Stop calling me if you're not serious.

I'm serious. If there is any doubt in your mind that you cannot show up, don't effing call me.

When you set an appointment with me, I get dressed up and make sure that I am prepared. I make phone calls to procure a space. I think about what the session will look like, and how it will progress. I get amped up about beating the crap out of you... and then you don't show up?! You don't even call? Come on, now.

I know times are tough. I also know that sometimes shit happens and your schedule will not allow you to come to town. However, YOUR TIME IS NOT MORE VALUABLE THAN MINE. If you know you cannot see me in person, but want to, just tell me. We can work something out. I am flexible and accommodating like that. Really, I am. We can have a phone session. We can negotiate.

All I ask is that you remind yourself that I am a person, with obligations and responsibilities- just like you. I should not even feel the need to express this. It should be understood, but apparently, some minds need to be refreshed.

xoxo.

Late Halloween post...

Ha ha, no, your eyes are not deceiving you... I was a cop, and my slave was a Domme "caught in the act" as it were, flogger in hand. Naughty girl! We went to sMACK which, truthfully, kinda blew donkey. Plenty of performances for people to jack off to, but... no kink! Seriously, the one performance I could watch (because we waited on line for an hour to get in) was just a guy in a lab coat and a girl fake-fucking for about twenty minutes. Now, I like watching sex, don't get me wrong. But if I want to watch people dry-humping I can go to strip club. I thought I was at a fetish party, which means I get to see people get beat, or tied up, or suspended, or something!? There was, however, a good impromptu flogging on the cross next to me, between a husband and wife.

The other incident of note was when we were standing on line at the Papaya Dog, waiting for some 3am hot dogs. I heard some guy behind me say, "I soooo want to stick my tongue in your ass." I turned around and said, "What? What did you say??!" He looked at me wide-eyed, like he couldn't believe he'd actually said what he was thinking. I gave him a prompt lecture (read: I got up and yelled in his face) telling him he should never EVER speak to a woman that way, and who did he think he was, and his mother obviously failed as a parent, etc. And then I slapped the fruity little earring right out of his ear. Then, my slave tried to get involved (looking really tough in a wig and a dress), and tried to start a fight in order to defend my honor. There was something about "step over my guitar if you want to fight" which, if you ask me, is an indication that you all BUT want to get in an actual fight... suffice to say, it all ended happily, as the people around us heckled the chunky little "rocker" (he was dressed like the lead singer of Loverboy, and the guitar was from Guitar Hero) and he apologized profusely.

After that, I went to a really boring party where everyone but me and my friends seemed to be on Exstacy. Someone tried to touch me, and I left.

Not a super awesome Halloween, but eventful nonetheless.

I was really happy that my sissy friend made it out for the first time in his full glory, which I wish I had a picture of... I am very proud of you, my dear.

xoxo.

ODing on mediocrity...

Taking the Chinatown Bus to Boston is an interesting experience. Well, it is and it isn't. Inevitably, they always take you through Connecticut (for 3 hours!), and stop at McDonald's. Ugh. To relieve myself of some of the doldrums, I usually make sure
I have a lot of gossip magazines and crosswords, but sometimes find myself staring out the window. I always kind of hate driving through Connecticut, and only had a vague feeling of why until now.

Connecticut, I have something to tell you. Sit down, let's talk. Um... everyone hates you. Everyone in New England hates you, even states outside of your region hate you- New York included. You're boring. And you kinda suck. I mean, it's always gray, there's mile after mile of fakey-old colonial type colorless blocky houses. You have no flair, no personality, and no spice. It's like looking out the window at an economics text book, or tax forms or something. Oh, and you want to know the worst part? You don't even have your own baseball team. In fact, you can't even decide whether you're Red Sox fans or Yankee fans. So, on top of being boring, you're also a flake. I mean, even people from Massachusetts think you're white bred. Now that's bad.

But no, for real the worst part is that you put all these companies along the highway, like you're showcasing the fact that you're the home of nefariously named corporations like: New Technology Systems, The Regional Companies, Inc., Preferred Mfg. (manufacturing what??), and JC Penney Logistics. What sort of logic, exactly, does JC Penney need to employ? What are they actually doing there, I wonder, that JC Penney has a stake in? Soooo nefarious! And Gerber Laboratories? What kind of genetically modified baby poison are they concocting in that place? Seriously, Connecticut, if you want other states to like you, you might want to tamp down the evil corporation loving a bit. The only redeemable corporation name that I found was Assa Abloy. But what the fuck does that mean? (I could Google it, but I'm not. I'm so tired of googling things! Maybe I don't need to know everything instantly all the time. Maybe I like to be ignorant of some things.)

I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Connecticut, maybe there is a you beyond the highway. Maybe there is a vital, bustling part of you that I just haven't seen. But I doubt it.

If I didn't have to ride through you for 3 hours on occasion, maybe I wouldn't resent you so much. Maybe if I could ignore you, I wouldn't feel the need to write about you.

Please, if anyone from Connecticut is reading this, give it a reason to exist!

xoxo.

Apology...

I am not usually an obnoxious drunk, and in fact, take some pride in the fact that I know how to drink, so do not act the fool as soon as I have a glass of wine. I bartended for awhile, so know how fucking annoying it is to watch people who don't realize what tremendous idiots they're being. I don't usually do it, I promise.

But damn if I wasn't a shit-faced fratboy last night.

It wasn't because of the election, I didn't plan on it happening, I wanted to watch the results in a cogent state with some friends. I did! I really did!

I think the last time I got this drunk was when I passed out and tried to piss in the refrigerator. That was like 4 years ago.

So, I just wanted to apologize to everyone who was there who's ass I tried to grab. Especially Russ, I'm sorry. I think I grabbed your junk too.

Apparently, I also stole someone's juke box credits in order to play Stevie Wonder. Someone told me that the girl who's credits I stole came up to me and we "talked". Hey, if you put credits in the juke box and then walk away, what do you expect? So- I'm not sorry about that. I also did something that made it difficult for them to shut off the juke box when Obama was making his victory speech. I also vaguely remember yelling at the television, telling McCain to shut up, or capitulate, or some such business.

Sorry to Sean, for calling you an "ass fiend" when you asked me if I got home alright. I don't know where that came from, but now we have a new phrase to throw about. Also, you took it very graciously.

I also called my parents and taunted them at 1 in the morning for voting for McCain. My mother picked up and asked me to taunt when they were awake.

I can't tell you in what state I awoke today, but it baffled me for like 5 minutes.

I am devoting today to recovering and swearing off vodka.

It's really nice to hear people honking their horns outside because they're happy, not because they're disgruntled. Walking around this afternoon, there is something lighter and happier in the air. Fireworks were going off behind my house last night. There was an impromptu city-wide Mardi Gras in the streets. People smile when they walk past you. I don't think that Obama is going to make a miracle happen, but it is nice to be amidst the exuberance of those who do. It's nice to feel like an era of staunch conservativism is coming to an end.


xoxo.