Diary #407

Last week was one of those ones where I just could not get caught up, no matter how hard I tried.  I can’t quite put my finger on the reason; I didn’t have an unusually-high number of work hours or anything like that, and I wasn’t traveling or doing an excessive number of errands  So I suppose it must’ve just been the general chaos resulting from FOSTA and the Backpage shutdown, including fielding lots of communications from worried ladies and clients and trying to decide how to protect this blog (y’all will be glad to know it’s all backed up and I’m currently working with a generous reader to figure out how to re-domicile it in a country which isn’t willing to lobotomize itself in a vain attempt to get rid of whores).  But for whatever reason, I ended the week in no better a position writing-wise than when I started, which is actually quite irritating to me given that I’m leaving tonight for Los Angeles and won’t be home until Saturday.  Which reminds me:  the dates for my trip to the UK are May 17th to 30th, and though I won’t have a lot of free time I can probably squeeze a few dates in.  So if you’d like to see me, let me know and I’ll see what we can do.  Anyhow, I’m hoping to manage this week a little better than last, but I don’t think it’s likely I’ll be treated to seeing a cartoon version of myself this week.  Oh, well, one can’t have everything.

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Diary #406

It’s a damned good thing that I had a decent amount of work and a few lovely visits with friends last week, because the increasing violence of the War on Whores has dumped a huge amount of stress on the entire demimonde.  Not even sex workers outside of the US are safe, because Uncle Sam’s megalomania knows no bounds and it seems even the Backpage sites in other countries were seized and taken down last Friday.  I’m trying to figure out how to most easily and effectively move this blog to an overseas server, just in case WordPress decides I’m “facilitating prostitution” and takes the site down to protect themselves from the unprecedented censorship of FOSTA.  I’ve been warning for years that the US police state was headed into full-scale totalitarianism, and here we are; I can assure you that governments won’t stop with censoring sex.  Next will come whatever they can brand “terrorism”, “hate speech” or “fake news”, and we can’t count on any help from ACLU because they’re too busy helping middle-class white men force stupid bigots to cater their wasteful displays of conspicuous consumption.  You know that expression, “It’ll get worse before it gets better?”  Well, we’re in that “getting worse” part.  And I’m sorry, loves, but I have absolutely no idea how long it’ll last.

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Back Issue: March 2015

Human beings are complicated creatures; not only is it possible for us to feel multiple conflicting emotions at the same time, but we do it with astonishing frequency. – “Fadeaway“

The incredible shrinking list continues to shrink!  Since there’s no need to list news, link, diary or “back issue” columns, after the holidays (Sex Worker Rights Day, Friday the 13th, and the Vernal Equinox); guest columnist (“Mara“); fictional interlude (“Tick Tock“); harlotography (“Takao“); Q&A columns (“Upside Down“, “Who Pays?“,  “Contract“, and “Fadeaway“); and Cliterati reprints (“Doubling Down” and “Guinea Pigs“), the only essay left to note is “An Ending and a Beginning“, the notice of my impending divorce and my move to Seattle.

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Diary #403

Last week was another good one, though I think I was getting a little hormonal around the end of it.  That may be due to the presence of ten baby chicks in a brooder enclosure in my laundry room because OMG miniature baby dinosaurs that run around aimlessly going “peep peep peep” and banging into one another!  I just kinda wish they wouldn’t foul their water quite so quickly; I would prefer to only have to change it twice a day.  Ah, well, soon they’ll be pullets and therefore no longer cute.  A dear friend of mine also got some around the same time I did, so we’re texting each other about them more than one would expect two respectable whores well into maturity to do.  Here are a couple of images; the heat lamp makes it very hard to take good pictures, because for some reason the camera views the scene as a lot more red than the naked eye does.  I corrected one of these as best I could using the apps on my phone, but left the other one as-is so you can see what I mean; in reality, there’s really just a faint reddish tinge in the room, not this kind of weird early-’70s suspense-film thing.  Anyway, it was a good week apart from the chicks, too; I got to visit with a friend who unexpectedly came to town, and I had several really lovely sessions (including a duo with Lorelei, and those are always spectacular).  There’s probably more to tell, but I’m hearing peeping so you’ll have to excuse me while I go look at them again and squee like a fourteen-year-old.

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Diary #402

I’ve been fortunate to have enjoyed a run of lovely weeks lately; the good parts have been both happier and more numerous, and the bad parts both fewer and less intense.  I had a satisfactory amount of work, including a session with one of my favorite regulars; a lovely afternoon with Jae; Lorelei and I went to see Hamilton on Tuesday (with tickets purchased almost a year ago); and I found out that next month I’m going to have the opportunity to meet one of my heroines, Rachel Wotton, when she visits Norma Jean Almodovar in Los Angeles.  On top of all that, I was quite childishly joyful about getting some new baby chicks (which I’m raising in a brooder in my laundry room for a few weeks until they’re big enough to go into the henhouse at Sunset).  More than four decades of trying to manage my emotions have taught me that these happy times never last very long, but I’ve also learned to appreciate them while they last and to make note of what made them happy so I can at least attempt to recreate them during the long stretches when my moods prove recalcitrant to elevation.

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Diary #400

This coming weekend is SASS; I’m only taking a small role this year, but my friend Angela is on the panel discussion so she’ll be staying with me and that’s always fun.  I’ve also got my annual telelecture to a human sexuality class at OSU this week, and it’s special for me because the new teacher told me she remembers my guest lecture from when she was a student taking the class, and was very excited about it.  It really helps me to hear things like that, or to help expose a rapist, or to be asked to write a magazine article (more on that when it comes out), because as regular readers know my energy is not what it once was and it’s good for me to know that I’m making a difference in the world.  Oh, and speaking of the world, UK readers may be interested in knowing that I’m starting to plan a trip there in May, and I wouldn’t be averse to seeing a few of y’all professionally; I’ll give you more details as I get them.  In the meantime, now that I have Sunset I plan to get some chickens next week; the place has a big henhouse and a nice-sized coop area, and it’ll be wonderful to have fresh eggs again.  A small thing?  Sure.  But sometimes those make all this difference in one’s emotional health.

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Back Issue: February 2015

Most lawmakers have always been pompous ignoramuses too obsessed with telling other people what to do to actually have normal lives.  –  “Moving Pictures”

With my move to Seattle and the resulting shakeup to the rhythm of my life, I made a number of changes that resulted in even fewer “stand-alone” columns than before; since February is already a short month with a large number of holidays, the effect is striking.  After we account for the news, links, diary and other recurring columns; the holidays (Imbolc, Friday the 13th,  Valentine’s Day, and Mardi Gras); the guest columnist (“Hugo“), fictional interlude (“Magna Mater“), and harlotography (“Lady Hamilton“); the Cliterati reprints (“Rotting Fruit“, “Moving Pictures“, and “Nothing New“); and the Q&A columns (“Unconventional” and “Fraught With Complications“), there are literally no columns left over to account for.  And though subsequent months weren’t quite so packed with regular features, the effect is pretty dramatic when one compares it to the contents of the Back Issue from the month in question.

 

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