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Archive for the ‘Biography’ Category

Those of you who follow me on Twitter probably noticed that I started tweeting awfully early Saturday morning, and awfully late on Sunday afternoon.  That’s because I flew out on Saturday for an overnight with one of my favorite gentlemen, and was too busy enjoying my visit to tweet until I got to the airport to come home on Sunday.  And it was such a lovely and memorable visit that I managed to stay completely calm on the way back even when it looked like I was going to be pushed off of my flight due to what I believe to have been a mass invasion of conventioneers or some such.  But apparently Hermes is happy with me right now, because I got on both legs of my return trip despite that.  Even better: it looks like I’m going to be seeing a lot more of this particular gent than I have in the past, and that makes me very happy for all the reasons you might expect (and a couple more I won’t mention).  On top of that:  As I mentioned yesterday, The Essential Maggie McNeill, Volume I is out!  If you want an autographed copy, I’m going to be adding that to my store very soon (likely tomorrow, because I have a Who night with Lorelei tonight).  I’m not going to jinx things by dwelling too long on how well things are going for me right now, but I had to at least share the highlights with y’all, and hope I have plenty more like them this year!

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It’s a lie, but it’s fun.  –  unnamed Seattle cop

Regular readers know that I am fond of unusual song covers; this one, provided by Jesse Walker, is Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” with all the instruments replaced by various sounds made with a spring doorstop.  The links above it were contributed by Rick Horowitz, Franklin Harris, Zuri Davis, Phoenix Calida, Cop Crisis, Popehat, and Kevin Wilson, in that order.

From the Archives

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It’s kinda nice when I can keep things moving along for a change.  We’ve got the trim for the bookcases; I’m waiting for the proof of The Essential Maggie McNeill, Volume I; I’ve made my travel arrangements for this weekend; and I’m starting to figure out my schedule for February (about which I’ll say more later).  And in addition to all that I managed to read a novel and listen to a rather strange but very entertaining radio serial from 1972 named The Fourth Tower of Inverness, which Chekhov gave me for Christmas (he also gave me the sequel, Moon Over Morocco).  Normally it would be difficult for me to sit and listen to such a long series, but I’ve driven to or from Sunset five times since receiving it, and the car has a CD player, so ta-da!  If you’ve ever heard the series you’ll understand when I tell you I kinda wish I had listened to at least some of it stoned, but I’ll have a chance with the sequel (which I’m told is not dissimilar).  Learning to relax and let go of stuff that stresses me out has been a long, slow, laborious process, but I’m getting there, and it’s lovely when people give me gifts that help.

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Kelso…apprehended the open facial area of her…head. – “Officer” John Wolf

The big news this week was the death of Neil Peart, drummer and lyricist for Rush.  It wasn’t easy to pick a video to commemorate him, but I decided on this one not only for its unusually wise view of immortality, but also because it displays both Peart’s skill as a lyricist (inspired by Coleridge, for goodness’ sake), but also his ability as a percussionist.  The links above it were contributed by Anarras Ansible, Sydney Brownstone, Amy Alkon, Mike Siegel, Cop Crisis, Walter Olson, and Cop Crisis again, in that order.

From the Archives

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I drove back from Sunset last Thursday to find a couple of gifts waiting for me; one was a book named A Strange Manuscript Found in a Copper Cylinder, sent to me by Jeremy Dunn.  I had a rather quiet weekend (except for going to a special Doctor Who screening on Sunday with Lorelei); aside from writing and getting stoned (because I believe in keeping Christmas going for the full twelve days if at all possible), I did a bit of planning for an upcoming overnight with one of my favorite gentlemen, and I finally got the cover art for The Essential Maggie McNeil, Volume I completed!  I originally planned to use a photo, because I wanted a different style of cover for my non-fiction books.  But we just couldn’t get any photos to work, so Shannon Reeves (who did the art for The War on Whores) did a sketch based on one of my photos instead.  I think it came out very well, and as soon as I’m finished examining the proof the book will at long last be ready for sale!  So I should be announcing that soon.  Because, as I mentioned last week, Grace has been in poor health, I decided to run back to Sunset for one night earlier this week so she wouldn’t have to be alone for such a long stretch; while I was there we did two more bookcase units, which completes the main work for that set of shelves.  Chekhov will be back tomorrow, so they’ll start on the finish work and staining, and before much longer I’ll have a real library again!  We want to do a few more sets of shelves for DVDs and CDs, then after that Chekhov is going to put new flooring down (the existing flooring is 90 years old and quite worn), and then Jae will do the rest of the decorating; by spring we’ll finally have the main room finished.  And after 25 years of waiting to have a nice place of my own again, that’s going to feel so wonderful I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to react to it.

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Diary #496

During the holidays I was seized with a powerful urge to nest, which took the form of redoing the kitchen cupboards (they’ve never been properly done, in other words done by me, since we moved in) and then launching into the bookcase project.  By Wednesday we had all this done; there are three full units on the right and space for two more on the other wall (you can see the backboard already on the wall).  I did most of the physical labor because Grace is in poor health and is easily exhausted these days, but she did the brain work like design and engineering.  When Chekhov comes back next week he and Grace can finish the two remaining, then there’s the top facade and some nice trim, then staining, and the next time I come out I may be able to act out my nesting impulses on getting my library into proper order for the first time in 17 years.

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Readers with long memories may recall that January second has often been a day on which big things happen in my life.  It was the day my first husband Jack left me, and it wasn’t long after this day in 1985 that I got paid for sex for the very first time.  But twenty years ago today, January 2nd, 2000, was the date I began my full-time professional escorting career, after years of being in that neighborhood via sugaring, stripping, and what the literature calls “casual prostitution”.  And it didn’t take long before I realized that my life would never be the same again.  For the first time I could make all the money I needed and then some, with no looming debts hanging over my head, no romantic partner to accomodate, and no boss to answer to.  It’s true that I quickly discovered escort service owners can be even more awful than club owners, but it takes a lot less money and connections to start an escort service than to open a strip club, so that’s what I did.  And as the internet and the advertising options it offered grew, I was eventually able to dump that encumbrance as well.  I’ve now been monetizing my sexuality for almost 70% of my life (which is to say, basically my entire adult life), and it’s hard for me now to imagine doing things any other way; that’s especially true when I see news stories or conversations about the oppressive, exploitative conditions in most modern employment, not to mention square jobs’ lack of security and the growing tendency for employers to exert control over their employees’ private lives (firing them because of things they said on social media or because the boss got ahold of one of their nude photos, etc).  With the sole exception of librarianship (about 4.5 years), none of the square jobs I ever had lasted over 9 months; most were even shorter than that.  But once I found a profession in which I could be myself, do things my own way, control my own schedule and answer to absolutely nobody, yet be handsomely rewarded for my time and effort, there was absolutely no way I’d ever be able to see the world as an amateur ever again.  And though the past twenty years haven’t always been easy, my work was never a contributing factor to that; on the contrary, it has given me the resources and flexibility to do what I needed to manage the rest.

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