TastyTrixie.com

Archive for June, 2006

PIT-HAIR PICTURES

Full Gallery appearing now in my Members-Only area.
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I just posted 92 pictures from the first shoot I did with Michael Harkavy back in 2002. The pics he took are the best (and practically only) pictures of me with all of my hair completely grown-out, but back when my site was new I stupidly only posted seventeen of the pictures. Whether that was because I was embarrassed of how my stretch marks looked in these photos, or because of the difficulty in editing the photos (he burned them in .nef format which made each picture, like, a billion megabytes), or more probably because I didn’t yet grasp the importance of QUANTITY on a porn site, I figure it is now time to resurrect them (especially since I’ll be shaving next month).

Funny how shaving becomes a huge event when you’re a porn-chick who usually *doesn’t* shave.

Today I have a couple of shows (one at five pacific on SCC and one at ten pacific on camz), but before that I’ll be shooting a set of Delia and trying to do a bunch more geek work to increase our traffic (as I’ve been doing the last few days). And right now I’m hungry but waiting for Tucker to be done tidying up in the bedroom for the shoot. I like to eat my morning toast and drink my morning tea with quiet and absolutely no distractions. Of course, I could go in and help him get the job done faster but I’d probably only get in the way of his “vision”.

FLATTERY & A RIDE
Our car’s still broke down***. In fact, we don’t even know what’s wrong with it yet because our mechanic is all backed up.

*** Writing this I realize that maybe the correct term is “broken down” but I honestly have only ever said, “broke down”. Our car not only broke down, our car *is* BROKE DOWN. I’ll bet people who say “brokedown” probably have more breakdowns than people who say “broken”. It just goes with the territory

Anyway, as a result of our car being broke down, I (almost) had to walk all the way to the bank today. Fortunately our neighbor happened to be leaving right as I began my walk and she offered to give me a ride. We hardly ever talk to our neighbors — in fact, the only time we’ve really talked to this lady is when we had to confront her about busting one of our windows when she was mowing the gravel across from our house. She seems like a cool retiree and I can never remember her name so I could only greet her today by saying, “hey, beautiful!” and hopping into her car.

First she complimented me on how good I smelled, and then we started talking about age. She remarked that I “couldn’t even be twenty”. Of course when I told her I’m thirty-three she flattered me with protestations and disbelief. I ate it up. The ride to the bank was entirely too short.

*****

FYI: the spycam site came back up not long after I made my previous post.

CAMS DOWN
The tech guy is working on the server hosting our spycams and all of our bonus plugin content, but I wanted to make a quick post and let *YOU* know that *I* know it’s down and should be up soon. Of course, our HouseCamz are still up for those of you who are SpyOnUs members.

I *might* be logging in for phone sex later today . . . more on that later.

BADLY BENT
So . . . our car broke down again today. This might not be a big deal if not for having a new nephew across the water that I really want to visit OFTEN *and* having less money to get it fixed *and* having just spent money for a gym membership that I won’t be able to use without transportation. Oh well, something will work out. It’s kind of twisted, but part of me thrives on the thrill of teetering on the brink of disaster. It’s just so . . . FUN when you extricate yourself from a mess!

If you saw me on cam yesterday making hideous faces, I was trying to record little introductory messages for certain promotional doorway pages for my site (like this and this and a few others). It was harder than I thought it would be and wound up feeling like torture. There’s nothing like listening to my own voice to bring out every insecurity I have. I know I shouldn’t remark on these insecurities and highlight them for people who might not otherwise recognize them, but I felt like I had to explain those frightening faces I was making. I should have kept all of the clips I discarded for an embarrassing blooper roll.

Tonight I started going through some of my oldest galleries, the ones I posted before the hands-free slideshow came into effect . . . the ones where I thought a handful of smallish pictures was enough to make a good gallery in the days before I realized how important “quantity” is in the world of internet porn. I started re-editing some of those pics and adding some photos that I initially left out so I’ll be posting some redone galleries in the near future.

STRAY SOCKS
As we got out of our car in the grocery store parking lot Tucker asked me if I “wanted a sock”. He indicated a slack grey sweat sock someone abandoned on the concrete.

As usual, I answered his joking question with the utmost seriousness, telling him, “no — someone probably jerked off into it!”

Tucker laughed at me like yeah, because everyone jerks off into socks! He acted like my perverted hyperactive imagination concocted this bizarre probability out of thin air, a reflection not of reality but of my own depraved twistings of human sexuality illustrating my own fiendishly fantastic worldview where males are always trying to do “up and over” and stick their penises into shampoo bottles and toilet paper rolls whenever we women aren’t looking.

Seriously though, why else would one sock be sitting alone in a parking lot as though dumped hastily out of a car? You don’t just lose a long sock in a grocery store parking lot! No, you sit in your car jerking off looking at the housewives and the latest edition of Maxim, or have your girlfriend toss you off late at night after a beer run. The sock is for easy cleanup because you are the fastidious type or maybe your girlfriend doesn’t like to get it on her hands. That doesn’t seem far fetched at all compared to a sock sitting in a parking lot with absolutely NO explanation. I really think a stray sock in public requires an explanation, it doesn’t just fly off one’s foot. A sock in a ditch is as telling as a pair of panties, I think.

But maybe I *am* totally perverted. Listening to myself, a woman, stubbornly asserting to a man that OTHER men do jerk off into socks ALL THE TIME (even sitting in grocery store parking lots) is sort of . . . crazy. Maybe even “fuckin’” crazy. Maybe I sound like a sex predator who’s convinced women “want it bad” all of the time. That women are sex crazed nymphos and “no” really means “yes”. That there is no innocent article of discarded clothing, that they all have a sexual history and a fluid connection to someone’s genitals.

Has my immersion in fetishism done this to me? That a shoe is not just a shoe but a smelly five-toed-phallus container/vagina and that everything with an opening is destined to be filled by men’s meat and emissions? Or maybe I just remember my high school friend telling me that she jerked her boyfriend off with a sock all the time — those tidbits of teenage sex had a big impact on me, probably more exquisitely than they would have if I’d been having my own teenaged sex. Instead I had to cling to the little details she would share with me. When she pointed out a broken pipe rhythmically puking out water and informed me that was precisely how cum left a dick. When she refused to share any details of losing her virginity because that was too “special” to tell anyone about, not even WHERE they did it. When she held out her finger and pushed its skin up and down to try to demonstrate to me the stiffness of an erect penis and the mobility of its skin. When she had a dream about her horse.

Apparently I still cherish the memories. Memories of sex someone else had.

TEMPERATURE’S RISING
Yesterday the air was nearly-hot and heavy — after our shows we wound up in bed naked with our limbs spread out trying to keep from touching our own skin. Somehow we wound up touching each OTHER’S skin, probably inspired by our nudity and the awareness of each other. We had a nice warm lazy-afternoon fuck and spent most of the day just enjoying the sunshine and each other (along with some junk food and television and a yummy steak Tucker grilled outside accompanied by corn on the cob).

It’s usually the simple things that make us love each other or the moment. Standing nearly naked just inside the door, hugging each other and feeling our arms and chests bare against each other. Fantasizing at that moment that someday we’ll have enough property to just walk out the door naked and freely enjoy the sun and breeze with a complete lack of inhibition.

*****

I woke up way too early this morning while the kitchen was still cool and breezy. Looking out the windows I saw the backside of a blonde girl or woman wearing a white shirt, pedal-pushers, and a pink sweater tied around her waist. She was alone and I watched her mount her bike and cautiously roll down the steep hill and out of my sight.

CALM
I just found out that our income is going to be cut by $875 a month starting in July. That is more than our rent, so it’s a pretty significant amount for us.

For some reason I feel totally calm about it, though. I know I should be frustrated by the constant state of “one step forward, two steps back” that I’ve been in financially for most of my life but I don’t feel frustrated at all right now. I know it would be normal for me to worry that now we’ll have to spend more time at home working than away from it visiting our new nephew, but I’m calmly determined to spend lots of time with him no matter what.

It’s funny how a crisis sometimes brings out the best in me and motivates me. Apparently charging $10k last month wasn’t enough to seriously motivate my ass, so the universe is just giving me a little extra motivation now by taking away some money I’ve been taking for granted. I think all that happened last month when I splurged on Trixie.com is that I felt like, “see? I can do totally crazy shit and nothing bad will happen to me!” Now that I think of it though, maybe that’s a true and good thing all by itself. I can do crazy shit and nothing horrible will happen to me. I CAN DO CRAZY SHIT!!! On top of that I realized that I just don’t have it in me to use camming as a source of speedy income. I want to cam when I’m caught up and can have fun with it when I want, not on an emergency basis. I’m too old and antisocial for that, and my ass just can’t handle the demanding fucking.

I also finally caught up on my sleep last night and have gotten a lot of work done today so I feel confident and capable, financial ruin be damned. I’m feeling more realistic about what I love doing most (changes moment to moment) and directing my energies towards doing more of those things.

The very cool side effect to this income loss is that we will create our own spycam chatroom just for our members and I won’t have to chat with non-member voyeurs on the site our spycams are on (SpyOnYou, for those of you in the know) or feel pressured to schedule all of my chat hours instead of just chatting when I feel like it. As far as I know SOY will still be active and we’ll still be exhibiting on it, but we won’t be getting paid for it anymore. In a way it’s a big relief. On the other hand I have a feeling the SOY guy can still afford us, but knows that we won’t leave the site just because we aren’t getting paid anymore so he’ll get us for free instead. Whatever.

One of the valuable lessons I’ve learned from dealing with this guy is not to waste my energy being mad at how someone might try to screw me, because most of the time if I just apply that energy to moving my business forward and ignoring whoever is trying to take advantage of me, I can more than make up for whatever losses I suffer because of them. It’s useless to fight with some people or be mad at them especially in this industry where you usually get some good exposure from people who fuck you; I’ve gotten a lot out of working with this guy instead of fighting him at every turn. Nothing he does or says is a shock to me anymore so I just avoid him or try to find ways to work with him even if I’m never sure he’ll hold up his end of the bargain. For example, he promised me extra money to find more people to exhibit on the site plus I got him to agree to bonus incentive money to reward the new people every month. The new people have been on since December and guess what? Not a penny for me, or more importantly, FOR THEM. Fortunately I never told them there would be any money involved so no one was disappointed.

SHOWS ‘N STUFF
I’m getting ready for my show, but fair warning: I’m on the rag so it might be either a) messy or b) tame depending on my mood and whether or not I decide to put in a tampon.

Yesterday we got up at 6:30 in the morning (basically unheard of for us), went to the hospital to see Cedar, Bradle and Baby, then to their house, and didn’t get home until almost three in the morning. Baby is perfect and looks exactly like my sister, and I am super tired. It’s amazing how quickly the time flies when you’re simply staring at the perfection of an infant and listening to every endearing noise he makes. It’s not amazing how slowly the time drags by when you’re waiting in line for the ferry for an hour, or sitting at a standstill for a half hour staring at a flagger’s stop sign during middle-of-the-night construction. I’ve been feeling dizzily sleep-deprived this entire week.

AGONY & AMAZEMENT
Watching my little sister give birth after hearing her go from her ecstactic state of early labour to moaning and hollering in pain and exhaustion for hours was both agonizing and amazing. The beautiful part was the interaction between her and Bradle along with the look on her face after she finally gotten an epidural about 15 hours into the process. Oh, and the intense emotional overload when the baby finally emerged. The range of feelings and weight of wonder you have witnessing someone (especially your sister or daughter) experiencing labor and childbirth is incredible, particularly when you’re in an altered state provided by sleep deprivation. Overall I was awed by my sister’s performance and also very afraid of what it was doing to her body. I’m glad I was gone when she unexpectedly had a horrifying fear that her uterus was prolapsing when she delivered a couple of huge clots, and then even worse had to go through another delivery of a giant clot which caused them to call the midwife back to the hospital, it was so bad. I think I would have lost it at that point, seeing her go through so much freaky fucking pain and all for CLOTS with no joy of a baby to make it worth the suffering.

I never want to go through what she went through, so I feel even more blessed to be an aunt and look forward to spoiling my nephew and loving him to smithereens. I know it was worth it to her and that her perception of it is different than mine but if I *did* ever do it, I would get a fucking epidural early on and I even surprise myself thinking that I might even feel pretty okay about doing the scheduled c-section instead of a vaginal birth. I know a lot of people view that practice with a lot of criticism and disdain, but whatever – this morning my mind opened to accept that as a pretty legit choice.

I’ve been in the delivery room before and it’s not like the pain aspect should be a big shock to me, and intellectually it isn’t, but it feels so much more close to home when it is YOUR SISTER, your flesh and blood, experiencing it. That kind of pain and trauma should ALWAYS be a shock on a visceral level even if you’re mentally prepared for it. Also, as I get older there are fewer and fewer things I view as “things you must endure in your life”. I’ve come to realize that there are a whole lot of things I *don’t* have to endure that other people take for granted as necessary parts of life, and I choose NOT to endure. Pain is not a given in my life, and neither is motherhood.