Coming back to myself

I'm almost weaned off of Topamax, my first attempt at a daily treatment for the migraine part of my combination headache syndrome. If you've read my previous posts, you know it really didn't work. Not only didn't it work, it made me very ill, mentally confused and has caused some transitory tachycardia as I wean off. I'm very much looking forward to being free of this poison. In the mean time I've been taking 3mg of immediate release melatonin between 10 and 11pm every night for a week and I'm feeling a world better. Still some headaches, but still, so much better.

I'm trying to regain my mojo on the cam as I get back to myself. I've lost members for various reasons over the last few months. Dumped for his wife, busted by girlfiend, busted by wife, working crazy hours, simply disappeared... I've made new friends online, some willing to just keep me company, which is always appreciated, some which I hope will be generous in other ways. I tend to shortchange myself if I'm not careful. I have to remember that ultimately, I do need material gain... Besides, that adds some spice. Doesn't it?

That being said, I'm probably not working tonight. For some reason Friday and Saturday nights tend to be awkward anyway, but with my health so iffy I should just relax and gorge on sexy Canadian television.

I've just discovered "Lost Girl" on Netflix and it makes me happy...

How to fix what isn't necessarily wrong?

"So does this pay this bills or is just for fun?"

"How much do you make doing this bb?"

"Do you make the big bucks bb?"

"You must make mega cash with that banging bod mama!" (My personal favorite.)

If you haven't already gathered, those were not so thinly veiled guesses by members at the cam site at how much money I make modeling. I'm pretty honest. "Not much." For instance, last night I made $1.56. Well actually considering I had to turn the house heat on, my space heater on, two lamps on, use the internet, my radio, a computer, the lights in the bathroom while I was getting ready, the energy I used making coffee...

I probably lost money last night.

But at least I made the effort right?

Damn work ethic.

That's the same work ethic that drove me to go into my telemarketing gig Friday night even though I was a mess. Should have known the migraine was going to hit any minute and called out. Instead I went in and ended up running out about an hour and half later and losing most of my weekend to an unrepentant headache. Awesome.

What confuses me though, is these men are so effusive in there appreciation and assurance that I must be a big earner and doing a wonderful job, and then they never take me private.

What the hell?

Mixed messages much?

I've asked my "regulars" on more than one occasion what it is that I am doing "wrong. " No one can put their finger on anything I should do or not do to get more private sessions. It seems to simply be luck of the draw.

So tonight I will paint my finger and toe nails, wear stockings and garter belt and maybe even a corset and a come hither gaze and hope a make a ton of money.

Wish me luck.

Cloudy with a chance of headache

I have desperately wanted to write a blog lately, but have not been able to, for a number of reasons. As I previously mentioned, I have started anti-convulsive medication for my chronic migraines and it has focusing and forming coherent thoughts difficult, sometimes close to impossible. I am doing better, but it is still a struggle and my emotional state is a bit fragile as well. 

My modeling this week was a bust too. I could barely focus, didn't feel sexy, one night I felt completely ill and had to sign off before something horrible happened. I'm hoping that the side effects abate as I get used to the medication and that the end result is worth the adjustment period. I'm still having headaches. Even have had migraines since starting the medication. The goal is to lessen the frequency and severity. 

In the mean time I have made some new friends, had a lot of nice chats. Even been promised a Norman Reedus autograph. And have discussed the appropriate time and place to use the term "slut." 

Only with humor and respect. And permission.

Never derogatorily. Ever. 

I'm hoping that I can get myself together and get online tonight, but I think that is going to require a nap, and a fuck ton of caffeine later. It would be nice if soon I can become my more eloquent and literate self again. I miss me, but I don't want to keep the pain around. I'm not a big fan of pain.

Trying to focus

I actually feel guilty when I don't post a new blog in a reasonable amount of time even though I think only four people ready this. If that.

As I mentioned a few posts back, I've been having serious problems with migraines and other headaches lately. So much so that I lost essentially an entire week of my life last month. So I finally did the adult thing and went to the doctor.

For the first time since my daughter was 6-weeks-old.

I've been diagnosed with combination headaches. Meaning if I don't have a migraine, I have a tension headache. If I don't have a tension headache, I have a migraine. If I don't have either, look up, there are probably pigs flying overhead.

So I left that doctor's appointment with three prescriptions. One is for an anti-convulsive medication, one is for an anti-hystamine that also causes anxiety relief and sedation and some pain relief and one is for something that "resets the brain."

Yay.

I started the anti-convulsive medication two nights ago. I haven't been brave enough to use the other medications even when I had a headache yesterday. Apparently they can knock me out for quite a while so I need to have someone else here in case I pass out. I should not have driven to work yesterday. I was stoned out of my mind. I took last night off of cam modeling to try and get some sleep.

Today I feel like there are butterflies in my brain and I am having an optical migraine.

I want to do thirty things at once (none of them are useful) and everything looks wavy and shiny.

Awesome!

But I do feel a little less stoned and that might be a very good sign.

I'm hoping I have the weight loss side-effect from the medication. That would be fantastic.

Almost 20 years, and counting

In the early fall of 1993 I was at college in the way north of New York State. I had just started really partying and my dorm next door neighbor had brought me to a party full of upper classmen and alcohol. It was awesome.

Then, there was that inevitable moment when I thought, "oh god, where's the bathroom?" I headed down the short hallway to a door guarded by two almost identical uptiight sorority bitches who literally put their arms out and blocked my passage to the bathroom. "You can't go in there! T is in there!"

I looked down at the very clean, very sparkly, very expensive looking high heels they were wearing and said, "unless you want me to puke on your shoes, I'm going in." They backed up fast.

The bathroom was standard college fair, two stalls, two sinks, long mirror, unflattering light. What I didn't know was I was going to meet the most consistently important person in my life in that room.

He was leaning up against the edge of the sink trying to explain to some hapless freshman (I was of course a quite confident freshman, sure...) how to get blood out of his shirt. Taller than me (like the vast majority of humanity, and even some dogs), blonde, gentle eyes, being so kind to this other kid... I spent the rest of the party pretty much in that bathroom with C. And he has been my best friend ever since.

I would not have survived college without C, and he says that was mutual. We shared classes, secrets, drunken confessions, boys, sometimes even clothes. We cast each other in performances and writings, we took day trips and went to the strangest gay bar in the North Country. We both had illegal pet cats in our dorms at one time or another. We made out publicly and often, danced and dreamed, cried and cackled and loved fiercely. We talked about growing old together when we couldn't find partners and wondered how many cats makes you a "crazy cat person." We were inseperable.

Then we graduated.

In a big way the intellectual part of my life stopped when I left college. I had my double major in English Writing and Speech & Theatre and no plans. I was married a bit over a year later and have really focused on surviving in the intervening years. There hasn't been time or money and my passions got worn down by stress and strife and heartache. For years C and I were out of touch while he went on and got his Masters and started teaching and I did whatever job I could to pay the bills; bartender, model, secretary, marketing manager/ad specialties procurement, receptionist, veterinary technician, telemarketer, pet sitter, cam model...

Facebook reconnected us. And it was like there was no pause, no lost time. We picked up where we left off, and for me at least, the love and connection was just as strong, just as vibrant. I cannot see a life worth living without my friend C.

Last night we chatted on facebook for four hours, until 3:00am, about anything and everything. Boys, sex, college, tv, movies, Doctor Who, cat puke, dog puke, boys, sex toys, laundry, boys...

We have been friends, best friends, for almost 20 years. It is worth giving up almost an entire night of sleep to have someone like that in your life.

Some friendly advice

My posts have been fairly grim lately. Lots of heartbreak and anger and not much levity. So I'm going to turn the light back to my "day job" which is actually just my "not quite so stupidly late night job," telemarketing.

No matter how much you think you hate telemarketers, if you are a jerk to us, we hate you more.

Let me say that again.

You may hate telemarketers a lot, like a whole lot, but we hate you more.

You see, think of the numbers involved here. Perhaps you did something stupid online and you are getting a "ton" of telemarketing calls for a day or so. Maybe even as frustratingly often as 10 calls a day or so. You finally snap and call the next poor sap that gets connected to you (we DO NOT DIAL THE PHONE OURSELVES) a "stupid fucking dipshit piece of crap why don't you get a real job?" And slam down the phone or hit "end" or however you terminate calls.

Then you go on with your day.

My terminal is connected to hundreds of calls in a day. Hundreds. Not all connect, but many do. I speak to dozens of people in a four hour period. Maybe 2 or 3, sometimes none, sometimes 5 or 6 people are actually nice to me during the shift and I might get leads. The rest are either completely dismissive, or total assholes.

And then there are the ones who stand out.

"Why the FUCK would I need that? Don't you do your FUCKING HOMEWORK BITCH?"

"Didn't you know you are calling a business to dipshit asshole MOTHERFUCKER?"

"NO! I don't fuckin' need anythin' you fucking piece of shit!"

These are all quotes I have actually heard.

I would like to point out something to those who hate telemarketers and like to treat us in the manner illustrated above.

I know where you live.

Now I am an honorable and reasonable human being and would not retaliate in any way against the poor frustrated souls who treat me with such vitriol and vulgarity. Also I want to keep my job.

But if you just told me that I mistakingly called a business, and then curse me out violently, you better be very very glad you got ME, because I won't Google your phone number to find out what the company is and then Yelp about your fantastic interpersonal skills. If you threaten to come to my house and ruin my dinner with my family, remember that I did not make any direct attempt to call you, it is a computerized system using publicly available information, and while you have no idea from where I am calling, I have your home address in front of me. If you threaten to call the police on me for doing my job, remember they don't like being harassed by drunk jerks who think that somehow their personal lines are sacrosanct. They aren't.

Just remember, next time you take in that deep breath to be a total asshole to a telemarketer, chances are, they know exactly where and who you are. And not everyone is as reasonable and law abiding as I am.

"It is always about Love."

In spite of my recent rejections and associated pain, I had an absolutely a-freakin'-amazing cam night last night.

Trying to salve some of my wounds, I had reached out to a long time member who is always fun, and scheduled a session for later that night. When the time came for us to do what we do, I was not disappointed. He is engaging and appreciative, takes direction well and is easy to please. Everything I needed. Not to mention he likes it when I use my toys, so I am pretty much guaranteed at least one orgasm. This is a very good thing.

After our session, I debated whether or not to continue on and open myself up to seeing other members and possibly being hurt more. Back and forth I wavered, remembering the flung insults from just a few days ago, knowing the pain of losing my friend was fresh right below the surface of the endomorphic rush of orgasm. I did eventually decide to take the chance. The first several minutes were depressing. Several members logging on and off, on and off, silently seeing and leaving, leaving me feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Eventually though, someone stayed.

My new virtual companion was a completely new to me member who was tentative about expressing his particular fetish. Remember though, I am completely understanding. And his need wasn't completely abhorrent to me in the moment, so I decided to give it a shot.

Apparently I did a good job. Five star rating good job.

After that session, members new and old, some I know slightly, some I know quite well, started emerging from the woodwork. There was friendly chatter and very sweet and appreciative comments about my appearance and personality. I relaxed completely. Eventually someone I hadn't seen in a while asked "so how was your day?" I had been asked about how I felt and how my day had been so many times that this final question pushed me over the edge. All night I had been saying "okay" and leaving it at that, but this time, this time I couldn't. Perhaps it was the kindness I had been shown by every single member in the chat room. Perhaps I was simply tired of hiding my pain.

"Well... I am obsessively honest, and truthfully, today sucked."

I actually told these men, some of whom are very new to hanging out with me, that I was hurting because a member to whom I had become close had severed his connection to me.

"If any of you decide to stop seeing me, please do not say, 'I hope you understand.'"

"Eww," one member responded.

Quickly the conversation turned to how what starts as fantasy in this cam world, on rare occasion, turns into intimate connections with the real people behind the handles. That what starts out so radically passionate changes when you remember or realize that there is a "real person" on the other side of the computer. It was truly eye opening and heartening to see these men talk about how special they found me because I was real to them.

Then they started taking me private.

Over and over, sometimes more than one member in the room at a time, giving and taking, asking me to find my own pleasure, giving me time and support and freedom. Eventually I was in a first-time session with a new member and we were partaking in a bit of D/S play. I had controlled him initially and now was relaxing after an orgasm and he said he needed more, to experience more of the sweetness and passion. He wanted to dominate the next part of the session. Asked if I was willing to submit. I said I was, but that I would express it if there was a line I wouldn't cross.

"It is always about Love." he responded.

Yes, it is.

Not necessarily romantic love. I don't meet my members, don't have any designs on them. But in the moment, in the intimacy of a session, I am trusting them with my vulnerability and they are trusting me with their desires. There is Love in that. And when it is reciprocal and respectful and acknowledged, the sessions are outstanding.

Not everyone Loves themselves and their own humanity enough to give it, and they feel hollow to me. As I am sure they do to themselves.

This is a lesson way beyond the cam and the bedroom and intimate relationships. "Love" makes us better people. More honest, more gentle, more giving, more willing to receive. More open.

Love shared is multiplied. Give a lot of it. You'll get even more back.