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Posts Tagged ‘anecdote’

Diary #269

Fosse JaeFor the past week, I’ve been spending most of my waking hours at the hospital with Jae; if you don’t understand why, you should read last week’s diary and Q&A columns.  Since last week, she’s improved steadily but very slowly; she’s now breathing for herself during the day, with the respirator serving only as a safeguard.  On Sunday, I asked the nurse to stop giving her one drug that seemed to be giving her nightmares when the dose was high and severe disorientation even when it was low; the results were very positive, and she woke up several times and interacted with me for several minutes each time.  She smiled at me, squeezed my hand, looked at the faces of the nurses and therapists when I introduced them and nodded her head at them; it was obvious she was lucid and aware of her surroundings.  Every day I make sure to let her know what day it is and how long it’s been since the accident, and I’m keeping a journal of all the important events so she can read what happened while she was in Sleeping Beauty mode.  I also plan to show her the Twitter timeline from these weeks so she can see all the love and support she received; if you would like her to see your message, just tweet to @BOBCATGIRL  and she will see it then.  If you can afford to send a donation for her support after hospital, please visit her GoFundMe site; Mistress Matisse will be posting updates about her condition there, and I’ll be doing the same here every Tuesday.  If you follow me on Twitter, you may have also noticed I’m doing short videos via Periscope; even if you don’t have that app, you can watch the videos every day to get the latest update on how she’s doing.  As for how I’m doing, since many of y’all have asked: I’m OK, under the circumstances.  Obviously it’s pretty overwhelming, but I have the best circle of friends in the world and I do pretty well in crises, so no worries.  Thanks to some of those friends I have very inexpensive lodging in a house just about a mile from the hospital; I plan to start walking it today so I don’t get dumpy through lack of exercise. And the less money I spend to support myself here, the more there will be for Jae when she gets home.

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Jae Q & A

cycle - EditedUnderstandably, people are asking all sorts of questions about Jae and the situation; I’ve decided to answer those I can.  Note that these answers reflect the information I have right now, and are therefore subject to change.

How did she wreck?

There were no witnesses, and people who are knocked unconscious in accidents are often unable to remember the accident itself afterward.  So we may never know what actually happened.  However, the state trooper who filed the report noted that she went off the inside of a curve, not the outside; she therefore did not lose control due to speed, and it seems likely that if she had been going excessively fast she would have been killed.  The theory we’re working with now is that some sudden event, like a deer or elk running out in front of her, caused her to swerve and wreck.

Where is she now?

In order to maintain her privacy, I’m not going to disclose the city or even the state.  It suffices to say that I’m a full day’s drive from Seattle.

How long will it take her to recover?

There’s no way of knowing that.  Yesterday she awakened several times, but only for about a minute each time; she was able to follow simple commands and seemed to recognize me, but was highly agitated, frightened and disoriented.  It seems likely that it will be weeks before she can be moved out of the ICU, and it could be much longer than that before she’s cleared to return to Seattle.  Full recovery could take years.

Can I come to visit?

The hospital’s rules do not allow unconscious ICU patients to receive any visitors other than partners and immediate family.  Until she is awake and can provide a list of who she would like to visit her, nobody other than her brother and I will be allowed in.  And honestly, you wouldn’t be able to do much visiting anyway because she isn’t conscious.

What’s a good time for me to call you to ask about her?

Though I very much appreciate everyone’s concern for our beloved Jae, I am only one woman and the sheer volume of calls and texts I’ve been receiving is overwhelming.  Dealing with the hospital staff, taking care of Jae and handling logistical issues take a surprising amount of time, and I’ve only barely been able to keep up with my work the past few days; even a few calls and texts beyond those I absolutely need to receive are just too much for me right now.  So please, if you want an update contact Mistress Matisse or Savannah Sly; I am keeping them fully apprised of all developments as they occur, so they’ll be able to tell you what’s going on as well as I could.  I’m also going to share the latest news via my blog and Twitter, and Matisse suggested I supplement that with a daily (or nearly so) Periscope broadcast; I’m going to try to start that tomorrow.

What can I do to help?

Frankly, the thing we need most right now is money.  Our amazing circle of friends, including (but by no means limited to) Matisse, Savannah and Abby May, has been the best ground crew I could hope for, and if they need anyone else’s help I’m sure they’ll ask.  But while I’m here I can’t work, and even after our return to Seattle there’s no way that Jae will be doing anything remunerative for a very, very long time.  So far everyone’s been astonishingly generous, but the need for support isn’t going to end in the next few days; the more we can collect, the better.  You can PayPal money directly to me if you like, but we’ve setup a GoFundMe page for Jae that will make that even easier (and will allow us to post updates as well).  Please be as generous as you can, and spread the word via social media.  Recovering from a serious accident can be an arduous and depressing ordeal, and I think the incredible outpouring of love and support Jae has received will help her not just financially, but emotionally; it will be very inspiring to her to see how many people love her and want her to be well.

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Diary #265

It’s been quite a week!  Kaytlin Bailey stayed at my place for a few days after the show, and we showed her the full hospitality of Seattle’s sex worker community; she showed us the video of her one-woman show, and I think it’s fantastic; I really hope she gets the opportunity to bring it to television.  Jae left on her cross-country motorcycle trip on Wednesday, after two false starts (one of which was, I’m sorry to say, completely my fault).  Later that same day, I got to take the private rope-bondage lesson from Max Cameron, Seattle’s best teacher for the art; we had been trying to synchronize our schedules (and that of the young lady who volunteered to be my practice subject) for almost two months, so I was really glad we were finally able to make it happen.  My rope bondage has always been simply utilitarian, and I wanted to give it more style, range and artistry. Then on Friday, I went off for the weekend with Mistress Matisse and a very wonderful (and fortunate!) gentleman; we spent it here:0725151353

And that’s as much as I’ll say on the topic (professional discretion, y’all).  Yesterday I set off from the lake to meet Jae in the Denver, Colorado area, which is where I’m typing this; today I’m driving to Wichita, and tomorrow home for two whole weeks!  Then I’ll be headed back to Seattle on the 12th.  I hope none of the other legs are as stressful as today’s; if I never again have to drive through Montana at highway speed in a downpour for seven hours straight, it will be too soon.

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burgundy chairA lot of things have changed in my life in the past year or so, and foremost among them is the abandonment of anonymity.  Of course, my legal name isn’t known, but then that brings up absolutely nothing interesting on Google anyway (unless you get a secret thrill from perusing the public land records of largely-rural counties).  But as Maggie McNeill I’m known and recognized, occasionally even in public, so it was really a bit naive to think I’d be able to maintain a separate escort persona for very long.  I therefore recently decided (with the help of several sex worker activist friends) to abandon that second persona and just do everything – speaking, writing and whoring – as Maggie McNeill.  My website logos, text and url have been changed, and I’m in the process of switching all my advertising accounts to “Maggie McNeill”.  I’ve built up quite a reputation over the past five years, and it seems silly not to use it to attract clients; I’d rather monetize my work in that way, indirectly, rather than by polluting this website with a bunch of ugly blinking, flashing, jumping, wriggling banner ads offering “free” sex with “horny housewives” and “barely legal nymphos”.  In these times of aggressive “end demand” pogroms, that reputation may prove a vital lifeline to nervous clients; when a gentleman calls me there will be no doubt in his mind that I’m the real deal rather than a honey trap, and a referral from me should be good with the majority of escorts in any English-speaking country.  Of course, my high-profile name may also attract unwanted attention of the dangerous kind, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take; I’m sure you’ll understand if I’m especially diligent with my screening now.  It’s also true that some potential clients will be turned off by many of the opinions and truths I’ve expressed here; frankly, I wouldn’t want to be with anyone that insecure anyhow.  So drop me a line, guys; little Maggie’s back in the saddle again, and this time she ain’t even wearin’ a mask.

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You do not like them. So you say. Try them! Try them! And you may. – Sam-I-Am

Green Eggs and HamTwo and a half years ago I published “Due Consideration“, in which I discussed issues on which I had changed my mind due to the persuasive arguments of others:

Despite my steady progress toward cronehood, I find that I still do change my mind on some things from time to time.  Really, this isn’t surprising; while most people become steadily more conservative as they age, I have become steadily more radical.  The reason should be obvious:  as many of you have observed, I am unusually pragmatic and unafraid to follow ideas and observations to their logical conclusions…

But that column only discussed areas in which my political ideas had changed; my personal ideas hadn’t shifted at all, not for a very long time.  And while I guess that isn’t especially unusual, neither is it conducive to personal growth; there were some things I had done the same way, or refrained from doing at all, or felt a certain way about, that were supported by absolutely no good reasons…or at best for reasons that ceased to be relevant twenty years ago.  In fact, some of these things were counterproductive, impeded my happiness, or were downright harmful.  So when I started looking at myself last autumn in the wake of my tour and my impending divorce, I began to see clearly that there was a lot of emotional, behavioral and psychosexual baggage best left behind at the station when I boarded that train for Seattle last November.  I resolved to open myself up to new ideas and experiences; to refrain as much as possible from continuing to do things merely because I had always done them that way; and to recognize that “I’ve never done that before” is an argument for trying something rather than an argument against it.  Though all of my friends (including Matt) have encouraged me in my journey of discovery, Jae & Matisse have been instrumental in making it happen; Jae encourages (some might say “goads”) me to keep an open mind about things and refuses to let me sell myself short, while Matisse is a genius at making me comfortable and providing me with irresistibly-attractive opportunities for exploration.  You might say that Jae pushes, and Matisse pulls, and my other friends cheer me on or even strap roller skates to my feet, and in the end I nearly always discover that I really do like green eggs and ham, after all.

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Although you go through great lengths to conceal your lesbian interest and proclivities, how do you deal with the compartmentalization psychologically and intellectually when you have a session with a client while knowing in your heart that you are a Lesbian?  Although you probably have always known for quite some time, what are the mental techniques that you employ while doing your job as an adult companionship professional to protect yourself emotionally but also give yourself an outlet to whom you really are?

I must admit to being rather confused, amused and befuddled by virtually every part of this question, and I don’t think I was alone; Cabrogal replied to the first part with, “If Maggie’s in a closet it’s a glass one surrounded by neon lights with a painting of Sappho on the side.”  And he’s completely right; I’ve never (not since graduating from high school, anyway) made even the slightest effort to hide my bisexuality, and wrote an entire column on the subject when this blog was barely two months old.  I’ve referred to it repeatedly, featured lots of pictures of beautiful babes, and otherwise advertised my interest in my own sex to at least the same degree in this blog as I have in real life for over 30 years.  I don’t think I could conceal my lesbian side any less if I went around wearing a T-shirt with “DYKE” on the back and a picture of Melissa Ethridge on the front.  However, I’m bisexual rather than wholly lesbian; I have no aversion to males at all, and in fact was married for 14 years to a very dear man to whom I will gladly give a freebie (if he is so inclined) every time we find ourselves in the same city as each other.  We can argue about exactly where I fall on the Kinsey scale, but it’s certainly no higher than 4; to say that I “know in my heart that I’m a lesbian” is simply not a reasonable approximation of the truth.

The questioner’s misunderstanding of all this could merely be a case of leaping without looking; he might simply be a new reader who didn’t peruse much of my back catalog before asking.  But the rest of the query is not so easily explained; it derives, I think, partly from a lack of understanding of the differences between male and female homosexuals, partly from a desire to cram reality into a Manichean duality that doesn’t actually describe it very well, and partly from an underestimation of the degree to which individuals can differ from one another.  Human sexuality is not like a standard light switch, which has two and only two positions; it’s not even like a dimmer switch, with an infinite number of subtle gradations along one linear path.  It’s much more like a faucet, in which two kinds of water can be mixed to produce many temperature gradations while the intensity of the flow can also have many levels.  In fact, if you can imagine a shower where the water can be directed to come out of either the lower faucet or the shower head or a movable nozzle or jacuzzi jets, that might be a model a bit closer to the truth.  Though modern Westerners  like to pretend that everyone falls into rigidly-defined boxes of “straight” or “queer” which they occupy from birth until death and never leave, the truth is that this does not adequately describe many, perhaps most, people’s sexuality.  Kinsey understood that there are many gradations from “totally queer” to “totally straight”, and though most men seem to fall toward one of the ends, a large fraction of women fall toward the middle.  Whether this is nature or nurture is hard to say; any sex worker can tell you that a lot of self-declared straight guys fancy transwomen, or crave being pegged, or otherwise display a fascination with penises that would seem out of place in the standard “all or nothing” interpretation of male sexuality.  And women are, if anything, even weirder; we can apparently float all over the Kinsey scale in response to stimuli or environment, so I might be queerer right now than I was in 2013, and much queerer than I was in 1993, but not quite as queer as I was in 1985.  The only “compartmentalization” that occurs in many people’s sexualities, and virtually all women’s, is that imposed by the individual or the society in which he or she lives.

shower in Ciragan Palace IstanbulFinally, though I obviously can’t speak for anyone else, I find the last part of the question to be highly overstated.  All sex workers have to have sexual contact with at least some clients they find unattractive; it’s only a matter of degree.  So while a straight escort might find only most of her clients unattractive, and a lesbian one might find nearly all of hers so, I hardly think that the latter is going to result in some special kind of emotional trauma requiring special techniques to overcome.  I’m sure that lesbian sex workers probably do get pretty sick of seeing guys after a while, but given that most sex workers burn out eventually I hardly think that represents a unique level of emotional trauma.  And though some people certainly identify as “queer” before anything else, I’m not one of them; I don’t think my relative preference toward male or female sex partners defines “who I really am” any more than does my preference for science fiction over “realistic” fiction, probably not as much as my preference for kinky sex over vanilla sex, and certainly nowhere near as much as my sense of self as an individual.

(Have a question of your own?  Please consult this page to see if I’ve answered it in a previous column, and if not just click here to ask me via email.)

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Memory will lay its hands
Upon your breast
And you will understand
My hatred.

–  Gwendolyn Bennett

Today is the twentieth anniversary of an event I’ve alluded to often and described once, and though I did say I was going to write about it again today, I have changed my mind.  Perhaps I should’ve realized this would happen; as I wrote in the last-linked column,

By the time it was over, I felt as though my psyche had received the equivalent of a sustained beating with a wide assortment of blunt instruments; it took me years to recover from the accumulated stress, and I was still subject to panic attacks (often provoked by unpredictable stimuli) until about 2003.  Even to this day I dread being alone with my own thoughts unless I have something like writing or a book to focus on; when unoccupied by work, reading or conversation my brain is wont to start dwelling upon things best left shut up in mysterious boxes under my mental stairs…

I don’t often have panic attacks any more; not from flashbacks to the Year of Disaster, anyhow, and I’ve learned to contain them well enough that only people very close to me can tell something’s wrong.  But though my intellect says it’s ridiculous to let a specific day on the calendar affect me to that degree (no matter what else is going on in my life), I woke up in a depressive, uneasy mood Monday morning, and it took Jae hours to get me out of it; I suppose next Memorial Day will be the same, as it has been for the last 20 years.  I still prefer to avoid thinking or talking about that part of my life even when it isn’t the last week of May, so it probably won’t surprise you when I tell you that even though I had the opportunity to write this essay earlier in the week I kept putting it off and doing other things instead.  As of this writing posting time is only six hours away, and I can’t procrastinate any more…but neither do I have to punish myself further by dwelling upon awful memories.  I don’t think I will ever be able to forget the violent execution of the last pathetic vestiges of my faith in any kind of government actor, but creating more tragedy porn won’t serve any constructive purpose.  As much as it’s humanly possible, I’d rather leave those memories to howl in their crates and never give them the satisfaction of knowing with certainty that I can hear them quite as well as if I were sitting right on top of them.

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