herpes, butt plugs, and my mom

My mom drove with me from Ohio to North Carolina. I spent most of the drive curled up with cramps and/or asleep in the back seat.

On one rare occasion I was awake and sitting in the passenger seat. We drove through a capital city (I forget which one, sorry). The capital building was being renovated or re-gilded. Consequently, it was covered in a big white sock.

“That looks like a condom” my mom giggled.

I examined the three tiers of girth. “Actually, I think it looks more like a butt plug.”

“Eww!” she squirmed.

I apologized, explaining that our boundaries are currently so malleable I’m not always sure what is over the line. Then I dropped it. We drove in silence (minus an awesome mix cd) for five minutes.

“You know, those things can give you hemorrhoids.”

I looked at my mom. “Actually, not if you use them correctly, with plenty of lube and proper hygiene.” I then went on to mini-lecture her on the joys of anal play and the importance of lube and listening to your body. “Sex is not supposed to hurt. If it hurts, your body is telling you to stop. Or at least slow down.”

“And how do you know all this?”

I deflected to my great deal of academic research, citing Anal Health and Pleasure by Jack Morin and The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women by Tristan Taormino.

“Sure. Research…”

Sometimes I love my mom. Later she referred to her herpes acting up that week. I looked surprised, as she had never openly discussed herpes with me. Apparently, she’s had some major sores inside her cheeks lately. Understandable, considering her even higher than normal stress level. It was great that she referred to her herpes by name. Not cold sores. Not cancor/cankor sores. Herpes.

Rock on mom.

a brand new me

i updated my bio to reflect my pseudo-retired sex worker status. i haven't tricked since november (maybe earlier). i won't have time before i leave the city. i don't know if i'll try foot work or sex coaching in texas. i still refer to myself as a whore in my mind and with friends, but it's no longer the most accurate title. so i'll move to texas and write about my glamorous exploits as a sex worker in new york city. exotic. erotic. that's me.

ps, my birthday is june 14th, so i'm still 22 for two more weeks. anything i should try and squeeze in before i hit official adulthood?

snippets from the road

Yesterday morning after leaving the hotel, I was in gentle traffic. There was a red minivan with a flag ribbon and flag detail. Three kids were stretched across the back seat. The two boys(?) on the right started fighting. Fists and punches were flying in silhouette through the tinted rear window. Then mom whirls around from the passenger seat. She whacks the kids repeatedly with a yard stick. Dad’s hand raises from the wheel as if mediating. I am too shocked to write down the license plate, not sure what I would do with it. So I pass.

I found an amazing pottery shop off of highway 74. Mud dabbers has a whole family of potters working out of the shop so the varieties of style astound. I bought two dishes, one that now hangs on my bedroom wall for my keys and change. Check out www.muddabbers.com.

Later, Blondie is singing in French and the red Honda passport in from of me won’t get off the damn cell phone or out of the passing lane.

I saw at least fifty dead deer this trip. Mostly in Pennsylvania, but jersey had it’s share.

As I begin my second hour sitting in traffic just south of Allentown, I begin to wish I had stopped at the adult store for a cheap vibe. I do pc exercises to pass the time.

Pass a billboard with a picture of a baby. States: “Considering abortion? God cares. We care. Free Ultrasound.” This reeks of crisis pregnancy centers that provide pregnancy tests and other medical services (like ultrasound) without the appropriate medical supervision. This is after I was stuck behind a covenant truck for twenty minutes, staring at it’s “it’s not a choice, it’s a child” bumper sticker which is uniform for the fleet.

By the time I get to New Jersey I’m exhausted. I start craving someone would put the hooks behind my wrist and ankle tendons and drag me the rest of the way home. I pull in to a rest stop, but there are no “facilities”. We already learned the dangers of NJ scenic overlooks (not visible from the road, isolated, and populated by busloads of convicts). And the gas stations are full service so no bathrooms there. I am no longer sleepy as I am too focused on holding my bladder.

But I survived!

dear miss bowman

i am entirely too tired to create a new blog right now, so instead i will transcribe a letter i wrote today to my high school friend, miss bowman.

dear miss bowman,
i'm on the tail end of my second 2,000+ mile road trip this month. the first time i drove from nyc to akron to milwaukee (and back!) for my grandfather's birthday. this time i drove nyc to akron to bryson city, nc to nyc for memorial day weekend with my family. it was also supposed to be a chance for me to heal from getting my iud last wednesday (finally); however, i ended up either pushing myself too hard or passed out so i don't know how recuperative it's been. the cramps have calmed down and i'm on my period and i won't be having any babies for the next seven years.

so i'm headed back to new ork to finish up my health insurance with a trip to the therapist and physical therapy, get a fancy expensive hair cut super cheap, and graduate (congratulations to you, too, miss bowman). i'm having a party this weekend (yo, new york peeps, email me for your invite/evite). i'm excited and nervous because (hopefully) everyone i've cared about over the last five years will be there, as well as my family. it will be an interesting collision of school, work, family, and sex. i just hope everyone keeps their mouths shut as needed.

i'm at a diner in pennsylvania. if traffic was moving i'd be two hours from new york. unfortunately, it's not. after sitting in the same spot long enough i was tempted to test out my maxi pad's absorbancy as compared to adult urinary incontinence products. fortunately, i was able to inch to an exit and scoot off. i had a crab cake sandwich that smushed off the bread and my water tasted like soap so i ordered a root beer but the onion rings are good and it's giving me a chance to write.

i've been thinking of you since bowman's crossing, virginia. i've even propped my notebook against the wheel to jot down thoughts i wanted to tell you. for example, there are no "adult" stores in north carolina or virginia. i wanted to grab a cheap vibe last night (first night without family in almost a week) but there wasn't even a bookstore or novelty shop off the highway. today i finally saw one as i entered into pennsylvania (after west virginia and maryland). but some extremists had posted a billboard at the exit with a picture of a father, mother, baby, and child. the caption read: "what do you risk using pornography? everything." i fumed and cussed and drove with pride and my "i watch smut and i vote" proudly on display. bumper stickers have really gone down the tubes since we were younger. now all you see are christians or patriots (ribbons and flags make me gag). occasionally there's an initialed white oval like the old dave matthews stickers from high school. i remember when they came out thinking the "DMB" meant "i'm so dumb i forgot the u."

anyways, i've got to get back on the road to head to nyc for the party and graduation then houston on next thursday for apartment hunting then back for camping and whale watching for my birthday. busy, busy. thank god for caffeine and ginseng. i miss you, darling.
jane

and i miss you darling readers as well. there will be generous posting this week, i promise.

shove it in me

a mirena iud is now happily nestled in my uterus, with two little brown strings poking out of my cervix's os like a forked tongue (devil cervix, ha ha!).

i have had to fight for three years to get this iud. been through four obgyns, numerous professional consultations, hours of research, and two doses of emergency contraception.

during the insertion i experienced vasovagal syncope. when a certain part of my cervical nerves were stimulated i had hot flashes, became nauseaus and almost passed out. this is not uncommon and my obgyn and nurse (who have provided many iuds) knew exactly what was happening and took care of it professionally and efficiently. as soon as i started sweating (and the color apparently began draining from my lips) they asked if i was still with them. i said i was having hot flashes. "are you dizzy?" "a little" the nurse started fanning my face with my file (flapping like a gimp bird with adhd). the obgyn finished the insertion in under a minute (the whole thing took five) and got me a cup of water and wet towels for my wrists and neck and forehead. she also dragged over the trash bin because i was nauseas. i heaved some kix cereal and orange juice. they made me lie down for ten minutes, coming in every two to check on me. i was not allowed to try and stand without one of them in the room. by the end of the ten minutes, i was feeling better. i paid the receptionist and left the office with my mom.

unfortunately, i couldn't immediately get a seat on the train home and started getting dizzy again, but someone near finally got off at montrose and my mom snagged the seat, threatening to clobber anyone that got in the way of her baby.

when i got home i took an aleve to help with the cramps (i've had worse period cramps, but they were not pleasant) and took a nap. i also put on a pad because i was having some light spotting, which my obgyn had warned could be daily for up to six months.

when i woke up that evening the cramping was over. by this morning i'm no longer spotting. everything is good in my uterus and there will be no babies for seven years. hurrah.

snot stew and hippy shit

remember those kids' books snot stew? about the little cats who hear the kids fighting and get really excited about stew. the exchange went something like:

is not!
is too!
snot!
stew!

i was reading those books at the same time as bunnicula (the celery stalks at midnight) and hank the cowdog.

cleaning out the fridge in prep for the upcoming road trip, i decided to make a stew. figured it will be nice to have tomorrow when my uterus is achey from the new iud (happy dance). so i used up the mushrooms, garlic, onions, potatos, and the chicken i had thawed for chicken and dumplings (before rachel and i became distracted). after saute-ing (excuse my spelling attempts) the onions, mushrooms, and garlic with a little bacon (from the cubic inches i have frozen, necessary for any southern meal) i stirred in the chicken in chunks. they sat together as i peeled and chunked the potatos, throwing them in the big pot as i went along. added water to the top of the potatos, with some sea salt, fresh pepper, two bay leaves, and my new "spanish sunshine" blend (which is lemon pepper without the salt). after the potatos and nice and biteable, i'll stir in a little milk and flour to thicken as necessary. it could be amazing. it could be disgusting. we'll find out.

also, i'm going on a vitamin kick. i had tried a women's multivitamin and big-ass vitamin b pills (recommended by my psychiatrist) that stunk and made me nauseaus. but about a month ago i found some vitamin b tablets (about the size of an ibuprofen) at conway (bargain store for those outside nyc). i also picked up some echinacea with goldenseal as i was recovering from the epstein barr debacle (side note, a new joint called Epstein's Bar has opened on the lower east side. hilarious). i feel the difference. so yesterday i picked up a new batch and grabbed some cranberry extract for uti prevention and ginseng for roadtrips (i think it might be a gentler alternative to the caffeine ridalin combo i used on the last 2100 mile journey).

lesson of the day: eat well and be healthy.

fame

you like me! you really like me!

More specifically, chris hampton and russ kick like me.

First, i am appearing in the june wysiwig talent show. Go here http://www.wysiwygtalentshow.org/ and book your tickets for i love a parade! even gayer tales of extremely gay gayness.
Tuesday, June 21, at 7:30 p.m. at P.S. 122150 1st Ave. at East 9th St.
Tickets are $7 — call the P.S. 122 box office at 212-477-5288

I have been told the pride show (this one, kids) sells out quickly, so if you want a fix of jane (and some other sexy super famous bloggers) plan ahead.

Now, for those of you out of state, no worries, just a little wait. Russ Kick's Everything You Know About Sex Is Wrong arrives in October (http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/1932857176/ref=ase_rachelkramerbuss/104-2824991-4679103?v=glance&s=books). It will include my new essay "A Baby Dyke Learns to Score" about my bumbling misadventures en route to bi-dyke prowess. It includes sex (and sex attempts) with seven women (and solo adventures) including threesomes, double dildos, and the lusty lady herself, rachel kramer bussel. They're paying me not to publish it here, so you're going to have to buy the book. Rachel and Dacia are also in the book so I'm in good company.

I'm floating (and tingling thanks to the wet spots show, which i will report on later). I need to try and sleep so I can do laundry before my mom flies in tomorrow. We're seeing Avenue Q tuesday night and getting an iud shoved up in my uterus on wednesday. then driving to ohio on thursday and north carolina on friday. By the time I return, Norm will need another oil change. Not to mention the new wiper blades that will be necessary to survive the down pours characteristic of my road trips. So i sleep.

i do not quote song lyrics

and i am not about to start.

however, i just learned to burn cds on my computer (i'm a dork and had burned on other computers, just not my own). so my infamous mix tapes are now moving in to a new realm. i present you, the play lists of jane's first three cds.

jane's super cool 80's mix
*great for the road and whatever ails ya
1. i wanna be sedated - the ramones (technically 1978, but just as my post stonewall gay lesbian and transgender literature class began with a pre-stonewall piece, i feel this song provides an appropriate intro and context to the rest of the mix. plus, i like it.)
2. bad reputation - joan jett
3. dancing with myself - billy idol (thank you stripper jointz rocks for permanently cementing this song in my head)
4. heart of glass - blondie
5. i touch myself - divinyls (masturbation rocks!)
6. sweet dreams - eurythmics (annie lenox androgyny... drool...)
7. never say never (i might like you better if we slept together) - romeo void
8. personal jesus - johnny cash (i don't have the original and his version rocks my world)
9. i wanna be your dog - iggy pop (this song drops my panties to the floor)
10. tainted love - soft cell
11. video killed the radio star - the buggles
12. girls just want to have fun (cyndi lauper)
13. like a virgin - madonna
14. centerfold - j geils band
15. jessie's girl - rick springfield (she's loving him with that body, i just know it)
16. lust for life - iggy pop
17. manic monday - the bangles
18. tempted - squeeze
19. summer of 69 - brian adams

women make me cry
*mellow. not to be put on repeat during road trips.
1. save me - aimee mann
2. not an addict - kay's choice
3. lullaby for cain - sinead o'conner
4. siren - tori amos
5. don't let it bring you down - annie lenox
6. creep - pretenders
7. besame mucho - cesaria evora (if you have not heard cesaria evora, you are a sub-par lover)
8. blue angel - squirrel nut zippers
9. maybe this time - cabaret
10. my man - peggy lee
11. love has no pride - bonnie raitt
12. momentum - aimee mann
13. angel of the morning - pretenders
14. snakeface - throwing muses
15. guilty - bonnie raitt
16. the blues - eartha kitt
17. it ain't you - squirrel nut zippers
18. mortal city - dar williams
19. my back pages - joan osborne (with jackson browne)
20. am i blue - bette midler
no making fun of my tastes in musicals or bette midler. i hang out at piano bars and i'm proud of it.

finally, the piece de resistance:
jane's junior high mix (with a hint of freshman year)
*not every song came out when i was in junior high but they were all on my mix tapes, radio, mtv, etc.
1. volcano girls - veruca salt (this became my favorite when i found out we were moving again)
2. mother mother - tracey bonham (dancing and screaming in the basement)
3. i'm the only one - melissa etheridge
4. undone (the sweater song) - weezer
5. cryin' - aerosmith (alicia silverstone was super hot)
6. wave of mutilation (slow version) - pixies (i used to cut to this. it was one of the first songs on my cutting mix. yes, i had a cutting mix. i don't think i'll be burning that one anytime soon.)
7. closer - nin (i bought the single on tape to piss off my mother. i also bought mariah carey's fantasy at the same time.)
8. creep - radiohead (i saw them open for alanis morisette in 8th grade. this was one of two songs i knew, the other being fake plastic trees off of the clueless soundtrack.)
9. nosering girl - nerfherder (my boyfriend who worked at the bowling alley put this on a mix for me)
10. girl like you - edwin collins (one summer the only movies we watched, over and over, were empire records, it, and rocky horror picture show)
11. under the bridge - pj harvey
12. why can't i fall in love - ivan neville (from the pump up the volume soundtrack. i loved that movie)
13. everybody knows - concrete blonde (also from pump up the volume. in highschool i would discover leonard cohen and in college i would tattoo bastardized cohen verse on my wrists)
14. everybody hurts - rem (remember the video with the traffic jam and the subtitles?)
15. i will survive - cake (making out in the back of a church van on the way to cedar point)
16. buddy holly - weezer (singing on the edge of the cafeteria stage, swinging our legs, skipping homeroom for my investigative report into the sexual discrimination of the locker rooms for the school paper)
17. hell - squirrel nut zippers (coolest. band. ever.)

i'm a huge dork. thanks for humoring me.

coming soon: the make out mix, the new york city mix, and the angry sex mix.

dirty dishes and naked ladies

i have had a lovely weekend.

after running around between therapy, psychiatry (my final appointment), and physical therapy, i took a nap on dacia's couch. after waking at 5:30, realized it would be hell to drive home during rush hour, so we ordered sushi to kill time. dacia then came over to my house to help clean my room for the lovely lady that would be spending the night.

on the ride over we had a classic exchange:

jane: i want a car the color of that van.
dacia: sea foam green?
jane: no, more of a turquoise. that would rock.
dacia: i had a friend with a periwinkle car. he wasn't gay. now he's married with a kid and a dog.
jane: loser. not that there's anything wrong with that.
dacia: of course.
jane: omigod, that was so illegal! that van just crossed the double white lines. not even a single solid line, but a double.
dacia: because we have so much respect for the sanctity of the law.
jane: except for the whoring.

and then we laughed until we cried. because we are awesome. if only to each other.

dacia made my bed with clean sheets while i cleaned my room. then we went to ellen's 30th birthday party (she's old but she's awesome). there was a great deal of food and many more people. i planted myself on the couch and was joined by friends and acquaintances.

dacia and i held our breath when rachel entered the room. look at those stockings. look at those shoes. look at those boobs. she looked edible.

as the night wore on my eye began to twitch. then water. then the other. and i began to sneeze. i waited in line for the bathroom (which i am convinced was actually a locked closet) until it became apparent i needed to leave. dacia and rachel were kind enough to follow me out although i had offered to come back around in an hour to drive them home. we sat in traffic on the bqe and dashed through the cold to dacia's apartment. after a chat and trip to the loo, rachel and i took the scenic route back to my place.

we dove under the covers and kept each other warm through the chilly night. with a slow awakening, and debated breakfast offers (i though she asked for "e" when requesting "eggs"), we got down to the business my hand - specifically, my dishes. in a lovely purple bra and matching panties and black strappy heels, rachel washed my dishes with gusto. the girl lovingly soaped and rinsed every plate, bowl, and cup. i stared at the beautiful woman in my kitchen as i dried, occasionally brushing the hair from her face.

we decided to forgo the chicken and dumplings in favor of naked tumbling in my bed. sadly, friday's physical therapy left me in a state of old lady. the aching of my thighs (compared to the throbbing of my loins) limited my mobility significantly. i could either lie on my back or my stomach. we managed regardless. use your imaginations. we had to. although i have to say i love a girl who knows when to ask for the lube.

after a nap i drove her home, finished my essay (which i hope they enjoy), and wrote my bio for wysiwig (june 21st, 7pm, PS 122, tickets available at http://www.wysiwygtalentshow.org). then headed off to the new york burlesque festival http://www.thenewyorkburlesquefestival.com/. i have been trying to go to the burlesque festival for three years. last year i was at a conference and the year before i was underage (by less than a month), but this year, after a wait in the rain, they finally let me in. there were some great routines, some poor prop choices, and an amazing band. I am in love with little brooklyn, have a crush on "coco de la creme" (at least i thought that was her name), and want to lick the ass of both of the wet spots.

i may have a chance with that last one monday night at otto's shrunken head, where they will be singing hilarious sex positive songs like "i'd really like to come" and "do you take it in the ass?" come out and play.

conscious effort

i am making a conscious effort to leave the house.

because all i want to do is stay home and watch movies and masturbate and sleep twisted in my uncovered comforter and single top sheet that was not dropped off at the laundry last saturday with all of the other linens in the house (minus one towel). the dishes (which will be taken care of by a sexy sexy lady tomorrow) and my essay (which should be finished before this evening) taunt me.

so i went to the wysiwyg reading http://www.wysiwygtalentshow.org/ on tuesday (where i will be reading in june. come see jane live! oooohhh....) and ran in to the fabulous rachel who will be doing my dishes, hopefully scantily clad (rachel, not the dishes, although they should be scantily clad by the end of it all). we had a hot dog and tator tots at crif dogs after the show. she's trying to score me a black graduation cap. if any of you have a cap that you can lend me for my june 7th graduation, i will love you forever (different from "me love you long time").

wednesday i went to dinner at velseka with friend/neighbor who needs a gd pseudonym. while we were waiting for her friends to arrive (so we could order soup and yummy yummy bread, which we were later swiping from tables as they left the restaurant) a russian guy named tim pulled over a chair and sat down. tim, along with the rest of his table of 15 or so chums, was very drunk. their team had just won a big soccer/futbol game. they were passing around shots of vodka in the water glasses, singing songs and chanting chants, and saluting the flag hung from a railing by salt and pepper shakers. tim tried to pick my friend and me up by telling us of his planned world travels, forcefully blowing in my ear, licking friend's ear (twice!), and finally passing out at our table leaving a puddle of drool between his knees. charming. we let him sleep (he wasn't bothering us asleep) until one of his friends came over to retrieve him.

after neighbor's friends arrived we ate and headed to lolita lounge for the tranny roadshow, which was hot and crowded and good. in a few years, this show could rival the sex workers art shows. a very promising beginning. there was a great performance piece where one transman (i don't know the gender term he preferred, except he) injected himself with testosterone talking about his experiences while another read from the prescription warning label. i am now in love with citizen rahne http://www.trannyroadshow.org/CitizenRahne.html. she needs to make out with me.

yesterday, i brought my essay to jone's beach with my dear friend who has just returned from india. he is madly in love with a girl from bombay, but they are concerned about her traditional family and his orthodox jewish fam. we talked and lay on a blanket between the dunes, eating carrots and hummus. until disaster struck. he was trying to help me pop off the bottom of my sunscreen/chapstick contraption (the screwy mechanism is broken) and sliced his second knuckle to the quick. so we got to spend almost three hours in an emergency room on long island (ironically the same hospital where he was born). i read him all of song lee in room 2b (a sequel to the horrible harry books). he had four stitches and bought me onion rings. nice boy.

then i hauled cheeseburgers and caffeine over to dacia's where we stared at our computer screens and eventually passed out watching batman (side note: why is the new batman not aronofsky's? doesn't "batman beginnings" have an intuitive resemblance to "batman year one"? mike, please step up here).

i'm working on that adjusting to a low-stress life style thing (although i feel pretty freakin' stressed right now). i'll keep you posted.

hot and sweaty (complete)

let's take a moment to appreciate the glorious combination of exercise, gay porn, and sex toys.

now that the glow has passes, i will elaborate.

at the advice of my physical therapist i bought a used exercise bike off of craigslist. although it lived in the trunk of mr car for a few days, i finally set it up in a clear spot on my bedroom floor.

i put on caesar's hard hat gang bang (thank you paco) for motivational purposes. this film has some of the best rimming i have ever seen. amazing.

after ten minutes or so, i had a little inspiration. i paused the bike and dug in my toy box for a dildo with a base. i found my curvy black silicone cock (very similar to these http://www.babeland.com/page/TIB/PROD/dildos-silicone-non-realistic/LN348145), slicked it up with a little lube, and inserted it, held in place by my panties and exercise shorts. i climbed back on and enjoyed the ride.

for about five minutes. then i wanted a little something extra. so i grabbed a bullet vibe (a purple version of this http://www.babeland.com/page/TIB/PROD/vibrators-battery-operated/DL010240) and tucked it in against my clit.

lovely.

until the base of the cock worked against the angle of the seat. this is when i switched to the rock chick (http://www.babeland.com/page/TIB/PROD/dildos-silicone-non-realistic/LN337288).

finally, everything was working. as the construction workers were pounding away, i was riding and grinding. i held out for about ten minutes, with occasional one-footed peddling and standing riding. finally, i had a body shaking orgasm.

i found this technique to be very motivating. and effective, i burned almost 800 calories according to the bike, which probably did not take into account the 'other exercise' i was engaged in. i think i'll find time to exercise daily.

happy national sea monkey day!

you heard me. May 16th is national sea monkey day.

additionally, nylon stockings were first sold on May 15, 1940, birthing a new fetish that has since brought fun (and profit) to many i hold dear.

aw yeah.

dirty dishes

the past few weeks my life has been a mess. my home currently reflects that, hyperbolically. my first night after "retiring" i was up until 7am sorting and shifting and moving furniture and throwing away clothes only to have the place reach the stage where it is worse than originally but on the road to getting better. add the stress of my roommate just moving out, my mother visiting in a week, and a huge gathering of family and friends of the last five years of my life the first weekend in june.

so i'm breaking it down in to bite size pieces. i dropped off the linens at the laundry mat. i moved the smaller sofa in to the living room and arranged for my neighbor to claim the large couch. i traded milk crates and book shelves so my extensive film collection has room to breath.

but the thing that provokes anxiety and the urge to cry is the mountain of dirty dishes. all have been soaked if not rinsed at one point or another. but my sink is slow to drain. and the dishrack is too small. and i have a million excuses. but i am finally tackling the problem.

i wrote an email to the lovely lusty lady (side note: the first time i saw ms. rkb, she was reading dish washing erotica at remote lounge).

a proposition
i would like to pay you $50 to wash my dishes. i'll pay $100 if you want to do it in your undies and cute shoes. think of it as column-fodder, plus we would get to hang out. are you up for it?

i was excited about engaging in sex work as a client. after all, if i am not a john, would i be a jane?

when she did not respond in the same evening, as she is prone to do, i began to worry that i had offended her. worries were laid aside upon the reception of her eager email this afternoon.

hi miss hotness! I will wash your dishes for free silly...I really do like it, plus they're your dishes. And I'd love to see you. How about...will you make chicken and dumplings and let me have my way with you? That's worth much more than $100. I will wear cute undies indeed, maybe even buy new ones, and I have new shoes I would love to show you.

i did a happy dance around ms. dacia's apartment. perhaps this date will give new meaning to the phrase dirty dishes.

the prostitution of Mrs. Hager

An article posted in The Nation yesterday describes in (juicy) detail the hypocrisy o f the evangelical Dr. Hager, the man who claims responsibility for stalling the FDA’s approval of over-the-counter emergency contraception pills, Plan B (the good ones, not the pukey Preven ones which some may remember from earlier subway incidents and are no longer being actively marketed). The man reputed as one of the foremost authorities on Christian women’s healthcare repeatedly sodomized his wife without consent and paid her $2000 for oral sex. The man is a rapist. And his now-Ex wife is speaking out against his hypocrisy.

As disturbing as they are on their own, Linda Davis's allegations take on even more gravity in light of Hager's public role as a custodian of women's health. Some may argue that this is just a personal matter between a man and his former wife--a simple case of "he said, she said" with no public implications. That might be so--if there were no allegations of criminal conduct, if the alleged conduct did not bear any relevance to the public responsibilities of the person in question, and if the allegations themselves were not credible and independently corroborated. But given that this case fails all of those tests, the public has a right to call on Dr. David Hager to answer Linda Davis's charges before he is entrusted with another term. After all, few women would knowingly choose a sexual abuser as their gynecologist, and fewer still would likely be comfortable with the idea of letting one serve as a federal adviser on women's health issues.

Read the full article here: http://www.thenation.com/doc.mhtml?i=20050530&c=1&s=mcgarvey

Even today, marital sexual assault is a notoriously difficult crime to prosecute. Women like Davis often have strong financial incentives to stay with their spouses; those who speak out frequently face an uphill battle to convince people that their husbands, who may be well liked and respected, are capable of something this ugly at home. Also, because marriages play out over many years, some sex is consensual, while other sex is not--a fact that may complicate matters for a jury in a criminal proceeding.

This is the horrible truth behind many people’s reluctance to report any kind of acquaintance rape. I just saw this awesome t-shit over on bodyasbillboard.com that reads “does date rape mean I also get dinner?” with little pink hearts. The shirt has the explanation that “DATE RAPE does not exist. RAPE exists. Men who are found guilty of “DATE RAPE” get lighter sentences & less jail time. Meanwhile over 90% of women [ed. note: who are raped] are RAPED BY someone they know.” Watching Nadia (of kinkylibrarian.blogspot.com) struggle with her assault at a sex party caused me to remember after my own rape thinking, “well, it wasn’t really rape because I would have had sex with him earlier in the evening if he would have worn a condom.” Consent must be negotiated for each sexual act. This negotiation can be verbal or physical or occasionally “understood” (in a relationship with an exceptional level of trust). More importantly, consent can be revoked at any time. If at any point in a sex act any partner expresses a desire to stop, that desire should be respected.

In conclusion, fuck Hager up the ass without lube or consent.

Thank you.

multiple choice

i am...
a) free of my office job
b) less than sober
c) the proud owner of the pop-up kama sutra
d) all of the above
e) other __________________________

raspberry pie at 70mph

yesterday i drove from new york to ohio. alone. today i drive from akron to milwaukee. maybe with occasional sister company. tomorrow i drive from wisconsin to ohio. alone. sunday i drive from ohio to new york. alone.

what have i learned in all this alone time? i would rather sing loud then sing well. i have a very immature sense of humor (scotrun... beaver valler... 150 reasons to shop... hee hee). and i can eat raspberry pie at 70mph with a fork. oh yeah, bitches. i got mad skills.

the reason from the tripping? grandfather's 75th birthday and mother's day (for mom and grandma).

the other night i discovered the cds for $2.99 or less page on half.com. i stocked up with all the albums i wanted in junior high but couldn't get because i was always grounded and my allowance was permanently suspended (weezer, green day, presidents of the united states of america, veruca salt, hole). but they haven't arrived yet. so i made the drive yesterday with the double disk set from amores perros. i got really good at translating one or two lines per song and singing those at the top of my lungs. while dancing behind the wheel, of course.

originally i was supposed to be driving with the fam today, asleep in the back of their car. but i have to make it back to the office for my last week. so i'm doing it solo. mom and i stopped at best buy for walkie talkies. i need a cb name, that's family safe, please. i grabbed some cds for the extra 16-18 hours. paid full price but got iggy pop, the pixies, and 80s mix, and a strip club mix (oh yes, they sell these at best buy).

norm (my car. she's a girl. a girl named norm. like the boy named sue. only cooler) and i will be back in new york sunday night, wired on caffeine with a stiff knee and swollen vocal cords. and maybe even a naughty truck stop story.

behave yourselves while i'm away. *wink*

getting off work

As my days in the office draw to a close (only five more), I reflect back on my first “real adult” job. I started working for this sexual and reproductive health organization at the age of 19. Three years later, I’m still the youngest in the office. At 19, I suddenly had a regular pay check (direct deposit, no less), health insurance, dental, vision, life insurance, and a 401K. I even got business cards!

Looking back, I realize, that something is still lacking. I have never gotten off at this job!

At almost every other job I’ve held, I found a way to fool around. Walk-in freezers at the IHOP and on top of the bar after closing at the pool hall have had their share of my attention. But my favorite was a session of naughty instant messages turned to phone sex late at night in the museum office where I interned (and met Dacia).

To provide some context, I was living with two other girls in a 1.5 bedroom apartment in bushwick and had just been robbed. I was pulling 18 credits at NYU, 15 hours of free internship and 10 hours of $10/hr administration at the museum, and 20 hours at a diner on the lower east side (and maintaining a 4.0 gpa, thank you very much). I had also stumbled in to a hugely complicated mess of a relationship with the gay identical twin brother of my best friend and roommate’s boyfriend (I’ll let you guys sort that out for a minute). What had started as a one night stand, lead to two nights, my first orgasm during partnered sex, toys in babeland for his first toy (I had just purchased my first vibrator two weeks before meeting him), my first strap-on, midnight bus rides mid-panic attack, sobbing phone calls, horrible fights, and passive-aggressive codependency all around. Plus he had identified as gay for almost five years and I was identifying as “I sleep with men but I only fall in love with women” so our identities were out of whack. The relationship was a mess but the sex was some of the best I have ever had (36 hour closed door marathons with breaks only to pee and eat and doze). Oh yeah, and he lived in DC while I lived in NYC.

So, one thursday evening I was in the office working or doing homework (my computer had been stolen in the robbery). The boy came online. I was talking about my day sorting porn for the museum and discussing public sex in my sexual identity and social space class at nyu.

he asked if I ever got turned on in the office. before I worked at the museum I had very little exposure to porn, so occasionally I found things that would interest me or at least make me cock my head to the side and go “huh”. then he asked if I ever had sex in the office. “no. but I’d like to. the roof access is wonderful.”

my office phone rang. “Hello, Jane Vincent. Thank you for calling the museum. How may I help you?”

“It’s almost midnight. Who would be calling you except me?”

“I don’t know. It’s important to keep up appearances.”

“Speaking of appearances, what are you wearing?” This line, originally a joke of our long distance phone calls, had become the initiation equivalent to an aural kiss. I described my skirt and heels and thigh highs and button down shirt and pig tails (always braided pig tails back then).

“I want you to take off your panties.” I giggled as I slid them down over my thigh highs (lesson I learned from porn, always put your garters on under your underwear for easy removal in circumstances such as peeing and sex).

“Does your chair lean back?”

“A little, but I’m less than a foot from the wall.” I tested this as I rocked back against the chair so that it hit the familiar scuff mark in the sheet rock.

“I want you to lean back as far as possible and prop your heals on the edge of your desk.” My calves arched with the angle.

“Now spread your legs.” I complied, careful to maintain my balance.

“If someone were to look in the window, could they see your pussy?”

“Uh huh,” I gasped.

“I don’t know. Maybe you should spread it open wider for them.” With my right hand I parted my labia.

“Are you wet?” Soaking. “I want you to taste yourself.” I dipped in two fingers and slurped them off by the receiver. He moaned.

“While holding your pussy open, I want you to play with your clit.” This was difficult as it required propping the phone between my chin and shoulder and maintaining an upright position in a tilted chair supported between the wall and my quivering heels.

“May I finger myself?” I asked.

“Yes, but only with one.” I choose the middle finger as it was the longest and reached in and forward, rubbing against my newly discovered g-spot.

“How does that feel?” Um, good? It’s much easier to fake dirty talk when you’re not actually excited.

“May I please have another finger?”

“First I want you to tell me what you would do if I were then.” I told him about swallowing his cock into the back of my throat, running my tongue along the seam up to the head, sliding it out of my mouth to suck on his balls, probing his ass with a wet finger. I took the liberty of sneaking two extra fingers into myself.

I started gasping. “Is someone cheating?” I couldn’t breath. “Little girl, are you playing with yourself?” I gasped as I slid a forth finger inside. The chair started to rock unsteadily so I climbed down to my knees on the floor. I rode my palm. His breathing became labored.

“How deep are you in?” My knuckles ground against the back of my vaginal wall. My thumb toyed with my urethra as my left hand furiously rubbed my clit, occasionally catching the sliding phone.

I cried out as I gushed over my hand and on to the office carpet. He gasped, groaned, and fell silent.

I started giggling. “I have to go get some paper towels from the bathroom now.”

“Sweet dreams.”

For the next week, he would begin his im’s to me with “Does it smell like sex in here?” Cheeky boy.

Although I haven’t had any sex in this office, it is the most comfortable and open environment I have ever worked in, including the museum. I’ve heard stories of my boss’ locker room blow jobs and my co-worker’s girlfriend’s UTIs brought on by vacation sex. I even placed the majority of my original ads from my computer here. Cleaning out my email box and cubicle, I’m beginning to realize how much I will miss this place.

a second holiday

here's the list for may 3rd and 4th

May 3
National Teacher Day

May 3
World Press Freedom Day

May 3, 1898
Birthday of Golda Meir
Prime minister of Israel, 1969–1974

May 3, 1933
Birthday of James Brown
Godfather of Soul

May 3, 1984
jane gains a taste for competition when her younger sister is born

May 4, 1970
“Four dead in Ohio”
Four Kent State students killed by National Guardsmen during a protest of the Vietnam War

May 4
Childhood Depression Awareness Day

May 4, 1979
First Woman British Prime Minister
Margaret Thatcher appointed first female British Prime Minister

May 4, 1961
Freedom Rides
A group of civil rights activists ride buses from Washington, DC to New Orleans to expose the unconstitutional segregation practices still in effect

May 4
National Anxiety Disorders Screening Day

I would like to draw special attention to childhood depression day. After going through a phase of continual apologies and letting everyone "cut" in line so that recess would end before I had a turn on the swing, or at tetherball, or four square, i tried to kill myself at the age of nine. I attempted to smother myself between my mattress and the boxspring. I feel asleep, woke up two hours later, and my family hadn't even noticed i was gone. By the time I was fourteen, i had swallowed numerous bottles of pills, cut my wrists with nail clippers, safety razors, and kitchen knives, jumped off my roof, jumped out my window, and lay down in the middle of a dark street. My parents never noticed. More specifically they never noticed I was depressed. They assumed I was on drugs. This assumption was not helped by my mood swings and "spells" that I can now identify as panic attacks (see national anxiety disorders screening day above as well). Just because a young person has "no reason" to be depressed does not mean that they're not fucked up. And if they are brave enough to ask for help, do your best to offer support.

brazilian

i heart brazil. and not just for their tranny porn.

Brazil Refuses U.S. AIDS Funds, Rejects Conditions
Wall Street Journal - May 2, 2005
Michael M. Phillips and Matt Moffett

Brazil refused $40 million in American AIDS grants to protest the U.S. requirement that recipients first sign a pledge condemning prostitution.

Brazil's decision escalates a global fight over the moral strings President Bush and his conservative allies in Congress attach to foreign assistance, especially when it comes to sex, drugs and AIDS prevention in developing nations.

Brazil is seen by some as a model in the battle against the spread of AIDS, and Brazilian officials say that is in part because they deal in an accepting, open way with prostitutes, homosexual men, intravenous-drug users and other high-risk groups. The Brazilians say it would hobble their work if they complied with U.S. demands and forced groups that implement AIDS programs -- including prostitutes' associations -- to condemn prostitution."

We can't control [the disease] with principles that are Manichean, theological, fundamentalist and Shiite," said Pedro Chequer, director of Brazil's AIDS program and chairman of the national commission that made the decision to turn down further U.S. money as long as the antiprostitution pledge requirement remains in place. He said the commission members, including cabinet ministers, scientists, church representatives and outside activists, viewed U.S. demands as "interference that harms the Brazilian policy regarding diversity, ethical principles and human rights."

Brazil appears to be the first major recipient nation to take such a definitive stand against U.S. efforts to link billions of dollars in foreign aid to conservative responses to social ills. Some Republican lawmakers in Washington are pressing to cut off federal grants to those who don't support the president's views promoting sexual abstinence, condemning prostitution and opposing clean-needle exchanges for drug-users. Meanwhile, the White House has steered more federal money to groups that bring a religious orientation to overseas health programs.

"Obviously, Brazil has the right to act however it chooses in this regard," said Sen. Sam Brownback (R., Kan.), one of the leaders of the conservative cause on Capitol Hill. He said he hoped the money would be redirected to countries whose AIDS policies are more in line with those of the Bush administration and the Republican-controlled Congress. "We're talking about promotion of prostitution, which the majority of both the House and the Senate believe is harmful to women," he said.

Last week, Brazilian authorities wrote the U.S. Agency for International Development, one of the main distributors of official American aid, explaining the decision to reject the remainder of the grant, which began in 2003 and was to run through 2008 for a total of $48 million.

The American money was a small part of Brazil's overall anti-AIDS push. About 90% of Brazil's total funding for AIDS programs comes from its own revenue, with 7% or 8% coming from the World Bank and the rest from the U.S. and other governments. Dr. Chequer said the Brazilian government would increase its funding to make up for the lost U.S. funds.

USAID spokeswoman Roslyn Matthews said yesterday the agency is still reviewing the Brazilian decision. "This is an evolving situation," she said. "We are in the process of determining next steps.

"Prostitution isn't a crime in Brazil, and prostitutes' associations are among the most active groups engaged in anti-AIDS work. The U.S. money was to have included $190,000 for eight prostitutes' groups around Brazil, according to Gabriela Leite, coordinator of the Brazilian Network of Sex Professionals and a former prostitute. Ms. Leite said she participated in lengthy discussions with USAID to ensure that American money went only to AIDS education and prevention, and not to other prostitutes' rights issues. The result was a 50-page agreement, she said, but it broke down because her group was unwilling to condemn prostitution.

Brazil's approach to the AIDS epidemic is considered a model by some scientists and public-health specialists. The government encourages abstinence and sexual fidelity, but its prevention efforts focus more on condom education and distribution. In addition, since 1996 the country has provided free, life-extending antiretroviral drug cocktails to anyone infected with HIV.

The result is a spread of HIV far less serious than had been feared. In 1992, experts forecast 1.2 million Brazilians would carry the AIDS virus by 2002. Instead, there were an estimated 660,000 cases. World-wide almost 40 million people are thought to be infected with HIV.

"Why should we adopt a different orientation if we have been successful for more than 10 years?" asked Sonia Correa, a Brazilian AIDS activist and co-chair of the International Working Group on Sexuality and Social Policy, a global forum of researchers and activists.

The antiprostitution pledge requirement came out of two 2003 U.S. laws, one dealing with AIDS and the other with forced prostitution or sex trafficking.

*thanks jinxremoving on livejournal*

happy masturbation month

May is mastubation month! and i expect each and every one of you to celebrate.

as part of my job that i am leaving in less than two weeks (happy dance), i assembled a large calendar database of holidays and anniversaries. so, i'm thinking of adding a "this day in history" feature to my blog. let me know what you think. if it's dull and boring and stupid, i'll listen to your vetos.

so, here's the test run.

May is
Asian Pacific American Heritage Month
Asthma & Allergy Awareness Month
Eat Dessert First Month
Haitian Heritage Month
National Hepatitis Awareness Month
National Masturbation Month
National Mental Health Month
National Osteoporosis Awareness Month
Teen Pregnancy Prevention Month
Women’s Health Care Month

Additionally, this week is Be Kind to Animals Week and Children's Mental Health Week.

May 1st is May Day and Stepmother's Day.

May, 1948
Alfred Kinsey's Sexual Behavior in the Human Male is published

May 1, 1866
American Equal Rights Association formed
Lucretia Mott is elected president

May 1, 1830
Birthday of Mary Harris Jones
“Mother Jones”, American labor leader and organizer

May 1, 1855
Feminist Lucy Stone marries Henry Blackwell
The couple wrote their own vows removing the word obey. Lucy Stone kept her maiden name.

May 1, 1950
Gwendolyn Brooks wins Pulitzer Prize
The first African American to win a Pulitzer prize for her book of poetry, Annie Allen


And because it is already May 2nd

May 2, 1903
Birthday of Benjamin Spock
American pediatrician and author

May 2
Melanoma Monday
Skin Cancer Awareness

May 2
Sibling Appreciation Day

i had a dream

I was visiting my mother from wherever I was living a pseudo-conservative professional life (I was wearing a suit and my hair was up, I’m sure my politics were still radical). We were watching the news and there was a story on a senator trying to ban sex workers and former sex workers from public schools, including public colleges.

Dacia was organizing the opposing representative. She was on the news and in the newspapers. And leading a debate that evening. So I drove over.

The debate was in an elementary school cafeteria. Dacia was finishing her statements when I arrived. I sat down on the floor (a feat in my suit skirt) next to a crowd dressed in white.

The senator speaks. People go up to him to shake his hand while he is still at the podium. The white folks (sex worker activists that were from a group that was a cross or combination between PONY, COYOTE, $pread, and SWP) rise around me. They form two lines and file by him, shaking his hand on either side. He looks horrified but is stuck. I watched in awe, thinking that this man was convinced he was surrounded by prostitutes. I knew many of the individuals were from a variety of sex work professions and some were “just activists”.

After the debate, I congratulated Dacia and went looking for the bathroom. Ended up on a school bus with supporters of the politician. We parked on a pier by the river. There was a bar set up on the pier (think little bar on wheels hotels will wheel around to conference rooms when they are being used for receptions). I was trying to find my way off the pier when I was approached by the senator. He handed me a drink and put his hand on my ass. He started talking about “those filthy disgusting whores” while kneading my ass.

I turned to him, removed his hand from my ass, and said, “I am a whore.” He looked me up and down, shot me a withering glare, and said “When was the last time you turned a trick.”

When I told him I hadn’t tricked in years (in the future, remember), he said, then you’re hardly a whore. He then pulled me against his hard on. He gave me the choice of fucking him for $300 to prove I’m a whore or blowing him for free to prove I am not. I felt trapped.

I woke up.