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.
I must've had my head up my ass when I worried that reserving a cabin for three nights was too LONG for a porn-shooting trip without running water or electricity or phones or internet of any kind. More like NOT LONG ENOUGH.
Being in the woods on the Olympic Peninsula, the proper WET woods southwest of us (unlike what we have here in the dry rainshadow), always feels like heaven to me. I'm not exaggerating: HEAVEN. Like what it would/should look and feel like if there were to be that kind of a fantasy afterlife (except I wouldn't have to be scared of having my scalp ripped off by a cougar in heaven, but I digress).
Anyway, it was great. FANTASTIC, the level of peace and tranquility I felt there. The lack of pressure and the way everything worked out just right. The way we had so much beautiful SPACE to sprawl out and shoot in with very little chance of intrusion. The way the weather couldn't have been more perfect. The way we walked for miles.
And when we got home? I pretty much instantly fell apart into a nervous wreck.
It's not that I think running off and living a "simple" life is the Answer to All My Problems or something I want on a daily basis (I don't), but experiencing it for a few days did highlight some of the things that I desperately need to fix in real life (like not having so MANY options and obligations every second of every day).
It's a small fix, but we're going to get rid of DirecTV completely and of course just keep plugging away on the usual stuff with a better reminder of what we could have if we got ahead, just a little bit: the freedom to fall behind and drop out more often . . . AND make better porn because of it. It's amazing how doing so much of my job every fucking day gets in the way of DOING MY JOB RIGHT.
Also, I have serious problems being distracted by every day life and PEOPLE and the noises they make and our computers and all of our shit, though, so coming home was like putting my head in a blender after all of that peace and quiet and fresh air. I know it sucks for voyeurs who want to watch a blissed-out horny woman rolling around in ecstasy or at least looking fresh and cute and bisected by cleavage but instead get me, frowning and muttering under my breath about how I'm going to shoot myself in the head if trivial problems and distractions interrupt my flow just one more fucking time. I am so sorry that has been the story of my lifecams for far too long.
Anyway, I would manually scratch all the skin off my left arm using the fingernails of my right if it would mean I could spend a third of my life in a cabin in the woods, peeing outside and eating pickled sausage on the back porch. Unfortunately I'll have to go about things the hard way: plodding forward, tiny steps at a time.
FYI: I'll try to post more about the magic of our little cabin experience. Also, I'm posting the rest of these pictures of me by the river on Monday for members. Delia is posting a set as I type this: see SAMPLE HERE - it is SO FUCKING AWESOME to be able to get almost any angle you want from whatever distance you want unconstrained by four walls.
Wondering why there's been a deathly quiet here on my blog? It's because I'm revamping in a major way and don't want to post here and then have to manually import into the REVAMP.
I hope you won't have to wait much longer; I've promised myself not to wait until it's *perfect* to unveil it (partly because that won't actually be possible; there are some things I can't fix until it goes live), especially since we'll be launching DeliaTS.com around the same time (the other reason why things are quiet here - we're juggling multiple "projects" which is typical, but they're feeling very urgent right now and sweet jesus I can't even type about it, trying to convey the enormity of pressure, without starting to hyperventilate).
As usual, tons of things I *want* to blog about (like how Conan will never be the same anymore and I can't stand his new set -- really IMPORTANT things that make me cry myself to sleep or keep me up all night lamenting the passage of time and inevitability of change). Of course I'm still updating inside with porn for our members, but we have GOT to get this other shit done. So you can look at pretty fun things! I know you're sick of hearing me bitch & moan about how outdated our sites are and wonder what is TAKING so long for us to just fix them already! I really wish I were skilled enough to snap my fingers and have it be done and over.
Anyway, we are going to be gone (much longer than I *want* to be gone) this week trying to shoot a bunch of porno in the woods so looks like it will be mid-September before you can see some of our work come to fruition. And actually be entertaining or mildly amusing or more absorbing than posts like this one.
Thanks for sticking with me, friends, foes and fans! I hope you will like our new site designs better than I like Conan's new set with all those light blue backgrounds with all those distracting LINES.
I just *know* what goes around, COMES around and for every time I've shrieked at the tv screen about that annoying frosted section of plexiglass behind Conesy's head or those flimsy-looking wooden borders around his super mario bros. screen with their annoying verticality and stick-ness, there will be ten people who HATE the way I'm changing up my site. It's not soothing! It's too busy! IT IS DIFFERENT, THEREFORE BAD! And holy shit, it's totally not sexy at all! Poetic justice for all. Or at least for Trixie. ON THE WAY!
Oh dear GOD! THE LINES ARE NOT STRAIGHT! The lines behind Conan are not straight! They are not running perpendicular to the bottom of the frame!! Oh, Jesus KILL ME -- those motherfucking lines are not straight, or if they are for a moment I know it only takes the slightest movement for everything to be out of alignment once again!! And that wooden base! IT'S TOTALLY NOT RUNNING PARALLEL TO THE BOTTOM OF THE FRAME! THE HORROR!!!!
Yes, the thoughts in my brain are TOTALLY FUCKING ANNOYING. And now you have some idea of why it takes me forever to finish anything that involves building things that are supposed to have straight lines. I can't abide things being out of whack in relation to each other, yet I'm not smart or talented or patient enough to bring them INto alignment.
And that, my friends, is why I often have to lock myself in a dark room and bury myself under mounds of pillows to calm down.
Seriously, though; all of those lines are REALLY ill-advised for shooting any kind of moving pictures. And while I can actually tolerate them if I try, it's impossible for me to actually RELAX with that mess of crookediness happening on the television screen.
Just checking in to say I'm alive with lots of fun, exciting things, and challenging stuff going on. Well, fun, exciting, and challenging TO ME. Most of it wouldn't translate into great blog reading, some of it I can't post in the kind of detail that makes it worth your time, and mostly I'm just trying to get some other stuff done.
I was going to post some pictures along with this to make it more interesting, but blogger doesn't want to let me. And I don't have extra time to do workarounds, so . . . later.
I know the blog still looks like crap and has a bunch of unfinished stuff. I have a new plan for attacking that, though, and am working on it now, along with 497 other things.
Note to people who've emailed me recently or in the past and haven't heard back yet: it's not you, it's me. FOR REAL. And you're not alone. It's just extremely rare for me to have the spare computer time and enough brain power to communicate coherently, even when it's something that seems (and maybe IS) really simple. Better people with bigger brains (and asses that don't fall asleep after sitting at the computer as many hours as I do) might be able to do it, but I'm not one of them. I have been known, however, to respond to email even when it's many years old, so I hope you don't plan on changing your email address.
*One of the webcam networks disconnected our access, but don't worry, you can still get in a couple of different ways to see Delia's show tonight. I will alter the page to tell members how. There are, however, a number of good reasons why my approach to dealing with that problem further are complicated. Not for you to worry about, even though blogging about it would make an interesting read -- I'll have to continue to bite my tongue for a few months or years longer.
*Ever since Twitter got attacked early yesterday, I haven't been able to tweet as TastyTrixie or SpyOnUs. Not via text/my phone, not on our main cable connection, and not on our DSL connection. For some reason, Delia's twitter account is working just fine, though. I *am* able to post tweets through blip.fm, though. I don't know what the fuck is going on, but it's driving me insane. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve to try to get it working, but honestly - there's a limit to how much time I can spend dealing with one fucking tribulation at a time.
*When I added more spycams, it broke some of them. The microphone on the NightVision cam (formerly known as "ballroom") is no longer reliably working, and my alternate method of connection to that cam using a different microphone also mysteriously died even after I tried reinstalling the software and other things. I guess the only solution at this point is to buy another microphone. In the meantime, you can still hear bedroom audio (though probably not as well) on the "MoreBed" and "BedroomDesk" cam. When they're not crapped out. Which they tend to be at inopportune times.
Anyway, little problems like that drive me batshit. I hate to admit how easily frustrated I get with those little unanticipated pinches of obstacality(?), but I do, especially when I'm in the middle of feeling bogged down and incompetent with larger projects (namely redesigning, like, all of our sites and most importantly helping get DeliaTS.com off the ground; I feel like it should be easy but all these design projects are just sucking out my life force). But of course as soon as I get through them, maybe we'll be a few steps closer to being able to HIRE people to do the parts of design we can't/don't want to do. At least, I pray to motherfucking god that will be the case.
I plan on enjoying a lovely and orgasmic show tonight, though, and I hope to make a new sexy show music mix to inspire me. See you there?
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.
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.
She describes herself as an "eco-feminist-pagan-hippie sex-worker chick currently residing in a Nudist Colony in the last redneck outpost of South Florida". Loosely translated, that means most of my blog readers will dig her for at least one reason, if not more. Plus, she's FUCKING GORGEOUS. Like, a totally striking knockout. She reminds me of Emmanuelle Seigner and a girl I went to high school with (I know that means nothing to you, but the reminder of my gorgeous German friend with her cheshire cat grin is lovely to me).
She's also a fellow Niteflirt/phone sex operator and I squealed when she set up an appointment to "consult" with me on different possibilities for setting up spycams. After I got off the phone with her I watched her free Masturbation Impossible video (wankers: you will not make it through the portions where she carefully wobbles down the stairs wearing her rollerblades and smiles mischievously - SUPER HOT).
Right now Libby Lynn's describing herself as an art student and porn cashier and it's just a MAJOR OVERSIGHT on my part, me not adding her to my blog links before this. I think I thought she was already in there. From her I get a depth and breadth of inspiration/relation(? if that's the right word)/variety that I don't get from most other blogs and online contacts.
I sort of don't know how to describe the connection I feel when I read her, but as far as you go in deciding whether or not to dig into her posts and flickr and twitter and stuff, I think she'll appeal to smart voyeuristic types who like meaty posts and porn and art or are working on the process of their own selves/work/art.
I also updated my link to Mia who is now blogging at MiavonDoom.com, my online buddy from way back and a multimedia POWERHOUSE.
I'm struggling under the weight of a lot of things right now. Nothing that should be debilitating, but the end result is that I've been acting almost completely disabled. Money problems, health problems, overwhelming-to-do-list problems, incompetency problems . . . you know, life.
The struggle on my mind right now is trying to figure out how much energy to expend on conservative friends and family who have issues with my work and/or with my partner being a transwoman. Not that they know that word. And I should be patient because how many people DO? It's not THEIR fault, right? And with me being in the kind of relationship where I even USE the term "my partner". My girlfriend. My not-a-man not-a-husband not-a-boyfriend.
My mom has been struggling with how to tell HER mom (my grandma) and her born-again-Christian-asshole brother (my uncle) so I haven't even seen my grandma in way over a year.
God, it makes me tired even trying to blog about this bullshit.
Now one of my step-brothers, the one I WANT to be in touch with a little, is coming out with his family for a visit next month. My mom visited them in Pennsylvania last year before the election and came back so disturbed by his wacko right-wingerism that she doesn't really even want to see them again (AND didn't even want to get into the basics of telling him anything about my controversial-to-them "lifestyle").
Delia's family in the Midwest still doesn't know about her transition. We had a plan for telling them that we cooked up with her therapist who said that ideally you shouldn't break the news in a letter, but face to face. We tried to get them to come out here last year so Delia would meet them at the airport presenting as a male (a concept that now seems totally ludicrous, uncomfortable and weird to me), she'd sit down with them and tell them all about it, the next day she'd present as a woman, and we'd all go see the therapist so they could learn about transgender. A nice idea, but there's no way to lure them out here when the REST of Delia's family is in the Midwest and her dad can't take time off work; it just makes more sense for us to visit them there.
So Delia's parents offered to buy us tickets to come out for a visit, like, RIGHT NOW. It would work out perfectly for the whole coming-out-face-to-face (except we wouldn't be able to take them to our counselor) BUT Delia already changed her name so in order for them to buy a ticket she could actually get on a plane with, she'd need them to know ahead of time her real femme name (or we'd have to buy the tickets ourselves which we can't afford to do right now). So after some soul-searching and discussion she decided to write a letter which she's still working on.
As the word "transition" implies, it's a process. And part of that process is . . . all of this bullshit of informing, educating, explaining, confronting, and dealing with loved ones and not-so-loved ones.
It made me feel sad when my mom said she doesn't know if she wants to see my brother / can't handle his fucked-up views. And I know it makes HER sad, too, but I feel like it will only be a few hours and it would be wrong to shut him out completely. I wouldn't say this about my other stepbrothers or about my ex-stepdad, but this brother? I would. So I wrote him and his wife an email about "my lifestyle" so they wouldn't be hit with surprises and wouldn't ask about my job in person if they aren't comfortable hearing me talk about what it really is (and told them, in short form, that I make adult websites). And the wheels are turning and they're paying lip service to not judging other people, but copping to being "REALLY conservative". And expressing concern over their seven year old daughter. He doesn't want her to have to "learn too much about life" at this tender age. Like, what aspect of life does he feel he needs to shelter her from or that I'm going to so-inappropriately expose her to?
As usual I can't help comparing my apparently depraved lifestyle with other people in our family and in Delia's family. In both of our families there are those who have HUGE problems with my job, yet think nothing of letting the children be around people in the family who've actually sexually molested other family members. Nobody objects to the lifestyle of the family members who worked for the chemical company that made Napalm and Agent Orange and other killers and cancer-causers. When I had a husband who worked for Boeing, it never bothered anybody in the slightest (including me) that a family member worked for a company that makes machines of war. Their job is something to be proud of, but MY job is a big, scary, society-eating disease. Excuse me, but as much as you try to fallaciously connect porn depicting consensual sex and non, I DIDN'T DO THIS TO KIDS. Not even close. My brother doesn't have a problem with his kids being around one of his other brothers who has stolen cars and served in Iraq and laughs with glee at videos of US soldiers beating and kicking the shit out of Iraqis. But oh, GOD!! WHAT will we tell the children about Trixie and her tranny girlfriend or that she has a job making grown-ups feel pleasure?
I know it's hard, but it's not THAT hard. Especially given the truly fucked up things that people are perfectly willing to ignore, live with and even brag about. He's a soldier! He's a chemical engineer! He works for the military industrial complex!! So easy to boast about. And even those other people who have actually HURT people -- kids -- get the benefit of the doubt: He deserves a second chance. But how many people boast about "my daughter, the pornographer!"? Actually, my mom does and my dad did. In small amounts, but still. They are extra ballsy and good. And I guess if all these little things are hard, I still have that to be extra specially grateful for and don't know what I'd do without it.
It would be easier in the short run to just say we're going to be busy. Too busy to see my step-brother and his family. Too busy to fly out to the Midwest. Too busy to communicate on any deeper level with old friends than filling out those email quizzes about what our favorite colors and drinks are and coming up with a different reason than the real one for the last thing that made us cry.
I could do that (and have and still will to some extent), but sometimes you have to TRY. Because they're family or because you really need a better reason than fear and exhaustion to sever ties with them. No, you have to try your hardest to be patient with their ignorance and fears and confusion (thankfully people have been patient with MINE). You have an obligation to make yourself fucking vulnerable to being told that what you do -- whether it's selling pictures of your beaver on the internet or it's defying the status quo of letting your genitals define your gender or it's being in a non-straight relationship -- that you're destroying the moral fibre of the country, tearing families apart, degrading humanity, and damaging our sensitive youngsters and oldsters who shouldn't be EXPOSED to our depravity and perversion in their fragile mental and physical states!
You have to be gentle with them while they insult you and beg for your protection. Oh but mom is just too old to understand . . . oh god, I just don't want to upset Grandma Seriously? These women have televisions and they've all HAD SEX. When I'm in my eighties I hope people don't think I'm too stupid to understand new shit or that I can't handle knowing that some women charge men money to get their dicks hard. I think they can handle it, and if they can't? OH WELL. I wish someone would protect OUR feelings for a change. Like maybe not insulting the girl on the television for having "too masculine of a jaw" right when you're sitting next to my trans girlfriend who might feel self-conscious enough as it is about her OWN masculine jaw. Like maybe not saying that I'm going to warp your seven year old when YOU are the one warping her with your stupid, bigoted views.
I know I'm being a baby to complain about it because so many people have had it so much worse, but I'm *sick* of coming out to people and trying to hold their hands through the process when I just want to scream at them. It feels like such a gigantic waste of time and energy for me, personally, when I don't even LIKE socializing with people. But I know it's not healthy to take the easy way out and be isolated. I know that talking to people makes a difference, not just to us, but in teaching tolerance and understanding on a broader level.
Basically I just feel bogged down. Getting together with family is expensive enough, emotionally & financially, and communicating with old friends that you aren't sure you have anything in common with anymore takes enough of a toll, that having to pay all these extra costs is really draining. It's like walking through a field of land mines every time you connect with someone who doesn't know who you are and what you're doing lately. Are they going to freak out or pat me on the back and laugh? Should I brace myself for them to say something inadvertently hurtful or let myself trust them to be wiser than that?
Once I started writing this blog entry I realized that the most important thing we can do when it comes to friends and family right now is to cultivate our relationships with people who FUCKING GET IT. Our porn friends, our trans friends, our not-so-straight friends. I'm not very socially energetic but there's no way I can cope with some people's bullshit without having the comfort of other people's understanding and similarities. And I can't help sort of resenting the amount of energy I'm putting into the one camp when I could be pouring it into the other. OR WORK.
Jesus, I can't afford this bullshit. Including my own -- all I want to do is sleep and read and eat and listen to music. I feel sort of guilty and wretched and oh-so fucking tired.
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.
A quick announcement for members and fans of our webcam shows: I moved Wednesday night's shows to Friday night. Why? Because I realized they were scheduled at the same time as the American Idol finale and with us on the west coast there could be people in our chatrooms who'd already watched it and I CANNOT ABIDE HEARING SPOILERS.
This is especially true with tv the past two or three months which has been exceptionally good to my fat American mind. Dollhouse, Gossip Girl, Top Model, Idol, Hell's Kitchen . . . I've been eating the cheese and acting like a sucker tearing up on command. The competition shows are so much better when you like all of the finalists. We might not be having a lot of sex, but who wants to watch us fucking on our spycams when you can watch me crying and squealing like a sissy-girl over CHUCK AND BLAIR and ADAM AND KRIS and ALLISON AND TEYONA!?! It's a more degrading scene than if I invited a gang of carnies over and gave their greasy unwashed asses enthusiastic rim jobs on cam with a needle half-full of junk sticking out of my arm. Now THAT'S entertainment! Oh Chuck those pink flowers and your green coat Blair and that dress and I worship and adore you and your stockings too yumyumyum I love it when you cry you're so beautiful when you weep and I love you TOOOOOO!
As if that wasn't enough, as a bonus for our voyeurs tonight I also cried watching Dolly Parton sing "Backroads Barbie" AND I cried earlier this afternoon when I finished reading The Westing Game (how did I miss that as a youngster? IT ROCKS!).
Being on a higher-estrogen birth control pill is so sweeeeeeeeeeeet. Sweet and salty with my tears, like a big bag of kettle korn.
Other than that I'm working on a simple (but time-consuming) revamp of the free area of TastyTrixie.com. So I can maybe hope to, you know, make some sales. So far this year has been full of optimism because I finally figured out how fucked up my endocrine system has been and how sick I was. It's frustrating, though, that even though I feel way better, my life didn't instantly become perfect once I started feeling better physically. It's like I have years worth of old work to do to get caught up let alone move forward. That's been pretty depressing on top of the economy (I know many of you are feeling my pain or worse in that department). I'm constantly making steps to improve, though, and feel massively blessed to have the awesomest girlfriend in the world and also feel the support of people who know me online, especially our members.
I still have a long way to go, but I am becoming a more patient person. More patient with myself and the world and everyone in it. You still wouldn't call me "patient", but I know I am MORE patient than I was a year ago. That's enough for me to be proud of today.
And even with all of that reading and tv watching and a good stretch this morning, I still worked eight concentrated hours and twenty-seven minutes. How do I know that? BECAUSE I AM KEEPING TRACK.
We have a new nephew! After a long labor he wound up having to be born via c-section and then had something called a pneumothorax where there was air in his chest cavity. Delia and I were "lucky" enough to get to watch the doctor fix it by thrusting a needle into his tiny chest and having the nurse use a syringe connected to it to suck out the extra air. It was all very stressful, emotional and interesting.
Now we're away from home again at a conference where I'm probably going to spend most of the day withdrawn in our hotel room because I'm totally drained. Over the past month we've driven thousands of miles and I'm very sick of it and just want to spend a long week appearing completely catatonic, living only inside my head and lying under a giant pile of blankets and pillows. I've been eating comforting crap (lots of potato stuffs and pasta) to compensate for feeling rubbed raw and the thought of having to make eye contact and concentrate on what anyone is saying hurts my fragile head. I hope I feel more social by Wednesday and Thursday when we have camshows scheduled.
The GOOD news is that one of our dear friends is reviving her sites and inserting them into our network. I also finally got started on redesigning my site; it's very simple so it won't take much to finish it and finally not feel outdated (even though the design is so simple as to be retro-amateur).
Have you been waiting for hot stories about our trip to Portland? While I did feel like I was in a perpetual state of arousal (shooting Delia always does that to me), the most action I got was from listening to the people fucking in the room next to ours.
At first I was nervous when they arrived while we were dirty-talking during a Delia-as-schoolgirl video and felt like they and the bellboy must have heard everything we were saying. I imagined the words "slut" and "cum" and "stop teasing me and show me what you've got in your panties!" echoing down the hallway.
Half an hour later I realized it was all good and maybe an appreciated dose of inspiration when I heard what sounded like crying on the other side of the wall. Of course, being the weird little voyeur I am, I hopped out of bed and ran to the wall to listen to a chick's rhythmic whimpers and a man moaning quietly. And "oh yeah, yeah"s.
The next day we wound up leaving our rooms at the same time they did. For some reason I'd imagined the woman was going to be an Asian girl in her early twenties -- I pictured her looking like Sierra on Dollhouse and the guy fucking her as a puffy white guy in his early thirties. Of course they didn't look like that at all. They were about five years older than we are, the woman short with dark curly hair and sharp, smart features and the guy tall and dopey with shaggy hair and a bandana.
It's weird how we populate our default images of "couples who enjoy fucking"; I'd never have conjured those two up in my imagination, but seeing them it did make sense. It was also weird riding ten flights down in the elevator with them, never acknowledging how we'd heard each other's intimate moments. I know it wasn't the kinkiest thing they'd done and it wasn't the kinkiest thing we've done, but still . . . it seems pretty kinky the way people check into hotel rooms and fuck in them and hear each other fucking in them just a few feet away, overlapping sex sounds and depositing DNA in all sorts of places that housekeeping might miss. All those boxes of hotel rooms and all the cum dumped in them by strangers. There were visible food stains on our comforter -- it looked like barbecue sauce -- and I can't help thinking about all of the remnants of human fluids from total strangers inhabiting the room. Layers and layers of spunk.
You never hear people acknowledge this weirdness of paying money to sleep and fuck where thousands of other people have fucked and jacked off. I find that very bizarre in a country where people are obsessed with sanitizing everything and showering once or twice or three times a day, but they think going to a nice hotel is like sitting in the lap of luxury instead of a germ and sperm depository. Like the people next door -- before they fucked, one or both of them took a shower. To be clean for fucking and letting total strangers listen in. It's not that I personally think hotels are disgusting cesspools of nastiness -- I realize the bedding and towels in nicer establishments are hypercleansed for our protection and I embrace germs up to a certain point -- I just think the double standards are weird with so many people being OCD about supercleaning everything and protecting themselves from germs that they never talk about hotel rooms as cum dumps.
Do you really think they sanitize the television remotes and all the little things you touch that traveling businessmen sully with semen? And how about all of those decorator pillows (especially in bed and breakfasts) that you yourself have stuffed under your bare ass during or after a fuck? Am I the only one and other people just don't fuck in bed and breakfasts or make sure to say, "no honey, not on the decorator pillow -- it will be hard for them to wash"? Personally I just think, "I wonder how many other people have gotten their fluids on this thing with the brocade upholstery." Other times I just count all the stains that remain, visible to the naked eye, like the semi-washed-out spots of blood on the bedspread at the LAST place we stayed and the crusty spots on the carpet. Or how about the blood on this wooden toilet seat (which DID totally gross me out)?
On top of the illusion of cleanliness, I'm fascinated by the illusions we have of privacy, or maybe the willingness Americans have to accept and embrace a total LACK of privacy not just in hotels but in general. I knew exactly when the people in the room next door woke up -- I could hear him draw up the mechanical shades and give her a wake-up spanking. Why don't we demand thicker walls? I'll never understand that. And security recording camera feeds of the four of us in the elevator together, pretending we didn't know how we used each other's genitals the night before.
I wonder how the couple next door expected us to look and if they were surprised by the reality of us.
Unfortunately our friend Krissy came down with a sore throat last week so we've postponed Delia's shoot with her. It will probably be better on a longer trip anyway. I do not understand how people can travel and shoot and get to appointments on time and tan and get all their nails and hair done AND visit with friends and go out and have fun -- we didn't do anything except walk around Portland and try to find reasonably-priced yet delicious places to eat (we failed most days, except I did love a certain sandwich shop in an office building with a delightfully surly cashier).
I also spent an extended amount of time lurking in the aisles of Rite Aid eavesdropping on a not-at-ALL-surly cashier being extraordinarily kind for at least ten minutes to a mentally-ill homeless woman who had a lot of questions that weren't altogether unreasonable:
Sir? Listen, sir -- you can probably tell I'm missing a lot of teeth and my mouth hurts . . . do you think this food is soft? Because that's a lot of money and I'll just be throwing it away if I can't eat it because it's too hard . . .
The guy seriously fondled the bag she handed to him and tried to explain that he couldn't make that determination because it was entirely subjective. She also had a lot of questions about pickles and cucumbers and tried to engage the man behind the counter in that age-old debate pitting sweet pickles against dill. It was heartwarming. Unfortunately I missed out on seeing someone steal a couple cases of beer the next day -- Delia was the only one who got to enjoy that scene.
Anyway, we had great weather for traveling, bought some new ponytail-holders and shot some good content. We did not go to Powell's or down the street to Mary's or visit any friends or enter any sensory deprivation tanks, though. Maybe next time.
We're getting ready to spend a couple of nights shooting in one of our favorite local places so our spycams at home will be mostly-dead except when we come home to let the dog out, pick up things we forgot, etc.
I made an appointment for next week to make my hair blonde FOR REAL and this time I will leave no room for any misinterpretation. EVERY SINGLE STRAND OF HAIR ON MY HEAD MUST BE BLONDE. Not all the same shade, but all unambiguously blonde.
The week after that we're going to be gone for four days traveling, shooting, seeing Delia's doctor, and maybe taking a day off for ourselves, too. We're only making plans to see one person while we're gone, someone we're shooting with/haven't shot with before. I have a hard time balancing socializing, shooting, and staying sane so usually I sacrifice the socializing when I know I can't handle it all. I honestly do not understand how other people are able to squeeze in so much time with other people. It's beyond me, but still I hate all the missed opportunities to see people we like/love.
I'm reserving my scanty social juices for two things over the next six weeks or so: spending time with AmberLily and BigD before they move away from us, and spending time with family when my second nephew is born next month (during an extremely inopportune time; the H00d Canal Bridg3 will be closed, severing our most direct route to Seattle.
Between that and the usual stuff, I'll try to post more interesting blog entries. For really real!
The main thing I want to point out is in the left sidebar: a contact form for bloggers who want to exchange links (or who've been linking to me forever and want to bring it to my attention). I know my blogroll is outdated and there are tons of people who are linking to me (or were, until they gave up on me) but since I so rarely check my stats (and the site I used for years to track stats took a dive last year so I kind of gave up completely at that point) I just don't know about it. Now I have a more systematic way of being notified and following through. I hope my bloggy colleagues will make use of it!
I still have a work to do (updating the FAQs, adding and subtracting links, updating the blogroll, etc.), the code is REALLY ugly (I don't have any plans to fix that any time soon), and it doesn't look at all "web 2.0", but all I care about is that it works and is slight improvement over the old blue blog. I actually REALLY hate three column layouts with the content in the middle because I'm totally distracted by the shit in the sidebars. Unfortunately I didn't want to spend more than eight hours on this so I just kept it simple and assumed most people aren't as easily distracted as I am (and most people are using feedreaders now anyway - maybe).
After I clean this up some more I need to move onto redesigning the whole free area of my site. I'm feeling overwhelmed by the task(s), but it has to be done. I might end up going with A LOT of white space which will be effective for surfers and a good challenge for me (should be simpler, but with my tendency to stack one mess on top of another, maybe not).
We very much enjoyed having Kris Madison and company over this weekend, including her pug:
We indulged in the finest pizza, quiche and naughty treats from McDonalds, played birthday games, saw Coraline (delightful), talked sex, introduced Kris to Deep Space Nine, and didn't get QUITE enough sleep (WELL worth it).
I also got enough work done that I feel carpal-tunnel-syndromey in my right wrist, but not enough done that I'm not panicking right now since tomorrow we've got chat and shows lined up for members to celebrate my birthday and St. Patrick's Day and I'm still trying to finish a members-only update and eleven promotional galleries I meant to send to affiliates way BEFORE St. Pat's.
My show tomorrow (the 17th) is at 4 pm (PACIFIC TIME), Delia's is at 6, and my members-only birthday chat is from 7 to 8:30. If you can't make that one, there's another one on Saturday from 4 to 5:30 to possibly draw/determine the winners of the make-me-blonde thing (which, after last week's terrifyingly low sales (a subject for another blog entry), will be the only way I can afford to make that shiny transition. There is hope for you yet, redhead and brunette lovers!
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?
Am I superstitious about black cats and Friday the 13th and all of that? No. If I am, it's in the opposite way -- my rational mind rejects those superstitions and my personality seems to overcompensate by becoming GIDDY over the prospect of walking under ladders and attaching positive meaning to supposedly unlucky days/events/portents of doom. So yeah . . . I'm irrationally attached to those things that superstitious people consider unlucky.
I'm happy to be home again after being gone for four. We didn't get much shooting done, but the trip and time we took was worth it not just for the pictures, but the time to ourselves, off cam. We haven't spent a night away from work (aka home) together since . . . well, since well before September. I don't think this trip totally counted as a vacation, but it was a reminder that we should try taking one every so often (I know, it seems like I'm always saying that and never fully committing to doing it).
We also spent a few hours on Friday visiting my mom including eating at Ken's Truck Town (yes, we like eating at truck stops; why did they take the Monte Cristo off the menu?) and visiting the new casino. I was surprised she wanted to check it out since my stepdad had a serious gambling problem and my mom was initially vehemently opposed to that casino opening (not because she's still with him -- she's not -- but having lived with someone with a gambling addiction she's not into casinos at all). We all stood around like we were in a foreign country trying to decide what to do with the $3.75 I'd split between the three of us to put in the slot machines. I'd have blown more money there (I consider it a donation/reparations . . . AND mindless fun) but neither my mom nor Delia were interested once we lost the $21 we won.
We don't have any special plans for tonight. Tomorrow and Monday (President's Day) we've got webcam shows and chat scheduled so I think we'll just do a little work and relax this evening. Delia picked up a chile-flavored dark chocolate bar for us to share.
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.
Just a quick entry to say we're busy getting ready to be gone for a few days trying to shoot something specific. Outside. And it's WINTER. But that's when it needs to be shot. Mostly we're just trying to get ready (much more complicated than you might imagine unless you've done our kind of work and the same way we do it) and it's been snowing (again).
I anticipate having cold fingers, legs, buttocks, etc. a lot on Thursday and Friday. And then we're going to celebrate a late Christmas/early Valentine's day/Friday the 13th dinner with my mom. I'm looking forward to it, but also dreading certain things and am practicing stress management techniques while I'm not actively working.
Yesterday we went shopping for additional costuming for aforementioned shoot and after hours of sifting through second-hand clothing my nasal passages, throat and head already felt invaded by that weird, unsettling thrift-store smell that makes you feel like you're coming down with some old-lady sickness. Then we went to the drugstore where a lady was coughing. AND COUGHING. And hacking.
I'm not the type who's EASILY grossed out by random germs, sneezing or coughing people in public, but my mucous membranes were already feeling vulnerable after searching through three thrift stores and this woman was really projecting her spittle. She made half-assed attempts to cover her mouth with her hand by holding it up six inches from her face and coughing TOWARDS it, not into it, and then she walked around briskly touching every single thing in the store with that hand. On top of that there's something unsettling about this woman; I've seen her around town before and she's like a fascinating fifty-seven year old dolly with long, youthful dark-blonde hair in waves worn in a loose asymmetrical ponytail. Her face is powdered porcelain with spots of rouge on her cheeks. Her lips and eyes are lined and her features are girlish except for the wrinkles around her mouth. Nothing about her says middle-aged, which is probably what she is; instead she's a duality of eleven-year old girl and seventy-nine year old woman. I'd totally follow her around the store to stare if she didn't give off such an aura of contagion.
When we got to the checkstand she got in line behind us and it suddenly started pouring down snow outside. The cashier kept interrupting our transaction to answer the phone and I felt totally hemmed in by winter, like she wasn't going to give up until she infected us with post-nasal slush.
Because I DO NOT want to get sick right when we've got time and money invested in shooting, I came home and started swilling down emergen-c until I was totally high (see this tweet followed by this). I rarely get colds (I think I've averaged maybe one cold or flu every other year, if that, in the past fifteen years) but I'm still paranoid enough to often feel like I'm coming down with one.
So. The goal today is to get a million things done, not get sick, stay calm, and leave as early as possible tomorrow so we can arrive at our destination safely while there's still daylight so we can plot our shooting locations for Thursday and Friday.
I won't be checking email while we're gone, we have webcam shows and chat scheduled when we get back (on Sunday and Monday), and I've only responded to maybe 3% of my email over the past year, so . . . yeah -- if you want to talk to me any time soon you'll probably need to be a member who shows up to one of those live cam events next week. Wish us a productive trip!
Speaking of my limits, two seconds before I hit "publish" on this post, I got a comment on my last blog entry from a guy who has a problem. Here's the comment:
I hope someday that you will reply to my comments. Forever seeking your feedback, Furry Freak Bro, aka4JerryGarcia, Merry Pranksters, etc.
He might be a nice guy (if memory serves he acts normal during camshows), but he is one persistently demanding motherfucker who cannot take a hint. Facebook, twitter, email, blog comments -- they all say basically the same thing: Hi there - respond to me PLEASE; I await your response. Please write back to me. If you commented back it would make my day. Your fan, xoxo blah blah blah WHAT. THE. FUCK!?!?!
First of all, you've said nothing to me that warrants a response. Second, if you're a fan of mine you'll see that I don't engage in a lot of idle chit-chat, particularly the hi/good morning/waving/hugging/emoticons variety and if you have any reading comprehension you can see that I'm KIND OF overwhelmed, constantly talk about not having the time or energy for email, trying to keep my hours at the computer limited to a healthy number and use that time productively, etc. How long would it take if I said "hi" or "good morning" or "YES! I fucking SEE you!!" to every single person I encountered online? I would have no fucking life and no time to respond to people who actually put a lot of thought and effort into writing to me.
So I blocked him on Twitter so I wouldn't be bombarded by his pleas for attention, but now he has the balls to make that comment on a blog entry that essentially says I've been feeling like shit and have barely had the energy to drag myself out of bed and now that I'm feeling better it will take awhile to catch up on everything. But listen; even if I were all caught up and had ample time on my hands, the last thing I would feel like doing is encouraging these incessant, self-absorbed, petulant guilt-trips seeking acknowledgment.
I really try to not be mean and to consider that even wonderful people have blind spots, bad habits, etc. Before I ream someone's ass I sometimes try to imagine the person might be borderline retarded or otherwise lack the skills or comprehension to function at a higher level; maybe all they know is that the internet is a friendly place where you can look at pretty girls and get them to say 'hi' to you. And seriously? There are a lot of pretty girls online who make that their sole job/function in life; collecting myspace friends, saying 'hi' and 'hugs' to everyone, making a name for themselves that way. BUT I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE GIRLS. Get it?
Honestly I try to just ignore this person and others like him (ex. No one's responded to my messages -- I guess no one loves me) because I don't have the time or mental capacity myself to discover a nice way to tell them to STOP ACTING LIKE CREEPY STALKERS (when they're not really even BEING particularly creepy or stalkerish, just obnoxious) and understand that from my perspective I just feel bombarded by people who want think they deserve to have me interrupt my life to instant message them. I don't care if it's only two letters. H. I. Obviously it won't stop there. Next it will be "what's up? Do you like me? How's the weather?"
You wanted my feedback? You've got it, fucker. Try to see things from other people's perspectives. I don't *expect* people to waste their personal time empathizing with me or reading my long-ass blog posts, but if you send me hundreds of messages asking ME to waste my time on YOU, especially by begging for warm fucking fuzzies in the comments on a post where I admitted I felt like I was losing my fucking mind, you've got another thing coming.
An appropriate comment from him would have been, "wow -- I'm so sorry I've been sending you guilt-riddled whiny-posts on virtually every social networking site where you appear asking you to respond to NOTHING when you obviously have a lot of other things going on. What was I thinking?" Or, "man, I know what mental illness is like because I am compelled to pester women online; now we finally have something in common we can talk about if you ever have time; 'til then I totally understand if you don't want respond to me. I mean, sheesh -- if you did that to everyone your whole twitter feed would be, @wanker hi!, @dipshit hi! @asshat I see you there, bugging me! Boy, that would be silly! I'm so sorry for thinking only of myself."
If you're a true fan of mine it should be obvious that my JOB is not to sit around sending individuals empty messages of bullshit for free to verify to you that you exist. Find another way to add meaning and affirmation to your life because your current method is insulting and dehumanizing; I'm not a fucking robot or video game where you press buttons on your keyboards and I do a little puppet dance or a doll with a string on her back that you pull to get her to say one of eight pre-determined messages. I like you! Thanks for being my fan! You're number one! Good morning, sunshine!
Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarf!! Seriously, I do not want to insult everyone who sends me thoughtful messages, shares themselves with me, wants me to know they appreciate what I do, etc. What I'm complaining about is a very particular brand of bullshit that fuels the empty "interaction" passing for "socialization" online. It's gross. A total waste of time. Say hi once or twice to me this way if you want, but don't incessantly needle me to respond. I was going to say, "don't needle me to reciprocate" but if reciprocity is what you want, THIS IS IT. Complete and utter selfishness. My little wants and desires trumping yours. I would send virtually the same message every day: Send me ten dollars, please? Hi it's me, Trixie -- still awaiting your dollars. I found you again! When WILL you join my site? It's Friday. Write back with the dollars. Even five would be nice. Say good morning to a good girl with seven dollars? Hello. Do you get these? If so respond with fifteen dollars. Your friend online, needing your dollars. Actually, that would make a billion times better sense than what he's doing, but it would still be way too boring and time-consuming for me to enjoy. I don't want to do data entry, I want to do MY. WORK.
And tweet about picking my nose and pooping. These witticisms don't grow on trees, so don't interrupt me! I'm trying to fucking THINK.
Yesterday we were obligated by desire and blue skies to take a walk in the middle of what would be normal-people's work day.
Right now I feel like taking a month long vacation. Not a real, TOTAL "vacation", but a chance to actually catch up on work with some breathing room to get healthy. There's nothing horrible going on in my life; everything is pretty awesome . . . except that I sometimes feel like I'm losing my mind. I'm feeling optimistic about it though now that I'm starting to understand why and commit to fixing the problem(s). I *really really appreciate* those of you who've taken the time and shared of yourself to suggest I look into getting my thyroid checked.
I could blog about this and all things related to it for hours, but now's not the best time to do it justice and make it sound relevant to people who probably have no idea how relevant it really IS to at least 10% of the population plus all the people who love them and wonder why they're cold, tired, fat, and crazy bitches with thinning hair and dry pussies. And the clueless, careless doctors who think it's all in our heads and just prescribe anti-depressants without even bothering to test us.
I am mad, hopeful, tired and I have a good, holistic plan (which includes taking as many walks in the middle of the day as possible) to get myself into top form and be less crazy. Again, I say I'd love to have a month-long "vacation", meaning a break from commitments but not a break from work. I'm not actually begging for that to fall out of the sky, I'm just semi-wishfully thinking while being partially thankful I can't have one. Because I don't really WANT one. I WANT to work. I'm just really fucking tired, but at least now I know WHY.
Okay. Maybe I *do* want to take a real vacation whenever I walk past someone who lives on shiny wheels:
Second photo of mountain from the top = Mt. Baker Mountain in last two photos = Mt. Rainier aka The Mountain (all shot yesterday)
I decided to experiment with having auburn hair & a tiny bit of blonde foiled into my brunette. It's not really as bright as it looks in the picture, but it's still remarkably different from what I usually ask for. Brunette still trumps all, though, so I'll be going darker/less red again next time around though I'll definitely trust my new hair girl to do whatever she thinks is best (which she says is another foil adding in low lights of mahogany).
I do think the auburn suits me a lot better than blonde ever did and looks better with my skin, but it still doesn't feel like "me" the way dark brown does or even blonde did at times or the way I imagine silver/grey will in the future.
In other boring facelift blabbering, I shaved off my armpit hair and the pubes on my thighs and labia, and I'm in the process of picking out some new eyeglass frames; it's tough, because there are a lot of them I like and I would love to wear glasses more often (the ones I have now are an old prescription so I don't see perfectly with them). To make choosing easier, I'm fairly limited in options because of the strength/thickness of my lenses. No wire frames, squared-off or open-bottomed styles for near-sighted, astigmatic Trixie.
That's all I have time to blog about right now; I've got period cramps and a lot of stuff to do (editing photos and videos we shot this week and building promos that NEED to be done asap) before the weekend when we have shows and chat scheduled. I'd also really like to take some time out to go see a movie.
My mom passed her DNA for knockers down to me and also taught my sister and I how to deal with the problem of having one nipple/areolar complex erect and bumpy with the other one soft:
One time as we were about to leave a public restroom my mom noticed she had one stiff nipple and paused before exiting to stimulate the other one over her shirt so they would match. She did try to get bras and shirts that would prevent them from being super obvious, but when those failed to do the trick (you'd need armor to guarantee 100% no-poke-through) she felt compelled to make both of them stick out if one was being stubborn anyway. Nipples do get hard sometimes when you pee so . . . yeah. I hadn't just peed in the photo above, but I'd given one boob more attention and didn't realize how obvious it would wind up being in the picture. Clearly I am not as conscious of these things as my mom is. Or maybe I'm just not as sensitive? Hmmm . . . well, there's some suggestive kinkiness for the portion of my audience with a special interest in big boobs, nipples, and . . . other things.
I would love to stay up and finish editing this set of photos for members, but it will be better if I get back in bed and disconnect. PMS is in full effect and I woke up an hour too soon. I got a late start this week when I got a headache Monday and spent Tuesday recovering and trying to prevent more headaching. Now the hormones are kicking my ass and making me act/feel like a monster so I'm going to call the amount of work I did today "good" and say goodnight. Tomorrow members can see the rest of the curves and long socks and a sparkly dildo and furry beaver and underarms (not to be hairy much longer, though I'm sure I'll grow it back out again in the future, but that's why we shot this set in black and white: to really show off my bush).
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":
I'm trying to figure out how I can be more of a whore, more of a photographer, more of a blogger, more of a web maven, AND a better person/friend/family member while staying healthy (you know, SLEEPING) and maintaining enough focus/having enough time to efficiently make money to pay off our huge debt.
All of you who've known me and read my blog for any length of time know that I'm easily excited about new ideas, projects, learning experiences, and concepts particularly when they involve sex and money and offer fascinating insight into my own and other people's intimate lives and thought processes. I want to do (and LIKE to do) too much to really specialize in any one thing, FINISH any one project, or devote enough time crafting and marketing any one website to make it truly successful.
A couple of weeks ago I was really on track, ready to push aside distractions and FOCUS. I had a plan and felt great about it, but then new opportunities and reminders of old ones started running through my field of vision and now I'm tiring myself out again trying to figure out how I can do it all. Because I really REALLY want to. Unfortunately I just don't have the competency, stamina, or appropriate temperament to do it all or even 10% of it in a way that's worth more than just the fun of being able to say I "experienced" it and still have anything left over for the people who love me so they don't have to deal with me acting like a monster, whirling around in my own chaotic dust storm like the Looney Tunes Tasmanian Devil.
I guess I need to go back to the plan I had a couple of weeks ago, write down the past two week's distractions and set them UNDER the goals I need to finish before I get to them, and remind myself that I can go back to scatterbrained messing-around when I get our debt paid off. It's a lot of money, but not so much that FOCUSED work on our sites for a year shouldn't be able to erase. It sucks that I have to prioritize everything by what will make the *most* money the *fastest* and most *efficiently*, but that's life. It's really a very simple concept and I'll be very proud of myself when I finally apply and master it. Then I can allow myself to just do stuff that makes me the most horny. ;)
A couple of samples from the gallery I just posted for members:
I don't think I'd feel like I need to lose fifteen pounds if we could afford for me to specialize in long line girdles and corsets.
Speaking of what we can/can't afford, I know that I need to cut some obligations out in order to have time to really tweak and market our sites appropriately. For some reason I'm having a really difficult time deciding which things I need to stop doing, at least temporarily. I've been freaking out a lot and feeling anxious/overwhelmed. I don't think my priorities are set in a way that's effective and it's hard for me to rearrange them and then accept that the things at the bottom will have to be trimmed off. I am trying to do it all (and have been for too many years) and it's just not working. I'm sucking at everything and not really focusing my best efforts on the things I'm actually GOOD at and the things that make the most money.
It's hard for me to let go.
One of the things I realized this month (besides that we NEED to take days off) is that we will have to 1) limit the number of miles we drive/trips we take each month and/or in rapid succession and 2) make sure visiting family doesn't get sidelined in that equation in favor of work or friends. It's not because of fuel costs, it's because we live so far away from everyone that the HOURS spent in the car NOT working (except to fuck up my back/body) cost too much, plus it breaks my heart going for such long stretches without seeing my nephew. I also had a major meltdown awhile back with extreme guilt over neglecting to visit my grandma in over a year. Long story short, I'm stressed out and tossing ideas around in my head to reduce that stress.
Eventually I am going to have to learn how to forgive myself for not being able to do everything, and allow myself to succeed working from a shorter/different to-do list.
I'm glad there's still no clear winner from yesterday's pick-me-a-blog-topic post because I don't have enough time to blog or masturbate or do anything enjoyable except snatch some tv while we're eating as therapy to recover from the stress of . . . not having enough time/having time sucked up by STUPID stuff. Uncreative, unsexy, uninspiring, frustrating, lame-ass, stupid stuff.
Specifically? Too many hours spent over three (not consecutive, phew!) days replacing our router. Summing it up in one sentence like that hardly seems fair to me and only makes ME look stupid. Like only a dumb fuck could lose days of work on what sounds like such a simple little task. But it wasn't simple (and even when it was, it was still excruciatingly time and money-consuming) and was connected to many other things. Being a camgirl/pornographer? So not fucking glamorous most of the time. And it's not just me: pretty much all of my fellow camgirl/pornographer friends are constantly battling the same obnoxious tech shit that interrupts the fun parts of our jobs and makes us all want to just go bathe in gravy-covered carbs. Tech problems are the ultimate turn-off.
Sometimes when my eyeballs feel like they're about to pop out of my head from the force of my frustration and I start hyperventilating and looking around for things to throw out the window (or AT the window while it's still closed so they'll both make satisfyingly loud shattering sounds), I try to calm down by asking myself, "what would I do if I were an Officer on the Starship Enterprise? I certainly wouldn't behave like this, even if WebWhore Headquarters were about to blow up in forty-five seconds!" Patience! Faith in one's own problem-solving abilities! Barely a sense of urgency: just a confident, one-step-at-a-time pursuit of a solution with nary a raise in my heart rate.
So far this technique hasn't worked for me. But maybe someday it will; it's dorky enough that it might do the trick when nothing else can. Or maybe I just shouldn't skip my Ritalin.
Tomorrow night we're going to *try* to trek to Ron's to do some shooting for IMakePorno. Hopefully I'll have gotten most of my "asshole" out of my system today, part of my tax return done (I *have* to get that done, like, yesterday), my hair colored (it's the color of faded, sun-dried feces from a malnourished cat right now) and have time to pack and plan before we get there.
I am a Starfleet Officer, though. I can do anything.
Actually, I'm like an unholy (and super-irritating) union between Barclay, O'Brien (cranky DS9, O'B) and Quark. Sprinkled with the annoyingly pompous, bossy, hypercritical, controlling, buttinsky loudness of Kira and Riker.
Yes, you *should* feel sorry for my friends and family.
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!
This will be a very boring entry to read if you aren't interested in health issues:
Today I *had* to cancel my shows because I woke up with a headache that developed into a full-fledged, obvious migraine. I've done shows before in spite of them and just kept the lights down low and abstained from masturbating to keep all that blood flow in and out of my head consistent, but that wasn't an option today as I had diarrhea and was almost puking my brains out.
Of course, I thought I'd been very good lately about avoiding triggers like bananas, peanut butter, caffeine, etc. but then we realized that yesterday? I ate smoked salmon, bacon and avocados -- all yummy things on the food trigger list. And for some reason I just thought turkey bacon would be exempt from what makes bacon be on that list, but I was SO wrong. On top of that the entire past week I've been very light sensitive with sun spots, etc. and have had a metal taste in my mouth often and other weird flavors on the roof of my mouth; I think I've been teetering on the brink. Today before I got nauseated I was standing in the bathroom and suddenly smelled an overpowering scent of bread mold for a few seconds and then it was gone; it was an olfactory hallucination which I do not think I've ever had before, but apparently is a less-common type of aura preceding migraines.
I was diagnosed with classic migraines as a kid but they were much worse back then with guaranteed puke-fests and a very distinct tunnel-vision and other weird feelings warning me they were coming. As an adult I've been sort of dismissive of them because they're different and less severe than they were as a kid and teenager when they were absolutely incapacitating. The thing is, they were a lot more RARE when I was younger, too. They might not be as bad now and I might be able to avoid barfing my brains out, but they're more frequent and last a lot longer (maybe because I'm not puking?) so I don't know why I just keep trying to pretend they're not a big giant deal.
Low and behold, I discovered today when frantically googling that migraines can also be caused by thyroid problems. It will be such a relief if that's the reason for a bunch of symptoms on my mounting list of health complaints. I feel like I'm wasting so much time in my life trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. I used to think I was the picture of health, not in an athletic way, but in an indestructible-nerd way. Quirks like attention deficit disorder weren't things I saw as vulnerabilities or symptoms of poor construction, they were what made me SPECIAL and amazing! Now I feel like a whining puddle of annoying health problems from my lactose intolerance to my allergies to animals to my inability to conceive to my insane levels of PMS to my anxiety to my sensitivities to every little morsel of stimulation to my inability to hold conversations on cell phones. Yes, I still find it very hard to believe other people are able to separate the noises on the phone and the road from the voice and then actually piece the sounds together into words that are strung into sentences intended to convey meaning. If I were a character on a video game with a full life counter who had to talk (and listen) for three minutes on a cell phone, you would see my juice depleted to almost nothing in that amount of time.
Anyhoo, we're getting up early tomorrow to trek to Tacoma for an appointment with my brilliant and wonderful psychiatrist. I haven't seen him in at least five years and am looking forward to being re-assessed by him and getting a Ritalin scrip. I will definitely talk to him about my other brain stuff like the migraines, potential thyroid issues, etc. That is the benefit of going to a really good psychiatrist rather than just a psychologist; they are DOCTORS who know lots of interesting shit.
After that we're meeting up with Delia's ex-girlfriend and her partner for dinner, then spending the night with our friend Ron; all of these people are creative-thinkers so it's fun to brainstorm with them, not boring "regular" socializing. On Tuesday we have to do some shopping (our threadbare flannel sheets bit the dust and are ripping on my side of the bed and my good hot water bottle is so thin it's about to burst) and meet up with my mom to give her a birthday present (which I also have not picked out yet).
FYI: if you've gotten an email from me in the past three months, you are one of about a dozen people who can say that. I'm just mentioning it so everyone else will know that it's not just YOU who hasn't heard from me personally, I'm just having a hard time getting it all done. My computer time is prioritized to be eaten up doing stuff that's meant to be consumed by more than one person at a time. It sucks, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it unless I want to stop sleeping and give myself more migraines.
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.
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.
Today's show day; I did anal (always a hit) during my first show then Delia and I had a long, relaxed, pleasurable sex session on our spycams. Now she's about to do a show then I have another one tonight. It's funny how sometimes doing webcam shows makes me not want to do anything else sexual that day, and other times it totally charges me up. Today was one of those days where the show definitely augmented my non-show sex drive.
As I've mentioned before, I do a poor job of rewarding or even acknowledging myself when I've met goals or done a good job on something; I tend to want to just go on to the next thing. It's not that I'm never proud of myself, it's just that I don't really soak the feeling up long enough. The other day I decided to do something about that to start the new month off properly; I made a list of my accomplishments for July and progress I made on certain monthly goals. While we only met our sales goals five days out of the whole month, I got confirmation that my only derogatory item on my credit report was removed after I contested it in June. I also have a new goal to blog at least fifteen times a month and managed to exceed that with twenty-two blog entries (spread over a number of blogs, not just this one) and four vlogs for members. We also exceeded our goals for shooting content.
We also have a goal to take four days off (REALLY completely off, the whole day) per month. That's one that we didn't achieve in July, but whatever. You can't accomplish everything, right? Even if it's scheduling leisure time. I also failed to have four hardcore email catchup days (or really to respond to much email at all).
The cool thing about going through this ritual of accomplishment-listing is it's also an opportunity to remind myself what my goals are. Not that I want this month to go by quickly, but I'm looking forward to going through this process again when September hits us.
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.
We finally got a new camera! It just arrived on Tuesday so today we shot our first nudey set with it. Here's one of my favorite, happy NON-nudey shots from that:
I'm extremely happy with it and hope to write a whole blog entry singing its praises and showing it off. Here's one I took last night:
I should say that I can't BELIEVE it's been over a week since I made a blog entry here, but I actually CAN believe it. I feel it in my marrow, this neglect. I could whine and cry about how disgusting I've felt and how tired I've been but that kind of melodramatic pathos won't do anybody any good. Instead I'll just say that I've revamped my routine goals and schedules in such a way that I will be more productive and efficient.
Basically instead of cycling through a long weekly routine to-do list, I've shortened my daily and weekly tasks and lengthened the monthly to-do list so I can group repetitive tasks in a lump to get weeks of them done ahead of time rather than trying to switch gears and never getting ahead by focusing on weekly cycles which barely give me a chance to half-assedly finish all my "chores" before the next week starts and I'm back on exactly the same treadmill; I've been depressed and overwhelmed feeling like I'm spinning my wheels so I really want to set work up so that I can get on a roll and STAY there for two to six days on one type of work at a time. Part of this switch began with me scheduling one hyperchat week per month and now I'm following through on that by making ALL of my work into lumpier monthly events.
Speaking of lumpy monthly events, I did get my period/am not pregnant. I just finished up with that and my second Clomid prescription so in a week or so I should ovulate again. This time we are 90% sure we're going to the doctor for an intrauterine insemination instead of the homebrew fucking. Maybe bypassing my cervix will get this party started, but it will probably leave our spycam voyeurs high and dry since Delia will be storing up her spooge for the fertility doctors who will spin it and wash it and prep it for my uterus (a process that causes some sperm to be lost). Sounds pretty counterproductive, doesn't it? Perhaps, but many sperm are lost in the vag, too, never even getting past the cervix especially if one has "hostile cervical mucous" which really sounds like a very Trixie-esque condition. I haven't had my cervical mucous tested or anything, but it would not surprise me one bit if all of this disappointment could be blamed on my bitterly acidic cunt juices. Oh, we've tried tricks designed to improve the quality of my mucous and used products intended to bathe sperm in slippery stuff they can easily swim through, but to no avail so far. We really want to get this motherfucking show on the road. FOR REALS.
Tonight I'm going to try to get these new photos posted for members and maybe get some more exercise, too. My body is like a weird stranger to me these days, all thick and dimpled in both good and bad ways. I did some exercise along with the tv the other day called "slow-robics" and couldn't even make it the entire hour even with commercial breaks. After the midway mark I had to take a big ass break then come back to it for another ten minutes. There were tons of speed-skater-imitating squatting exercises that turned my thighs and buttocks into what felt like big soft balloons of swollen jello. I have only just regained the ability to lower my ass onto the toilet without screeching in agony and clutching at the wall for support on the way down.
I guess this is what they call "thirty-five". On an intellectual level I know precisely how I've gotten to this point and exactly what I need to do to control at least some of the damage, but on another level I just can't believe this is my body. More to the point, I can't believe how different I am from when I was young. Again, on a rational level it all makes total sense and OF COURSE I'm different from my younger self, but it's not just my body that's different; I have changed in many ways and am maybe needing some time to adjust to my new identity and get to know who I am.
All this dim-witted introspection might sound silly, like it should all be easy and come naturally and make total sense, but you make a lot of plans in life and develop a lot of habits based on your perception of your identity. When your values, needs, and abilities shift then you need to change your habits and plans. Being here in my mid-thirties is almost like losing a limb and needing to learn how to do everything with three of them instead of four. My balance is off and I feel justified in simplifying things. It's not that I feel handicapped by my age (except slightly in the body/porn department); on the contrary, I know I'm more skilled and capable. On the other hand, I'm less deluded and more aware of (and complacent about) my weaknesses. I'm more sure of what I want and what I do NOT want which is great, but it does make one's options seem more limited.
I feel like I blew my ambition wad in my twenties, working really long and hard hours for other people. Proving myself to other people, making other people money, doing what other people wanted and tiring my damned self out. Now? I feel like I don't have much of that drive left, in part because I'm happy and content, but also because I'm just motherfucking tired of it. I don't like having to be resourceful to do my job; I want to have all of the tools I need to do my job well and it just exhausts me, mentally, physically and emotionally, having to pull everything together on a shoestring budget to attain mediocrity. It feels like a big waste of my time and I really REALLY want to spend more time with my family and I REALLY want to make better porn. A lot more time with my family AND a lot more porn. I think these are very normal, typical thirty-something feelings and part of me enjoys being in this stage of life. It's also embarrassing, though, because I feel like I should be able to muster up the energy to rectify this lack of resources. Sometimes it's empowering to know you control your own destiny and can CHANGE your situation just by hard work. Other times? It's just really depressing and tiring when you feel like you've DONE your hard work and you're way past due for the payoff. Everything feels like it hinges on how well I can mind-fuck myself into believing that I can, at the very least, double our income which is basically what we need to do and FAST to make continuing what we do justifiable. Of course, getting normal jobs is even less justifiable than continuing what we do full time simply because the only hope we have of paying off our debts is to win the lottery or work hard on our sites (since there's no limit to what we can make on them, unlike real jobs that have, ummm, limitations on wages and salaries and such, and are totally degrading and exhausting and enslaving compared to working for yourself on the internet). We don't play the lottery and I have no desire to quit what I do, so this is what we're going to keep on doing. Of course, my mind is always spinning with ways I can augment the porn site stuff and switch up our plans and find other revenue streams (aka pile even more jobs on myself) but the basic place I'm at is feeling like I've run a really long race and have no idea how far I am from the finish line. My body is falling apart and I'm beyond ready to slow my pace WAY down to falling flat on my face, preferably straight into a bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy. But I just keep telling myself to keep trudging along even though I suspect when I round the bend there's just going to be another long-ass stretch of empty road.
It's almost 9 pm now so I'm not going to be able to get both exercise AND an update done. I'm feeling floppy after writing this and want to go to bed, but I'll try to get back in here to edit the photos because I know it will be fun and make me feel better. Then again, so would eating donuts and watching television.
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.
Here's the deal; I'm super tired, but feel like I can't let the week end without posting an entry here. Tons of blog entries in draft form that I can't seem to finish for one reason or another, so checking-in will have to do for now.
The week of my birthday (March 17th) I was working on aging and getting into a huge confrontation with my mom. The emotional fallout from that continues to plague me. It's nothing tragic or life-threatening, just cause for introspection and worry over how to apologize (if I even should) and if so, for which part. It's more complicated than that (while also being very pedestrian), but I'll leave it at that.
End of March, as you know, we discovered yet again that we're not pregnant . . . another non-life-threatening emotional drain.
April: have been working on many geeky projects to boost our income; site redesigns, etc. The only part of that we've actually finished is the members-only redesign of Delia's site, but it did suck up a lot of time and energy.
In general I've been leaning at a noticeable slant towards the asshole-end of my personality spectrum so this week I've done a few things to help me straighten up and fly right; we took almost a whole day off, yesterday I got a massage, and we've had a couple of outings involving strolling through town, walking the dog at dusk, and breathing fresh air.
I believe my main problem is hormonal; the longer I am off the pill, the more monstrous I feel and act. Of course, it could be the circumstances that are getting to me, but I honestly don't think that's the biggest part of the problem; I think my problem is chemical. Fortunately there are a lot of things I can do to help myself feel better: exercise, eat better, listen to music, stretch, get massage, go outside, decide how I want to feel and act and make that my real work every day, etc. Unfortunately? I'm not very disciplined with the food and exercise and really just want to be able to WORK-work without worrying about taking care of myself. It's ridiculous because I have so much freedom and flexibility, yet I can't seem to keep things in balance. I'm good at allowing myself plenty of time to daydream and as much sleep as I need, but I want to be better at regularly giving myself therapeutic physical pleasure: dancing, massage, breathing, stretching, crying, etc. Yeah, sex is in there too, but the other stuff is what I'm needing most, am most apt to neglect, and is most likely to lead to fucking when I get them in adequate quantities with regularity.
So. Long story short is that I've been having a bit of a hard time, and that I'd like to hold that craziness at arm's length because it really does seem alien to me, not because it's unfamiliar but because, from a rational perspective (and having been in this territory many times in my life), I just don't think these are my organic struggles -- I feel like they're thrust on me by the exaggerating effects of hormone fluctuations. It's like I can't even BELIEVE what I'm feeling except when I'm in the tightest grip of feeling shitty. I really believe I'm a happy person, and it frustrates me that something sometimes seems to be getting in the way of me FEELING and ACTING happy.
I'm not saying that deep inside me there's a bubbly cheerleader sort of happy person just waiting to get out, but I *am* a grateful, overjoyed-by-small-things and delighted-by-life happy person. I'm just depressed sometimes, too.
So. I'm not posting this to solicit pity or concern, just letting people know part of what's been going on with me. In the grand scheme of things it's not a big deal, not even to me, but I know a lot of people go through the same kinds of things and can relate. I'm working on it, I'm hopeful, and I don't want anyone to have the impression all has been a storm cloud of ugliness lately in my life when that's totally untrue. Today was like magic, in fact, and there have been buttloads of bright spots over the past month. It's just that a lot of life has been annoyingly peppered with little flecks of shit, know what I mean? It's like having the perfect mocha with what seems to be shavings of gorgeous chocolate, but after you take a sip you discover that those are actually grated remains of the petrified brains of Mad Cow Disease victims.
Because I'm always raving about the beautiful light and view we have, here is PART of our view of the Olympics:
We were hoping to shoot photos inside using exactly that southern light today, but it was actually all wrong and coming in at the wrong angle so my legs would have been in blaring bright light while my body and face would have been shadowed. We're going to wait and shoot with artificial light when the sun goes down. I wish our yard were as private as it looks in these photos, because we'd totally be shooting our asses off outside (snow on the "mountains" would be a great titty gallery):
When we had to scrap our daytime indoor shoot plans, we backed up to trying to go somewhere to shoot outside, but I had to scrap that plan, too; every outfit I tried on that included practical shoes (because it's icy outside even though the snow's almost all melted away) made me look like a bloated marshmallow. So we're just waiting to utilize the one tidy area we have in our house this evening and I am doing other work until the sun goes down. If our house were crystal clean we'd have more options, but ummmm . . . it's not. We'll have to work on that tomorrow or something.
Delia and I head to Portland tomorrow (Monday) and won't be back home until Thursday. We picked a hotel with cute rooms to do some shooting and her doctor appointment to get hormones is on Wednesday down there. She has been waiting a long time for this and probably will still be sitting on the prescription for awhile until we find out if there's a reason for me not being pregnant yet after six months of trying. We know her sperm is fine so next week I have a doctor appointment that will probably include (or lead up to) an ultrasound and an xray with dye shot up into my tubes to see if there are any blockages. Depending on what the diagnosis is with me, she'll decide how much more sperm she wants to bank and how much longer we'll keep trying the natural way if that isn't ruled completely futile.
It's about a four hour trip each way for us, so I'll try to make a phone post or two while we're on the road. I'm not sure if our laptop will cooperate with us once we're down there, so we might not have any spycams up while we're gone (edited to add: and I WILL NOT BE CHECKING OR RESPONDING TO EMAIL).
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).
We don't have any big plans for New Year's Eve; we've both got little colds, but that's not why we're not doing any partying -- we *never* really do any partying. I'm looking forward to a Very Sober New Year.
My main focus today and tomorrow is to relax and start the new year out right (by being RELAXED and FOCUSED). I find it totally bizarre that so many other people like to start out their new year by making themselves sick -- I want to start it out feeling energized, not depleted. Seriously: it makes more sense and sounds more appealing to me to spend these two days housecleaning (which you all know I hate) than getting shitfaced or socializing.
My main project for today (and the upcoming week or two) is continuing to work on a redesign for my site (which is actually like THREE new designs since there's one for the members-only area, one for the free area, and one for affiliates to promote; actually, make that FOUR since I want to make the blog match the new look a little bit, too).
I have a very small list of things that MIGHT be called "resolutions", but only a couple of them are things that will be immediately visible and, I hope, appreciated by fans. The main thing? I resolve to wear clothes I actually LIKE more often rather than drag-assing around wearing stuff that doesn't even make me happy. Translation = I'll be "sexier" on our spycams. Notice I didn't say "I resolve to wear less clothing" or "I resolve to stop wearing clothes on cam". This is about quality, not quantity (though I will attempt to display more cleavage and/or more form-fitting tops to show off my Big Boobs better).
I'm also starting 2008 with health insurance and saying goodbye to six years of being uninsured. I have my doubts about whether or not this is actually a good/worthwhile thing, but I guess since it already is making some friends and family feel relieved and less worried that it's a good thing.
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.
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.
I got a girly foot job today. Because there was a special half-off deal going on. And because we rented a nice room to shoot in tomorrow and really, what's the point in blowing money on a fancy room to shoot swank nudey pics if your toes look nasty?
My "nail technician" was a cute heavy-set blonde with her hair done up in Bjorkesque knots. She was not much taller than I am so her arms were pretty short in comparison to her boobs which stuck out a lot. As a result, my toes patted and prodded her fluffy pillows of breastage. During the massage portion, my feet (one at a time) were even engulfed in her cleavage.
I know you all think I'm a total fucking pervert who couldn't help but get off on this sexually, but honestly I kept my thoughts pure in spite of the pleasant feeling of my feet touching a cute-looking woman's breasts. I *do* love touching people with my feet on both a sensual and sexual level, but I got the feeling that this girl was fairly new to her craft; she seemed very preoccupied, as though she were trying to follow a script she learned at beauty school or was handed by the salon owner.
I'm guessing it's probably difficult to have her body invaded like that when she's trying to work and that she has to do some mental and emotional work-arounds to deal with having strangers' feet jabbing and patting and smushing against her tits. My feet are really small so I can only imagine that people with normal or large feet REALLY press up against her. Given her inexperience and her personality I just felt sort of awkward on her behalf. Awkward in a way that would be hot if it were fiction, but that any decent woman could resist eroticizing (at the time, anyway). My nail technician seemed to hold her cards close to her chest when I tried to get her to talk trash about our respective towns; she avoided say anything very personal or in a familiar tone.
She was pleasant, but clearly had her guard up. I chalk it up to the boobs and being new to her trade, but it might also have been because her boss could hear us. Regardless, I felt it was NOT the time to be getting all horny over the feet-on-boobs action. Even when I saw my little toeprints-made-of-lotion dotting the front of her black shirt. Even when she said, "you're still wet so I'm going to keep you here a little longer." Even then, I did not allow myself to indulge in x-rated fantasies.
"But Trixie, it's not like she could read your mind! Why censor your thoughts?"
BECAUSE. Sometimes dirty thoughts leak out like bad gas and fill a room with discomfort. I believe they do, anyway. Some people can intuitively pick up on someone else's hard-on, even if it's purely mental and poses no physical threat. I have no desire to victimize a professional nail technician even if the victimization is only happening in my head. It's just disrespectful . . . sometimes you have to rise above your baser instincts. Without acting rigid and readably uncomfortable, you have to detach yourself, particularly when you see that the other person is sending signals that detachment is what she needs.
People who touch other people for a living without actually doing sex work -- therapeutic massage, nails, hair, facials (haha), etc. -- still provide very intimate services that are supposed to make customers feel good, physically and emotionally. I think they go home feeling similarly emotionally exhausted by the shifty boundaries they've dealt with all day, touching people's sweatiest places, hearing their stories, trying to be receptive to chat while not annoying clients by talking TOO much themselves (or entertaining clients who like that sort of thing). I think they deserve a lot of respect (and good tips) for that and deserve to preserve some boundaries; I would just feel wrong about violating that, even in my head. Especially when my feet are already on her boobs.
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.
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.
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.
On our journey to my mom's house yesterday one of our tires blew out on the freeway. Cool! Getting towed and having a couple new tires put on did eat into our shoot-time, but oh well . . . we have AAA and it was a fun white trash adventure, being stuck on the side of the freeway near the Microsoft campus with all of the fancy Eastside cars whizzing past our beater van. Plus I *love* the smell of new tires -- the ordeal was worth it to sit in Les Schwab inhaling the scent of fresh black rubber and boys in coveralls.
Good news: getting a new memory card for our camera seems to have remedied our problem. We also bumped up the size and quality settings for good measure, so I'm looking forward to showing off nicer photos to our members. Thank you very much to Merrick for the advice and insight on that issue!
Two favorites enjoyed today: hot sex and Lu's "little schoolboy" extra dark chocolate cookies. FUCK YES.
Today during my show someone asked if my boobs are getting bigger; the answer is "yes". They're getting bigger because I'm gaining weight. Even though I joined the gym and have been exercising more the past month, I've also been going hog wild with junk food, and I put all of that weight on my torso (boobs and belly) and face. Honestly I've been anxious and tense a lot and not dealing with it very well; my quick stress fix is salty carbs -- chips, buttery white pasta, buttered and salted tortillas, etc. It's not that I have any major stressors in my life right now, I'm just not coping well with the small things. I am working on it, though.
I know that there is nothing except myself preventing me from improving circumstances that dissatisfy me (debt load, mediocre quality of work, living hours from family, etc.). I do have it pretty fucking good, but my "job"/jobs constantly morph and evolve so that I always have to rebalance and recalibrate. For example, right now my job involves more shopping and costume/shoot planning and location-hunting than I ever imagined in my life. I know it sounds like fun, and sometimes it is, but it's also extremely time-consuming, detail-oriented, and stressful because our budget is limited. I'm not the kind of girl who just LOVES shopping (unless it's shopping for books or music) so it's really just pretty fucking weird and exhausting for me.
I know, it sounds like such a prissy shithead thing to bitch about: Oh god!! All of this SHOPPING is making me so WEARY! I'm just working my FINGERS to the BONE!! And actually, I'm sure a lot of our members would be happier if we just shot basic amateur-looking hardcore at our house and didn't worry about finding cute little cottages to rent and fancy nylon stockings to wear. When I acknowledge that, then I feel discouraged and confused about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it and how I'm doing it and I don't bother to take the time to remind myself that what we do makes sense and is good (example: Delia's hose and hosiery "look" sets her apart from other sites in her niche).
Anyway, I regret bitching about this stuff and should start setting money aside to talk to a professional because I think I just need to vent and spend more time getting to the heart of whatever it is I want most. It's not that I don't like what I do, it's that I get frustrated when doing one thing means that I'm not doing another. I want to do more (and do ALL of it BETTER), but at the same time I feel exhausted, hypercritical, depressed, anxious and overwhelmed.
Oh well, I need to finish my members-only update right now and pack for a shoot we're doing at my mom's house Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. I had to wait for the video to upload anyway so this entry wasn't a *total* waste of time.
Treating myself to a massage this morning and time to read has definitely calmed me down a bit. My period starts tomorrow so wish us luck at being productive during a time that I usually set aside for pure laziness.
Thank you, members (past and current) who tolerate my mood swings and support what I do.
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.
We're going to be gone for three days / a couple of nights in a rental shooting as big of a buttload of photos as we possibly can. Normally we don't do a great job of taking care of our fingernails and toenails as we should given our line of work, so I scheduled a manicure for Tucker and a pedicure for myself today. I think the asian guy doing my feet tickled them on purpose with his pumice stone and got a big jolt of pleasure out of making me squirm and giggle.
So. I did do the brunette thing again and even a shade darker than last time. I LOVE IT!
Anyway, there won't be any action on our spycams while we're gone since there's no internet access where we're going. I know, it sounds like we're living in some kind of a time warp, but we tend to rent places that are in rural locations for our shoots so modern amenities like internet access can't be taken for granted and honestly, I'm kind of glad. We like to get away from the spycams and just immerse ourselves in shooting and then having bedtime all to ourselves with no computers humming or peepers peeping.
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??
Tucker took those pictures of me last week at the cabin we rented for the crazy custom video shoot; the location was fucking fantastic! I bought that Little House on the Prairie dress and granny boots specifically for the video, but of course we had to get in a little photo shoot of our own first before the thing got all ripped up and covered in fake blood. I regret not getting more appropriate legwear to go under the dress, but whatever -- the pics turned out nicely. And I had no idea that ankle boots could look so sexy! Must get more . . .
The other night I dreamt I was Dick Cheney's mistress. I morphed between being myself and being my friend Mia. Dick was morphing between himself and a variety of covert operatives (who looked nothing like the real Dick Cheney) wearing a suit that was too large for him. Our roles morphed between me chasing him while he was on the lam, and him chasing me while I was on the lam. Escalators were involved. It was hard -- TOO hard -- for us to "connect" and he was often chaperoned by lawmen, either because he was a crook and about to escape or because he needed extra force to take me down for my own crimes.
You'll be surprised to find that I WAS DEEPLY IN LOVE WITH DICK in my dream. At the beginning (when he was paying me for sex) I didn't like him so much but then our "relationship" developed, and in the middle of all that chasing up and down escalators and trying to find a moment alone I realized I just wanted . . . to hold him in my arms.
I'm SO embarrassed and sickened by the strength of a dream to develop a crazy soft spot for sugar-bear Cheney. Ugh!
You'll notice that I was finally able to switch to the new Blogger and am now adding post labels! Yay! It's going to take awhile to finish that project and finally add the category links to the sidebar, but I'm *excited*! The pervs will be able to just go directly to the PHOTOS and SEX entries -- life will be a dream.
GONE AGAIN We're doing another two-night shooting spree (last night and tonight) so I'm just home to post my members-only update, check on the dog, etc.
Our efficiency today has literally gone down the toilet: last night we must have eaten something bad because we both suffered nausea and explosive D (I can't spell that word and it's probably better if I don't anyway). I think the last time I had this much force behind my liquid shit was when I visited Albania in 1994.
Anyway, we had to catch up on some sleep and are off to a slow start today. My asshole is on FIRE. Be home tomorrow.
I was trying to find a bargain on a monitor on ebay, found a reasonable 17" NEC (I have tremendous brand loyalty in the monitor department), have been waiting until the last couple of minutes to bid, and when I did, the highest bid was $81.51. So I put my max bid at $92.51.
Errr . . . I *thought* I did, anyway. Turns out I didn't hit that period quite hard enough so my maximum bid was $9,251.00. FUCK ME.A missed period is ALWAYS stressful, you know?
Fortunately the auction just ended with me winning (what a surprise, right?) and not too much damage done (winning bid: $125 plus the usual gigantic shipping fee).
Oh well. I haven't been able to use my new computer (sitting in its box in the living room for over a week) yet since the only spare monitor we have is the size of a minicooper so this will be money well spent.
This is just one example of the kind of work I find myself doing that I really really really don't like all that much: the shopping, the reservation-making, the bargain-hunting, blah blah blah. Shopping is about the FARTHEST POSSIBLE ACTIVITY FROM SEXUAL PLEASURE THAT I CAN CONJURE. Seriously, shopping is the polar opposite of sex and I've had about all I can stand of it this past month (and have more to come). I can definitely imagine having a personal assistant who does a lot of shopping and hotel selections for me (of course I will have final approval over most of her choices) and all of the annoying grunt work of completing the transactions, making the calls, and stuff. SHE will never accidentally bid over $9k for a monitor. Not my "girl", no.
Warning: this is another boring entry and more for my own benefit than yours.
A headache hit me yesterday as I got ready for my first show of the day so my "performance" was extremely boring. I had to turn off my main "show" light since the brightness shining in my face seemed to be piercing my brain. Ultimately I decided to cancel my second show only an hour before it started because I still felt crappy in the head.
If I'd have taken a nap I probably would have felt better, but the trouble is . . . I didn't want to sleep. True, I was experiencing *some* pain but not so much that I didn't still want to read or watch tv. I wanted a sick day, I think.
We wound up taking the dog for a walk (fresh air -- delightful) and spending the rest of the evening in bed watching movies and television. And popping Vicodin. MARVELOUS. It completely slipped my mind we have a stash of those until Tucker reminded me. Nevermind that it makes my skin crawl with itchies and gives me bad dreams, every so often I adore a little prescription mind-alteration. When you can't take a real vacation, I say take drugs!
Of course I feel terribly guilty for skipping out on a show so I could take a walk, pop pills, and eat even more ding dongs, but I'm human and can't remember when (if ever) I've cancelled a show because I was sick. It's times like this when I feel incredibly self-conscious about the spycams, imagining I'm being judged harshly for neglecting my webwhore duties in favor of lazing in bed. Imagining people are "tsking" and remarking to themselves on how I must not be really sick if I'm alert and having sickbed fun instead of lying in a pool of my own sweat and vomit (or at least sleeping). Again, I wasn't tremendously sick or pained, I just felt yucky enough that I couldn't stand the thought of doing another half-assed show.
I actually do still have a headache this morning -- nothing terribly painful, it just hurts to bend over and . . . hurts. It's mild, but distracting and I still feel light-sensitive.
Here is a long list of my ideas about what caused this headache (I *told* you this would be a boring entry):
Too much salt! I've been scarfing down a lot of salty carbs in the past few days, plus Tucker thinks I don't drink enough liquids to counteract the salt effects.
Eye Strain! Maybe I've been reading too much or the fact that I still haven't got a new and correct prescription for my contacts and glasses is to blame.
Psycho! Maybe I just didn't want to do my shows and *created* a headache for myself to excuse myself or because I so totally hated the idea of doing shows yesterday.
Ding Dongs! Oh, those poisoned pucks of cakey deliciousness filled with goo. I bought a box of them midweek and have consumed all but two of them over five days. I know they're evil and toxic so perhaps they are to blame.
Muscle Tension! I have horrible posture at the computer; sitting for hours in my bad computer pose compounded with doing shoots in which I torque my back and neck trying to look "sexy" can really fuck up my/anyone's spine and nerves and stuff, especially when I haven't made time to stretch this week at all.
Hormones I skipped my period / birth-control-pill-off-week this month, so have been popping hormones nonstop for six weeks without a break; the pill is a very likely suspect. I've actually been having some weird dizzy spells too, now that I think of it. Hmmm . . . I probably better not do that again.
Lack of Sleep I didn't get quite enough sleep over the past three days leading up to the headache; I don't function well when I'm even a little bit sleep-deprived.
Emotional Build-Up Having our van break down again and having to spend another $500 getting it towed and its radiator replaced this week was, you know, stressful. I also have been repressing my urges to cry at stupid things, and being on the pill makes me want to cry at A WHOLE LOT of stupid things (Extreme Makeover Home Edition is a major culprit). It's so embarrassing that I wind up furrowing my brow and hyperventilating in my attempts to restrain myself from having crybaby outbursts. My whole body gets all hot and tense trying to hold in the tears so our voyeurs won't see them and Tucker won't worry that I'm, you know, losing my mind. I really should try giving myself a week of complete crybaby freedom instead of letting myself boil inside with repressed emotions, no matter how trivial and silly their sources.
Physical Build-Up I'm still not getting enough aerobic exercise; that build-up of unspent energy along with unspent SEXUAL energy can sometimes make me really crazy and I don't doubt that has some effect on my BRAIN.
Whatever. It's always good to have a reminder to strive for more balance. I hardly ever get sick, and never in any way that's debilitating, so I can almost-always blame my own behavior for not feeling well. Maybe it sounds like I'm being critical of myself, but I like reminding myself that I have control over how I feel and that if I want to avoid feeling bad I should modify my behavior (get more sleep, eat less salt, get more exercise, do more stretching, TAKE A WHOLE DAY OR TWO OFF EVERY SO OFTEN, etc.). I wonder if it seems to other people like I over-analyze and hyperfocus on my trivial ailments when I do have them to the point where it sounds like I have serious health problems; if so, I attribute my actually-quite-dandy health to being aware and thinking critically about how I feel.
Today I'm going to take it easy, do some napping, and not feel guilty at all about lazing in bed. I still have a lot of work to do today, but I'm going to start it out relaxing. I wish I could say I'll post a more interesting blog entry today, but I don't really think that's going to happen with the other stuff on my to-do list.
Yay -- we're home again after a two-day shooting-spree, bringing us about one third of the way to meeting our Valentine's Day Goal of getting three months ahead on content production for our three main sites.
The place we rented was HEAVENLY, and I loved getting up this morning with no computers or cams to go check . . . just padding around in a clean pretty house after a lovely night of sleep in a perfectly firm and tidy bed. It was the kind of house that makes you feel like your life would be perfect if you could wake up there every day . . . if it belonged to you with its pretty colors and clean linens and someone else to do the housekeeping. While I pretended it was my house, Tucker had to go home and let the dog pee. When he came back to our pretend house, it was in our beater truck instead of our beater van and he bore the bad news that our van broke down. Again.
The reality of our precarious situation crashed down onto my head as we filled the dirty cab of the truck so full with our suitcases, lighting equipment, etc. that there was barely room for us to squeeze inside. But whatever. Things will get better. Someday we'll have reliable transportation. But before that we'll have three fucking months of content queued up for updates and won't be scurrying three times a week to shoot half-assed shit just so we have something to post. More time to make money (for a new camera and, you know -- a car that runs), more time to shoot FOR FUN and with a little more ambition, and a lot less tension and anxiety. More time to do other stuff, like chat with members and do private shows and phone sex -- things I really miss (like writing more interesting blog entries). But all I care about right now is meeting that goal of getting ahead on content; we have just over two week to achieve that before Valentine's Day strikes, and then we should be able to stay on top of it with some focused effort (maybe two or three days of focused shooting each month with spontaneous stuff thrown in for good measure, and the freedom to experiment a little more without worrying that we've "wasted" a shoot trying something new or strange).
So. Now I'm waiting for the tow truck to get here to haul our van to the mechanic's. I haven't had a safe and reliable car for about six years and I'm getting really sick of this shit. It's not a very big deal because we work at home, but it has become a larger issue since my nephew was born (and lives hours away) and my grandma is sick (and lives hours away). Right now, at this very moment, I'm not sure if I want to rip my hair out or just shrug it off and remind myself it will all be okay.
We just lost our internet connection a few minutes ago; for once they actually have an explanation for the down-time, though -- they're rebuilding some stuff / making improvements so apparently our connection will be hit and miss all day (and is really slow right now and I'm not sure if it will hold up long enough for me to post this).
The long and short of it for our members is that our spycams will not be up much while they're doing this work but it's okay since we're not going to be home anyway; we're leaving in a few hours. We'll be gone for two nights shooting a bunch of photos in someone else's cute house, only coming home to check on the dog every so often.
The point is, you won't be missing much. Right now, for example, I'm downloading and editing video which means some cams are down anyway while I'm using computer resources for that. The cam that relies on the laptop is also down because we're taking the laptop with us.
On that note, my new computer showed up yesterday but I'm not actually going to get to use it for a week or two since I still need a monitor and to install a bunch of software. With our heavy shooting schedule plus shows this week and next I'm not going to have a lot of opportunities to be shopping, migrating files, and getting things ready in time for shows and updates and such.
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.
Righteous rant develops in this entry; it may be worth slogging through the boring bits if you like hearing me bitch about the bullshit ways pornographers and sex workers are judged by violently harsher standards than mainstream entertainers and business-people.
I wish this didn't look so much like The Blog Boring, but every time I have something provocative and interesting (or at least "sexy" or topical) to write I can't seem to justify spending an hour or more doing it justice so those entries mostly just sit, half-formed, in drafts format.
More boring stuff: I've been patiently (but eagerly) waiting for Hipcast to become compatible with the new Googly Blogger so I can finally add post labels / categories to help people separate the wheat from the chaff in my blog. Today I discovered that Hipcast and the new Blogger are now working together! I even tested the compatibility by making a new gmail and blogger account (not wanting to switch over and -- again -- lose the ability to make phone posts which I consider vital to keeping members informed of schedule changes, outages, etc.) and was all set to make the transition . . . but found out that fucking BLOGGER won't let me switch because some of my blogs (this one) have more than a thousand posts and they just aren't ready for my massive weight. What the fuck ever. I'm happy to wait, I just wish they would communicate those things and wouldn't have been shoving Blogger Beta down my throat with a billion links to "switch now!" for months if I don't even qualify BECAUSE I'VE USED BLOGGER TOO MUCH, apparently. I mean -- I do understand and appreciate that it's better to wait than have a glitch in the transition; I realize I'm not being singled out or punished, I just don't understand why I haven't read about this problem before in their lovely oversimplified tours of Beta that don't alert you to incompatibilities or problems with large blogs not being ready to transition.
I find it interesting that massive entities like Google and Blogger and mainstream sites like Hipcast can't do a better job of communicating with their users. How is it that I, a lowly webwhore, am so concerned about making sure that my members know every single time my power is going to go out or there's a chance one of my shows will be late, and yet these mainstream sites SUCK FUCKING ASS about taking two minutes to post similar messages in their status / news blogs just to reassure people that they are working on their bugs or to convey to people what those bugs are before they waste time (or totally fuck up their blogs) to try out their new tools? Is it that no one with any sense of accountability or customer service has access to post in their news areas? Or is it because blogger/hipcast users aren't paying $20 a month the way members do to my site so blogger/google/hipcast/fill_in_the_blank don't feel obligated to their users? It's really ironic that Blogger cannot keep its own blog updated with any sort of frequency or relevance. Maybe they're just so big they don't NEED to communicate to keep their ship afloat whereas I am afraid the people who support me will perceive me as uncaring, irresponsible, or just too lazy if I don't offer explanations when things go awry on my site or prepare them when there is a schedule change.
This train of thought reminds me that my kind of blog is less about being hugely entertaining or highly topical, and more about keeping in touch with my customers and, you know, reminding them that I actually give a shit about keeping them posted and letting them know I'm alive. Even if you don't have good news or exciting new enhancements to your site or a thrilling story to tell, if you're running a business and you have a blog you should FUCKING USE IT to let people know what to expect when they use your product. Even if you just post to say, "sorry that bug's still not fixed; we know you've been waiting for months to use the new Blogger but . . . ".
It truly cracks me up (in a depressing way) that honest business-people like myself get such a bad rap simply because we sell sex, yet we often operate our businesses with greater integrity, customer service, and respect for our consumers than mainstream business-people. Why is it that we sex workers are all considered morally bankrupt by society while so many mainstream businesses behave as complete sociopaths but are never leveled with the same kind of criticisms sex workers field in such broad, sweeping hyper-generalized ways?? I'm not saying the Blogger/Google people are sociopaths, I'm just saying that I can't imagine the kind of hate mail I'd get if I acted as careless and incommunicative towards my consumers as mainstream businesses do. But *I* as a dirty filthy pornographer am the one who has to pay higher payment processing fees and abide by stricter chargeback guidelines than mainstream businesses. As a pornographer you don't even get a chance to prove your integrity or business ethics -- it's automatically assumed that you're devoid of principles and operate with no moral compass and you're treated as such by the credit card companies and the government. Internet porn is "high risk". I'll bet Hipcast isn't considered a "high risk" enterprise, but they are the ones who'll probably get massive amounts of chargebacks simply because they failed for months to post any news for their customers about their progress on becoming compatible with Blogger.
To be fair there *are* a lot of porn paysite owners who have really helped us earn such a bad reputation, but I honestly think even if we could prove those people are a minority of, say, 1% that THEY would still be the standard by which the rest of us are judged.
Tonight we had bacon and eggs tonight while we watched one of my favorite TV shows, The First 48. It's on A&E, and I can't help wondering how bloody, dead and bloated murder-victim corpses represent "arts and entertainment". I mean, yeah -- it IS totally entertaining -- but so is my bloody cunt but I'm not allowed to get paid for using it for entertainment purposes (and certainly NOT on television during daytime hours, no less!) and it's actually attached to a living person who's not (yet) the victim of a brutal violent crime! I DON'T FUCKING GET IT.
Just a quick post to say that we're going to be gone until Thursday night doing some shooting away from home (yay!!).
Of course, we're off to a late start; the plumber is here again trying to squeeze too-big a tank in too-tight a space . . . lordy. I really hope he gets it done for good soon so a) we can lock up and leave, and b) we can ummm. . . HAVE HOT WATER AGAIN and take showers and things like that.
Delia posted her update early (yummy) and mine is uploading right now, so I hope that and our friends on the spycams will keep you all entertained in our absence, and we'll bring home lots of new goodies in terms of photos and videos.
Oh, I should also mention that I'm SO WET AND HORNY!!
I know, my fellow webwhores and fans who "get it" will think I'm joking and just trying to placate those who want to read about WET PUSSY ALL THE TIME, but I'm actually serious. I had to make up a little sleep this morning but evidently it was TOO MUCH because I was paralyzed in lucid sex dreams resulting in scores of orgasms and an urgent need to masturbate when I rose.
Anyway, I think it's a good jumping off point for some hardcore shooting over the next couple of days, don't you?
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.
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.
Knowing I have so much to share about the Vegas trip, I've been withholding more current events. Like the great phone sex I had the night we came back; houseboy stuffed my mouth with his cock while my phone sex guy told me how much "Daddy" wants me to suck it. I came using my hitachi magic wand (vibrator) with houseboy jiggling the knob of his cock in my wet mouth. I haven't been doing enough private shows and phone sex . . . that little episode was a reminder of how fun and fulfilling it can be. Having houseboy around when I'm doing phone sex makes me feel extra shy and self-conscious -- but somehow the couple times it's happened I've wound up demanding he get in on the action. It's like having a very safe threesome and/or mixing up your fantasy with reality in the most sublime/surreal manner. The best part about it is that I'm the one getting paid to have the MOST stimulation (the auditory stimulation coming from my client AND the real life stimulation coming from houseboy and whatever other toys I rustle up).
Night before last houseboy took about 130 pictures of me (along with some self-timed shots of us together). I'm starting to feel a lot more comfortable "posing" for him. The best part about it is that he seems to enjoy it -- he totally motivates me to do the shoot and helps hook up the voyeurcams, move computer, lights, etc. around -- all those tedious things that are so time consuming.
Full Gallery appearing in my Members-Only area with tonight's Sunday 1/12 update JOIN NOW for access to the entire gallery!
In sad news, since I moved from Tacoma I have been reading The Irish Think Tank's email every so often (it's amazing that a pathological liar feels safe telling everyone his hotmail password when he should realize that will give us the opportunity to more clearly see his inconsistent stories and lies). Now that he is no longer a threat to me it distressed me to find out he is homeless. He finally got kicked out of his apartment and everybody seems to be discovering that he's a soul-sucking opportunistic bad person. One person told him, "Its scavengers like you who leach off of caring hard working people AND think its OK ..that gave me the inspiration for my Scavenger series of seagull compositions".
On one hand I don't feel sorry that he's getting what he deserves. On the other hand I hate thinking about someone who is not completely evil and *does* have good qualities (fun, good sense of humour, when he *does* have money he's extremely generous with it) living on the streets in fucking cold rainy-ass January. I hope that this makes him a better person or that he just dies. Otherwise his destitution could make him even more of a liar and psycho.
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.