new glasses, and seeing the world through them

No, they aren't rose-tinted. They're rather boringly clear, I hate to say, but with anti-reflective lenses, hurray for that!

I look a bit like I'm about to scold someone. Probably myself, god knows why I'm awake at this hour. Well, ok, I also know why. I'm anxious. Anxious about going back to the UK, even just for a couple months. Anxious about money, though I feel fairly confident I'll be ok. Anxious about places to sleep, though I have several at my disposal. As per usual, it'll dissipate as I land, and sort things out. Doing that in person will help immensely. It always does. I'm just a crazy worrywart and a control freak. :) Who would've thought?

As I'm sort of revamping and reordering, I figure I'll post up the list o regular characters for those just beginning to follow along-

Mo- my California statistically significant other and boyfriend
E- hates for me to blog about him, so I won't, but figured he should be mentioned :)
S- was T, but to be in keeping with my mostly Victorian ailments trend, I figured this is more in keeping
C- was my Canadian girlfriend, from our favourite illness, Cholera
H- for my chickadee
J- a geeky friend of mine and C's
TB- originally meant to stand for thingboy- my client-cum-lover-turned-ex

Right! Ok, so that should make it easier to blog properly. And yes, each one is assigned a classic illness... don't ask. Or do, and I'll talk about it. A lot. :)

Anyway. That's more for my head than yours, carry on...

So, a blog entry. I'm flying back to London on the 30th, get there the morning of the 31st. I'm a lucky girl as I have J meeting me at the airport to help me get to S's flat, where I can crash while I sort out what to do from there. S won't be home yet, so I'll have some alone crash out time, which is likely a good plan as I may well be a nightmare. A tired, hungry nightmare.

It'll be interesting to go back to working, since I've been mostly out of commission while here in California. I'm definitely excited for it, and excited for potential playtimes while there... I have a few dates possibly, so that tends to kick start the old libido. The only thing standing in my way is retrieving my toys from TB, but that should go smoothly enough. It's amazing how much I've missed my violet wand, or my canes!

I'm also very excited to see H again after a long time apart. I'm itching to get my hands on her. I got these lovely cuffs that I'm quite thrilled to be using on her pretty wrists... patent leather bows, aww! She'll look precious. So I have things to look forward to- some I can confess, others I must keep secret. ;)

Still, it's scary. I'm sad to leave Mo after getting to a really amazing place with him. That said, one of the things I love about him is that I know he'll be here when I get back. Ours is the longest non-relationship I've ever had, and I'm really pleased and lucky to have him in my life. In some ways I wonder why I'm leaving this wonderful guy I know for this crazy unknown- but then I think, "Kitty, dahling, it's YOU!" and, well, it's true. I do this a lot. I like it. I like proving to myself that I can make shit happen out of nothing if I work hard enough. It keeps me feeling sassy.

It's amazing to me in some ways how easy it is to be out about work here, and also in London. I get a lot of questions, for sure, but it's so worth it, because I get the chance to dispell a lot of myths while still validating the experiences of others. We need more outwardly chatty sex workers, I think. If only we didn't get arrested for it here!

Also, I'm considering starting a zine. Something cheap and easy, like me. Oops, I mean, something cheap and easy that I can put together easily- I was considering my first one to be a client guide thing, the second to be about queering sex work, the third about safer sex tips and stories... I dunno, it's sort of an idea floating around. Yes? No?

libido lethargy

It’s been too long since I’ve had a bruise on my body that was sexyfuntimes related, instead of just due to my own clumsiness. I missed the joy I would feel looking at the underside of my breast to discover little black and blue kisses, little reminders of orgasms hard won. I missed the desire that would overwhelm me, the slaps to my face that made me wonder how hard was too hard, the tears that would trickle out of my eyes, unheeded.

Thankfully, my sweetie (let’s call him Mo, after Mono, to go with my illness theme cause, well, I'm weird) here understands all this, and left me with a nice bruise to savor for the next couple of days. And we’re discussing some play that’ll take me closer to the edge

At the same time, I’ve retreated, I suspect, back to being in charge. I’ve noticed my feistiness has tended towards quick bondage and squirming girls under my fingertips, instead of taunting the Beast in a lover, asking it to come out and play. I got lucky tonight, and met up with an old flirting buddy who let me take the edge off, let me take the Beast out for a walk on a leash. Watching him cry and beg made me want to eat him alive, and it was wonderful to remember that I could still feel that way.

I’d say once burned if I hadn’t been burned before, but I have. Maybe it’s a hiatus from the more confusing world of my own surrender, choosing the simpler one where I’m just a girl who likes to get what she wants, likes to provoke a response in the wide eyes and pale skin of a bottom under my grasp. I suspect I’d rather be the freak doing the weird things than being the freak who enjoys those weird things being done. I’m more comfortable with the idea of being a sociopath than a doormat, which, I guess, says a lot about me as a person.

I’ve been pondering what made TB special in terms of switching. Why did I trust him so much more than other sweeties? Not for his experience, for sure, as he was fairly new to these things. Was is sheer enthusiasm? Did I not, actually, trust him that much, and that was what made it sexy? Pheromones? Am I really so shallow as to say “well, he was hot, so I let him do what he liked, and loved it”? Possibly.

Mo, my statistically significant other in California. likes spanking, and anal play, two things I go for, though they both kinda freak me out sometimes. I’ve recently asked him to slap me, and that resonated in me as something I was missing. I guess, in spite of living a life of leisure here, I feel stressed enough that I need the release of a good teary-eyed fuckfest. Having broken down some barriers on the anal play department with TB, I’m eager to try it again, go a bit further. But my libido is still… not dead, but resting? Out of service, sometimes. Not there with me. And I wonder how long that’ll last. Did he break me? Can I fix it? Of course, but I didn’t realize how deeply it all affected me til I had it again, and felt that rush, that tingle. I feel it now, writing this.

I missed it.

Not working hasn’t helped, actually. I didn’t realize how much positive sexy energy I got from sex work. Sometimes I wonder if I’m some sort of succubus, and that’s why the sex is so important to me, that the oomph I get then is what powers me up to want more. When working 2, 3 times a week, I wanted to rush home and play as often as possible. Is it like a muscle? Has my libido atrophied? I mean, I went from 3, 4 times a week, generally a few orgasms a day, to 3 times in the past 2 months. I know, I know, these things come and go… I’d just like it to come back.

sex is business and business is... well, none of yours

Sitting here in the Berkeley hills, hanging out at my grandmother’s house, I feel frustrated. Frustrated because my application for my visa can’t mention what I do for work, or even that I’m employed- why? Because my work is socially stigmatized- it’s more socially acceptable for me to be unemployed than a sex worker. What the fuck.

I’m always trying to explain how I view sex work like any other work, at least for myself. At least I see it like other types of physically/emotionally intimate work, like massage, or being a carer, or a therapist- not everyone’s cut out for it. The only reason sex work is easier to start doing is because there’s no training or certificate to be earned required before getting into it. And you know, that wouldn’t be a terrible idea?

I wonder how you could pull that off, actually, without it being somehow seen as classist. I mean, it could be a free certificate- you go to classes and “graduate” after… maybe a massage one, and a sex work basics one. What would be covered in sex work basics? Safer sex, conflict resolution, negotiating boundaries, taking care of yourself, self defense… possibly another class on sex work economics, or another on sex worker writing/journaling/blogging, basic BDSM, roleplay/acting?

I wonder if that would be beneficial, both for the sex workers, giving them a skill set they might not otherwise have, or even have access to… but also for the clients, if it was a recognized thing. A client could say, “oh, this girl has gotten her cert in safer sex, she’s probably pretty well informed”. It could indicate a measure of care. I mean, it’s like the difference between being a burger griller at a fast food joint and a sous chef at a nice restaurant. Both involve cooking, sure, and both satisfy at different times- but one involves caring enough about the work to study for it, to try to become better and more well-rounded. I don’t know, but I think that would help people respect it as an actual job.

With that said, sex work will never be treated like regular work until we socially treat sexuality as natural, and desire as ok, in its variety. Whether with clients, lovers, or people who spanned the gap, the struggle to accept the desires they held really put a strain on them, on me, and I’m guessing on the lovers they had before and after me. I try to extend my hands and reassure them, tell them it’s ok to experiment with a consenting partner, to be risk-aware but not risk-adverse… but… it’s hard to fight back against years and years of conditioning.

It’s hard to not be broken.

all you can do is wait.

"Patience is a virtue". I can't begin to describe how often I hear this and how much I fight against it, but I know it to be true. It's a virtue I haven't possessed and something I'm constantly struggling to learn. Patience.

Currently I'm waiting on the visa decision for a tourist visa. I want to go back to London to visit my fiance, and due to being refused entry before I decided it was better to go along the government channels and try to do it the Right Way. Let's hope I don't end up $116 poorer for it and no visa! I miss the UK, I miss my sweeties. Fingers crossed it won't be much longer.

Beyond that, it was a month of waiting to talk to TB after our communication broke down completely. Our first discussion was not as scary as I thought it would be, but it's left me wondering what, exactly, I hope to gain from a friendship with him, and if I think we can even maintain friendship. Thankfully we're no longer not speaking, officially, though we're also not talking like we used to. Healing takes time. And patience. Fucking patience!

In the meantime, I'm doing very little in the way of work, though I have one lovely client I'm seeing tomorrow that I look forward to. Most of my time has been spent taking photos, going to parties, and sewing- I made a squid hat for a party and now I'm getting hat commissions, which is exciting for me and gives me something to do with my hands as I wait.

The other thing I'm doing a lot of is self-exploration. I'm spending a lot of time reflecting on who I am and where I want to be, who I want in my life, how I want to support those in mine. I've figured out who I want to spend more quiet time with here in the Bay, which has been really helpful and grounding... I've enjoyed going on some fun and playful dates, and have others planned, which are exciting... and I'm checking in a lot about what it is I need and want to feel like I'm taking care of myself. I spent a month celibate, which was really helpful for grounding myself, and now I've toned way, way down, which is also helping to keep me from falling into old patterns. When I decide I want to change something, I fucking go for it hardcore!

So, in summary... I'm good. Let's hope I get my visa. I miss the way things were with TB, but not enough to invalidate the growth I've made so far. And this patience shit is hard, but man, if I can do it, wonderful things await on the other side.