PMS PMS PMS PMS - MUST HAVE ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM NOW!!!!!!!!!

Yeah, I know I said I was dieting. Shut up. Don't make me have to hurt you....

Shoes! Shoes! I love new shoes. New boots, to be exact. We're in the pre-leathercon shopping phase, because Kinkfest is only three weeks away!

We're also in the pre-leathercon strict-diet-and-excercise phase, which is less fun, but also crucial. So now I have to get out of this chair and go to the gym. Watch me struggle to contain my mad enthusiasm...

So my editor at The Stranger emailed today and asked me to write a review of The Passion Of Christ. I didn't have any particular interest in the movie, but I'm always interested in doing more writing, so I called Jaelle and we went to go see it together.
I'll post a link to the review when it's published, but my initial reaction is : eeuw. I've seen Braveheart, so I knew Mel Gibson had a blood fetish, but - whew. Seriously gory.
And not a particularly affecting movie, either. I mean, I was raised Catholic, so I know the backstory, but really, once you leave the theatre, it doesn't stay with you, because you don't get to know Mel's Jesus. (Or his Mary, or anybody else. You get a snippet of Pontias Pilate, but only a snippet.)
So my grade: C. It's filmed beautifully, and someone did a one HELL of a job on Jesus's body makeup. And it's sort of interesting as a cultural touchpoint. But it's a nine-days-wonder.

So I went to a financial-planning seminar last night that was packed full of older-wealthy-establishment types. The speaker was talking about investment strategies, particularly in the stock market. Then he mentioned how presidential elections affect the stock market. One person asked, "How do the different types of administrations affect the stock market?" He answered, "Historically, the stock market does better under the Democrats."
I could see that some of the audience was surprised by that answer and I thought, Hah, there's another couple of votes for Kerry...

So it looks like I'll be voting for John Kerry for President in November. Of course, I'd vote for Jack Black if they ran him against The Shrub, I'm a member of the ABB Party - "Anyone But Bush".

But I like Kerry well enough, and I hope he taps John Edwards for VP. I think Edwards would make a good president - eight years from now. He seems a little young yet.

Come on, November! God, I want GWB outa that house!

Okay, the "Comment" feature is back...Of course, I lost all the old comments. Grrr. Oh well, off to work...

Whoops....

Damn, damn, damn- I tried to make some changes and my 'puter crashed...now I'll have to re-do all the modifcations and re-add the Comment feature...Oh well, look for that back in a day or two....

Sigh. Some days just don't go like you'd planned them. I hate that.

Today I am sitting down in front of the keyboard and I am writing. I have many many things to write and I will NOT be distracted, do you hear me? I have a diet Mountain Dew, I have a bowl of strawberries, I have the space heater keeping my office a happy 78 degrees, the phone is turned off, my email is caught up...in short, no excuses. Write.

So I went to go see this play "Mama Don't Hurt Me So Bad". And I had my suspicions before I even went. But nothing had prepared me for the actual event...

Oh. My. God. It was horrible. It was really, really terrible. It was...stupendously, magnificently awful. It was like watching a slow-motion train wreck. For three hours. It was, hands-down, the worst live performance I have ever seen.

It wasn't the actors. They actually had some decent performers, although they were clearly under-rehearsed. But the script - if you can call it that - was terrible: hackneyed and repetitive lines, a glacially slow pace, and confusingly random and disjointed action. I mean, the different acts seemed to only have the slightest hints of a connection to the others. There was no director listed on the program, so perhaps they didn't have one, which would explain a lot.

Plus, although the play is subtitled "an S&M Fantasy", it had nothing whatsoever to do with SM! The website claims it takes place "in a dungeon." It doesn't! There are two brief bits where one character hits another one a few times with a riding crop. That's it. That's the entire part that SM plays in this production.

Unbelievably bad. Horrible. So bad I'm thinking of standing outside the theatre tomorrow night and warning people, "Don't go! Save yourselves!" I'm also thinking of writing a column about it, even though I might feel a little bad about panning the show...But geeze, it's the truth. And I also hate seeing people exploit poor defenseless SM. Shows like this give us kinky artists a bad name.

Got a note back this morning from the image thief saying: gee, she didn't know who the photographer was, so she had no way of getting permission to use it. The implication being that she wasn't at fault, but that the photographer had somehow failed in HIS responsibility. Amazing. I know that Tommy has sent her an email, so I hope he tears her a new one. Or sends her a bill.

On a more pleasant note, Jae and I are going to go see a play that's (supposedly) about BDSM tonight, called "Mama Don't Hurt Me So Bad". I admit I have reservations. One sees so few accurate representations of BDSM in popular culture.
But it'll be fun to hang with Jae. She might also have either a) her current male part-time lover or b) her current female sometimes-lover come along too. One never knows with Jae, which is, I suppose, part of her charm.

I'm pissed off tonight, because I found a website with stolen pictures of me on it...It's certainly not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. I've done a fair amount of erotic/nude modeling and some of those pictures are on the web - either on my sites, or on the sites of the photographer. That's where they belong. But these lame-ass, no-account, shit-for-brains wanna-bees see my pictures, think they're cool, and STEAL them to use on their own little rinky-dink site!

I know, I know: I should take it as a compliment, it's not really hurting anything...yeah yeah, I've heard all that, and I'm not buying it. Image thieves really, really piss me off. Models and photographers invest time, money, and energy in producing a good image, and then some little twerp thinks all they have is right-click and it belongs to them?

Oh, and here's a topper: this particular chick is using a picture of me in such a way that it suggests it's a picture of HER. In her dreams. Grrr...

I wrote her a email, which I have had no response to, and dropped a note to the photographer, the uber-fabu Tommy Edwards, and he's all over it. So we'll see what happens...Fucking stealing!

My thanks to Jae for pointing out the thief to me....and then, afterwards, for coming over, bringing me strawberries, and giving me a really wonderful massage. I'm sure it lowered my blood pressure significantly. You rock, Bobcat.

What a desperate, pathetic, and malicious bunch of crap...

President Bush supports a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriage.

God, I have a column to write, I have a million clients to see, I have a fucking video-interview for this reality TV show that wants me (and I just know they aren't going to offer me enough money, damn it), I have workshops to plan, the house looks like a bomb went off, and I still have a sore throat from breathing in smoke at Club Medusa Saturday night. Pity me, the frazzled Mistress.

So, I've kind of been lying around the house like a lazy cat all day, because I was out til 4am last night after performing at Club Medusa...I had beautiful victims in Jae, Jane Duvall and another lovely girl, and my friend Malixe got some pictures of us. It's all just slap and tickle, really, but the crowd seems to enjoy it. The show went okay, til I was doing the 3rd and final set with Jae, and a security guy jumped up onstage and said, "Stop, stop, the Liquor Board is here!"
Whoops...See, it's a violation of a liquor license to do stuff like "flagellation" in a bar. (That means no flogging or spanking, among other things – and if you'd like to know what else you can't do in a bar in Washington, go here.)
So that was the end of that, which was actually fine with me. I got dressed and went to breakfast with Max and Jae and a handful of folks at Minnie's, and came home and crashed. Really, the older I get, the less I like noisy smoky bars full of stupid drunk people. I'm such a curmudgeon.
Tonight my sweetie is out to dinner with a buddy, and I'm home being blissfully quiet and alone. Mmmnnnn….

Damn...talked to The Stranger and they don't want to sponsor any more events til May. Bummer.

Okay - Plan B: Talk to Toys In Babeland and see if they're interested in doing something sooner, because I'm getting lots of plaintive little "when is the party?" emails from the original respondents.

I do understand their eagerness, but I had no idea I'd get so many responses! I thought I'd get, oh, a dozen or so, and I'd vet them a little and them just add them on to a smallish cocktail party at my house.
But I'm not about inviting close to one hundred strangers into my home, no way. (Let alone footing the bill for such a party.)

So, I'm trying to get some corporate cash to pay for a private room and some cocktail nibbles at some queer-friendly bar/restaraunt. (People can buy their own drinks!)
Let's see how I do with the second pitch.

Ah, Caffeine...
I am something of an anomaly in this bean-obsessed town, because I rarely drink coffee - a mocha occasionally.
No, when I wake up, I reach for...diet Mountain Dew. The highest caffeine content, yay!

And I need to finish at least one can before I try to talk sensibly to anyone except my nearest and dearest. Right now I'm waiting for my brain to fully engage before I call The Stranger. I'm trying to put together a largeish party inspired by the huge response I got to
this particular column about bi women.

I got no less than seventy emails about it and they're still trickling in. So hopefully I can get a little corporate sponsorship here, cross your fingers for me.

Busy Girl...

I'm tired tonight - I had a busy day, first dealing with lots of daily-daily life stuff (the car needs an oil change, FedEx off this package, make appointments for X, Y and Z).

And then I had a three hour session with a client - with dinner afterwards. I very, very rarely go out to dinner (or anything else) with clients. I know other sex workers who do this all the time, but usually I'm just not that comfortable with it.

But this particular client books a lot of time with me, and that counts for something. And he's also an intelligent and pleasant person generally. So while I wouldn't want to make a habit of it, dinner was very nice.

It's looking like a busy week - I've already got just about all of my available client-time booked up through Friday, and Friday night I'm doing a show at Club Medusa. So I'm guessing by Saturday I'll be pretty wiped out.

I just yawned an enormous yawn...so I think I'll go to bed, right now...

Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a (wo)man of wealth and taste...

Okay, now that the Rolling Stones flashback is over....Let me really introduce myself: My name is Mistress Matisse.

I live in Seattle, where I have the pleasure to be - among many other things - a sex columnist for Seattle's coolest alt-weekly, The Stranger.My column is called "Control Tower", and you can read it here.
I decided to start blogging for two reasons: I'd like a place to kick around ideas for future columns, and because I'd like a place to talk about local events in the sex-positive community. I'm hoping it'll also be a way for some of my friends to keep up with what I'm up to, since I'm way busy all the time and am thus not always so fast with my email correspondence...
So here we go...