jamYe waXman. seX matters.

My pussy

Silky. Smooth. Brown. Hairy. Furry. Loud. Quiet. Cute. Loveable. That is how I describe my pussy. Well, it's not actually my pussy, but sometimes I pretend it is. I pet it. Stroke it. Rub it. Comb it. Feed it. Clean it, and do all the necessary maintenance so that I can get unconditional love from my pussy. I talk to it. Cuddle with it. Calm it. Coax it. You name it, I do it, cause I'll do anything for my pussy.

Wanna see my pussy?
View image

Isn't it hot? Dripping wet with excitement (or can you not tell)?

On another note from Waking Vixen:

NEW YORK, NY - $pread, a quarterly magazine by and for sex workers and their allies, presents Sex Worker Visions, an exhibition featuring art by sex workers and about the sex industry, at the LGBT Community Center David Bohnett Cyber Center at 208 West 13th Street, New York City, from March 29 – May 20. Visions kicks off with an opening reception on March 29 from 6 to 9 pm.

Wanna Sneak Peek?

Porn Poetry #2

Almost Ass
By Jamye Waxman

Her adult ad read that she was a girl with some class.
But I liked that it mentioned she took things up the ass.
Anal sex was always something I wanted to try.
But when most girls saw my dick, they wanted to cry.

At 9.5 inches it hangs rather large.
At 9.5 inches it’s always in charge.
I phoned her up, and asked her for rates.
She wanted to make sure she had available dates.

I got so excited just waiting to know.
She asked if I wanted a fuck or a blow.
Uh, well, I stammered not sure how to say.
I want to cum in your ass, will that be okay?

So I just blurted out, "I’d love to do it up the bum."
She said “okay, but there are things you must know before you cum.”
“I have a few rules that I need to share.”
I was so excited, quite frankly, I didn’t care.

First off, I’ll only do it with protection.
Will that be a problem to maintain an erection?
Second, you’ll have to use lube.
And I’m talking the silicone kind, it comes in a tube.

Okay. Okay. Anything I can do.
Oh, yeah, and no poo. Absolutely, no poo.
You got it I said, wondering if I should tell her the rest.
There’s one little thing (I hesitated) that I must attest.

“My dick is quite large, I just like to warn.”
“It’s large enough to do well in porn.”
“What are you packing?” she wanted to know.
“It’s at 9 and a half, and that’s on full show.”

“Wow, that’s a biggie,” she let out with a yell.
“I can’t wait to see just how thick you can swell.”
And with that I knew I had found a good catch.
For at least our one night we were a perfect match.

"I can fit you in tomorrow;" she said all business in tone.
It’s a date, I exclaimed as I hung up the phone.
I was too excited; I couldn’t sit in a seat.
So, instead I prepared by beating my meat.
Tomorrow I’m going to give it to some stranger in the butt.
And tomorrow I’m finally going to get out of my rut.
Yeah anal sex, I wanted to scream.
Finally, it’s not only a dream.

Porn Poetry #1

I don't know where I got the inspiration for this one, but I got it nonetheless.

I was going to title it The Fart.
By Jamye Waxman (but I'm not sure if that's a good title).

It started out slowly, hand under hair.
It started out slowly, to show me he’d care.
I waited each minute with my heart pumping fast.
How long will it take to get this bra unclasped?

I felt it got harder for him to move in his pants.
I watched with delight as his dick started to dance.
And just as it was about to happen, he let out a fart.
And then again, we were back to the start.

Don’t start it out slowly, I mumbled under my breathe.
Don’t start it out slowly, I don’t want to be here until death.
I took control and unzippered his fly,
It had to work, so I gave it a try.

I moved my mouth down over his cock.
I was hoping to make it as hard as a rock.
He moved his fingers right under my skirt.
Gently rubbing in circles, as if not to hurt.

Minutes later I was all wet.
Minutes later he was all set.
He climbed in on top of me and looked down at my face.
The warmth of his entrance, he feels good in my space.

We go this way and that for over five minutes.
And he has to stop so he doesn’t cum in us.
We stop for a while, and then pick up speed.
I’m thinking this would feel better if we’d just smoked some weed.

Back in the rhythm, I ride him on top.
And back in the rhythm he asks me to stop.
I’m going to explode, he yells out in time.
You have to stop, at least with the rhyme.

So, we quietly end both this poem, and the night.
His dick is too large and my pussy’s too tight.
Sex is all about stopping and starting.
But please, next time, can we do without farting?

Self. Promote.

I hear they replayed my segment on 92.3 Free FM's The Radio Chick yesterday. So, if that's where you heard me, and now you're checking me out (so to speak) welcome.

Just something you should know about me and this blog. It's pretty active - and so am I. So if you happen to look back and notice that I haven't written for the past two days, don't take it as a sign that I'm not going to write again for a while. Just understand and appreciate that life happens and sometimes this blog can't.

Now, that being said. Let me offer you a sex tip to keep you coming back.

Doggie style and missionary sex with her legs up on your shoulders are good positions for deeper penetration. Now, if you've already got a really large penis, and you're afraid of going too deep, stay away from these ones. Let her ride you either facing you or facing away from you (a position known as reverse cowgirl).

Okay, more tips.

Ladies, flick the frenulum when giving a bj. The frenulum is located on the underside of the penis, and it's at the place where the head of the penis meets the shaft. It's easier to see on circumsized men, but it's there on all guys. It sort of has a V shape.

Men, the clitoris is the only organ in the human body designed for the sole purpose of pleasure, and it's got 8000 nerve endings, way more than the head of a penis, which happens to generally be the most sensitive part of a man's genitalia. But, the clitoris isn't only the tiny nub that you can see from under the clitoral hood. The clitoris extends back, beyond the head. It has a shaft that you can feel by rubbing on the hood of the clit. It has legs that you can't feel, but that feel good to touch by rubbing along the lips of the vagina.

Want to learn more about the G Spot and Prostate? Click here and listen to my podcast.

Also, if you're a female and interested in having sex on a film for the internationally known female director who essentially started the couples genre of adult erotic, drop me a line. We need to talk.

Oh yeah, and I've got a new post on Souldish.com.

Thanks for stopping by. Whether it's your first time or you've been here before. I do appreciate your business. (How fast food like). Please write. Read. And come again and often.

LIVE NOW

I'm on the Derek and Romaine Show right now. We're talking about getting caught having sex in public. Is sex in public legal if it's in a van as opposed to a car? Is sex in public legal at all? Inquiring minds want to know.

A Man's Right to Her Baby

This article caught my attention in yesterday's NY Times.

It's all about unwed fathers and their right to be a single parent if the mother decides to carry the fetus to term and then put it up for adoption. I must say it's not something I had thought much about, although I've always followed the work of Dr. Warren Farrell, who, while not mentioned in this article, probably had a hand in bringing it about.

Of course, it's not easy to file for custody of a woman's fetus, especially if the man isn't with the woman anymore. There are 30 states that have a state putative father registry, and apparently in some states the father must actually claim paternity, while in others it's all about the possibility of his fathering a child. In other words, if he's just had sex with a woman, and thinks she might have gotten preggers, he can call up the registry and register as the possible father to Lady X's baby. Even if she never conceives, he's now, in a sense, covered his ass. But if the father claims paternity after an adoption petition is filed, he has no chance of ever taking custody of that child.

Such an interesting story about an often overlooked portion of the potential parenting population. And while it is the woman's right to initially choose what happens to her fetus, if she decides to birth it and then give it up for adoption, shouldn't the father have a right to decide if he wants to raise the child?

I think the answer is yes. Of course, it all depends. I talk about it a little, and them some other things too, this week on my podcast. *The other things include the G Spot and the Prostate.

Now, unrelated, but on the topic of sex, the FCC is ass damn backwards. Yes, that's right. Apparently they're slapping $3.9 million fines on a TV show that portrayed a not too explicit, but explicit enough, teen sex orgy.

C'mon, like teens aren't having sex. Unfortunately we (meaning anyone who reads this is the United States) live in one of the prudest of countries. Sex is wrong, but violence, well, that's alright by us.

Sex in the form of rape is okay, because that's not consensual. And so is murder and fighting, (the FCC loves that kind of shit). This is the problem though. Sex is natural, even if the FCC wants to believe it's not. Sex is something almost all of us will try at some point in our lives and it's something we will try to enjoy when we do it. So tell me again why we can't watch sexually suggestive material on TV? Why we can watch blood and guts without worry, but why is sex so wrong, wrong, wrong?

It's sex dammit. Not brutality. It's about exploration, mutual understanding, love or like. It's about connection. How do we beat that into the FCC?

A different type of casting call

Crotch shot.

On, Tuesday night - I'm co hosting the Derek and Romaine show on Sirius Sattelite Radio from 7PM - 10PM. Tune in and call in too!

I’m soon to be writing an article for a major woman’s magazine – one that you can buy in places like Whole Foods - and I'm looking for FIVE real couples to talk with me about your sex lives. What we really want is to get you to try something new, in order to revitalize, remake or expand your sexual repetoire.

Perhaps you’ve had a sexual goal, something you’ve been looking to accomplish for a while and you want to try it out. Or you’ve always wanted to unleash a sexual fantasy, and now you have permission to reveal it. Maybe you want to work on something in the relationship and think that doing a new activity can help.

Here’s how it will go down. It’s best if you live in or around New York. You’ll send me a picture and a possible idea of what you want to do and why. If selected, you’ll actually try out this sex thing and then you’ll tell me all about it. We’ll have a panel of three sex experts (two therapists, one educator) who will discuss what you’ve done and the end results. Then you’ll get a nice photo shoot, courtesy of the magazine, and your picture and story will appear together in an upcoming issue.

Here are some ideas to help get you started (but I encourage new ideas too):

Good Couples Porn
There's plenty of porn out there, but not plenty of porn out there that you want to watch. From shoes to orgasms, women can tell the fake from the real, and we know when the shoes are as cheap as the sex is. One couple will take the plunge for the rest of humanity. Given three "couples friendly" videos, they'll tell us which ones are worth the watch, and which ones aren't. Which couples videos will pass the eyegasm test?

The Liberator Shapes
The ads are everywhere for the blue, firm, yet bulky sex apparatus that's supposed to change the shape of sex, but do they work? One couple will test out the ramp and wedge combo, and let us know if and liberator shapes changed their position on sex.

Make your own movie or Taking dirty pictures
Ever thought about making your own erotic movie/posing for dirty pictures? Can't be too hard, can it? One couple takes the plunge and gets naked for their own camera. They'll tell us what goes right, and what goes wrong.

Sex creams
If you're not going to cream your pants naturally, is their a sex cream out there that will do it for you? One adventurous couple will try out two-three vaginal/clitoral sex creams on the market, and let us know, does it do more than make you wet?

Sex in Public
Sex in public, but not too public a space. You choose the place, or we can come up with suggestions too, and go for it. Are you in your own backyard, or a large open field? How does sex in public feel? You’ll tell us about the liberation and the anxiety, and anything in between.

Email me at hottwax@gmail.com if you want to get involved!

Live Blog

Lots of people have been liveblogging things like Awards Shows or TV, so tonight I decided to live blog a moment in my life.

10:52PM
The foster cat snores. And when he's not snoring, he's making strange meows or snorting, or licking himself. Poor guy, never got to copulate before getting his balls chopped off. Wonder if he knows what he's missing? duh, of course not.

10:54PM
How will I sweat out this cold? The acupuncturist gave me this tea to help me sweat out this cold. Specific instructions too. Take at night, after dinner, and after going out for the night, because the tea will make me more susceptible to getting sick. He said it will open me up. What does he mean by open me up>

10:54:58PM
This tea doesn't taste bad, but there's too much to go in one cup. I'm sitting here in a hat, three blankets, two sweaters and still I'm not sweating. I'm supposed to sweat this cold out. I may have to put on the contents of my closet to sweat tonight. After I'm finished I'm supposed to drink soup, but I'm not really hungry. I guess right now I should focus on the sweat. Truth is, I'm focusing on the blog.

10:58PM
Done typing. But can't be done. Haven't even started thinking for the night. Well, I have, I mean I've been thinking all day but for reasons I can't get into, and for other reasons I can't get into without getting into those reasons, I can't say more. That makes it hard to say anything. Say Anything. I loved that movie. What ever happened to Ione Skye?

10:59PM
The tea is making my nose stuffed again. Not that it hasn't been stuffed all week - it has been- but now it feels more stuffed again. Good thing is I've learned to sleep on my back. That's something I've always wanted to do more of. I've heard it's bad to sleep on one's stomach, and right now it's definitely hard to breathe that way.

11:07PM
Decided to put my large, long, puffy green jacket over the rest of my ensemble. Hoping this helps induce sweat. The cat's looking at me funny. I think he thinks I'm leaving. He doesn't like it when nobody's home. At least that's what I like to think.

11:09PM
I feel like the Pillsbury Doughboy. Time to surf the web because I have ADD. I've found a new site.

The host of Press Your Luck died this week. In a small plane crash. Guess he finally hit that whammy.

11:14PM
I should probably finish this tea. It's not so hot anymore. I'm not sweating and I don't want soup, but I promised the acupunturist that I'd have soup when I finish drinking. Must finish drinking.

11:15PM
I love that the cat can sleep through anything. Even a dog barking outside.

11:16PM
Went back to Dead or Alive. I just can't get enough.
She's dead.
He's dead.
And so is she. This is depressing. I think it's time to read, or sweat, whichever comes first.

Ever want to do adult?

Sidenote: The girl appearing with me in this picture has never wanted to do adult.

So I made a quick call to an old acquaintance today, who reminded me that if I need to get something done, the best thing to do is put it on the blog, and then ask people to link to it. Sometimes I forget the power of this Internet thing. Okay, here goes.

I'm casting for an adult erotic video to be shot in New York City (or very nearby) the first full week in April. The director is Candida Royalle, a well known pioneer in the field of erotic cinema, and she's got a certain large percentage of the market when it comes to couples friendly and women friendly erotica.

This is going to be a BIG production, meaning that it's guaranteed international distribution. I still need one male lead, preferably well endowed - not my preference, but the preference for the movie and then the following female leads...

Girl - In her late 20's, 30's or 40's. Must be able to act her way out of a paper bag but doesn't have to worry about winning an Academy Award, although there's always an AVN award. This role calls for someone who looks somewhat conservative on the outside, but really likes to get down on the inside. This character will be involved in one sex scene, and it will be with a man of (hopefully) significant proportion.

Girl - Again, same age range, same acting ability, only this character is a dominatrix who takes her work very seriously. Her sex scene will be with another woman, and she must actually like being with women.

Butch Girl - Acting required once more. Preferably a woman who looks mid - late 30s. Must be attractive, yet have that certain edge that makes her tough. She will be the other woman in the dominatrix scene.

Girl - Acting out of a paper bag again a necessity. Mid - late 20s or above. A roving reporter who's always interested in getting the scoop. She will have a scene with another man and a woman, which I guess in technical terms is called a threeway.

Girl - At least 35 years in age (or has to look over 25), preferably even older. She is an established writer figure. Will be invovled in that threeway scene mentioned above. And did I mention, she must have the ability to remember and return lines as if she's not reading them?

Girl - Anything goes with this one. She's got a solo scene with toys! And yes, she's got words too!

Serious inquiries only. Should be in the New York area at least from April 5-10, 2006.

Email me at hottwax@gmail.com

And yes, I am serious, very serious, and yes, you should reply as soon as possible if you're interested. With pictures. And a contact number.

An open letter to Mister Softee

Dear Mister Softee,

It's only March 13th and the not so delicate sounds of your ice cream truck are wafting out my window. I first saw you at approximately 6:21 this evening, as I walked quietly up my front steps. This can't be, I thought to myself, looking up at the third floor window where I happily reside. It's too soon, I felt my heart fill with panic. Not yet. How could this be happening? As thought's of horrible things that could happen to a Mister Softee, not unlike yourself, scurried through my brain, I scurried up the steps. I had to share the bad news.

Think about it. You could be savagely attacked by a gang of rabid chocoholics. Or, a child over hyped on sugar, could take a bite out of your arm, mistaking it for one of those yummy sugar cones. Maybe some neighborhood gang will try to make you a member, and then you'll have to scurry away before they initiate you, and since you'll have to leave quietly, there's no way you can play that godforsaken music.

It's not ice cream season, although apparently it is. How? What? When? Why did this happen? Should I blame it on global warming? I mean there is no rhyme or reason for the unseasonably warm weather New Yorkers are feeling this early in March, so could it be, that they let you go from park to drive a tad bit earlier this year? Is that what's happened to you Mister Softee? Has winter been so hard? Hard..hmm..that reminds me, Mister Softee, how did you get that name? Does it have something to do with your performance outside of the truck? If so, I can refer you to some excellent materials.

Let me ask you this, what exactly is that ideal temperature for a Mister Softee? What average temperature allows you to don your ice cream cone cap and red bowtie? How do you get children who haven't thought about you all winter creaming for ice? Funny thing is, winter isn't over yet. So why are you selling ice cream in the winter? I know it's warm here, but that doesn't mean you should be out yet. I guess there's something about 60 degree weather that makes Mr. Softee break out of his winter ho hum and shine like the superstar that the neighborhood children make him believe that he is. Is that it Mister Softee? Do you like being the center of attention? What is it that makes you tick?

Speaking of ticks, what's up with the damn music? I mean, I know it gets the attention of the neighborhood yokels, but for those of us who don't scream for ice cream, it's unfair to have to hear it. It's not cool that it sticks in our heads, pours through our walls and windows and continues until the sun goes down. I don't care how happy you make the neighborhood children who yearn for your sweets, you're not making me happy.

So drop the music Mister Softee. Drop it NOW.

No clever title, no clever post

I'm physically sick, as in less healthy than I've been in a long time. I've been going to acupuncture to help fix my energy, and we're working on my ear, and I just started this tea to get rid of whatever blockage may be in there, and I'm thinking that maybe this really bad stuffy head cold is from that. If it is, I'm totally psyched, because then I can believe that my ear might be healing. And if it's not, well, then, it sucks to be sick. And until I know, or either way, a dab of vaseline on the nose at makes the redness go down.

Now, from a totally beautiful book out of Germany. This is about where babies come from. You have to keep clicking on the pages in order for them to turn. Why can't we teach sex education like this in America? I bet you that in the United States this book would be banned. Or have an R rating if books could get ratings. I mean this is as cartoonishly close to the real thing as I've seen in print. And even though I love the cult classic, "Where do I Come From?" this takes the cake.

And now, if I had a copy of this book, and it could put Vaseline on my nose, I'd take it to bed with me. Every night. At least until this cold went away.

Tenn - uh - see

South Dakota and the Domino effect.

From the Associated Press:

NASHVILLE, Tenn. — The state Senate on Thursday passed a proposal to amend the Tennessee Constitution so that it doesn't guarantee a woman's right to an abortion.

Can't say this is a big surprise because it's not. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, and yet another state, who hasn't been in the news all that much in perhaps, oh, forever, has decided to up the ante. Of course this one is going to take a while, it will have to be approved at least two more times over the next two years, and then it will go to the voters (which, if you remember, is not the way South Dakota did things).

Still, this is all part of the national sweep to draw attention to the now infamous 1973 decision in Roe v. Wade.

I blogged more about South Dakota for Soudish, since I can't seem to get enough of the fact that being denied the right to choose is losing freedom of choice and that's just as big a deal to me, as abortion is to religious zealots across the country.

Staying on the woman wagon:
THIS IS YOUR LIFE (IF YOU ARE A WOMAN)
The Independent, March 8, 2006

1% of the titled land in the world is owned by women

70% of the 1.2 bn people living in poverty are women and children

21% of the world's managers are female

62% of unpaid family workers are female

Women comprise 55% of the world's population aged over 60 years old and 65%
of those aged over 80

85m girls worldwide are unable to attend school, compared with 45m boys. In
Chad, just 4% of girls go to school.

700,000,000 women are without adequate food, water, sanitation, health care
or education (compared with 400,000,000 men)

Women in full-time jobs earn an average 17% less than British men

Women in part-time jobs earn an average 42% less than British men

67% of all illiterate adults are women

1,440 women die each day during childbirth (a rate of one death every
minute)

1 in 7 women in Ethiopia die in pregnancy or childbirth (it is one in 19,000
in Britain)

In the US, 35% of lawyers are women but just 5% are partners in law firms

In the EU, women comprise 3% of chief execs of major companies

12 is the number of world leaders who are women (out of 191 members of the
United Nations)

Men directed 9 out of every 10 films made in 2004

And then another interesting article about censorship appeared in the op-ed pages of yesterday's NY Times.

Exporting censorship is about the company Secure Computing, creator of the Smartfilter, and how they are helping countries block access to a ridiculous number of sites, but effectively blocking them from looking up any site about sex education, relationships, gay and lesbian dating, things like that. It depends on the country, but the fact that this is happening is appalling.

The Power of Myth

The cat thinks he's human, or maybe he just thinks we're all cats.

My boyfriend sits on the chair in our bedroom and asks me if I believe in Atlantis, the lost continent buried deep under the sea.

"Why not?" I ask back, thinking about the other things I've come to believe over the course of the past few years. Things like alien life visiting Earthbound friends, the possibility of the end of the world in my lifetime, and the fact that I deserve true love.

"I just don't buy it," he says.

"Do you believe in the Garden of Eden?" I ask.

"I believe that the Fertile Crescent was the Garden of Eden. But it wasn't a garden, at all. The Garden of Eden is a symbol of living harmoniously with nature as they did in tribalism. But I don't believe there was an actual garden. And I don't believe there was an actual Adam and Eve. I mean it's just myth."

"Can't you believe in a myth?," I wonder. "Don't you ever get the urge to know if the myths you believe are true?"

Which leads us into a discussion about debunking myth, and we both agree that it's best to leave well enough alone. Like in the case of Al Capone's vault, had the myth of what was inside been kept a secret, Geraldo Rivera might have had an easier time having people believe he was a legitimate journalist. But once the safe was blown open, Geraldo found nothing, not even a pair of Capone's soiled panties (although I'm not sure why Capone would have ever kept of pair of those in there anyway, except for perhaps sh-ts and giggles). Regardless, Rivera became a household word for, well, nothing.

My point is that sometimes myths are better left as myths. They have more power this way. So, maybe there is a lost continet buried deep under the Pacific Ocean, and maybe there was an Adam who happened to screw with an Eve, and they happened to enjoy trips to some garden a really long time ago. Truth is, I don't want to know.

I just want to believe.

NY Timesing It

I just started subscribing to the New York Times. I can't read long newsy articles online, they make my eyes go loopy, and for the last few months I've been feeling out of touch with reality. I didn't want to be so out of date any longer, so now I'm getting home delivery, for some really cheap price. Unfortunately the last two days my carrier decided to give the paper to my neighbors, and upon realizing that they may have been recieving it, I appropriately began stealing it back, but, alas, this morning I found the nicely wrapped blue plastic bundle happily waiting for me at my front door.

The best thing I've learned over the past few days reading the Times is that there's a term for men who marry women to suppress their real desire and love for men. It's called a Mixed Orientation Marriage. I don't know if this would apply to women who marry men to suppress their love for women, because for some reason, the stigma doesn't seem to go the other way, but I assume it would.

Which reminds me of a few years ago. When one of those we-can-convert-homosexuals websites spokespeople got busted for failing to convert (even though he married a former lesbian, he was eventually caught at a gay bar picking up other, gasp, men), which only goes to prove you are what you are, even if that means you like both men and women. Oddly enough, most critics of the male version of mixed orientation marriages do believe that the man is gay, not bisexual, but gay if he has an attraction to men. I'm not all that into this definitive stance, as I do think men can sincerely love and be attracted to women, even if the way they want to love them is different. For example, a man may not want his woman to dress in leather chaps and a lasso, while he may want his male partner to do just that. I don't think chaps and a lasso are so sexy on a woman, but on a man, I totally buy it. It's not a gay thing, it just is what it is.

Lets see, what else did I discover in the times? Well, Trader Joes is opening in NYC on March 17th. This is very exciting, because I like Trader Joes. Okay, fine I had nothing all that exciting to say about it. Had I bought the apartment I almost bought over a year ago, besides the fact that I would have had to move because it would have been too small for two people and a cat, I would have been a block from the location of TJs. That would have been cool. But would have been's aren't there anymore, they just lay on the floor til we sweep them away.

I think it's time for me to go someplace. Anyplace. I haven't been out in weeks. Especially since I'm quoting Neil and Babs (well, not quoting, just using some of their words).

Did I mention I just subscribed to the NY Times?

Am I hot?

Don't answer that question. Well, I mean, you can if you really want to, but I'm not expecting you to :)

Yes. South Dakota passed the abortion ban bill. If you want to help do something about it, click here. I don't know how much these things help, honestly, but at this point I don't know what else to do. I podcasted about the issue here. It's not something that will take effect for a few months, but the fact that it might actually take effect is f***ed up enough. Now, speaking of messed up things.

Are you hot? Are you normal? These are the sidebars I notice when I'm looking at my email account through google - yes email + google (I'm picturing that Sesame Street segment where they bring two sounds together to make a word) = gmail. Normally, I like my email provider, but they've got me thinking...What? Why? How did we come to this? And, I already know I'm not normal, so what are you going to do about it?

I know, I know, these types of ads and tests have been around for like ever, I remember the site, hotornot, but still, I don't want to believe it. (Fingers in ears - I'm not listening, I'm not listening. Can you hear me now, cause I'm not listening).

I don't want to be judged by anyone I don't know. I'm already judged by the people I do know, or the people who think that they know me, and I'm sick of constantly being judged, and yes, also judging others. (Guilty). I'm only human. Is there a test out there to find out how human one truly is? Not that I'd take that test either, because I wouldn't, but I just figured with all the other tests out there, surely there's one to determine how human someone is, and probably more people are less human than we think. I just think the world would be a groovier place (hippy in me coming out, must suppress) if we all learned to be truly happy for each other and not jealous or judgemental. Which brings me to a little story from years ago.

It's time to make a confession, one that I'm not proud of, and one that I'm afraid you'll judge me for. Okay. Deep breathe.

Another deep breathe.

I think I'm ready.

In college, more heavy, er, I mean deep breathing...

I ..............was .............in ............a........................... sorority.

Yes, once, a long time ago I wore the greek letters of Alpha Xi something or other (okay, yeah, I obviously know what it is, but that's not important, is it)? I might now lose points in your self respect book, but try not to judge. I have more more to say here.

1. With one or two exceptions, the only people I still speak to were also members of the sorority.
2. One year after pledging (getting initiated) I was no longer very involved in the sorority.

Actually, the President of the sorority, who also happened to be my little sister which will only mean something if you know anything about sororities, asked me to stop coming to Rush events (that's where you "recruit" new members) because I refused to vote on who could or couldn't be part of my group. So, by the end of junior year, and might I remind you I was studying abroad in Rockhampton, Australia the first half of the year, I was out of the same sorority I had been in a year before. I'm not proud of the fact that I felt the need to be accepted by a group of women who call themselves sisters, but I share it to let you know, I didn't want to judge then and I'm so done with judging now.

I don't care about these online tests to determine my hottness factor or just how typical someone else might think I am, but I hate that they're out there. The people who made these tests are not hot and obvioulsy way too normal. The people who made these tests are people that would obviously be banished to Stupidia (see Beware the Ides of March) along with the government of South Dakota. Besides, I don't want to be normal!!! Did you hear me google-ad-test-thingy? I don't want you to tell me if I'm hot or not. I spent many ugly years growing up Gotti, oh, no, that's not what I meant. I spent many chunky, double chinned, years growing up in Suburbia fully aware that I wasn't the hottest girl in the room, and now I'm not going to go so shallow as to let you, or other people who see any damn picture I decide to post, tell me if I could be the next Miss America (I couldn't, I have no talent that could be broadcast on national TV).

And now, your royal hotness (that's me) has more typical things to do with her time. Please, if you can help it, hotness and normal tests, don't pop up in my inbox anytime soon. I bite. Let that be your warning.

Mattering

Tonight. Sexy Spirits. 7:15PM - 301 W. 55th St. New York, NY.

It's not easy to write something regularly that really interests everybody. If you happen to blog approximately 275 days of the year, that's a lot of days to have to come up with something fresh and interesting to say. Or you have to look at a lot of other people's sites in order to have lots of fresh and interesting things to link to. Either way, I'm not that kind of girl, and when I started this blog, I was single, looking to improve my writing skills, and looking even harder to improve my chances of getting laid. I wrote a lot about my dating life and the freaks and weirdos that I would usually go out with. I contemplated ever finding love and thought that maybe I would just be one of those happily single, crazy-haired, cat ladies. And although I liked relationships, I wasn't too concerned with finding 'the one.' I was just happy finding the one who would stay around for at least a few weeks.

And then it happened. And he didn't only stay a few weeks, he actually moved in with me. And then we took in a foster cat with particularly smelly breath (at least his breath is really smelly this morning), and we became a unit, and we work and function that way. And he's more than eveything I could have asked for, but this makes for a boring blog, and maybe that's why I started to think about what I write. So now that I don't have the single in the city angle that tends to attract the most readers to a site, what can I do to matter?

It's a question I've been asking myself a lot. See, I'm in a field with a lot of other strong, smart and sexy women, and we're all trying to do the same thing, which is talking about sex in an acceptable and free manner. A lot of the others have published some sort of book, or made a video, or a statement, that has brought them into the spotlight, but I've spent most of my career helping others get ahead. A few years back, when I decided to take the plunge and leave the producer in me behind, I had to leave town in order to return again. Well, at least to come back to not having to take any producing job I was offered. (Although I still produce because lack of money scares me, but that's neither here nor there)...And it's been a slow and gradual transition. More people see me as a sexpert or sexplorer (the term I prefer) than a freelance producer, but have I done anything that matters?

God, that sounds so egotistical. I mean, who am I to even care if what I do makes a difference? I should just be doing anyway. I mean who is anybody, really. But that's some philosophical woo-hoo, and I'm not all that philosophical today. And I'm not in a bad space AT ALL, but I just want to make sure that I don't care if I matter, even though I'd like to matter anyway. Look, I'm chasing my tail. Okay. Stop.

Reese Witherspoon, upon accepting her Academy Award for Best Actress, mentioned that she wanted to make sure she did something that matters, and that now she felt as if she did. This got me thinking about doing the same. I'm going to keep blogging, because it helps with my writing, and it's a good place to get my thoughts out, and truthfully I just love doing it. But I want to help do more to make people feel good, to appreciate their bodies, to enjoy sex and to learn, love and laugh. I'm not upset that I'm no longer the belle of the ball (sac), *I have no idea what that means, but I needed to put some sick, twisted humor into this entry but I want to make sure that I'm not becoming a boring, middle aged houselady with one bad breathed foster cat either. I just want to talk about sex. And sometimes about life. And how they both change so much and so often.

I don't know what my point is, outside of wanting to matter. Just so I don't feel like I'm living to go through the motions.

Beware the Ides of March and other Stupidity

From Wired News today.
By Carey Gillam

"KANSAS CITY, Missouri (Reuters) - U.S. abortion-rights defenders and opponents are preparing for battle as South Dakota Gov. Mike Rounds considers whether to sign a state abortion ban that advocates hope will lead to a national Supreme Court showdown.

The Republican governor has until March 15 to sign or veto a bill passed by the state legislature on February 24 which would ban abortions in all circumstances. Amid wide expectations he will sign it, abortion-rights supporters are preparing lawsuits and warning legislators of repercussions come mid-term elections in November.

The South Dakota legislation would ban abortion in all cases and at all stages of pregnancy, even within the first few weeks. Doctors who perform an abortion could be punished with a $5,000 fine and five years in prison. In cases where a woman's life is in jeopardy, doctors who take medical action to try to save the pregnant woman must also "make reasonable medical effort" to save the life of the fetus under the law. If the fetus suffers "accidental or unintentional injury or death" the law states it will not be considered a violation."
*****************************************************************'******************************************************************
At this point, I'm just keeping you updated on what's happening. I've already given my two cents on this one, so all I will say is MY BODY, MY RIGHTS. Why is that so hard to understand?

I'm exhausted. From thinking too hard about the stupidity of parts of this country. Why can't New York's ports be controlled by a company in the U.S. that needs work? Why are we seeking foreign assistance for our protection when the government seems to think it knows the best way for a woman to protect her own body? How safe can someone feel if they don't have the right to decide what happens to their body, let alone who's controlling some of the most important seaports in the country?

I dunno. I always had a problem working in an office, because with few exceptions, I hated how many dumb people ran companies. I hated reporting to bosses that didn't get it, bosses that tried to make me feel inferior because they were too damn stupid. And then we have a President and other government officials who share the same monkey brains as, well, actually I don't want to insult monkeys, so maybe I should say, they share the same brains as those rats that infest the subway, only the rats know when to scuttle away to avoid being hit by an oncoming subway car, and I can't say that I have faith that Bush, and some of his cronies, would do the same.

I'm just fed up with the stupidity of people in charge of lots of big, important things. The privileged few get away with way too much, while the rest of the people have to suffer for their stupidity. Why can't stupid people just form a colony and go play by their stupid selves? They can have stupid babies that constantly hurt themselves by doing stupid things, and they can applaud them for their stupid efforts. They can stick their fingers in electrical outlets after running them under cold water. They can eat the yellow snow, or whatever foods stupid people like to eat. They can ban abortions and control each other. And they can hire whomever they want to protect their stupid fortresses.

We could call the colony Stupidia, and members will have to prove they have no brains by answering a series of questions that any smart person would refuse to answer. And then perhaps, while all the stupid people are trying to control things in their stupid way, the rest of us can learn to live in a much safer space.

Skirts over Pants Go Home

First. Monday night I'll be doing a Q & A at Sexy Spirits. If you come by, you can ask me anything, much to my father's chagrin.

Now, I just have to say one thing about this supposed "return to modesty" when it comes to fashion. Marc Jacobs, who for the fashionably challenged like myself, is some really big deal in the world of clothing design, is showcasing his new skirts over pants look, and all I have to say is "been there, done that." In fact I got so much slack just a few years back for wearing skirts over pants, that I can't help but laugh about it's being en vogue. When will I stop being ahead of the times? Or, more importantly, when will I stop bragging about it?

March 01

In like a lion, out like a lioness with cubs to protect. That's how I predict this March to play out.

ROOOOOOOOoooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Feels good to roar, doesn't it?

Feels better than waking up at 6AM to take your grandmother for cataract surgey. She's doing well, btw. But taking your grandmother for cataract surgery feels good to, because I know I've helped her, especially since you can't have cataract surgery by yourself. They won't let you drive afterwards since you don't really see all that well. And it doesn't matter that I left her purse in the waiting room while I ran out for a few minutes. I mean, it was there when I returned, which was better than anything else that happened today, because if it hadn't been there I would have hated myself for a very long while. I mean, it was only a few weeks ago when I insisted she drive us the five blocks to her local diner, and she still managed to get in a car accident. As if that wasn't enough guilt (and trust me, it was, she was so visibly shaken the rest of the day, and the only thing that was hurt on the car was the front fender), had I lost her purse, with everything in it, I think I could have cried like a baby.

But this has nothing to do with sex. And I want to talk about sex.

Spending a day with my grandmother got me thinking about older people and sex. I'm talking older as in 70+. Do you think the more active an older person's sex life, the more likely they are to have abundant energy and a better memory?

I ask for personal reasons, but I'd love to know your thoughts for professional ones. My thought is yes, definitely the more sexually active you are, and the older you get, the more youthful you will look, act and feel.

But I'm just making this stuff up based on my own observations. Not that I think most surveys aren't similarly made up stuff, just questions answered by larger groups of people. So, let this be my survey.