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.
*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?
Yesterday I catalogued our inventory of sex toys in a spreadsheet to try to keep track of which ones we have (and haven't) shot with.
This is the Tantus Sport which I got from their closeout section in a clearance color; I've gotten a lot of spectacular (and low-priced silicone toys) from them. In fact, my favorites are ones they don't make anymore.
We have over fifty sex toys, which is pretty awesome. Really a dream come true, I have to say. There have been others over the years we've thrown away because they were cheap/dangerous jelly or broke/got used-to-death.
Crazily, we have barely shot photos or videos with more than a handful of them. We use a lot of them during our live webcam shows so it seems like we get/have gotten a lot of use from them, but there aren't actually a ton of pics or masturbation-with-toys videos on our sites. Pretty dumb, eh? Hence the spreadsheet.
The Tantus Goddess vibrating dildo (a gift from FurryGirl's Sensual Vegan):
Lately I've been CRAVING new toys in categories we don't have. Example: we don't have any big "realistic" toys in our collection which seems like a SERIOUS oversight, especially considering how few of my close webwhore colleagues seem into those types of things and how TOTALLY into them I am (so it seems like a good niche for me to "fill", hardy har har). Sure, I like the way our "non-representational" dildos FEEL, but I fucking love seeing chicks spreading themselves out with big fat fake pricks and I love the way realistic "dongs" look especially when there are good contrasting colors between the head and the shaft (hello, Black Thunder). I totally want more DONGS.
I can't allow myself to purchase any more sex toys, though, until we've shot more with the ones we already have. Even though I totally want a pussy pump, more stainless steel, DEFINITELY more artistic stuff like carved wooden dildos, art glass, & unique molded silicone insertables. AND BIG DIRTY DICK-SHAPED DILDOS, like I already mentioned. Just can't let myself get them. I'm not sure why we never got on the bus that has sex toy manufacturers constantly sending us unsolicited samples, but that's just never happened to us, I'm sad to say.
I did get a couple of toys to review from the nice folks at Pleasure Me Now, but I stalled out after the glass dildo when I couldn't bring myself to properly review the smart balls I was super excited about trying but was then unsuccessful at enjoying. Not that they asked me to only write positive reviews -- they didn't -- but I felt like I hadn't given those GIGANTIC FUCKING BALLS a fair shake and kept procrastinating on setting aside time to really give them a good trial. Sometimes my anal retentiveness is an obstacle to getting freebies.
One of the problems with our sex toy collection (and pretty much everything we buy to wear or use in photo shoots) is the constant struggle to decide between buying A LOT of cheap and semi-generic things on our limited budget or buying A FEW unique and really marvelous things . . . and not being able to buy anything else for months. Usually I wind up buying more for less rather than investing a bunch of money in a very-few expensive and spectacular items. We buy most of our clothes second-hand or on sale and same goes for the toys, so I rarely spend more than $40 on a single toy. Which is why I have zero "realistic" dildos, since all the good ones are in the $60-$90 range (and are made of questionable, possibly-hazardous and hard-to-clean materials making the investment even LESS sound since Delia and I might not be able to share them or get very many miles out of them or they'll stain if we get lipstick on them, etc.). It doesn't really make sense, since even with these frugal choices designed to give us (and our members) more variety I'm not even using all of the stuff AND I *still* use certain things OVER and OVER again (like my Hitachi Magic Wand).
It's the whole dilemma of "do I buy five crappy Frederick's of Hollywood corsets or one REAL corset?" And then the ultimate challenge of making use of everything, which is where I actually fall down on the job(s). But who wouldn't after exhausting all those brain cells on making these tough shopping decisions? Most members don't give a fuck anyway as long as you're regularly posting something new and hot -- the mileage you can get on one slimline vibe, a little hard work and a cheap pair of pantyhose is pretty remarkable, but in terms of standing out in a crowd with your promo materials and really presenting something SPECIAL that continues to be personally exciting sometimes you want things that are fancy, different, stylish, etc. Well, almost all the time I want those things. And never quite succeed in getting them. Which leaves me with something average which is tiresome.
Even more tiresome? All of this is leading into yet another blog entry about shopping for sexy stuff which I'll try to post soon but I had no idea I was going to spend an hour writing THIS one.
The Fourth of July isn't my absolute favorite holiday, but I do enjoy it a lot -- especially small town fireworks displays like ours. We also bought a small tabletop propane grill today to celebrate the American way with cheeseburgers and replace our rusted out charcoal grill.
In keeping with a celebration of our great capitalist country:
I hate to break it to those of you who read my blog through a feed reader, but you'll have to click through now and actually VISIT my blog to read my posts from start to finish (if you want to). I actually set my feed settings years ago BEFORE I actually started reading other people's blogs through a feed reader myself so until recently I didn't realize how unlikely it is for anyone to see my blog presented in all of its obnoxious glory when they can have it generically spoon fed to them through a reader.
I totally understand how much easier on the eyes it is to read through a feed reader but other than that, it's not very hard to click through to the original post and see it presented with the personality of the blogger who wrote it (me, in this case). After about a year of using a feed reader (I use Google Reader) to keep up with my favorite blogs I've noticed I feel more detached from the people who write them. It's like swallowing food without chewing it -- just gulping it down. I also don't like that some elements in my posts aren't properly displayed, if they're displayed at all (example: flash or video elements).
On top of that, my blog doesn't make as much money as it used to before the rise in popularity of feedreaders. Of course there are a number of reasons for that, but the fact that more people are reading me while fewer people are seeing advertisements for my sites and other sites I promote PROBABLY plays a pretty big part. I have never been one of those people who feels the need to apologize for wanting my work on the web to make some money so I'm not going to start now, especially since I think most of my selling is pretty soft/laid-back. I don't shove advertisements down readers' throats constantly, but I am also not going to keep throwing away my real estate when I can least afford to do so. I want people to be reminded every time they read my blog of my little amateur porn empire and crappy design "skills". Every time people read my blog, I want them to see my picture in the sidebar. I do not want people to see me as something contained within google or feedburner or whatever-the-hell. It's depersonalizing and also just not very smart on my part as a webwhore.
I know for SOME people the whole point of using a reader to consume blogs is getting all the content in one place. For me, using a reader is actually more about being alerted when posts are made to my favorite blogs without having to compulsively click and refresh a million links in a list to see if my beloved bloggers have updated yet. It's also about being able to organize, favorite and label blogs and posts. Reading other people's blogs has always felt very intimate to me and I want it to keep being that way; I don't like the way my reliance on Google Reader has made all the blogs I used to recognize on sight conform to the same look and feel. I've also hardly added any new blogs to my lineup because I'm not visiting people's blogs and clicking on their links anymore. I'm totally missing out! So yeah -- I'm just not going to give readers the option anymore to ignore my sidebars and shit. Plplplplplpl!!
Just to rub salt in your wounds, I added a gigantic flash animated Fleshlight banner over there. BECAUSE EVERYONE WITH A DICK SHOULD HAVE ONE and it makes me totally hot to look at those kinds of things being played with or even just presented on display (see also my entry on Tiny Fake Pussies). If I find a less obnoxious banner that I like just as much that shows some "action", I will replace it, though. Or maybe if someone says that it gave them a seizure.
Anyhoo, here are a few little images from the video we posted yesterday for members:
Here are a few samples from the first set of pictures we shot together using our new camera remote:
A test shot to check the light; I like how you can see some of our camera stuff, including the remote not yet hooked up in this one:
One of my favorite shots that made the whole awkwardness of jumping up and down off Delia's face to adjust the camera on the tripod, etc. worth every minute of it even though I had to crop this picture to make it look like this:
Today I'm editing the video we shot after the pictures which is rife with our squeaky bed squeaking and awkward-sounding silences which I hope to smooth out if I can find the right free music to do so, though probably I'll just waste a bunch of time listening to stuff and deciding against it completely at the end. It's hard for me to do a bunch of dirty talking when my head is working so hard at trying to visualize the images we're capturing and enjoy the sensations I'm feeling. It makes me feel shy, voyeuristic and nonverbal most of the time. After so many years of doing this stuff you'd think ALL of it would come really naturally to me, but it usually doesn't. Also, we really haven't shot mass quantities of video together (mostly we have shot each other solo) so it's still an amateurish learning experience every time. But a fun one, as this other favorite picture of mine indicates:
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 *finally* got a remote control to take pictures of ourselves together. Here are a couple of our first silly attempts, just testing it out:
Trixie is "The Other Sister"
The Pervy Ogre
Last night we shot a "real" (in other words, pornographic) set together taken in vivid color, wearing stockings and corsets. It was challenging and extremely time consuming, but worth the effort and expense of the remote even for poorly composed photos (in fact, some of the ones with pieces of us unintentionally chopped out were the best; it feels more voyeuristic and amateur, I think). We should have done this a long time ago. Anyway, today I'll work on editing that gallery and maybe the video, too.
I remember working swing shift as one of the very best times in my life. I'd get off work between midnight and two in the morning and drive home in the dark experiencing the magic of RIGHTNESS, of everything having fallen into place and a lifelong problem being solved. That schedule didn't make everything perfect, of course, but it was a magical gift that explained part of my life and who I am to me and let me know that things CAN fall into place. It's one thing to complain vociferously about not being a morning person and another thing to be lucky enough to NOT HAVE TO BE. To experience yourself operating at maximum efficiency and enjoy your favorite parts of the day and night, skipping the parts that have never worked for you. To function so much better that you've got PROOF that this "night person" thing is real.
I'm at a point in my life where I need a new swing shift. My gears have been out of sync for years now and I keep looking for some little twinkly adjustment I can make that will fix things. I've given myself a bunch of tuneups and they've been eye-opening and helpful, but I'm desperate to feel something like the smooth, peaceful rightness of driving home on a nearly-empty freeway with the windows rolled down in the summer, smelling everything asleep and reveling in being awake, ready to go home and make a simple dinner for myself. The answer isn't making myself work from four to midnight now, either - I don't live alone anymore and I don't want to; I want to go to bed WITH Delia (not a night person, so we compromise). I feel like I've tried everything and suspect the answer is that I need more time to be completely alone with myself, without the sounds of anybody else, without being seen or heard by anyone watching . . . just totally removed from everybody's sounds and presence.
Last week I allowed myself the luxury of staying up all night long playing with TrixieRadio - listening to music, downloading new stuff and uploading it to the station . . . amusing myself and accomplishing something that has no monetary pay-off in the near future and is absolutely NOT what I should be spending huge blocks of time doing. But I miss listening to music. REALLY MISS IT. I am not someone who can work AND listen to music with words, so it's not an option for me to multitask. Besides, I don't want to. I want to do nothing but listen. NOTHING BUT. So I did, all night long, and organized my .mp3's and made lists of cd's I still need to rip and read about music and made a blog entry begging for money to justify doing it more. Being up all night doing that made me feel a little more like myself. And I finally bought an adaptor that provides phantom power for my months-old new microphone so I can personalize things more and potentially make more sales through the "radio" thing and podcasting. If I can figure out the perfect settings for recording with this microphone (one of those detail-oriented time-sucking tasks that annoys the shit out of me that I usually invest a couple of hours in then decide it's not worth it / I should wait for a better time to do it / I have more important things to do).
I've been retreating a lot more into our guest room, off cam and alone, which has been helpful but maybe I'm still not committed enough to it to really reap the benefits of it. I feel guilty about it and still can't get enough. I haven't figured out how to integrate my need for solitude with work and my relationship with Delia. She's really tolerant and understanding of my limitations in this area so it's me that needs to work out the kinks alone along with continuing to figure out how to succeed at being my own boss. You'd think after seven years I'd be an expert, but I'm still an amateur (both at working for myself and being in a relationship). A lot of things have changed for the better in the past year but I'm still struggling to find daily "rightness". I get glimmers of it, but very inconsistently; for everything I resolve to do better, something else falls by the wayside. It's like there's a never-ending rotation of things I do well and things I fuck up -- every day, every week, every month, every quarter, every year the same fucking challenges just trade places with each other. I make progress but only temporarily before regressing. I feel like I haven't CONQUERED anything in years and I'm pretty fucking sick of it. I try to be patient with myself, recognizing I've had some really fucked-up health problems and am still fine-tuning "curing" myself. Recognizing the economy sucks so it's not entirely my fault that we're on this debt merry-go-round.
The shitty thing is that having a positive attitude means feeling empowered and taking responsibility to fix stuff -- believing it's POSSIBLE to make things better; I'm just really really REALLY tired of the burden. Sometimes I just wish I could drive home and let my boss figure it out in the morning and tell me what to do when I go to work and know that it's not my fault if that was the wrong thing. Part of me loves how I've complicated my life and that I *don't* have a boss, but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST sometimes I miss having things be simple. I miss having someone else to blame. I miss not really caring about my job. That used to make me feel trapped, having to go to work for a certain number of hours and not doing anything even remotely creative. Now? I feel trapped because I *do* care about my job(s). Because it's rare that I get to establish a rhythm doing something simple for 6-8 hours. I can't quit because I love my work, but I have no idea when (if ever) I'll be able to do my job BETTER and not just feel like I'm running on a treadmill. A treadmill that lurches and changes speeds unpredictably and is just like . . . possessed with multiple personalities. There's no water-cooler where I can stand around bitching about my boss and how if I ran things I'd do them differently/better. I mean, I can do that, but it's not really good for my self-esteem. I am my own worst boss/enemy and I'm so. TIRED of it.
I keep slogging along, promising myself that if we just get rid of our debt we'll be able to AFFORD to establish some rhythms and magic swing shifts but right now we seriously do not have the money to do anything efficiently. Not shooting, not marketing, not exercising . . . not even fucking GROCERY shopping. Every day is a schizo fucking mess and I'm just so sleeeeeeeeeeeeeepy. Not as bad as I was before, but still . . . some days are pretty bad while I'm fine tuning different birth control pills, supplements, figuring out just how much fucking with my blood sugar I can get away with, etc.
Fuck it. I am going to order a pizza.
Sorry for the downer of a post. Things are good, I just needed to whine a little bit.
I just added Oasis' blog to my links and wanted to point her out to you. If you're interested in knowing all of the groundbreakers in internet porn -- people who had amateur sex sites before there were role models for such things -- read her blog because Oasis is one of a small handful of them.
She's one of those legendary people in *my* circle of do-it-yourself porn people, and has a hands-on, hardcore approach of swinging, fucking fans, flashing, gang bangs, interracial and party girl antics.
I don't know much about her (yet) except that she's doing sex work in Australia. I was introduced to her recently through tweets linking to this post she made -- It's You I'm Afraid Of -- that made me cry because so many parts of it rang so true for me, especially since I've been trying for the past few months to reconnect with family and friends and acquaintances from high school and college, some of them cops, many of them religious, loads of them Republicans, and a few others "liberal" (yes, in quotation marks).
"Folks want to be supportive but sometimes they donít get it and thatís OK. I donít expect people to know everythingóIím still learning too! But you should know that when you donít get it, it can really sting or, Iíll be honest, irritate the shit out of me.
So itís you that I sometimes protect myself from. Itís you who I will avoid or go silent with because I just donít want to deal with how disappointed I feel. Itís you that I write for and to. Itís you that I want on my side. You are the ones whoís judgments, stereotypes, awkward silences and ill-informed questions I watch out for. Itís you Iím afraid of."
Last week I was in a hurry to have an orgasm, so I went to *quickly* find a free amateur video of some stranger (ANY stranger) jerking himself off. This video, "A Tribute to Jodie", looked like a winner so I grabbed my eroscillator, shoved it under the waistband of my sweats, and pressed play.
The "tribute" part of the title gave me a good hint what I'd be watching: a guy at home with his webcam recording himself jacking off onto one of his favorite photos of a camgirl or pornstar. I've seen these things before and have always been fascinated by them.
LET ME REITERATE: I was not in the mood to be choosy about selecting the video; I wanted to get off as soon as possible with anything remotely visually stimulating and obscene. As long as it was a closeup of a guy jerking his cock, I didn't care. For a quick cum, homemade jerkoff videos are surefire winners for me because they're usually the right length: they get right down to business with no distractions. Even better, there's an extreme element of voyeurism for me especially when the guy is using a toy (like tiny fake pussies) or in some way sharing a method that is in some way humiliating/exposes more about him than just his cock. I love seeing a guy's private masturbation ritual. The tribute thing? If I were a guy I would try to keep that secret and would be *totally* embarrassed to admit, let alone SHOW MYSELF OFF, doing it. Because it seems so humiliating to me, I *love* watching it. The notion that some guy is so fucking crazed by his desire to get off that he will DO something so ridiculously contrived and teenage-insane makes me incredibly hot.
Having said that, the LAST thing I want is for someone to record such a tribute to me if they're planning to inform me of it/beg me to watch it. Noooooooooo, please! NO! Don't ever do that! If you do, don't do it expecting me to masturbate to it or tell you that it made me hot. The best you can hope for is that I'll laugh and thank you for doing me the "honor". Being put into a situation where I will feel *obligated* to watch it and issue a polite response (or even worse, a big description of how it made me masturbate) would totally ruin the whole thing for me. The whole point of masturbating is to DO IT ALONE, whenever you want to, without having to interact with someone. I do not want other people picking out my masturbation fodder for me because I will get all tense thinking the person expects me to drop everything and go wank. When I masturbate? I do not want to feel obligated to anyone or under pressure to perform or to flatter someone else (especially when they've done something as grotesque as defile my image by splattering it with their cum). I don't want someone watching me while I take my two fully-clothed minutes slouched in my site with my hands down my sweatpants. The last thing I want is someone emailing me over and over again, "have you watched my tribute to you yet? I can't wait for you to see it!", or, "oh darn! I missed it! Can you do it again so I can see? After all, I recorded that JUST FOR YOU and I want to see you cum to me while I cum on you! Thanks babes!"
The whole hot thing about watching videos like these is that they *are* kind of gross. I *don't* want to be there. I *don't* want a stranger's ejaculate on me. I *don't* want to synchronize our orgasms in real time. The whole point of watching porn, for me, is to NOT be involved with someone else. I can't lie -- there's definitely a freak show element to the whole thing, and I mean "freak" in the most normal sense of the word; the solitary freak we all have/are when we're alone (and if you don't have that freak element to you? I totally cannot relate).
I know all of this sounds crazy given that I have been broadcasting spycams since 2002, so obviously? People DO watch me masturbate! The thing of it is (and always has been) that the reason I do a lot of what I do is because *I* am a voyeur at heart. I offer these things because they are what I seek, not so much because I am an exhibitionist (which of course I *am*, a little, but not to the extent that I'm a voyeur). I know I would like to catch someone at her desk, awkwardly masturbating and not acknowledging me at all. I do not want it to be sexy or a "show", I want it to be authentic and authenticity is often measured in my book by how ugly it is. The more unattractive it is, the better. As the masturbator? I expect the voyeurs not to try to engage me during this process. It's *private*. That's the whole *point*. It's not supposed to look like porn, it's supposed to be real, and for it to be real, you cannot interrupt or inject yourself into the scene.
One of the things that continues to be a challenge for me as a webwhore is being able to share my turn-ons without making them sound like an invitation OR an insult. I'm a very solitary, private person in many ways, so I sometimes get overwhelmed trying to preserve alone-time; I wind up going too far in my attempts to maintain distance, to the point where it backfires on me and sometimes hurts people's feelings. How do I explain that I love watching guys jacking off on ink-rippled homemade print-outs of naked chicks or faces with their mouths open, but that when I masturbate to this I don't want to turn it into an interactive event? How do I then qualify that to say, "UNLESS you're paying me to interact with you while you do that, in which case it's totally hot!" (which is true; if you pay for my time, providing I have ample amounts of it free, then I *prefer* doing shows where I get to watch someone else masturbate; I just don't want to do that when I have a sudden 2-5 minutes when I desperately need to bust my own private girl nut).
I drafted the above entry almost a year ago and never finished/posted it. Like a lot of public posts about "what makes me horny", I feel compelled to ruin the hotness by outlining boundaries to preserve what's left of my . . . personal space, I guess you'd call it.
The weird thing is that not long after I wrote this my feeling about it changed. I became very interested in the concept of guys jerking off on my pictures and wasn't sure I wanted to send a message totally discouraging it. It's something I would like to see without them knowing I'm seeing/hearing it. I do not want to be under pressure to respond to it, but in certain situations I think I'd enjoy that, perhaps if the jerker paid for a phone call for me to (gently but pointedly) humiliate him for doing it. Or INSTRUCTED him to do it again. Maybe on the same picture. Because if I were going to TELL someone to jerk off on my picture(s), I'd make sure he knew he's not allowed to throw any of these photos away. Instead he'd have to keep every single one, including pictures of other women (with a few men thrown in for good measure). And maybe if his printer ran out of ink he'd have to reuse an already-jerked-on print-out.
This idea became so exciting to me, I began to think I'd like to collect videos of people jerking off on our pictures to post in the members-only area TrixiesHouseboy. Or sending us pictures of themselves (a la Philip Seymour Hoffman's character in Happiness) in front of a whole wall of damp printouts glued up with cum.
Part of me is telling myself you don't REALLY want to see that, Trixie. You really don't. And another part is quite certain she does.
If my "porn" were standing before the judges on American Idol, Simon would totally call it self-indulgent nonsense. Like shooting almost entirely non-nude sets of pictures with a ren-fairish flavor just because I REALLY LIKE WEARING LONG VELVET DRESSES AND THIS IS MY FAVORITE NECKLACE AND I LIKE PRANCING AROUND IN THE FOREST!! From my latest members-only update:
Most people don't "get" non-nude or softcore porn, and I do think there's a bigger market for straightforward explicit hardcore sex (and I myself prefer to masturbate to fairly explicit, genital-oriented content, though not the generic kind), but make no mistake . . . there's definitely a market for the soft stuff. I'm not sure, but I'm *guessing* that its appeal diminishes the older the model gets, but I could be wrong. I *hope* I'm wrong. Because I will proceed as though I *am* wrong about that. Because I'm totally a self-indulgent softcore kind of lady. Well, not totally. Which is what makes my site difficult to categorize since I love hardcore stuff, too.
Running a personality site means I'm selling myself -- intimate access to WHO I am -- as much as jack-off material (which is everywhere nowadays for free), but maintaining a balance can be a challenge particularly since the balance other people want to see really varies. There are a lot of people who think the porno stuff is boring and others who think the "self-indulgent" softcore/personally revealing stuff is boring. I don't get that information from my own members (who I guess usually know it's futile/counter-productive to complain about what I do/don't do), but from surfing around and reading the variety of opinions/assumptions on this matter. I gave up on trying to please "everybody" a long time ago, but still feel self-conscious sometimes KNOWING that people will look at some of what I put out there, particularly something they paid for, and will be dissatisfied. Even when you know you can't please everybody, you still feel crappy sometimes that you can't. That you know someone will be distinctly UNhappy because you're older, because you're too nasty, because you're not nasty enough, because you're shaved, because you're hairy, because you're too quiet or not quiet enough. It's a constant challenge to silence that chatter in your head of what other people might be thinking and listen only to what you yourself want and think. But when I do, I hear that I want more cheap, stretchy, crushed-velvet dresses from the thrift store. I want more of the scenery I love that is home to me. I want more cleavage and swooning and vulgar meaty thighs.
I like being suggestive without fully delivering. I wonder how much of that's a (mostly) chick thing -- enjoying having a scene set and characters drawn and then using your own imagination to fill in the blanks to your own liking whereas (most) men want all of the blanks filled in for them in explicit, glossy detail. I have actually been thinking about duplicating and reformatting the way I present some of my softcore picture sets in order to fill in some of those blanks, or ramp up to the nudity in a way that makes it feel more like a money shot once you get to it, but I'm not sure I'll ever have time for that project. I think it would be very effective, though.
Lately I feel a little tempted to stop updating my site as frequently and focus more on marketing Delia's site. Financially, that would make a lot of sense, but I don't want to do that. The fact that Delia's site significantly outsells mine does free me up to think of her site as the bread and butter that allows me to totally fuck around on mine and do whatever I want without worrying that we'll lose our main source of income when I alienate all of my members. Not that this would happen, but the appeal of Delia's site compared to mine does give me a sense of freedom that it's not all about me. It doesn't all rely upon me. That's a huge relief that allows me to end these annoying trains of insecure thought on a positive note and go back to indulging in my own flights of fancy. In the forest! Twirling around in a long dress! Wearing a gypsy necklace with amethysts! And what more do people want than my boobies, anyway?
You always hope for good weather when you're shooting outside. Actually, you basically COUNT on having PERFECT weather. "Good" weather doesn't always cut it. Like today, when I wanted it to be gloomy, but not actually rain or snow. Instead it's sunny. Bright blue. Too loud.
Delia's getting ready for me to shoot her but the light is just not right at all.
I could have a spycam on me right now in our motel room while I blog this but I don't want to.
Sometimes it makes me nervous when I communicate shoot ideas/plans to people because I'm afraid they'll get their hopes up for something really creative and amazing based on how much work and planning we seem to be putting in it. And of course it never winds up being THAT great / is still pretty generic. At best everything is still sort of a rough draft of a good idea. Shows potential. Meets or exceeds a sort of bland standard of certain amateur porn things. We'd have to shoot a lot less to do a lot better or have a lot more resources and people working for us or stay up all day and night. People sweetly encourage me, "just shoot less! Shoot what *you* want!" but I don't think you can make money that way. The better and higher quality your work is, the less there is of it and the easier it is for people to "steal" and pass around. Have you noticed that on the internet? The more beautiful something is, the more people feel they have a collective right to enjoy it for free and share it with each other. This is great! Everyone should know about it! It's an extremely flattering compliment that can wind up starving you to death.
I could pull out a lot of things we do and present them in a different way to make them seem better than they are, but I can't seem to find time for that. And again, I'm still proud of mediocrity and just having potential. It's a very good thing to make pictures that make people happy every week, are genuine, straightforward, show promise, suggest a certain mood. I think I'm good at that: being suggestive.
I have a hard time accepting compliments that make our work seem better than it is. I also can't help feeling defensive towards people who think what we do is easy or that they have solutions to challenges I complain about, solutions they are sure would work and certain have never crossed my mind or been attempted or dismissed because they wouldn't work for a variety of reasons.
I remember standing outside our local movie theater listening to some blow-hards talking about what THEY would do if THEY owned the local theaters. Why don't they do X and Y? It would be simple . . . if I owned it, X would be the first thing I'd do. I hate those people even though I do exactly the same thing. Maybe that's why I hate those people; because I can't resist being a stupid know-it-all either, even when I know I don't. It's people's way of being part of the conversation when they really are in no position to comment at all. I just really hate being the subject of other people's imaginary business-plan hobby-thoughts myself, but I guess I encourage it to a certain extent. Love it up to a certain point. I want people to think of the growth of our business as a serial novel, something they want to keep reading about and hope will end well and spawn many sequels. I just don't want them to tell me how to write it. But with some people you can't have one without the other. I don't blame them since I can't resist doing the same thing sometimes. And some of them really mean well. They really do.
Have you ever thought about X? I would totally read that! I'm sure it would make you rich! You know, I saw you on cam for ten minutes last week and I really think what your problem is . . . Hey, I'll bet if you did more of Z a lot more people would jack off to you! Z is totally where it's at.
Every time we go away from home to shoot I go through a little process. First I'm anxious that we'll forget to pack something, that things won't go as planned, that we won't get enough work done. Then I realize everything is going to be fine, and if it isn't, I might as well enjoy the time away as time off, well-deserved. Then I get a fresh perspective since I'm away from home/work and a million distractions and have a little flexibility to think clearly. About what I want. About what I REALLY WANT TO DO. If I could only do one thing.
I'm at the point where I know what that one thing is, even when I'm at home and not away. But I'm not at the point of wanting or being able to give all my other work up in favor of that one thing and don't know if I ever will be. I still cling to the notion that it might be possible to do it all. Or that I should do other things first in order to make doing the one thing easier, foremost and full-time, without having to give a fuck what anybody else thinks of it.
If I could be good at any one thing -- if I were to invest 10,000 hours of practice in attempting to master it -- I know exactly what the one thing would be. I used to think forty-five would be too old to start being good at something, but now I think it would be perfect. Even fifty would be fine. Which means I don't really need to start practicing right now to be completely satisfied with myself in fifteen years. I'm comforted by this thought.
I started taking piano lessons when I was about nine years old. My teacher, Joan, didn't believe in using metronomes and always had long, fancy nails even though pianists aren't supposed to. At some point during the first year of lessons, she told me that music is really all about MATH.
No math = no music. A huge revelation for me as a kid. It's a big truth that's never left me. At first my feelings about it were a little conflicted; it was sort of stressful ("I'm so bad at fractions!"), but realizing that math is the foundation of music (or at least one doorway into building and understanding it) never sucked the romance or beauty out of it. It never made it dry to me. It can be invisible enough that you don't actually NEED to know it or think about it for it to be in there. That lesson primed me to notice as years went by that math and science are built into nature and art and our insides. That the basics of them are intuitive, like rhythm, but the more you know about the math and science of something, the better your music or art or appreciation of those things can be.
Knowing that art is really science has been a solace to me -- art isn't reserved only for a few people who are divinely inspired. It can be orderly: accessed and created systematically. With simple formulas. With a wide variety of tools mixed with individual perspective, personality and tastes to make it seem unique and magical, disguising the numbers in the craft of it.
I shot a set of pictures of Delia wearing some hot Hello Kitty shorts on Friday night and the photos are all jacked up. I'm a long way from understanding the science of photography; I *like* numbers, but they don't stick in my head very well so even though I've read about how cameras work and how OUR camera works I still don't have it committed to memory or know how to manipulate light and settings quickly to achieve what I want. I have to just walk around and fiddle with things until I mostly-accidentally happen onto something lovely. Most of the good pictures I take are the product of luck and shooting A LOT without fully comprehending what I'm doing. I recognize what looks good and beautiful and erotic to me (or at least halfway decent) and what looks bad to me and have a few basic practices for making the former (especially in the "halfway decent" category) and avoiding the latter, but my technical skills are pretty basic.
All of the pics looked dark to me so I bumped the ISO up to 1000 or 2500, I forget now (hence the graininess) and the speed down to 25 or 30 -- they still looked dark for some reason; I was letting the camera auto-focus (selecting the area to focus on myself with these little movable box thingies; I forget what Nikon calls that function but it didn't seem to be working well on this particular night) and adjust the aperture itself until I decided to do a closeup and switched everything to manual (because it balks when we ask it to autofocus macros); suddenly everything was WAY TOO BRIGHT and I had to change the shutter speed. The only thing I can think of is that the camera wasn't doing a good job of automatically adjusting the aperture and when I switched to manual and adjusted it myself then everything changed. It sucked because we wanted these pics to be bright.
The older I get, the more I see that MOST working artists -- writers, photographers, graphic designers, sculptors, painters, musicians, etc. -- are just people who've chosen to do that kind of work. That the only thing that sets them apart from the rest of us is the amount of time they put into their art and confidence they have in devoting themselves to it without worrying whether or not a jury of peers think they deserve to make money on it. Very few artists are people who actually possess something innate that the rest of us don't have; most of it is taking the time to learn and apply information that's available to everyone (or anyone with the resources to do a little research) and then investing money in the right tools and lots of time in practicing. Sometimes I think the most successful artists are the ones who are actually LESS gifted and too stupid/overconfident to recognize that there are other people (usually making zero dollars on their art) who are WAY more talented. Maybe the only way to be a successful "artist" is to NOT be great -- to not complicate shit with too much vision, originality, or diverse techniques and just work from simple formulas to make things that are easily recognizable and accessible to the masses. See also Adaptation. If your work brings other people pleasure does it really NEED to be super duper excellent?
The older I get, the happier I am with shooting for mediocrity. Even mediocrity requires a lot of hard work (for me, at least). Mediocrity is attainable without being a given; you can stand out and make a decent living in a field simply by being one of the relative few to 1) choose that field, 2) commit to it for a number of years, and 3) make yourself known. All the better if you're willing to take emotional and financial risks and make sacrifices for your work/"art". The happier you are with mediocrity the wider your success. I've slowly shifted my focus of "pride" away from "talent" and pinned it on "work"; you can't be proud of having good taste or being born with certain attributes making you better suited than most to doing one job or another. Those are only things you can be THANKFUL for. The things you can actually be PROUD of are hard work, dedication and defying convention to choose happiness. To call yourself an artist as soon as you choose to be one -- to make it your job -- rather than waiting until you imagine other people think you are good enough to deserve that label. Those are the people I admire more and more, the ones who are brave & devoted enough to create some form of art (even if it's just fair to middlin') and are savvy enough to make it a business.
I used to think having to work hard at something or take a lot of time to make something acceptable was something to be ashamed and embarrassed of. If it wasn't easy it meant I wasn't good at it. Now I realize that's total bullshit (even if I still FEEL that way sometimes). The strategic choices and commitments you make to invest work in things that make you happy, better, more skilled, or even just capable of seeing you should make a different choice (I've always believed that quitting is something to be proud of; that whole "quitters never win" line is such a crock of shit). The time you spend allowing yourself to suck ass -- IMMERSING yourself in sucking ass and slowly filling in the void of your ignorance with knowledge -- just so you can become mediocre at something you love and then keep working to try to improve upon that. Beyond mediocrity there are so few people who are actually able to recognize the difference between mediocrity and greatness, there's no reason to beat yourself up if you're not capable of becoming that elite.
Being a "jack of all trades, master of none" ROCKS. It's fun, it's challenging, and I don't love any one thing enough to give up all the other stuff. So I really have to be satisfied with mediocrity, slow progress, and making balanced choices to devoting little bits of time here and there to different things I love. Like making flash cards to learn photography stuff. You're never too old for flash cards. I'm not, anyway.
I am mediocre at so many things, and have managed to balance (with great mediocrity) such a gigantic shitload of different kinds of work that I deserve to be quite proud of myself and my extraordinary mediocrity. I feel so blessed to be in a position to dabble so widely. Lucky lucky lucky, and proud of myself for creating a notable percentage that luck by my choices. For recognizing my luck and exploiting it to the best of my limited ability.
Some of us are able to do our work just because we're lucky enough to have the resources to buy tools, to live in an environment filled with inspiration and/or to be close to people who make beautiful subjects and do most of the art/work for you.
I love arranging forkfuls of food. Ones where I have the perfect ratio of one thing to the other(s). Mashed potatoes to gravy to meat. Raisins to flakes. Heavens to Betsy. It doesn't have to be fancy, the formula just has to be right. Everything pleasingly arranged in relation to each other. I will never be a good cook because I don't want to practice how to be; that's Delia's thing. It's my job just to love eating, every day, tasting and swallowing over and over and saying thank you, honey.. And to figure out how to arrange camera settings like food on a fork, adjusting hole-sizes, timing mechanisms, and digitally tweaking things in perfect relation to the kind of light shining on my girlfriend.
You don't need me to tell you that times are financially tough right now for a lot of people. You might be curious, though, whether or not recessions and looming depressions have an effect on our porn site sales. The answer? Yes, sales have been a little harder for us to make but overall I feel much more secure than I would in almost any other industry. The main sign we've seen that people's wallets are thin is that we get more denied credit cards.
My main financial concerns right now are not about falling sales, they're just about having finally reached our limit, unfortunately right at the time when banks and everyone else have reached theirs. I try not to feel a sense of shame or failure about my debt load regardless of how our country tells us that we little people are to blame for overextending ourselves or for being given loans and lines of credit we somehow didn't deserve. Our only mistake was being born poor while extremely unscrupulous banking bigwigs are bailed out for fucking people anally with insanely high interest rates. Example: it cracks me up that Citibank not only gets away with raising my interest rate and leveling late charges against me for sending a payment in on time that I accidentally wrote for fifty-seven cents less than the minimum payment that month (YES I have written them letters to no avail), but taxpayers get to foot the bill to save their fucking asses.
I'm getting off track.
Point is, after filing our taxes in October (yes, totally late) and maxing ourselves out like crazy we simply need to make more sales. Really, there is no excuse for us not to be making much more money at this point except that we tend to focus more on keeping our members happy than on actually, you know, FINDING MORE MEMBERS. It would be nice if we could do it all, but at this point we need to cut back on some things and rearrange others, at least until we meet some financial goals. So here are a couple of changes we/I are making:
*REALISTIC NUMBER OF WEBCAM SHOWS EVERY OTHER WEEK. Delia and I have been doing an insane number of shows for too many years: around twenty a month between the two of us. Most girls or couples with sites like ours who actually do live webcam shows do one or two a week, so maybe three to eight shows a month. Frankly it was sucking way too much sexual energy out of our relationship, leaving us very little free time to be spontaneous or go on shooting sprees or, you know, take a day or two off here and there.
We're now scheduling a couple days of webcam shows a couple times a month/every other week. It still averages out to at least two shows a week this way, but that's still less than what we have been doing and will give us more breathing room in-between to shoot videos and have recreational sex with each other.
Doing fewer camshows will also open up time to promote our sites in other ways; the truth is that the cam networks stopped being good places to get new members a long time ago. Even the girls who put on great shows and bend over backwards to be great orgasmic little entertainers do not make great sales because of those webcam shows. I will save explaining why for a different blog entry, but suffice to say right now there are more efficient ways of bringing in new sales; at a time like now we simply need to be more efficient.
*FEWER HOURS IN CHAT I really really love getting to know our members and think an active chatroom with a readily-available hostess is a really awesome feature to have on a porn/spycam site. I've had many awesome conversations in chat and gotten to know people I consider friends. Unfortunately, I probably spent way too much time in spycam chat over the years when I should have been focusing more on marketing my site. Now it's at the point where I really don't have a choice and need to spend those hours promoting our sites (especially Delia's because it outsells mine three to one).
I hate to say it, but I just don't have enough members to justify scheduling so many hours in chat. I've tried to find ways to make it work, and I feel like the same small handful of people are coming in just so I don't feel bad sitting in there alone. Combined with being burned out from all the camshows and being under pressure in other ways, I'm also just not as energetic an entertainer as I once was, anyway, so it's probably not a very enticing feature anymore. I am, however, continuing to pay for our members-only chatroom (the plugin is only $12.50 a month, but still) and am popping in there every so often and scheduling chats here and there. I've also added a separate twitter feed on the spycam, chat and shows pages to notify people of upcoming chats and shows and spycam stuff.
I've made a goal for myself that once Delia has 750 members and I have 500 members, I will add 15+ hours of chat per month back into the schedule as long as we can maintain those numbers and people seem to enjoy the chats. I know that 1250 members sounds like a lot, but in the grand scheme of things it's inexcusable that we don't have that many and more members right now. When I see the way other porn sites have tons of members and offer so much less than we do, it really makes me mad at myself because there's no reason we cannot be comfortable, debt-free and have the resources we need to make our sites better.
I just can't justify doing as much as we've been doing and staying so deeply in debt. I'm getting too old for it and it's taking too much of a toll on me. I need to buckle down and sell the fuck out of our sites, especially Delia's because she has much less competition.
*LOOSEY-GOOSEY UPDATES For about five years I was very rigid about my update schedule for members, posting something new every week, and for many years on the exact same DAY each week. I still feel like that's the ideal way to do things (scheduled updates one or more times a week, depending on whether or not the site has anything else going for it).
Once we made our sites all-access (join one you get them all) I tried to relax a little on that and am finally feeling less anal about it. Now I am focused on our network of sites added ten or more new things each month, which isn't two hard considering that we have DeliaCD, TastyTrixie, AmberLily, SpyOnUs and TrixiesHouseboy (which is paralyzed right now, but I digress). Still, I have been asking too much of myself and not really giving myself the opportunities to excel at what I do best and WANT to do most at any given time. When I see other sites that I think are great (and so do their members) and they don't get all crazy freaking out on themselves for not updating like clockwork, I have to think I'm just sabotaging myself with self-criticism and essentially also disrespecting the work my colleagues do; if it's good enough for them, why isn't it good enough for me?
This was especially apparent to me when AmberLily joined our network; it was a sudden thing, so we didn't plan on it by having a bunch of our own content queued up ready to go while we did the things we needed to do to help get her site up on our server and attached to us. It wasn't that anything I did was particularly HARD, but it did take a lot of hours making phone calls, designing a tour, negotiating stuff, etc. Lots of little things that made me happy to do, but meant I didn't have time to do other things. I *should* have said, "hey members! This month I won't be posting new updates but AmberLily's joining us and you will have her entire site to explore to make up for it!" But I didn't do that.
From now on, I NEED to do that; realize I can't do it all, and be proud of what I *do* do, and satisfied that it is enough instead of thinking all will be lost unless I run myself into the ground. The opposite is proving to be true (duh): all will be lost if I continue to run myself ragged. I'm totally out of gas, which is sad especially when there are a number of women who would like to join our network of sites and I simply don't have time and energy to invest in working with them right now.
There are tons of things I've neglected to do that I need to get taken care of, like redesigning the free areas and blogs for pretty much all of our paysites. How many years have I had the same confusing design on this blog and my site that is now totally outdated with pages of broken things, old pictures, etc.? It's just unacceptable. And no, I am not listening to anybody who gives me shit about all my other little "projects" and how if I didn't waste time with them I could finish all these neglected necessaries. Bullshit. If I didn't allow myself to go off on tangents, then half of the reward of working for myself would be totally fucking DELETED. Whatever makes me want to do those things is the same thing that makes me good at the things people PAY for.
Oh, and speaking of what people pay for, I still really miss doing phone sex, private shows and the potential to do other one-on-one stuff; another set of things I'd like to mix back into my life soon or when we meet some of those money goals.
Basically I am *considering* posting fewer updates to the TastyTrixie members area for a few months or until I feel/look healthier. Lately I've been doubling up on them/posting "late", mostly because I haven't been happy with a lot of my content and sit on updates until I have something "better" to go with them. In fact, that's what I've been doing with a set of pictures that I edited this week and really kind of hate.
Mostly I guess I need to stop making promises and just focus on making content. And even more than that, SALES. Note: it's not that our content isn't good enough to make sales or that we don't have enough of it or that our members-only areas are lacking; that isn't the problem at all. It's simply that the webmasters promoting most porn sites don't know how to promote us, or have never heard of us because we have no advertising budget, or it's just not worth it to them to promote us because we can't pay them as much as these big sites do (yet another subject for another blog entry) or we don't give them enough free content in the format they like with a lot of bells and whistles and things to make it super-easy (I totally understand why this puts us at a disadvantage).
I know this is a really long post and maybe a total bore to most people, but I feel like I needed to communicate this stuff in writing and by posting it, make a commitment to it myself. Long story short, we need to focus on meeting some attainable, yet very immediately necessary sales goals. I have to close two of my credit card accounts before they raise the interest rates to some even-more god-awful amount; this shit is getting down to the wire and we simply have to stop living on the edge.
One of my favorite books about "unschooling" tells readers that when you allow a young person to escape the lock-step of traditional schools, the person usually needs three months or more to get it out of their system and have their natural curiosity well up enough to be motivated to take advantage of other learning opportunities. Note: there are many things I love about traditional schools AND alternative approaches to education; I'm not knocking schools, just using this as an example. As I've alluded to in recent posts, making great life-changing decisions doesn't always yield immediate relief and results and instant accomplishments; I've been pretty exhausted and overwhelmed on a bunch of different levels so I really don't expect everything to magically be PERFECT and I hope my members are patient and understand that too, though I totally understand if people feel like canceling and perhaps coming back later when I have more to offer.
I'm really looking forward to getting back to making our spycams more entertaining, focusing on Delia's and my relationship to each other, and feeling better about my body. Today's the seventh day in a row I've exercised and I know by the time the new year rolls around I'm going to feel a million percent better (if the holidays don't kill me ;).
Let me toss some tgirl-on-tgirl porn at you before I get all personal and diary-ish(click for free pics & sample vid):
This is my favorite photo in the samples and in general that whole shoot was really hot to watch, plus I love that the resulting porn is both explicit and very sensual. I need to work on my skills as a photographer shooting people other than Delia, though. With Mandy and AmberLily I didn't do a good job of stopping them and asking them to hold "poses", so as a result there were lots of blurry and awkward shots -- good ones, too, but could've been better. We're still getting used to our new camera which is FAST, but since we don't shoot with a flash or a lot of light we still have to MODEL semi-slowly even though it's tempting when you hear the shutter flying along to dance fluidly along.
Life is good -- there are lots of things going on with me which are mostly connected with making a concerted effort to have LESS things going on and focus on a few high priority things. Right now my personal priorities are:
-exercising consistently (today will be five days in a row) -eating less sugar and starches -going to twelve step meetings & getting healthier emotionally and spiritually -cutting back on a few things to make room for a) making money more efficiently and b) doing more things that I love
The past couple of years my body has become more and more of a challenge for me to feel good about, mostly because I never got into the habit of taking care of it except for getting enough sleep. With the added pressure (and wake-up-calls) of trying to get pregnant but not being able to, it's gotten to the point where I feel really shitty with a litany of symptoms and complaints and hypochondriac fantasies. Long story short, I need to put myself and my health first before everything (and everybody) else.
A lot of times I sacrifice my own needs and desires to work which really is stupid because I can't *do* this kind of work very well when my body feels like shit and I don't provide myself with pleasure on all levels. I can barely stand to look at myself which is, ummm, pretty counterproductive for shooting porn (and editing/posting/selling it myself where I have to look at myself and love myself to do a good job). It's not that everything looks shitty, but seriously -- it's not only difficult for me to bend over to tie my shoes these days, it's PHYSICALLY PAINFUL. My guts fucking hurt.
Before people rush to simple judgments like, "duh! That's what happens when you sit on your ass all day", etc. let me offer a little perspective and extend some leniency to myself; there are definitely some hormonal problems contributing to my issues (all of the thyroid / infertility / depression / migraine / too-much-testosterone stuff and more all connected in a which-came-first/chicken-egg circle of insanity) plus the stuff we've been going through with alcoholism that no one has really been aware of or how it's been effecting us; *I* haven't even been aware of how much of my energy was going into trying to cope with it.
One of the unexpected bonuses of Delia getting sober is that I got to enter recovery too. Only I totally didn't anticipate how hard it would be or that I would totally fucking freak out (which I did, surprisingly, really fall-the-fuck apart the first month and couldn't really understand why when I thought I would just feel relieved and everything would be bliss and perfection). Now that Delia is sober and I'm not constantly thinking about her and trying to control her drinking, I'm left with the way bigger, scarier challenge and problem of mySELF and my own fucked-upedness. Patterns of behavior and sickness that I had before Delia and I ever even met.
I feel really optimistic, excited and fortunate right now, but I also feel like I need a lot of space and time and patience to get healthy in more ways than one. It takes more than a week or a month or three months or a year to feel relief, to figure out what to change (and what IS changing whether you want it to or not), to adapt, and to grow into new ways of doing things. I'm kind of tired and have a lot of stuff to process and let go of so just mending my body, our relationship and going to meetings right now is enough to keep me very occupied. I'd say that I'm sorry I don't have more left over to spread around and to keep doing all the things I was trying to do, but I'm not sorry. I'm happy to be focused on what's important.
Note: I'm leaving comments open for people who want to remark on the Delia & Mandy shoot or those who have their own personal sharing/relating on the subjects I talked about, but I usually do not feel helped by comments containing unsolicited advice, analysis of me/us/our lives and/or criticism even when I know they're well-intentioned.
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.
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":
If you follow my twitter you know I went to Seattle for FootNight on Thursday thanks to AmberLily giving me a heads-up about the event and encouraging me to apply with her to be a "foot model". It was a good opportunity to get out of my nerdy hermit bubble and enjoy having my feet fondled (something I've always enjoyed).
It was also a good excuse for me to get a pedicure: an expense and investment of time I rarely can justify since I don't specialize in foot fetish porn (though we do try to include at least a few shots of my feet in most of my galleries).
99.99% of the sexually stimulating work I've done has been on the internet or over the phone, starting out with private shows on iFriends in 2000. Even though I enjoy private shows and phone, I have almost no time to do one-on-one stuff anymore (especially since the camworld is so much different from when I started) but I *miss* it, so attending FootNight was a way to get back to that a little bit while also experiencing something new in a safe environment with an emphasis on something I love: feet.
The rules were very clear for the event (no nudity, foot worship only, no direct sexual contact, no leaving the party with customers and coming back in, etc.) and all of the women were dressed to attend a nice cocktail party or fine art fetish shoot: black turtleneck dresses, shiny black corsets, etc. In my estimation, I was the only one dressed in a way that said, "it's all for sale, boys! I'm a total hussy!" with my blouse buttons bursting, my skirt way too short and my boobs bouncing all over the place. I was also the most nervous person there, I think, next to many of the guests with my knees practically knocking trying to walk up and down the stairs in my unimpressively practical (but still challenging for me) heels and very unsophisticated sweat stains accumulating under my arms. The truth is that I don't have any classy party garb that's also sexy/leg-baring that I can still fit into.
Besides, I didn't want to go to great lengths to "fit in"; I figured it was better to stand out looking like a tramp than try to blend in. On top of that I love upskirts and panties and have much more of that kind of thing than feet on my site so I was excited by the idea of having men on the ground below me able to see right up my skirt to my hot pink and black panties. Even if it wasn't THEIR thing, it's MY thing; I don't get out much and planned to milk the tease for all it was worth.
I don't actually think I have great feet; the only thing I have going for me is that they're exceptionally small, but at the party there were A LOT of women with small feet. Maybe not quite as small as mine, but there were plenty of size five and six chicks there. All that small-foot competition gave me yet another reason to be glad I had a corner on the market for the super-slutty look.
So WAS there a market for it? Not so much, I don't think, but wearing something less conspicuously trashy wouldn't have made a difference. There were a couple of guys who expressed quite a bit of appreciation for the upskirt action, but as far as I know I didn't have guys waiting in line to spend time with me and my feet at $20 for ten minutes. I kept busy and had fun, but probably only gained one new die-hard fan for the future.
The first guy to give me money wasn't even there because he liked feet. He was there on a mission with a bottle of Scotch to try to get back into Lady Lydia's good graces. He told me he'd been rude to her on the phone so she'd stopped talking to him and all he could hope for is that she would accept his gift, if not his apology.
In the process of relating this to me, he reached into his pocket with defeated contrition, pulled out a twenty and assured me that he KNEW the ONLY reason we ladies were there was to make money. "I know it's all business and I don't want to waste your time." I told him that if he was going to pay me, we should at least retreat to a more private area (ie a different couch farther from the door) so I could make sure to give him the time that he paid for even if he didn't care about my feet or really anything besides Lady Lydia. He and I also agreed that our move and the open exchange of money for time would serve as a model early in the evening for the other guys to take similar steps to secure special attention from the "models".
After forty dollars worth of talking he felt compelled to resume his tortured quest to adequately humble himself to Lady Lydia. Even though it was the first face-to-face transaction I'd made like that, it felt very familiar . . . very natural to the point where I'm sure I'm forgetting a whole lifetime of doing exactly that: being the whore that men pay just to listen. Of course there've been a few other times I've gotten money from men face-to-face for certain things, but the circumstances were less formal and the terms not at all clearcut. No, I don't think I ever blogged about them even though they'd make interesting reading. Much of my limited experience with photographers felt exactly like sex work too, even though they took great pains not to call it that -- not to even call it porn -- and they didn't pay me with money; all factors that made it MORE compromising and awkward than work that's commonly labeled as sex work.
Anyway, Lydia's guy probably only wanted to spend twenty dollars on me out of obligation because I'd practically forced him to tell me his story simply by introducing myself, but my timer's battery wore out making it difficult for me to keep accurate time. I'm still not sure if my unreliable timer worked in my favor or against me; on the one hand I wound up giving people more time than they paid for before I realized the timer had no intention of beeping. On the other, they sometimes paid for more since I would discover this too late for them to turn down the next ten minutes since they were already in progress. We were advised by the party organizers to keep a discreet eye on the time but my timer was NOT discreet AT ALL; I pulled that fucker out at the beginning of every session and beeped in ten or eleven minutes in a very obvious way, nerdily assuring them this would help me NOT be distracted from the fun we could have by worrying about the time while they raised their eyebrows and mumbled that I certainly was . . . prepared. If it had actually worked and sounded an alarm at the end of those minutes, I'm sure it would have annoyed a great many people so maybe it was all for the best.
I felt busy the whole time I was there, but didn't really make enough for the trip to be worth what I put into it between the pedicure, ferry, gas, and time that I could have spent doing more lucrative things (like finishing the years-overdue redesign on my site and Delia's and this blog and . . .). Still, it was worth it to me because it was FUN, super-erotic (I'll elaborate on in another post) and a reminder of how good it feels to connect with customers individually.
It was also worth it to have BigD snap his suspenders at me, "work" with AmberLily to doubleteam a guy with our feet (again, I'll elaborate in another entry), and to meet Lydia (I only realized when I got home that she's the one Ron has told me so much about with so much admiration), Reyja (a fellow Emma Steel), and Mistress Matisse. We women didn't have much time to stand around chatting with each other, but after so many years of reading Matisse's blog and communicating online even the little bit we have via email and blog comments it felt to me like we were cousins at a reunion. You know how there are people that feel like they're in your life -- that you're related to in some way -- even though you only see each other face-to-face a couple times in your life and rarely interact? That's what it was like being in the same room with Matisse: totally uncommon but still irrationally familiar. In fact, that's what being with customers face-to-face is like. There wasn't anything weird or new about it that I didn't recognize as the same as a million other interactions I've had and kinds of work I've done which is probably what made it so hard for me to accept that I couldn't just climb on top of a couple of these guys and fuck them dry for a few dollars more. Not that any of them asked for that (everything was very above-board, no-pressure, polite, and legal), I'm just saying it's hard for me to accept the stigmas, restrictions, and separateness attached to sex work and all the little subtleties built into some of them so that they can avoid being labeled as such.
Over the weekend we were blessed by a visit from AmberLily and her husband. It was a working visit, meaning we weren't getting together *just* to socialize, but mainly to shoot a bunch of pics for her site. Delia and I looked forward to doing this knowing it would feel totally awesome to get a lot of work done without actually having to be in front of the camera ourselves the way we are when we shoot each other. Instead we got to totally devote ourselves to behind-the-camera work which is really so much easier with two people not just to actually TAKE the pictures, but to set up lights, move/clean stuff, etc. It was a good experiment to find out how productive we can be when a bunch of roles/tasks are subtracted from our routine.
I don't want to ruin the surprise of her cute outfits too much for her members, so here are some samples that won't reveal all of her sexy and whimsical ensembles:
I totally hogged the camera the whole time which was fun for ME, but by the end of the night a lot of the pics I snapped were totally fucked: poorly framed, blurry, etc. It's very physical work, both modeling for pictures and taking them; my "muscles" were totally sore the next day, but that didn't stop me from TRYING to get BigD to pose for me.
I *achingly yearn* for more resources (aka money) to be able to shoot with friends in nicer places for longer periods of time without such a limited schedule and the same boring house we've been living in for years. It boggles my mind to think of how much hot porno we could make if we weren't bound by, you know, huge debt and stuff. Until that day comes, however, we're doing a pretty good job with the time and other resources we DO have. If we could do all that we did in five hours, I wonder what we could do with a week or two in more inspiring and spacious locations? You can scoff at the necessity of those things when it comes to porn, but if you do then you've no idea how hard it is to frame thousands of photos to look reasonably special/different so that you don't include a mess, carpet stain, wires, light stands, and other distracting crap that your subject (and her hot HOT pussy) is squeezed between.
After our trip to my psychiatrist, we drove a little more to spend the night with our friend, Ron Carlo. We had an idea for a new porn site to pitch to him and wound up staying awake until 4:30 in the morning excitedly talking about it and brainstorming. Here's the domain and a little of the concept:
I know, you're thinking I'm crazy, always coming up with ideas that I don't have time to develop, but that's the beauty of this one; we aren't doing it alone. Delia and I can do a lot (we DO do a lot) as a couple, but adding just one more awesome person to the mix expands the possibilities exponentially.
While this is a business venture, I'm more excited about it for personal and creative reasons. It's an excuse to spend more time with Ron (and his family when we're not actually shooting) and it really is true that so much more can be accomplished by a team than by individuals. The difference between two people and three is GIGANTIC, especially when that third person has tools, skills, talents, and experience that we don't have. Ron knows what it takes to produce and market video and music on a variety of different budgets and timelines and his experience is super-varied. He is very familiar with our sites. We are familiar with each other's tastes and turn-ons. Over the past three years or so of working with him on projects like this one and True Necromance, we know each other's strengths and weaknesses, we get along really well, we are comfortable being honest with each other, our personalities balance each other out, we have a lot of important things in common with him and hanging out with him always uncorks a deluge of creativity. I LOVE THAT! He is resourceful, funny, optimistic, encouraging, smart, well-rounded, and he treats people with dignity and respect.
The rest of his family shares those qualities which is important since spending a lot of time with him also means visiting with his family (though not shooting porn with them) since we don't have an office or studio (and because we like them). My family knows about and is supportive of my work and I know that makes a huge difference in how I *feel* about being a webwhore; it makes me really happy to work with people who are similarly blessed with supportive and creative family members. I know it sounds hokey, but the "energy" is just better when people aren't keeping secrets from their loved ones and can talk about work with them. The second time we worked with Ron it was at his house where his wife is the one who picked out and sewed my costume and dressed me. Everywhere in the house was evidence of the things they value: art, activism, education, music, etc. They are people we care about which adds an extra incentive to this project and our desire for it to succeed.
Somehow this post is sounding like a letter of recommendation which isn't what I intended, it's just me counting our many blessings and sharing PART of why we are so excited about this project. We've been dying to branch out, shoot other people and do more creative things with our porn -- things that we can continue to do as we get older that showcase more of our personalities and assets than the physical ones. We are so lucky Ron is excited and willing to take a risk on this project with us; the concept is something completely unique to him and an exaggeration of dynamics that could really only exist between the three of us. We would not and could not put this together alone or with anyone besides Ron. We can't wait to see what emerges in two months, six months, a year from now and so on.
In the meantime, Delia and I are working hard to get ahead on updates for TastyTrixie.com and DeliaCD.com so that our current members don't suffer while we're shooting, building and launching imakeporno.com (again, it will be part of our network so membership to one of our sites includes access to all: our current members will automatically get access to the new site if they are still active when it opens). I'm hoping to launch before Thanksgiving, but Ron is aiming for SOONER!
If you make porn these days, you really need a system for storing and backing up your photos and video files, even if you just run "amateur" sites with homemade content. We are going through growing pains ourselves, so I'm taking this opportunity to outline some storage suggestions for my fellow webwhores:
*Maintain copies of all of your raw, unedited, full-size photos IN ADDITION to duplicates that you have edited and resized (but NOT optimized/reduced in quality for the web or stamped with a domain name - those versions will be saved with your site). And have backups of all that (basically four copies of each photo).
*KEEP LOCAL COPIES OF YOUR ENTIRE WEBSITE(S), BLOGS, ETC. ON HARD DRIVE. Yes, your hosting company should have backups, but don't rely on that. Everything you upload to your blog, website, etc. should also be saved offline with you on your machine or wherever. If you create content online (using wordpress, google docs, etc.) download backups to your hard drive. Guess what this means? You now should have at least six copies of each good photo you've taken and published.
*Shoot video on tape NOT digital or cd/dvd. Keep your original tapes safe. Like, IN a firesafe. Capture them as AVI's and keep those, too (we burn ours to dvd).
*Keep your old emails and make backups of them. You are/should be a business-person and keep copies of all of your communications with customers, colleagues, service people, etc.
*Develop a backup schedule and log for recording each of your backups, what you backed up, where you put it, etc.
*Remember that anything you burn to dvd or cd will degrade with time. Don't have your only copy of data stored on this type of media. Seriously, google it. Also, remember that hard drives fail. It does no good to make a backup copy of your email, for example, and save that backup on the same exact drive as the originals.
*Rent a safe deposit box to store your backups, your will (including what you want to be done with your website(s) and content when you die), and a small flash drive or something like that with backups of your will and all the login information needed to take carry out your wishes plus software licenses, etc. You might consider making private, clandestine arrangements to have this maintained out of the country if you live in a fucked up nation such as the United States of America where the feds can bust down your door and seize everything because you are guilty of making OBSCENITY. If you want to know what that would feel like, you should watch The Notorious Bettie Page for a dramatic recreation of purging your art-porn to try to save yourself from prison. And then recognize it happens still today. The feds ARE searching and seizing, and indie webwhores ARE madly deleting and trashing their archived homemade porn because someone called Child Protective Services or the local police complaining that someone in the neighborhood is having sex AND TAKING PICTURES OF IT AND SELLING THOSE PICTURES!!
Basically you should get twice as much storage as you need to house all of your most precious data once for your safe deposit box, then switch them out; let's pretend you have 600 GB of photos you want to keep safe so ideally you'd buy TWO one terrabyte hard drives for your backups. Make your first backup and put it in your safe deposit box. In three months make another backup on your second 1TB backup drive with all your old and NEW pictures you've taken since then, take it to the bank (or send it to whoever) to replace the backup that's already there, and bring that one home to use next quarter.
*Insurance. Insurance is tricky because if you're working online from home and renting, but need to protect your BUSINESS assets (that are in a house that you rent where you're not supposed to be operating a business). . . well. Yeah. TRICKY. Anyway, insurance money could never totally compensate you for losing photos/videos/original work, so while it's good to have insurance to replace your cameras, computers, etc. if there was a fire or break-in, money can't buy back the DATA on your computer so back that shit up.
Is that expensive and time consuming all to maintain archives you will never need if all goes well? Yes, it is. But this is your business and you don't want to lose all of the work you've done, especially if you care about your work and are proud of it. If you don't have the money, do the best you can, and save up so you can afford the security of having your work backed up and kept safe.
Do I take my own advice in all of these matters? No, not yet, but I know that I should. Part of the problem is that I'm extremely reluctant to spend money on external hard drives; when you read the reviews it's hard not to notice that HALF OF THEM ARE NEGATIVE. They fail, they are poorly designed, they're loud, they overheat, THEY FAIL, etc.
This has some promise though: the Thermaltake Hard Drive Dock. Instead of buying a bunch of external drives (with their funky, clunky, fucked up designs and tendency to fail), installing a bunch of internal drives (which you don't have infinite amounts of space to house) or setting up a server, you can hot swap naked hard drives which is cheaper, saves space, saves time and is really convenient for maintaining backups especially if you are putting them in a safe or if you don't want to buy drives with lots of storage just because you feel like you NEED to since you only have so much room in your case. I haven't bought one yet, but it's a huge relief just to know it exists. There are loads of other benefits, like being able to access laptop-sized hard drives (I have one of those packed away with stuff I'd like to get at) and being able to switch out hard drives almost as casually as if they were game cartridges.
Yes, I enjoyed watching the dorky little geek porn video.
Any webwhores with further suggestions or people with special insight on this stuff, feel free to comment; I would love to read more advice from people who take porn and blog backups seriously.
From the gallery of 150 photos I posted for members yesterday:
The leopard print dress I bought at a thrift store for around $10. The nylon stockings are from StockinGirl (I can't remember exactly which style and color they are; they MAY have even come from one of their bargain grab bags). The gold pumps were also bought used from the Portland Red Light on the cheap. The gloves are just the generic cheapies you can buy at costume shops. The "string" style garter belt is from Victoria's Secret which I chose because it looks better with the orange panties from Ross (Dress For Less) than our nice thick six strap belt would:
Basically there is not one thing in this ensemble that cost more than $15. Unless you count the time it took to shop for and assemble them, which I do.
Today is show day so if you want to chat with me and watch me masturbate on cam, join my site and go to the LIVE SHOWS page for members. I've got a SexCamCentral show at 1 pm Pacific / 4 pm Eastern and another on Camz at 9 pm Pacific / midnight Eastern. Delia has her Camz show at 4 pm Pacific / 7 pm Eastern.
And no, I don't think it's great JUST because I'm profiled in such a warm, fuzzy way in it; it's great because she tells you about a lot of the behind-the-scenes unsexy stuff that get in the way of indie porn being fun. Billing stuff, legal stuff, branding stuff, asshole stuff, relationship stuff, gender stuff, multi-tasking stuff, etc.
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?
I can't say for sure whether it will really make a difference in what I post here, but I'm always curious about people's . . . desires. Feel free to leave comments to elaborate if you want.
THE FOLLOWING IS BORING & BITCHY: READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL:
Today's been one of those where every little annoying task has been much more difficult than it should have. Even posting this poll, for example, took five failed attempts, edits, logging into other sites for help, etc. before it worked. This whole post-poll part of the entry? Didn't exist until that happened and I lost it and now just need to vent.
We received our three new 500 GB hard drives because we're totally MAXED OUT on storage space, especially with our new camera and the huge pictures in two different sizes we're posting for members. Tried to install one in just one of our Dells only to discover that their funny little proprietary blue mounting bracket/bay rails aren't in two of our machines. And are apparently impossible to order. Very cute. This discovered after much googling and a long annoying chat with a very slow customer service person.
I tell you these things not because I imagine you want to hear me bitching, but just to shed light on some of the less glamorous aspects of webwhoring and to explain why sometimes I don't have time to do nice things like reply to emails or, you know, create new content or get exercise so I won't be a fucking lard ass.
I also tried to do a couple of the bootstraps method of site promotion via webmaster boards where you make posts to try to get some attention to your "program" so you can get people to sign up and promote your sites, and submitting to lists and directories. Because somehow we need to be able to pay for the new camera and hard drives and computers that I speak of and the realistic way to do that is to get more traffic to our sites so we can get more sales. I have to say that really put me in a bad mood today because it is such a joyless, inefficient, uncreative use of my time, especially when I know how much easier and more effective it would be to have money to pay for advertising. That whole "it takes money to make money" adage is so so so true, and the American Dream / pull yourself up by your bootstraps mirage is such a tired old joke. You run up against forums that require you to make 10, 25 or even 100 inane worthless posts on "would you hit it" threads and other more brutally misogynistic topics (or worse, the ones where the people actually are TRYING to be thoughtful professionals but can't bare to restrain themselves from telling me my girlfriend and I shouldn't be allowed to have children or that I'm a legal threat to them because I dare to masturbate when I menstruate) or just really BORING stuff before you can make a post with a link to your site or even a fucking picture. TIME SUCK.
Or you submit one of your sites to a directory and only AFTER adding a reciprocal link to them and studying their directory to determine what wording & subdirectory, etc. would fit in and also garner attention do you hit "submit" and get a totally nonsensical error. These are the parts of my job that I would love to have the money to never ever have to do again, either by being able to pay other people to do it for me or to avoid it completely by paying for advertising the normal and efficient way: WITH MONEY.
And these are the reasons why no matter what anybody says in the poll? My options are limited simply because my time is (simply because my MONEY is). This is not a feel sorry for me post, it's just part of a record that includes contrast against the ways people who already HAVE money can run a business and/or produce lovely things like porn, art, or other pleasures. When you don't have a rich daddy or collateral you have small, tiny, torturous steps to make that really do seem like schemes by rich people to insure you never. Do. Get ahead. At least not ahead of THEM, and certainly not without damaging yourself in the process or being a completely manic workaholic on stimulants (and even then you'd shoot holes in your computer out of frustration at having to work so slowly through all the obstacles that a moneyed person could soar over without a hitch).
I think I feel extra sensitive about this today in part because lately I've been working pretty hard (not twenty-two year old hard, but harder than I have been over the past couple of years) and been just about as focused as an ADD person can. It's hard to see where it gets me except that I'm harder to be around ("don't INTERRUPT me! Can't you see I'm concentrating?") and my eyes are crossing from looking at the computer for so many hours at a stretch.
I actually have some really nice, pleasant, heart-warming things to blog about, but this bile rose to the surface tonight instead. My apologies, but I feel better now. Again, I would put this over on my bitchy blog instead of here, but I do think it's interesting not as leisure-reading, but as documentation of how porn entrepreneurs without startup money have to operate. It's especially frustrating to me when I have something GOOD to do (example: finishing a private diary entry that I started IN APRIL for members about one of my students, began re-researching/refreshing my memory to finish last night, and have had no time to properly immerse myself in today). And instead I'm spinning my wheels doing drudge work.
Our stay in the Victorian bed & breakfast (they call it a hotel so you'll know they don't serve breakfast, but for your visualization purposes imagine more of a B&B than a hotel) was productive, but we didn't manage to completely avoid being "caught" doing our sneaky porno shooting. But first, there was an earthquake!
While I was sitting on the floor against an outside wall shooting Delia on the bed, it felt like a truck drove into the house and made us sway back and forth on the second floor a few times. It excited us but we weren't sure whether or not it was an earthquake, mostly because we'd just had a conversation the day before about how often we wake up in the middle of the night and IMAGINE there's an earthquake. It was just too much of a coincidence, having discussed our earthquake paranoia so recently. Plus, it didn't feel like most little earthquakes in Washington which are usually like rumbling underground tummies. Instead it was like a 3 second excerpt of the middle of the big earthquake we had a few years back with swinging, swaying, flexy building movement. I considered going downstairs to find out who else felt it, but we kept shooting instead. Maybe it felt unusual we because we were only three miles from the epicenter. Anyway, I know it's "nothing" compared to what Californians frequently experience, but for us it definitely is something else. Little ones are always a reminder of how vulnerable we are up here in the subduction zone to having a really devastating earthquake, or even just another like last time which was pretty fucking exciting and freaky (it made me positively GIDDY!). We also live in a town with buttloads of fresh tsunami warning signs, so we do have frequent reminders to be scared shitless of earthquakes.
The next morning when housekeeping knocked while we were sleeping I loudly dismissed her, firmly informing her "WE DON'T NEED ANYTHING". Later that afternoon while Delia was at home checking on the dog and I was out at the grocery store picking up snacks, the "innkeeper" must have decided to do some housekeeping himself; I came back to our room only to discover our door wide open and our bed made. The fellow hurried down the hall toward me and noticed the look of consternation on my face, explaining, "I was just emptying your wastebasket; I think everything is all right."
The way he said "I THINK everything is all right" sounded to me like he noticed our light stands, colorful cheap corsetry & lingerie scattered around, the way I'd moved an obnoxious framed snapshot from one dresser to another, and the conspicuously absent "checkout time is at 11 am blah blah blah" printout that had been taped up on the particularly photogenic doors. He was saying, "I needed to investigate your activities and have noticed many things are suspiciously askew, but I guess since you haven't pulled the chandelier out of the ceiling I'll let it slide."
I was pissed.
The only consolation was seeing Delia's cum-streaked black stockings on top of the bed; he'd moved them to make the bed, then put them back on top of the covers where I'd left them. If someone wants to go poking around in our stuff they deserve to encounter some unexpected bodily fluids; normally I would pick up/put away stuff like that if I'd indicated we needed maid service, but I had no reason to think someone would be inserting himself into our room and fondling our underwear.
None of this would be such a big deal if we didn't live in such a small town where word can spread like wildfire amongst the "innkeepers" or if we didn't want to have the option of returning to certain places to shoot again. I don't actually blame people for being concerned that someone's up to no good in their homes/mansions/hotels, it's just not very convenient for us. I would like to be up-front and honest about what we're doing, but it's just not an option; I only know one person who tells vacation rental owners what she's doing when she goes to shoot, and her stuff is more politically correct than what we do. Everyone else we know shoots overtly pornographic stuff, and none of them inform people what they're doing when they rent places or pop into hotels to shoot. People who genuinely aim to shoot "fine art nudes" (or at least exude the pretension of artistry) probably have an easier time of it, in part because it seems quieter and less scandalous AND because people don't assume artists are rich enough to pay extra for locations whereas everyone assumes pornographers are rich because SEX SELLS, not art. I'm not just worried about being blacklisted, I'm worried about people charging us more to shoot in their places.
Apparently there are often regulations, local ordinances, etc. and fine print stipulations in rental agreements forbidding doing commercial shooting without permits and/or permission; I think most of it is written with film in mind, but it's something few people realize, but could become more and more (or less, maybe) of a visible legal issue with so many people making photo and video content that then appears online. I don't know all of the ins and outs about it and would like to think when the "innkeeper" invited us to wander around and take pictures, his words could be taken at face value, but honestly I would prefer not to broach the issue at all. I'm sure everything's fine, but it does worry me a little. On the other hand, I feel very much that HE did something wrong by going into our room after I'd said, rather clearly I thought, we didn't want any housekeeping. I feel that if someone discovers we're moving furniture around or doing slightly kinky things with cameras BECAUSE THEY INTRUDED ON US (and fail to have "do not disturb" signs the way most places called "hotels" do) rather than because we broke something or made a bunch of noise, then they are more in the wrong.
I know some of you are reading this thinking I'm being totally paranoid, but I'm going to bet you either a) live in a city, and/or b) are more resourceful than I and/or have more resources at your disposal so you aren't worried about finding alternatives, and/or c) your job is not the same as mine.
In spite of the intrusion (and maybe because of the earthquake) we had a grand time. We weren't at all tempted to run away home to sleep this time. I *loved* our two nights in a strange bed, even with the walls being paper thin (this should be a hint to you that we didn't shoot any noisy couples action, or even any quiet couples action). It was all very softcore except for a couple of Delia's cumshots, and if I were the innkeeper I'd be happy to have us as patrons because the other guests? They were way louder than we were!
We're leaving in an hour or two to spend a couple of nights at a local bed and breakfast so we can do some shooting in a pretty(ier than our house) location. I'm super excited because the walls are PURPLE! Over the past five years of hunting for locations to shoot pretty, sexy photos the lack of color in people's lives has dismayed me. Why would you own a house and keep the walls white? Why would you try to rent rooms to people and think it will be any sort of a vacation for them with the same uninspired absence of color? I don't get it, seriously, except that it's cheaper/easier to maintain white walls.
Anyway, we're really looking forward to it; it's been many months since we tried to shoot anything semi-fancy with nylons and stuff. Delia's been saving a really slinky, beautiful ensemble one of her members sent her waiting for a nice setting to do it justice.
As usual I'm a little nervous about lugging all of our suitcases and light bags into the place. I hate stirring up suspicion amongst the locals; it's already weird enough to them when people IN TOWN want to rent rooms, but probably looks even more sketchy when we bring many giant pieces of luggage for a one or two night stay.
We'll be in and out of home to take care of the dog, download pics, fetch things we've forgotten, etc. In fact, the explanation I give the nosy people is that we are "getting away while staying close enough to home to check up on our pet." One of the suck things is that we've grown to not even want to actually spend the night at these places; we just want to come home and get into OUR bed after we've done our shooting, but not staying the night would *definitely* set off alarms with these people so we'll be imprisoned in boutiquey Victoriana until we're back home full time on Friday. Maybe next time I'll say that we've got construction going on at our house during the day that we want to get away from. It could happen, right?
Here's an email I got the other day from someone trying to decide whether or not to join my site:
Hey, sexy, I am thinking about joining your site. How many nice videos do you have in there? Do you do any fart video?
Out of all the emails I get that deserve responses, choosing to spend time replying to this one PROBABLY wasn't wise or fair, but I did write back to say this:
Hi there! I don't have any fart videos (well actually I have one, but it's such a small and insignificant fart, it barely warrants mentioning). What I do have are spycams upon which patient voyeurs with audio enabled can sometimes hear me farting or even see me lifting my cheek to do so. No guarantees of when or how often or that you would catch it, though.
I don't know how many videos I have at this point, and I'm not sure how many you would consider to be "nice" since that is a highly subjective term. Most people who join my site are into the whole "package" that I offer, both as a strange and wonderful human being AND as a porn site proprietress, and statistics barely enter into their decision of whether or not to join.
Good luck in making yours!
It's not that I think his questions aren't legit, I'm just reluctant to hand out quantified guarantees of satisfaction to people who are reluctant to join without them since I doubt they will be happy with my site (especially in this case when I don't have content to make a die-hard fart fetishist happy, even though I probably have MORE to offer him than other non-fart-focused porn sites).
Mostly I answer emails like this one because it's so freeing to be flip, especially when the person expects me to do everything I can to convince him to buy and I'm just not going to. It's so much easier to communicate with people I *know* I can't make happy than it is to write back to the people who really want to hear from me and whose opinions I genuinely care about. I feel guilty for it, but there it is.
I have a lot (even more than usual) of maintenance, (re)design, and promo work to do on a lot of our sites so that's where I'm focusing most of my computer time. We have an appointment with Delia's therapist on Tuesday to talk about coming out to her family about her transition so that will probably be our day off for the week since we have to traverse a few counties to get there/won't be home most of the day.
Next week we've rented a room to shoot fancier photo sets with hosiery, etc. than we've been doing lately. I'm excited because the walls are PURPLE! You have no idea how much of my webwhore happiness depends on shooting in colorful locations. In the first two weeks of August we'll need to focus on shooting a lot, too, so we won't be posting galleries shot in the same exact place for two months straight.
I have a couple of really exciting things to blog about but just wanted to post something quickly today to stay in touch and let you know where we're focusing. Twitter's been down a lot so I haven't been able to do it there reliably (and am worried Twitter's downtime is effecting the way our members see our members-only area since it won't load the rest of the page until it tries to load our tweets). I should redesign that, too, so twitter is the last thing to load, but it would so fuck up the balance. Sigh . . . I wish the twitter fuckers would monetize it already so they could afford to make it WORK.
Just in case you didn't believe that my weight gain is a real thing with an impact on my health, here's a photo of my face last month telling the tale:
I do not even look like myself in that picture. I actually think I look cute in it, but like someone else. Oh yeah, I *recognize* that it *is* me, but she's like an alter ego of some sort, like I was transformed overnight (which of course is ridiculous since it's taken me awhile to get there) or am experiencing a Freaky Friday scenario where I'm magically switching places with my chubby twin sister.
That is the biggest and SOFTEST I've been in my entire life and the second time I've weighed that much (around 130, 132 pounds). I am back to 125 and those five pounds make an enormous difference in the number of chins I have (and if I lost only ten pounds now I'd be at a very good place). At the time of that photo my period was severely overdue, not because of pregnancy but because I didn't ovulate which I'm certain is because of how overweight I was. I know 130 pounds doesn't sound enormous considering how much fatter people are capable of getting, but for my frame that is just really WAY too much. With my hormones totally out of wack and the stress and pressure of our plans to get pregnant being delayed and feeling out of control, all I wanted to do was eat. Carbs. Lots of them. It's a vicious circle.
Once my period finally started last month I stopped having my usual two teaspoons of sugar in my morning tea, stopped eating candy (except some dark chocolate here and there), and have been exercising more. I feel better, but still have a major energy dive in the afternoon/early evening and have been napping almost every day; it's only 30-60 minutes, but I feel enormously guilty about it for some reason. I don't know if I'm just stressed out, tired from exercising, fat and lazy, or have some internal voice ordering me to focus on a very few things. It is (and has been for the past nine months or so) very difficult for me to focus on anything besides our conception attempts. It sounds stupid, since if I were really focusing I should have been exercising more and eating better, but my main priority has been to try not to stress out my mind or body. All I have wanted to do was try to be patient, calm, and relaxed and honestly? Accomplishing that takes all of my energy, I think. And lots of food and lazing around.
It should come as no surprise that I have not felt great about shooting photos and videos of myself. Part of it is self-consciousness about my weight, but another part might also be me feeling a need to keep some of me to myself. Trying and failing to get pregnant over and over makes me feel like there's a demand being placed on my body that I keep failing to meet in spite of the many different adjustments and approaches and changes we make to get it done. I already feel like I'm asking enough of my body, forcing it to get fucked on a schedule, to tell me what it's thinking, to subject it to tests, to tell it to work harder and be "healthy". Other than that, I really just want to put it in a cocoon of blankets and comfortable clothes and to try to let my mind escape. I want to protect myself, my mind AND body, from more opportunities for failure.
There are a few other factors contributing to my state of mind, including missing my girly birth control hormones, my ADD and hypersensitivity to stimuli (I am fucking exhausted from processing so much information and trying to tune things out; I have not been able to concentrate at all on blogging or anything), stress/guilt over an argument I had with my mom in March, MISSING my nephew and longing to live closer to my family, and the way all these things work together to make me feel, I suppose, a little depressed. I'm not particularly worried about it in the short term, but if I allow myself to fret about how long this trying-to-conceive business could go on I do get anxious and concerned about, ummm, my mental and emotional health.
I guess my main priorities right now are making my body healthier and focusing on transcending daily worries to get to a place where it's all good, whether it's in a nap, brushing the dog, dancing, reading a book, writing for myself, daydreaming about things that make me happy, visualizing the positive possibilities, drowning myself in mindless entertainment, researching stuff I want to know for future and current projects, listening to cheesy new age music, smelling good things and enjoying sensual (but nonsexual) pleasures like massage, or processing these thoughts and reflecting on my needs the way I am right now by writing this. I feel better having done it.
But I still don't feel like shooting porn. Not today, anyway. And of course this makes me feel slack and guilty which only deepens my mini-depression. I would like to be more productive and intellectually have a hard time allowing myself a break; part of me says if I were a better person I would just WORK HARDER. Still, I know that once we do get pregnant, if we do, there will be a whole new set of demands on my body so maybe it's okay for me to just SURVIVE right now.
NOTE TO MEMBERS: I'm not saying that I'm ceasing shooting, just that updates are coming a little slower than I'd like and don't have as much tastiness as usual. I'm sure we will shoot soon, especially since I'm no longer quite as pudgy as in the above photo. Oh, and another uninspiring factor in all of this is that we really need a better camera; I bought this one in 2002 and it's really not up to par anymore and has some problems. Not so fun to shoot with and the results are less than stellar.
I found this video while researching fat belly fetish movies to get ideas for a small plumper site I want to make with my chubby pictures:
Like the last video I posted, I know it's just supposed to be "funny" but I actually adore it (and think the sprinkler and body slam shots were *hot*); you can always count on me to love videos of people dancing and grooving without trying to look cool. I mean, I also love watching people dance better, but even more I love seeing regular people expressing themselves and making their whole bodies giggle and shriek.
I always intended to make a chubby Trixie site, but I have lots of ideas that I don't have time for so I've never done anything with it (even though I have a couple of domains that are perfect for it: JellyRollJane.com and RubenX.com. Right now my belly is probably bigger than it's ever been, though, so I have a few more photos than usual I've been reluctant to post on my regular site AND I'm constantly trying to hide how big it is during shoots; that's SILLY since it would be so easy for us to take about 25 more pictures each shoot that EMPHASIZE my belly fat and would be marketable to a unique audience.
I do feel guilty and self-conscious about even admitting I want to segregate my roly-poly belly pictures from my other photos (the ones where I don't make a point of showing how big my pot belly is); I know that a lot of people like the belly fat and I know that I'm always talking the big talk about sharing myself in all of my natural glory (hence the almost-in-your-face menstruation stuff, etc.) BUT I'm definitely reluctant to highlight rolls of belly fat, cellulite and double chins in the members-only area of TastyTrixie.com. It's still all *there*; I'm not actually hiding it from members (and I do have some fairly in-your-face chub pics and galleries), I'm just not sure about taking it to the next level of really fetishizing those parts of myself and the truth is that I kind of want to.
I remember the first time we shot photos meant to augment the sight of my belly fat; it was SO AWESOME, the feeling of letting go and letting it all hang out instead of sucking it in and drawing attention to anything BUT my belly. Because I am quite chubby looking right now, I could really stand to have some fun with it instead of worrying about people who join my site not anticipating they're getting a chubby chick. And people? Don't even try to reassure me about this one; I'm just being realistic; YES I know there are lots of people who will adore me no matter what. Unfortunately I am neither in-shape NOR fat enough to turn-on chubby chasers to the extent of making a real living off of it. I am average; the best I can hope for with my site when it comes to my body is to attract members who are aroused by an average body type; I'm pretty sure most of those guys can tolerate and/or are aroused by a little extra padding but a REALLY bulging belly with an obvious overhang and many rolls of fat? I think that would alienate and turn-off a lot of my audience; Lord only knows I already do enough to alienate and turn-off my fans so adding the really big taboo of fat on top of that is probably not a wise business decision. Again, it's not that I don't show off fatness on my site (you know I love showing off the backphat, especially) but I'm concerned that if I take it much farther (belly-jiggling videos, videos of me overeating/talking about how much I love to eat/describing how I'm getting bigger, hiding toys & dildos in my folds, pooching out my belly as far as it will go, etc.) that people will be . . . confused.
I started compiling more fat-focused photo galleries today and it felt SO GOOD to look FOR really chubby pics instead of hoping not to come across them. Looking at pictures of my belly hanging over my waistband suddenly became a joy instead of a nuisance simply because I started looking at them from the perspective of people who specifically SEEK OUT that look for masturbation fodder.
While I do have some reservations about catering to fat fetishists, if I just make a small collection available OFF my main site then it won't require a lot of time or long-term commitment (and I won't have to pay for the fall-out of alienating the average-body fans). Part of me just really wants to give expression to the growing magnificence of this part of my body along with some of my food fantasies. I have a lot of specialty interests (gloves, bubblegum, stockings, feet, taboo roleplays, and numerous underground fetishes) but my chub is something I feel especially suited to explore right at this moment in time.
It will be a good experiment, anyway, and for those of you who *do* want to see it and are already members? I will figure out how to share it with by request and/or some of it will show up on TastyTrixie anyway in spite of my reservations and/or could be combined with FertileTrixie; the pregnancy fetish is complex enough that it also encompasses people who like seeing women growing/inflating and might crossover enough with the fat belly stuff I'm doing that it will all meld together in a delicious vat of plump 'n pregnant stew.
Shit -- I hope I'm not talking this up too much and getting people's hopes up; I'm not talking about investing a whole lot of time in making special content like this so DON'T GET TOO EXCITED all ye fans of fat! I'm just looking forward to shooting some stuff that doesn't require me to try to be attractive from head to toe and allows me to express another part of my personality. Fetish stuff can be such a relief to shoot because people don't spend as much time looking at "the whole package"; you are beautiful to them just for having the right color of nail polish or a strong prescription for glasses . . . or an abundance of skin folds and wobbly flesh around your midsection.
On top of all of that, I have always wanted to see more porn featuring women who are truly average/just a little bit overweight and in porn? That's kind of hard to find since the industry focuses on extremes.
I know there are some twisted thoughts in this post and some unclear/contradictory thinking so yeah; I know my feelings, values and thoughts are muddled and maybe fucked up. If anyone wants to leave comments, I'm most interested in looking at this from a business point of view and hearing from people who consider themselves BBWs AND from fans on whether or not belly fat turns YOU on -- I don't want to hear polite reassurances (though I thank you for your kindness), only the truth if it turns you OFF or if it's really something you dig.
Yesterday during one of my chat & masturbation webcam shows, a viewer asked me if I prefer a large or a small audience. I tried to be diplomatic about it, partly because I myself am uncomfortable with the true answer, so I said that there are pros and cons of each (which *is* true, but is not the answer).
The truth is that I prefer big audiences over small ones for group camshows. I either want to do a private show for just ONE person who pays me by the minute OR I want to do a group show for as many people as possible. Even though smaller crowds are almost always more polite, there is still a bigger thrill associated with having lots and lots and lots of people watching me at once.
I know this answer probably sounds contradictory given some of the complaints I have made about doing shows for big groups along with the enjoyment I've told you I experience doing shows for smaller crowds; I'm not invalidating anything I've said before -- those complaints and acknowledgments still stand. But I've *also* told you how I love the feeling of immortality provided by having my life/living enlarged by being watched:
Through my porn sites I have attained a degree of immortality. It sounds crazy, but it's true and it fascinates me. So much of the work I do amplifies and extends my living; I do feel like I'm more alive because so many people KNOW that I'm living, WATCH me living, READ me living, etc. It's heady, powerful stuff that overfeeds my most basic, primitive survival instincts. Maybe my own instincts have gone off the rails or I'm unwittingly describing the hallmarks of some kind of pathology, but whatever. Some people cheat death through extreme sports to feel more alive, some people have kids, some people perform acts of heroism . . . but I feel more alive simply because a few bloggy book people (along with thousands of men who've become erect and spilled seed over my web-graven images) know who I am.
I know it sounds more like cancer of the ego than immortality, but regardless of whether its source is mental illness or the actual attainment of mythological proportions, I *feel* superhuman because of all the people watching me going about life in my bubble.
This feeling isn't something I experience on a conscious level, it's primal (which is funny since it happens because of technology). I'm pretty sure it's the same feeling that drove Evil Men throughout History to invade and conquer neighboring and distant nations and peoples: to have legions of men lined up and standing erect before you, assimilated and saluting you, compelled to stand mutely before you and powerless to leave unless you expel them. It is heady stuff, and you feel it most when you have either *one* person ensnared OR impressively large numbers of them.
This morning when we fucked we were being watched by people on three different spycam networks. I like that. I cannot tell exactly how many people were watching and I wasn't interacting with any of those people, but I *did* like logging into one of those networks afterwards to find that 84 people were still watching there even after we had been done for ten minutes. I liked seeing that we had more viewers than any other houses. The numbers are small compared to the glory days back when I started exhibiting spycams, but still . . . fucking is even better somehow when there is a number attached to it of anonymous people who witnessed it. The bigger the number, the better it is (as long as those people had to pay an entrance fee of some sort to see it, otherwise it loses its charm).
The same is true of the group shows that do have interaction; I confess it excites me more to see 500-1500 people watching than it does 50. It's nothing personal; on the contrary -- it's something very IMpersonal. There's safety in numbers, even though there are always more assholes in big audiences and they have said some terrifyingly offensive shit to me; I feel less of an obligation to each individual person because I think of them more as a *mass* of people. I don't feel as awkward or self-conscious because there's a lot of static washing over me in the chatroom. There are also more people to play off of and time passes quickly; even though I find much of what is said is repetitive and obnoxious, it's just more entertaining than having a few people being really nice to me. And? There's a massive thrill in NOT doing what A LOT of people WANT me to do. Most of those people come to shows not to chat or to see a striptease, but for immediate graphic sexual stimulation. I spend about 40 minutes chatting and not being sexually graphic. And then when I am masturbating? It's, ummm, actually pretty boring to watch, I think. I do it virtually the same way in the same position every show without variation except in toys and occasionally asshole versus pussy. I'm not saying my shows are BAD -- I think they're relaxing, funny, genuine, and sexy -- but there are other women putting on much more wank-worthy shows: the kinds most people are *expecting* to see. When I don't give them that and it angers them, I feel flooded with power. I love telling them that if they want to tell me how to masturbate they'll have to get a private show where they pay me by the minute. If they are good guys, they'll ask how they can make that happen (and then I thrill at the opportunity to deny them, since I rarely ever do private shows anymore). THE MORE PEOPLE I DENY (or whose expectations I defy), THE MORE I'M THRILLED.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't love it when people love my shows and express their appreciation or that I don't love civilized conversation -- I *do*, it's just that there is a special thrill that comes with making hundreds of men horny and mad and unable to make me do what they want; I think this might be the only almost-safe platform for deliberately sexually provoking men/"leading them on" where saying no won't lead to a physical assault or gang rape, and it is BECAUSE I know that what some of those guys are feeling and saying is precisely what many men (maybe even some of the same ones) have said and felt that led them to hurt women in real life that I feel thrilled; maybe a part of me feels that I'm standing at a unique point in history on a unique technological platform that allows me to magically elude the violent attacks I would suffer were I to say the things I say (and do the things I do) in any other place and time; it's probably the closest I can come to defying death. Oh, and of course there's also a thrill that comes with hearing a lot of guys tell me they've jerked themselves into a creamy frenzy during my shows. It's the idea of hundreds (preferably thousands) of CRAZED MEN going apeshit bonkers that gets me so psychologically worked up.
Oh, I know those of you who attend my shows are remembering all the times I've dismissed the question I'm asked every show of, "how does it make you feel that 457 (or however many people are present in the chatroom) men are jerking off to you?" but the only reason I act disinterested is because it's technically inaccurate since I know that not *everyone* watching is male and not everyone is watching the show with one hand on their genitals. My problem with the question is mostly the way that it's worded along with the hope they have that I'll say something about how WET it makes me; it's not that I do not get aroused by these thoughts, however I don't have time or enough stimulation during my shows (especially at the beginning of them, which is usually when someone asks that question) to really fantasize about that. No, the natural excitement I feel regarding those numbers is POWER.
The times I've gotten aroused by viewers in group shows have been when guys say something kinky about themselves like the unusual way they're masturbating (Oh Trixie, I'm just about to cum in my roommate's shoe watching you!) or confessing something like my best friend Brad and I have been jack-off buddies since we were 12; I'm imagining he's here now & we're watching you together, beating off! or just a number of simple status report like Oh, Trixie! I had to stop stroking my pole and pinch it because I almost came at the sight of your hairy butthole! or even just good old, Unnhhhhhhhjuscameonmykeyboard!. Unfortunately I get way too few of these kinds of remarks during my shows to really rely on viewer input for arousal and the other stuff I *do* hear regularly is often funny, but rarely a turn-on: Do you want my cum? Tell me you want my cum!! Doesn't work from a random stranger in a crowded room; in a private show or phone sex? That has potential. Will you marry me? I'll get you pregnant! The ultimate turn-off. Shuttup Bitch! I didn't come here to listen to you talk philosophy! While I enjoy this for the element of power, it doesn't arouse me sexually. I know this sounds sick, but it's an incredible feeling, knowing there are men SEETHING with hatred and contempt for me but they CAN'T make me shut up. Part of me enjoys hearing all of the predictable ugly insults (fat, ugly, old, stupid, etc.), because I know it is a very VERY special thing to sit here and be safe even when faced with confirmation that women are still loathed and victimized in very scary, gender-specific ways.
If asked what size audience DOES sexually arouse me most, I'd refer you back to private shows: ONE viewer arouses me most, one that I'm interacting with who is paying me by the minute to talk to me, tell me what to do and/or to expose himself to me. Private shows and phone sex are extremely sexually exciting to me (because they're hot, not because I feel like I'm flirting with danger). You want to know a big reason why I don't do them much anymore? Because they aren't as private as they used to be when I started camming and doing phone sex. It used to be just me and one other person: the viewer. Now my circumstances and the camsites have changed so much that I have way too many audiences to really get off on it the way I used to; there are people watching me on our spycams, the cam networks have sneak peeks running and archives being captured, I feel self-conscious with Delia in the house, etc. It's too much exposure for something that used to be hot because it was SO private. That's actually a subject for another blog entry I've been meaning to write for a long time, but I bring it up to illustrate how many different factors there are and yardsticks for measuring what kinds of shows I like doing best and how many people I like watching them (which is why the diplomatic answer IS TRUE; there are pluses and minuses to all of the different kinds of camming I do).
A few people who've had phone sex with me or chatted with me extensively are probably aware how much the numbers mean to me on many different levels; it *is* a big turn on to contemplate the numbers and the gallons, the spurts and the jerks of a large population. But the most instant reaction I have to the numbers DURING my shows is a surge of omnipotence more than arousal. The more people watching, the more power I have (and the more I feel I'm cheating death, I suppose).
Here's one of my favorite pictures that we shot over the past two days:
We rented a room in town for a couple of nights to shoot in, but wound up coming home to sleep both nights. We like being in our own bed at home with our dog, plus we are addicted to stupid shows like American Idol and America's Next Top Model. I feel a little anxious about getting rooms in town for shoots because people are naturally curious why we would get a room when we LIVE here. It makes me even more nervous when we aren't actually there all night; I'm afraid we'll arouse suspicion and wind up on some kind of small-town blacklist. Not that we're doing anything BAD by hauling lights into their rooms and taking nudey pics of each other, but you never know what people will think (they *have* to wonder why we have so many giant pieces of luggage; it probably looks like we're going to cut up a body or something).
This morning we actually had to set the alarm in order to wake up early enough to have sex, since I may have ovulated last night and we still had to go pick up our luggage from the hotel this morning and take the dog to the vet. I actually got to stay in bed and stew in the sex juice while Delia took care of all of that. Now? I'm editing a gallery of pictures (represented by the above picture) for members and listening to PJ Harvey.
I have a feeling I'm going to regret posting these little video rants with my thoughts and reactions to the whole "Letters from Working Girls" debate. And you may very well regret listening to them; honestly, they probably won't make sense to you unless you read the back story here:
Can I just apologize in advance for being a sputtering asshole? Oh, and I realize by posting this I'm probably just driving my own little slice of traffic to her; in spite of how my blustering sounds, that's more than fine with me. Also, I am NOT speaking for anybody or on the behalf of anybody but myself.
Oh, you know how I said I couldn't find a picture of Susannah Breslin? I *did* find a video of her:
She reminds me of Selma Blair (hot!) which makes me even MORE interested in finding out exactly what type of sex work I can hire her to perform. Watching her talk about a book of short stories she wrote and hearing her blur the line between truth and fiction to the point where I can't tell if the book is, indeed, short (fictional) STORIES she wrote about "aberrants" like "midget porn stars" OR nonfictional essays about real people. Does anyone know? The promo piece reinforces my sense of her as someone who's less interested in being true to people's real stories in the sex industry and more interested in harnessing our curiosity about them to market entertaining tales of our perceived deviance for her own gain. Again, I don't so much mind someone exploiting a resource (I'm not someone who thinks there's no room in the world for pimps) as I mind someone bullshitting everyone about that being their primary objective.
And hey, I don't want to make it sound like my own hands are clean; I've used a lot of the same tactics (or would if I could unclutter my mind long enough to APPLY the techniques of efficient exploitation), just not very well. So go on, everybody! GET that publicity! GET that traffic!! USE WHAT YOU'RE GIVEN!!! Wankers send you material? THAT IS BLOG FODDER! Someone wants to give you content without getting anything in return except the pleasure of putting it before an audience? TAKE it and USE it! Let Susannah Breslin be your guide!
Oh, and I wouldn't argue with her about Susie Bright being a sex worker. The quickest reason I can give (which still probably doesn't make sense)? She has confessed to her own personal fantasies that are so taboo as to be considered obscene by our government just to talk about them. Maybe Breslin has, too, though and I'm just not familiar enough with her (sex?) work to know.
Note: with the amount of time and energy I've wasted on this compared to the MAJOR stuff I ignore in my blog, you might think engaging in this little brouhaha is somehow more important to me than other things; it's not. It's just one of the few "discussions" I've been involved in lately and enjoyed, probably because it was mostly smart women doing the discussing (and yeah, Breslin is one of those women, too).
We're back home from our Portland trip and 500 photos richer. Well, 498. And of course we'll delete many of those, too. Not very productive in terms of shooting, but what we DID shoot was great. Besides, we were really there for Delia's doctor appointment and also spent a nice evening visiting with our friends, Torn and Toni of KatVixen.com. I realize you all read me telling you how much I like to avoid people and socializing and all of that jazz, so you probably never conceive of how much I actually *do* like people and talking with them, and how hard it is for me to call it a night once conversation is rolling. I think I deprive myself so much of social stimulation that I become parched for it, which creates a vicious circle because I pretty much know I'll want to overdo it when we meet up with people and then need a week of hermit mode to recover my wits There is often a part of me that *almost* whines to friends, "I wish you/we didn't have to go" at the overdue end of a visit. A lot of my issues with socializing/needing a lot of alone time are less to do with preference and more to do with the way my brain is wired and that I just wind up blowing fuses trying to process the extra stimuli.
So. A small (or literally a large) reason why we didn't shoot more photos is that I didn't recognize in time how overweight I am and that an outfit I packed, THE outfit, the one I was all sexed up to wear and use in a teacher role play, could barely be buttoned/couldn't be zipped. I love it way too much to wear it incorrectly so it put me in a bit of a foul temper. It was slightly more depressing than our Halloween shoot debacle where I actually SPLIT THE SEAMS of the pirate dress I ordered. That was sort of funny and I wish we'd have gotten the splitting on tape. Oh well.
My conflicting feelings/thoughts regarding my level of physical fitness: *I think I look and feel fine -- nay, almost exactly how I've always WANTED to look -- for a normal thirty-four year old *but not a thirty-four year old who sells images of her body and needs to be versatile. *I don't fucking WANT to eat less or exercise more. I just don't WANT to! Okay, I do want to but there are about 567 things on my list of things I WANT TO DO ****WAY MORE**** than exercise. I'd rather be fucking blogging, right? I'd rather be masturbating I'd rather be eating donuts while Delia gets ready for me to take pictures of HER. I would just rather be sitting on my goddamned ass using my motherfucking BRAIN, okay? *but okay, I *do* want to look good in that outfit, darlings. I *do*. It's just too perfect. There are SO MANY perfect little outfits. I pretend not to care, but oh, I *do* care, because I want to look so cute and fit in polka dot blouses and dresses with darts.
None of this matters in any real way and it sickens me to even think about it for a moment, let alone go ON and ON about it, torturing myself and others with this fucking weight loss drivel. What a senseless waste of time. But. I think some of my dramatic feelings right now about my body are connected to bigger things than my bigger body. Like admiring some of the work my more cerebral cohorts do and feeling resentful that I don't have time to do more of what they're doing. That I'm bogged down by my visually body-oriented work that begs me to tend to it in such time-consuming ways. That my body right now is my most valuable natural resource and I'm trashing it (I would say that Delia's body is my most valuable resource, but that would open up a whole other can of worms about possession and pimping and shit). That I want my work to focus more on *other* people's bodies and less on my own. That I want it to fucking WORK PROPERLY but suspect I'm rounding the bend where I can't take it for granted at all and it wants me to know that. I'm full of suspicious lumps, I can't seem to get pregnant, and I'm having a hard time disguising my comical bulges.
I don't like to complain about it or sound pessimistic. It's important to me to say that I don't FEEL as bad as I sound. But I *do* need to process these feelings. And remind myself that the reason I do the work I do is because a) I like it/feel driven to, and b) it is part of a plan that *does* allow me to do *all* of the kinds of work I want to do. Some of it right now/all of the time, and more of it eventually. And all of it really whenever I want if at any time I want to drop any of it that I'm sick of. And that's the big reminder, that I can do whatever I want. I don't WANT to stop doing anything I do right now OR I WOULD. I just really crave to do MORE of the millions of things I want to do. Making choices pains me because sometimes choosing to do one thing means choosing NOT to do other things I really really DO want to do (refer to above: socializing).
Sorry if that is all incoherent and vague. It makes sense to me, though. FYI: comments reassuring me about my weight or arguing about it will not be published; it's not the real issue here: the real issue is what I want to concentrate on more than my body. Love to chat about it more, but again, this is more of a reflective post for myself than an informative or conversational post for others; once I post this I want to be dumped of it and move on.
I don't know if I can describe how satisfying it is to look at these photos we've shot, the ones that are beautiful. Since it's difficult to describe without being redundant or obnoxious, you wind up reading more angst about dumb things like body image than daily thanksgiving about important things like how splendid I feel about what we make. I feel wrong even taking that much credit for just being lucky enough to have a camera, a moderately good eye and an appreciation for the beauty of certain things that never get old no matter how many times you duplicate them: black nylons against a blonde wood floor. Red patent leather. My girlfriend's ass. Her willingness to get on the floor for me. The way the pictures I capture can keep getting better regardless of how fat I eventually may get or whether or not I can bear children or whether or not I ever lose a breast to cancer. I will still always know and deeply appreciate a billion and one things that are beautiful and exquisite and erotic and are not too hard for me to point out and celebrate. That I WANT to point out and celebrate.
During my shows today I got the usual questions I get when I'm wearing a tampon and haven't bothered to cut the string. Namely, "what she got hangin out of her pussy?" I feel it's my moral obligation to continue flaunting my string time if only to educate these sheltered ignoramuses.
After my last orgasm I returned my focus to the chatroom only to read a new question, one I'd never fielded before:
"Why is your pussy so flat?"
Ummmmmm . . . flat? Well, here is what he was looking at:
I had to ask him what he meant. FLAT? He couldn't bring himself to elaborate. And maybe it does look relatively flat, especially without any hair on it (a recent change). Regardless, I couldn't tell you WHY mine is that way. It just IS. I was born with a (now) stylishly cute vulva that could almost be mistaken for fake if not for the vulgar coloring, pimples, and hair (when I have it, which is almost always). And as I've gotten older it's gotten more of a pinched pie dough look, but it still has its flat days, I guess. I should start marketing myself that way. STEP RIGHT UP AND SEE TRIXIE'S FLAT PUSSY! Actually, my pussy is not as flat as it looks, though. It's just the quality of the webcam show action and lighting that fucks up the dimensions.
Speaking of the hair removal, I still got a handful of "compliments" on my supposedly still-hairy pussy, even though the actual vulva is now shaved. Seriously? That pussy looks hairy? Color me confused. That is like confusing a mustache with a beard. No, it's like confusing SIDEBURNS with a beard.
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).
Though the storms interfered with my ability to do shows today, we re-channeled that energy into doing a photo/video shoot involving me in sheer panties sitting astride Delia and giving her (and the camera) a good rear view:
We shot this in our bedroom (nothing fancy) so I decided to turn off the audio on the one bedroom spycam that has it (actually, I didn't realize it wasn't even logged in at the time, but the two without audio were still up so that's good). Some camgirls like to let voyeurs spy on their shoots, but I often have reservations about it. For one thing, I sometimes worry it will spoil the "surprise" of the content when I post it. For another, I think it interferes with the fantasy; when you see all of the awkwardness that goes into a photo/video shoot and/or hear all of the technical components of it I think it's a mood-killer. There are a lot of interruptions to pause for the camera's focus, to adjust the angles, to check on the progress to see if it looks halfway like what you want it to look like, to make bossy demands of each other, etc. And that's just for a very amateur mid-quality shoot.
I know it sounds funny to hear me worrying about destroying "the fantasy" of porn since I make a habit of purposely doing exactly that on our sites by burping, farting, and explicitly reminding people of the boundaries between reality and fantasy (and demonstrating that most of the stuff on our spycams is ugly and/or boring and/or hilarious reality). On the other hand, when we shoot video -- ESPECIALLY video I know will be jerk-worthy -- I want people to be able to enjoy its hotness without thinking about how we argued over the lighting or how I had to stop for a minute and howl because I got a cramp in my leg or how we struggled for five minutes to engineer our body positions so that the camcorder would have a good view. I do think that stuff is interesting so I don't always censor these things, but sometimes I just want people to be able to focus on the end result and don't want to hotness of the product to be compromised by memories of the shoot itself.
In order for the sex video to feel as real and genuine as possible, you sometimes need to censor out the artifice of how it came to be recorded. Sex on tape by definition can never be a completely natural depiction of the real thing; instead you have to decide which very-real, very-hot elements of reality you want to capture and go through a process that eliminates as much of the artificial distractions as possible. We do have funny behind the scenes stuff and a lot of honest portrayals of our work and our selves that expose the artifice instead of pretending it doesn't exist, but sometimes I just want to wind up with something pure. Something that focuses on things I think are really fucking hot: my ass, sheer panties, cock in my pussy and cum on my butt.
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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.
Violence against sex workers boils down to two things: a woman who demands money for sex is a woman who is saying NO to sex without money. For all of our fancy talk and progress, our society STILL does not wholly support women's right to say NO. Our problem is not just with women charging money for sex, our problem is with women SAYING NO to sex with men unless the men meet conditions set by women.
We still do not wholeheartedly agree that women own their own bodies. We still do not wholeheartedly agree that women should have the right to determine the circumstances under which we choose to allow people access to our bodies. We still think that one woman's individual sexuality is responsible for wreaking havoc on men's behavior, on other women's happiness, and on children everywhere. We still blame individual women's sexual agency for bringing about the downfall of all that's good for the Christians' cause, for the feminists' cause and for unraveling the the moral fabric of society. We still believe women shouldn't be allowed to capitalize on natural resources the way that men do -- we fear the complete disintegration of order in our society if women are allowed to openly capitalize on and dominate the biggest demand in the marketplace.
Violence against sex workers is all about refusing women the right to NOT consent to sex; this refusal is RAPE. We're all (as a society) accessories to rape by not supporting sex worker rights.
Violence against sex workers is violence against women. Violence against sex workers is often an act of angry insistence that women are of no value except what men, their brainwashed handmaidens, certain hysterically irrational feminists, and society place on them or allow them to be, and that a woman who values her body enough to deny someone access to it unless they provide her with money or material compensation is a woman who has stepped so far out of line that she deserves to be punished or committed to the care of Concerned Women who insist no woman in her right and undamaged mind could have chosen sex work willingly.
Gary Ridgeway, The Green River Killer, did not just target prostitutes because he knew crimes against people who work the streets are harder to solve; that makes it sound like he would have been happy killing just about ANYbody when that's not the whole truth. He didn't want to and never did kill homeless veterans or women who consented to having sex with him for free. Gary Ridgeway said, "I picked prostitutes as my victims because I hate most prostitutes and I did not want to pay them for sex." That hatred of sex workers and the belief that charging money for sex is loathsome, unjustifiable, immoral, indecent, "devalues" women (the most absurd charge of all), and/or somehow dirties or corrupts a society that would otherwise be asexual outside of the bonds of married love or male ownership permeates our culture and is not unique to serial killers. Gary Ridgeway was able to talk openly with his neighbors about his desire to exterminate prostitutes without them batting a fucking eyelash; chances are you yourself have tolerated similar hate speech without objection when you would certainly have responded differently had the target of the hatred been twelve year old Catholic schoolgirls or boy scouts or soccer moms.
When people say that women's bodies and sex are SO VALUABLE and precious that it's taboo to put a real dollar amount on sex acts, they are talking irrational, brainwashed rubbish, pure and simple. Violence against sex workers is not so much about women charging money for sex as it is about women having the right to WITHHOLD sex and to define the terms under which they will CONSENT to sex. Any of us who deny sex workers the right to set the terms of consent is effectively denying ALL WOMEN their right to consent or not consent to sex. Do not tell me or any other woman that she can only have sex when she loves someone or is attracted to someone or is sex-positively horny for someone or is in the politely prized possession of a husband. Do not tell me or any other woman that she is "too good" to work in the one industry that women naturally should dominate. Do not tell me or any other woman that it's more respectable to do ANYTHING for money other than turn a trick. All of that bullshit is part of the the same belief system that claps people on the back who perpetrate violence against sex workers and says, "what you did to her? SHE'S A PIECE OF GARBAGE AND SHE FUCKING ASKED FOR IT." And that? That's part of the same belief system that enables violence against ALL women. It's also part of the same belief system that leaves women in helping professions like teaching, nursing, and mothering grossly underpaid and overworked: because women should not do the most important jobs in the world for MONEY, we should do them for LOVE. You know what that I call that? A BIG FAT CROCK OF SHIT.
If that's not enough for you to think about, here are some suggestions for behavior I think would go a long way in changing this mindset that promotes violence against all women via endorsing violence against sex workers/subverting sex workers' rights:
*Don't sit in mute and complicit witness when your friends, coworkers, acquaintances, partners, etc. use hateful speech against women and sex workers. Use peer pressure by expressing disapproval of expressions of hostility towards sex workers. Challenge them to rethink their prejudices. Tell them they sound like crazy fucking assholes. Tell them you don't want to hear that shit and walk away from them. Just do *something* instead of accepting that it's okay. Even if they respond initially with belligerence or defensiveness, it will give them food for thought and make them think twice the next time they feel like saying that. Anything you can do to break down the assumption that prostitutes and sex workers are "fair game" is a step in the right direction.
*Never, EVER, shortchange a sex worker, refuse to pay a sex worker after receiving service, demand or force a sex worker provide services she doesn't want or hasn't agreed to, or tolerate someone bragging who does any of those things. Stealing service from a sex worker IS RAPE. Also, make sure our justice system knows that assaulting or forcing a sex worker to perform or endure sex acts without meeting her (or his) terms and conditions IS RAPE, not some lesser charge (read this story for an example).
*Buy time with a sex worker. Pay your sex worker with the same respect and appreciation you give any other person who provides you with service. Hell, pay your sex worker with GREATER respect and appreciation than you'd give other service providers because sex workers do their work at greater social costs and legal risks. Act as proud of supporting your favorite sex workers as you are proud of supporting your favorite record store, restaurant, mechanic, or chiropractor.
*Let people know you support sex workers, and have the balls to say that you proudly patronize sex workers (if you do). Be vocal in your support for sex workers' rights. Let people know you think sex work is a valuable service and that women own their own bodies, are capable of making their own decisions about what to do with them, and should not be denied the right to set the conditions (and prices) to access them under their own terms. Insist that NO ONE -- not the government, not other women, not their husbands or boyfriends or jealous stalkers, and not their customers -- should tell a woman what she can or cannot do with her own body, either for free or for money.
*Think critically about sex work and prevailing attitudes towards sex workers. Question media portrayals of sex work, and do so OUT LOUD to get other people thinking and talking about it too. Ask yourself whether or not your positions on sex worker rights are consistent with your other positions on women and women's rights (example: if you believe no one should interfere in a woman's right to an abortion, why is it okay to interfere with her right to charge someone money to touch or be touched by her?).
*Recognize and publicize that not all sex work is the same while also acknowledging sex work for what it is, wherever it is (in many marriages, for example). DO NOT equate sexual slavery with sex work performed by consent. Feminists: don't get all hysterical and irrational by insisting that all sex work is intrinsically bad; it's horrible when women and girls are kidnapped, forced to act as sex slaves, are raped, assaulted and killed but you just sound like fucking morons with your inability to separate those crimes from sex work done by women who CHOOSE to do it on their own terms. EVERYTHING A WOMAN DOES WITH HER BODY OR INVITES SOMEONE ELSE TO DO WITH HER BODY SHOULD BE DONE ON HER OWN INDIVIDUAL TERMS. It is unacceptable for anyone, man or woman, to set those terms for another woman (or man).
*Read about sex work, sex worker rights, womens' rights and feminism (from as many sources/voices as possible). Be open-minded. Be rational. Decide what's right for you and let other people decide what is right for themselves. Understand that sex worker rights are a gender issue and educate yourself about other gender issues. Do what you can to understand and prevent rape (that's right, ESPECIALLY if you are a guy).
*Let your elected representatives, local law enforcement and government agencies know that you support sex worker rights and that discrimination against sex workers is intolerable and counterproductive. Have arguments handy that illustrate the perverse double standards used to regulate socially acceptable industries vs. the sex industry. Learn what a "victimless crime" is and do not tolerate people trying to turn bullshit abstractions into crime. Write to the media and complain when you read or hear biased reporting on sex work-related stories.
*Demand higher wages for ALL work traditionally viewed as "women's" work: mothering, caretaking, nursing, teaching and WHORING.
*Support womens' right to reject men. It is crucial to women's right to choose that they be allowed to choose other women as mates and be given the same rights and privileges that heterosexual partners enjoy. Women should not have to insist that they didn't "choose" to be queer and that it was all decided biologically. Lesbians should not be obligated to soothe ruffled feathers by promising that they really love and appreciate men, just not in that "special" way (even if it's true). Stopping violence against women mostly means stopping men from perpetrating that violence, and the first step in doing that is insisting that men are not ENTITLED to our bodies. The second step is making everyone believe it. We do not need to make excuses for saying no and those of us who DO say no (whether by not having sex with men, not shacking up with men, or by specifying the conditions under which they will have sex and/or specify the TYPE of sex they will have with men) should not be punished for it.
A comment from a viewer (SonicSanta) to me during a webcam show I did on one of the big cam networks yesterday:
"Your morose demeanor and wan speech patterns are highly alluring."
Mmmmm, that's me -- alluringly wan and morose!
I couldn't help being delighted by SonicaSanta's remark even though I don't think I was particularly morose yesterday and suspect it wasn't intended to be a genuine compliment (though it might be if he's a Tim Burton fan). I'll have to analyze the archived video to determine whether or not my speech patterns were wan.
SonicSanta later decided my "alluring" behavior can be attributed to me living in the Pacific Northwest.
A screen capture from WebWhoreHQ cam (this is what I look like right now):
Don't my boobs look . . . flat, elongated and shapeless? Don't I look like a someone with no sense of style who does love the color red and is trying unsuccessfully to have a presentable "look"? Don't I look like the kind of person who would enjoy contentedly explaining that she doesn't personally relate to the notion of gender as identity-shaping?
Do I look like I'm living a glamorous life? Do I look like a pornographer/camgirl/webwhore? Do I look like I even have a sexual life?
This would be a perfect moment to blog about a bunch of things I like to mull over and have been thinking about (and experiencing) a lot lately: aspiring to ugliness, aging, shapeshifting, the sexuality of pregnancy, my plans for my future as a working, evolving webwhore, etc. But I'm just going to continue on my contented way back into bed wearing my dorky flannel and fleece, living the good old American life.
I think we're going to fuck tonight, see.
And I think there's nothing more provocative or challenging than a woman who appears unsexy or sexless having really fantastic sex, or even enjoying just mediocre, regular sex. And having people pay to watch and listen to her do it. It's almost revolutionary, I think.
This is what I look like (right now). This is part of who I am. This is more "me" than Trixie in stockings, Trixie in corset, or Trixie in . . . wait a second, Trixie in red dress with white polka dots is as much me as fleece and flannel me is. Dual Trixie.
Haven't had sex all week except with my hitachi magic wand. Not complaining about that. But am looking forward to a nice roll in the hay tonight. Had wonderful kissing session with trans girlfriend today. I'm very happy.
I wonder how many beautiful women can say the same. I wonder how many of them would envy me versus how many would pity me my life/style.
Just wondering, not guessing. Very capable of amusing myself without reaching any conclusion. I am (and think that I look like) a woman who can amuse herself. Easily. It's called imagination, bralessness, and a forgiving elastic waistband in my pajama bottoms that allows my mind to wander free from the distraction of discomfort.
I almost did something crazy just now . . . I started filling out an application to work in a grocery store.
Oh my god! Is money REALLY that tight for Trixie? Or is she quitting webwhoring? Errr . . . what the fuck?
It's nothing like that. It's actually more embarrassing than that; I don't NEED another job, I just really like cashiering. Sometimes when I go to the store I am jealous, and I just think it would be fun to pick up a Saturday or holiday shift or a busy dinner rush now and again. Sometimes I just want to get out of the house and do something regular, normal . . . something with a rhythm and set of rules. Something with clearly defined boundaries. Something where I pick things up, move them only a couple feet, then set them down in a bag. Something that doesn't require a lot of complex thought. Something that doesn't involve planning for the future. Someplace where I'm never asked to make big decisions.
Sometimes I'm just tired of being in our house, and I don't want to socialize exactly, but I want to interact (in very predictable, regimented ways) with people. I guess normal people would go out and have a drink with friends in my situation, but that is SO INTENSELY BORING AND COUNTERPRODUCTIVE TO ME. The thought of sitting in a bar drinking to relax just bores me STIFF. But the thought of having a mundane, repetitive job sounds relaxing and wonderful to me. I like counting money and typing on little keypads and scanning things. I would be standing up and lifting things! I would feel so efficient and pleasantly robotic.
I know I have a college education and I don't *have* to get a job like "that", but how can I explain how much I want one sometimes? Sometimes I just want things to be simple, rote. Cashiering is like a video game job.
I can't really afford to take time off from our sites to have a smiling robot job, though. Part of me seductively whispers that maybe it would REFRESH me for my real job here in internet porn. If I knew I wouldn't be pressured to work when I couldn't and I knew I wouldn't have to wash toilets or face product or, god forbid, MOP anything, and I could just work at a checkstand, like, once a week or something . . . I would totally do it.
I feel like I shouldn't be admitting this.
I feel embarrassed about this desire, but today isn't the first time I've felt this way. Lately I have been fantasizing about getting a temporary job doing data entry (there's nothing like that available in our town so it really is just a fantasy). I enjoy the world of what-other-people-consider to-be menial labor. I enjoy the structure of it. And I really like typing. Do you know that? I REALLY LIKE TYPING. I like the sound of it, the feeling of it. I like the cadence of data entry. I like escaping into work that only requires lower-level thinking. I have told myself that I could pretend in my head that I'm only getting a job like that as research for a book, but that would be a lie. I just like learning the little subcultures of wage-earners.
People who've never had normal jobs like this, I'll bet they don't know how fascinating they can be and how interesting the people you work with are. There are the people who are surprisingly interesting, and there are the people who are predictably dull. And I usually like them all. I would never want to feel stuck in a job like that, but those kinds of jobs can be extremely SATISFYING. They're mechanical, manageable, and fun to master.
My job(s) right now? I will never "master" any of them. Sometimes that's really cool and exciting and sometimes it just makes me feel tired and want to cry.
Sometimes I just want to have a stack of work and see it visibly reduced as I complete each piece, one at a time. Sometimes I just want to know when my shift is over. Sometimes I just want to be faster than someone else. Sometimes I just want things to be simple, and to go home and spend the whole night reading a book or watching tv without feeling guilty about it because I should be doing something creative and productive and special. Sometimes I don't feel like I can be productively creative and sometimes I don't want to be special. Sometimes I just want to be a worker bee and enjoy being a well-oiled piece in a bigger machine. Sometimes I want to be able to blame corporate or upper management or just some dickwad above me for my problems and limited range of motion. Sometimes I am just so tired of not having anyone to blame but myself.
Sometimes I just want to know exactly what the people in charge of my paycheck want from me, and to be able to ask them that point blank if I don't. What do you want from me? Sometimes I just want to know who those people are, and have there only be one or two of them. With my job(s) right now, it really is cool and almost divine to be able to make so many people happy in so many different ways, but it makes repeated success complicated and unpredictable. Everyone wants something different and everyone is so many people in so many different time zones. Who are they? What do they want from me NOW? This is not easy, and the only way to make it easy is to only care about yourself in a way that requires turning inward too far.
Sometimes I want to know that I can quit, but the problem is that I can't. I can never and will never quit this job I have now. This is my work and it's what I'm supposed to do with most of my life. Sometimes it's boring to have found your life's work and know that you're never actually going to be GREAT at it. It (in all of the different forms it does and will take) will be special, but it won't be GREAT. The best I can hope for and work towards is that someday it will be more profitable, but money is not as great a motivator as greatness, so these days I move forward very slowly.
Sometimes I'm depressed, and that sometime is now (especially without the wonderful, magical, mood-stabilizing happiness that is hormonal birth control). Sometimes I feel like a failure for being a regular person, and sometimes I feel like I'm about to really EMBRACE being average and become crazily happy with that. Sometimes I am.
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.
Details and insights from our two day shooting spree:
S T A T S :
Created: 906 photos in five different galleries, 45 minutes in 3 JO (jack-off) videos
Costs: $186 - room $110 - four pairs of inexpensive shoes $100 - legwear and hosiery accessories $170 - other bargain-hunted clothes, panties, and bras Total: $566
Average approximate cost per photo: $1.60
Note: these are all approximations. I didn't account for the cost of our cosmetics, lights, camera, camcorder, memory cards, tapes, luggage, or time. The total number of pictures is inaccurate since we won't actually use all of those photos; some of them will be junked. Considering these factors, the average cost per photo is actually grossly underestimated. On the other hand, many elements of our "costumes" will be used over and over again, or have already been used in other shoots, so figuring in their total cost for this shoot is an overestimation. I also didn't average in the video production, although the videos probably have greater potential for sales.
V A L U E : Of course, I think the amount of money we spend to make porn is "worth it", otherwise I wouldn't do it. Some people would say we spend too much money on our shoots, others not enough. Some people would say we don't shoot enough content, others would say we shoot too much. To really measure whether or not what we spend is "worth it", we'd have to know how much we'll earn on each photo set and video, or how many sales we'll make or memberships we'll retain because of each one. This is next to impossible to determine. There will probably be someone who loves Delia's satin panties so much, and specifically seeing HER in them that he'll buy a membership if he sees a sample photo, and keep his membership in hopes she'll shoot MORE satin panty stuff. But there's no way of figuring out how many of these people are out there.
In the final assessment we have to look at each photo gallery and video as one small piece of a large body of work, since most of the money we make comes from selling subscriptions to access it as a whole, not per photo set or video (though we do a little of that too).
If forced to figure out the potential earnings from just this block of content we produced over the past couple of days, I have to first say that THERE IS NO LIMIT. We could sell these photos and videos to a billion people, barring a legal disaster. Of course, that (selling a billion memberships) probably won't happen. The photos and videos will also probably decrease in value as time goes on due to overexposure, leaps in technology raising acceptable quality standards, etc.
If REALLY forced to figure out how much we'll make in the short term off of these photos and videos, I'll lead you through this explanation:
1) Monthly memberships to our sites currently cost about $20. 2) After processing fees (15%) and affiliate payouts (average of 23%), we average about $12.40. 3) That doesn't account for any of our other business expenses like
*hosting costs ($399 a month) *electricity to power our computers and provide us with light and heat while we're working (maybe $75 a month avg.) *cable AND dsl (about $140 a month) to run our 10+ spycams, do our shows, upload our content to the server, etc. *taxes (jesus FUCKING christ) *software, scripts, smaller hosting packages, domain names, blah blah blah (at least $50 a month) *time *health insurance (which we don't have) *gym memberships, hair coloring, and all those things we do to try to make ourselves pretty (at least $150 a month on average)
On the very low side, not counting our rent, food, time, taxes or any of that, those expenses I mentioned come to about $800.
So how many memberships do we need to sell to pay the very bare minimum of our expenses for two months (eluding the tax man all the while) plus pay for a photo shoot costing $566 that will provide just one of our websites with about two months of updates? We would need $2,166 just to break even. At $12.40 per membership, we'd need to sell 174 one month subscriptions or 87 per month. That is 174 different joins or 87 different people who stay on for two months.
Fortunately, we do that and more. The part that makes it "worth it", though, is not actually having to go through these calculations every day (or even every month or quarterly) to know what we do is valuable. I know very well that THE POTENTIAL money we can make off our content vastly exceeds what we spend to make it. We don't vastly exceed it right now -- NOT EVEN CLOSE -- but I can't describe to people how incredibly exciting it is to have NO VISIBLE CEILING on our potential to make money. There's no top of the pay scale, and that rocks so hard that I keep on trucking in spite of my hideous debt load.
F U N: How much fun we have making porn is almost as important as the money in determining the value of our work. Some of you might be horrified and turned-off by my money talk and haven't even made it this far into my calculations, but what we do truly is fun. No, I don't mean my panties are soaking wet every second that I'm working, but our work is fun and rewarding on many levels.
Take this photo shoot as an example. My panties WERE indeed quite wet (though not exactly "soaking") while I shot Delia. Especially while seeing her in those satin panties. Aside from the obvious stimulation of watching Delia pose for me, there's the added bonus of pondering the "end users" who will enjoy the content. I like thinking about what they're going to do to themselves when they see the photos and videos. I like thinking about individuals (in a shadowy and anonymous way) who have very specific tastes and imagining I'm shooting at least a few shots that will wind up favorites because they have a nice photo of someone special/different (Delia or me) exhibiting something in particular they can just never get enough of (panties, nylons, precum, snappy garters, bare feet, cleavage, upskirts, hairy pussy, freckles or whatever).
It is FUN to capture beautiful, sexy images. It's fun to be the one saving and sharing it, knowing it will elicit little utterances of pleasure from people all over the world. It's also a challenge, and challenges are fun, too.
P H O T O G R A P H E R -VS- M O D E L : We only shot one Trixie set/of me, and the rest of the time we shot Delia. Sometimes I enjoy my shoots, particularly ones involving videos with role plays. Often they are interesting from a technical perspective. Most often, though, I enjoy shooting other people. Sexually I get off on shooting other people more than I do by being the "model". When I do get off on "modeling", it's usually because I am imagining someone *else* getting off on the end product.
This time around I wasn't feeling very sexy about being in front of the camera, partly because my body felt like dead weight; posing for (good) pictures is pretty demanding on your body so being in good shape is kind of important. I'm not. Anyway, I was totally in dirty old man mode. I wanted to see Delia in all her different outfits and take as many good jack-off-worthy pictures as possible, and lots of good, taunting build-up to those ones. Plus, Delia is a great model. Still, I enjoy bossing her around and giving her directions. I'm sure I annoy the piss out of her sometimes, but I like it.
As the Delia shoots went on, I started feeling groovier and groovier. My body felt great and I felt really productive, like we were on a roll. When I am behind the camera it's almost as physically demanding as being in front of it, but way more fun because I DON'T HAVE TO LOOK PRETTY. I'm on the ground, then I'm climbing on furniture, then I'm holding my guts in an isometric contraction. I'm bending over, stretching up high, and holding as still as possible when shooting with low light (we never use flashes or speedlights; I'm not saying they're bad, we just haven't invested the money and time in buying the equipment and learning to use them properly, and we hate the way that stuff looks when done without effort). Anyway, my body warmed up and started working in a way that felt efficient, smooth, and electric. Delia looked so hot and I felt so good and alive, it was fantastic fun. I felt truly amazing inside, and utterly blessed.
We wound up coming home instead of spending the second night in the room. It was a nice room with a cozy bed, but we packed and crept out before midnight to go back home to our dog. I also really wanted to see what happened with Heather on America's Next Top Model, but our DVR only recorded twelve minutes of it for some reason. Fortunately they run a repeat on Sunday since a) I *hate* missing an episode of any shot I actually like to watch, and b) I *hate* watching television on the computer so I don't do that. It's not an option for me to waste time sitting upright at my machine trying to find some crappy bandwidth-eating stream of a tv show somewhere. That's not my idea of relaxation (though I understand why people with different jobs and better setups do it that way and someday I'm sure I will too).
I think we do a good job of balancing professionalism and productivity on our shoots with healthy personal-fulfillment. We don't shoot in a way that feels unpleasantly like an assembly line the way most porn is shot. I'd say 90% of the time we spend actually shooting (not including prep time which can be a big drag) we enjoy it and if we start getting sick of it? We can quit, do something else with our time, and look forward to the next shoot when we'll be in a sexier mood. After not shooting as much Trixie content as we planned, I actually feel really amped up with ideas, like I have a whole treasure trove of naughtiness to explore. I love anticipating shoots in that way, and I also love that we have a nice stack of Delia stuff shot so that we can spend a day, for example, focusing all of our energy on shooting just one scene that requires more creative energy than our shoots that are more photo-focused on fetish attire (nylons, panties, etc.) rather than video-focused on a role play, or shot outside and require having a whole day open to feel out the weather, pick a spot, etc.
Ideally we will have and maintain a large backlog of efficiently-shot content so that we can do more spontaneous and/or creative shoots that need the time and space to do RIGHT, by preparing properly and also having the leeway to be leisurely about it so that it feels less like a big plan and more like something exciting we've been looking forward to doing. In other words, plan well enough and have enough free time so the plan feels NATURAL and doesn't involve stress like hurrying to clean up part of the house to shoot in, buy/create props, wash the right clothes, charge up camera equipment, set up lights, etc.
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.
Being Average: My use of the word "average" as a webwhore marketing tool has changed over the past seven years. I used to focus on the ways I was not average to try to distinguish myself from other camgirls and women with paysites. Hairier than average, more honest than average, nerdier than average, etc.
The longer I do this work, the more I value the ways in which I *am* average, partly because average is charming and partly because of the company I keep online. Most of the people I associate with in this industry are women with similar values, similarly structured businesses, and above-average smarts; next to my friends I *am* average. I now prefer to think of us as the rule instead of the exception; it's less interesting or appealing to me these days to make it sound like I think I'm extraordinary by describing myself as "not your average webwhore".
As I age and mellow into my work and my body, embracing "average" appeals to me. It looks and sounds intimately awkward and fetchingly familiar. It feels celebratory and empowering. Average exudes confidence. I'm also a fan of contrast and its erotic potential: the contrast between a thick, opaque thigh-high sock, for example, and bare skin above it is SO much sexier than a completely naked leg. The same thing applies to beauty, I think. When you notice a beautiful detail on an average (or even an ugly) woman, it's very potent and sensual. When you're average and aging, your beauty and sex appeal become magical: now you see it, now you don't. You become unreliably hot, which is very seductive because it starts to take you by surprise.
The older I get, the less interested I am in trying to be exceptional. The sound of mediocrity no longer makes me shudder; mediocrity sounds companionable. On a similar note, I no longer hate potluck food: cold noodle salads and deviled eggs are delicious!
If you've never been to one of my hour-long camshows with a group audience, here's the type of chatty performance you are missing:
How'd you like that? I have a show scheduled in 2.5 hours so you can get in on the real live action or even ask me pesky questions yourself that will make me groan with impatience and respond with condescension. If you're patient you might also hear me talk about a variety of bodily functions. If you're *really* patient you will certainly see my nude boobies and me having an orgasm with my hitachi magic wand.
That's also the first video I've ever posted on YouTube. Part of me would love to make weird videos for YouTube, but another part of me really detests editing video (which is why it's taking me days and days to finish the video compilation I'll finally be posting for members today). I *hate* watching footage OVER and OVER again and doing all the little time-wasting things you have to do just to produce something completely amateurish and mediocre. Fortunately I like amateurish, mediocre videos as long as they have a wee bit of personality so I don't feel totally bad about My Crappy Videos -- as long as they're getting a few people off and/or eliciting a few giggles I'm happy.
I'm also going to be posting the first in a series of questionnaires/forms for members to fill out so we can get to know them better. This is yet another task that sounds deceptively simple (just type out a few questions, Trixie -- you're a fast typist!) but took shitloads of time to concoct even after I bought a subscription to a site that does the hardest parts of the server-side coding for me. I actually enjoy doing this kind of work, though, much more than I enjoy editing video because the video stuff requires a lot of waiting around (for things to encode) and watching things over and over . . . you aren't actively working or thinking all of the time so it really makes me want to slit my throat with boredom and aggravation. The form thing actually feels much more creative to me and I actually enjoy repetitively fucking with the little details to make it work.
Now? I pass on the love to five of my favorite chick bloggers:
GODDESS GLORY I've been dying to have a free week to focus solely on writing an ode to Goddess Glory and all of the reasons I admire and cherish her. Without taking a week to do so right now, I'll just introduce her by saying that she's an unshaven, ball-busting, enema-loving, awe-inspiring, mesmerizing, W-O-M-A-N. She's also one of those rare and splendid people with a complex and highly-developed sense of self-defined VALUES that she applies to everything she does. The Almighty Glorious Glory is an earnest philosophizer, and a head-spinning dual-character of humility and divinity, lover and fighter.
ADORABLE AUDREY What makes Audrey a Rockin' Girl Blogger? Is it her frequent postings of alluring girl-next-door photographs? Is it her readability? Is it her sincerity? Of course it's all of those things, but for me, personally, it's her consummate professionalism. I'm a sucker for an extraordinary work ethic, and Audrey's is truly top-notch. I hate to mention it since "great work ethic" probably sounds boring to most people, but to me it's not just a laudable characteristic -- it's fucking HOT. Audrey is the kind of person who does ten times as much and does it all ten times better than 99% of the webgirls I know, all while maintaining a relaxed and alluring demeanor. Aside from "spectacular work ethic" being super-sexy to me personally, it's super-sexy from a porn consumer's standpoint because she delivers way more to her customers than they could ever afford to pay for. PRICELESS, she is.
EX-MILLENNIAL GIRL Stefanie is a GIFT. She writes with ease, humour, honesty, humility and acuity about herself, addiction and stripping. She's got talent and her own voice, and if you haven't been reading her you should fucking start from the beginning and catch the fuck up BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN/ARE MISSING OUT. She has the skill to tell her story so that it's accessible to anyone; you don't have to be a girl or an addict or a stripper or a customer to get it. You also don't have to worry about getting totally depressed; while a lot of the subject matter IS depressing, she's got a subtle positivity vibe that keeps you on an even keel emotionally without being Pollyanna-ish.
KRIS MADISON Most of you who know me well are probably also acquainted with Kris so I hope I don't have to expand on her many readily-apparent appealing qualities. Instead, I'd like to share something about her you might NOT know about: she knows a lot about a lot of stuff. Again, this probably sounds like a cop-out of a compliment to some people, but it's one of those qualities *I* am attracted to and that might be missed simply because she doesn't advertise it on her blog (which is part of what makes her blog readable; it's focused and coherent). Kris is the kind of person who loves to research and quietly infiltrate subcultures and niche areas of industry and expertise. She holds stuff in her head and applies it to her many (secret ninja) projects; you cannot have a conversation with this woman without her stealthily revealing yet another cache of knowledge on something intriguing you've never heard about before. In terms of her blog, I appreciate its readability even more because if *I* knew as much as Kris does, it would not be possible for me to present an organized thought. I would just say things like, "I deplete ATM manna pool now cheeseburger hack this ebook ROI point shoot traffic hymen matrix. Eh?"
SESKA Here's what I love about Seska's blog: ZERO PRETENSION. With all of the people and stuff Seska knows, the projects she's involved in and the respect she has earned inside (and outside) the adult industry, her blog never reads like it's full of insider-information that only the "cool" people will understand, and for that reason it feels very intimate and personal, like private notes she's writing just to you and herself. She never just *assumes* you have knowledge about the industry or sex or women or her hobbies or books or television or anything; she always gently guides you into her world by describing and defining each term, event and niche-reference she uses. A major pet peeve of mine are bloggers whose writing is so rife with obscure references, acronyms, geek-speak, etc. that they only can be understood by a very small portion of the population 10% of the time; I find that so aggravating that people like Seska and Kris stand out for taking the time to make their blogs readable. And as far as the zero pretension thing goes, as a person and web personality part of why she's outstanding is she extends respect to all of her readers and to people in general; her blogging and interactions with other people do not rely upon witty criticisms or laughing at other people. Seska is always refreshingly kind and that is pretty fucking unique and inspiring in the world of blogs and men.
I admit that I awarded these gals with "Rockin' Girl Blogger" awards based less on their blogs and more on everything I know about them. I also have to admit that this took me FOREVER to write: over three hours, in fact. Let this be another lesson to non-bloggers about the kind of stuff it takes for Rockin' Girl Bloggers to do what we do -- IT TAKES TIME. Maybe I'm just a dumbass and it takes forever and a day for me to write stuff that would take a normal person ten minutes to write, but my guess is that the majority of people who don't write have NO idea the amount of time and energy put into it. Allow me to take this opportunity to thank Angela of ZenFetish for honoring me by taking that time to give me such very warm fuzzies.
A few boob-oriented pics from my most recent gallery (with some hairy armpits thrown in for good measure):
Yes, I was having much fun:
More hair and wetness, this time lower:
My boobs, up close & bumpy:
Anyway, it's a pretty plump gallery with a total of 150 pics in the members-only area; perhaps later I'll show some samples of the more panty- and upskirt-oriented shots.
Lately I haven't been in the spycam chatroom as much as I used to be in the good old days. While I love certain things about spending time in there and hate neglecting it, I probably never would have spent that much time with the chatting if I hadn't initially been paid specifically to do it by the spycam site. As compelling as chat is, there is something equally compelling in a more voyeuristic way about NOT being so accessible. So right now? We have more voyeurcams and less chat and I like having that space cushion to be able to be more in my head and working on ways to increase access to what's in it in less direct ways than actual conversation.
Another voyeurism plus is my twitter. I know you're probably sick of hearing me rave about it when it's such a mundane little tool, but I love this microblogging thing in part because it IS so voyeuristic. I love being able to know what people I like are doing, even (especially?) the mundane things, and I love being able to provide that extra layer of access to my own voyeurs. The basic message of "I'm alive, and I'm doing something" comforts me, both reading those messages from other people and sending that message myself to others. Of course, I don't take it to the irritating level of having my phone send off an alarm that someone tweeted, so I'm speaking here of enjoying it purely on the web level and intending others to read my tweets the same way.
Today we're going to try to shoot some more, plan our schedule and meals for next week, do grocery shopping, and (I hope) get some other work done. Boring little things like making ad banners and fixing the email text that is sent out to people who sign up to our sites (this chore is way more time consuming than you might imagine since a) there are join confirmation emails, cancellation emails, denial emails and expiration emails, b) all of those emails need to be updated FOR EACH SITE (DeliaCD, TastyTrixie, SpyOnUs, and TrixiesHouseboy), and c) the admin area for doing this is TOTALLY FUCKING CONFUSING; it feels like such a waste of my limited brain power).
We also really need to make plans for us to visit family soon. We haven't seen my mom, squishy nephew, sister and especially my grandma for way too long and both she and my sister have birthdays in August. On top of that, I might have jury duty next month, plus I would really like some space and alone-time to do some personal writing and maybe some piano playing. I also need to call our local friend to confirm participating in a burlesque performance. These are the things I have to save my scanty social and mental energies for rather than chat and email; I wish I had more of it to go around, but I don't. I feel guilty about it, but I know I shouldn't.
I'm uploading a new gallery for members right now. Here are some samples:
Notice the white border on the crotch of my panties (it's where the gallery name comes from and is why I'm only showing SOME of the photos on TastyTrixie.com while the rest are headed for BloodyTrixie):
I think it's a super-cute gallery while also being very natural (I start out wearing sweats and dirty shoes). It makes me miss my dark hair.
I'm feeling pretty proud of meeting my goal I set for myself this week of going to the gym four times. For me, that's a lot and I feel GRAND.
We're still trying to figure out how to make our sites easier for members to navigate now that they have access to all of them. I have only made a very few necessary changes while neglecting more important ones (like changing the price points on all of the join pages, adding links on all the members-only pages, etc.). All of our sites need a major facelift and professional programming help; I feel overwhelmed by the need to do things up properly, but am trying to accept that our sites are still cool even without the "proper" fixes. Websites are cool because they're so dynamic and always in flux. Websites are also a huge headache to operate for exactly the same reasons. Websites about PEOPLE who are always changing? Even MORE cool and MORE of a headache. If our sites never needed changing that would be a scary sign that we as people were stagnating. Fortunately, we're anything but stagnant.
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've not gotten addicted to any web phenoms like youtube, myspace, or any of that (besides blogger and protopage, of course). But today I discovered twitter and it's PERFECT for my compulsive desire to log everything and make sure people know what I'm doing:
I posted my twitter "badge" in my sidebar (over there to the left, in pink) so you can see my latest updates. I'm considering other places to post it (phone sex listings? Members-only page?) It would be a perfect way to alleviate the paranoia I sometimes feel that my voyeurs are thinking that whatever I'm doing at my desk is not nearly as productive as getting naked and chatting with them would be.
I also love up-to-the-minute coverage (in brief) of what people I adore are doing.
I just read a book that felt like it was all about my life, even though it's about many women and many different ways the internet is a tool for our sexual exploration: Naked on the Internet: Hookups, Downloads, and Cashing in on Internet Sexploration. To be fair, I was one of the (many) people interviewed by the author, Audacia Ray, so portions of the book ARE specifically about me and webwhoring; I guess I shouldn't act surprised that some of it speaks directly to my experiences, but for THE WHOLE ENTIRE BOOK to feel so relevant to me from page one throughout chapters that I *wasn't* interviewed for?
It is *thrilling* to hold a bundle of pages representing women's history in my hands and know that our experiences have been fairly represented and intelligently preserved by someone who knows what she's talking about and is part of this phenomenal webby wave of self-publishing, sexual agency, capitalism and more. It is *thrilling* to know that our friend wrote our stories in a way that is intimate, readable and entertaining in addition to being smart and informative. It is *thrilling* knowing this book can stand the test of time to continue telling our stories and marking our spots in history for generations to come -- because of NOTI's wide scope of coverage, Dacia's deftness in developing context without getting bogged down in boring details with expiration dates (hard to avoid when you're talking about technology), and her facility in introducing tons of people, projects and ideas in a way that breeds instant familiarity, this book is top drawer stuff for anyone now or in the future who gives even half a shit about women, our impact on the internet and its very personal impact on us.
Aside from appreciating the book's history-making, I loved reading it because it provoked an awareness in me of what I do, have done and want to keep doing; it made me reflect upon and examine my life from a more distant vantage point than I usually stop to consider (and a basic reminder of how the internet has allowed my life to be something better and very different from what it would be without it). It also accomplished something I haven't thought possible for myself in a long time; it made me feel connected to a huge group of women with common experiences.
I actually took a bunch of notes while I read the book, so I'm going to be writing a few follow-up posts sharing more personalized enthusiastic responses about stuff like immortality, cyberdildonics, personal blogging, etc.
I wrote the following "blog" entry for our affiliates to plug into their own blogs to try to get people interested in a membership to Delia's site:
Some people's idea of heaven is a hot chick with a dick, someone like Delia, a devilish angel with a she-cock:
Full Gallery appearing now in Delia's Members-Only area . JOIN NOW for ALL of her pics, vids & spycams!
If there's a God, s/he surely must have populated the fluffy clouds of our afterlife with dreamy companions fusing the anatomical wonders of both genders, defying the restrictive binary categories of our earthly lives and elevating us to a place where true transcendence is exhibited everywhere. You know what would be even cooler? If upon entering heaven we got to construct our own hodge-podge anatomy, like plugging parts onto a Mr/Mrs Potato Head. I'll take the milky DD breasts, a very tight hairless sphincter, a vagina hole and a gigantic uncut cock placed directly atop said vagina hole. And really well-developed biceps so they won't be dwarved by my extra large wings. I hope they're also passing out non-scratchy elasticized rhinestone cockrings and fuckable eye-sockets. Wouldn't it be great to see a shemale's cock coming right for your eyeball, getting bigger and bigger, and then, like, penetrating it?? And then when she starts fucking your brain you hear music, like heavenly voices, like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing inside your head.
I'll admit I didn't write this blog entry; Delia's crazy-ass girlfriend Trixie wrote it and asked me to post it here. She's a total wingnut, but Delia is hot.
This is the kind of thing I wouldn't post in our own blogs (err, well I guess I just did but not without explaining myself), but I *love* writing anyway. For all of the complaining I do about the stupid ways people try to sell our porn, I actually enjoy joining that fray myself because it allows me to feel totally uninhibited; I feel that there's no real standard to meet, subtle soft-selling is discouraged, and I can revel in objectifying us in ways that I know should probably politically and emotionally disgust me. Oversimplifications are welcome as long as they catch people's attention quickly and I genuinely amuse myself in the process of writing promotional text. It's just FUN. I suppose it's hypocritical or at least oddly contradictory on the surface for our own site personas to be what they are and for the promotional text I write for them to be so ridiculously shallow, but I still get a huge kick out of it. Part of the fun is knowing that if I can lure someone to our sites on shallow pretenses, they'll unwittingly become ensnared in webs of the complex realities of our personalities and lives and we'll have subverted the porn "thing".
God that sounds TOTALLY FUCKING EGOMANIACAL. I hope I didn't make you barf. Please, take none of this too seriously. This is only a test.
Trixie answers pressing questions from her audience, including whether or not she likes younger men, black men, etc. She also talks about her most recent TOY purchases and the annoying obligation to be nice during her webcam shows.
As an over-thirty webwhore I'm used to being dumped into the "MILF" category by porn people reviewing or promoting me and my site (even though I'm totally NOT a mother).
But promoting me as a GRANNY? Wow! I'm finding my galleries appearing on sites with names like "Meaty Grannies" and "Grandma Pie". AND THEY ARE MAKING SALES so I guess the ploy is working and my granny-like sex appeal is high.
Here is one of my galleries that's being passed off as totally grandma-licious. It WAS one of my favorite sets of pictures but now I'm looking at it through a totally different lens and seeing crone-like characteristics that I never noticed before in every photo. Due to the backlight and shadows on my face, I *do* look rather wizened in this photo; I even appear to have a soft silvery beard that just never caught my eye prior to being marketed as a granny.
I'm looking forward to the day when I actually AM in my golden years; if they're adding forty years onto me now, when I'm seventy-five I'll then be able to market myself in the MOTHERFUCKING IMMORTAL category of porn, as yet to be established.
Haglike queen of the undead fucks young bucks with her magical cock-shaped sceptre.
Vampiric crone sucks the life force out of frat boy's pecker.
My nascent bubblegum fetish is getting bigger and bigger and BIGGER. I can't resist integrating it into my group webcam shows (as in the above image snagged by DavieUK during one of my Monday shows) and I'm beginning to crave it during (non-recorded) sex.
After my late show on Monday my g-spot was still craving action so I lured Tucker into the bedroom and climbed on top of him to rub my long-socked legs all over him. I suddenly felt like if I had some gum to chew and blow everything would be PERFECT. And then I got an urge to not only wear long socks and blow bubbles while fucking, but also to slap Tucker silly. Alas, he said he would need to be tanked to endure a slap-session and because I'd already combined in my head the gum-chewing/blowing with the face-slapping I didn't even bother getting off Tucker to go into my office for gum. Instead we had a loud and heated session of "regular" sex including some doggy-style after my orgasm. I have never had an orgasm while being fucked from behind (except with the aid of a vibrator) so even though I enjoy it and experience pleasure from it, we usually don't do it that way unless we're in extended-play mode. Unfortunately no one sent me a screen capture from that session, but I imagine those watching were too busy with other things to be copying and pasting screen grabs.
As some of you've heard already, we're going to start an ongoing contest with monthly winners for voyeurs who submit screen caps. The only reason I keep procrastinating on starting and announcing it is I feel like I need to write some tutorials for those who don't already know how to do the print screen thing. I also have some software to recommend for people to be able to automate the process and even capture video with audio. I'm sure some fellow webwhores will think it's totally irresponsible of me to teach viewers how to archive our live performances and spycam moments, but I don't really have a problem with it as long as they don't try to resell them or post scads of them on message boards, etc. I actually feel like it's totally taking advantage of members to get them to record content and then send it to me so I can use it to make money. Seems like a fair trade to me when it boils down to it.
I'll be posting more bubblegum and long sock content to my members area today so if you're not sick of my bubblegum obsession, you'll be pleased.
FYI: the bubble in the above pic was blown with four or five pieces of Bazooka.
During one of my webcam shows one man, a Bob, asked me to describe my "wildest fantasy".
I told him paying off my credit cards is my biggest, wildest fantasy.
You really need to qualify a question like that if you want to corner me into hot talk during a free group show otherwise I'm going to tell you THE TRUTH. Before he heard my answer he told me that he was my man and all I need to do is go to Georgia to have my "wildest fantasy" fulfilled. By him. By a Bob. Then he gave me someone's phone number for over 500 people in the chatroom to read. I should have called it and said, "that will be $42,621.05 to fulfill me, Bob."
On a *slightly* more erotic note, one of my fantasies is to lavish friends and strangers with gifts. I am particularly fond of fantasizing about gifting former female friends I'm currently estranged from. I want them to know that I love them even though I'm not a good friend. And yes, I do also fantasizing about giving presents to the women I share in-tact friendships with.
I would write a beautiful, detailed list of some of the gifts I want to give some of these women but at least a few of them read this blog and I don't want to ruin the surprise; I intend someday to fulfill these fantasies, wild as they may be.
Fact: Big Kenny of the band Big and Rich had $140,000 in credit card debt when they were making their first album. So don't give me any shit about having all that baggage!!! Debt seriously doesn't kill everyone and anyway, it gives me something to fantasize about that's rife with the thrill of danger!
Right now is one of those moments when I am IN LOVE with my job, my boyfriend, my life and even myself. Pictures like these ones give me an idea of just how good things are and could be with a little more effort. It all seemed wonderfully synchronous to wind up with such retro sets right while I was reading James Ellroy and my mom's house always turns out great light and ambiance.
I know Delia probably won't be as excited about the black and white set as I am because of the harsher less-feminine lines and shadows, but as far as interesting PHOTOS go they are so much fun to look at. Of course, I wind up criticizing the baseboard heater and radios in the background that are from later eras. I always wonder what it would be like to shoot for a couple of hours and only try to get between one and ten really GREAT photos instead of trying to get 75-150 pics designed to lead to a thorough jack-off fantasy. I suppose we could find out, but I'm not really that curious to work it into our schedule.
What I'm more curious about is how cool it would be to invest in a fixer-upper without having any financial pressure to actually fix it up fast; the idea of having an older home that's kind of trashed out with texture to shoot in really appeals to me. Being able to do messy paintjobs and wacky shit without worrying about "ruining" the house would rock. I suppose first we have to be able to afford a house we can actually LIVE in, though.
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.
We just got home from our shooting spree and at least one of the galleries is just FUCKED. A cute/silly one, too! It's like the photos are broken down into big blocky pixel-like chunks and I can't for the life of me figure out WHY. We didn't change any settings on the camera or do anything odd that I can think of. The next set of photos turned out fine, and actually many of the photos within the same set are normal.
Here's what it looks like (you have to click on the small picture to see the problem):
CLICK ON THE PIC TO SEE THE PROBLEM
I have no desire to waste time troubleshooting things like this either. Was it the camera? Was it the connection when I downloaded them? Is it the memory card? WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS CHOWING ON OUR PHOTOS??? I *have* noticed that it seems like our picture quality has been going down over the past six months and I've blamed our camera maybe just getting old and being overworked, but I've never seen anything this overtly fucked up.
On top of that the past couple of VIDEOS I downloaded from one of our camcorders and edited had problems too (beeps and weird blocky almost-eaten pixel areas). Is it my aura that's causing these problems or what? Again, I hate wasting time trying to eliminate possibilities one step at a time (cable? tape? camcorder? WHAT?). And it seems crazy to just go buy a new camcorder and a new camera particularly when the issues aren't happening consistently.
And on top of THAT? The CD/DVD drive on my new computer I just bought in January is no longer working. What the fuck??
Oh well. I'm just glad *all* of our pics weren't ruined. Maybe I'll buy an inexpensive camera while we're still trying to decide/save up for a fancy replacement. Maybe someone reading this has an idea of what the problem is? If so, fire away . . . it would be a consolation just to know what's wrong even if "what's wrong" is that the camera is totally shot out.
Shit!! Delia is camming tonight in one of her blonde wigs and in three hours made three times as much as she made last week as a brunette in six hours. GUYS SPEND MORE MONEY ON BLONDES. That's all there is to it.
I have an appointment to get my hair colored tomorrow and planned to stick with dark hair just ONE MORE TIME but Delia's income tonight reminds me once again how foolish it is to cling to my brunette locks. FOOLISH. There's no backing out now, though, as all of my outfits I've lined up for our next two photo shoots look best with dark hair. ALL OF MY FAVORITE COLORS LOOK BEST WITH DARK HAIR!! Coral, salmon, aqua, orange, pink, red. I do *love* brown, though, and brown looks best with blonde hair.
When I'm in hermit mode I *love* to do work that only requires lower-level thinking skills: stuff that's repetitive and allows me to get into a mind-numbing rhythm where I can hyperfocus on the trivial details of the task at hand. Jobs where I can totally lose myself.
One of those jobs is adding galleries to my neglected/underdeveloped/unfinished free porn site. Another is finding photos and clips to post and write about over at my Live WebWhores blog. I seriously wish I could spend a couple of weeks doing nothing but writing blog entries there, and then at least a full workday or two per month after that. Does it qualify as work? Yeah, it does; I promote iFriends from that Live WebWhores blog.
I know some people think we webwhores are supposed to pretend that we do all of this sex work and blogging PURELY for the sheer pleasure and sexual ecstasy of it, but I simply must ruin the mystique of it to tell you that every time someone joins iFriends for free from one of my sites I actually make more money on that free join than when someone joins MY site and pays for it. Wacky, huh? The truth is I could make more money promoting other people's sites for 25% of the work and legal risks and at 5% of the expense of running our own sites. That fact on its own should mitigate any damage I've done by reminding people that I do this work for profit since I clearly must love operating our sites if I continue to do it in spite of the fact that I could make more money with less effort in other ways.
As it stands, I enjoy so many aspects of this industry that I can't help scattering my efforts all over the place. It's nice to have a job for every mood even though it makes it a challenge to make efficient time-management decisions. In the end, I think it's pretty healthy and cool. And fuck, I really need to make more time to CONSUME porn and enjoy it; it doesn't make sense for me to make porn but allow myself so little time to peruse other people's. Example: best movie gallery I stumbled upon today: self-conscious slightly-dorky but-still-hot guy tugging himself outside. These are thing I *need* to see, right??
Okay, so I know some people got excited about this week's members-only update thinking it would be this photo set. But instead you're getting 40 minutes of video like these pictures, only louder and more obnoxious:
I know some of you think I don't give a rat's ass who I offend, but there's a middle ground for me especially when it comes to this kind of content. When people get pissed off at me about it, I usually think the arguments and complaints they present are laughably stupid, rude, and presumptuous but on the other hand it really DOES bother me thinking of some sweet older Christian person joining my site and totally not anticipating s/he'll be confronted by something so overtly profane. Yes, I do think it's totally possible for a Christian to join a porn site and not be a hypocrite by doing so and not even be a hypocrite for being disturbed by hearing me discuss the crucifixion in gory, sexually lurid language.
I'd love to reflect on this at length, but I'm SLEEPY and I think our guests are waiting to go get sushi so that's all I have to say about blasphemous porn right now.
We're going to be gone for a couple of days shooting; today/tonight we're shooting stuff for our sites, and tomorrow/night we're part of another bizarre custom video for someone else's client. We'll not have internet access at the location, so members -- you won't be able to spy on us.
I'm hurrying to post my members-only update for today, but of course the video blog site is NOT cooperating with me . . . grrr. Oops, there it goes. Phew!
Audacia posted a little q 'n a with me regarding her movie, The Bi Apple, so check that out here.
An anonymous person left a couple of comments saying, "hi Trixie! I was wondering if you knew what ever happened to Betty?"
The short answer is "yes". Yes, I know what happened to Betty. Yes, I know why her site isn't up anymore. But what the inquirer probably meant to ask is, "will you tell me what happened to Betty (if you happen to know the answer)?" And since the answer to THAT is "no", I chose not to publish those comments since any response I give would have to be sort of complex and never really answer the question.
I understand that people are curious when webwhores leave the internet, especially since they usually do so very mysteriously with no explanation; one day a chick's site is up and the next day . . . poof, it's gone! If a girl's done her job well, people are going to miss her when she's gone so it's kind of a compliment when people ask, "what happened to X?" On the other hand, none of us really has a RIGHT to know why she disappeared (unless of course she made off with someone's money or shut down her members-only area without a word or without offering refunds to those with time remaining).
I myself used to be completely flabbergasted by the frequent disappearances of women from the web, to the point of even being mad at them, these chicks I didn't even know personally who probably had good reasons for jumping ship. I would ask myself WHY wouldn't they leave their sites up even if they couldn't update anymore when they could just lower the price of membership, explaining they moved on to other projects but were leaving their site up for posterity? WHY would they DELETE EVERYTHING from their sites? WHY couldn't they just post a somewhat sensible brief message explaining their departure? WHY would they want to give up something they made for a new boyfriend who disagreed with their porn life (most girls who DID offer brief and, I thought, really fucking STUPID explanations said that the new men in their lives wanted them to give up the porn so they happily agreed to sacrifice their internet sex work to save their boyfriends' fragile egos, because "love" is more important than owning your own business, apparently). Oh gosh . . . I'm getting judgemental again, aren't I?!
It's so easy to do, though, when you really don't know anything about someone except that she tried running a business online and then changed her mind.
Over the past six years I've seen a whole lot of chicks come and go; some of them had very good reasons for quitting their sites. Some of them eventually returned, some of them under new aliases while others just picked up where they left off.
There was the chick who had a seizure one day while she was wearing an angora sweater and cooking. The burns were devastating, I heard, and as far as I know she hasn't returned to the web. There was the Romanian camgirl I and some of my cohorts had a crush on who was one of the most popular and visible performers on the network until the day when a totally different girl started performing under her name; I never heard what happened to Violeta Number 1. There were those who didn't set their domain names to auto-renew and lost all of their traffic and branding when their dot coms were snatched out from under them; some of them started back up under new names, but others just gave up the ghost. There was the hottie who was rumoured to have started escorting and then shut down her main site and took down her ads; I heard through the grapevine it was because of a "fan"atic that was stalking her, but eventually she came back with a newer, even-cooler site. I've no idea whether or not the stalker still plagues her or if he truly did exist in the first place to the extreme where he had an effect on her web presence.
There were many who landed straight jobs that paid better and were more fulfilling than what they did online; they had no motivation to jeopardize their careers by leaving content up that could compromise them and never made them much money anyway. Some of them left for good, but some of them are back. There were many who took time off for surgeries and reinvention or to carry and have babies and they didn't want to explain or share that with fans. There were many whose x-rated lives became targets for jealous ex's and judgemental family members who used their porn sites as leverage in custody battles. There were some who divorced the person that helped them make porn, and because the husbands (usually) were the ones who photographed the pictures they were also the ones who legally held the copyright on all the material so they were basically left owning nothing or half of something that wasn't worth bargaining for or buying out.
But mostly there were people who just didn't want to run their sites anymore (or keep doing camshows or keep taking phone calls). It didn't make them enough money or it wasn't fun anymore or whatever . . . they didn't want to keep doing it, or they wanted to take a break, or they didn't know if it was worth it anymore. Maybe some people reading this are thinking, "aha! They were only in it for the money!" Of course, I don't think that makes a woman evil, if she does something only because someone pays her to, but seriously -- that's really not the whole story on any of the people I know who've abandoned their sites or jobs as camgirls. What is usually the case is that they never actually got paid enough in the first place, but enjoyed it enough that they invested tons of time and money and personal risk in building and maintaining their sites but never actually made them profitable; they genuinely couldn't afford to keep trying. Some camgirls just got older and burned out and bored with sticking things in their cunts for strangers. Some people had some fun online but it was really just an exploratory phase so they quit when the newness and excitement wore off or when the networks they were part of changed the rules and the terms of working on their sites (lowering chathost payouts from 50% to 35%, just as one example). Some people made a lot of money in the beginning, years ago when there was less competition, and they never got accustomed to the number of players on the new field; those who didn't want to work harder for less left, quit or let their sites languish. Some girls got out of bad deals (or what they THOUGHT were bad deals) with big companies who promised to make them lots of money and never delivered (or were never given a chance to deliver) and their sites wound up redirecting to some other girl on some other site.
I honestly do wish more people would offer an explanation for why they left the industry, and actually most of them do but then the word doesn't always get around to everybody or they don't want to keep paying for a domain and hosting just to keep informing someone that they're gone for "personal reasons". On the other hand, many many people honestly CANNOT provide any explanation in anything other than the vaguest of terms. There could be legal reasons or safety issues or who-knows-what that's totally private and not necessary for anyone to ever know about or could even be DANGEROUS to them or their family if they disclosed.
So. Whatever happened to Betty? That is not my business to share. I'm assuming the people who really supported and admired her were probably aware of her blog, I would think, and I hope would have read her explanation here a long time ago, along with this follow-up post indicating that she was alive and missed porn enough that she hoped she'd be able to return to it, and if she wanted to disclose more she would have. Hell, maybe she'll read this and post a comment, but again . . . if she wanted to publicly talk about why she took down her site then she WOULD, but since she doesn't/can't, she shouldn't be pestered about it and people shouldn't try to get the inside skinny from her friends. They *especially* shouldn't try this without signing a name to their question -- anonymously asking for private information on someone doesn't come across as very well-intentioned (though it may have been -- I don't know, since I have no clue who the person was who asked). I'm pretty sure they're just curious and figure it doesn't hurt to ask, but it kind of makes me feel uncomfortable because Betty is my friend so I have a sort of rabid desire to defend her from attacks on her privacy. Whoever is asking obviously knows we're pals, so it's kind of rude to try to get me to betray her confidence.
All I can do is assure that Betty is STILL alive, she's still awesome, and she deserves to have her privacy respected. My personal hope is that we will get rich enough to hire her to do special nonsexual things for us and our sites, and that she will want to do those things, and that we will see her often. My even bigger hope is that nothing stand between her and happiness and that everyone who appreciated her web presence feels the same way.
I hope I don't sound harsh because I honestly can relate to simply wanting to know if a disappeared-webwhore is still alive and kicking; it would be embarrassing if I told you how affected I've been by Olympia's (aka Postmodern Courtesan's) blog's disappearance. I emailed her two or three times since her blog has been down but haven't gotten any replies. I genuinely am a little worried that something unpleasant might have prompted its removal, but even if that's true, publicizing that unpleasantness would probably make a bad situation even worse. And if it's not true, and she just didn't want to keep it up or continue taking the risk of writing about escorting then it's still none of my business. I have to remind myself that I got a lot out of reading her blog, entirely as a free blessing, and that makes her LESS obligated (not more) to explain her absence to me or anyone else.
I was going to reflect more on the feeling of being "abandoned" by our favorite webwhores and the strangeness of that (which I can relate to, having felt it myself), but I think I'll save that for some other time.
Today Tucker and I got in a couple of photo shoots, took the dog for a walk, and I spent time in the chatroom. I got a lot of little tasks accomplished, and am now pretty exhausted since I didn't get enough sleep last night and I'm on the rag.
Breakfast in Bed Chat happening again tomorrow . . . see you there?
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.
SOME GIRLS LOOK GOOD SUCKING COCK . . . . . . other girls? Not so much.
While I edited a POV blowjob video (shot from Tucker's "point-of-view" looking down at me ) I was once again disappointed by how alien my face looks from that angle. Alien as in "different" because I don't ever look at myself from the scalp downwards, but also alien as in "of the giant forehead and great big eyes". Like the greys, you know what I mean? Since the camera is closer to my forehead than any other facial feature, of course that is what looks biggest. Next, eyes. And then my nose, which isn't tiny and doesn't really benefit from enlargement. On top of that, I have a heart shaped face so it just looks like I'm this giant upper-half of a face, with a miniature jaw. I frequently look bizarre, like a praying mantis. And when I'm really going down on the cock and have as much of it as I can in my mouth? I look like a sunken-cheeked crack whore.
But I'll stop complaining since, you know, it's still really hot. And I snagged a lot of stills from it that I actually love. And even my crooked teeth looked sexy to me, reminding me that the Japanese actually have some kind of a fetish for crooked teeth; I don't remember the term for it, but apparently they think it's really cute. Of course you can't really give too much credit to the Japanese aesthetic when they're the ones who freed and made a celebrity artiste out of Issei Sagawa, a guy who cannibalized a big strong creamy-skinned Dutch lady.
While it would be most entertaining for me to show you lots of samples of me looking like a pale bug-eyed martian, it's probably better for business if I show you some of my favorite cocksucking (well, licking, etc.) snags with only one image of my totally-distended face:
Anyway, not all people really prefer to see a "pretty" face sucking cock. Sure, there are lots who *do* hold the prettiest cocksuckers in high esteem, but there are others who think the stretched-out features of a sexy-ugly face deep in hungry concentration are the best. You might also be surprised at how many guys fetishize tongues and open, empty mouths; lots of guys will specifically request (in porn and camshows) that you pose for them with your mouth open wide and your tongue sticking out. They will jack off to you just rolling your tongue out and laying it as flat as you can for them to imagine shooting their loads. This can be a difficult pose to maintain for more than a minute, but it really does the trick for some people.
But back to the most important topics at hand: me and my vanity! When I see my wrinkled forehead in photos and videos it REALLY makes me want an injection of botox more than a gloppy load of cum on my tongue.
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!
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.
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.
On Tuesday we shot a hot POV (point of view) blowjob video culminating in many jets of spooge being shot in the air right in front of my face and tongue. To make it a GOOD video, we made sure the BJ lasted a nice long while (fifteen or twenty minutes?). By the time Tucker came, I was so wet and so excited from playing with his cock I wondered why we don't shoot videos like that more often.
There's only one reason we don't shoot more hardcore: because we're lazy. Oh, I sometimes beg out of it using the excuse that I want our sex to be natural and not staged for the camera with a bunch of lights shining on us because that detracts from the fun of having real sex, but that's a lie because I've enjoyed every single sex scene we've shot. Sure, it's a nuisance setting up the lights and your range of motion becomes limited and there are professional considerations to make and a certain amount of self-consciousness to contend with, but overall they usually wind up being a pretty good time.
It's true that making porn and doing camshows can often drain us of recreational sexual energy, but sometimes it actually amps up our sex drives. I almost hate to admit it, but being semi-obligated and professionally-motivated to shoot hardcore porn for our members is a really good thing for our relationship, especially at this point. THIS point, where we've been living together, 99% monogamous, for over four years and fucking each other (almost exclusively) for five.
We have always had great sex since the very beginning -- really steamy stuff. As the years have progressed we've perfected sex to something that requires really minimal effort and has lost some of its old creative ambition. For example, I hardly ever give him head even though I love having his cock in my mouth -- it's just not efficient though since I, well -- since I sort of like having quickies and I orgasm quickly by riding him. Over the years we've started defaulting to the most-efficient position and haven't been talking as dirty to each other. The sex is still great, it's just not as varied or all-consuming as it used to be on a regular basis.
I shudder to think how our sex would decline and grow even more stale if we weren't motivated by porn to liven things up every so often and remind ourselves how gratifying an episode of oral sex with the lights on can be.
We are not so different from all the other couples out there with regular jobs and regular lives. I mean, everything about us is regular except that we have porn sites. Sometimes guys say how much they wish their wives were like me and I remind them that I am not as different from their wives as they imagine me to be -- the only difference is that I get PAID to be sexy. Maybe if their wives were paid to have sex on camera and could justify spending money on the lingerie and shoes I buy then they would be just like I am.
Even with all of the motivation and freedom I have to lead a hypersexual super-stimulating life, "regularity" has set in for us, too. It's not a complaint, it's natural -- when things are perfect and cozy and wonderful you get lazy and complacent and take everything for granted. Sometimes you have to remember that keeping a relationship vital and exciting IS WORK. We are lucky that our relationships (to each other and to ourselves) IS our work, our sole source of income, and it forces us to spice things up in ways that I think we'd probably neglect even more if we had normal jobs.
Food and television encourage us to spend so much time not looking at each other and getting pleasure from stuffing our faces it really does take a concerted effort to get turned on when we are so used to each other. It's not like the old days where we only had one day a week with each other to get all fucked-out with each other's still-unfamiliar bodies. Shooting porn and scheduling sex can actually be a blessed exercise in looking at each other from fresh angles and reminding ourselves that we *are* sexy (to each other and to ourselves) and there is a whole audience of people eager to masturbate to whatever we produce and they aren't tired of us yet. I don't want to make it sound like Tucker "bores" me now that we've been together for a handful of years; that's not what I'm saying (though I do think it's really natural for people to be less-easily aroused by long-term partners the longer long-term they are; let's be realistic AND let's not forget I've put on a few pounds -- I do think it makes a difference, at least to me -- or forget to consider poor Tucker who endures my toxic gaseous emissions on a daily basis). I adore Tucker and love him more and more all the time and I still never stop being amazed at how gorgeous and beautiful he is. I think as your love for someone expands and deepens, the sexual part of that love becomes a relatively smaller, less-obvious factor and hey -- I'd be a liar if I pretended we don't have a couple of "issues" we both need to work on; things do pop up in long-term relationships that need some attention and distract you from 24/7 fuck marathons.
A couple of hours after we shot that video we wound up fucking; I was still wet from the excitement of giving him head. We did it with the lights off but people could still hear us on our spycams. We did it the same way we always do but somehow it was more exciting and charged up just because we stepped out of our routine earlier that day to make some blowjob porn.
I hesitate to post this entry because it feels almost too-private and too-easily misunderstood, but I think it's a good reality check for non-porn people to realize that we are not insatiable nymphomaniacs; we actually struggle with many of the same challenges other couples deal with and people should be wary of the temptation to judge or criticize their own relationships or partners by comparing them to people who are entertainers, especially if the entertainment they offer is pornography. It's not a fair comparison if all you're looking at is the pretty pictures, hour-long shows, and little video clips.
I should also emphasize that I don't think a relationship is going down the toilet just because there's less sex in it than there was in the beginning, or even if you go through dry spells. I'm also not here to judge people who don't really care about sex all that much and have based their relationships (or solitude) on de-emphasizing sex. I just usually like life a lot more when I'm getting laid regularly and am just reminding myself and other people that sometimes you have to make a conscious EFFORT to put on your sex-hat.
Shit -- I should also clarify that working on a relationship means more than working on the SEX part of a relationship. I'm pretty sure that working on the other parts usually indirectly lead to more and better sex, but anyway -- I was supposed to be writing a "sexy" blog entry, not a therapeutic cuddlefest for couples. Leave it to me to make even a simple sex entry into a huge brain dump full of caveats.
I've got a thing for girls and bubblegum . . . and boobs. Anyone sharing my appreciation of these elements will probably enjoy the gallery and video we shot today. Above is my favorite photo, one I loved so much that I have two versions of it in the gallery: one portrait and one landscape because I love looking at the bumps and colors and angel-in-need-of-bubblegum-oxygen-mask. And the way that my mouth looks SO much like a pussy (do you see that broken hymen up there?) and the gum splatters sometimes look like *another* layer of pussy and/or remind you of cum splatters, but yummy watermelon-flavored cum and sticky pink messes. I like things that *remind* me of sex and genitals but aren't. And I love the silliness and tacky-bored attitude gum-chewing and bubble-blowing convey.
Sometimes when we shoot stuff it's because we have to shoot *something* and it is kind of a bore; other times I really love what we're doing and the finished product. This bubblegum stuff is something I *love* that's fun and provocative (to me).
The video is not nearly as "sweet" -- there is some crazy-ass natural-titty action in it with my boobs flopping and whirling and swinging and swaying . . . all while I chomp on gum and try to blow bubbles as I'm getting fucked by Tucker. Good stuff.
I'm ready for bed - my morning started out with a tragic nightmare regarding my sister's health and pregnancy; I woke up on the verge of tears which really cast a nasty pall over the first part of my day.
Things did improve; I got some work done and we managed to get to one of the few local showings of Kinky Boots. It was a totally old-fashioned story and I loved almost everything about it . . . everything except that Lola didn't get the girl (when the two of them danced it was ELECTRIC), instead taking the usual friendly-freak role by being the facilitator of romance rather than its recipient. It was nice to see a guy in good drag on the big screen with a mostly unmitigated masculine voice. I'm also a huge sucker for "saving dad's factory through resourcefulness and the inspiring intervention of an unlikely hero" stories (Mousehunt comes to mind). I blame Mr. Rogers' Picture-Picture (and the opening sequence of Laverne and Shirley) for my abiding love of scenes shot in factories -- I *love* anything with yellowed conveyor belts and special machines tooled to do special things. LOVE it. I could watch that shit for hours. I wonder if there's a DVD collection of Picture-Picture does Factories . . . if there's not, there should be.
Honestly though, I love stories about entrepreneurs, small businesses, or people leaving the safety of society to take up an adventurous career. People on the brink of losing everything, barely making it, struggling to stay alive but still refusing to do something more conventional. It's probably what drew me to stories of streetwalkers and other whores as a teenager and I just didn't CARE that they were cautionary tales, what I cared about is that they seemed to be independent and on any day they could make $10 or $1000 while having to dodge all sorts of obstacles and dangers. I like anything where people are making a living by their own rules and their own schedule, or are flouting conventional wisdom. Another whore-like story that appeals to me is the type found in The Tattooed Man -- I love the whole, "I'm going to make money and have adventure on the high seas!" thing. It's just good old American-dream boot-strap stuff with a little more of an unsafe fringe element that appeals to me. It's what I like about hard-boiled detective stories - they so often are barely eeking out a living, but THEY LIVE BY THEIR OWN RULES dammit. They are always just teetering on the brink. I love the tension and the uncertainty of that kind of lifestyle, so much so that I've established a similar existence for myself.
There is a thrill of uncertainty and danger as a webwhore that feeds on itself in an addictive way. It really is a gamble from both a financial and legal perspective, and the payoffs come in unpredictable ways. On the one hand, you have nearly-unlimited potential, but on a day-to-day basis a lot of times (at the stage I'm at now and have been for years) it really seems like the luck of the draw when it comes to how much money you pocket. It's quite possible that I like teetering on the edge so much and living the fantasy life of the scrappy entrepreneur just barely making a living that I probably hold myself back because it's just feels more fun and romantic this way than it would to have financial security. I love not knowing what will happen next, but feeling that a breakthrough could be just around the corner . . .
We're leaving this afternoon for a two night shooting spree in a local hotel. Sadly, it's not wired for internet access, so you won't be seeing much excitement on our cams for the next couple of days. Maybe you'll catch the dog doing something interesting or spot us checking on her or our email during frequent trips home to let her go pee, etc.
I hope to write more pithy blog entries upon our return now that I am completely saturated with television. I had a nasty dream about Flava Flav last night involving his teeth which were actually three elaborate sets of dentures. Everyone was playing basketball at some rapper's house when Flav decided to show me his teeth since I accidentally pitched a ball at his face, potentially harming his "teeth".
The first row was an intimidating row of predatorial metal jaws which he was able to lift out to reveal a startling inch-thick set of thick white falsies (sort of like game tiles or white dominos). Upon removal of the white ones there was a hideous rotten brown forest of brown stumps and decay like wet cardboard.
Watching MTV (and most specifically MTV Cribs) brought this sordid nightmare upon me and I think I need to pull myself away from the tube if I'm to avoid my brain being invaded by these grotesque visions. So. More good blogging, less tv-watching.
I just uploaded a couple of embarrassing updates to my members-only area. One of them being a non-pornographic only SLIGHTLY risque gallery featuring my massage therapist and I. The less porn-intentioned something is, the more intimate it seems to be, and the better it lends itself to naughty real-life sorts of fantasies. I really love the photos Tucker took, the colors, the light and my freckled pink skin.
Speaking of massages, Tucker and I exchanged some last night and then he gave me a really good handjob and we had really yummy sex. Then we turned on American Psycho and I fell asleep to the sounds of Patrick Bateman's anxiety.
I had to wake up early to do some work that had to be done (selecting photos for promotional purposes takes me A VERY LONG TIME -- wading through tons of pictures trying to find the perfect ones to best represent you, second-guessing everything, wondering if it really will fit their layout or needs, etc.) so I lost some sleep and had to take a nap later. I wound up having some intense sex dreams and orgasms -- my clit was SO engorged it was blue-tinged and much larger than usual. I strummed it furiously, and also bent over to lick and kiss it (oh the sweetness of defying physical limitations in dreams). One of my stepbrothers was also involved; I was lucid enough to somewhat guiltlessly indulge in the taboo and enjoyed the hell out of it. Needless to say, my pussy was really wet when I woke up.
Tomorrow (Tuesday) we'll be moving all of our cams and computers to the new house, so they (the cams) will be down while I'm waiting for the cable guy. I hope the transition will be smooth and nearly-seamless for our members, but chances are there could be some hangups. I anticipate it will take a month to establish most of the cams in their perfect new locations and get new cables, mics and other equipment as the situation demands. The new computer won't come until next week so we may be short two or three cams in the meantime since we won't have the reach we have here; with one computer on one side of this house, and one on the other, we can stretch into pretty much every room. In the new house both of our computers will be in one corner of the house, with living and sleeping spaces in extreme other corners so we'll need to have more stations to cover it all.
I know that's totally boring information, but I hate it when some people don't understand that there are logistical issues to consider with the whole spycam setup. All I really want people to know is that it's more complicated than some people imagine and I'm sensitive, have performance anxiety and I *so* desire to do a good job that it just makes me very uptight when some people think I'm not doing all I can to give *the best* far-reaching coverage of our home. I become very insecure and overwhelmed during moving-stress because I'm essentially USELESS during the process and feel completely incompetent. Thanks for your patience. Tucker is taking care of it/me and I will be back to semi-normal soon.
OPEN ME UP??? Well, another week, another members' update published. This time there's a new link to KSex Radio's live shows which were just added to the Camz network, and almost a half hour of video from the show Tucker and I did on Christmas day which most people didn't get to see.
My favorite part of the show is when someone in the chatroom commanded Tucker to "open her up", to which I responded, "open me up? What do I look like, a fucking can of spaghettios?"
Someday I'd love to do a video compilation of me reaming people out, but I'm not sure I could afford the bandwidth for such a gigantic movie. It would be great fun for a dvd, whenever I learn how to make one of those and have the proper hardware and software.
During the same show, I wore one of my favorite pairs of underwear: white cotton brief panties edged with red lace and a tiny red satin bow. Some guy in the chatroom named "Camron" kept remarking on them, suggesting, "you should invest in a thong" and "need to lose the granny panties". If I had time to properly school him, I'd have let him know the following:
#1) I only change my attire for people who pay me by the minute to field their personal requests.
#2) If I am wearing a certain pair of panties during a show, chances are it's because I like them and find them sexy myself which means that if he isn't paying me by the minute, I couldn't care less what his personal preference is, because mine is all that matters.
#3) INVEST in a thong? As though because during one hour of one day of one week of one month I am wearing one pair of underwear, it must mean I do not posess any others; very stupid assumption.
#4) Let's pretend I don't own a thong: if there is an article of clothing I do not own but someone wants me to wear, the appropriate thing to do is to ask for my mailing address so he can send me whatever it is.
#5) Anyone who doesn't appreciate the appeal of modest white cotton panties probably will not appreciate me, my site, my shows, or most of what I have to offer. White cotton panties rock my fucking world. I'm sure there are people I have much in common with who could care less about white cotton panties, but anyone who would ADVERTISE that while I'm wearing them, stupidly assuming I could only be wearing them out of a lack of options or ignorance regarding what is "sexy", is himself mentally incompetent and has really really really bad taste.
Speaking of shows, I have one tomorrow (Tuesday). 1 pm Pacific Time. After that I'll be webwhoring for a couple of hours, then Tucker has a show at 5 pm. If you come in, don't joke about my panties, because I won't get it and will just sigh with the exhaustion of a bored whore who has put up with entirely too much bullshit, and you'll be tempted to point out what a humourless bitch I am.
I'm not sure if that sounds bitter, so let me just say I really like the whore I've grown into and somehow my cranky, fatigued whore routine is more entertaining to lots of people then the boringly spritely, over-enthusiastic, and fakey whore routine other camgirls have going on.
HOME AGAIN We're back home after two nights at my mom's shooting pictures. I packed a bunch of different outfits and wound up only using two of them and borrowing something of Tucker's for a third set. Surprisingly, the ensembles I most looked forward to wearing didn't even come out of the suitcase, and the trashy little number I thought I WOULDN'T use wound up being my favorite:
Full Gallery appearing in my Members-Only area with Monday 11/22 update. JOIN NOW for access to ALL of my pics (full size) & vids!
Lace gloves? A hanky-like tube-top? And that ridiculous pairing of platform heels with little white lace-trimmed anklets . . . jesus christ. But I felt like such a cute hot slut wearing it. Like the hottest piece of ass in the trailer park. I actually had fun doing those pictures.
I'm so glad to be back home. My mom has three cats (which I'm allergic to) so I have a big benadryl hangover now with remnants of allergy attack; my mouth is dry and yucky, there's a wheezing tickle in my lungs, and it feels like a hard lozenge of bloody mucous is lodged in the back of my throat.
Suddenly my computer and internet connection speed have slowed to a painful trickle like they're constricted by a swollen prostate gland. Sigh.
Full Gallery appearing in my Members-Only area with Monday 11/8 update. JOIN NOW for access to ALL of my pics (full size) & vids!
Actually I guess it's hard to see those long, soft, downy brown hairs that adorn my asscrack unless you actually join my site for the high-res views.
Part of me feels compelled to stop publishing explicit nudes (like the one above) in free areas of my websites. But MOST of me feels compelled to keep it out there, mostly because I DO NOT THINK IT IS OBSCENE or damaging for anyone to see it. If you're a long time reader you may remember that I have very little concern for respecting people's "work safe" boundaries because if it's okay for an employee to be wasting time reading blogs, it should be okay to see my hairy fucking crack (my point being that it's WASTING TIME at work that should be the issue, not HOW you're wasting it).
Another reason I resist posting only censored or non-nude stuff in my free areas is that when I look at one picture at a time, I don't necessarily see them as pornographic. Even that picture of the guy licking his own cockhead. Frankly, they all have more redeeming and artistic value than most of the images I see in mainstream media.
Don't get me wrong, I do not have an entirely liberal view of what should be broadcast on tv and on the airwaves. I actually have very conservative standards for what should be seen and heard on tv: I for one thought the WHOLE infamous Janet Jackson superbowl display was obscenely inappropriate and the nipple expose was just the frosting on the inappropriate cake. There are standards on television that we have grown up with and they deliberately chose to flout those standards. It's not that I think the sight of a bare breast is "damaging" to children (or anybody); I don't. The preceding Kid Rock song was inappropriate and I just think it's unacceptable for people to choreograph a dance with a theme of sexual victimization and forced exposure, then bare a breast, all with the knowledge of a) the accepted standards on television which do not permit nudity, and b) the mid-day family audience viewing the superbowl. My problem is not with breasts, it's with the flagrant disregard for accepted standards and the audience of families. It wasn't just a titty, it was the context and the WAY it was exposed (ripping off her clothes in a rape-like scenario).
The other day we watched the third season finale of Alias (warning: spoiler ahead). I've enjoyed the show a ton in spite of the fact that almost all of the women in the series play the role of the stereotypical deceptive, traitorous, duplicitous Eve but with this finale, I fucking lost it. Vaughan, the male love interest and one of the main protagonists in the series, is advised by Jack (another prominent male protagonist) to KILL HIS WIFE to "get closure" after it turns out she's a double agent for the bad guys. Vaughan takes Jack's advise, hunts down his wife, hangs her by her wrists in a warehouse where she begs, cries, and pleads for her life, while he details his plans to "erase" her with hydrochloric acid.
This is a show on network television, okay? I think they have it rated PG-14 or some wacky tv thing like that. There are a lot of things on the show I object to (the characterization of women, the preoccupation with marital fidelity/monogamy, etc.) and it's EXCESSIVELY violent (a torture scene in practically every episode) but hey, I've enjoyed the hell out of it anyway but this just took it WAY too far. For me, the episode I'm talking about above was more offensive to me than porn, even humiliation porn. If it's okay for a 14 year old to watch that scene, frankly I don't know how anyone can bitch about the same kid seeing a plumbing shot on the web.
I guess what it boils down to is that I recognize there are (and should be) different standards for television and the internet, as there are different standards for mainstream entertainment and porn. There are different expectations for what you will encounter, there are different levels of belief and disbelief that viewers or surfers bring to the experience, and there are different tools for tailoring your experience to your own comfort level. What *I* see is that television and radio trespass on people's expectations and mow over standards of decency much more often than the internet does. Maybe I'm getting too abstract for anyone to follow me now and too tired to make a persuasive argument for my opinions so I'll just leave it at that; my opinion is that my and my boyfriend's naked bods on the internet are appropriate as presented, while much of what I see in mainstream media is dangerously INappropriate. That reminds me, did anyone see that Dianne Sawyer (sp) special on women in prison??? Talk about pornography!!! Talk about exploitation!!! Sheesh!! Oh, I did love every minute of it, but as long as a little warning after the commercial break about "graphic language ahead" is sufficient on television (which does NOTHING to warn people who are channel surfing), then I think my sites' warnings are sufficient (although I'll soon be labelling all of them to insure people using filters will never see them if they don't want to).
Again, maybe my problem is just that I am too old (see Justin Timberlake entry from earlier today) and am applying my old-fashioned standards to the media. Not sure.
BEATING MY BUTTON The past couple of days I've been inordinately horny, maybe because I'm ovulating but more likely because of this:
I've had countless -- fucking COUNTLESS -- strangers ask me to entertain them in various chatrooms with descriptions of what turns me on. "What turns you on baby?" "What do you like sexually?" This is their version of sexual equity and feigning interest in my pleasure and needs. I try to empathize with them as they have never been on the receiving end of such a repetitive, ceaseless hammering of questions. Sometimes I tell them they can find some of that information by reading my journal, checking out my site, or paying for a private phone call or video show with me. Blah blah blah. Other times I tell them the truth and I do so with a vengeance: "I like guy-on-guy action, macho buddies jacking off with each other, guys who will fuck anything and everything from couch cushions to blowup dolls to pvc pipes to microwaved liver. I like easily-dominated big dumb mouth-breathing hulks of guys who stand around drooling with their mouths open. I like guys who can suck their own cocks or at least give it a desperate yearning neck-breaking attempt." Of course, I also like women with hispanic accents, but I don't tell them that part. Anyway, they usually shuttup after that, or try to prompt me towards a direction they find more palatable, "but don't you also like licking your girlfriends' bald pussies?" Snort. Not as much as I'd like to walk in on a guy doing a little up and over dousing his own face with spunk.
Wil Wheaton (of Stand By Me and Star Trek fame) says he never gets tired of answering the same old questions from fans "because even if it's the thousandth time I've been asked a question, it's the first time the person asking it has ever heard the answer." Well folks that's commendable, but I am no Wil Wheaton. I get bored. Quickly.
Dishing out canned answers to every Tom, Dick and Hairy Dick that comes into my chatroom makes me feel like a cafeteria whore slapping green jello with bananas onto an assembly line of anonymous brown lunchroom trays. Oh boy -- look at it jiggle!! But it's so cold and jello green is so not a sexy color. :(
Part of the allure of logging, photographing, and sharing so much stuff on my websites is this delusion I have that once I say something . . . I'll never have to say it again because it's already out there, somewhere, even though I can't remember saying it or where it is and certainly no one ELSE could remember it, but no matter . . . it's my delusion and I'm sticking to it. Another way this delusion operates: I have a few pictures where I look pretty damned good and deep down I feel like . . . okay, I've got the proof that I've looked sexy once or twice, I feel great about it, now where's my flannel robe, the potato chips and is there really a reason why I should brush my hair ever again? Let Tucker be the sexy one in our duo, I much prefer the role of the fat bastard pimp.
But I digress. What I really meant to say was that I've been horny as hell the past couple of days because of a self-sucking site I found. If you want to read more from me about it, check here.
Oh, and tomorrow is my show day, so check here for the times. I won't be doing a tubtime and chat beforehand this time around, but I do have a couple other chats scheduled this week that I hope will be fun for all concerned, so don't be afraid of dragonlady webwhore . . . just be prepared to contribute more to the conversation than predictabe questions.
I started out the day feeling cute but bitchy. I'm ending the day feeling ugly and bitchy . . . but more sure of who I am.
After my second photo shoot with Tommy Edwards I am positive that a) I do not take very good pictures unless I can see myself in a mirror, b) my tits have seen better days, and c) my face is not meant to be passive and . . . passive. And I'm fucking glad. I look horrible trying to look like a still life. I am not a model, I am not a bowl of fruit. I am just a regular average almost-thirty year old woman and the *good* pictures of me are something intimate because . . . well, they're rare.
Or maybe I just need to make sure someone who knows and loves me photographs me . . . how is it that out of the 203 pictures houseboy shot of me a couple weeks ago, 172 of them turned out to be beautiful, but out of the 255 pictures a professional took today, only about 50 look halfway decent?? The trouble is, Tommy keeps putting my worried-forehead double-chinned face into the most unflattering positions (with chin tucked down and eyes projected in gazes that I think he aims to be "smoldering"). I look like the waggly-jowled title character in "Throw Momma From the Train". I shit you not. Tommy is truly skilled and a master of working with light -- I am just not a good "model".
Other notes of the day: I missed the ferry going over by a mere four minutes and then spent 40 minutes in the passenger loading area watching a spindly-legged crab being eaten alive by a sharp-beaked seagull. I also observed two teenage girls exhibiting the hallmarks of vain feminine stupidity in the form of inappropriate dress for the season. It's fucking February chickies: put on a motherfucking coat over your midriff-baring t-shirt and please DON'T expose your feet to the cold puddles by wearing platform thongs, you nitwit embarrassments to our gender!
On the ferry ride home a good-old-boy type sat down by me and asked if I was antisocial. To boil down a 30 minute conversation into bloggable format, I eventually decided to disclose to him what I do for a living and handed him my card. I could write a short book about the conversation, but let me instead just share with you the question he asked me with genuine curious ignorance as opposed to a deliberate urge to be offensive and insulting, "so do you think you have any ethics or morals or standards??"
What I should have said (but didn't): No. I don't. In fact I could, without remorse, happily knife you in the face and then proceed to disembowel you for displeasing me with your idiocy. And then I would proceed to take video shots of me sodomizing you with my fist.
What I did say: Yeah. Yeah I *do* have morals and ethics and values -- I have a very strong work ethic and believe I provide a service to people while also challenging stereotypes people have of women and people in the sex industry. For example, the stereotype that you obviously have. Would you have asked someone in another industry (like the timber industry) that same question? I don't think so.
Anyway, I proceeded to my car only to find out that in my haste to be late to the ferry this morning, I left my lights on. Perfect. Just like a dumbass woman I called my boyfriend to come and get me instead of HELLO calling AAA to jumpstart my car. Fortunately houseboy had the sense to ask me "don't you have triple A?" instead of him driving two hours round trip just to give my car a jump and having us both waste gas driving home in separate cars. It was odd and eye-opening that I acted so helpless.
Good thing I have values and morals and ethics or I would make a terribly helpless eviscerater of men. I can see it now, "honey -- this guy made me mad and I have PMS so I want to kill him . . . could you come quick?"
SLEEPY GOOD I can't think straight right now -- can't decide what things to write about and what things to leave out, what things to do and what things to wait on. So I'll just give you a picture and let you know that the day the picture was taken (yesterday) was one of the horniest I've ever experienced.
Houseboy and I had a frustrating experience the night before with me trying to take pictures of him but initially failing due to my disappointment with myself in not even understanding my own stupid camera. I really wanted to take pictures of him in his spectacles but the fucking lights were reflecting off of them and without the lights shining on him everything was too dark. Anyway, enough of the frustrating part. He kept his good humour and pretty much made it impossible for me to just quit and go to bed . . . so we wound up with a pretty good set of pictures of him and . . . even sexier I got to videotape him jacking off. I cannot even describe how much of a dream come true this is, just getting to watch a guy jack off in real life and not be allowed to do anything about it. Since houseboy's site will be friendly for all audiences (male or female), there's no need to throw me in the mix every single time -- he needs some sexy solo content. Anyway, then yesterday houseboy took pics of me (see above) and I took pics of him . . . and another video. I almost wept from being so excited standing behind the camera while he jacked off. OH god yum. What a perfect tease!!
I absolutely love being the voyeur instead of the performer/participant/exhibitionist. And it's not just because I do it all the time for work . . . it's because the role of voyeur comes much more naturally to me than the role of exhibitionist. Most of my seemingly exhibitionistic behaviors are rooted more in my imaginings of what someone would be feeling by voyeuring me.
One of the most fascinating things happened when houseboy and I were looking through the pictures I took of him . . . looking at beautiful image after beautiful image of him on the monitor somehow he became somebody distant and celebrity-like. Staring at his still smiling/pouting/flirting sultry images I just absolutely marveled at his perfection . . . and I thought about how hysterically women will idolize beautiful sexy men (like Elvis and Tom Jones). I have always been fascinated by that panty-throwing/fainting/screaming phenomenon. I don't know if men are capable of that kind of senseless maddening worship the way women are. Part of it is arousal, sure, but it's much more all-being-encompassing than simple sexual arousal. It's like your mind, body and spirit are completely driven by intense brainwashed excitement. I seriously felt myself approaching that kind of hysteria with him yesterday . . . staring at the computer houseboy pictures for so long then finally turning around and looking at the real houseboy standing before me, SO gorgeous I tried to explain "it" (this wacky celebrity worship thing) to him . . . and just as I was reaching for the words he took a step towards me and was almost touching me and I truly felt my guts dropping and my entire face lighting up as though STAR STRUCK . . . ohmygodohmygod it's really him!!!!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!(insert hair pulling face squishing jumping up and down wetting pants screaming)AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! He's going to touch me oh my god it's HIM!!!!!! I didn't know whether to jump into his arms or take a step back!! It was the wackiest feeling! Silly and totally ridiculous, but I felt it anyway.
Anyway, if you want to see just one of the tame pictures of my the "object" of my hysteria, I think that houseboy is publishing one in his journal momentarily.
Sometimes I wonder how much time other amateurs spend putting together galleries for their updates. I suspect that I waste more time than most doing very silly things that other people automate. For example, I relish picking out a font for my domain name that will fit the mood of the photos. Then I waste a bunch of time placing my domain name image onto an appropriate spot on the photo that won't cover anything up. I enjoy seeing the way the colors and the shadows and everything compliment each other. It's ridiculous how much time I spend on these little tasks. But I like it.
Another thing I wonder about is the interplay between vanity, porn standards, market demand, individual fetishes, reality, legacy-building and "art". I find myself sorting through hundreds of pictures of myself trying to pick through them and create an enjoyable gallery for members. It's HARD though. All of these conflicting demands vie for my attention. First of all, I myself have a short attention span so I don't really like looking at galleries of more than 25-30 pictures. I find it very repetitive and boring and wind up really not relishing a few really sexy images -- it's almost as though as soon as I see allllllllllllllll those pictures I find myself aware of the clock and that I need to hurry up and scroll through them. Perhaps this is just a function of my femininity though? Maybe guys don't think that way. Plus most people in the internet porn industry slap together huge galleries of 75 or more pictures. But then again, lots of those galleries are built around girls who are flawless looking. Frankly I wind up with a very mixed bag of content. I have a few really flattering images (a VERY few), a lot of pictures that cater to individual fetishes (hairy, freckles, natural tits, etc.) that a lot of people withOUT those fetishes don't really find appealing, and a lot of images that are artistically interesting but antierotic.
When I look at pictures like the one above I'm just not sure what to do with it. It certainly doesn't depict me at my aesthetic BEST (see the chin fat, the exhausted expression, etc.) but it's an appealing image. I think it would be more appealing to me if I were looking at a stranger though instead of myself. And then there's the problem of it being on a "porn" site. Well . . . I don't really think most of the stuff in my members area is "porn". Although I love the porn title and feel it's important to commit myself to challenging the stereotypes associated with the word (and the only way to do that is to call what I do "porn") . . . really a lot of what I love making most is stuff that you would find shoved into a library book and accidentally left there. Seriously, that's what I imagine most of the words and images on my site are really meant for . . . to be discovered with no explanation and no context. Just intimate photographs and jotted notes for someone to discover and wonder about, unable to decide if the women they're looking at are ugly or beautiful, average or exotic, rare or commonplace, passive or aggressive. Unable to do more than imagine what the circumstances were surrounding the taking of the pictures or their lives in general.
I'd love to make a site (or *something*) like that and have fantasized about it before . . . something the captures the trespass of finding something that wasn't meant for you but that you long to keep and wish you understood better. The kind of thing you want to stick under your mattress or save in a shoebox. The only hard part about doing a site like that is that with guest content I wouldn't be able to give credit back to the models without destroying the mystery of the whole thing. MMmm. . . or maybe not. Maybe there could be little "unveil the mystery" links. And of course I could always pursue photography more and then I wouldn't be under any obligation to give the models any credit at all. Sigh. One of a million unpursued ideas I have . . .
Speaking of doing more photography, I put an ad in the local paper for naughty people to pose for me. And I have fantasized about approaching young girls like an old rotten-toothed pervert. My sister and I were in McDonalds a few weeks ago and the girl behind the counter was fucking angelic. She was plump and had the sweetest face. So far I haven't seen any barely-legal chubby girl sites (although I'm sure they're out there) -- the teen sites always seem to focus on the skinny underdeveloped set. But seriously, the baby fat look is just as provocative and sexy, I think. Anyway, I wondered if there was a way I could give this girl my card without totally scaring the shit out of her and having the law on my ass.
Anyway, back to my competing demands when putting together content for my site; somehow I feel like honoring those competing demands in a very inconsistent way that is my "special purpose" or comprises the personal "legacy" I am supposed to be building with my life. Although I feel conflicted about it sometimes and hypercritical of it, I LIKE that what I do is a mixed bag of all kinds of stuff: the thoughtful and the careless, the priceless and the cheap, the mainstream and the marginalized, the captivating and the repulsive, the dirty and the sweet, the pretty and the unpleasant, the hard and the soft, the forced and the natural, blah blah blah.
I don't think that most people understand that when a girl has pictures made of herself . . . it's not porn, it's immortality. It's the fountain of youth. It's enduring proof that she's a sex object in hard copy just like a girl in a magazine or Jesus's words in a red letter edition of the bible.
DOWNSTAIRS It's really odd . . . houseboy is downstairs learning Premiere (Adobe video editing software) on the laptop while I'm upstairs working on galleries. We've exchanged a few emails this way (yes, we're in the same fucking house and we're emailing each other) and I find myself really enjoying it. I like being close but a little removed. Communicating without speaking.
Hahahaha! He just sent me an email telling me to quit slouching (he is checking on me on the spycams). Hehehe.
Thanks to my cool, encouraging fellow chathost FuzzyBunny, you're going to have an opportunity to read this blog, an irregularly kept journal detailing some of the pertinent details in the life of a VCH (video chathost).
SCARY BUT TRUE!: I like chathosting so much I requested a two month leave of absence from my real "work". I have been there over five years and am BORED. I need to do something wild . . . bohemian. . . scandalous. So I've got two months to see if I can support myself (pay for health care, taxes, etc. . . ) by "working" on iFriends. If I can make enough money chathosting (and other related ventures), I will quit my job. If I can't, I'll go back to the mundane uncreative life of a middle-manager in a manufacturing environment. Blech! If that happens I will probably not continue chathosting but will devote myself to pursuing an MBA and climbing up the corporate ladder. Oh well, at least I will have something fun to talk about at my 10 year class reunion which will be rearing its ugly head in a matter of months.
"So what did you end up doing with *YOUR* college education?" "Me? Well I juggle phone-sex with stroking my snatch in real-time on the internet!"
My goal is to make fed ex. Every week. (for those of you out-of-the-know, iFriends Fed-ex's our paychecks to us if we make a certain amount of money).
CONFESSION: this goal was not made completely for practical ecomonic purposes. Ahem. It's actually because the Fed-Ex boy is fucking gorgeous. I thought he was going to invite himself right into my apartment last time he came over. Hehehehe. He kept standing on his tiptoes and bobbing his head up and over to peer around me and try to see into my den of vice. "I love your beaded curtains!" Wet and weak-kneed, I wanted to croon back at him, "and I love your jaunty uniform, big boy!".
NIGHT PERSON: I love working at home. Mostly because I'm a night person and I can't *STAND* waking up early in the morning. . . when I have to wake up early NOTHING goes right! The timing is all wrong! For example, right after I take a shower I have to take a dump. I have no coordination in the morning either. Curling my hair with a hot iron is *disastrous*. It's like my nerve endings haven't warmed up yet so I end up with faux hickeys on my neck where I accidentally held the curling against my skin because I was too tired to hold my arm up that high for too long and I didn't have fast enough reaction time to get the fucker off my skin before it burned me.
Or maybe I'm just uncoordinated. I was standing naked in my bathroom curling my hair the other day (it wasn't morning so I can't use that not-a-morning-person defense) and just DROPPED the curling iron right onto my tit. Yelp!!! Now I have a lovely burn on my upper breast. Beautiful. But as long as my boob isn't blistered I guess it's okay. Not aesthetically pleasing, but okay . . .
LAPTOPS & COFFEE HOUSES: Designing a pornographic website while seated in a coffee shop can be . . . difficult, to say the least. And it can be downright humiliating if the nude hooters flashing on my monitor obviously belong to MOI!
Working from home can be somewhat . . . confining . . . and LONELY! So why not drag the laptop out for a caffeine fix and do some work while people watching? Well . . . the answer is simple . . . *I* ended up being the person of choice to watch. Despite my best attempts to be inconspicuous, the seating arrangement did not allow me to have my back to a wall with no possibilities of laptop spying from either side. So I chose to huddle down into a cushy chair with the monitor pointed, well . . . towards the street-side sidewalk-bordering picture window. I swear, I thought the angle would make it impossible for any of the people outside to gawk while I dragged my T&A around on the screen.
I was SO wrong!!! An Arquette-ish tall gent in a trench coat approached me and crouched down to cushy-chair eye-level to diplomatically begin telling me with a certain amount of halting discomfort, "I'm uhh . . . . not saying you have to *STOP*, but ummm. . . I'm the assistant manager here and well . . . you did seem to be *trying* to be ummm. . . well . . . discreet but ummm. . . we can see what you're doing from outside. And I just thought you might be more comfortable if ummm. . . you moved over ummmm. . . over to a different spot? I'm not saying you have to stop but I thought you'd want to know . . ."
After being branded the slut-with-bad-judement or a complete exhibitionistic pervert, I was a little defensive. So when my glance lingered later on a cute poet-like young man and he responded to my eye contact with a sweet compliment, I fairly roared back at him, "WHAT????!!!!!". Certain that he had wandered in from outside after getting an eyeful of my nudie pics, I felt sure he hadn't said what he re-stated, oh shit, "You have really nice eyes." Still defensive, I said "Oh!!! Well I thought you said I had a really nice ass!"
The poor guy was perplexed and no longer interested in my nice eyes and apparent lack of enculturation in the subtleties of coffeehouse come-ons. He put me right in my place, "No!. You're sitting down!" Obviously all he could see of my ass was that it was sunk into the cushy chair.