TastyTrixie.com

Since I missed Half Nekkid Thursday last week, here’s a duo of half-nakedness (equal to whole nakedness?) to make up for it slightly:

Half Naked Rack of Trixie's Natural Boobs

It’s pretty rare that I wear thongs or g-strings, but when I do it makes me happy when they look this delicious:

Thong & Cameltoe from behind

You can check out other people’s Half Nekkid Thursday pics for this week here (links are in the comments).
There’s another sample photo from this gallery on Delia’s blog along with a hint of information about the video coming up; I think these tiny semi-sheer thong panties were a big hit with both of us! Members can see the whole gallery HERE in which I get fully naked and if you aren’t a member, you can JOIN HERE).

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My blogging goal today was to talk about my goals (or lack thereof) as a “photographer”, but I’m behind on almost everything a person could possibly be behind on. Still, I’m proud of myself for getting exercise every single day this week so far, and doing it in the morning before starting work. On top of that we’re forcing ourselves to go to sleep earlier and wake up at a normal time.

It’s hard to switch over when you’ve always been a night owl and you always thought the ideal schedule would be one where you stay up all night and sleep all day, but it’s not working with the dog, with our spycam viewers, with the errands we need to run, or even just with my sense of well-being. I wind up feeling so behind even when I wake up at ten – by the time I’ve done what I need to do to start my day off on the right foot (and I’m discovering that is *exercise* right after breakfast) and run errands and then had lunch, the day feels like it’s shot and night is falling.

Living so much on the internet has a profound effect, too. If I’m just settling into work when everyone on twitter has gone to sleep or is in front of their televisions, I feel really out of it. It’s also bad from a promotional perspective if everybody is asleep or nobody is paying attention to their feeds or anything when I’m posting my fresh stuff. On the other hand, I’d like to escape a lot of the immediacy and hyperfast interaction of the internet; there are things I love about that, but I just don’t have the energy or personality to sustain so much NOWness with so many people. I need to be working on being in the now with just myself, or at most myself, Delia and our dog.

Mostly I just had such a great week last month when I was naturally waking up early and exercising that I want to replicate that experience. I hope once my body adjusts and I maintain some consistency doing the things that make me feel good, like I’m operating at peak performance for a stretch of time, that I’ll also get more work done, too. Lately I’ve mostly been revelling in accepting the knowledge that on any given day I cannot do everything. Today I’ve felt wiped out, I think because of the exercise and my body just trying to catch up with itself and recover from a (relatively mild) migraine on Tuesday. Seriously, I pooped three times today – my body is working on some important business.

In the next week or two I’m going to continue working on adjusting other parts of my day and priorities based on the foundation of having amazing mornings, and by spring should be in some good habits and good shape!

Tomorrow Delia’s going to be in front of me and the camera wearing a kinky bodystocking for a Valentine shoot so I know I am going to accomplish at least two awesome things on Friday: having an amazing morning and shooting some hot porn!

Nico is getting senile. We think her vision and hearing have both become impaired. The good part is she seems in good spirits most of the time. I guess it’s both fortunate and unfortunate that she wants to go in and out of the house about fifty times a day and has taken to WHINING and barking madly if we don’t comply with these requests. You think fifty is an exaggeration? Okay, at least twenty-five times a day. AT LEAST. It’s insane.

Sometimes I do lose my patience with her and feel so frustrated not knowing if it’s our fault for giving in to her or if she has genuine need (or perceived need) to go outside so often. This morning after she woke Delia up WAY too early to let her out and back in she then ate and pooped on the floor. She never does that (poops inside). I think she’s just totally confused and can’t get comfortable so she paces around. Then when she goes outside her rope gets hung up on rocks or stiff tufts of grass and for some reason she can’t pull free of those tiny hangups anymore and just starts going apeshit for  us to come out and rescue her.

Lately she can’t find the doors she wants and we’ll see her in the bedroom waiting at the closet door or the bathroom door (this makes no sense). Last night she was stumbling around in the dark doing god only knows what. This makes me wonder if it’s not really a vision problem, but something else; if it were her vision, wouldn’t she still have the layout of the house memorized?

So I asked Delia, “do dogs get Alzheimer’s?”

Delia’s response: “no, but they do get Barkinson’s.”

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In other mundane, un-sexy news of real life, we had to take one of our beater cars to the shop today. It is going to cost over $900 to fix it. We can’t afford it, but the main reason I felt compelled to go ahead with the repairs is that we’ve been really lucky with our vehicles for the past couple of years (aside from getting pulled over for having a stolen car, but that’s a totally different story) so I felt like it was time to pay tribute to the gods of car or whatever. We got this car for free and it should continue running reliably after this so . . . yeah. Goodbye, thousand dollars. Or rather, “hello, maxed out credit card that I was trying to clear room on to pay taxes”.

I also found out my mom went to the hospital last night. She’s (relatively) fine — it was an anxiety attack. One of those things we know is a serious problem for her but that she is in denial about. The only treatment she’s ever had for it was years ago when her way of describing the problem was that she had trouble sleeping. So our pill-happy family doc/gp prescribed her Xanax. Which she became addicted to.

Fortunately she kicked that addiction all on her own. Unfortunately, she has never talked much about that and never did anything else that I know of to deal with her problems that she doesn’t really acknowledge. It’s not that my mom is reluctant to talk, or to talk about problems, but getting to the root of matters and deciding to make really important changes that start with herself? Not so much. Instead she’ll be like, “if I could just catch my breath for a couple of days and get that goddamned garage cleaned out it would help so much!”

How do you get a woman to realize that her problems go ever so much deeper than A FUCKING GARAGE? You can try, but it’s extremely ineffective.

So last night at the hospital she was prescribed Ativan. An anti-anxiety med that’s even MORE addictive than Xanax! And the doctor flat-out lied to her about what it was. He said it was a muscle relaxer she should take when she’s feeling dizzy.

Someone tell me again why pot and prostitution are illegal. I think someone misfiled RATIONAL THOUGHT in this country.

Anyway, I have a billion related and unrelated thoughts on this stuff and life in general and my direction in life and wants and desires and loves and blessings, small and large, and ways I’ve been ministered to online and off in beautiful ways and inspirations and insecurities and religion and porn and coming out and staying in and spycam projects and activism and writing and music and dancing BUT there are so many awesome books and six feet of girlfriend to go to bed with that I’ll leave it at that.

I’ve got a new thing on our spycam and chat schedule: playing piano for half an hour on our spycams the last Sunday night of the month (tonight!) and chatting afterward.

It’s not a “concert” or a “show” and as with everything on our cams that’s not pay-by-the-minute, I won’t be taking requests. I probably won’t expose my genitals or fondle myself in an erotic manner, however it will be intimate. To me.

Members click here and head to SpyOnYou to watch/listen/chat. Stardust Piano Hour starts at 7 pm Pacific.

If you aren’t a member, but want to become one, JOIN HERE.

Note: the audio is via spycam broadcast, so not high fidelity / stereo/cd quality.

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We went to a Christmas party last month, new attendants in the middle of an old crowd where it’s traditional to sing The Twelve Days of Christmas and other songs and carols. Our friend was getting fed up with trying to accompany on the hosts’ keyboard, so I stepped in,  sat down and enjoyed it. It’s been SO LONG since I played piano in a room full of people.

I’m no virtuoso at playing piano and am really not good by pianist standards but I realized something at that party: I  am good ENOUGH that I shouldn’t avoid playing just because I know that I could be better or because people are better than I am or because there are so many beautiful and amazing things I *can’t* do or haven’t learned or practiced.

I have focused so much energy on cringing with shame over the things I can’t do that I *should* be able to do; I should be able to play by ear better, I should be able to sit down with a band and jam, I should have a whole repertoire of songs that I know by heart (actually, I should be embarrassed that I actually have never learned one. SINGLE. song by heart), all of my fingers should be equally strong and skilled, I should stop using the pedal so much to compensate for having small hands,  I make mistakes that hurt my ears, blah blah fucking blah. Oh god I would suck as a piano duelist!!

Here’s the thing, though. I was still the best piano player at that party. And unless every party I went to was a party for musicians only, that would frequently be the case.

How many people really know how to play piano? How many people in the world can actually play *better* than I can? What percentage of humans do I actually play *better* than? Why do I focus on the wrong things?

I don’t think the problem is that I really that I want to be the best at anything (I believe in the healing power of crystals and that Jesus Christ rose from the dead more than I believe it’s possible for me to come within sight of being the best at anything), but when I compare myself to people who do things excellently, what I can do with mediocrity seems useless. If there are lots of people doing something better than I do it, what’s the point of me wasting time on it? What can I contribute with my half-assedness? I guess the answer has always felt obvious to me: NOTHING. All that can be accomplished is embarrassment and time wasted on me that would’ve been better spent listening to someone do it better.

What a crock of negative shit!

I’m practicing to undo that crappy mindset of mine that’s plagued me with pretty much everything I do, that feeling that if I can’t excel at something and be in the top 5% at it, that I’m only be humiliating myself to spend time on it. As I get older I realize it’s asinine to think that *ANYthing* a person does can be more than mediocre. The only thing most of us can excel at is being ourselves, which is really only unique in a small very random sample so even “being myself” is a field with competition because we really are not so individually special. Except to ourselves. And our loved ones. And our communities that need our work and for us to try and to be where we’re at so maybe someone else can be the best in your own small circle.  So yeah. I’m going to let myself be special to myself. I want to tell my stories and use my voice and play songs and dance and stuff. And not throw away what I already know which is more than a whole lot of other people, even if it’s less than others. I want to stop thinking about who is better and who is worse. Instead I want to care about what I want, what makes me happy, what resources I have in the form of skills and interest and love. I want to care about what I what I want to get lost in and what is important. Music is one of those things.

So I’m going to play piano more, and even dare to let people hear me do it.

I need to stop thinking I should pick up the theremin so I don’t have to worry about the millions of people who are better at theramin playing than I am. I already know a lot about how to play the piano! If I want to play the theremin it should be because it’s totally fucking cool (and I want to make people fall in love with my hands), not because I’m afraid what I can already do (play piano) isn’t good enough.

We took a night off yesterday so I’m going to post this gallery tomorrow for members:

Hiding My Nakedness

We’re beginning a new tradition of taking one night off of work and the dog a month. For us, to get away from work, we actually have to leave the house, the webcams, the computers and the big camera. We board the dog at a nice farm-y kennel, and we get a room. Last month wasn’t as fun as this month because last time we did work while we were away and had to pack to shoot, get up early, etc.  / just one of the nights was “off”.

This time we didn’t have to pack ANYTHING except cozy clothes so getting out of the house was a lot easier and no-stress. We got a room at the Suquamish casino and arrived right before dusk with everything looking spooky and beautiful outside of the big windows of the hotel. We put on our bathing suits right away to take advantage of the swimming pool and hot tub.

Delia lounging by the pool

It was SO NICE! One of the benefits of staying at a casino in Washington (where it’s not really a destination for anything BUT gambling, unlike Vegas) must be that everyone else is at the tables and slot machines while the pool is totally EMPTY. We had the place all to ourselves, allowing Delia to shoot this upskirt shot while I read Wizard’s First Rule (as soon as I finish it we’re going to start watching Legend of the Seeker which I’ve been DYING to see; I’ve caught little pieces of it here and there, but wanted to watch it from the beginning with the background of having read the book):

Flashing my fantasy-loving twat by the pool.

We swam and we soaked, totally loving the big sunken hot tub outside. It was perfect with the cold winter air and rain in the dark, watching the drops fall in the water up to our chins. The only thing that sucked was not being able to be naked. It felt criminal, really — so unnatural and weird. How can you be outside in hot water at night breathing in all of that mist and wear a constricting swimsuit without feeling like a law is being broken? I don’t know. But it was worth it. I did consider taking my suit off, but it would have sucked to have gotten the boot with our evening barely started and I know I would’ve been nervous, looking around trying to be ready to frantically pull the fucker back on if anybody approached.

We totally overate while we were gone. The best thing we got was at Tizley’s Europub in Poulsbo this afternoon: their warm mustard-y German potato salad was delicious as fuck, and perfect with our bratwurst.

We were more than ready to come home and get back to work after barely being gone 24 hours, but the fucking bridge opened (meaning it CLOSED to vehicle traffic) right as we were about to head back so we went to “the fish park” to wait it out. I’m pretty sure that’s what the sign said, just “the fish park”. We enjoyed our little low tide stroll:

Romantic carvings at The Fish Park

Winter sky at The Fish Park

We Love Bats and Bat Houses!

I’m looking forward to whatever we decide to do on our February night off . . . maybe something involving less food and some museums or something like that. Or, better yet, some place with a hot tub outside where we’re allowed to be naked.

We shot a whole set of bushy pictures specifically to recreate one yummy vision of my bush visible beneath the hem of my short red skirt:

HNT: bush below short skirt from behind/bent over

I can’t overstate how fucking hot that image is. It could never get old/unsexy to me no matter how many variations of this pose and similar ensemble I were to be exposed to.

You can check out more Half Nekkid Thursday pics for this week here (links are in the comments).

Here are a few teaser thumbs to give you an idea of what the whole set is like up in my members-only area:

showing off my muff for members

I’m not hairy right at the moment, but I will be again (and in the meantime will shoot more “smooth” stuff for people who like it that way while also trying to keep things furry with stuff we shot during hairier times). I would like to get enough shaved content shot and queued up that I could have time to grow everything out again ALL THE WAY including my armpits and alternate between hairy and smooth updates because I am genuinely aroused by a variety of body hair “styles”.

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Note to members: we have camshows and members-only chat scheduled Friday – Saturday. Speaking of chat and cams, we’re in the process of making some slow improvements to our main spycam plugin. For now the only visible change is that we’re using “our” chatroom on that site now, so our members-only chats will be held there right on site. In the past that site was leased to other members-only areas so we weren’t able to “steal” their members by talking about our own sites. For now that’s not a problem.

In the long run we hope to have at least two or three different versions of that site (one for camgirls’ members, one for affiliates to promote and one non-compete version for leasing) and get the software and user interface improved to make it profitable again. We are still in the planning and fundraising stage and there are still quite a few unknown factors and variables. Overall, though, we’re very excited about the possibilities of realizing the long-overdue potential of our favorite adult spycam site. Fortunately we are not doing it alone; Mina and Joe are equally committed. UNfortunately, all of us are already attempting to do way too many jobs so we can’t focus nearly enough attention on this particular project.

Our spycam and behind-the-scenes portal for our members, SpyOnUs.com, for example, is now a big hot mess that I’m not sure how to fix. I hope to tidy up a few things before Saturday’s chat session, though.

How long can I feel this super groovy? I hope a looooong time! The memory/deja vu/hopeful-excited-magic feelings I mentioned last week are still here and I feel GREAT. So great that I’m almost worried that I’m losing my marbles and trying to figure out what to attribute these good feelings to.

Is it the B vitamins? The D’s? The pressure being lifted from IRS after being forced to resign myself to accepting and even embracing whatever bad things might happen? Our deliciously mild winter (that could fuck up the winter olympics in Vancouver if the Pacific Northwest doesn’t get more snow)? Getting rid of DirecTV and reading more and enjoying each other more? Our new sound therapy machine with the delta wave inducing sounds (I usually dream so much that I don’t get deep dreamless sleep: a symptom of low serotonin levels/depression)? Is it that I’ve lost some weight? Is it going to twelve-step meetings? Is it just that I’m reading more and I FUCKING LOVE TO READ?!?

I don’t know, but IT IS GOOD! So I’m going to try to enjoy it and not worry that there’s something wrong with me. Goes to show how unhealthy I’ve been for so long that when I feel terrific for more than three hours I think maybe the sky is falling.

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I picked up my new weighted hula hoop today for more high jinks on the spycams! I also have a bollycardio dvd that we rented which I’ve only gone through once and am looking forward to doing more of. It’s jolly/silly camwatching goodness.

Speaking of camwatching goodness, we enjoyed some fucking yesterday and I hope our voyeurs did, too.

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On Friday and Saturday we had a great visit with my sister, brother-in-law and nephews which contributed to my heightened sense of awareness and positivity. Hanging around a three year old and an easily-delighted baby with a huge grin and dimples is like bathing in a clarifying happiness. Music sounds better, everything looks newer and more interesting and mysterious, and I have an excuse to read books aloud that were read to ME when I was little.

And hey, on top of that there is all of this boundless LOVE. On top of just loving those little guys to pieces, the amount of unconditional love I get from them is totally amazing. I’m forced to love myself more just being around them, in part because they do not see flaws but also because I want to always model un-self-conscious confidence to them; they make me love  myself more.

Maybe that’s what’s going on with me lately . . . better brain chemistry. Getting better sleep. Getting rid of the television — maybe having more oxytocin like from being around my nephews and my sister, but also from cuddling Delia and really being TOGETHER in bed instead of just staring at the tube all of the time. Maybe I’m just being flooded with a lot of girl juice: the loving, bonding chemicals, not necessarily the sexy ones.

Cuddling never used to help me fall asleep — it was more something I liked to do for a few minutes BEFORE unsticking bodies and going to sleep on my own side of the bed. Bizarrely enough, I’m actually finally starting to understand how great if feels to fall asleep nestled up to Delia. If I get in her armpit with her arm around me and my nose on her upper tit, I now get an instant jolt of SOMETHING I’ve never had with anybody else. Seriously, it’s some kind of a drug injection that I do think has something to do with oxytocin. Whatever it is, it’s BLISS. Tranquilizing and emotionally/sensually stimulating all at the same time.

It’s still sort of weird and foreign to me so I mostly continue my years-entrenched habit of nestling into my own don’t-touch-me space to sleep, but I think I’m going to try to get more of that business more often. I might need to work on my initiation technique though which consists of awkwardly trying to lift her arm up and demanding she “let me in”.

A truly upper-half-naked animated webcam shot of me:

Oops! There goes my "shirt" . . .

You can check out more Half Nekkid Thursday pics for this week here (links are in the comments).

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A lot of people are remarking on the decline of porn as a money-making industry in the wake of the AVN awards and AEE (Adult Entertainment Expo which used to be called Internext when we went). I don’t agree with all of people’s pet theories and some of the observations are either wrong or irrelevant or both, but it’s true that the business model corporate porn and webcam sites are built on is not sustainable; it’s been a steady downward spiral ever since I started camming in the year 2000 but for reasons more complex than any of those “top five reasons” listed like “porn star hookers”, who have a sum total of zero impact on the profitability of porn, or, if anything, INCREASE its profitability.

As my webwhore years go by, I am more and more convinced that the really valuable, addictive, and marketable aspects of internet “porn” have nothing to do with quantity or technical quality or extreme degree of hardcore. I become more and more certain that the tiny, simple, grainy, daily, personal living intimacies are the only things that can possibly hold their value. Too bad they are made virtually invisible by the vast machinery of corporate porn and unrecognizable by the way people have been trained by industry standards and freebie jack-off habits (and devaluing porn whores to the point of giving live face time with them away for FREE) to not SEE it even when they do run across it. I’m not *completely* bashing corporate porn which in many ways is often delightful, just ruminating on how much more potent pixelated animated .gifs and lifecams continue to be for arousing the kind of attachments and naughty feelings that make people want to be lifetime members of a site and collectors of everything someone makes.

I would love to be able to maintain industry standards while also returning to emphasizing our live content and lo-fi personal stuff more, but it’s nearly impossible to attract any attention or have industry people take your work seriously if you aren’t making so much content that you’re able to give 75% of it away for free (and tolerate that the other 25% will be stolen). Instead of spending time being more creative and fucking and masturbating, I have to spend more and more time building “promos”, hoping to dump enough free stuff into the oceans of free stuff to get enough fans to sustain our work.

Note: I totally agree that online gaming and simplistic, yet addictive and time-consuming interactive this-and-thats are taking attention and money away from porn. If I could afford to hire programmers to make a mafia wars style “game” for our sites I think we’d be rolling in dough (I am seriously inspired by the fact that enough people pay to play those games to make them profitable – I’ve been learning a lot from studying the way those “games” work on people’s minds and wallets; those facebook/myspace games have no real value — none at all — yet people feel compelled to shell out oodles of time and money on them; fascinating! I can think of a bunch of ways to apply those principles to porn sites, but of course don’t have the time and money to implement them).

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I am late posting my update for members this week which makes me want to make it extra special, except the reason it’s late in the first place is that I didn’t feel like I had something the right degree of specialness to post on Monday. Mulling things over. And building promos in the meantime, of course.

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Good news: I called the IRS this morning and was reminded once again that GOVERNMENT BEAUROCRACY IS AWESOME. No, I’m not being sarcastic. When it comes to customer service, the people who work for the IRS are gold. They are ANGELS of mercy. TRULY HELPFUL. So our debt crisis is averted and for now we can keep making all of our payments on things (but obviously still need to magically make assloads more money by April).

Other good news: I don’t know if it’s the B vitamin shot I got on Monday or having my period and a cold or eating better or stretching and exercising or what the hell, but the past couple of nights I’ve wanted about three hours less sleep than usual and have been feeling GREAT (except for the cold symptoms).

In other words, life is good . . . all is well.