Whoops, I forgot to link to the new column. It's a bit... tart. But you know I only say these things because you laugh.

Also: Since Phil Gramm says only whiners think we're going to have/having a recession, and I don't want to be a whiner... I'm window-shopping online. (Plus, someone who indulges me suggested to me that I should.)

And I really, really want this bronze leather jacket. Doesn't it just say "decadent excess" to you?

Happy Friday - and it's time for another podcast. This time, Monk and I talk about a subject we are eminently qualified to discuss: How to keep your BDSM light and fun. Money quote:
Matisse: Anything a man says to you when he has a hard-on doesn't count.
Monk: That means half of what I've said to you in our relationship doesn't count!

(About ten minutes long, and clearly unsafe for work.)

Oh, man. See, this is why I’m not sure I want to be any more famous than I am. The New York Times ran an article this week about the fact that all links and references to sex writer Violet Blue have been systematically removed from the website Boing Boing. (Need a password? Use one of these.)

This isn’t recent news, and I’m not sure why the NYT decided to talk about it now. But they did, and they speculated that the “unpublishing” happened because of a personal issue between Violet Blue and one of the site’s contributors, Xeni Jardin. I myself do not know Ms. Jardin, and I have only an electronic acquaintance with Ms. Blue. So I do not have any idea what really happened there. Nor do I think it’s any of my business. But then, I don’t really think it’s anyone’s business.

Granted, the writer also posed – but did not answer – a few token questions about the responsibilities of bloggers, which is not an uninteresting subject. But overall, the whole thing just felt really gossipy to me. Oscar Wilde once said the only thing worse than being talked about was not being talked about. I know what he meant, and I often enjoy my tiny bit of celebrity-dom. But I also know I would hate it if my private affairs were being commented on in the bloody New York Times. Luckily, that doesn't seem like something that's likely to happen.

Writing about one’s life is tricky sometimes. It’s not just a matter of what I’m comfortable revealing to the world – I have to be careful not to say too much about other people, either. But sometimes it’s difficult not to write what I’m thinking. No matter what other verbal path I start down, my fingers wind up typing out whatever is at the front of my brain.

And what I’m thinking about lately is: Man, there is a lot of polyamory tension in the air lately! Just seems like a number of people are having trouble making the courses of their different loves run smooth. It’s funny how it seems to go in streaks – for a while everyone will be rolling along just fine, and then there’s a seismic shift, the ground moves under our feet, and everyone starts stumbling and crashing into each other.

None of this trouble is mine, and I’m profoundly grateful for how well things are going between me and Max, and me and Monk. I cannot tell you how many times I have turned to each of them in the last few weeks and said, “Thank you so much for being so amazingly cool.” And they have said the same to me, which is nice.

So I’m watching all these other storms spinning around me, like the Tasmanian devils in Bugs Bunny. And not only is it hard to not write about it, it’s hard to not speak up real life, too. One wants to pet people and say things like, “Oh, honey, I see that this is being hard for you, but just breathe - your sweetie loves you, everything is going to be all right, and this yucky part will pass.” This generic bit of advice being applicable to the majority of poly upsets.

But I don’t give advice unless I’m asked for it. Unless, of course, I can’t seem to write about anything else.

Pop Culture

I saw two movies over the weekend, which is slightly unusual for me. And more oddly still, I had a moment of yeah, that’s happened to me in each of them.

The first one was Get Smart, which I saw with Max Friday night. There’s a scene where Agent 99, played by Anne Hathaway, is tied up in the back seat of a car during a high-speed chase. The car is being driven by her former lover, who’s a double agent. He’s going to kill her and set off a bomb, but they get sidetracked into sniping at each other, in a manner typical of ex-lovers.

Stung by a jab of Anne’s, he yells back at her, “Well, some men like women who are feminine!”

Anne rears up in outrage and screeches, “Are you calling me unfeminine?” And, while still tied up, kicks him in the face – hard.

Which to me does not seem like a completely unreasonable response in that circumstance. I have never actually kicked someone in the face, but I myself have been called unfeminine, and at the time it I got rather annoyed by it. I knew, intellectually, that what it meant was “You scare me. Women aren’t supposed to scare men. Therefore you are not acting like a woman.” I would imagine pretty much any woman who’s strong-minded, independent, and direct about what she wants, in bed and out of it, gets this at least once in her life, if not more. It’s one of those put-downs that utterly reveals the insecurities of person who says it.

But still – at the time, it pissed me off. So I thought, “Yeah, you just go, girl. Show his ass unfeminine.”

Then on Saturday night, Monk and I went to see Wanted, with Angelina Jolie. It was what he and I call a Gun-Porn movie - meaning a movie in which sexy people with really BIG guns shoot each other over and over.

In this movie, Angelina and James McAvoy are professional assassins. There’s a scene in which the two of them are crouched in hiding, waiting to spring out and kill someone. James turns to Angelina and says, “Do you ever think about being… some other way?” When she displays confusion, he says, “You know, like not doing this. Like just being…normal?”

Angelina looks at him like he’s crazy. “No.”

And then they leap out to kill someone. Which again, I have never done, and don’t plan on doing. But still – I have had people indicate to me that my life wasn’t what they considered normal. It wasn’t a compliment. Some of them had a mistaken idea that I would change it to suit them. My solution was to invite them to not participate in it.

I really want that short white leather jacket Agent 99 was wearing for a chunk of the movie, and if anyone calls me unfeminine while I’m in it, well, there’s just no telling what I might do. Because I’m really not interested in being someone else’s idea of normal.

Wow, I’m not feeling super-inspired, writing-wise, the last week or so. And my motto is: when you can’t think of anything else to say - make fun of people.

Thus, the complete and unedited text of an email I received.

Wish to surrender, be blindfolded, restrained, whipped until cry/blood spilt, used by any number of males/females, like the star in The Story of O for however long you wish and anything else you wish, including branding.

All right, there’s nothing dramatically wrong with the basic idea here. But – why does this person not use the word I? People who don’t say I remind me of old Charlie Chan movies – that faux-Asian accent thing.

Nice to know branding is included. It’s always a pain when you get the contract and read the fine print and see that they want to bill your credit card separately for that.

I like how he/she specifies that they would be like the star of The Story of O. It was my observation of the book/movie that pretty much all the bottoms got those things done to them – but then, we are all the star in the movies in our heads, aren’t we?

But if you think of it terms of movies… Well, when I read emails like this, I can hear the voice of Miss K – she of the brutally honest response – saying “Why do I care about this?” Jae would probably say, “Yeah, and people in hell want ice water. So what?” That’s because one thing all three of us have in common is that we all have a background in theatre and writing. When you tell a story, either on a stage or on a page, if you wish to capture your audience, you must make them care about your character. A flat statement of need does not emotionally engage people.

It’s not like I’m trolling for slaves amongst one-line emails from strangers in any case. But messages like this certainly do not make me wish to add the writer to my cast of characters.

This is something I’ve been wondering about lately, because of one of my friends’ argument’s for pre-marital sex. She’s of the opinion that you should have sex before marriage so you can dump them if they’re a lousy lay, or you don't have a conveniently common kink, or whatever.

So in that vein, pretend for a moment that you have room in your life for another long-term partner. You meet someone. They’re gorgeous, they’re intelligent, they’re witty, you’re in love with them… but they’re completely vanilla. Not only have they never done kink before, almost everything about BDSM is squicky to them. Black leather makes them raise an eyebrow, the purpose of your spanking bench and floggers completely eludes them, and the thought of needles, canes, or electrocution gives them a touch of the vapours. Would you be able to have a romantic relationship with this person? Why/why not?

I cannot believe anyone would get married without having sex first. I mean, I know people do, but... good lord. I simply cannot wrap my little brain around that idea.

This is kind of a muddled question. It hinges on whether or not the hypothetical me is poly. Because I have had ongoing sexual relationships with people who weren’t seriously kinky. Do a search for “Mike”, a guy with whom I had a delightful FWB thing a couple of years ago, before I started dating Monk. He’s a lovely man, it was a charming little affair – and he’s not into BDSM. He wasn’t squicked, he just sort of shrugged and said, “Well, if you really want me to, I would try, but…” A GG&G response, but not a sacrifice I needed.

And while Mike wasn’t into BDSM, he was perfectly fine and respectful about the fact that I was.

So yeah, not being kinky is a handicap, and it’s going to present a challenge to any long-term, high-frequency relationship. But for an occasional thing? Sure.

And, quite frankly, I have a good track record with converting people to kink. But as with Mike, I don’t always feel it’s necessary that I should.

(Yes, I know I’ve said I don’t know how you can get your partner to be kinky. It’s true, I don’t. I know some ways I would try to get your partner to be kinky, but that’s different. There are some skills I possess that I simply cannot explain. Besides, as persuasive as I am, even my conversion rate is not 100%.)

Would I be monogamous with such a person? No. But I wouldn’t be monogamous with anyone, so the point is moot.

But what jumped out at me from this letter was the fast slide between, “You meet someone. They’re gorgeous, they’re intelligent, they’re witty,” and then “ you’re in love with them.” I have met gorgeous, intelligent, witty people with whom I’m actually not in love. I’ve even slept with some of them. Sexual attraction, taking pleasure in someone’s company, having fun times together, attachment, affection and caring on both sides – those are all things I’ve experienced a fair amount of. But being In Love? Whoa, that’s big time.

So no, I don’t think I could fall in love with someone who treated a significant part of my identity with active disdain. I think there’s something more than sexual going awry with someone who does.

Ya'll have been asking for it, so Monk and I made it happen: another podcast. In this edition, he and I both give our take on how to share information about a new partner in polyamory with your existing partners. Hope you enjoy it...

Photos And Events

I told ya'll there would be a lot of pictures this week. Here’s another snap from my weekly narcissism date with Monk at the shmancy tanning salon.

I think my ribcage looks weird in this shot - like I have an extra boob or something. However, I am assured that other people will like it.

In the name of gender parity, I will mention that there’s a also naked picture of Monk in the “moderated” Flickr stream. (You won't see any naked ones if you're not signed in.)

Have a lovely weekend, and also, it's Gay Pride weekend here in Seattle, so Happy Pride Day!

It's a Two-Fer Thursday: the new Stranger column, about how much I hated working at Rick's and a special piece, about how much I hated being legally married. Enjoy!

So, I haven't posted photos of the evil things that I do for a while, it seems like it's time. Some of you will love them, some of you will flinch and say "Ew!" And none of you you should look at them at work. Big Needles and Many Clothespins. (This second one has boy-bits in it, so don't go if looking at those frightens you.

Please note: these images are a bit too aggressive for the Flickr stream. So I put them up on Photobucket, where I imagine they'll get pulled within a couple of hours. But that's okay - when I get home later today to my desktop computer, I will relocate them to my own webspace. I just don't have my FTP software installed on my laptop.

On the topic of photos: also be aware that if you're checking the Flickr stream, there are images you won't see unless you're signed in to a Flickr account. Those are the "moderate" images. Only the really tame ones get shown to non-signed-in people.

Want something entirely non-sexual, silly, and work-safe? I have a video clip of me vacuuming my cat. I'm serious. My pals didn't believe me, so I made a video clip. (My cat is so old now that she's deaf, and thus she doesn't mind the noise.) I made it with my new little Flip video cam, which is being great fun. 30 seconds, has sound.

I'm having fun with the Blackberry cam.



Taken at 8pm last night, in this super-space-age tanning machine Monk and I go to sometimes. This is not photoshopped, that's the color of the light. It's trippy. The damn thing is huge, it looks like a CAT scan machine.

Personally, I think tanning salons are all just a ruse - a big government conspiracy. I think this machine is actually a CIA device that's scanning my brain when I'm in it. I could wear a tinfoil hat, although for all I know this thing is like a microwave and my head would burst into flames if I did that. So what the hell, I can enjoy thinking about some spook getting all flustered by what he sees inside my head.

Letter From a Reader

(Begins with very nice greetings and compliments)

I am writing to ask if you can shed any light upon a most confusing email I recently received.

You see, I work as a costumed entertainer, primarily for children's parties, doing balloon animals, face painting, party games, and such. And I, like many people, have large magnetic signs on my vehicle advertising such, and listing my website.

My website lists my business email, which is unrelated to my personal account or my blog. Yesterday I received an email to this work account which was entitled: "Just a question" I open it, assuming it is a possible gig, and find this text enclosed within:

"I saw your ad on your vehicle and I was just wondering, do you have a foot fetish or are you involved in the BDSM scene? sites to check out: (he gave her the link of a foot fetish porn site)"

On second glance I find the email address to be (I kid you not) "dirt_beneath_mistress_feet@DELETED.com".

Is this a new form of spam that I am unaware of? Is there something in my advertising or website (if you are curious, I will be more than happy to send you the link), that would convince someone that I was involved with the BDSM scene? (I'm not, locally, because I work with children. Only online and under a web handle.) Or is this just a very confused person who has picked me out at random?

Any light you could shed on this would be greatly appreciated.

Oh, he's not confused. And he's not being what I'd call random, either. He's being hugely inappropriate, but that's different.

Part of this is that clown performance - like damn near every other type of performance that changes/disguises someone's appearance - can be sexualized by fetishists.

Shocked? Think about it. Clown performance lends itself easily to a fetish. Clowns, in their makeup and costumes, don't look like real people. They engage in highly stylized behavior, much of which would be either impossible or impermissible in anyone else. They are close to being cartoon creatures, which is why kids are believed to like them. (Although I know just as many people who say they feared and hated clowns as children. Or even as adults.)

So: crazy costumes and wild yet often ritualistic behavior? The parallels to more traditional kink are very clear. Thus, by some people, it's sexualized.

If you've been doing clown performance for long, I'm surprised you haven't run into this before. Jae used to be a clown, and she has many stories about the father's of birthday children getting turned on by her clown persona and hitting on her.

There's nothing wrong with getting hot for clowns. (Okay, yeah, it's not a fetish that gets you the same awed respect as doing, say, flesh-hook suspension. But there's nothing wrong with it.)

But writing lewd emails to strange women, who have invited no such thing, is wrong. I have written before about the archaic phrase "a public woman". You are in the same category as my female pal of that blog post: you're a woman who is putting certain information about herself out the public. Many people understand that you're seeking professional attention, not sexual attention. But there's a breed of man for whom no such distinction exists. A woman who advertises herself in any way is a woman advertising her sexuality. Or at least, his fantasy about her sexuality, and how he might avail himself of it. Your admirer may think he wants a dominant woman, but in fact, he is being the opposite of submissive. He's reminding you that to him, you are nothing but a viewing screen on which to project his fantasy. Being dirt beneath mistress's feet has apparently given this guy an extremely one-dimensional view of other people's sexuality.

(Internal Dialog: Oh, god, it's one am. I'm tired, I had a busy day being kinky, and then I went to the sound studio and recorded a bunch of podcasts - which I think will be great - and then I sat down and finished the column, and now I do not have even one creative atom left in my body.

But I didn't really post anything yesterday, either. I have to post something. Damn, what am I gonna do?

Wait! Oh good lord, I almost forgot. I have the secret weapon! It's what a girl blogger can do when all else fails, creatively.)

Aloud: Ah-hem. Hi, everyone. I put up a slightly naked - whoops, I mean, artistic - picture, in the Flickr stream.

Enjoy. See you tomorrow.


(Edit: D'oh! Flickr is being persnickety about showing my naked stomach, apparently. So I direct-linked the image, go here if you want to see the rest of my random Blackberry pictures.)

I don't have a real post for today, and you know who is to blame for that? Mary Roach. I can hardly stop reading her latest book, Bonk: The Curious Coupling Of Science and Sex long enough to even write my Stranger column. It's hilarious. This is the funniest book I have ever read about sex. (It's well on it's way to being one of the funniest books I've read, period. And that's a lot of books.)

I was also enthralled, in a different sort of way, by Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers. I actually read it chunks of it out loud to Monk when we were in bed at night, much to his mingled fascination and disgust.

The one about ghosts and the afterlife? It was interesting, because I don't think Ms. Roach is capable of being dull. Not her best, though. Bonk, however, is just six shades of awesome, and you should buy it, now.

So I must stop reading and laughing and reading and laughing, and buckle down to work.

But! Good news. Monk and I are going to record some more podcasts tonight. So if you have a question - especially a complex one that needs a lengthy, rambling answer (including a lot of tasteless and silly jokes), send it along to me, pronto.

Letters From Readers

I've read and enjoyed your blog for some time now and I was hoping you could give me some advice or steer me in the right direction.

I've had a great 30 year marriage with my wife and for the most part we've communicated well and enjoyed a great sex life. The part that I'd like your advice on is getting her to be interested in some kinky things. I've asked her in a number of different settings what I could do for her that she's been reluctant to ask for or if there's any fantasy or different things she'd like to try. She says she's quite happy with the sexual relationship we have now, and indeed she seems to be. She's willing to listen to what I'm interested in but it's hard for her to turn on the intensity in this area….I really have no desire to see a professional, because it's the relationship aspect with her that would make this hot for me.

This is probably a very common question and I know you're not Dear Abby. Any suggestions?

Darlin’, this is not A common question, it’s THE single most common question I get asked. (The close second is “How do I find a kinky partner?”)

People’s sexuality evolves over time. That’s normal. I don’t know why some people develop certain kinks, and others don’t. But I know that for a lot of long-term couples, sexual tastes become divergent. All the other good parts are still there, but in matters of sex, people drift apart.

Unfortunately, I know of no easy way to fix this. One has to communicate, which you say that you’re doing. One should also be open to one's partner’s sexual interests, which you say you are. But like the song says, you can't always get what you want. There’s a lot of possible reasons why your wife isn’t into doing kinky sex with you, and I can’t say what they might be. I can just lay out your options as I see them…

You can accept that your wife isn’t currently into this, stop asking, and not get this desire met.

You can accept that your wife isn’t currently into this, but ask her to go see a couple’s therapist with you to talk about your sex life.

You can accept that your wife isn’t currently into this and tell her that you’re going to get the need met elsewhere. (And deal with her response to that.)

You can accept that your wife isn’t currently into this and get the need met elsewhere without telling her about it.

Note that all these options begin with you accepting that your wife isn’t currently into this. I don’t know of any magic way of getting people to like what they don’t like, sexually. If I did, I would not be keeping it a secret. I’d write a book, sell a ton of copies, and be on Oprah, because mismatched sexual desires of all kinds are a huge issue in a society that claims to prize sexual monogamy.

I myself think the scenario that you and so many other people have presented to me is the perfect argument for polyamory. Max and I have a joke. Occasionally he will mention some type of BDSM or other that has zero appeal to me. And I will smile and say to him, “That’s a (insert other partner’s name here) scene.” Now and then he says it to me – “That’s a Monk scene.” Because, in our opinion, no one person can give you everything you’ll ever want. Thus, we have different people who fulfill our different needs.

So until you see me sitting on the couch next to the Big O, all I can do is wish you luck.

It's new-column week, so without further ado: here's the new column....

Also, a thank you to sex writer Audacia Ray, for giving me and Monk some hot link-lovin' on the Village Voice's Naked City site.

Bye!

Well, I have not had time to play with the Twitter widget for my sidebar, although I need to. Minx, and several other clever people, found it for me and kindly sent me the link, so if you want it too, here it is.

Although… I’m liking displaying more than one update at a time. The little box won’t do that, so that may be an issue.

However, I have something new: I have created a Flickr photo feed. Let me tell you what that’s going to feature: completely random images, all taken with the camera on my Blackberry. Some of them may be sexy, many of them won’t be, and they’ll all be low-res unedited images that I’m just snapping off as I go through my day and emailing straight to the web.

They will not be serious porn because, of course, Flickr won’t let you do that. But as I said, some of them may be sexy or kinky or have some nudity. So if you have strict rules about that where you work, well – I warned you.

So, carefully curated art shots? No. Little snippets of my world? Yes. Enjoy.

I was in a little boutique the other day, flipping through the racks, when the Seattle fire department dropped in for a surprise inspection. Just routine, making sure everything was up to code, which it seemed to be. I remembered Monk telling me they’d come by his shop lately, too. I imagine they do this for every place that’s registered as a business. Seems like a good idea from a fire-safety point of view. But it causes a bit of consternation when your place of business is, say, a massage parlor. (No, firemen don’t bust people, but still, it’s seriously awkward. Definition of a tizzy: what happens when any guy with a badge shows up at a sex business. Trust me on this. )

So that’s the downside to operating out of a commercial space – you need a really good front. And I thought, hey, what if you did a sex work business fronted by a men’s boutique?

That might work, actually. You’d need a space that was designed to have someone live over the shop, as it were. Or that was somehow configured with a not-too-big storefront and another space behind/above/adjoining it.

The shop itself would have to be one of those tiny tucked-away stores that only has about a dozen articles of clothing, very chic and minimalist, and all so artfully arranged that you know they must be terribly, terribly expensive. Very Prada, you know? And the ladies that worked there would also know how to successfully intimidate the random passer-by right out of the store. (Unless he really wanted to buy something, in which case, why not?)

But if you were not just a random passer-by, if you were one of the invited customers who had an appointment with a personal shopper… Well then, you’d be ushered back to the “private fitting suite,” where your style consultant would show you exactly what she thought would suit you best. They’d have to lock the street door, of course – put out the little clock that says, “Back At”.

Naturally you’d do your marketing online, and very carefully. The point here is not to attract off-the-street trade, no no. The point is to have a location where both clients and the various ladies could come and go (pardon the expression), and attract no undue attention. It’s pretty easy for one woman to work out of her home. But in my professional opinion, if there’s more than one person, the level of traffic gets a little too noticeable, and people start wondering just what exactly those girls are doing in there? That’s what one wants to avoid.

The clever thing to do, marketing-wise, would be to get a wholesale lot of some simple (but high-quality) men’s furnishings. Underwear is an obvious choice, but socks or undershirts would work too. Maybe handkerchiefs, although men don’t carry those so much anymore. And gift each client with one upon his departure. To the casual observer, the illusion of conventional business is complete, and plus, your client has a little spiff to remember you by.

But – you would not want to put the name or address of the store on the bag or any (faux) receipts. You don’t want curious third-parties dropping by.

And you’d have to resist the urge to let people use credit cards to pay for their “style consultations”. That’s called money laundering, and it’s a Federal crime. You don’t want to mess with Federal stuff.

This hasn’t been done much, that I know of. I suppose the initial outlay would be not-cheap, although it can’t be much more expensive than equipping a dungeon, or a sensual-touch establishment. Obviously, it would be better if the ladies involved all had a genuine interest in fashion merchandising. They might even build up some real business selling clothes to the guys.

Yes, this is the kind of thing I muse about as I walk around in the world. What can I say? I’m an entreprenatrix at heart.

Letter From a Reader

(Greetings and nice compliments...) I have a question for you about toy care. I recently got my dream paddle. It's a leather paddle (ping-pong paddle shape, but larger) with sharp spikes in a circle pattern with two spikes at the bottom. Because of the amazing spikes its nearly impossible to have a satisfying spank from it without my skin being punctured and blood becoming involved. I really enjoy it, but am concerned when it comes to safety. I know you have spanked people with many different types of objects so I was curious how you clean the toys if blood is involved. Because of the blood should the paddle be a me-only toy (i.e. I can sterilize it)? Should my partner use gloves while using the paddle on me?

Now, I always get uneasy answering questions like this because I'm not a medical person. My answer would have been, "There's no way to truly sterilize a toy like this. So no, don't use it on anyone else." But I decided to consult a couple of fellows I know who are medically-trained kinksters. Here's what they said.

***

Dr. Moreau: I haven't actually done a complete search of the medical literature to ascertain whether any randomized, double-blind, placebo-controlled, multi-center studies or meta-analyses have been done to evaluate the spiked leather paddle as potential vector of infectious disease, but off hand, I'd say, "yes, it's a one-person toy."

I'd say that gloves or not is a matter of the personal boundaries of those involved. Body fluid contact is probably inevitable to some degree for the hand holding the paddle. If gloveless body fluid contact is not part of this relationship, then don't go gloveless.

Dr. Strangelove: I'm sure this isn't a surprise, but the paddle in question can't be truly sterilized, at least not with the equipment your writer has access to. While the metal can be cleaned, a porous leather surface would be considered to be potentially infectious even after being wiped down with alcohol...

Regarding gloves...I would treat this like any other play that might involve fluid contact. If your partner would put a needle in you without gloves, then go ahead and let him/her spank you without gloves. If on the other hand you practice barrier use in all your other play habits, it might be wise to extend them to this toy.

***

So there you go. An opinion, and then a second opinion, can't do better than that.