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Archive for the ‘hormones’ Category

Sorry I haven’t posted anything the past few days; all you’ve missed is a giant broiling vat of premenstrual syndrome symptoms. It’s been almost seven weeks since my last period started. I’m guessing I probably didn’t ovulate this cycle for whatever reason. And all of the pregnancy tests are negative. I mentioned I have really horrid PMS, too, right?

If you want to see a little of what my days have been like check out my Daily Trixie blog (imports all of my twitter posts from the previous day). I personally thinks it’s quite readable, but that might just be my narcissism speaking.

I’ve got my second show of the day coming up in half an hour. My face is tear-stained because of afore-mentioned hormonal problems. Nothing to worry about, it’s just what’s going on for me.

Going to pick a big fucking dildo to use because those skinny ones do NOT cut it when I’m in a mood like this one. And if anyone in the chatroom prods me for DEEP penetration I will scream bloody murder. Look up “G-spot” and have your eyes opened, ye Philistines.

So The Bi Apple didn’t win last night, but we had sex so that cushioned the blow (okay, having sex last night had nothing to do with the awards, but I’m trying to make meaningless connections here so bear with me).

On another positive side of groundbreaking, one of the other cool things about being in that movie is that it featured real-life couples like us (and my partner just happened to also come in handy for a guy-guy scene in addition to the one we did together . I feel like pointing out that we met each other over six years ago; in September we’ll have been living together for that many years. Since I was ranting about conservative attitudes towards sexuality, I feel like pointing out that as more-than-BIsexuals, as pornographers, as people with spycams, and as people who sometimes have sex with other people we have, I think, an enviably solid relationship. On top of all of those things that conservative people would consider threats to a healthy relationship, my partner doesn’t identify as the same gender she presented as when I met him. Suck on that! And yes, I’m messing with her pronouns on purpose.

The funny part is that I feel like our relationship IS pretty conservative; I don’t feel like our lives are wild and crazy at all. If all of those alternative-lifestyle-sounding labels fell off of us or were invisible to people, I think the the average conservative couple would look at us as shining examples of what a long-term relationship (or marriage, even though we’re not) should be. But happier.

I feel like we have all of the best parts of an old-fashioned relationship; we run our own little business together and have probably spent MAYBE 30 nights apart from each other TOPS since we’ve been living together. It’s not that we don’t like spending time alone (we do that too), but we are pretty tight when the end of the day rolls around. I’m not saying our relationship has been without challenges, just that the assumptions many people would make about the health of our relationship based on our sexual preferences, gender identities, and work are probably a lot different from the reality (the reality being that we have the best, most normal, and healthiest relationship of almost every couple I know).

*****

At the moment I am in the evil throes of PMS, so if you hear me swearing even more than usual on cam, see me looking even sloppier than usual, or notice me ripping out my hair DON’T WORRY; it will pass.

Reminder: if you miss reading the more mundane details of my daily life, you can stay up-to-the-minute with me by following my twitter OR check the daily rundown of my tweets on DailyTrixie.

Delia and I head to Portland tomorrow (Monday) and won’t be back home until Thursday. We picked a hotel with cute rooms to do some shooting and her doctor appointment to get hormones is on Wednesday down there. She has been waiting a long time for this and probably will still be sitting on the prescription for awhile until we find out if there’s a reason for me not being pregnant yet after six months of trying. We know her sperm is fine so next week I have a doctor appointment that will probably include (or lead up to) an ultrasound and an xray with dye shot up into my tubes to see if there are any blockages. Depending on what the diagnosis is with me, she’ll decide how much more sperm she wants to bank and how much longer we’ll keep trying the natural way if that isn’t ruled completely futile.

It’s about a four hour trip each way for us, so I’ll try to make a phone post or two while we’re on the road. I’m not sure if our laptop will cooperate with us once we’re down there, so we might not have any spycams up while we’re gone (edited to add: and I WILL NOT BE CHECKING OR RESPONDING TO EMAIL).

People are asking whether or not we’re pregnant yet, and we still don’t know. Here’s the latest news regarding our fertility.

I almost did something crazy just now . . . I started filling out an application to work in a grocery store.

Oh my god! Is money REALLY that tight for Trixie? Or is she quitting webwhoring? Errr . . . what the fuck?

It’s nothing like that. It’s actually more embarrassing than that; I don’t NEED another job, I just really like cashiering. Sometimes when I go to the store I am jealous, and I just think it would be fun to pick up a Saturday or holiday shift or a busy dinner rush now and again. Sometimes I just want to get out of the house and do something regular, normal . . . something with a rhythm and set of rules. Something with clearly defined boundaries. Something where I pick things up, move them only a couple feet, then set them down in a bag. Something that doesn’t require a lot of complex thought. Something that doesn’t involve planning for the future. Someplace where I’m never asked to make big decisions.

Sometimes I’m just tired of being in our house, and I don’t want to socialize exactly, but I want to interact (in very predictable, regimented ways) with people. I guess normal people would go out and have a drink with friends in my situation, but that is SO INTENSELY BORING AND COUNTERPRODUCTIVE TO ME. The thought of sitting in a bar drinking to relax just bores me STIFF. But the thought of having a mundane, repetitive job sounds relaxing and wonderful to me. I like counting money and typing on little keypads and scanning things. I would be standing up and lifting things! I would feel so efficient and pleasantly robotic.

I know I have a college education and I don’t *have* to get a job like “that”, but how can I explain how much I want one sometimes? Sometimes I just want things to be simple, rote. Cashiering is like a video game job.

I can’t really afford to take time off from our sites to have a smiling robot job, though. Part of me seductively whispers that maybe it would REFRESH me for my real job here in internet porn. If I knew I wouldn’t be pressured to work when I couldn’t and I knew I wouldn’t have to wash toilets or face product or, god forbid, MOP anything, and I could just work at a checkstand, like, once a week or something . . . I would totally do it.

I feel like I shouldn’t be admitting this.

I feel embarrassed about this desire, but today isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way. Lately I have been fantasizing about getting a temporary job doing data entry (there’s nothing like that available in our town so it really is just a fantasy). I enjoy the world of what-other-people-consider to-be menial labor. I enjoy the structure of it. And I really like typing. Do you know that? I REALLY LIKE TYPING. I like the sound of it, the feeling of it. I like the cadence of data entry. I like escaping into work that only requires lower-level thinking. I have told myself that I could pretend in my head that I’m only getting a job like that as research for a book, but that would be a lie. I just like learning the little subcultures of wage-earners.

People who’ve never had normal jobs like this, I’ll bet they don’t know how fascinating they can be and how interesting the people you work with are. There are the people who are surprisingly interesting, and there are the people who are predictably dull. And I usually like them all. I would never want to feel stuck in a job like that, but those kinds of jobs can be extremely SATISFYING. They’re mechanical, manageable, and fun to master.

My job(s) right now? I will never “master” any of them. Sometimes that’s really cool and exciting and sometimes it just makes me feel tired and want to cry.

Sometimes I just want to have a stack of work and see it visibly reduced as I complete each piece, one at a time. Sometimes I just want to know when my shift is over. Sometimes I just want to be faster than someone else. Sometimes I just want things to be simple, and to go home and spend the whole night reading a book or watching tv without feeling guilty about it because I should be doing something creative and productive and special. Sometimes I don’t feel like I can be productively creative and sometimes I don’t want to be special. Sometimes I just want to be a worker bee and enjoy being a well-oiled piece in a bigger machine. Sometimes I want to be able to blame corporate or upper management or just some dickwad above me for my problems and limited range of motion. Sometimes I am just so tired of not having anyone to blame but myself.

Sometimes I just want to know exactly what the people in charge of my paycheck want from me, and to be able to ask them that point blank if I don’t. What do you want from me? Sometimes I just want to know who those people are, and have there only be one or two of them. With my job(s) right now, it really is cool and almost divine to be able to make so many people happy in so many different ways, but it makes repeated success complicated and unpredictable. Everyone wants something different and everyone is so many people in so many different time zones. Who are they? What do they want from me NOW? This is not easy, and the only way to make it easy is to only care about yourself in a way that requires turning inward too far.

Sometimes I want to know that I can quit, but the problem is that I can’t. I can never and will never quit this job I have now. This is my work and it’s what I’m supposed to do with most of my life. Sometimes it’s boring to have found your life’s work and know that you’re never actually going to be GREAT at it. It (in all of the different forms it does and will take) will be special, but it won’t be GREAT. The best I can hope for and work towards is that someday it will be more profitable, but money is not as great a motivator as greatness, so these days I move forward very slowly.

Sometimes I’m depressed, and that sometime is now (especially without the wonderful, magical, mood-stabilizing happiness that is hormonal birth control). Sometimes I feel like a failure for being a regular person, and sometimes I feel like I’m about to really EMBRACE being average and become crazily happy with that. Sometimes I am.

Well, we *were* going to go to a wild sex party. And not at one of those poorly-decorated swinger pads, (aka Why I am not a Swinger) either. This event is at a hip hotel (in a city requiring about eight hours each way of travel time for us) with an informed-Goth theme and many creatively nerdy/sexy rules and themed play areas. FYI: Delia and I have never gone to a wild sex party together. Yes, we’re pornographers and all, but we’re almost completely hermitlike and monogamous. We aren’t deeply committed to being so solitary, we’re just homebodies and it happens to work out that way; too lazy to fuck other people, it seems.

We were actually looking forward to this party, though, which is why we decided to go against our better judgment. It wasn’t the whips, potential sex with strangers, or squirting bodily fluids worrying us . . . it was Who’s going to take care of the dog while we’re out of state? Is our house going to be okay while we’re gone with our dumb-ass neighbor’s thieving, abusive boyfriend right next door casing the joint? Can we really afford to take a trip, even a small one, right now? How are we going to make up for taking time off when we also have Delia’s sperm deposit appointment in Seattle next week? Are we going to be able to enjoy Delia’s birthday/Halloween with all of this time and money spent away? Is my period going to start while we’re there? If not, am I going to be suffering so horribly from PMS that I’m an absolute horror to be around? How are four people going to get ready for a costume party in one bathroom?

So we changed our minds and decided to stay home. I feel really badly about it because our friends Torn and Toni invited us and upgraded their room to make a place for us to stay. I like to think I’m a person who guiltlessly says “no”, but I think I’m deceiving myself about that because I often do feel anxious about turning down opportunities. I can’t let myself feel TOO badly about it, though, because I know I’m making the right decision. Still, I’m always afraid people are going to stop asking us to do things because a) I rarely say yes, and b) I act like THIS regardless.

A big obstacle for me right now in making social time happen is that spending time with my family is a higher priority, and I haven’t seen my nephew this entire month; I hate that I’m missing seeing him grow and change. I also haven’t seen my mom who is leaving Friday on a trip to Austin and going to be gone for a couple of weeks. And I haven’t finished building my brother-in-law’s website. As you may have gathered from this post, I really REALLY want to spend more time with my family, so while it’s still a challenge to spend lots of time with them, I have a hard time justifying taking trips and time off to not spend time with them.

I also have come to accept something about myself; while I do love people and spending time with them, it’s hardly ever “time off” for me. In fact, it tires me out. If I’m going to spend a day with people, I usually need to spend the day after by myself/just with Delia, vegging out to recuperate. Time off, for me, means limiting stimuli. Reading, spacing out, and umm, even doing work is usually more like time off for me than socializing. If I don’t recuperate from socializing, I’m pretty fucking useless and next week? We just won’t have time to laze around mending my hyperextended social muscles.

I’m also getting really frustrated with our baby-making “project”; my energy feels really preoccupied with that and focused on limiting distractions. I seriously don’t know how much longer I can handle being off the pill (or not pumped up on femme pregnancy hormones), because my PMS is sinking me to low points I’d rather not scrape.

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So, our plans have changed for this weekend. We *will* still be gone Friday night and perhaps much of Saturday to visit my sister/nephew/brother-in-law since we won’t just be using it as a launching pad for party travel. I’m going to keep my shows canceled and use that time to plan Halloween and Delia’s birthday or, an alternate plan is that we’ll rent a room Sunday night to do some shooting. We’ll see what happens. Maybe I’ll just lie on the couch in a PMS funk.

Today we have to do some shooting. I feel anxious and depressed and it sucks, but not so bad that I don’t realize it will pass.

CRAZY HORNY

A few of my favorite photos from my “2000 Calorie Bush” gallery inspired by something Sarah Silverman said about mascara:

Note: though I’ve been posting quite a few black and white images here, the vast majority of photos on our sites are in color.

Sometime today or tonight I’ll post a video that goes along with these photos for members. First I have to capture the video, edit it, and upload it which will be a good set of tasks for me since my brain is frighteningly scattered and overwhelmed so far today. Wish it luck.

Being off the pill makes my attention deficit disorder worse. It also makes me CRAZY HORNY. I started a masturbation log in my members-only blog to keep track of my masturbation habits and what kind of porn and toys I sometimes use to fuel my sessions. Even as I wrote that line, I got excited and now I feel really annoyingly tense and achy below the waist. It’s absolutely ridiculous and drives me up a fucking wall.

This blog entry would have been longer, but I have to go masturbate now. And when I say, “have to”, I really REALLY mean it.

I feel incredibly exhausted. My period is due today and I feel deliciously magnetized to the ground. I tried eating a banana, but it didn’t improve my energy. I tried taking a walk, but that didn’t energize me either. I want to just FLOP into bed and lay there, heavy and bloblike.

I don’t feel bad-tired, I feel good-tired. Like this is what chill weather, a waxing moon, and hot chocolate are made for; for me to wrap myself in flannel and dream about an isolated glacial mountain retreat town, nearly deserted, and my mom and I climbing up and down a rickety frightening staircase built into steep shifty slopes of ice. This is the second or third weird and vivid fraught-with-danger ice-mountain travel-dream I’ve had in as many months. Frozen mountain ranges are a very new setting for my dreams; unless there is some wild symbolic meaning, the only inspiration I can find for this setting is Lord of the Rings, particularly one of the video games where I had to spend a lot of time trying to get past the early snowy mountain-range scene. But that was a year ago! It could also have been inspired by reading His Dark Materials and all of the brilliant arctic-feeling scenes. Mmmm!! Heaven would be a week snowed into a cozy cabin with those three splendid books. Anyway, I’ve never dreamt much of mountains before this, either, at least not that I recall right now. I *have* been plagued by stressful dreams involving staircases for a very long time (since I was a child, and our house didn’t even have stairs in it).

“Glacier” is not in my dream encyclopedia, but snow and ice are predictably described as symbols of blocked emotions. Whatever. Mountains and stairs have similarly silly symbolic meaning attached to them. I’m too lazy to delve into this with more depth, and would prefer not to receive any interpretations from others.