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Archive for the ‘attention deficit disorder’ Category

Before my webcam show today:

My boobs pressed against the glass of the cabin door.

After my webcam show I went shopping for some Christmas presents for our nephews while Delia and The Hunter had some private time at home alone. A guy hit on me while I window shopped, but I was enjoying being alone too much to try to get a free dinner out of it (yes, I do think that way). Instead I treated myself to a solo Mexican dinner.

Christmas mannequin I saw tonight

All of these years that it was just the two of us — Delia and I — when I chose to spend time alone I always felt like we both missed out on sharing something together. One of the things I love about The Hunter living with us is the feeling of freedom I have to be alone, like nobody is missing out on anything if I eat out by myself or take a walk by myself or spend the night by myself.

Of course they are quick to point out that they are missing out on time with me, but I don’t care or feel I’m doing something stingy the way I did when it was just Delia and I. I was able to walk up and down and up and down and up and down the streets tonight with no regard for time or preoccupation with “what is my girlfriend doing now? Is she waiting for me?” No automatic decisions against doing something nice by myself because I would rather do it with her.

We did everything together. Barely spent any time apart, really. In lots of ways we were isolated together against the rest of the world. I wanted everything to be safe and stable and predictable and routinized at home with no surprises or discomfort. Experiencing that was important, for both of us, I think. But right now it seems important for us to grow relationships with other people and restore some of our independence from each other without growing apart.

I didn’t think I wanted or needed to spend more time alone and with other people, but The Hunter and his relationship with Delia and the upsetting of my soothing routines and space cushions have been catalysts for me to seize time alone and talk to other people more, including inviting a lady friend to go to the movies with us! Except for four couples we’re friends with as a couple, I really haven’t cultivated relationships with people as an individual. I felt like I only had energy for three relationships: my relationship with Delia, my relationship with work, and my relationship with myself with a tiny bit available for my family and the friends we have in common.

I believe in brain plasticity. I believe I’m becoming more capable and flexible by intimately sharing our space and time with a third person we care about. And on an observable level I can now see that I have more opportunities instead of less by our being in a close relationship with a third person. Not just any third person, but this particular third person and everything that he brings to the table.

I’m not adjusting to everything with the greatest of ease and I know I will never be a social butterfly or able to juggle work and a hundred relationships and home life with the kind of energy and skills other people do, but I do think I’m changing for the better even if I’ve had a handful of immature outbursts. I also can’t say that any one of us in this new triad has been devoid of jealousy, but I think it’s okay because we’re talking about it openly and it’s kind of exciting/stimulating.

I’d be lying if I said I feel 100% safe in our new relationships. What I do feel is wholly alive. Every day is different, like we’re kids who don’t know anything so every 24 hour period is crammed full of measurable huge growth. Like 25 new vocabulary words a day.

Check out this blog entry from Delia for some more background on The Hunter.

Things I (almost) always congratulate people on with genuine happiness, enthusiasm and well-wishes:

• finding religion (or some form of contact with divinity or spirituality)
• finding religion (or some form of contact with divinity or spirituality) is bullshit
• deciding to love someone, move in with someone, or marry
• deciding to break up or divorce
• pregnancy
• abortion (but I would never congratulate anybody on a miscarriage, unless they specifically said they were glad for it)
• deciding they never ever want to have children
• asking for help with a problem (preferably from somebody other than me, but in very rare cases I’m glad someone asked me — I know, I’m a dick)
• discovering they were wrong about something / changing their mind
• recognizing that something bad that happened to them wasn’t their fault or anything they had control over.
• any sexual encounter that they’re excited to tell me about
• abstaining from sex or drugs or whatever they decide they want to abstain from
• relief-bringing farts, burps, or poops (if they share that they had a good one)
• starting school or deciding to learn or practice something new
• quitting school
• starting a new job
• quitting a job
• ceasing or limiting consumption of anything that bothers them ethically, morally or makes them sick
• making a big fucking mistake and realizing it
• incurring debt for something they want or a risk they want to take
• going bankrupt
• opting out
• opting in
• getting dirty and staying that way for an extended period of time
• getting clean
• baptism
• feats of strength or endurance or solitude
• wallowing deeply and darkly until the tired hurt passes
• putting a team together or being part of one to make something happen, even if it’s a miserable failure
• figuring out you hate something and deciding to avoid it as much as possible for the rest of your life
• figuring out you’re not good at something and you don’t want to waste time trying to become good at it. Ever.
• moving

This is not an exhaustive list.

Pretty much any change is cause for congratulations and celebration, as far as I’m concerned. One thing I sometimes feel like congratulating people on but don’t is the diagnosis of an illness or disease. Because now you know and your life is being transformed, and you can shape your healing or reception of the change or whatever. I have to thank my mom for that, for raising me to never be afraid of finding out something bad about my health . . . to think of it as an opportunity (though she was thinking of things that aren’t 100% death sentences, things like diabetes, heart disease and herpes). Also, I really wish people had congratulated me when I was diagnosed with ADD. Or just for taking the steps to get help.

I know I’m not always a nice person, but I often feel really happy and excited for change in people’s lives and pull for them to experience all of the amazingness in life they possibly can: redemption, discovery, movement, freedom, immersion, floating, love, humility, creation, running as fast as we can, and stopping to catch our breath, sinking into the earth with dog-tiredness weighing tons of magnets.

I often fantasize about having a windowless closet with a narrow cozy built-in bunk to sleep and daydream on. Where nobody can see me, cut off and curtained-in by dark, heavy layers of hanging clothes. Or of being in a fantasy sleeper-car on a train on a comfortably narrow berth, dark wood paneling all around with chugging train sounds and gentle rocking. Or of being in an even-smaller, quieter version of this cabin, this time with a built-in little bed. No electricity, no webcams. Or of having my bookwormhole.

Sometimes I close my eyes in bed and time-travel back to the best drugless, not-sick sleep I ever had. I went on a women’s retreat with a bunch of gals I really didn’t know. Upon arrival I half-assedly engaged in the crafts they’d set out, then went to the cabin. There were a handful of these cabins on the lake, a BIG lake with no motorized boats allowed. QUIET. The other women complained about the cabins – the uncomfortable bunks something they were only tolerating for the coolness of the Retreat. In the middle of the day while the cabins were completely deserted I climbed onto my little wooden shelf, nestled down into Delia’s perfectly awesome sleeping bag, faced the wall, and fell asleep for hours. Undisturbed, unseen, far removed, not missed. I absented myself from everywhere else except my private cocoon.

I got up for a late dinner, and that night slept again in a completely heavy, renewing, needy, guiltless way. Even with the women sharing the cabin with me, I felt alone with my earplugs in and my lack of intimacy with them. There was a woman on the shelf above me, two shelves holding a woman-each perpendicular to my head, and two shelves parallel to me across a tiny open space. I was the first person to go to bed, and the last one to wake up. I liked having the shelves of women around me, being in a small hibernating hive, quietly together without any of them knowing me. Not talking.

I was reading Strangers on a Train that trip. I accidentally left it at the lodge so I never finished it, but it was good to have it when I did. A sugar daddy sent it to me off my wishlist so I feel a little guilty over losing it, but my possession of the memories of that trip are so clear the book is still one of my treasures even though I don’t have it anymore.

*****

The opportunity to rent a small cabin/shed space came up this week, synchronous to a handful of needs/desires/opportunities converging on me/us. It’s the kind of thing I would never seek out because I don’t think I deserve it, but under the circumstances and upon careful thought and discussion we both recognize we’re way overdue for what it will offer. It is just THE THING. It’s not in a remote location — in fact it’s on very shared space minutes away — but because we’ve been there and know the person really well who’s renting it I’m familiar with the setting, comfortable with the people who might be around, and aware of the benefits of its location. I haven’t actually been inside this cabin on the property, but I’m going to check it out soon.

Yes, I’m worried about how we’re going to afford it, but the with the house and the cabin/shed we’ll be paying the same amount we were paying for rent on individual houses before we moved into this place with its cheaper rent. I’m pretty sure it will be worth the relatively small investment in terms of providing space and opportunity for more creative content creation for our porn sites, too.

It’s not a done deal but if it works out I will be healthier with a space to be solitary and invisible, to write without obligation or interruption (I know, we don’t have kids and we work at home, but there are SO MANY INTERRUPTIONS mostly named THE INTERNET and webcams and too much space with all of it messy with cables and overwhelming work things everywhere), to sleep with complete cozy abandon, and most excitingly for our fans this might give us the kind of space and convenience we need to have more sexual adventures with other people. I will have someplace to go if Delia wants someone over for fooling around, and vice versa (though I mainly anticipate fooling around with mySELF, dreams, and pages and pages of watery blue words). We’ll have a convenient place to go away together, away from work. Because working at home with 24/7 voyeur cams on you means never getting a break unless you leave, and when we leave work I want to relax, not wander around a mall or drive hours to see a movie, or blow money to sit on uncomfortable chairs in a restaurant, or wander around in the woods being scared of cougars wondering how we’ll get home when our car breaks down (I still need to blog about that).

I’m also really excited about sharing the dreaminess of a little place like that and the things I do in it. But not having to share it WHILE I’m there.

I’m grateful to a number of people and strangely-timed messages for helping me decide to seize this opportunity. Two of those people are Heather and Libby, so thanks for the inspirations.

It’s the end of November so every web geek in the world is putting the finishing touches on her novel. But not I.

Ever since I heard about National Novel Writing Month years ago I’ve wanted to participate. Mere weeks ago I thought, “THIS is the year!”, but alas . . . before November 1st even materialized I realized it wasn’t a good time to devote myself to another time-consuming and unprofitable project.

I’ve tried a bunch of things — structured things — to force myself to write more by building it into my schedule on a regular basis or writing short things for my members (which I generally post the first parts of then never finish, -or- DO have an ending, but really are only first drafts and not what members want to read in the first place) or by telling people I’m going to write this or that, and none of them have worked so I had to acknowledge to myself after I made my little NaNoWriMo profile and post here proclaiming my intentions that I totally couldn’t justify doing it and didn’t even WANT to.

I do want to write for fun/for myself/to escape into my head more with a partial written record to remember where I’ve been, and to at least pretend I want to become more skilled and produce pieces of writing that will make me happy and satisfy my cravings, but (but what? I don’t want to squeeze it in? I don’t want it to be a chore? I want it to be EVERYTHING for a week or a month, not an added obligation where I have to check in with someone else to approve of its length or its sex appeal or its marketability?) NaNoWriMo was NOT the best way for me to do it this year.

I just couldn’t justify the NaNoWriMo adventure when I haven’t been responding to email, have stacks of unfinished to-do lists, and, most embarrassing of all, haven’t even finished filling in my picture pages here on my blog redesign or added all my friends’ links or fixed the multitudes of minor yet painfully broken posts and features (categories vs. tags that got messed up in transition), hadn’t written and sent out a newsletter to fans in months (if not a year or more), etc.

On the other hand, I’m not always sure I can justify ANYTHING that I’m doing. Yes, that’s a maudlin exaggeration, but one I couldn’t resist. Also, wrote a bunch more bullshit related to this but removed it. Some people can relate, but others would be like, OH GOD SHUT *UP* ALREADY! or wouldn’t be able to resist giving me advice which would make me vomit and lose hair.

Bloggers and webwhores around the world are making “year in review” posts right now. I’m not very good at instantly recalling and ranking The Most Important Things That Happened Last Year (seriously, I’m not even capable of ordering food in a drive-through — something every other moron in America is MORE than competent at). I do feel really excited about 2009, though. It’s like the past four months have been a slow, gradual process of skill-building, cleaning-up, clarifying and prioritizing to prepare for a great new year/rest-of-my-life.

Before I sum up my too-personal stuff, here’s a picture of me from way back in February of 2002, before my members-only area opened, right around the time I met “my houseboy” before she became Delia:

And photos from a couple of my favorite shoots this year:

Probably the most important thing that happened in 2008 was we both started going to twelve step meetings. If I just said, “the most important thing that happened in 2008 was Delia stopped drinking” it might make more sense to people, but that really isn’t the most important thing that happened. The most important thing for me (and equally important for our relationship) is that when she stopped drinking this time AND started going to meetings, I had to start getting my OWN shit together instead of thinking things were just hard because of her alcoholism. I sort of thought everything was perfect before EXCEPT for her drinking, but the month after she stopped? It totally wasn’t perfect, because I had a complete meltdown. Obviously I know *I* am not perfect and I know a lot of the ways I’m an asshole (and will continue to be no matter how hard I sometimes try to stop being), but I really didn’t have a plan or consistently work towards or ask for any help being a better, happier, healthier, nicer person. Working and worrying about other people (what they’re THINKING, what they’re DOING, what they EXPECT from me, how I think they’re so fucking WRONG/fucked up, etc.) were my top priorities. I didn’t really accept that me being a crazy asshole was/is my absolute biggest problem.

They seem like a simple concepts to apply to life — just worry about your OWN shit, don’t try to control anyone/thing except yourself — but no matter how much I know those things on a rational level, applying them on a daily basis is a struggle and going to meetings helps me with that in a way nothing else ever has before.

Getting back on Ritalin has helped a lot, too. Another thing that’s helping is making exercising a priority — on December 5th I moved “exercising” to the top of my to-do list. I’ve exercised 21 days out of the past 29 (walking, dancing, stretching, DDRing, pilates, etc.). I need to keep reminding myself that my health is a bigger priority than work — that taking care of myself IS my job and the foundation of doing everything else better. And being less of a crazy asshole.

This year when I filed our 2007 taxes (late, in October) I also had to face that we didn’t meet our money goals in 2008; like, our sales were almost exactly the same as in 2007 when my goal was to double it (not as insane as it sounds, especially given our growth rate in years past). It’s not that I’m not thankful — I know that lots of people made LESS money in 2008 than 2007 — but there’s really no excuse for us not to be making more money. Yes, it’s hard. But it’s at the point now where we really NEED to, and that challenge/brink-of-disaster is good for me because it focuses me. I’ve been pushing everything to the sidelines that is not an efficient way of meeting our sales goals and promising myself not to pick those things up again until our goals are met and I can *justify* doing all those extra things and have the *resources* to do them well.

We also tried harder in 2008 to take days off. We didn’t succeed in doing that consistently/regularly, so I should make that a resolution for this year. In general 2008 taught me that I can do more work better by not trying to do so MUCH of it and by working on improving myself.

In between meetings, exercise, Ritalin, fewer goals in my field of vision/better priorities, I felt really good about taking down the 2008 calendar and hanging up 2009. Everything feels like it’s falling into place and I feel more patient about the time that’s taking than I ever have before, and massively excited about the way Delia’s and my relationship with each other is evolving and deepening — our need to spend non-work time with each other and making/hearing music, fucking, laughing, kissing, talking, cleaning house, playing games, etc. is another huge motivator to push other stuff off the table so we can just ENJOY each other.

I am still going to be an asshole in 2009, but I will be a healthier asshole with a more flexible pucker. I know I won’t STOP blowing hot, rank air but I will concentrate on cooling it down and remind myself to focus on cleaning myself up from the inside out to reduce my stench. I will be a more kissable asshole in 2009, and if all goes well perhaps I will be wiping myself with money by the time 2010 rolls around.

Yes, an asshole can dream.

After having family stay with us for a few days, I usually feel like I need a day off to myself to recover from the energy kicked up from so many people around me. During this visit, however, I kept retreating to WebWhore Headquarters (that’s what I call my home office) for a couple hours here and there, allowing myself to WORK to relax.

Instead of picking work that I really *need* to do that’s high priority for making money, I allowed myself to work on low-priority stuff that’s fun and not complex or stressful (except for feeling guilty for not doing more important things) and requires no interaction with other people. Stuff that’s compact, like blogging and posting one-pagers on domains I’ve had for a long time that have been sitting, completely BLANK. My thought is that anything I accomplish is a bonus since I should be taking time off from work while family is here for our late-Thanksgiving so I should do something totally relaxing instead of tangling with bigger projects.

Here are some of the one-pagers I’ve made over the past week or two:

Worse Than Porn
TrixieDoll
Borg Porn
DeliaTS
Give Me Sugar

It’s soothing to play with fonts and colors and inspiring to remind myself of concepts and ideas that interest me. Only a couple of those were frivolous, actually, with no immediate application, but I still feel conflicted all the time and defensive about the choices I make with my time. Like if I enjoy it and other people might not understand where it fits in the puzzle, then I should feel badly about it. There are a lot of things I’m choosing to NOT do, and I constantly imagine a crowd of people criticizing my choices, saying “what, she’s not doing X so she can do Y and Z?? THAT is stupid! She hasn’t earned the right to waste time doing that — I want X! I want X! Y and Z are useless! She would be so much better off doing X; a bigger commitment to doing X would solve all of her problems, can’t she see that?”

One of my goals is to stop worrying so much about the critics, both external critics and my own internal asshole voices who can ALWAYS find some way to make me feel like I’m not doing good enough. I need to focus on what I’m doing right (and right NOW), not what I’m doing wrong (or not doing at the moment). Unfortunately I’m often painfully aware that every choice I make to do one thing means not doing ten billion others. It’s depressing and I have to knock that shit off. Being on Ritalin does help a lot because I can sit down and focus on something without intrusive thoughts and ideas continually popping into my head of all the other things I can/should be doing which then make me totally anxious, overwhelmed, afraid to proceed with the task at hand, and hopeless because of my limitations and lack of giant progress.

I know a lot of people struggle with similar feelings, so I share this for a couple reasons: because I know other people can relate and it always feels good to know you’re not the only one with these kinds of challenges, and because it helps ME to type out my fears and remind myself I don’t want to carry them around. I want to be happy with what I *can* do and what I *want* to do right now at this moment. I want to look at what I’ve done and feel a sense of accomplishment and pride, not guilt and maudlin hyper-criticism.

*****

Anyway, the family is gone now, our spycams are back up, and Delia’s warming up some of her delicious turkey & stuffing leftovers. Life is good.

Just a quick post to say that we have family visiting today and tomorrow so some of our cams and audio will be down. It’s been too long since we’ve seen our nephew and we haven’t even given my sister her present for her birthday which was a month ago. It’s a hot pair of peeptoe sandals so in the back of my mind I’m hoping I can get a set of foot-focused pics out of her while she’s wearing them, too. Is that so wrong? PROBABLY!

Some snaps of me from the last time we had company over:

My psychiatrist’s office finally called back so I made an appointment to get back on Ritalin. I got a huge headache yesterday because I’ve been trying to use caffeine instead of prescription stimulants and caffeine? It’s pure fucking evil. I don’t have to consume much over the course of three or four days to suffer nasty consequences.

Even though I was almost totally out of commission yesterday with the headache, I did manage to write and post for members a sicko masturbation fantasy I had. I’m not sure if other people will jack off to it, but it’s an interesting peek into the mind of a woman and how the threat of violence from men is a constantly disturbing companion that can’t be safely separated from sex in our subconscious minds. Our brains are diseased with scary men.

I have $150 of my own spending money and am trying to decide which of these things at the top of my personal wants list are most worthy of it:

*a new microphone perfect for podcasting

*hiring a guy to make a logo for WebWhoreBucks.com so I can give the whole thing a facelift and a proud capitalist woman vibe

*use it all on massage and maybe exercise classes

I’m leaning towards massage (and maybe mental health care) because even though I *yearn* for those other things, taking care of my body fulfills my basic needs (and IS mental health care) better than those other things do which require follow-up effort to be truly useful. Buying massage is one of the few things I can do for myself that is really good for me, requires no effort on my part, and on top of all that is PLEASURABLE.

*****

Mildly put, I’m having a really difficult time today. A lot of it is hormonal/PMS, a lot of it is just the normal difficulty I have as an ADD person in prioritizing overwhelming sets of to-do’s, but some of it is specific stress over a few different circumstances that I overall feel hopeful about, but have been emotionally exhausting. My emotional resources are tapped out and my brain’s really loud and jumbly.

To make part of a long story short, Delia’s going Alcoholics Anonymous meetings now and I’m going to Alanon. It’s a huge relief to me and I feel really positive about it. I feel like a lot of weight and isolation is being lifted from me. Still, there are residual effects of the stress I’ve/we’ve accumulated getting to this point and being in a number of transitions; I’ve cried a lot more than usual in the past week, which is awesome in some ways but just really fucking exhausting.

On top of that, we continue to be plagued by problems with our neighbors. Fortunately, the guy got thrown back into jail yesterday so we’ll have a bit of a break from him, but the woman is probably more of a menace to us than he is. And the daughter? I just feel so fucking bad for her that she’s one of the pains that I cried over recently.

Our main ISP where we have a business account tightened its spam filters and pretty much blocked us from sending any email from or referencing our porn domains through their outgoing mail servers; they were very helpful, professional, and non-accusatory, but ultimately I had to spend a lot of time on the phone for a couple of days to find a solution and get it working again. That time-suck piled on top of others makes me feel totally burned-out, like I can’t get ahead. I know that’s not true, I’m just feeling that way this week. It hasn’t all been bad, and most of the time I feel happy, but my mood swings are extreme and the lows are really pathetic. I tried to get ahold of my psychiatrist that I haven’t seen in five years or so, but he hasn’t returned my messages. It would be a big help to get back on Ritalin so I could at least concentrate and get some work done without being totally scatterbrained, distracted, and wanting to rip out my overactive, inefficient brain. Just being able to sit down and work without little sounds like frogs croaking (which should be PLEASANT!) driving me to insanity would be a really huge help.

I can’t stand hearing people go on and on all the time about all their problems that they always seem to be having, so I just hope that if you’re reading this that you have enough context for my complaining to know I’m not defeated or just a pitiful slug of depression with no hope for the future, I’m just in a bumpy spot. I know it’s nowhere near what other people have to deal with, and I wouldn’t trade in my problems for other people’s, but that doesn’t mean I can pretend everything’s totally smooth sailing for me right now. It’s not the big things that are bothering me today — I feel pretty excited (in good ways) about the big things — it’s the little things that are wearing me down. Like my mom calling to say that even though Grandma appreciates my letters, she’d rather I called. And that making me feel like I was smothering in a lead blanket of guilt that I will never have enough energy, time or detachment to throw off (it’s impossible to talk to my grandma without the first thing out of her mouth being a passive-aggressive guilt trip; I thought I was fulfilling more than I’m capable of just to talk to my MOM on the phone four times in two days but I’m supposed to interrupt work to do more? YES!!!).

Then there’s the world-is-out-to-get-me crap where you think everything is being aligned to stymie your efforts, like the library being closed for staff training the one day of the month you go out of your way to visit it, or water aerobics being canceled this week (JUST *this* week, they say!) when you made what felt like a herculean effort to go to the pool for the first time in fifteen years specifically for that because you really fucking need the exercise. And you know the whole modern cult-of-magnetization thinks you brought this shit on yourself . . . there ARE no coincidences and the world isn’t out to sabotage you, YOU ARE DOING IT YOURSELF, but I have to calm down and remember that’s both notions are a total fucking crock of shit and I just have to keep trying in spite of being annoyed that both facilities’ online schedules were totally misleading!

I made the best of both situations. I’m a fucking winner. And I know it will get better. Probably when my period starts. And my girlfriend is making me eggs and bacon right now to remind me that my life is charmed, sweet, and I’m not in this all by myself. I get taken care of.

I just added a new gallery for members with pictures of me naked in a fog. Here are a couple of samples:

Member Galleries: 1024 or 1600 pixels | Non-Members: JOIN HERE for access.

*****

I think I’m on electronic overload since we got home. There’s a certain feeling I get in my head, throat and upper chest when I’ve been talking on a cell phone, listening to an ipod, sitting too close to a webcam, or just having too much computer time; it’s like metal and static inside me, almost like the taste of static if static had a flavor (and if I had taste buds all throughout my upper body). I don’t think I’ve ever gotten it from cameras, but other things — yes. Maybe I have it right now because of the new laptop. Maybe it’s emitting some weird . . . something. Probably it’s the noise and the frequency of the noises, but it feels more like it’s the heated metals and plastics and ozone scents (which I like at first, but then feel like they’re seeping into me).

Or maybe I’m just crazy.