TastyTrixie.com

Archive for September, 2006

THE PUFFIES

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The first time I was struck by a picture like that one (a woman shaved smooth, bent over, from behind) I was old enough that it seemed very novel and at my age, interested me because it was a view I’d never seen before . . . and I liked it. It’s so puffy and fruity and palpably fleshy and private.

It reminds me of a phrase my friend and I coined to describe the sensation of arousal: “the puffies”. We were quite young (neither of us had our periods yet) and though we’d been masturbating forever, we were having newer, hotter, stranger physical feelings of build-up, tension, and swelling. At least, I was. Perhaps she was just going along with it. So I called that feeling “getting the puffies”.

I probably would have forgotten all about this embarrassingly juvenile terminology, but one of my other friends reminded me of it in adulthood, being mystified and intrigued by Irene’s and my enthusiastic references to “the puffies”.

It sounds stupid (especially when you consider that at that time sticker-collecting was really popular with us and our cohorts, and one type of sticker was the “puffy” sticker so may have been inspired by that), but actually it’s pretty apt. “Puffy” is a good word to describe what my genitals feel like when I’m turned-on. It’s like they’re inflated with hot breath and blood and tension.

*****

I did have to cancel one of my shows yesterday, but I think we’re on the right track for today (I tested and approved after two or three hours of trial and error and switching the whole camshow operation to a different computer). I also spent a good portion of this morning (when I should have been asleep) to brainstorming and fleshing out ideas for the development of Trixie.com. I really need to hurry up and do something good with that site, and the way it is now is not what I have in mind for the future (though I may use that somewhat off-putting sci-fi/western concept somewhere else someday). The part of featuring contributions from lots of my fellow webwhores is still a go, but the concept of the text and design I was playing with in a rush after I bought the domain isn’t a good one for branding purposes.

Oh to have another $10k for development purposes . . . oh well, I’ll make something of it with the sweat of my brow (and the sweets and sweat of my colleagues), earn a few bucks, and put that into good graphics, design, and programming.

SHOWS TONIGHT
Technical problems have been plaguing my shows lately, as some of you know, and I’m continuing to have them today so I may have to postpone one or more of my shows, or cancel/move them altogether.

I’ve been avoiding upgrading to windows media encoder 9 due to the different way it works, the problems I knew that would create for one computer doing shows on two different networks for two different people, and the knowledge that WME 9 has created problems for other people. The old way was working fine for 95 out of 100 shows, but on those 5 shows I’d have problems, the tech people always would suggest doing this push instead of pull thing with 9 instead of 7.1. Even though most of my recent problems had nothing to do with that (ex. lost internet connection, upgraded router firmware that needed the settings reset, etc.), I grudgingly accepted that if I don’t make this stupid fucking switch I will never hear the end of it and everyone will continue to blame my problems on that.

So here I am, with my old encoder overwritten by 9 which is just erroring out on me and being a bitch in general which means all of my settings for both Tucker’s and my shows the next two days are all fucked up and lost.

I share this information not because it’s interesting, but to avoid getting really annoying fix-it suggestions such as “have you tried rebooting your machine?”

This is not how I want to spend my time, and I don’t want to waste anyone else’s time with it either, so wish me luck on this stinking motherfucking piece of shit. I am seriously sick of it — having technical problems followed by people telling you to “hurry up I can’t see you lose the cloths cum 4 meeee babeeeee open pussy let me cum inside can I see your tongue Imagonna shoot all over it all i need is to see that ass one more time and you’ll make me cum” . . . let’s just say it makes me want to lynch someone. Or two or three of seven or fifty.

GRADUATION DAY
Yesterday was an exciting day for me, marking the completion of a long journey;

I MADE MY LAST STUDENT LOAN PAYMENT YESTERDAY.

It’s the end of my lengthy relationship with Sallie Mae. I am so so so far away from being a “student”. I’m thirty-three, and my student loans are paid. OFF. Wheee!!

When I think about how much money I (and my dad and the government) spent on my college education, I sometimes resent it. I imagine what I could have done with that money — what I could have done with HALF that money — if I’d used it to start a business instead of sit in classrooms. To pay for my junior and senior years at a private university I borrowed around $13k, my dad borrowed around $13k, and I never really totalled up how much I received in scholarships and pell grants — over $20k, I think.

When I think about what I could have done as a webwhore at age twenty when the whole internet porn thing barely existed . . . oh my god. OH MY GOD. It boggles my mind. BLOWS it, actually. But I am only one of many in my pornographic position imagining “what if . . . ” we’d gotten in on the ground floor. I didn’t, and I can’t really regret it because the truth is I COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS JOB AT AGE TWENTY. Or twenty-two or even twenty-five.

On an intellectual level I have a hard time believing that everything happens for the best, or even for a very good reason, but in my own life? It all makes sense. I don’t know if that’s just a delusion used to comfort myself, but I do feel like my life has progressed rather perfectly, opportunities and relationships and jobs have been presented to me in good order, and I always manage to find what I’m looking for . . . eventually.

So. Blowing all that money on school does seem like a waste sometimes, but only when I allow myself to forget that I did learn a lot, that I *do* use a lot of very important lessons from college, and that all of my random and seemingly “useless” experiences, from classes on revolutionary China to divorce, from learning how to write lesson plans to being the lowliest of data entry operators, from growing my debt from hundreds of dollars to tens of thousands of dollars . . . it’s all part of my journey. I’m thankful for all of those experiences and fortunate to have had them.

One of the life-altering lessons I got from university was not to be afraid to handle and spend thousands of dollars. Going from living at home where food stamps and bankruptcy were in our recent history, to writing checks for six to nine thousand dollars to be used up in a semester? That changed my life. It’s the kind of change I don’t think people who grew up with money, even just a moderate amount of it, can possibly comprehend. When you grow up thinking three hundred dollars is a REALLY BIG DEAL, and suddenly thousands of dollars are passing in and out of your fingers, it’s a really big change. Aside from leaving a lasting sense of disbelief (and sometimes outrage) at what we think is justifiable to spend our money on and what is not, what is a good investment of money in a ‘po young person and what is not, and a general shaking of my head at the ludicrous weight we place on schooling versus other life choices you could make during your teen years, aside from all of that, I lost my fear of borrowing and spending money beyond my means.

Because of that, nothing the naysayers warn about credit card debt has sunk into my head to a fearful extent. If it was okay for me to borrow $700 for books for a year of school, I think it’s MORE than okay for me to borrow $700 for a computer to improve my business. If it was okay for me to borrow money to go to Albania to study political science, I think it’s MORE than okay for me to borrow money to go to Las Vegas to attend an industry gathering. If it was okay for me to borrow thousands of dollars to live in a fucking age-and-gender-segregated dormitory as though that’s the most enriching worthwhile thing a twenty year old can do, I think it’s MORE than okay for me to borrow thousands of dollars to spend on renting locations to shoot content for our customers that doesn’t look like it was made in someone’s single-wide trailer “home”. Note: I have no problem with content shot in a single-wide trailer nor do I have a problem with living in a single-wide, and hope to have some someday and maybe even live in a trailer park for the “experience”, but I’m just trying to make a point here.

I have already spent and “wasted” tens of thousands of dollars on an education that a lot of people would say I’m not using. Some people in my position might then worry about making the same mistake again or having to make up for the waste by being uber-practical from then on. Not me. It has made me looser, freer, and less afraid. I’m not hotel-heiress careless about money, of course, but I’m certainly not going to scrimp and pinch and work my fingers to the bone trying to avoid charging things on credit cards that I need for work. After the money I spent on college, no one can convince me that twenty or thirty or forty thousand dollars worth of debt is a very big deal or a sign of imminent doom. Especially when I didn’t even want to go to college in the first place, and I *do* want THIS — to make indie porn and do all of the splendid things I get to plug into my porn: the blogging, the reflection, the provocation, the people, and the opportunities to do what I want, how I want, when I want.

I made that last payment yesterday — the debt is gone, but I still have everything I learned from school. If I wondered whether or not it was worth it before, I don’t today. IT WAS WORTH IT. Ten years after leaving school I can say, without hesitation, borrowing that money to go to college was WORTH IT.

And ten years from today I am going to say, without hesitation, that all my credit card debt was worth it too.

UP, DOWN, UP, DOWN, GAH!
If you notice our spycams mysteriously going down then up, down then up, and so on today, I think the tech guy is playing with the servers. I’m not sure what the deal is, but it’s motherfucking annoying. At least our plumber made his final visit this morning. He was here for hours again tidying up some electrical problems. I know . . . you’re wondering why a plumber is working on electrical problems . . . don’t ask.

My skin honestly feels rubbed raw by technical problems and assorted interruptions clamoring for attention:

Example: some hacker who appears to have found and posted a bunch of usernames and passwords to my members area — this a problem I really don’t want to have to troubleshoot or deal with, but must. Members: if you find yourself locked out please email me with your old username so I can give you a new username and password. And if I seem to not reply to you PLEASE check your junk mail in case your filter threw my email in there. And no, this is not a situation of someone having all of your personal data, it’s just the un/pw combos. And lots of them. Ugh.

Example: having mysterious problems getting feed to work during shows on one network. Must then setup a new and different way of streaming feed before show on Friday. Residual annoyance from potential viewers suggesting in chat, “try the power cords, babes – and hurry!” still fresh on nerves.

Example: having the art department from an industry magazine request a logo in 300 dpi that I made many months ago in 72 dpi and have really really no time or desire or wits about me to recreate, but really should because it’s an excellent opportunity for exposure. Or might be — hard to say since I’ve subscribed to said magazine twice and have never received a copy. Causes me to question how many people actually READ said magazine. Still, lesson learned: when creating web graphics consider the possibility of those graphics’ potential usability in print and design accordingly. This is all pretty funny considering that our photos are all unecessarily 300 dpi which apparently is just a worthless waste of bandwidth since supposedly the quality of web stuff is as good as it gets at 72. Or so I’ve heard.

FUCKING ANNOYING, friends. And these are only three examples of the kinds of bullshit that plagues me.

Fortunately my period started so I feel completely justified in crawling back into bed with my hot water bottle. But haven’t yet. Because I needed to blog and vent lest my HEAD explode.

I really really miss my squishy nephew. Trying to figure out how to attain a more satisfying balance between work tasks that I really don’t enjoy (see above examples) and important things, like spending time with FAMILY.

Don’t get me wrong, there are work tasks that I *do* enjoy, very much, but sometimes it seems like I have less and less time for those as more and more of my time is sucked up with bullshit my brain is not designed to efficiently deal with. My brain is designed for Flavor of Love, okay?

It’s actually not that bad (my brain or the bullshit), but right at the moment my eyeballs are throbbing and I’m temporarily blind to how fantastic my life usually is.

I know things are fine, I just have to do stuff one thing at a time, one step at a time and not think about what’s next on the list until I actually have time and energy to do it. I actually do a good job, I think, of making my time at the computer count, and not allowing myself to get chained to it for over ten hours a day the way some people do (and the way I have in the past). What that means, though, is some things have to go by the wayside so I can have some balance in my life. And what THAT means is that I have to learn not to feel guilty for not being able to answer every email or request for my time that crosses my virtual threshold.

GUILT BE GONE! SENSE OF FAILURE BE GONE!!!

Speaking of balance, I’ve gotten exercise five days out of the past seven. Yay me!

AFTERNOON DELIGHT(S)
Here’s a little preview photo from the apple harvest-themed shoot we did yesterday:

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I’m in love with the colors of dead grass, apples, and my old-fashioned cotton print dress.

Anyway, I just wanted to make a quick post this morning to let people know I’ve scheduled a show this afternoon to make up for the one on Saturday when we lost internet access. It will be on SCC at 4 pm Pacific / 7 pm Eastern – accessible to members HERE.

PRIORITIES
It’s that day again, so I suppose I should post something appropriately themed, something that shows I care about my country, something that doesn’t make me sound like an insensitive lout.

How about a news story detailing the arrest of a foreigner by the feds? Something to make us all feel safer — something to show the government’s got its priorities straight: Bush administration obscenity crackdown nets fetish film kingpin.

Read all of the lurid details!

Oh, and don’t forget that Jackass: Number Two is coming out soon. Get it? Number Two? Brought to you by Paramount. I did so love the first one, and masturbated furiously to it. Who can resist the sexiness of boys gone wild eating urine snowcones and stuffing matchbox cars up their asses? The inclusion of midgets and fat chicks should raise the fetish appeal of #2 considerably, but might detract from the overall stupid-boy-next-door quality. I’ll take a wait and see approach on this one.

If you can’t tell where I stand on this, let me spell it out: I DISAGREE VEHEMENTLY WITH THE GOVERNMENT HAVING ANY SAY WHATSOEVER IN WHETHER OR NOT ENTERTAINMENT MATERIAL IS “OBSCENE”. I do not think people filming consensual sex and distributing it to people who choose to view it, no matter how fucking nasty it is, should have to worry about going to fucking prison.

The only leg I think the government has to stand on is that there’s a health risk when it comes to sc&t. But you know what? There’s a much more significant health risk to the entire country when you fail to provide sex education to the public. When you fail to encourage condom use and go so far as to give young women no options except to become little hiv positive babymakers. And as far as feeling indirectly victimized by degrading porn, you know, I really feel much more threatened by the fact that half the rapes reported in this country don’t even result in an ARREST, let alone a conviction. And the fact that when rape is discussed on the “news” it’s usually a big story designed to make us doubt the victim’s credibility and make us believe that rape is something women probably just make up. If you want to talk about “terror” and where the war on it should be focused, start there motherfuckers. Don’t tell me that throwing a few extreme pornographers is going to make women or “the children” safer, because it’s not. It’s a waste of time and money and a violation of free speech and privacy.

I know, I know. It’s positively blasphemous of me to spend time on this day championing the rights of people to make and sell videos depicting people blowing snot, semen and shit onto other people in a sexual context, but if I don’t do it . . . who will?

GOODNESS
Tucker brought home flowers . . . awwww! And now Delia is doing her show . . .

Our hot water is back, our internet access is back, and I’m getting a lot of work done. Well, maybe not *done*, but am making headway on a lot of big and little things (a promotional blog most of you will never see, some video editing, creation of some other promo materials, and getting a headstart on future updates). My English breakfast was perfectly brewed this morning.

Tomorrow I’m looking forward to doing a nice outdoor shoot, and right now I’m looking forward to eating some lunch.

Later, I’m looking forward to making at least one semi-interesting blog entry that doesn’t involve hair-pulling.

Oh, and I think I *will* try to make up for the loss of Saturday’s show. If any members have a preferred day/time this week, pipe up and let me know. No promises, but your input could make my decision-making that much more efficient.

HOME AGAIN (PART II)

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Last night we came home to the smell of rotting meat; the elderly plumber and his equally aged cousin/assistant unplugged the refrigerator three days ago without our knowledge so while we were gone? Our previously frozen and refrigerated foods thawed and went bad. I mourned the loss of steak Tucker threw in before our departure, but he played the Pollyanna glad game, reminding me that we got free steak yesterday at my mom’s boyfriend’s house for her little birthday party. What a sunny darling my boyfriend is!

The plumber has been here on three or four different days for an estimated total of about fifteen hours (I’m just guessing here; fortunately our landlords have to pay for this so I’m not keeping track). Tucker’s good humour about it is fading, as is mine. We’re not mad at anyone (unlike the situation at the beginning of the year when our previous landlord was selling the house with us in it; that invasion of privacy, displacement, and harrassment made me positively BALLISTIC), it’s just beginning to feel like we have squatters in our kitchen.

If they aren’t done in a couple of hours when it’s time for me to get ready for my show I think I’m going to murder someone. Actually, before then; if they aren’t gone in about forty-five minutes so I can EAT SOMETHING HOT COOKED ON A PLUGGED-IN STOVE before my show, my murderous impulses will be aroused. I cannot work when I’m hungry and have some old Republican fuck inside my house (the cousin almost sprang an angry leak when I even *mentioned* the subject of water conservation which he clearly believes to be the evil brainchild of environmental extremists). Like the eccentric moron I am, I’m wearing my “Vote Kerry” hoodie right now (because it’s comfortable and I’m too cheap to buy something less dated, not because I’m mentally retarded) and am afraid to go out there and hear an earful or possibly have the house burned down at a later date by him. Looks like I will have to change my top to go get the mail.

I know, you’re probably amazed that I would actually do something to AVOID confrontation, but seriously . . . there are times when I’m just not in the mood.