Posts Tagged ‘blogging’

Back Issue: June 2012

Nobody ever sees them come or go, and nobody knows where they sleep or work; the high cost and low availability of hotel rooms at such events has no effect on these mysterious harlot nomads, who move like shadows, live in invisible tents and caravans and then vanish into the dust like Bradbury’s Autumn People until the next mega-competition.  –  “Broken Record

sex raysIn these retrospectives, I’ve sometimes mentioned the style of the columns, the way they “feel” to me when reading or referencing them.  And by the time June 2012 rolls around, they feel completely “normal” to me; I don’t imagine these would read a lot differently if they were written today.  When I refer back to an essay from this period, I often think, “Damn, that was that long ago?” because I clearly remember writing or posting it.  I can remember details of nearly every column this month, the last before the weekly schedule settled into the form it would occupy until just a few months ago.  Oh, the monthly patternsdetail of A Pilgrimage to San Isidro by Francisco Goya still persisted; this month’s harlotography was “Rhodopis“, its fictional interlude “A Haughty Spirit“, its favorites “My Favorite TV Dramas” and “My Favorite TV Comedies“, and its holidays “The Birth of a Movement“, “Father’s Day” and “Litha“; there was also a Q & A column and the longer answer to a more complex question in “Coming Out“.

A Piece of the ActionWith my second anniversary coming up, the subject of blogging itself was on my mind; “Quite Contrary” and “How Not To Get Your Comments Posted” are on that topic.  “The Odor of Socks“, “First They Came for the Hookers…“, “Willful Ignorance“, “Imagination Pinned Down“, “Yellow Fever“, “The Schizoid State“, “The Swedish Cult” and “Broken Record” are all looks at prohibitionists or their tactics, and “Reframing” is on a closely-related topic.  Rounding out the month:  a new entry in my “Hall of Shame“; a comparison of life-traumas with landforms (“Driskill Mountain“); a discussion of how American political parties are simply a case of “Pick a Color“; an explanation of how prohibition leads to “The Suppression of Virtue“; and a reminiscence on my lifelong love of astronomy and space travel in “Ad Astra“.space babes

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Diary #257

0531152328Last week was another behind-the-scenes busy one; though I was kept running and had to make the time to do even the basic writing I expect of myself, none of it but the decorating (which will probably be finished this week) was anything any of y’all would be interested in hearing about.  Well, maybe that’s not entirely true; part of the problem was that I got into a rather stupid funk over last Monday’s anniversary  and it combined with homesickness and a few other issues to agitate the Things under my mental stairs, so that they commenced a most frightful howling which only got louder over the weekend.  I’m feeling very tired and beat-up as of this writing (five hours before posting time), so I hope you’ll forgive me if I keep this short.  I have just three other things I’d like to say before wrapping up.  First, on Friday I was reminded of just what a wonderful ex-husband I have; I got in a minor car accident (my fault), and because I’m still on Matt’s  insurance until we do the divorce paperwork, it will probably increase his rates.  I put off calling him for hours because I expected him to yell at me for my carelessness, but when I finally did he took it in stride, said something to the effect that “these things happen”, and told me how much he appreciated my being such a decent & civilized ex-wife.  On Sunday, I was quoted in a Politifact column debunking the “average whore dies after seven years” lie, and readers in Vancouver, BC may be interested in knowing that I’ll be participating in the Red Umbrella March in your fair city on June 13th, accompanied by several of my activist friends.

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Diary #256

Things were a little quieter last week than they have been, which is to say only “very busy” rather than “incredibly busy”.  Unfortunately, very little of what was going on would be of any interest to my readers.  I spent a good bit of it dealing with decorating (as discussed in last week’s diary), a lot of it socializing with sex worker friends, less than I would’ve liked making money (or preparing to make money, or arranging to make money, or laying the groundwork to make money, or…), and far too much doing bookkeeping and dealing with affairs back at the ranch.  And speaking of the ranch, I was also a bit homesick this week; I really had been looking forward to seeing Grace again in April, and was very disappointed when our plans for a visit fell through.  Well, I’ll definitely be seeing her in July; I’ve got a trip scheduled for then that’s much too important to cancel.  So if you live anywhere along my route (Boise, Denver, Wichita, Oklahoma City, and all points in between) and would like to see me when I pass through, now is the time to make yourself known so I can fit you in!  Don’t worry, if you can’t make it on the way out in the last week of July, you could on the way back in early August.

I’ve picked the best shots from the photo shoot I did with Mistress Matisse last week, but they haven’t been processed yet; in the meantime, here’s an unprocessed as-is candid shot Matisse took of me during a break.  See how dedicated I am to keeping up on my communication with my readers?  So if I answered an email from you on the 12th around 3 or 4ish PDT, this is what I looked like when I was writing it.

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Back Issue: May 2012

The only defense against [totalitarianism] is absolute rejection of its underlying premise:  that it is acceptable and even moral for “authorities” to abrogate the rights of individuals for a “greater purpose” or the “common good”.  –  “Pyrrhic Victory

The Destruction of the Army of Sennacherib by Gustave DoreThe columns from May of 2012 seem so familiar and recent in my mind that it’s strange not to see Links columns on the Sundays.  But they didn’t start until August of that year, and descended from my July guest posting on Radley Balko’s old blog, The Agitator.  There are a few other differences; Q & A columns were still monthly rather than weekly (plus the occasional special like “Mentoring“), and I had just begun the “My Favorites” feature which lasted for two years (this month it was “poems”, the harlotography was “Deborah Jeane Palfrey” and the fictional interlude was “Vocation“).  I was also still doing occasional biographies of people I knew personally (such as this month’s “Terrance“), and in addition to familiar holidays like Beltane and Mother’s Day I was writing about classical Roman holidays like Floralia.

Bizarro SuperMason“Sex trafficking” had by then become a very major topic of this blog; “The Naked Emperor“, “Traffic Jam” and
The Power of Myth” all deal with it directly, while “The Pygmalion Fallacy” covers it in passing as part of a larger discussion of stupid beliefs about robotic whores.   “Whorearchy“, “Naked Truth“, “The Daughters of Shamhat” and “Confined and Controlled” all discuss other beliefs about whores in comparison with reality, while  “Mythbusters” hits on tangential issues; “Greeks Bearing Gifts” and “Stranger Danger” cover other wrongful beliefs about sex;  “Variations on a Theme” compares drug prohibition to sex work; “The Shape of the Spoon” and “Push Comes To Shove” address the nanny state; and “Pyrrhic Victory” looks at widespread surveillance and the descent of the West into fascism.  Finally, “Change of Heart” is a statement about the ethics of outing clients, and “Patterns of Schwartz” profiles the man behind some of my favorite comic book heroines. Untitled Landscape with Man and Two Women by Randall Sellers


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Diary #253

Maggie 4-28-15Last week was hectic, chaotic and full of both good happenings and bad.  I won’t go into the bad ones because they were mostly just financial issues, and would thus not only be boring, but also the predictable result of periods when I fail to devote enough of my time and energy to sex work.  Ultimately, such issues are just transitory; no matter how stressful they are at the time, they always blow over once I get myself re-established as a sex worker, and this time I’ve learned my lesson.  Now that I’m out and have a loving and supportive network of sex worker friends, I have no plans on stopping until I’m just too old to physically do it…and even then I’ll be writing and speaking until a few months after I keel over.  Still, while I’m struggling to get back into the full-time groove, I’d appreciate any help my readers who have disposable funds can give me!

On Tuesday Mistress Matisse took me to her hair salon to get my hair professionally done for the first time in years (it may actually be the first time this century but I can’t swear to that).  I was a little nervous, because I felt that the stylist would think me an idiot for telling her that I wanted my hairstyle changed, yet not changed; however, since Matisse and Jae were treating me, I couldn’t very well refuse even had I wanted to.  Besides, when I came here in November I vowed to thenceforth be open to new things, and that includes my hair.  And my fears turned out to be totally unfounded; the stylist understood exactly what I wanted, and the amount of hair she cut off wouldn’t have filled a teacup (and most of that was around my face).  She then gave me some good advice on keeping it from frizzing, and taught me a new styling technique that…well, see for yourself!  Everyone who has seen it loved it, including the gentleman Matisse and I spent Saturday evening with.

Last Tuesday I also brought in the documents required for me to get my new Washington state driver’s license, and everything seems to have gone through OK; my long-standing ID issues appear to be nearly solved, and that could mean the possibility of a Canadian tour (speaking, escorting or both) in the future!  On Wednesday afternoon and Thursday morning I gave my annual guest lectures to the human sexuality classes at OSU, this time via Skype; my friend Drake Sherman handled the tech end for me.  Drake is a talented musician, and on Thursday night we went to his concert at the Central Saloon; do yourself a favor and check out his original music!  Finally, on Friday I moved into my new office space, from which I hope to catch up on my writing.  I say “finally”, but as I’m writing this on Sunday I can’t speak for tomorrow; if anything else good happens I’ll share it with you next week.

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Ridin’ the range once more
Totin’ my old .44
Where you sleep out every night
And the only law is right
Back in the saddle again.
 –  Gene Autry

Though I hinted at it in the comment thread of “An Ending and a Beginning“, stated it explicitly in “Diary #245” and have referenced it in a number of diary posts and tweets, it seems as though many readers haven’t quite realized that I have returned to active sex work.  You won’t find my escort website by Googling my name, and I’m not going to post rates or anything like that here; frankly, they’re in the “if you have to ask you can’t afford it” category anyhow, though I’m wholly willing to negotiate for regular readers and references from my many sex worker friends.  And though I do have a new work name (that I’m not going to share here), I’m not really concerned if anyone figures out that she is me; in fact, at a recent multi-escort, multi-client party I told the ladies not to fret if they slipped up and called me “Maggie” in front of the gents.  The important thing is that there not be a direct link between one and the other, and if you can’t understand why you haven’t been paying attention.  Simply put, I’m sure there are a number of vice cops who would just love to have my pretty head as a trophy on the wall, and I’m not going to facilitate that any more than I inevitably must (my appearance is, after all, pretty distinctive).  Just last week a reader recognized my picture on a sugar baby site, and messaged me to say hello; my reply was quite friendly because I have absolutely nothing to hide or be ashamed about.  I am a whore; I have always been, and I always will be.  I make my living by entertaining men (and, to a lesser extent, women) and the only thing that has changed about that for 18 years is the exact nature of the entertainment and the details of the contract.

That last is a very important point that I can’t possibly stress enough: the exact details of the contract are of no importance whatsoever from a moral or logical standpoint, and the pretense that some forms of transactional sex are “better” or “higher” or “purer” or “less skanky” than others is pure bullshit rooted in the deeply-dumb attitudes about sex held by the human race in general, and Western society in particular.  Just because I had a state-issued license to take money in exchange for sex and companionship to one particular man (that I happen to have great affection for) did not make my life from 2007 to 2014 any better or nobler or safer for the eyes of children than my life before ’07 or since my return to a more directly commercial form of sex work.  Nor was that return as recent as you might think; soon after starting this blog in 2010 I went back part-time (with Matt’s blessing) under my old stage name, partly for pocket money and partly to put myself in the right frame of mind to write the blog.  Rather than attempt to work for an agency I took out an ad on Craigslist for a week or so, then on Backpage for a couple of weeks, then on a national escort board.  “But Maggie, Craigslist?  Backpage?”  I hear some of you cry.  Yep, and if you don’t understand why please reread the first sentence of this paragraph.  I wanted to see what that form of whoring was like so that I could write about it with understanding and compassion, and I’m planning to eventually do a stint in a legal brothel for the same reason (if any Nevada owner or manager reads this and wants to negotiate a deal for this, please email me at your earliest convenience).  Mistress Matisse has been schooling me in domination, and my sugar baby profile?  That too.  Maybe I’ll even do a few weeks in a massage parlor.

cowgirlNow, I’m not saying that I’m going to stop being a courtesan; it’s the style of sex work that suits me best given my education, eloquence, presence and economic needs.  I eventually hope to get a solid group of dependable, generous, long-term clients who recognize the importance of my work and are willing to either travel to see me or give me space to be sick in the day I travel to see them.  I also plan to continue writing, speaking and advocating just as I have for the past five years.  That doesn’t mean I plan to stand up and orate in restaurants or lecture my gentlemen in bed about the harms of criminalization; what it does mean is that I consider my sex work and my sex work advocacy to be two parts of one unified whole.  Though it may look to y’all as though I’m back in the saddle again after an eight-year absence, in truth I never actually left it.

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Diary #252

Endza with Monk's treeThough I’m continuing to get busier in some ways, I’m also finally done with most of the crap related to relocation and re-adjustment.  Everything, that is, except getting my Washington state driver’s license…about which the less said, the better (they do NOT want this to be easy).  But even that is mostly done, though I have to bring in some more documents today; the good news is that a helpful DMV supervisor (yes, I just typed that phrase) seems to have tracked down the computer error which caused all the trouble with my passport and other government records, and within a couple of weeks that should be all resolved, too.  That doesn’t mean I’ll be traveling much overseas, because my terrible motion-sickness can’t be corrected by bureaucratic paperwork; it will, however, re-open Canada and Mexico to me for the first time since the police state started demanding passports to return to the US from there.

But last week wasn’t all paperwork; on Friday night I attended the Seattle Erotic Art Festival accompanied by the lovely Endza, who was a volunteer docent at the festival and was able to tell me something about nearly every piece there (including one that she introduced with, “and of course you recognize these models because you live with one of them.”)  The next night Jae and I attended our friend Abby May’s burlesque performance, and the rest of my funtime activities for the week are not anything which could be described in non-pornographic language, except for the ones involving chocolate.  Today I’m getting my hair done professionally for the first time in years, and tomorrow…oh, let’s just leave something for next week’s diary!

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