system). AND when I finally got around to running a backup of my main machine's hard drive the whole thing took a gigantic shit and I thought I might have been too late. Two dozen blue screens of death and many hours later I got it fixed (AND backed up), though (and no -- I'm not buying that this is because I use PCs; in all my years of PC use I've never had a problem like this; I've never even had a hard drive fail on me [except for the one in my old laptop that I spilled liquids on] and LOOK! It's all fixie-pooed!).
Anyway, at times these are the things that lend a nightmarish quality to working for yourself and relying upon electronics and stuff. Maintaining your vulnerable little tools is, you know, WORK. And sometimes I feel like I have no control over any of it or competency to deal with it. You're always babysitting and battling a bunch of overheated computer monsters.
We've got webcam shows and a members-only chat scheduled today. Members can check out our google calendar here for details.
We have a new nephew! After a long labor he wound up having to be born via c-section and then had something called a pneumothorax where there was air in his chest cavity. Delia and I were "lucky" enough to get to watch the doctor fix it by thrusting a needle into his tiny chest and having the nurse use a syringe connected to it to suck out the extra air. It was all very stressful, emotional and interesting.
Now we're away from home again at a conference where I'm probably going to spend most of the day withdrawn in our hotel room because I'm totally drained. Over the past month we've driven thousands of miles and I'm very sick of it and just want to spend a long week appearing completely catatonic, living only inside my head and lying under a giant pile of blankets and pillows. I've been eating comforting crap (lots of potato stuffs and pasta) to compensate for feeling rubbed raw and the thought of having to make eye contact and concentrate on what anyone is saying hurts my fragile head. I hope I feel more social by Wednesday and Thursday when we have camshows scheduled.
The GOOD news is that one of our dear friends is reviving her sites and inserting them into our network. I also finally got started on redesigning my site; it's very simple so it won't take much to finish it and finally not feel outdated (even though the design is so simple as to be retro-amateur).
Delia 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.
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!
The main thing I want to point out is in the left sidebar: a contact form for bloggers who want to exchange links (or who've been linking to me forever and want to bring it to my attention). I know my blogroll is outdated and there are tons of people who are linking to me (or were, until they gave up on me) but since I so rarely check my stats (and the site I used for years to track stats took a dive last year so I kind of gave up completely at that point) I just don't know about it. Now I have a more systematic way of being notified and following through. I hope my bloggy colleagues will make use of it!
I still have a work to do (updating the FAQs, adding and subtracting links, updating the blogroll, etc.), the code is REALLY ugly (I don't have any plans to fix that any time soon), and it doesn't look at all "web 2.0", but all I care about is that it works and is slight improvement over the old blue blog. I actually REALLY hate three column layouts with the content in the middle because I'm totally distracted by the shit in the sidebars. Unfortunately I didn't want to spend more than eight hours on this so I just kept it simple and assumed most people aren't as easily distracted as I am (and most people are using feedreaders now anyway - maybe).
After I clean this up some more I need to move onto redesigning the whole free area of my site. I'm feeling overwhelmed by the task(s), but it has to be done. I might end up going with A LOT of white space which will be effective for surfers and a good challenge for me (should be simpler, but with my tendency to stack one mess on top of another, maybe not).
It's not as light as I was maybe aiming for/have had in the past, but it will get there. I trust the colorist I have now completely and think this is a good transitional, natural-looking dirty blonde. Every time I go back it will get lighter. AND SLUTTIER!
It doesn't look it in these pictures, but the color reminds me of Irlene Mandrell's back when Barbara Mandrell had her show; obviously I'm dating myself, but I thought Irlene was HOT (and that show was RAD) so I'm totally flattering myself with the comparison. Other than the hair color (as I remember it in the show) I am/look nothing like "Irlene Mandrell! What's a nice girl like you . . . "
Man, chicks were so much hotter/sluttier in the eighties. The satin shirt, fake-stupid voice, eyeliner, tight jeans and boots give me a nostalgic hard-on.
I'm excited about going to bed tonight, partly because I exercised for more than 90 minutes (gasp -- this is massively unusual/hard for me), but mostly because Delia got wood. For our bed. Because our mattress is too soft and saggy which has made her back get totally fucked up to the point where lately she gets up in the middle of the night to sleep on the floor or in the guest room (which also has a too-soft mattress, but she can toss and turn without worrying about disturbing me). Today she got a thick sheet of plywood to put under the mattress/over the box springs and it seems to have made a big difference judging from the short after-dinner nap I took on it. I can't wait to see what a full night on it will do.
We very much enjoyed having Kris Madison and company over this weekend, including her pug:
We indulged in the finest pizza, quiche and naughty treats from McDonalds, played birthday games, saw Coraline (delightful), talked sex, introduced Kris to Deep Space Nine, and didn't get QUITE enough sleep (WELL worth it).
I also got enough work done that I feel carpal-tunnel-syndromey in my right wrist, but not enough done that I'm not panicking right now since tomorrow we've got chat and shows lined up for members to celebrate my birthday and St. Patrick's Day and I'm still trying to finish a members-only update and eleven promotional galleries I meant to send to affiliates way BEFORE St. Pat's.
My show tomorrow (the 17th) is at 4 pm (PACIFIC TIME), Delia's is at 6, and my members-only birthday chat is from 7 to 8:30. If you can't make that one, there's another one on Saturday from 4 to 5:30 to possibly draw/determine the winners of the make-me-blonde thing (which, after last week's terrifyingly low sales (a subject for another blog entry), will be the only way I can afford to make that shiny transition. There is hope for you yet, redhead and brunette lovers!
Here are a few spookily-costumed samples from the gallery I just posted for members:
I'm going to keep the most lickably pink shots private/just for members this time around.
Delia never complains about being in pain; since I met her seven years ago she's only mentioned something hurting her a handful of times, one of them when she had salmonella poisoning. This week her back's been bothering her and getting worse, to the point where she couldn't even sleep on our soft mattress last night (so soft she thinks that's one of the culprits) so I didn't quite get all of my Z's either (it's so weird to wake up and not have her there beside me in bed) so I'm going to try to take a nap now since we'll probably be up late having fun with our company tonight and the rest of this weekend. I want to be well-rested to fully enjoy their visit!
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.
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.
Just a quick entry to say we're busy getting ready to be gone for a few days trying to shoot something specific. Outside. And it's WINTER. But that's when it needs to be shot. Mostly we're just trying to get ready (much more complicated than you might imagine unless you've done our kind of work and the same way we do it) and it's been snowing (again).
I anticipate having cold fingers, legs, buttocks, etc. a lot on Thursday and Friday. And then we're going to celebrate a late Christmas/early Valentine's day/Friday the 13th dinner with my mom. I'm looking forward to it, but also dreading certain things and am practicing stress management techniques while I'm not actively working.
Yesterday we went shopping for additional costuming for aforementioned shoot and after hours of sifting through second-hand clothing my nasal passages, throat and head already felt invaded by that weird, unsettling thrift-store smell that makes you feel like you're coming down with some old-lady sickness. Then we went to the drugstore where a lady was coughing. AND COUGHING. And hacking.
I'm not the type who's EASILY grossed out by random germs, sneezing or coughing people in public, but my mucous membranes were already feeling vulnerable after searching through three thrift stores and this woman was really projecting her spittle. She made half-assed attempts to cover her mouth with her hand by holding it up six inches from her face and coughing TOWARDS it, not into it, and then she walked around briskly touching every single thing in the store with that hand. On top of that there's something unsettling about this woman; I've seen her around town before and she's like a fascinating fifty-seven year old dolly with long, youthful dark-blonde hair in waves worn in a loose asymmetrical ponytail. Her face is powdered porcelain with spots of rouge on her cheeks. Her lips and eyes are lined and her features are girlish except for the wrinkles around her mouth. Nothing about her says middle-aged, which is probably what she is; instead she's a duality of eleven-year old girl and seventy-nine year old woman. I'd totally follow her around the store to stare if she didn't give off such an aura of contagion.
When we got to the checkstand she got in line behind us and it suddenly started pouring down snow outside. The cashier kept interrupting our transaction to answer the phone and I felt totally hemmed in by winter, like she wasn't going to give up until she infected us with post-nasal slush.
Because I DO NOT want to get sick right when we've got time and money invested in shooting, I came home and started swilling down emergen-c until I was totally high (see this tweet followed by this). I rarely get colds (I think I've averaged maybe one cold or flu every other year, if that, in the past fifteen years) but I'm still paranoid enough to often feel like I'm coming down with one.
So. The goal today is to get a million things done, not get sick, stay calm, and leave as early as possible tomorrow so we can arrive at our destination safely while there's still daylight so we can plot our shooting locations for Thursday and Friday.
I won't be checking email while we're gone, we have webcam shows and chat scheduled when we get back (on Sunday and Monday), and I've only responded to maybe 3% of my email over the past year, so . . . yeah -- if you want to talk to me any time soon you'll probably need to be a member who shows up to one of those live cam events next week. Wish us a productive trip!
Speaking of my limits, two seconds before I hit "publish" on this post, I got a comment on my last blog entry from a guy who has a problem. Here's the comment:
I hope someday that you will reply to my comments. Forever seeking your feedback, Furry Freak Bro, aka4JerryGarcia, Merry Pranksters, etc.
He might be a nice guy (if memory serves he acts normal during camshows), but he is one persistently demanding motherfucker who cannot take a hint. Facebook, twitter, email, blog comments -- they all say basically the same thing: Hi there - respond to me PLEASE; I await your response. Please write back to me. If you commented back it would make my day. Your fan, xoxo blah blah blah WHAT. THE. FUCK!?!?!
First of all, you've said nothing to me that warrants a response. Second, if you're a fan of mine you'll see that I don't engage in a lot of idle chit-chat, particularly the hi/good morning/waving/hugging/emoticons variety and if you have any reading comprehension you can see that I'm KIND OF overwhelmed, constantly talk about not having the time or energy for email, trying to keep my hours at the computer limited to a healthy number and use that time productively, etc. How long would it take if I said "hi" or "good morning" or "YES! I fucking SEE you!!" to every single person I encountered online? I would have no fucking life and no time to respond to people who actually put a lot of thought and effort into writing to me.
So I blocked him on Twitter so I wouldn't be bombarded by his pleas for attention, but now he has the balls to make that comment on a blog entry that essentially says I've been feeling like shit and have barely had the energy to drag myself out of bed and now that I'm feeling better it will take awhile to catch up on everything. But listen; even if I were all caught up and had ample time on my hands, the last thing I would feel like doing is encouraging these incessant, self-absorbed, petulant guilt-trips seeking acknowledgment.
I really try to not be mean and to consider that even wonderful people have blind spots, bad habits, etc. Before I ream someone's ass I sometimes try to imagine the person might be borderline retarded or otherwise lack the skills or comprehension to function at a higher level; maybe all they know is that the internet is a friendly place where you can look at pretty girls and get them to say 'hi' to you. And seriously? There are a lot of pretty girls online who make that their sole job/function in life; collecting myspace friends, saying 'hi' and 'hugs' to everyone, making a name for themselves that way. BUT I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE GIRLS. Get it?
Honestly I try to just ignore this person and others like him (ex. No one's responded to my messages -- I guess no one loves me) because I don't have the time or mental capacity myself to discover a nice way to tell them to STOP ACTING LIKE CREEPY STALKERS (when they're not really even BEING particularly creepy or stalkerish, just obnoxious) and understand that from my perspective I just feel bombarded by people who want think they deserve to have me interrupt my life to instant message them. I don't care if it's only two letters. H. I. Obviously it won't stop there. Next it will be "what's up? Do you like me? How's the weather?"
You wanted my feedback? You've got it, fucker. Try to see things from other people's perspectives. I don't *expect* people to waste their personal time empathizing with me or reading my long-ass blog posts, but if you send me hundreds of messages asking ME to waste my time on YOU, especially by begging for warm fucking fuzzies in the comments on a post where I admitted I felt like I was losing my fucking mind, you've got another thing coming.
An appropriate comment from him would have been, "wow -- I'm so sorry I've been sending you guilt-riddled whiny-posts on virtually every social networking site where you appear asking you to respond to NOTHING when you obviously have a lot of other things going on. What was I thinking?" Or, "man, I know what mental illness is like because I am compelled to pester women online; now we finally have something in common we can talk about if you ever have time; 'til then I totally understand if you don't want respond to me. I mean, sheesh -- if you did that to everyone your whole twitter feed would be, @wanker hi!, @dipshit hi! @asshat I see you there, bugging me! Boy, that would be silly! I'm so sorry for thinking only of myself."
If you're a true fan of mine it should be obvious that my JOB is not to sit around sending individuals empty messages of bullshit for free to verify to you that you exist. Find another way to add meaning and affirmation to your life because your current method is insulting and dehumanizing; I'm not a fucking robot or video game where you press buttons on your keyboards and I do a little puppet dance or a doll with a string on her back that you pull to get her to say one of eight pre-determined messages. I like you! Thanks for being my fan! You're number one! Good morning, sunshine!
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarf!! Seriously, I do not want to insult everyone who sends me thoughtful messages, shares themselves with me, wants me to know they appreciate what I do, etc. What I'm complaining about is a very particular brand of bullshit that fuels the empty "interaction" passing for "socialization" online. It's gross. A total waste of time. Say hi once or twice to me this way if you want, but don't incessantly needle me to respond. I was going to say, "don't needle me to reciprocate" but if reciprocity is what you want, THIS IS IT. Complete and utter selfishness. My little wants and desires trumping yours. I would send virtually the same message every day: Send me ten dollars, please? Hi it's me, Trixie -- still awaiting your dollars. I found you again! When WILL you join my site? It's Friday. Write back with the dollars. Even five would be nice. Say good morning to a good girl with seven dollars? Hello. Do you get these? If so respond with fifteen dollars. Your friend online, needing your dollars. Actually, that would make a billion times better sense than what he's doing, but it would still be way too boring and time-consuming for me to enjoy. I don't want to do data entry, I want to do MY. WORK.
And tweet about picking my nose and pooping. These witticisms don't grow on trees, so don't interrupt me! I'm trying to fucking THINK.
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)
I decided to experiment with having auburn hair & a tiny bit of blonde foiled into my brunette. It's not really as bright as it looks in the picture, but it's still remarkably different from what I usually ask for. Brunette still trumps all, though, so I'll be going darker/less red again next time around though I'll definitely trust my new hair girl to do whatever she thinks is best (which she says is another foil adding in low lights of mahogany).
I do think the auburn suits me a lot better than blonde ever did and looks better with my skin, but it still doesn't feel like "me" the way dark brown does or even blonde did at times or the way I imagine silver/grey will in the future.
In other boring facelift blabbering, I shaved off my armpit hair and the pubes on my thighs and labia, and I'm in the process of picking out some new eyeglass frames; it's tough, because there are a lot of them I like and I would love to wear glasses more often (the ones I have now are an old prescription so I don't see perfectly with them). To make choosing easier, I'm fairly limited in options because of the strength/thickness of my lenses. No wire frames, squared-off or open-bottomed styles for near-sighted, astigmatic Trixie.
That's all I have time to blog about right now; I've got period cramps and a lot of stuff to do (editing photos and videos we shot this week and building promos that NEED to be done asap) before the weekend when we have shows and chat scheduled. I'd also really like to take some time out to go see a movie.
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.
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:
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.
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.
Tonight's ending on a very positive note that could even be viewed as a metaphor for other things going on in our lives; we finally installed a second hard drive for storage on my main work machine so I'm moving big files off my weighted-down C drive. It feels like a fresh start! Right now I'm filling up some of that space by transferring non-work photos over to this machine so I can enjoy playing with shots we've taken for fun/to learn about our camera.
November 20th: a buck Delia spotted in our neighbor's backyard:
Our "new" camera (Nikon D300) has been therapeutic for me, making me stop and take time out to really LOOK and lose myself in details outside of myself. I'm not the kind of person who tries to capture EVERYTHING with a camera -- I definitely appreciate being in the moment with family, friends and on vacation -- but when we're at home (which is the same as being at work unless we make a really concerted effort for it not to be) doing the daily grind it's a big challenge for me to get out of my head. But now, when something mundane and beautiful captures my attention I feel justified in grabbing the camera, ostensibly to learn to take better photographs, and spending 5-20 minutes to really SEE and try to understand what I'm seeing: the light, the textures, the motion . . . challenging myself over what's real and not real because it can look so different viewed with my eyes compared to how it's captured by the camera. Immersing myself in all those different versions of truth and light and darkness and the stories we instantly create and details we insert after pulling them out of our asses when we think we're looking at our surroundings.
Looking out our window a few hours ago:
We actually bought three 500 GB hard drives months ago for three different machines and up until today, had only installed ONE of them because of little nuisances like not having Dell's annoying little drive "caddies", not having serial ATA cables with the 90 to 180 degree corner jobbies so the case will close properly, me despising crawling around on the floor fucking with all the cables and cords tangled around dust bunnies, etc. If you heard me screaming last night it was when I bashed my elbow into the corner of my desk during that process. Anyway, we finally took care of it and I ordered everything we need to install a couple more on other machines.
The past couple of days I had the alarm set for 8:30 in the morning to try to get us back into a groove of semi-normalcy; at least I *thought* I set the alarm for 8:30. Turns out I forgot to adjust the ipod when the time changed so we were actually being woken up at 7:30 which just didn't feel right. We'll try again tomorrow. Maybe I'll even start my day by going outside with the camera.
*Last night I enjoyed a conversation with my wanker in which I wasted lots of time raving about this Teddy Thompson fellow and a performance we saw on Later with Jools Holland. Here it is, and it slays me:
I've only downloaded one of his songs (a cover of "She Thinks I Still Care", one of my all-time faves) because there's no way I can narrow it down so I'm trying to hold out to be able to buy some of his albums, though I will probably download his cover of Leonard Cohen's "Tonight Will Be Fine":
While I let bigger (and possibly better) blog entries stew, here are a couple of images that might fall into the "bigger" and "better" categories:
In my last post I mentioned experiencing some bumpy emotions as I struggled to adjust my priorities and let go and cut back, at least temporarily, some stuff; in the days since that post I've emotionally adjusted, too. I now feel very content and optimistic about my new focus and happy to release myself of certain self-imposed obligations.
I'm being annoyingly vague, I know, but I just want to share that I feel happy and hopeful about my person(al life), relationships, business . . . where I'm/we're at and where I'm/we're going. It feels boringly repetitive to blog about them ("hasn't Trixie said this a million times in the past seven years?"), but periodic realignments are necessary in life; sometimes the adjustment process is stressfully turbulent (even when the changes are positive, like when the person you love stops drinking or when you're forced to recognize -- AGAIN -- that you aren't superhuman after forgetting since the LAST time you were faced with that conclusion) but once you get used to it a whole new field of possibilities emerges and there's . . . relief. And joy. And after some rest? New good things. More awesome. Progress made. Love shared. Delicious sappiness.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that things are good here!
A couple of samples from the gallery I just posted for members:
I don't think I'd feel like I need to lose fifteen pounds if we could afford for me to specialize in long line girdles and corsets.
Speaking of what we can/can't afford, I know that I need to cut some obligations out in order to have time to really tweak and market our sites appropriately. For some reason I'm having a really difficult time deciding which things I need to stop doing, at least temporarily. I've been freaking out a lot and feeling anxious/overwhelmed. I don't think my priorities are set in a way that's effective and it's hard for me to rearrange them and then accept that the things at the bottom will have to be trimmed off. I am trying to do it all (and have been for too many years) and it's just not working. I'm sucking at everything and not really focusing my best efforts on the things I'm actually GOOD at and the things that make the most money.
It's hard for me to let go.
One of the things I realized this month (besides that we NEED to take days off) is that we will have to 1) limit the number of miles we drive/trips we take each month and/or in rapid succession and 2) make sure visiting family doesn't get sidelined in that equation in favor of work or friends. It's not because of fuel costs, it's because we live so far away from everyone that the HOURS spent in the car NOT working (except to fuck up my back/body) cost too much, plus it breaks my heart going for such long stretches without seeing my nephew. I also had a major meltdown awhile back with extreme guilt over neglecting to visit my grandma in over a year. Long story short, I'm stressed out and tossing ideas around in my head to reduce that stress.
Eventually I am going to have to learn how to forgive myself for not being able to do everything, and allow myself to succeed working from a shorter/different to-do list.
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, O'Brien (cranky DS9, O'B) and Quark. Sprinkled with the annoyingly pompous, bossy, hypercritical, controlling, buttinsky loudness of Kira and Riker.
Yes, you *should* feel sorry for my friends and family.
Just a quick post to say that we have family visiting today and tomorrow so some of our cams and audio will be down. It's been too long since we've seen our nephew and we haven't even given my sister her present for her birthday which was a month ago. It's a hot pair of peeptoe sandals so in the back of my mind I'm hoping I can get a set of foot-focused pics out of her while she's wearing them, too. Is that so wrong? PROBABLY!
Some snaps of me from the last time we had company over:
My psychiatrist's office finally called back so I made an appointment to get back on Ritalin. I got a huge headache yesterday because I've been trying to use caffeine instead of prescription stimulants and caffeine? It's pure fucking evil. I don't have to consume much over the course of three or four days to suffer nasty consequences.
Even though I was almost totally out of commission yesterday with the headache, I did manage to write and post for members a sicko masturbation fantasy I had. I'm not sure if other people will jack off to it, but it's an interesting peek into the mind of a woman and how the threat of violence from men is a constantly disturbing companion that can't be safely separated from sex in our subconscious minds. Our brains are diseased with scary men.
I have $150 of my own spending money and am trying to decide which of these things at the top of my personal wants list are most worthy of it:
*a new microphone perfect for podcasting
*hiring a guy to make a logo for WebWhoreBucks.com so I can give the whole thing a facelift and a proud capitalist woman vibe
*use it all on massage and maybe exercise classes
I'm leaning towards massage (and maybe mental health care) because even though I *yearn* for those other things, taking care of my body fulfills my basic needs (and IS mental health care) better than those other things do which require follow-up effort to be truly useful. Buying massage is one of the few things I can do for myself that is really good for me, requires no effort on my part, and on top of all that is PLEASURABLE.
Mildly put, I'm having a really difficult time today. A lot of it is hormonal/PMS, a lot of it is just the normal difficulty I have as an ADD person in prioritizing overwhelming sets of to-do's, but some of it is specific stress over a few different circumstances that I overall feel hopeful about, but have been emotionally exhausting. My emotional resources are tapped out and my brain's really loud and jumbly.
To make part of a long story short, Delia's going Alcoholics Anonymous meetings now and I'm going to Alanon. It's a huge relief to me and I feel really positive about it. I feel like a lot of weight and isolation is being lifted from me. Still, there are residual effects of the stress I've/we've accumulated getting to this point and being in a number of transitions; I've cried a lot more than usual in the past week, which is awesome in some ways but just really fucking exhausting.
On top of that, we continue to be plagued by problems with our neighbors. Fortunately, the guy got thrown back into jail yesterday so we'll have a bit of a break from him, but the woman is probably more of a menace to us than he is. And the daughter? I just feel so fucking bad for her that she's one of the pains that I cried over recently.
Our main ISP where we have a business account tightened its spam filters and pretty much blocked us from sending any email from or referencing our porn domains through their outgoing mail servers; they were very helpful, professional, and non-accusatory, but ultimately I had to spend a lot of time on the phone for a couple of days to find a solution and get it working again. That time-suck piled on top of others makes me feel totally burned-out, like I can't get ahead. I know that's not true, I'm just feeling that way this week. It hasn't all been bad, and most of the time I feel happy, but my mood swings are extreme and the lows are really pathetic. I tried to get ahold of my psychiatrist that I haven't seen in five years or so, but he hasn't returned my messages. It would be a big help to get back on Ritalin so I could at least concentrate and get some work done without being totally scatterbrained, distracted, and wanting to rip out my overactive, inefficient brain. Just being able to sit down and work without little sounds like frogs croaking (which should be PLEASANT!) driving me to insanity would be a really huge help.
I can't stand hearing people go on and on all the time about all their problems that they always seem to be having, so I just hope that if you're reading this that you have enough context for my complaining to know I'm not defeated or just a pitiful slug of depression with no hope for the future, I'm just in a bumpy spot. I know it's nowhere near what other people have to deal with, and I wouldn't trade in my problems for other people's, but that doesn't mean I can pretend everything's totally smooth sailing for me right now. It's not the big things that are bothering me today -- I feel pretty excited (in good ways) about the big things -- it's the little things that are wearing me down. Like my mom calling to say that even though Grandma appreciates my letters, she'd rather I called. And that making me feel like I was smothering in a lead blanket of guilt that I will never have enough energy, time or detachment to throw off (it's impossible to talk to my grandma without the first thing out of her mouth being a passive-aggressive guilt trip; I thought I was fulfilling more than I'm capable of just to talk to my MOM on the phone four times in two days but I'm supposed to interrupt work to do more? YES!!!).
Then there's the world-is-out-to-get-me crap where you think everything is being aligned to stymie your efforts, like the library being closed for staff training the one day of the month you go out of your way to visit it, or water aerobics being canceled this week (JUST *this* week, they say!) when you made what felt like a herculean effort to go to the pool for the first time in fifteen years specifically for that because you really fucking need the exercise. And you know the whole modern cult-of-magnetization thinks you brought this shit on yourself . . . there ARE no coincidences and the world isn't out to sabotage you, YOU ARE DOING IT YOURSELF, but I have to calm down and remember that's both notions are a total fucking crock of shit and I just have to keep trying in spite of being annoyed that both facilities' online schedules were totally misleading!
I made the best of both situations. I'm a fucking winner. And I know it will get better. Probably when my period starts. And my girlfriend is making me eggs and bacon right now to remind me that my life is charmed, sweet, and I'm not in this all by myself. I get taken care of.
Here's a little insight into part of our work for those of you interested in how we get our photos from the camera to our porn site members and blogs:
Every time I post a tweet letting members/voyeurs know they're watching me at the computer "editing pics", I wonder if people are thinking, "what does that entail, anyway?" So here's the process (Delia does hers a little differently than I do, so I'm just saying what I do):
1) We transfer the image files from our camera to a computer where we store all of our full size, unedited image files. We use a usb cable rather than removing the card every time and using a card reader, which seems to be the more popular way that most people do it. Not us, though. I've always used the cable because a) it came with our cameras, but card readers did not, and b) I prefer to avoid handling our memory cards that often; I think it's better not to touch them and expose them to dust, etc. so the only time we remove our memory cards is if we're shooting away from home, fill up a card, and need to put in a new card to take pictures. Estimated time: 5-30 minutes depending on how many pics we took (usually 75-200 per set, and we often shoot multiple sets on one card); it definitely takes longer with our new camera since each pic is 4288x2848 pixels and around five to nine megabytes.
2) At this point we often take a look through the pictures to assess how we did and talk about why the look good or don't. You'll see us doing this with our heads tilting back and forth since pics we took as portraits are laying on their sides in landscape. Estimated time: varies between 2 and 30 minutes
3) We make COPIES of the original files and put them on our working machines. Estimated time: virtually none as long as we aren't having annoying network problems
4) I go through the photos and delete duplicates, ugly pics, pics with bad lighting, etc. Because our sites are homemade with an amateur appeal, I leave in a lot of "bad" pics because even the blurry ones and ones I think are unflattering usually have some redeeming quality (ex. my face looks bad, but my butt looks great, or the light is not technically excellent and the picture's not print-ready, but it still evokes a mood and helps tie the images together so there's some movement from one image to the next). Sometimes I do leave in poses that are nearly identical; the standards for porn sites are very different from artistic photography sites because we aren't trying to exhibit our very best PHOTOGRAPHY, we're trying to give people pictures to arouse them AND meet the quantity expectations porn review sites look for.
Very subtle differences in two like photos can make one jack-worthy to one person while the other is not. Let's say there's an image where I have an enticing expression on my face, but my feet are cut out of the frame. Then there's another nearly identical picture where I my double chin is highlighted, but my feet are all there and looking great. One guy who loves feet will be happy I included the ugly-face, feet-included pic, while another who doesn't care about feet will only be interested in my come-hither look in the other photo. That's why I leave in a lot of less-than-perfect and repetitious images. Still, I sometimes take a lot of time deciding whether or not to keep or toss pictures. Estimated time: 5-20 minutes
5) I open three photos at a time in Photoshop. I use a hotkey I've set up to rotate the image (if necessary) and another hotkey to resize the photo to my specifications. I look at each image more closely than before, adjusting levels to brighten them up if necessary, add more contrast, and adjust the color balance as needed; because we don't use a flash or tons of lights and we often rely on natural light or a combination, there's often a lot of variation in our photos even when we've taken all of them in one location. We might move in and out of different colors and levels of light so it does NOT work to apply a process on a whole batch of photos, I have to look at and edit each image individually.
I also use the bandaid tool to cover up zits or ingrown hairs sometimes. Sometimes I crop and size pictures more creatively if I need more close-ups or really need to get rid of some distraction in the picture to salvage something good about it. Very rarely I will apply filters (soft blur, etc.) to images or just fuck around seeing what those look like without committing to them. We *do not* change color photos into black and white using Photoshop, Well, hardly ever. Almost all of the black and white pictures on our sites were SHOT in black and white.
6) I save each picture WITHOUT optimizing them (making the file size smaller for web suitability) because I want to keep a copies of high quality edited versions of each photo since one picture might be used in a number of places in a number of ways. Sometimes I save duplicates of images I especially like in a "promo" folder at a different size with a border added that I use for posting in our blogs. I have a promo folder inside each edited gallery folder. Estimated time for steps five and six: 30-120 minutes
7) I go through the pictures again to see if there are more I want to delete.
8) Sometimes I rename files so that they will be presented in an order that makes better sense (move pictures we took in the middle to the beginning, etc.). Estimated time for steps seven and eight: 0-10 minutes
After all of that, I build the gallery which is another process entirely.
ESTIMATED TOTAL TIME SPENT ON THIS PROCESS FOR EACH GALLERY: 45 minutes to three and a half hours
I enjoy this process quite a bit (especially if I look halfway decent in the pictures) and appreciate taking the time to really SEE what were making. It's pleasurable, meditative, hot and it makes me feel productive. I also think it's important we do this work (and do it ourselves) because it teaches us what does and doesn't work with posing, lighting, camera settings, framing, etc.
Want to know more behind-the-scenes info regarding our pics? Check out this entry on how much one shoot cost: ARE OUR SHOOTS WORTH IT?
Tomorrow our friends Julia the Naughty Teacher and her photographer are coming over for a visit, which we're really looking forward to.
We won't be shooting, just hanging out and chatting; we really need the social time and they're willing to drive all the way out to our peninsula location so the least we can do is try to get our house to look less like a pig sty. It's getting late and we still have a lot of cleaning to do, so I decided to post a "no frills" version of The List (of all the people I've fucked) tonight along with a guest gallery from Julia, and will publish an additional, more detailed version of The List whenever I'm able to implant the first layer of augmentation in the form of details, links, and video commentary.
While Julia and her photographer are here some of our cams will be down so they will be comfortable. Then we are going to be gone on Thursday so Delia can make one last deposit at the sperm bank before she goes on hormones (we're taking a break from trying to conceive) and we'll also deliver a late birthday present to my sister. We'll also be gone part of Friday for Delia's laser appointment. Next week I'll be hosting hyperchat, though, so members will have many opportunities to hang out with me in chat.
VOYEURS: sorry about the PMS - I know it's not very relaxing to spy on someone screaming and swearing and scowling and barely managing to not throw, kick and break things, but that's life. I tried to treat it with exercise and got out of the house to blow off some steam; it helped a lot and I enjoyed it, but hormones are stubborn fuckers and I have to let loose before the next three days of interacting with others and/or being away from home where I *have* to control myself.
We're home from our three night beach trek and had a lovely time, even if we didn't get to see the meteor shower because we had almost continuous grey skies.
I'm not complaining about the greyness -- it was super relaxing with the white noise of the ocean paired with the visual fog.
Here's what we did: drove, ate mostly junk food, WALKED AND WALKED AND WALKED (to the point where our poor old dog was even tired out), shot a few sets of nudey pics, shot photos recreationally, "swam" (more like played in the water like kids letting the waves crash into us) and had a blast last night at the campground roasting hot dogs and marshmallows.
Here's what I did not do: sleep well.
All in all it was splendid.
Now? I'm pretty tired, but excited to be blogging in bed with MY NEW LAPTOP! I'm going to have to get Zone Alarm (or some other security software: recs anyone?) before I take it places away from home, but I'm super happy to finally have a machine I can blog and write on that's not a dinosaur or hooked up to cams (though it does have the built-in cam I still need to add/subtract a lot of software and stuff to this machine before I log it in anywhere). Anyway, it's romantic to finally have a laptop that I can use the way other people use theirs. I doubt you'll see me haunting coffee shops on a regular basis, but I like knowing I *could* quickly pack up and do some work or even hold chat sessions elsewhere for a change of pace.
I love the smell of new electronic gadgetry. Mmmmmm . . .
*a night of good sleep followed by a breakfast of cookies and tea
*putting a fresh, soft, wet, smooth pair of new contacts in my eyes
*listening to new age music (thank you Audio Visions) and stretching/rolling around in the dark. Balance balls are a fucking awesome invention!
*watching the episode of Northern Exposure where Satan comes to town in the form of a jacuzzi salesman with a pet goat
All of that makes me feel like I live in the lap of luxury.
Here's what I was working on last night and today: web-whore.com. It's not totally finished, but it needed to be done. Last night I just happened to be in the mood to doodle around with design ideas and was just playing with pretty colors and fonts (always fun, especially if you don't *have* to do it). After playing and closing out about 25 files/ideas for other sites, I returned to basic black, white and red and started on that, which leads me to another thing I'm thankful for: being able to fuck around and sometimes have it turn into something useful. I know it's nothing fancy, but you'd be surprised how hard it is (for me, anyway) to make something simple.
Also thankful for all my nice friends on twitter who gave me good/nice feedback on it. I like warm fuzzies and it really does help to get outside affirmation.
We're getting ready to head out this afternoon/evening and not come home until Sunday; we'll be at a local transgender conference where we're slotted to be on a panel tomorrow talking about issues couples have. Other than that, we just plan to have fun. I'm looking forward to spending time away from home/work, socializing, and eating out. We haven't eaten out in a whole entire month so it will be a treat.
Members/voyeurs: some or all of our cams could go down while we're gone but if our laptop cooperates we will have a cam up in our hotel room (though I don't expect we'll be spending much time in there unless my period starts and I'm in cramp-riddled agony). At this moment I'm trying to finish uploading some video for you; if all goes well I'll get it posted before we leave. It's not hardcore, but it's entertaining (if you are entertained by the same oddball things I am).
I'm in a funk right now, mostly owing to PMS. The weather has been a bit gloomy; even when it's sunny out there's a shadow of oppressive darkness hanging around. See how it's crushing our dog? Tiny purple weed flowers growing close to the ground. You don't even feel like stretching.
How about some movie-talk? We saw Iron Man. We went into it prepared for the bad aspects; it was a ridiculous blockbuster MOVIE-movie, and we needed that for the mindless entertainment factor. I loved the metal King Kong and the flying-against-the-fighter-jets scenes. It was nowhere near a V for Vendetta type of flick, but it's still special to see a big movie in the theater with a lefty storyline. One annoying detail sticks out in my mind above all others: armpits. Was it my imagination, or were his armpits shaved after supposed months in captivity? If so, gross. That's the epitome of a fucked-up dose of contemporary unreality.
I definitely think we should all thank our lucky stars Robert Downey Jr. got the title role instead of Cage or Cruise. He's been wank material for me since I was a teen watching Less Than Zero when James Spader made him get on his knees and suck some cock to pay for drugs. I so wish that scene was hardcore or even just a minute longer (since it wasn't I relied heavily upon the straight scenes for "inspiration"). I loved Secretary and all, but I'd really rather have seen a long redux of that interrupted BJ scene. Maybe this time it could have been Jake instead of Maggie joining RDJ to perform sweaty, tear-stained head on some large coked-up stallion. Robert, you STILL have the most lickable, greasy eyelids in film. And I will never forget the way you told us you were getting "chubby" in Shortcuts.
If you want a sense of what my days have been like lately, check here.
Here's the deal; I'm super tired, but feel like I can't let the week end without posting an entry here. Tons of blog entries in draft form that I can't seem to finish for one reason or another, so checking-in will have to do for now.
The week of my birthday (March 17th) I was working on aging and getting into a huge confrontation with my mom. The emotional fallout from that continues to plague me. It's nothing tragic or life-threatening, just cause for introspection and worry over how to apologize (if I even should) and if so, for which part. It's more complicated than that (while also being very pedestrian), but I'll leave it at that.
End of March, as you know, we discovered yet again that we're not pregnant . . . another non-life-threatening emotional drain.
April: have been working on many geeky projects to boost our income; site redesigns, etc. The only part of that we've actually finished is the members-only redesign of Delia's site, but it did suck up a lot of time and energy.
In general I've been leaning at a noticeable slant towards the asshole-end of my personality spectrum so this week I've done a few things to help me straighten up and fly right; we took almost a whole day off, yesterday I got a massage, and we've had a couple of outings involving strolling through town, walking the dog at dusk, and breathing fresh air.
I believe my main problem is hormonal; the longer I am off the pill, the more monstrous I feel and act. Of course, it could be the circumstances that are getting to me, but I honestly don't think that's the biggest part of the problem; I think my problem is chemical. Fortunately there are a lot of things I can do to help myself feel better: exercise, eat better, listen to music, stretch, get massage, go outside, decide how I want to feel and act and make that my real work every day, etc. Unfortunately? I'm not very disciplined with the food and exercise and really just want to be able to WORK-work without worrying about taking care of myself. It's ridiculous because I have so much freedom and flexibility, yet I can't seem to keep things in balance. I'm good at allowing myself plenty of time to daydream and as much sleep as I need, but I want to be better at regularly giving myself therapeutic physical pleasure: dancing, massage, breathing, stretching, crying, etc. Yeah, sex is in there too, but the other stuff is what I'm needing most, am most apt to neglect, and is most likely to lead to fucking when I get them in adequate quantities with regularity.
So. Long story short is that I've been having a bit of a hard time, and that I'd like to hold that craziness at arm's length because it really does seem alien to me, not because it's unfamiliar but because, from a rational perspective (and having been in this territory many times in my life), I just don't think these are my organic struggles -- I feel like they're thrust on me by the exaggerating effects of hormone fluctuations. It's like I can't even BELIEVE what I'm feeling except when I'm in the tightest grip of feeling shitty. I really believe I'm a happy person, and it frustrates me that something sometimes seems to be getting in the way of me FEELING and ACTING happy.
I'm not saying that deep inside me there's a bubbly cheerleader sort of happy person just waiting to get out, but I *am* a grateful, overjoyed-by-small-things and delighted-by-life happy person. I'm just depressed sometimes, too.
So. I'm not posting this to solicit pity or concern, just letting people know part of what's been going on with me. In the grand scheme of things it's not a big deal, not even to me, but I know a lot of people go through the same kinds of things and can relate. I'm working on it, I'm hopeful, and I don't want anyone to have the impression all has been a storm cloud of ugliness lately in my life when that's totally untrue. Today was like magic, in fact, and there have been buttloads of bright spots over the past month. It's just that a lot of life has been annoyingly peppered with little flecks of shit, know what I mean? It's like having the perfect mocha with what seems to be shavings of gorgeous chocolate, but after you take a sip you discover that those are actually grated remains of the petrified brains of Mad Cow Disease victims.
Sorry I haven't posted anything the past few days; all you've missed is a giant broiling vat of premenstrual syndrome symptoms. It's been almost seven weeks since my last period started. I'm guessing I probably didn't ovulate this cycle for whatever reason. And all of the pregnancy tests are negative. I mentioned I have really horrid PMS, too, right?
If you want to see a little of what my days have been like check out my Daily Trixie blog (imports all of my twitter posts from the previous day). I personally thinks it's quite readable, but that might just be my narcissism speaking.
I've got my second show of the day coming up in half an hour. My face is tear-stained because of afore-mentioned hormonal problems. Nothing to worry about, it's just what's going on for me.
Going to pick a big fucking dildo to use because those skinny ones do NOT cut it when I'm in a mood like this one. And if anyone in the chatroom prods me for DEEP penetration I will scream bloody murder. Look up "G-spot" and have your eyes opened, ye Philistines.
Right now I'm just pondering how much sex work is specifically about NOT fucking. What's the percentage, I wonder? I'm talking about situations where getting the money relies upon NOT putting out, but the interactions are still all about sex because they're all about not GETTING sex (sometimes by the customer's request and sometimes not).
Some of you won't know what I'm talking about. Others will know precisely and dozens of examples will spring to mind.
I've been very motivated and happily, busily doing my own bunches of happy, busy little things. I've been less-than ambitious, though, when it comes to accomplishing certain other things (exercise, housecleaning, personal hygiene). In other words, I'm doing some things well these days and other things not at all. I'm out of balance, but whatever. Tomorrow is my show day so I'll get all pretty for that, then on Sunday we'll watch the football game AND hang out in our chatroom the whole time so if you've been missing me in chat? Sunday during the game is your chance!
Because I'm always raving about the beautiful light and view we have, here is PART of our view of the Olympics:
We were hoping to shoot photos inside using exactly that southern light today, but it was actually all wrong and coming in at the wrong angle so my legs would have been in blaring bright light while my body and face would have been shadowed. We're going to wait and shoot with artificial light when the sun goes down. I wish our yard were as private as it looks in these photos, because we'd totally be shooting our asses off outside (snow on the "mountains" would be a great titty gallery):
When we had to scrap our daytime indoor shoot plans, we backed up to trying to go somewhere to shoot outside, but I had to scrap that plan, too; every outfit I tried on that included practical shoes (because it's icy outside even though the snow's almost all melted away) made me look like a bloated marshmallow. So we're just waiting to utilize the one tidy area we have in our house this evening and I am doing other work until the sun goes down. If our house were crystal clean we'd have more options, but ummmm . . . it's not. We'll have to work on that tomorrow or something.
Next on my redesign agenda is the REAL free area and this blog; I'm really disturbed by how much stuff is outdated, missing and/or broken on the free side of my site and how I've let it go this long. I'm also overwhelmed and really just tired of working on web design projects at this point. I feel really URGENT about finishing, weary about how long it takes me, and excited about the possibilities (yet depressed by my lack of skill and time in executing them). I feel like I can't do anything else until I am done with our overdue overhauls; I'm kind of going crazy.
I also just ordered some new video editing software; Delia used to edit our videos using premiere but the version we have is really old and I really didn't like using it myself so we switched to using good old, free, windows moviemaker. It's not great, but it's been efficient. Unfortunately it just doesn't do the trick for more ambitious projects, like my dollface video which we shot with two different cameras; just trying to insert an extra minute from another tape is pretty much impossible, requiring TEDIOUS amounts of cutting and pasting and trying to sync-up audio. It's a fucking nightmare. We're also way overdue on offering dvd's and videos formatted for ipods and the like. I ordered Pinnacle based on a rec from Torn who said it does everything well without being overwhelming to learn. I can't afford the price or the learning curve of Vegas, etc.
Okay, I'm late now on getting ready for the dentist. I need to shower and eat now before my mouth is rendered completely useless for hours.
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!
I'm also working on overhauling the free area of my site and eventually this blog so it takes advantage of the added space of larger displays and everything is, at the very least, color coordinated. Here's a peek at the unfinished "clean tour" (an alternative promotional design made especially for affiliates promoting the site who don't want any links to ANYTHING except the join page to maximize their chance of making a sale; the regular free area will look a little different and, of course, have lots of links leading off site).
After spending many hours on this on top of recently designing a site for my brother-in-law, I started feeling REALLY DISCOURAGED yesterday. Part of me really enjoys doing this kind of work (sometime after I get started and things start to come together to look pretty, but BEFORE I actually get SO SICK OF IT and SO AWARE OF MY LACK OF DESIGN ABILITIES that I never really wind up with a polished end result). At the end of all of my dogged and painstaking efforts, I still wind up with sites that look like that guy's pickup truck outfitted with the WRONG SIZE canopy. If my web designs were dresses on Project Runway I would be the one who'd get aufed for not hemming it. It just doesn't look FINISHED - it's poorly constructed! Did you just GLUE that seam together??
Part of me is pretty happy with my skill level as a webmaster; it's not really a job I even WANT to be *great* at; I'm proud of being mediocre. On the other hand, if I could stop time and take a month off to learn some of the things I don't know but WANT to know, I totally would. In a perfect (but realistic) world (where you can't actually stop time or don't have skill points like in a video game where you can buy yourself new abilities once you've proceeded far enough into the game) I would have the money to hire real webmasters and programmers to collaborate with and carry out my vision(s). I am damned fucking ready to arrive in that world so I need to work through my moments of impatience with myself and the necessity of doing these things myself so that I can get there. Eventually, I trust it will happen. I just need to work, work, work. And not scream at myself.
In the new incarnation of the free area of TastyTrixie.com I'm going to have a "help wanted" section with some specific jobs for people that I can currently barter for (example: someone installs back end scripts I don't want to muddle through on one of my sites, they get a free membership). I have realized with design, though, that I am *just* confident enough in myself that I prefer doing things in my own inefficient way if I'm not able to afford to pay someone to do things EXACTLY how I want them or guaranteed to be better than I imagined. One of my (not so good) personality traits is that I really don't like "wasting" time giving people positive feedback and being all touchy-feely; I do not make a nice boss. I just want to tell someone what to do, speak in an efficient manner about how to do it, be able to rely on it getting done on time, and not worry about someone's feelings getting hurt. I don't like having to invest a lot of emotional energy into getting something done. Knowing that, I just prefer to do things myself or to look forward to being able to compensate someone for doing them for me AND putting up with my bitch ass. When I am overwhelmed with things I want to do (work things), I sort of resent socializing. It feels like a depressing, energy-sucking obligation which is why I usually steer clear of barter arrangements and such -- the social aspect of making the arrangement and the give/take do not appeal to me. I would rather just fumble through something myself than have to, like, TALK to someone.
We started watching Touching the Void while we ate lunch yesterday and I'm just trying to remind myself that if those fuckers could get off that motherfucking mountain alive, there's no excuse for me whining and crying over what I have left to do to make our sites look more presentable.
Now I am going to get some exercise, take a shower and go get my feet rubbed and toenails painted. I need to get out of my head. Later we're going to try to do a couple of shoots. Tomorrow we're going to the fertility clinic for Delia's last sperm deposit and I'll probably make an appointment to try to find out if something inside me is preventing me from getting pregnant (my period just started yesterday, by the way).
Not too great, but I have good excuses: I still have a cold and yesterday had to get cavities filled; it sucks to have to keep your mouth open while you're congested and someone fills your mouth with sharp metal implements, cotton, juices, and powdered teeth. None of these things can be bonafide as horrible, but they're just bad enough that I feel pathetic and in need of comfort from warm, sloppy attire and TV. Since it's also *possible* (but unconfirmable at this point) that I'm pregnant, I don't want to take more than some Tylenol and plain one-ingredient Robitussin.
Anyway, we HAD to watch the tube last night to enjoy coverage of the Iowa caucuses. We both cried watching and listening to Obama. I hope (nay, I PRAY) he'll win. At the very least he'd be a President we can see and hear without mass quantities of people wanting to rip their ears off and gouge out their eyes just to stop THE PAIN from entering their brains.
I know my simplistic perspective on this will sicken some of my readers, but I seriously believe what matters most is that our next president is someone who leads our spirits and inspires us. I'm tired of being depressed. We need someone to restore our faith on a whole bunch of levels and he totally does it for me.
Barack is THE ONE. I look forward to him winning more than I ever looked forward to losing my virginity.
One of the best gifts I could ever get for Christmas is a job well done: work I am happy to look at and share with other people. For this shoot I got to dress up in snowy ice queen garb, all while enjoying our fabulous pink tree. I got to incorporate three things I've had tucked away in hiding far too long: the silvery Diab'less leopard-print coat I paid "too much" for (and now must insist that I wear instead of leaving it hanging unloved in the closet for months on end), long PVC gloves and those whorey bosslady heels. And I am in LOVE with how pale my skin is to the point of looking bluish:
I'm especially thankful for Delia who not only takes my pictures and all that jazz, but puts up with my bullshit. She was really tired yesterday but got everything set up for the shoot AND endured me freaking out because I couldn't find my black waist cincher and insisted she go look for it amongst her own garb. Of course, it was in one of MY drawers, exactly where I first looked for it; I just didn't dig quite deep enough. My hissy fit could have cast a pall over the entire operation, but instead I wound up having a grand time and we captured a great set of photos to share with our members for Christmas. Yay!
I made a lot of appointments this week to take care of things we've been neglecting. We both got our hair done (roots be gone!) AND went to the dentist. Neither of us has been in over five years; we've given our dog better dental attention than ourselves. I shouldn't be surprised, but I have a whole bunch of cavities that need to be filled. Once upon a time I was obsessive about brushing my teeth (I think I only had one tiny cavity/filling until I was out of high school) but not so much anymore; our estimate for work needed is over three thousand dollars between the two of us.
I also used some of my personal webwhore earnings to get not one, but TWO massages. I found the most promising (yet least expensive) advertised therapists and gave them a whirl that was WELL worth the $100 I spent for 2.5 hours of blissful therapeutic touch. More on that later, though. I'm going to take a bath, then put the finishing touches on this gallery for members.
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.
My apologies for not finishing any of my five hundred blog drafts. And apologies for this particular post not being anything you will want to read, seriously.
I'm a little tense, feeling like I'm falling down on my job(s). Not getting everything done or really much of anything lately. I'm feeling a little emotionally drained from the family emergencies and some of the "feelings" it dredges up with me -- my role, who I am in the family; I'm always the one who lives far away and works too much. My mom lives alone so having her break her arm to the point of requiring surgery and an overnight hospital stay is a pretty big thing, especially when it then falls on my sister's shoulders to drive her around and take care of her after she JUST had her appendix taken out in emergency surgery herself, and has a barfing baby and husband to take care of, too. it's a real triple whammy. I tell myself I shouldn't waste my free ticket by getting stressed out over things I can't help, but it's happening anyway. There's been some other stressful stuff going on too, but it's a little too personal to go into right now.
Needless to say, the Thanksgiving I was so looking forward to has to be postponed.
At least I'm doing a good job with my exercise goal this week, having gone three days in a row and will go on Thanksgiving too to meet my goal. I am in such poor shape that my body is pretty tired, though; I need a few more consistent gym days to get to that point where I have MORE energy instead of LESS after exercising.
When I went out to "take care of" my sister over the weekend, I saw she'd purchased the Lord of the Rings dvd set. She said it was her five pound(s lost) reward to herself. I said "huh" to myself, and realize that I do a very totally fucking shitty job of rewarding myself when I finish things. I'm great at making lists, halfway great at checking them off, but I totally drop the ball on the reward/pat-self-on-back step. I imagine that I do congratulate myself and give myself internal warm fuzzies, but they only last half a second and then I'm already choking up on fifty other listed tasks/goals/whatevers I want to get on to. Taking time and energy for proper praise and reward seem so inefficient to me!
It's not that I deprive myself of happy treats and moments of luxury, I just don't take the little bit of extra effort to TIE treating myself to finishing something or meeting goals. I'm going to try to do that more often. Today I decided that whenever I manage to talk to my mom on the phone, I'm going to reward myself with 15-30 minutes on the Playstation (I hate talking to my mom on the phone). I also decided I'm going to give myself a fucking break and allow myself to focus on this exercise task this week and be proud of myself for meeting my gym goal REGARDLESS OF WHAT OTHER THINGS I DON'T GET DONE. My health is pretty fucking important, and seeing what my mom and sister are going through with their own hospital visits really should bring that home to me, especially considering they have insurance and I don't. What could be more important than me taking care of my body?
We also met our goal of not watching tv today. My natural reaction to that statement is that meeting the goal should be its own reward, but then I think I'm slacking again by not really patting myself on the back harder over it.
I'm going to go stretch and hit the mattress. Hard.
Well, we *were* going to go to a wild sex party. And not at one of those poorly-decorated swinger pads, (aka Why I am not a Swinger) either. This event is at a hip hotel (in a city requiring about eight hours each way of travel time for us) with an informed-Goth theme and many creatively nerdy/sexy rules and themed play areas. FYI: Delia and I have never gone to a wild sex party together. Yes, we're pornographers and all, but we're almost completely hermitlike and monogamous. We aren't deeply committed to being so solitary, we're just homebodies and it happens to work out that way; too lazy to fuck other people, it seems.
We were actually looking forward to this party, though, which is why we decided to go against our better judgment. It wasn't the whips, potential sex with strangers, or squirting bodily fluids worrying us . . . it was Who's going to take care of the dog while we're out of state? Is our house going to be okay while we're gone with our dumb-ass neighbor's thieving, abusive boyfriend right next door casing the joint? Can we really afford to take a trip, even a small one, right now? How are we going to make up for taking time off when we also have Delia's sperm deposit appointment in Seattle next week? Are we going to be able to enjoy Delia's birthday/Halloween with all of this time and money spent away? Is my period going to start while we're there? If not, am I going to be suffering so horribly from PMS that I'm an absolute horror to be around? How are four people going to get ready for a costume party in one bathroom?
So we changed our minds and decided to stay home. I feel really badly about it because our friends Torn and Toni invited us and upgraded their room to make a place for us to stay. I like to think I'm a person who guiltlessly says "no", but I think I'm deceiving myself about that because I often do feel anxious about turning down opportunities. I can't let myself feel TOO badly about it, though, because I know I'm making the right decision. Still, I'm always afraid people are going to stop asking us to do things because a) I rarely say yes, and b) I act like THIS regardless.
A big obstacle for me right now in making social time happen is that spending time with my family is a higher priority, and I haven't seen my nephew this entire month; I hate that I'm missing seeing him grow and change. I also haven't seen my mom who is leaving Friday on a trip to Austin and going to be gone for a couple of weeks. And I haven't finished building my brother-in-law's website. As you may have gathered from this post, I really REALLY want to spend more time with my family, so while it's still a challenge to spend lots of time with them, I have a hard time justifying taking trips and time off to not spend time with them.
I also have come to accept something about myself; while I do love people and spending time with them, it's hardly ever "time off" for me. In fact, it tires me out. If I'm going to spend a day with people, I usually need to spend the day after by myself/just with Delia, vegging out to recuperate. Time off, for me, means limiting stimuli. Reading, spacing out, and umm, even doing work is usually more like time off for me than socializing. If I don't recuperate from socializing, I'm pretty fucking useless and next week? We just won't have time to laze around mending my hyperextended social muscles.
I'm also getting really frustrated with our baby-making "project"; my energy feels really preoccupied with that and focused on limiting distractions. I seriously don't know how much longer I can handle being off the pill (or not pumped up on femme pregnancy hormones), because my PMS is sinking me to low points I'd rather not scrape.
So, our plans have changed for this weekend. We *will* still be gone Friday night and perhaps much of Saturday to visit my sister/nephew/brother-in-law since we won't just be using it as a launching pad for party travel. I'm going to keep my shows canceled and use that time to plan Halloween and Delia's birthday or, an alternate plan is that we'll rent a room Sunday night to do some shooting. We'll see what happens. Maybe I'll just lie on the couch in a PMS funk.
Today we have to do some shooting. I feel anxious and depressed and it sucks, but not so bad that I don't realize it will pass.
As some of you know, I've become addicted to twitter as a mini-blogging tool, a way to see what my colleagues and buddies are doing, and method of letting friends, fans and members know what *I* am doing.
It's also had the adverse effect of reducing my real blog time; my compulsion to blog about the daily and mundane has dwindled so it seems like I'm neglecting my blog for days on end. Here's a sample of daily posts that will cure the problem (from now on 24 hours of my tweets will automatically post at 3:30 in the morning, Pacific, every night):
Fair warning: I tend to tweet about pooping a lot. Oh, and I would love to see more of my blog buddies, fellow webwhores and fans on twitter. I don't like it for sending messages or engaging in mini-conversations, though, I prefer to use it in a more voyeuristic way. Here's my profile if you want to follow me or see what some of my buddies are twittering about.
17:15 Capturing video. Feeling stiff and exhausted for no reason whatsoever. Thinking I need some fresh air. #
18:00 Dizzy. Delia's fixing dinner. Searching online for plugin to make members contents indexed, categorized & searchable w/o major overhaul. #
19:38 Still dizzy & also nauseous now. Have to get ready for news flash. Really just want to sleep. #
20:08 Ugh. Got up for nothing; there's a glitch with my rude shows-I start my cam, wait in chat, no one comes in & I find I'm not on schedule. #
21:25 In the immortal words of Hank Williams, I'm so bloated I could die. Taking my fat ass back to bed with a book. SO MANY books, I *love*! #
01:34 A midtown Manhattan craiglister stole a Delia pic for his personal ad. Oh well, he left her url on it so I guess it's free advertising! #
10:43 Going to have some alone time with breakfast, then get ready for my show. Then DO my show. #
I know I already have the twitter "badge" in my sidebar so maybe this is redundant, but I don't like the way the flash badge doesn't have hyperlinks, messes up formatting, and seems to not have the most recent tweet displayed.
To say that I'm really fond of the gallery we just shot would be an understatement. Sample:
I can't wait to edit these pics and post them for members. It's also one hell of a beautiful day, which makes shooting a great pleasure:
Beautiful or not, it's still fall and getting pretty nippy out. Delia's fingers were really cold by the time we got done, and she endured a lot in between lying on the soggy ground to get certain shots and listening to me harangue her about how I wanted her to shoot them.
It's pretty much dinnertime here, so Delia's deviling some eggs -- I can't wait to gobble them up! Later we'll take another stab at babymaking, viewable/audible to members on our spycams, of course. I'm actually lurking in our chatroom right now in case anyone feels like popping in, but so far no one has so I'll keep editing pics until my hunger interferes too much.
"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.
We'll be gone the next couple of days/nights shooting in a local place, which means we'll drive home a few times a day to let the dog out. We won't be responding to email, though, and our cams could drop off (but there won't really be anything to see anyway since we won't be home).
Keep your fingers crossed that we'll both be photogenic and so will the rooms! I'm going to finish packing now and then we'll be gone.
There is almost nothing more satisfying than dislodging and extricating a long, tough, thick booger that's had its heels set in for a week. When you can feel the tug deep inside your nostril, way back in your brain and you hope that it will just keep coming, like a series of magician's hankies coming out of a hat. That *pulling* sensation that makes you wish you could see what all of this looks like inside. It's extremely fulfilling on a visceral level and makes you think about all of the magical potential trapped deep inside your tubes and wires. It tickles so good.
Tonight I discovered something almost as fun: dislodging pipe clogs using CLR Power Plumber (the video is SO delightful!). Here's how it works: "CLR Power Plumber is a compressed gas. When the formula in the can is released and comes in contact with water in your drain, it expands rapidly, creating a standing wave. It uses the water in your pipe as a battering ram pushing the blockage through and cleaning the walls of your pipes."
Our bathroom sink has been clogged or at least draining slowly for the past whole-entire-time-we've-lived-here. After staring at standing water in the sink all day today, Delia decided to give CLR a try and asked for my assistance in covering one of two holes. On the first plunge, I could hear the magic happening and drainage beginning. On the second plunge I got really excited. On the third plunge I was so distracted with anticipation that I didn't keep the overflow hole firmly covered and dirty, muddy water sprayed all over the bathroom; it was orgasmic!! And the sink began to drain!! It was all over much too quickly. I actually had fun wiping the diarrhea-like spatter from the walls.
I enjoyed it so much I watched the video/advertisement on their site and continued to think about this marvelous experience. I thought about how much I love seeing clogged-pipe graphics and videos in commercials where they have those clear pipes and you can SEE the problem being dislodged and whisked away. I know I sound over-enthused about this, but honestly, doesn't the sight of see-through pipes with problems being solved appeal to everyone on some strangely primitive level? I don't know what it is exactly, but it's hypnotic, reassuring, and bizarrely exciting. I suppose anything that reminds us subliminally of pooping and orgasm are just naturally appealing and gratifying.
I think I know what I'm getting everyone for Christmas . . . .
Last week we revived our backyard spycam for members. We don't have it on the highest-quality spycam site so it's not as pretty as before, but you can still see the time of day and weather we're experiencing in our world and even the moon (a circle of white in a field of darkness accompanied by a reflection of the light from the webcam in the window; note: photo above is NOT from our spycam).
Last night we spent some time in bed together holding hands with the lights off and the curtains open, just staring up at the clouds and fog passing between us and the moon and listening to a soundtrack of spacey new age music (I'll give a link to my iMix when I get it), breathing deeply and eventually falling asleep. We have a pretty fucking awesome view from our bed, I must say.
I've been off the pill for about four months now; am I imagining that my body hair is thicker and more expansive than before? Seriously, my pits, pubes and facial hair seem a whole lot thicker and spread farther afield than while I was on birth control. Does anybody know if that is a normal thing to have happen when you stop taking the pill?
Hormones and gender are on my mind a lot these days because of Delia being in the process of transition and about to go on female hormones herself. It's made me think more about my own gender identity and question things I might otherwise take for granted, like the simple process of my own hair growth. I'm not a very hairy person, but I am quite a bit hairier than my mom and sister. My facial hair isn't dark or noticeable, but I have a lot of blonde fuzz on my face, to the point where it shocks people when the light hits it just right and they see how much of it there is. It makes me wonder how much of my differences from my mom and sister is a different mix of genetic traits and how much of it is a different blend of hormones.
Speaking of hormones, I'm in the midst of my third whirl with PMS since going off the pill (so no, we're not yet pregnant). I *really* miss my steady diet of hormones and am having a relatively difficult time without them. I don't just suffer for a week -- no, my mood swings, depression, and murderous impulses dog me for (what feels like) weeks in an exhaustingly unpredictable manner. I can reassure you that it's not every moment of every day (hence the unpredictability) and life is sweet and peachy in so many ways, but overall I'm having a pretty hard time. It could be worse, I know, but I'd like it to be better. An example of my out-of-whack emotions: my eyes filled with tears last night when the clouds thickened enough to completely blot out our view of the moonlight. I would have started sobbing uncontrollably if not for worrying that Delia and our voyeurs would think I was crazy.
Tomorrow (Tuesday) morning I'm going to be in the chatroom if you feel like keeping each other company. Here's our schedule if you want more details.
How come? Because my one year old nephew has been here since Wednesday and we just took him back home today. While he was here he was our sun and we revolved completely around him.
Speaking of great spheres in the sky worth worshiping, we're hoping to catch the lunar eclipse tonight. I might have to catch up on some sleep before that, though, and set an alarm to wake up for it because I'm exhausted.
I probably don't need to mention it, but I've not written or responded to any email in about a week unless it was urgent. We'll get back into the groove tomorrow, though, AND all of our cams and audio are back up now that Mr. Squishypants is no longer in residence.
Yesterday I accidentally spoke my legal name (first AND last) aloud over our spycams when I forgot to turn the audio off before making a phone call. Fittingly, the phone call was to our cable company in hopes of fattening our internet pipe so that we can broadcast MORE spycams, faster (so people can overhear even more of the goings-on in our house).
FYI: though I'm not super-uptight about a few voyeurs knowing my legal names, it's not an invitation for people who know me as Trixie to address me as anything other than Trixie (or "Trix" OR even "stupid ugly cunthole" - even that would be preferable to people puncturing my webwhore bubble by assuming a level of familiarity I've not expressly solicited). There are actually quite a few members, past and present, who know my "real" name, and they've done a great job of earning my trust by respecting that Trixie is my chosen name for my webwhore-related interactions.
Having said that, there *have* been a couple of times where people used my birth name online to put me in an uncomfortable place trying to show me that they knew something they weren't supposed to. It was like they wanted me to know I couldn't get away with "fooling" them. Also, there have been people who are hell-bent on knowing my "real" name, repeatedly trying to drag it out of me; anyone who seems to think he NEEDS to know my birth name is someone I don't want to have that information. For one thing, "Trixie" is just as real a name to me as the one my parents gave me because I gave mySELF this name. I really detest anyone who acts like the name I gave myself is inherently fake or phony. Plus, someone who doggedly refuses to acknowledge the importance of having a stage name just for privacy's sake in this industry is someone I don't want to deal with -- they are the people who give whores good reason to protect their identities and keep them separate from their family lives.
Someone trying to convince me to tell him my real name once tried to appeal to my sense of fairness by saying, "but if I join your site, then you'll know *MY* name and personal information so I should know yours, too!" Wow -- and by his logic, when he joins my site and gets to see and hear inside MY HOME, it would only be fair for me to see and hear inside HIS home. Using his rationale I would apparently be justified in using the name and address associated with his credit card to go to his house and spy on him and his family and maybe google his name to find out where he works since, after all, he gets to spy on ME while I am working, right?
Of course not. That way of thinking is ALL WRONG. Anyway, the product I sell isn't "fairness" -- it's FANTASY. Sure, I pride myself on offering a more authentic and less fictionalized version of the porn fantasy, but I don't enter into a reciprocal relationship with my customers. It's not like, "you show me your credit card, I'll show you mine." No, it's an exchange and I set the terms. If private information like my birth name were to be for sale, I would SELL it as such. For like, five million dollars since it would pretty much be a one-time deal because anyone who thinks that information is too juicy for me to deserve to keep it under wraps would probably post it all over the internet anyway and I wouldn't be able to sell that information again. And because I would want to make the point that YES, I DO think my private information is worth more than yours, and if you're hell bent on stalking me to get more out of me than I offer professionally, you owe me the kind of money that will afford bodyguards, a nice home security system and a really lovely arsenal.
It's not that I don't understand being curious and it's not that I think that kind of curiosity is pathologically dangerous -- it's not the curiosity that bothers me, it's the disrespect shown in trying to SATISFY that curiosity. In the example of the guy who thought that since I could look up his real name in my system that he should get to know mine, it's like he was trying to take me down a peg by getting me to say something like, "gosh, you're right! What, do I think I'm *better* than you? No, I'm just an untrustworthy whore trying to exploit you with my fake identity and shouldn't be trusted with your personal information without handing over an even more literal pound of flesh than the ones on display in my members-area. Who do I think I am, using my fraudulent porn persona to extract your personal information? Before you waste twenty dollars to see my life's work since 2002 I need to make sure we're even-Steven and I've been properly subjugated by your superior will."These guys with their sense of entitlement scare me, but not enough that I won't confirm their worst nightmare: YES, I NOT ONLY *THINK* I AM BETTER THAN YOU, I *KNOW* THAT I AM BETTER THAN YOU. How do I know? By your horribly ill-mannered invasiveness, that's how I know. Oh, and I ALSO KNOW THAT THE VAST MAJORITY OF MY CUSTOMERS ARE BETTER THAN YOU, TOO, BECAUSE THEY DON'T PESTER ME IN THIS SOCIALLY RETARDED MANNER AND EVEN IF THEY DO KNOW SOME OF MY "SECRETS" THEY DON'T TRY TO RUB MY NOSE IN IT.
T I D B I T S
*Good news: Nico (our dog) doesn't have a tumor; she had weed seeds that burrowed into her skin and became infected and swollen. Apparently this is a fairly common thing that happens to outside-dogs in the summer. The vet extracted the little buggers and prescribed some antibiotics, so all is well!
*Good news: I recently lost a few pounds. Bad news: I think I lost them off of my boobs. I guess that's what happens when you go off the pill.
*We bought a new printer last week and I still haven't had a chance to figure out where to put it or even just unpack it and smell it's new-machine smell. It's a photo printer, so maybe now we'll be able to sell 8x10's (there seems to be a niche demand for autographed 8x10's of webwhores, fyi).
We half-planned to do a nudie shoot in the moonlight last night, but scrapped that in favor of cuddling and going to sleep much earlier than we would have if we'd have trekked somewhere to shoot. Also, I wanted to have as much energy as possible for my planned-at-the-last-minute trip to Seattle today to help celebrate my sister's birthday. Delia's not coming with me since Cedar and I are going to spend the majority of our day at a spa. Not just any spa, either; I intend to use all of their hot rooms and hot pools to the full extent of their heat-giving capacities before I get pregnant since I won't be allowed to steam or sauna or hot-tub it once I'm "with child" (or rapidly dividing cells or whatever).
Anyway, I think I'm going to try to set aside as many days surrounding the full moon next month as possible for shooting, and try not to have any distractions heaped up on those days. Even with it being July, the wind can be biting here in the middle of the night so if we ARE going to get some nude or partially nude moonlight sets, we only have a couple of months to do it without it being too cold to be fun. Also, we don't really know what we're doing in terms of taking the pictures and having them actually turn out, so I can't really count on being able to use any of the pictures anyway.
I'll be back home either tonight (late) or (probably) tomorrow. Must get as much squishy nephew cuddling as possible. Maybe being around the cutest one-year-old in the whole wide world will boost my fertility.
Tonight I decided to follow-up this post by taking more pictures at the same time of night (about nine) in the same place (our backyard). It started sprinkling as I shot these:
You can tell by the way the trees lean that we live in a windy place:
She probably wishes I'd brush her instead of taking her picture. It's July, after all, and she's shedding a lot.
I woke up this morning with a foul PMS temper and went to the gym with a headache, but felt better afterwards. I even had a splendid two-orgasm show. Following that, I got some crap at McDonald's, some Little Schoolboy cookies, and a celebrity gossip magazine. I felt guilty about crawling into bed to enjoy those things, and even guiltier about extending my afternoon laze-around junkfood fest for what seemed like a really long time. I stopped feeling guilty, though, when I looked at my Twitter and realized I AM NOT A LAZY ASS. It's perfectly normal and okay for a person to relax and eat crap on a Friday afternoon for a few hours.
After I came to that realization I actually felt invigorated, happy, and focused (might have been the caffeine in the extra-dark chocolate on the Little Schoolboys). Since then I've gotten a lot of housework and photo editing done. I haven't responded to any email that's been stacking up, but whatever.
It's almost midnight, but I'm still looking forward to making some dinner.
I stepped outside tonight, just after eight nine, to a perfect July fog. The air was warm and damp, like it had healing powers better than anything in an asthmatic's nebulizer.
It's been steamy, even with rain the past two nights. For the past week or two we've slept with the window cracked and a fan sucking in cool air from outside, and, speaking of asthma, all sorts of allergens. I've been sneezing a lot more than usual.
The dog and I bring in sharp little weed seeds that cling to my pants and her fur. She rubs against the side of our bed and deposits them on the flannel sheets. I think I should spend tomorrow's twilight on the deck, slowly pulling seeds off of my pant legs. One by one. Extracting their barbs from my fuzzy socks, being nebulized.
It's funny to me, taking pictures. These don't look like tonight. They certainly don't SMELL like tonight. They're one good thing, and being there was another; I'm not sure if I look at these ten years from now if I'll remember the truth of the air's density and the way the skin on my face and hands was breathing for me.
You know how much I love being inside, in bed or in front of a glowing monitor. Maybe because I do spend so much time indoors it's easy for me to be lured away by damp layers of fog and dense natural light. I feel like I could be happier with less trying, wading in waves of dying July weeds.
Then again, I love coming back inside and savoring the memory of it, trying to preserve it because I always need help remembering how to breathe, not trying so hard.
Tomorrow we're going to be gone during the day - therapy, you know. I think I'll post my update tomorrow instead of tonight. For one thing, I had my heart set on shooting a "muffin top" gallery. I'd never heard of the term until we saw that commercial for I don't know what, and I thought it was so cute (and have always thought these "muffin tops" are cute regardless of what other people seem to think about the flesh spillage) that I wanted to take pictures of my own.
It turns out I don't have a fluffy muffin top.
Except in the front -- I'm very bakery in the front but on the sides and in the back? There's no good overflow, which is where I wanted it to be. SO sad. Using the elliptical machine with the arm-thingies seems to have pared down my sides and backphat so most of what I'm left with is concentrated exactly in my paunchy gut. I might have realized sooner I'm not a muffin top girl, but I hardly ever wear my jeans because they're uncomfortable BECAUSE my gut is so disproportionately distended. Whatever. Better luck with the next idea.
I woke up early yesterday to pee, only to step into a puddle; it was raining, and our bathroom floor covered with water. We have a leak somewhere on the roof that trickles down into the fan and seeps out around the edges (we never use the fan, fyi). After that discovery I had a difficult time falling back to sleep, but when I did? Sex dreams.
I dreamt I was extremely aroused and licking my own pussy. I wasn't contorting or anything, it's just like my vulva was detached and right in front of my face, like a photo spread come to life. I greatly enjoyed sucking on my clit, except that it was much smaller than it is in real life; at the crest of the hood there was barely any bump, but whatever -- I couldn't get enough of it. It seems I'd trimmed more than usual, too, so there were quarter-inch blonde whiskers making slightly prickly feelings on my mouth. I had an orgasm or more.
Wondering whether or not I'm pregnant? If so, READ THIS.
It's a lovely day, both foggy and rainy. I'm looking forward to taking a shower and doing a shoot or two of some kind, then posting my members-only update (probably much later tonight). I'm not sure if I'll post whatever we shoot today, or pull something older out of the stash. I also have some self-sucking pics to post in the Trixie's Houseboy members-only area, but those may have to wait until later to go up.
Since we added another spycam site to our lineup and a couple of new SPLENDID webcams adding two new views of our bedroom, I have felt a LOT less stressed out. With three camsites to rely upon, I feel much less concerned about what our members will think if one of them takes a temporary dive (as the one we've come to rely upon the most has been doing too often). I feel much more relaxed knowing there are seven+ awesome live plugins on our sites for members (SpyOnYou, VoyeurBrazil, HouseCamz, Rude Houses, SexCamCentral, AmateurCamz, and Rude Shows).
I know that sounds like a big fat advertisement. That's because it IS a big fat advertisement, but only secondarily. The main reason I'm mentioning it is because this is a journal, and I feel really happy about the new stuff (and maintained old stuff) on our sites. More than anything else on our sites, I tend to stress out about the spycams because they're an around-the-clock obligation. Anytime we add more spycams or get greater stability or more access to other people's cams for our members it makes me VERY HAPPY. The more live content we offer, the more I feel a cozy buffer between me and "fucking up". It's like an airbag; if there's an emergency or an accident and I don't do a great job with one aspect of our sites or if one of the sites we appear on goes down then there's a safety net of all this other stuff to keep members happy. Sure, I know that's not enough for everyone and I know we can always do *more*, but in terms of my own sense of anxiety and accomplishment I feel a lot "more better" lately about our sites and less compelled to be checking the cams constantly or ripping my hair out when I discover some of them are down. It's just a huge relief for me.
I don't work well in heat. Living in western Washington state my entire life I've not had to deal with it much, but when it does come around I prefer to sit it out. Like most people who aren't rich in the Seattle area, I've never lived in a house or apartment with air conditioning because it's so unnecessary most of the time. But when it *is* hot? That feeling of walking on molten shag carpet is pretty scary.
I honestly think my office and our bedroom are the two most impossibly steamy-hot rooms in our house, bringing my productivity to a parched crawl. Right now it's actually cooling down outside, but those two rooms just RETAIN the heat like blowtorch-equipped cuntholes.
I know I've nothing to complain about compared to people who live in other places like Vegas or Detroit or even people who live in Seattle proper or my hometown which don't have the kind of saltwater breezes we get here in PT. But sheesh, I *could* be pregnant, and that means I'm practically ENCOURAGED to gripe about the giant sweat stains underneath my floppy mammoth boobs with their gigantic pancake-sized areolas ringed by bluish-purple borders.
Wish I felt like blogging about something meaningful, but I don't. Wish I felt like stretching, but I don't.
Here are a couple of posts you might have missed over at the Fertile Trixie Blog:
I've been spending a lot of time "populating" the various areas of my Rude profile, like my store where I've got some ridiculously priced stuff for sale and my customs area which I haven't finished because I look too sweat-drenched to make teaser-content so I've just been filling out the prices, descriptions and photos. I'm going hog-wild on that site for a couple of reasons: one, they have a contest starting soon where all of the "producers" are entered into a drawing for a minicooper provided we've met all of the requirements (hence my "store", which I might never have taken advantage of if not for wanting to meet this requirement). Two, I actually really like a ton of things about the site.
There are a few things that have been overlooked (example: adding the option for users to identify as a different gender than male or female) but overall the level of attention to detail serving surfers, consumers *and* providers is really unprecedented. I have been on so many MANY sites over the years, and most of them are really good at one or two things, but totally lacking in others. Rude honestly is trying to be extremely good at just about *everything* you could want in a sexy interactive website. This is the only site I've seen that is user-friendly for people who want to DABBLE in hosting spycams and posting photos and videos of themselves *and* promo-friendly for people like us who are trying to make a living at those things. There's a rich range of both free content and for-pay content, plus this could be the solution panty girls and panty fans have been looking for to be able to buy and sell used panties. Sweet! Of course, I'll stick with selling my used bubblegum and leave the panty stuff to people who actually like wearing sticky panties for days on end, but it's nice to have a reputable site to procure such heavenly-scented items.
Sorry for the lack of posts lately; things have been hectic, but I *have* been keeping everyone (you included) posted by twittering a lot. If you want to know my latest movements (and you're not watching our potty cam, haha), then that's the place to see what the fuck is occupying me that doesn't happen to be blogging.
So yeah -- if you want to know what will be consuming most of our day today, check my twitter profile (or look for the latest update from it in the sidebar and keep refreshing).
We just got home from a very long excursion to my nephew's birthday party. We spent more time in the car driving and waiting for ferries than we did visiting. It was worth it, though, and most of the drive was beautiful.
Here's what I've been working on instead of blogging. It's nothing fancy yet, but then free porn giveaways traditionally haven't needed to be too fancy to be . . . inviting. I'm working on making it a tiny bit flashier (and coated with my personality) but right now I love the variety of porn on there. I'm particularly proud of the tantalizing descriptions I wrote to describe each of the galleries. I've also "tested" many of the video clips and photo sets myself to make sure they are completely satisfactory. Not all of them are, but the ones that ARE work very well (for me, at least).
We've had a full day today, but nothing too exciting except for my CLIT THROBBING LIKE AN ANGRY CARTOON THUMB THAT'S BEEN BLUDGEONED BY A HAMMER.
Seriously, my pussy has been on red alert (and with my period starting today I mean that in more ways than one). It's really been achingly demanding. Last night at the movie for the whole first hour all I could think about was how much I wished Delia could reach over and give me a handjob. As far as the movie went, all of my excitement was over Calypso and Davy Jones. Orlando and Kiera make me want to barf -- what was up with that body double for the closing thigh-worship scene? Fucking lame.
Here are the boring details of our day:
*went to the gym *got my period *posted to that blog and this one and moved little things around in the sidebar *checked stats *wrote back and forth with Kris *researched stuff for the pregnancy site *watched an episode of The Deadliest Catch while we ate lunch (one of the few meals I'll step up to the stove to cook: fried eggs, turkey bacon and toast) *did dishes, laundry and other cleanup *grocery shopped *watched another episode of The Deadliest Catch while we ate dinner (Delia took care of this one: a delicious garlicky quinoa concoction with stir-fried shiitake mushrooms) *shot photos and video of Tucker *tried to follow along with some instructional bellydance dvd's *walked the dog together at dusk
It's been a full day for me considering that I only got around seven hours of sleep which is usually not nearly enough for me. I've enjoyed the entire day, though, and now am looking forward to climbing into bed with some toast to watch So You Think You Can Dance and going to sleep.
If someone knows how to put stuff (like my borane [borane = boring+mundane] what-i-did-today bullshit) behind a cut using blogger so it doesn't soak up the brain cells of people who'd rather not waste them reading such trivia, I'd love to hear how.
Voyeurs: if you saw me masturbating yesterday and wondered what I was reading to fan the flames, it was a little porn-story-magazine thingy featuring guy-on-guy sex. With lots of really good drawings of gigantic cocks surrounded by sensuous big lips, horny sailors, etc.
And if you saw us fucking yesterday and wondered what was on the television that was so damned erotic, it was Notes on a Scandal. Note: I am not one of those people who romanticizes or excuses real life women (especially teachers) who fuck young boys, particularly not Mary Kay Letourneau, but that's a subject for a different blog entry. Aside from the naughty hot sex scenes, I loved the wicked narration from Judi Dench's deliciously evil character. She was like a combination of John Malkovich and Glenn Close in Dangerous Liaisons, Snape, and Patricia Highsmith's Ripley all rolled into one nasty bit of work.
I know we're supposed to be critical of portrayals of lesbians and older women and women in general as scary unhinged monsters, but I love and celebrate Barbara Covett and her fiendishly manipulative pursuit of female companionship and sexual pleasure. She made me hot -- best movie villain I've seen in a long time.
After my show today I spent most of my time working on a new website; I'll give you more details on that tomorrow or Tuesday. I've also been really sleepy even though I got eight hours of sleep; I needed to take a couple of naps today, probably because I got no exercise yesterday as I spent many splendid hours in bed (see above) masturbating, reading and fucking.
You know you're not that young anymore when, in looking for hairstyle/color inspiration, you spot Kirstie Alley on the cover of Good Housekeeping and buy that to bring to your hairdresser for your next 'do. And she makes fun of you for it.
Anyway, I didn't quite get enough blonde back in so I'm considering today's foil a subtle first stage in going back to blonde. I'm sitting in an empty chatroom; I think the voyeurs are afraid to come in and tell me they can't compliment my refreshed hair. Don't worry though, it only looks bad because I took a nap on it and didn't style it myself yet.
Speaking of housekeeping, we continue to care about doing some little special cleaning or improvement each day. Yesterday we spruced up our bedroom a little by bringing in a different lamp with really warm, pretty light and buying a couple of pretty pots to use as bookends. Today Delia divided and tended to an old snake plant from our parlour and put some of it in each bookend pot so now we have green things in our bedroom. It's nice. That's an understatement. Every blogged expression of my happiness is an understatement. Multiply "nice" by a billion.
Life here is surprisingly simple and peaceful considering the multitude of supposedly tumultuous changes we're moving towards. We had some hot sex yesterday shooting pictures and video for my members. The iPod Nano Tucker gave me for my birthday (it was a total surprise gift; I thought the Sports Illustrated with Beyonce in it was present enough!) continues to delight the fuck out of me and makes going to the gym fun and more than bearable. Too bad I have a hard time hauling my ass out of bed in time to go with Tucker/Delia.
I seriously do have "real" blog entries to write, but this will have to do for today.
Not much time to blog, so here's the rundown of events:
Yesterday we went to Delia's therapist for the first time (and kind of mine, too, since we're doing a lot of it as a couple, so I guess she is OUR therapist, which is very cool). I'm really excited about her and looking forward to Delia's next appointment next week. The biggest coolest thing about Dr. P is her sex positivity, and her positivity in general; she doesn't approach things in a "let's figure out what's wrong and broken with you and try to fix it" but more of a "let's figure out what you want to celebrate about yourselves and in life and make that happen". That's a cheesy and shallow sounding summary, but I'm really happy to be seeing her and EXTREMELY RELIEVED that she's not only okay with sex work, but seems to think it's fucking awesome. She's a little unconventional as a counselor in her willingness to express congratulations and "good for you" messages, but that coachy/mentor vibe is something I really like. I came away from the first visit with lots of blog fodder, so I hope to follow up on a few of those ideas later.
After the appointment with Dr. P we brought a jar of change to a store with a Coinstar machine that does a straight no-fee exchange if you get an Amazon gift certificate instead of cash (thanks, Matisse, for letting your readers know about that; fyi everyone: not every coinstar machine has that capability so you should look it up on their site before you get too excited). We got exactly enough money to buy exactly what we need: an electric water kettle (and thanks to MY readers who tipped me off that such things exist and are splendid). Now that Delia stopped drinking coffee and switched to green tea it will benefit both of us. Anyway, I had WAY too much fun feeding the coins into the machine and listening to them being sorted in its guts. It felt like Christmas with the best new toy in the world -- I totally love shit like that.
Today we went to Delia's first laser hair removal appointment and did a little bit of book shopping. We've been cleaning house since we got home and really enjoying it; we are gradually improving our housekeeping habits and I'm starting to love it. The washer and dryer help a lot, and tonight the coolest part about cleaning up has been using it as a time to really look at and appreciate the things we have. Since we're not in a hurry for visitors to come over and are just tidying for fun, I am really SEEING the things I'm touching, and I'm feeling blessed noticing how much cool stuff I have. I have pretty socks and pretty dresses and pretty colors and pretty books and interesting magazines and pretty jewelry and things that smell good and pretty shiny things. In a tiny red box we have our wedding rings from our previous marriages nestled next to each other. They are pretty and special.
Anyway, it's been a long couple of days with a lot of time spent on the road so we're going to watch some television and have some quiet time before I come back into my office to work on my update for members.
Yay -- a few hours of relative silence and solitude; Delia and my sister are going to see a drive-in movie, my mom and nephew just went to bed, and the dogs are quiet so I'm going to spend some time by myself in bed with books, clean pajamas and perhaps some new age music. Because I'm a dork like that. I'm sad to miss seeing Spiderman 3 in a drive-in, but I know I won't be able to concentrate; having company for days on end means my ability to pay attention to things is totally shot to hell and I just can't hack the thought of being in a field surrounded by people and their noises and the smells from their cars and their movements bouncing around in my peripheral vision.
Delia made a lovely dinner of deviled eggs and gazpacho tonight for all of us. Earlier today while my mom and sister were out hiking with her dog and Mr. SquishyPants, Delia and I had a "meeting" to talk about our goals and plans for the sites, shooting, budgeting, etc. We should do that more often.
Tomorrow (Sunday) I have a group webcam show at noon (pacific) and will be putting my nose back down to the grindstone since we'll be alone in the house again. Delia also has a group show tomorrow and will be available for private shows, too. We'll also be on the road a little next week since we are going out of town for Delia's laser hair removal and her first appointment with her psychologist who will be helping during her transition from male to female. I am excited to meet the psychologist, too.
My sister and almost-one-year-old nephew are here visiting, which is splendid in many ways. For one thing, it gets me out of my routine and out of my head, spending more time outside with people I love and (on a more trivial level) using muscles for good purpose (ex. pushing the baby in his stroller up a steep hill and on the beach; it's difficult to push a stroller through sand, fyi). Part of me feels calmer when they're here, and another part of me is sort of stressed out and nervous just from having people around with different agendas and noises and expectations; I feel tired and can't concentrate enough to do really basic things or remember why I decided to walk from one room into another.
Delia is about to grill some salmon and portobello mushrooms for our dinner and then my mom is going to come out, partly to babysit so we "kids" can go out and be rowdy, but I actually feel exhausted right now (as I often do after socializing) like I'd rather spend the night quietly in bed.
It's windy here, but blue-skied. Lying on a blanket on the beach was great this afternoon, but got a little too blustery to stick around more than an hour.
My update is going to be late (posting tomorrow rather than today) so here's a little something to make it up to you:
How To Make An Origami Vagina:
Of course, I don't need to tell you that's actually an origami VULVA, not a vagina, right? Anycooch, it's a really hot and kinky video so I hope you enjoy watching it as much as I did.
It feels like it's been a really long day which started with going to the gym where I poured more sweat into my "workout" than usual (still barely qualifies as a "workout", but whatever) and then we had to drive to suburbia for Delia's laser hair removal consultation where I was tempted by the allure of Botox (but I did not give in, but only because it's a luxury we can't afford).
It was actually HOT today! Well, in the eighties, anyway, which is considered HOT in my book, and actually TOO DAMNED HOT in shopping mall parking lots. The drive was sublime and we took the long way home to enjoy the weather with our windows rolled down. If this is a foretaste of what's to come this summer, though, I'm going to be bitchy. I actually have a slightly sunburned face from our outdoor sushi lunch yesterday. This is why night people were invented . . .
Looks like the spycam site is down for the count (I imagine they are doing server work and it will be back up soon; if not I will call them). Very annoying.
I'm devoting a lot of time today to housecleaning; it's one of those things I can't find inspiration to do consistently so eventually it builds up to the point where I can't stand being surrounded by rubble and messy chaos anymore. Today is that day.
Delia and I must have caught a bug; I've got a sore throat and hardly ever get sick so other than housecleaning and posting my update I'm not sure I'll accomplish much today (though cleaning the house is a MAJOR undertaking).
Oh, we *are* going to enjoy a dork dance session on our spycams this evening if you want to watch/listen. Of course, that will rely upon the spycam site COOPERATING. Grrrrr . . .
Tomorrow we're going to Seattle to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew, Mr. Squishy-Pants. I'm looking forward to it and must INSIST that my body heal itself and not carry any sickness across the sound.
*Yay! I got my updated credit report today with one derogatory item DELETED since I finally invested the time to write a stupid letter about it (leftover ex-husband stuff; I am so lazy about these things -- so lazy, in fact, I'd probably still be married to him on paper if he hadn't taken the initiative to file the papers; too bad he wasn't as proactive about paying his credit card bills).
*After spending a whole wonderful week away from home and work I was able this morning to pinpoint with clarity a couple of the things that really drain my energy. Number one is the problems we're having with the spycam site we're exhibiting on and the connection instability we've had there for about six months now. It is the worst feeling to greet the day by finding out that your spycams are inexplicably disconnected and you have, in effect, failed to deliver on a promise you've made to your customers. Number two is our freewheeling unscheduled approach to each day; while there are benefits to doing whatever you want WHENEVER you want, it's aggravating and inefficient when you want to do whatever you want WHENEVER you want WITH YOUR PARTNER. I can see now how much of an annoyance and energy-drain it is to me when we interrupt each other in our offices and decide spontaneously we want to do something (eat, go to the gym, go for a walk) when the other person isn't ready for that and HAS NO IDEA WHEN THEY WILL BE. I don't know how much it affects Tucker, but contrasting how relaxed I felt last week with the nuisance factor of today back at home I'm thinking it would be good for us to commit to more of a schedule.
We just got home after being gone for a week. Delia is cooking up a pot of lentil soup for us to enjoy while we catch up on Idol and ANTM before rampant spoilers ruin the surprises and I think I need a nap before jumping back into the swing of webwhoring.
I feel relaxed and focused on more positive, personal and less trivial things than before this trip. In general it was a good reminder of what's important in life: being happy and sharing that happiness with the people you love.
I know, it's totally cheesy. I'll write less hokey and more detailed stuff later.
Good: Tucker spied a washer and dryer for sale for $50. With luck we'll be laundering every dirty thing on the premises by midnight. This could signal the return of pee to my group shows.
Bad: Doing a group camshow and seeing your stepdad's nickname in the list of viewers. While it's incredibly unlikely that it's him, it's still really fucking unpleasant and a serious obstacle to enjoying masturbating.
Ugly (but in the best possible way): John Malkovich in Colour Me Kubrick. Adorably ugly -- it's such a perfect role for him, so manipulatively sexual and totally silly. I love movies about people who are totally full of shit. FYI: I didn't for a second think the word "ugly" while watching the movie, but I needed something that would fit the bill for ugly and this actually works. And I really just think a lot of you would love this film if you haven't already seen it. It's actually only ugly in a sort of Grey Gardens way that's half repellent and half motherfucking inspiring as in, "I want to be grandly removed from reality and take everyone with me while wearing fabulously wacky ensembles assembled from the rubbish bins of rich people."
The bad and the ugly of this entry both make me feel like escaping certain elements of my "job" that make me feel trapped, bored and invaded. While doing these free group shows is great, the nature of the internet porn business just gets nastier and nastier; to make a decent living starting from scratch you practically HAVE to give tons of stuff away for free.
As I mentioned in my last vlog, these hour-long explicit camshows we do are now broadcast for free on sites where ANYONE can get access without paying a nickle, without sacrificing even a nugget of their own personal information, without proving they're over eighteen, and without demonstrating that they have or will ever pay for porn. I don't blame people for eating up free porn and enjoying these sites, I just don't want to supply everyone in the known universe with my time and such a high level of interaction and intimate access to me and my body.
But. Even though I don't WANT to do it I've sort of resigned myself to it for the time being because there ARE benefits to doing it and right now, no good alternatives. I've dealt with this type of exposure before (namely when the guy hosting our spycams decided to build a site with my name and give our cams away for free to get as many people as possible to get them to download his spyware; not only a sucky thing to have your name attached to, but a really invasive free-for-all inviting people into our home on a virtual basis that basically horrified me). It didn't kill me, though, and in the end when the site was shut down I did make money off of it when the people shut out from those cams joined my site to get access to them again. The benefits were measurable (being able to offer high quality spycams and getting paid to do so while also getting exposure without any advertising effort on my part) and the costs were really all psychological (big deal! Suck it up! You'll live! So what?).
Over the years I've weighed the psychological costs with the monetary benefits and have concluded every single time that it's worth it. Yes, I abhor the system which has developed in internet porn with tiers of pimp-web"masters" degrading the value of our pussies and pocketing greater and greater chunks of the profits while competing with one another to give more and more and MORE away for free (making it less and less and LESS necessary for surfers to join our sites to get their jollies), but that's the way it is now; the only way to avoid it is to get out of the business or deal with it long enough that you can afford to create alternative advertising and live-interaction platforms . For the record, I don't begrudge *individuals* the money we pay them to pimp us out just like I don't begrudge individuals access to our free shows as long as they're available. I don't blame anybody for making money off of it and enjoying it while they can (and we have been supported and enjoyed the company of many viewers who would never have found us if not for us appearing on those free sites). It's just a fucked up network of bullshit that whores allow to continue to operate because it's easy, we're lazy, and we can't get our shit together enough to take over the infrastructure ourselves and ditch the profiteers we've come to rely upon for their cam networks and such. We'd rather bitch and whine about it and honestly, it's embarrassing. It embarrasses me that I allow myself to be emotionally affected by it when instead I could buck up, work harder, and make enough money to create solutions where I would not have to relinquish so much control and exclusivity. But god, I do think it's incredibly degrading to be sexually exposed so cheaply. Sexually exposed is fine as long as I am compensated or it's a private and consensual thing. Sexually exposed FOR FREE just sickens me. It tears at the fibres of my value system. A few still images here and there, a video clip every so often, or even a live teaser . . . that's okay. Being able to speak to me, see inside my home, or time your orgasm to happen with mine in real life FOR FREE? I'm opposed to that. It's ridiculous that we chicks have the cunts but we still roll over and let pimps invite thousands of surfers to fuck them dry FOR. FREE. Some of the chicks with cunts have learned that there's more money to be made pimping out other chicks than there is trying to reign in the free-for-all atmosphere; with good reason, they'd rather invest their money in creating more advertisement jungles that suck in surfers with the opportunity to see hardcore live action FOR FREE without adequately compensating the performers or focusing on motivating surfers in any meaningful way to pay the performers. Once surfers get their fill of the devalued live content, the site owners know a profitable percentage of their hoardes of mostly-freeloaders will click on ads for stuff they haven't just gotten for free. Middle-aged woman hungry for love settles for gang bang instead. Lonely girls just want to chat and please you. The site owners make their money on clicks, joins, and even just flying banners and text ads for other FREE sites.
I started camming seven years ago right as the internet porn industry and pay-for-play camming began to be more competitive. As more and more people have gotten online and web savvy, our earning potential should have grown with the traffic increases regardless of new webwhores coming onto the scene, but instead the web has just been glutted with more and more free porn. Instead of competing with other paysites, we have to compete with the people who give our shit away for free (and I'm not talking about people who write lovely reviews or thoughtful blog entries and link to a few free galleries, I'm talking about people who spam search engines with our names, insert their affiliate codes, and redirect that traffic to our sites in order to make 50% off of the sales they essentially stole from us, just as one filthy example, or the cam networks that lease their feeds which consist of our live shows to people who then give them away for free and then take a 50% cut of the few measly sales we make doing those shows; it adds up to more for them, but less for us -- they lessen the sales potential of porn in one fell swoop by giving so much away for free and in that same instant capture a hefty portion of all of the decreased sales that are left).
Oh, I know there are people out there who think free porn is such a lovely thing and gosh, I agree it sure is delightful but in the same way cheap shit at Walmart is delightful and toys made in China are delightful; you have to know that someone, somewhere is being underpaid and overworked in hostile, unhealthy conditions while some men are getting fat and rich off of exploiting their sweet young Chinese asses. You're getting your bargain and consumption-for-cheap, but at what cost to the people who actually do the sweating to provide the goods?
I'll say it again, though: enjoy it while you can. My intention isn't to alienate those who provide exposure for our sites or to alienate those who don't need to (or can't afford) to pay to enjoy us, it's to vent and provide some perspective on the costs of being a webwhore. While it sounds like I'm bitching about the financial costs, I'm really not: with hard work we can still make plenty of money to be very happy and satisfied. What I'm bitching about is that a lot of that hard work is EMOTIONAL and it really doesn't have to be this way . . . it just is. There is an emotional cost for me realizing that hundreds of thousands of people have seen inside my home and had the opportunity to say hideous things to me while watching me stick vibrating things into my holes. I can hear them now saying, "Didn't you know tons of people would see you naked when you got into this?". No, actually -- I didn't. Not when I got into it seven years ago because it wasn't like this. Or at least I assumed that if I were to be exposed to this many people on a regular basis, I would have sales to match. It disgusts me to be surprisingly well-known, recognizable, and enjoyed by so many over the years but not be rich. Seriously, it's totally backwards -- I have no desire to be famous if I'm not going to be rich, too. You should stop doing this if it bothers you so much! Like I've always said, I have no problem with being a whore -- I just have a problem with being a CHEAP whore. I've got no problem with buttloads of people having seen me in compromising positions; my problem is that they got to do so FOR FREE. If you put on a better show, more people would join your site -- maybe you're just too mean and old and ugly to convert that traffic into sales! Entirely possible. I could indeed be a better salesgirl during my shows but then I'd feel like an even cheaper whore if I tried harder. Anyway, you're deluded if you think it would make a real difference; I honestly think that the more you "please" the crowd in the camshows with smiles, pleasantries, cuteness, and hardcore, the less likely they are to join. Instead they just come faster, leave, and forget you and your site sooner. If you're not an amazing beauty I genuinely think the best way to get people to remember you is to piss them off. No, the way to make more sales isn't through shows anymore which have become so easily accessible in such great numbers for such extended lengths of time so as to make them pathetically worthless, it's through the pimp-web"masters". With the industry the way it is now, it's pretty unrealistic to try to make money without them (and honestly, I am actually proud to be able to reward the vast majority of folks who promote us).
I feel now like I need to defend all of this off-putting money talk. I've figured it out in my head and you make more money than *I* do!, I hear them say. Actually, you're probably not figuring in all of our expenses, but so what -- after seven years in this industry, I do indeed make more money than a lot of people who generously support us. And those people probably make more money than large villages in Indonesia. Everybody makes more money than somebody else . . . there's always someone who has got it worse. What I care about is whether I make enough AS A SEX WORKER. As a woman, part of a group of people (other women!) who should have a corner on this pussy market. As a person who is at risk to be targeted by the federal government for obscenity prosecution resulting in prison time and the seizure of ALL ASSETS resulting from pornography, am I adequately compensated? As a person who is vulnerable to the possibility of having relatives have free anonymous access to explicit sex shows she is performing, am I adequately compensated? As a person whose earning potential will decrease with age, am I earning enough to compensate me for the lack of longevity one can expect to enjoy in this field, particularly when you consider that once you've been a sex worker and there is any record or public knowledge of it you will be barred from a number of other jobs (teaching, for example -- the profession you studied for in college)? These unique factors must be considered when assessing whether or not a webwhore is making a suitable amount of money. Call me crazy, but I think whores should not just be adequately paid, they should be WELL PAID. They should earn enviable amounts of money, even the mediocre ones. As it is in the internet porn industry, however, a girl can make massively more money PROMOTING her corporate-created paysite as an affiliate than she can by being the model in the photos and videos and doing a weekly camshow. That's not how I want whores to be treated. Not at all.
If I didn't feel certain that we can make more money in the future, I'd have to say it's not worth it. I would give it up and just be a web pimp instead of a webwhore. Actually, in some ways that's what I'm doing since Delia's site makes twice as much money as mine does. There are definitely things that ROCK about webwhoring, stuff I ignored to make this ranting post, but I seriously do not think it's worth it, to be at the point where you are recognized as Trixie at the grocery store by strangers who have seen your vagina but you can't even afford health insurance. That's totally bass-ackwards. Again, I recognize that I could be making more money -- could HAVE been making more money all along by working longer hours, sleeping less, worrying less, enjoying the freedom of self-employment less, getting hypnotherapy to prevent myself from feeling even the slightest sting from being naked and reading text scroll across a screen saying, "SHE IS AS UGLY AS A SLOTH AND GOT HER PUSSY IT TOO HAIRY FOR THIS DAY AND AGE, GET A RAZER YOU SKANK". Seriously, I'm well-suited to this career and can put that shit into perspective and even enjoy it sometimes (because I don't find slothfulness or a lack of hygienic modernity all that insulting and the idea of someone razing me is pretty funny) *but* I'd have to be a psycho if I didn't notice it at all or get frustrated or assess the damage and ask myself if it's worth it.
The answer, as always, is that it IS worth it. For the past seven years, it has been worth it. And fuck, I can't think of anything that would make it worth it to quit. I assure you in my most sincere white trash fashion that IF I WERE TO WIN THE LOTTERY I would keep on webwhoring. I would not give it up. Because I *do* love it. I love making blog entries like this and then worrying about how it might upset or confuse someone. I love the challenges. I (especially, perhaps primarily) love the freedom. I love the possibilities. I am addicted to the uncertainty. Sometimes, though, I do feel burned out.
When I watched Colour Me Kubrick I was jealous. Because sometimes I feel like my commitment to our sites and exposing so much of myself has left so little time and energy for me to be a liar. To pretend for a week to be someone else. While faking a persona was never my approach to camming or phone sex, sometimes it was requested and it was always POSSIBLE, the opportunity to be a total whack-job other-person. Now with the spycams and the layers and layers of exposure on our sites, in my blogs, and on the camsites I feel not only that there is no place for me to hide, but there is no room for me to PRETEND. When I did one-on-ones, especially phone sex, I was giddy with the possibilities. Talking to one person and one person only, with no one to overhear, I could be wearing anything I could be doing anything I could be an absolute FREAK. Oh, the dirty things I have done on the phone! But now, with so many people watching and knowing me I feel like I can only be me. My most authentic self. And, worst of all, my BEST self. Me at my best. And I never am (or perhaps my best just isn't very good).
I feel like if we keep at this and actually DO do our best, in a couple of years I may not have the freedom to go places without being TRIXIE. All of the time, pressure to be the best Trixie I can be even though sometimes I just want to dress up in green socks, pink slippers, a grubby caftan with sequins falling off and a turban sitting askew on my head and go swishing about town with a long cigarette holder, ashing everywhere and never actually smoking, affecting ridiculous accents.
There is a sexual component to this train of thought that's been dogging me for the past month or six, but I'll save that for another entry or perhaps a confession for members only.
I'm doing a show today at noon (pacific), then Delia has her show at 4 pm as usual and will be webwhoring after that. If we're lucky, Camz won't still be having technical problems the way they were on Friday and our shows will go off without any hitches.
We decided to move our Tuesday shows to Sunday and Monday to open up the week for travel and shoots; during nice weather it SUCKS to go anywhere on the weekend around here, especially when you're at the mercy of overstuffed ferry boats, as we are. Being able to plan trips for Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday (rather than extending things onto horrible-for-travel Friday) is WAY better.
I do have more interesting and exciting things to blog about, but it's the mundane stuff that has me in its clutches. My big accomplishment yesterday was editing video and writing a letter of dispute on a credit issue. I also started working on a new design for Trixie.com, but I don't know if it's "sexy" enough. I don't even know for sure what I'm trying to accomplish there and am a little paralyzed by uncertainty and lack of resources so I'm going to try to convince myself to just have fun with it. So far I am not very receptive to that reality-show advice, though.
Last night we wasted all kinds of time watching horrible Discovery channel shows about people with facial deformities.
The best thing we did yesterday? Bought spices for lentil soup.
We left our downed-connection at home and drove over forty miles (over 80 round) to the nearest Best Buy so we could get a MiniDV camcorder head cleaner; our videos have been coming out with some bizarre chirps and bleeps and wacky messy visual disturbances and it took me a few months to realize it's probably because the heads are dirty. I'm not so smart about those things. Too bad I just spent hours downloading six videos the other day and will have to redo at least some of them to reap the benefits of the newly cleaned heads.
Speaking of head cleaner, my return to Ritalin has been treating me well. I do feel like I need to post a status report for voyeurs so they'll know when I'm medicated and when I'm not (because my behavior IS noticeably different) since I don't have enough of a stash right now to take it consistently and have no idea when I'll get an appointment with a doctor (I left a voicemail with my psychiatrist yesterday but then I pushed the wrong button and have no idea if I actually saved/sent the message) PLUS I have no intention of taking all three doses every single day. For one thing, a girl has got to eat; most of the time food is not very appealing when you're on stimulants. Just as an example, since yesterday was a special day (May Day, five year anniversary of my site, etc.) I wanted to fully enjoy good food and not have any of my natural tendencies repressed or subdued so I didn't take any pills.
The ability to take medication vacations is one of the things that I like about stimulants; they don't stay in your system very long (four hours for what I take), they don't take weeks or months to start working, you can take them as needed or not, and you're not going to have a total meltdown if you decide to go without them (though of course you will have all your ADD or ADHD symptoms come back, sometimes rebounding in an exaggerated way like a kid with a mild case of Tourettes who has managed to control most of her tics all day at school and then comes home and unloads a volley of pent-up energy; it's not the same thing, but is the only thing I can imagine that might feel similar except without the holding-it-in part since the meds take care of that without any conscious, painful effort).
My apologies to those of you making it through this entire entry but aren't really interested in this stuff. I would try to keep some of this to myself but it seems like there's a significant number of readers and members who find ADD and stimulant talk useful/interesting, and it definitely helps me to blog about it.
Bubblegum lovers: since dry mouth is a side effect of stimulant use I am counteracting that by chewing and blowing more than normal on my spycams.
I implemented a new budgetary device for Tucker and I; we're each getting a weekly allowance for our vices. I tend to spend money willy-nilly on books and magazines while he opts for wine and beer so we're going to have a new limit of a paltry $15 a week each from our shared money for our personal addictions and if we want to spend more on them it has to come out of our own camming or phone sex money.
What does this mean for you? It means I might have to start camming and doing phone sex a whole lot more because I LOVE TO BUY BOOKS.
*I was in Awana as a preteen and I liked it. I loved the structure and felt like I was proving to our super-conservative neighbors that I couldn't possibly be a total heathen with my knack for memorizing bible verses. When I was in Awana the rewards were little tiny "jewels" that you put in the miniature plastic crowns that you pinned on your chest. The more jewels and crowns and shit meant the more bible verses you knew. Doesn't look like they still have those cool little crowns and jewels and stuff anymore; that's a crying shame. Wait -- I'm wrong! At least the Sparkies still have that stuff.
Tucker and I have had some great sex the past couple of days so I hope you were watching on our spycams because the next few days will be boring; we're going out of town again to do some (photo) shooting. Supposedly there's internet access at the house we're renting, but I'm not holding my breath; we'll bring a cam or two just in case, though, but the view will probably be boring since I'm not up to the challenge of wiring a whole house for cams for two nights when we need to spend that time focusing on content production, not spycams.
On our journey to my mom's house yesterday one of our tires blew out on the freeway. Cool! Getting towed and having a couple new tires put on did eat into our shoot-time, but oh well . . . we have AAA and it was a fun white trash adventure, being stuck on the side of the freeway near the Microsoft campus with all of the fancy Eastside cars whizzing past our beater van. Plus I *love* the smell of new tires -- the ordeal was worth it to sit in Les Schwab inhaling the scent of fresh black rubber and boys in coveralls.
Good news: getting a new memory card for our camera seems to have remedied our problem. We also bumped up the size and quality settings for good measure, so I'm looking forward to showing off nicer photos to our members. Thank you very much to Merrick for the advice and insight on that issue!
Two favorites enjoyed today: hot sex and Lu's "little schoolboy" extra dark chocolate cookies. FUCK YES.
Today during my show someone asked if my boobs are getting bigger; the answer is "yes". They're getting bigger because I'm gaining weight. Even though I joined the gym and have been exercising more the past month, I've also been going hog wild with junk food, and I put all of that weight on my torso (boobs and belly) and face. Honestly I've been anxious and tense a lot and not dealing with it very well; my quick stress fix is salty carbs -- chips, buttery white pasta, buttered and salted tortillas, etc. It's not that I have any major stressors in my life right now, I'm just not coping well with the small things. I am working on it, though.
I know that there is nothing except myself preventing me from improving circumstances that dissatisfy me (debt load, mediocre quality of work, living hours from family, etc.). I do have it pretty fucking good, but my "job"/jobs constantly morph and evolve so that I always have to rebalance and recalibrate. For example, right now my job involves more shopping and costume/shoot planning and location-hunting than I ever imagined in my life. I know it sounds like fun, and sometimes it is, but it's also extremely time-consuming, detail-oriented, and stressful because our budget is limited. I'm not the kind of girl who just LOVES shopping (unless it's shopping for books or music) so it's really just pretty fucking weird and exhausting for me.
I know, it sounds like such a prissy shithead thing to bitch about: Oh god!! All of this SHOPPING is making me so WEARY! I'm just working my FINGERS to the BONE!! And actually, I'm sure a lot of our members would be happier if we just shot basic amateur-looking hardcore at our house and didn't worry about finding cute little cottages to rent and fancy nylon stockings to wear. When I acknowledge that, then I feel discouraged and confused about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it and how I'm doing it and I don't bother to take the time to remind myself that what we do makes sense and is good (example: Delia's hose and hosiery "look" sets her apart from other sites in her niche).
Anyway, I regret bitching about this stuff and should start setting money aside to talk to a professional because I think I just need to vent and spend more time getting to the heart of whatever it is I want most. It's not that I don't like what I do, it's that I get frustrated when doing one thing means that I'm not doing another. I want to do more (and do ALL of it BETTER), but at the same time I feel exhausted, hypercritical, depressed, anxious and overwhelmed.
Oh well, I need to finish my members-only update right now and pack for a shoot we're doing at my mom's house Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I had to wait for the video to upload anyway so this entry wasn't a *total* waste of time.
Treating myself to a massage this morning and time to read has definitely calmed me down a bit. My period starts tomorrow so wish us luck at being productive during a time that I usually set aside for pure laziness.
Thank you, members (past and current) who tolerate my mood swings and support what I do.
So much for my massage this morning; seems that the guy penciled me in for a FACIAL rather than a massage, so I had to reschedule. Hmmm . . . I wonder what he was thinking? Oh well, they are making it up to me by tacking on a free half hour which makes the inconvenience of waking up early TOTALLY worth it. Plus, Tucker made a big batch of bean dip last night and I overindulged; the poor massage girl would have been in pure hell with me farting throughout the massage so everything worked out for the best.
I thought it important I post some eye candy to mitigate the bitch damage done in my recent entries. I'm making a concerted effort not to be an asshole today, and so far nothing has tested my patience so it's been pleasant. I spent my morning doing a little work, chatting with members and vacuuming (a meditative salve for the stressed-out spirit), then my afternoon was spent lunching (sushi roll and seaweed salad!) exercising (Dance Dance Revolution!), and showering. Tucker made a lovely steak dinner then we went to the store for snacks where we picked up a small bouncy ball for our own amusement and the dog's (more relaxing tonic for the nerves: watching Tucker and Nico playing outside with a ball). And now, Jesus H. Christ, it's night time.
Other accomplishments: shopped for and bought a new blonde wig for Delia, did some costume planning for our next shoot, pooped (twice!), went to the bank, replied to some emails, and concocted some promotional materials. I also drafted twenty-seven blog entries and fifteen podcasts . . . in my head.
I channeled my frustration into a little housecleaning and now I feel much, MUCH better. Housework and hysterics are a perfect combo in my book, and Tucker is very accommodating and sweet in the face of my nervous breakdowns. I was even capable of reconstructing my Thunderbird inbox post-housework, which means I can complete a task Tucker is relying upon me to complete so he can send out a newsletter.
Anyway, we are again going to focus on shooting the next couple of days so I don't have any chat sessions scheduled until Friday (breakfast in bed chat) and Saturday (News FLASH!).
My biggest problem in life? Living too fucking far away from my family. I am SICK of it. SICK SICK SICK SICK SICK!!! The Easter weekend was lovely and yet TORTURE. Since I didn't feel like driving eight hours round trip myself, I only drove halfway and had my sister drop me off at my mom's on Saturday which meant I WAS A PRISONER until they felt like taking me back to the ferry. I want to see my family often. But in MUCH SMALLER DOSES PLEASE.
In general the past few days I've felt like bursting into hair-pulling hysterical tears just from feeling totally overwhelmed. It's not that there's anything I don't want to do eating me up (well, except for trying to rebuild my email inbox that took a surprise fucking crap today), it's that THERE IS TOO *MUCH* I WANT TO DO and I'm losing my marbles. And, you know, it just feels like nothing is ever complete and everything is mediocre as fuck.
I feel like running down the street screaming and shredding my clothes off my body, scaring herds of local deer into the bushes. Then I would run shrieking to our local hippy store with a sledgehammer and wreak havoc on their shiny happy marketplace because I resent their cowlike calm, stiff organic hemp clothing and nappy-haired snot-nosed children.
I've enjoyed a fantastic week and a fantastic birthday, so fantastic, in fact, that I'm in worn-out hermit mode. THIS is also a contributing factor in my fatigue.
I think I might also be a little bit depressed; getting to spend so much time with family this week was so pleasant that I feel frustrated we live hours away from each other. My face still hurts from grinning at my nephew. It bothers me that I can't see him whenever I want to at the drop of a hat, and I blame myself. I blame myself for not making enough money to have more reliable transportation to make visiting easier. I blame myself for not making enough money to have a bigger television so we could all watch Borat without eyestrain. I blame myself for not making enough money to have a house where everyone can stay and be comfortable and stretch out for days and weeks and months at a time. I blame myself for not making enough money to help out my family with their own financial woes. I blame myself for not getting ahead on work stuff so that I could hang out without having to think about what I needed to accomplish.
Being around a nine-month old child carrying portions of my DNA alters my perspective on a lot of things, too. My perspective on what I do for work, for example, and the stand I take on certain free speech issues. The maternal instinct is really one of emotional hysteria, I think, which overwhelms my family-unfriendly intellectualizations of certain issues. I'm being vague, I know, but my point is just to share that I feel a little tipped-over and unsteady, and yes -- I do have a maternal instinct. It's been pretty easy for me to deny it since I've not been around little kids for extended periods of time for the past thirteen years, but I was never one of those people who totally didn't understand wanting kids (I just wanted NOT to have them more, or to have foster kids which is out of the question now for me: my only real regret about entering this line of work and being so open about it). I'm also just worn out from the crazy emotions of the intense joy (observing my nephew, hearing him, feeling him, smelling him, making him laugh and smile) combined with intense anxiety (irrationally fearing for his life when he's sleeping, crying, wobbling, etc.). And it's not just my nephew, but seeing my sister. My little sister as a mom. My little sister and her son, who shapeshifts between her, her husband/his dad, my grandpa, my uncle, my grandma . . . I've always been close to my sister so combining the enormity of love and awe and protectiveness I feel for her with the enormity of love and awe and protectiveness I feel for her child / my nephew is just SO BIG that it's a shock to my system once Tucker and I are alone in the house again.
This morning I watched morning television on the networks (the "news" and The View) and that made me feel strange, too. I never watch that stuff in the morning (I think I've only watched The View a few times with my mom) and I felt like I was on another planet or had entered a parallel universe or something. The whole thing felt totally surreal. There was Rosie and Barbara and Joy and what's-her-stupid-face, all talking about their children and partners and family . . . talking to one another like they are "real people" having a normal conversation but they're on a stage entertaining hoardes of strangers, totally detached and disconnected from their children and families and real friends. And there I was, lying alone in bed, mouth unmoving except to chew food. My arms sore and heavy repairing from the unaccustomed lifting of my nephew's weight earlier this week. Conspicuously empty.
Okay . . . we just got back from a productive shopping trip and I'm granting myself permission to postpone my update. We have COMPANY; you wouldn't want me to neglect Kris, would you?
Some of you may be wondering if we've been spending our time together eating box lunches and giggling about how much we love cock, but there's been none of that, nor do we have plans to shoot anything like that. Plus, Kris doesn't do hardcore anymore (and yeah, I think licking carpet qualifies as hardcore). She does want to try to get in some fetish shoots, though so we might get around to something erotic (yet inexplicit) tomorrow. If not tomorrow, next time.
It's been fun just to talk and hang out. I mean, REALLY fun.
I bought 25 pairs of panties tonight for Delia and I. We went to Ross ("Dress for Less" - if you're a poor bargain-hunter on the west coast you know where I'm talking about) so for $250 we were able to get a cartload of stuff that qualifies as costumes for our sites. We got Delia some shoot-worthy dresses (example: we got THIS DRESS at Ross awhile back) and I got some tops that make my boobs look TOTALLY GINORMOUS.
FYI: we are still enjoying the presencing of Kris Madison in our humble abode, so we've been making the most of our time to socialize, which means I've been neglecting my other "duties". Tucker's update is late, my update might be late tonight, and you know . . . we're having fun. We have been turning off the audio quite a bit on our cams so that we can speak frankly about our lesbian love for each other without having people pressure us to do more than watch American Idol in bed together. It's really personal so I hope you understand our need for a little auditory PRIVACY.
Our plans for today are to go SHOPPING! And I hope we eat Indian food, too! Aren't you jealous of our wild webwhore lives?
Our house smells faintly of Lapsang Souchong. Mmmm. . . . if you're a fan of that smokey tea, I'm in love with the Russian Caravan we can get at our local hippy store (not sure if this is the same brand we've gotten, but it's worth checking out if you're into tea).
I'm a little hyperaware of the scent of our house right now because Kris Madison is coming over to stay with us for a few days; I'm afraid the dominant notes in our domestic bouquet won't be smokey tea leaves, but instead will be damp, sweaty, unwashed laundry, wet dog, and heated vomit from our vaccuum cleaner which our brother-in-law used to clean up after our Nico puked while we were gone when she ate a chicken carcass.
Speaking of aromas, we ate a lot of refried beans last night; I'm on the verge of becoming the first human hovercraft. I wonder how many people cancel their memberships to my site after hearing me moan, fart and giggle over the spycam audio one too many times? Or is that part of my distinctive charm?
I'm uploading another unplanned long video to my members area right now so I'm going to take a break while that finishes (it takes a long time to put a long video onto a website, same as it takes a long time to download a long one as a member). We'll watch the recorded girls-night of American Idol during this break, in case you feel like spying to listen to who we're rooting for.
For voyeurs who have time to hang out during our west-coast morning, I posted this on the spycam site:
This morning while I had my morning tea I decided to drag the old laptop into bed and log into the chatroom while watching/listening to the news on television.
I think this might become a habit, but I won't be scheduling the exact time since my waking routine and morning hours vary so much; you'll just have to watch and see if you'd like to be part of my morning routine!
When I fill up my hot water bottle in the bathroom and make my tea in the kitchen, it's a pretty good sign I'll be getting into bed with my breakfast soon, so if you see me in bed with the laptop you'll know I'm probably in the chatroom.
For those of you actually taking the time to read this, I probably don't need to explain that these morning chat sessions are meant to be relaxing, casual chats, NOT strip shows or sex performances. As always, I do not fulfill requests in group chats; my morning cup of tea is one of my favorite special me-things to enjoy, so anyone who distracts from that or makes unpleasantly selfish demands will be booted and/or I will end the chat session.
Things I like to chat about: current events, music, movies, etc. I also like to hear about YOU: where you live, your hobbies and interests, etc.
So yeah . . . if you want to have a regular conversation with me online and you're already a member (and if you're available at that time, which is most convenient for my UK pals, it seems, and my guys who work for themselves and are taking lunch around that time), this will be a nice chance to catch up with each other. I'm not sure if it will become a regular tradition or not, but I definitely enjoyed myself this morning.
Believe it or not, I have some really lengthy blog entries drafted but sometimes I like to sit on those for awhile or I have a hard time finishing them. Just so you know.
I'm going to take a bunch of loads! We're on the way to the laundromat to do some . . . laundry. And then we're going to fuck in the bathroom! Just kidding. We're going to wash our vehicle while we're out. Isn't that exciting?
Ten minutes before Delia's show was set to start, our power got knocked out. Bhoooooosh. SNACK. That's the sound of all of our computers turning off. I'll spare you imitations of a handful of power surges.
Yes, I am glad I got a battery backup thingy for my new computer. No, I am not glad I didn't invest in doing the same for all of our other machines. Now my old computer won't start up unless it's in safe mode. Again.
Anyway, Delia postponed her show so everything is almost back to normal, just a few hours later than planned.
I would have made a phone post about this, but I forgot to write down my new hipcast settings when I switched to the new blogger. Gark.
Yesterday I had my yearly "well-woman" exam with my lovely doctor. For those of you who don't know what strange things happen to women during these exams, you get your breasts methodically checked for lumps and looked at for dimples (and questioned as to whether or not you are performing these examinations yourself at home on a monthly basis) and then they jack-up your vagina with a speculum to take a gander at your cervix which they then swab with a tiny bottle-brush type of thing to collect some cell samples to see if you have cancer or pre-cancerous cells. They might also test you for STD's, but I didn't do that part this year (I feel tempted to explain all the reasons why I didn't spring for that extra expense, but I'll spare you the details and assume you know that I'm a responsible person in that arena and that it just wasn't necessary this time around).
My doctor complimented me on my socks and the vigorously healthy appearance of my cervix, and during most of the exam I chatted with the nurse about the pros and cons of the Instead Cup. I left the office lubed and slightly bloody (some people spot after a pap test, and I'm one of them most of the time).
I *also* left with various prescriptions for migraine remedies. I talked to him about my headaches which I have been blowing off a little bit, mostly because I HAD classic migraines as a kid and teenager and these headaches I've been getting are NOTHING compared to those ones. My doctor seemed to think that having a headache for two days is nothing to blow off, though, so I'm going to be trying out some different things if/when another strikes AND am going to get magnesium injections (inexpensive) to try to help prevent them. And refresh my awareness of the food triggers and possibly cut back on some of the things I've been eating that have been linked to migraines. And maybe think on my stress level and ways to lower it.
Tomorrow (Super Bowl Sunday) we'll be in bed watching the game WITH (old, barely-functioning) laptop. I'll be logged in to chat with our voyeurs during commercials, and we won't record the game -- we'll watch it live with everyone else. If that sounds like fun to you, hope to see you there. We're really only watching it to see Prince.
I finally updated my free-area updates page; I haven't done so in three months and I'm sure I lost sales because of it since it looked like I hadn't added anything new during that time (though I *did*, I just didn't post them on that free-area page). The whole page needs a redesign and it's scrolling like a son-of-a-bitch because I need to split up the pages, but whatever . . . at least people will see that I'm updating all of the time. Now if I can just maintain that every week things will be good. Anyway -- it's worth a look if you're a non-member because there are a bunch of free pics.
In other good news, we took both of our vehicles to the shop(s) (again) recently and now they are BOTH running smooth. Yay!
We have seven cams running most of the time again, and my new computer only has a few essentials left to install before it's up to par PLUS the old one is working again now that I unplugged the new mouse and plugged in THE ONLY MOUSE MY OLD COMPUTER WILL PLAY WITH without insisting on safe mode. Bizarre.
I know it's been boring in my blog lately, but things always get worse before they get better. I've just been hyperfocused on meeting some other goals; once we meet those I'll do better with things that have taken a backseat to content production.
I have to get a loudly-whistling kettle SOON before I burn the house down.
Tucker bought me a beautiful BEAUTIFUL tea kettle; it was large and shiny and lovely. I don't remember how I managed it, but I burned it to death (perhaps the whistle was too soft-spoken? I don't recall, but it made me sad when I destroyed it).
I tried getting a new, pretty, red one, but I had to take it back to the store because the whistle was SO weak, and I knew that spelled disaster. I bought a cheap replacement that I also recently managed to neglect during it's hot process (did I forget to put the whistle-thing down? Or did I forget to tamp down the lid and the steam escaped through there so it wouldn't whistle?). Whatever; it's burned up, the black plastic handle melted into hot lava down its silver sides and the bottom blackened and flaky.
Through all of this I've managed to not set fire to a house (these aren't the only water-boiling mishaps I've had, just the ones during the past two years). The past few months I've been boiling water for my breakfast tea in saucepans. Today I decided to put in a little more water in the pan than usual, which was fortunate because I totally forgot all about it until I left my office to go pee and smelled hot burning something coming from the kitchen. FUCK. Water all boiled off, only mineral remnants frying in the bottom. I *love* that saucepan, too, with its copper bottom. It's one that came from my mom's kitchen so it's been in my life for . . . ummm . . . twenty-five years, at least. I hope it's still usable since its my favorite pan for popping corn, but it looks like most of the copper is going to flake off.
This latest kitchen casualty will probably motivate me to buy a good new proper tea kettle, which will probably be a relief to Tucker; he gets stressed out when I hold onto my mug with my left hand while pouring boiling water into it using my right. He keeps telling me I'm going to burn myself and I need to SET THE MUG DOWN FIRST. It's charming, really, how bothered he gets when I take this minor risk.
You might wonder why I don't just use a microwave to boil water (and pop popcorn). Well, I hate microwaves. HATE them. The only thing they're good for is softening chocolate chip cookies. Microwaves disgust me -- I hate the way they sound, the way they always wind up smelling, the way they look, the way they take up so much space. HATE them. If we had a huge kitchen and money to burn on scary appliances, sure -- we'd have one and use it for heating up leftovers and stuff. But I'm not going out of my poor way to stuff one into a tiny-ass kitchen.
By the way, I hate dishwashers too. So there.
There are certain things that should be done by human hands, the old-fashioned way. Washing dishes is one of them. No matter how many times people scoff and tell me about the advances in dishwashers, no one I know has a faultless dishwasher. They all leave crusties or break things every so often. And I HATE the smell of dishwasher-washed dishes (or just the SMELL of a dishwasher running). Blech! I would rather smell food mouldering on a pile of stacked-up dishes waiting to be hand-washed than catch a whiff of that hot steamy dishwasher aroma and have to HEAR its noisiness on top of it. Maybe the problem is that no one I know is able to afford the latest and greatest dishwashing technology, but whatever . . . I doubt I will ever fully trust dishwashers. Even if I were rich enough to have a maid to load the dishwasher for me, I know I'd be skulking around the kitchen making his/her life miserable by questioning her judgement on which dishes s/he would put into the evil machine. Not my favorite mug -- noooooooooo!
I know it's crazy, but I just don't like the way microwaves cook food. I don't trust it. I'm suspicious. While it's delightful that you can microwave bacon and it will come out perfectly cooked and FLAT (instead of curly), there's something horribly wrong about that. I'll still eat it and everything, but not before narrowing my eyes at the microwave contraption to let it know that I'm onto it and it better not try anything funnier than making flat bacon.
I have been *dying* to see Dreamgirls so tonight we watched it before it slipped out of our local theatre. I honestly despised most of the movie and could barely WAIT for it to be over because I cannot stand musicals.
You're probably wondering why in the world I wanted to see it so much then; how about because I totally didn't realize it was a musical? It's true . . . totally true. I didn't read anything about it so I didn't know it was based on a show nor did I stop to consider after seeing the preview that it might be a musical. Of course I knew there would be music and performances in it, just not that they'd be using songs as dialogue. All I saw in the preview was BEYONCE. That's it. She's the whole reason I wanted to see it so much. Since then of course I've noticed headlines about this Jennifer Hudson chick stealing the show and awards being won, blah blah blah. But I didn't care to read the whole story on it because I just wanted to see/hear BEYONCE.
Painful as it was to endure the entire long-ass movie, it was actually worth it to hear THREE of the songs. Actually, it would have been worth it for just that one heart-wrenching "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" gut-grinding performance of Jennifer Hudson's. Okay, and it was also splendid seeing Beyonce's tits and ass presented in different garments; I was particularly fond of seeing her boobs in those sling-like contraptions at the end.
FYI: I haven't responded to any emails in a good long while unless they were about technical problems, but I'm going to try to get a jump on those tomorrow. Realistically I doubt I'll be able to properly respond to more than a handful of them, though, since the most pressing ones require action of some kind or another.
Cams: I'm ready to strangle, kill, and mutilate the idiots who foisted substandard resource-sucking spycam software upon us months ago and haven't bothered to fix any of the problems in spite of my repeated nagging. Apparently today all but one of our cams were down and I had no idea because all of the thumbnail previews were still up and because the thumbnails don't refresh/show an accurate preview I wouldn't have known unless I clicked on them that they were actually not broadcasting. PERFECT. Anyway, thank you to Vette for emailing me to let me know about the problem.
Chat: I am going to schedule chat sessions for Tuesday evening, Wednesday morning, and Thursday afternoon plus my shows will be back to normal on Friday and Saturday. As soon as we get back from a walk I'll post the times on the spycam site's schedule.
It's too bad that "young" clothes are so inexpensive while purchasing mature and womanly garb requires more funds. When WILL my bankbook match my age? I need my grownup-galleries to outnumber my youthful-role-play content by at LEAST two to one instead of the other way around. THREE to one, that would be PERFECT.
This weekend some or all of our cams will be down while family is visiting. My apologies for my low-level of interaction in terms of shows, email, chat, etc. I *almost* scheduled a chat session tonight, but was wise enough to decide against making that commitment. I'm feeling pretty tense and overwhelmed right now, and will probably remain so for the next few weeks until some goals are met. Our van is in the shop AGAIN (fan clutch being replaced), I have housework to do to prepare for company, and just a shitload of tasks demanding my attention. When I'm struggling to balance a lot of stuff and am focused on getting stuff done, being social is pretty much inconceivable for me. I don't just mean that I don't want to do it, I mean that I am incapable.
So. I have dirty dishes and a dirty toilet waiting for me, it's too late for me to do them tonight so they'll have to wait for morning . . . RIGHT BEFORE THE ONE SHOW I LEFT ON THE SCHEDULE, right before company comes over. Oh, won't the boys LOVE my charming attitude tomorrow!
We're home. I have cramps. Our internet connection has been going up and down (apparently my cable company is still doing upgrades, from what the woman on the phone said, but she seemed somewhat disoriented after eight minutes on the phone with me). Anyway, it's making it very difficult to keep our cams logged in (not that it's mattered over the past couple of days since we weren't home anyway, but now that we are I hope that I won't have to keep leaving my hot water bottle behind in bed just to make sure our connection hasn't nosedived again.
Am I TAD grumpy? Good reading on that. Happy thoughts to come later . . .
GONE AGAIN We're doing another two-night shooting spree (last night and tonight) so I'm just home to post my members-only update, check on the dog, etc.
Our efficiency today has literally gone down the toilet: last night we must have eaten something bad because we both suffered nausea and explosive D (I can't spell that word and it's probably better if I don't anyway). I think the last time I had this much force behind my liquid shit was when I visited Albania in 1994.
Anyway, we had to catch up on some sleep and are off to a slow start today. My asshole is on FIRE. Be home tomorrow.
I was trying to find a bargain on a monitor on ebay, found a reasonable 17" NEC (I have tremendous brand loyalty in the monitor department), have been waiting until the last couple of minutes to bid, and when I did, the highest bid was $81.51. So I put my max bid at $92.51.
Errr . . . I *thought* I did, anyway. Turns out I didn't hit that period quite hard enough so my maximum bid was $9,251.00. FUCK ME.A missed period is ALWAYS stressful, you know?
Fortunately the auction just ended with me winning (what a surprise, right?) and not too much damage done (winning bid: $125 plus the usual gigantic shipping fee).
Oh well. I haven't been able to use my new computer (sitting in its box in the living room for over a week) yet since the only spare monitor we have is the size of a minicooper so this will be money well spent.
This is just one example of the kind of work I find myself doing that I really really really don't like all that much: the shopping, the reservation-making, the bargain-hunting, blah blah blah. Shopping is about the FARTHEST POSSIBLE ACTIVITY FROM SEXUAL PLEASURE THAT I CAN CONJURE. Seriously, shopping is the polar opposite of sex and I've had about all I can stand of it this past month (and have more to come). I can definitely imagine having a personal assistant who does a lot of shopping and hotel selections for me (of course I will have final approval over most of her choices) and all of the annoying grunt work of completing the transactions, making the calls, and stuff. SHE will never accidentally bid over $9k for a monitor. Not my "girl", no.
Warning: this is another boring entry and more for my own benefit than yours.
A headache hit me yesterday as I got ready for my first show of the day so my "performance" was extremely boring. I had to turn off my main "show" light since the brightness shining in my face seemed to be piercing my brain. Ultimately I decided to cancel my second show only an hour before it started because I still felt crappy in the head.
If I'd have taken a nap I probably would have felt better, but the trouble is . . . I didn't want to sleep. True, I was experiencing *some* pain but not so much that I didn't still want to read or watch tv. I wanted a sick day, I think.
We wound up taking the dog for a walk (fresh air -- delightful) and spending the rest of the evening in bed watching movies and television. And popping Vicodin. MARVELOUS. It completely slipped my mind we have a stash of those until Tucker reminded me. Nevermind that it makes my skin crawl with itchies and gives me bad dreams, every so often I adore a little prescription mind-alteration. When you can't take a real vacation, I say take drugs!
Of course I feel terribly guilty for skipping out on a show so I could take a walk, pop pills, and eat even more ding dongs, but I'm human and can't remember when (if ever) I've cancelled a show because I was sick. It's times like this when I feel incredibly self-conscious about the spycams, imagining I'm being judged harshly for neglecting my webwhore duties in favor of lazing in bed. Imagining people are "tsking" and remarking to themselves on how I must not be really sick if I'm alert and having sickbed fun instead of lying in a pool of my own sweat and vomit (or at least sleeping). Again, I wasn't tremendously sick or pained, I just felt yucky enough that I couldn't stand the thought of doing another half-assed show.
I actually do still have a headache this morning -- nothing terribly painful, it just hurts to bend over and . . . hurts. It's mild, but distracting and I still feel light-sensitive.
Here is a long list of my ideas about what caused this headache (I *told* you this would be a boring entry):
Too much salt! I've been scarfing down a lot of salty carbs in the past few days, plus Tucker thinks I don't drink enough liquids to counteract the salt effects.
Eye Strain! Maybe I've been reading too much or the fact that I still haven't got a new and correct prescription for my contacts and glasses is to blame.
Psycho! Maybe I just didn't want to do my shows and *created* a headache for myself to excuse myself or because I so totally hated the idea of doing shows yesterday.
Ding Dongs! Oh, those poisoned pucks of cakey deliciousness filled with goo. I bought a box of them midweek and have consumed all but two of them over five days. I know they're evil and toxic so perhaps they are to blame.
Muscle Tension! I have horrible posture at the computer; sitting for hours in my bad computer pose compounded with doing shoots in which I torque my back and neck trying to look "sexy" can really fuck up my/anyone's spine and nerves and stuff, especially when I haven't made time to stretch this week at all.
Hormones I skipped my period / birth-control-pill-off-week this month, so have been popping hormones nonstop for six weeks without a break; the pill is a very likely suspect. I've actually been having some weird dizzy spells too, now that I think of it. Hmmm . . . I probably better not do that again.
Lack of Sleep I didn't get quite enough sleep over the past three days leading up to the headache; I don't function well when I'm even a little bit sleep-deprived.
Emotional Build-Up Having our van break down again and having to spend another $500 getting it towed and its radiator replaced this week was, you know, stressful. I also have been repressing my urges to cry at stupid things, and being on the pill makes me want to cry at A WHOLE LOT of stupid things (Extreme Makeover Home Edition is a major culprit). It's so embarrassing that I wind up furrowing my brow and hyperventilating in my attempts to restrain myself from having crybaby outbursts. My whole body gets all hot and tense trying to hold in the tears so our voyeurs won't see them and Tucker won't worry that I'm, you know, losing my mind. I really should try giving myself a week of complete crybaby freedom instead of letting myself boil inside with repressed emotions, no matter how trivial and silly their sources.
Physical Build-Up I'm still not getting enough aerobic exercise; that build-up of unspent energy along with unspent SEXUAL energy can sometimes make me really crazy and I don't doubt that has some effect on my BRAIN.
Whatever. It's always good to have a reminder to strive for more balance. I hardly ever get sick, and never in any way that's debilitating, so I can almost-always blame my own behavior for not feeling well. Maybe it sounds like I'm being critical of myself, but I like reminding myself that I have control over how I feel and that if I want to avoid feeling bad I should modify my behavior (get more sleep, eat less salt, get more exercise, do more stretching, TAKE A WHOLE DAY OR TWO OFF EVERY SO OFTEN, etc.). I wonder if it seems to other people like I over-analyze and hyperfocus on my trivial ailments when I do have them to the point where it sounds like I have serious health problems; if so, I attribute my actually-quite-dandy health to being aware and thinking critically about how I feel.
Today I'm going to take it easy, do some napping, and not feel guilty at all about lazing in bed. I still have a lot of work to do today, but I'm going to start it out relaxing. I wish I could say I'll post a more interesting blog entry today, but I don't really think that's going to happen with the other stuff on my to-do list.
I had to spend a couple of hours getting my hair colored this morning so it feels like I haven't been home much, and certainly haven't gotten any "work" done at the computer (lots of emails stacking up, I confess).
We did manage to waste a lot of time last night catching up on those American Idol auditions -- I *hate* watching those mean-spirited things, and hate myself FOR watching them, and hate people in general for guffawing at poor unfortunates, and hate myself for being duped into thinking that any of it is for real, and hate myself for guffawing along with the rest of America. HATE it.
It was strange to see the Seattle Idol auditions and recognize some of the people. Not in a specific way, but just a general way, like the sweet girl in the pink fishnet from Snohomish and the Bothell beatbox boy's dad -- those are the kinds of people I grew up with. Oh, I grew up around pretty people, too, but the people who really felt like locals -- the people who really belonged to the town in the same way generations of my family belonged to it -- those people (my people) are kind of hicks. It's shocking to realize how different we look from other people in this country, people from urban areas (the people we see on television most often). It's shocking to see how much more we resemble Appalachian hillbillies than, say, New Yorkers. The jolt of seeing our kind-mannered ugliness on television shocked me into realizing how hidden we usually are, we poor, white, unfashionable folk.
The culture and identity of my state seems so washed-out and unidentifiable to most people, but the older I get the more finely-tuned I've become to the small towns and city (Tacoma) where I've lived; they have made me into a certain person that other places couldn't have created. I am from "The West", and it's a real place not just some watered-down amalgam of other places or some expensive place to live that just appeared out of thin air when Microsoft, Pearl Jam, and Starbucks put us on the map. I am oddly proud to have grown up in a town with enough personality, poverty and pathos that people still have sex with farm animals.
Oh, and I should mention that I don't recognize Taylor Hicks AT ALL as one of my kind, despite the way his name sounds; he is a moron who didn't even know the words to "Country Roads" (among other things) and that sickens me to the core. Sex with farm animals also sickens me to the core, but not as much. I just felt like making sure you know that I don't ENDORSE such bestial acts, nor do I ENDORSE Taylor Hicks. Both Taylor Hicks and bestiality should be avoided. Unless this provides him the release he needs, sparing some poor woman from being soul patrolled.
So far my favorites during the auditions are the Indian brother and sister and the girl who sang "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" (retch!) and reminded me of Inara. Of course I'll be rooting hardest for the human beatbox from Bothell - I hope he makes it.
I really should take a nap before we go pick our van (a simple loose connection with the ignition, but also holes in the radiator) and run errands.
After shooting lots of photos and video of Tucker and Delia the past two days, I found myself EXTREMELY, PAINFULLY, TORMENTED by excitement. In spite of all the spunk Tucker already sacrificed for the camera, he welcomed me into his arms last night for some passionate kissing which immediately aggravated my sensitive condition, causing me to rub against him. A small amount of that friction seemed bring me near the brink of orgasm, but I wanted all of it so we took off our pants and fucked on the cottage couch until I had a healthy orgasm. Yay!
I'm actually horny right now, just remembering it and writing about it. It's making me VERY UNCOMFORTABLE and highly agitated.
Unfortunately we have to take a trip in the gas-guzzling truck right now to buy some computer necessaries. When we get home we're going to watch American Idol. If I'm lucky, maybe we'll fuck some more, because right now my swollen genitalia are annoying me!!!!
Yay -- we're home again after a two-day shooting-spree, bringing us about one third of the way to meeting our Valentine's Day Goal of getting three months ahead on content production for our three main sites.
The place we rented was HEAVENLY, and I loved getting up this morning with no computers or cams to go check . . . just padding around in a clean pretty house after a lovely night of sleep in a perfectly firm and tidy bed. It was the kind of house that makes you feel like your life would be perfect if you could wake up there every day . . . if it belonged to you with its pretty colors and clean linens and someone else to do the housekeeping. While I pretended it was my house, Tucker had to go home and let the dog pee. When he came back to our pretend house, it was in our beater truck instead of our beater van and he bore the bad news that our van broke down. Again.
The reality of our precarious situation crashed down onto my head as we filled the dirty cab of the truck so full with our suitcases, lighting equipment, etc. that there was barely room for us to squeeze inside. But whatever. Things will get better. Someday we'll have reliable transportation. But before that we'll have three fucking months of content queued up for updates and won't be scurrying three times a week to shoot half-assed shit just so we have something to post. More time to make money (for a new camera and, you know -- a car that runs), more time to shoot FOR FUN and with a little more ambition, and a lot less tension and anxiety. More time to do other stuff, like chat with members and do private shows and phone sex -- things I really miss (like writing more interesting blog entries). But all I care about right now is meeting that goal of getting ahead on content; we have just over two week to achieve that before Valentine's Day strikes, and then we should be able to stay on top of it with some focused effort (maybe two or three days of focused shooting each month with spontaneous stuff thrown in for good measure, and the freedom to experiment a little more without worrying that we've "wasted" a shoot trying something new or strange).
So. Now I'm waiting for the tow truck to get here to haul our van to the mechanic's. I haven't had a safe and reliable car for about six years and I'm getting really sick of this shit. It's not a very big deal because we work at home, but it has become a larger issue since my nephew was born (and lives hours away) and my grandma is sick (and lives hours away). Right now, at this very moment, I'm not sure if I want to rip my hair out or just shrug it off and remind myself it will all be okay.
We just lost our internet connection a few minutes ago; for once they actually have an explanation for the down-time, though -- they're rebuilding some stuff / making improvements so apparently our connection will be hit and miss all day (and is really slow right now and I'm not sure if it will hold up long enough for me to post this).
The long and short of it for our members is that our spycams will not be up much while they're doing this work but it's okay since we're not going to be home anyway; we're leaving in a few hours. We'll be gone for two nights shooting a bunch of photos in someone else's cute house, only coming home to check on the dog every so often.
The point is, you won't be missing much. Right now, for example, I'm downloading and editing video which means some cams are down anyway while I'm using computer resources for that. The cam that relies on the laptop is also down because we're taking the laptop with us.
On that note, my new computer showed up yesterday but I'm not actually going to get to use it for a week or two since I still need a monitor and to install a bunch of software. With our heavy shooting schedule plus shows this week and next I'm not going to have a lot of opportunities to be shopping, migrating files, and getting things ready in time for shows and updates and such.