the educated slut

one year later

2007-09-17T21:16:00.000-04:00

hey, ya'll.

i'm alive and thriving in new york.

i have been at my job teaching sex ed and leading an hiv peer education group with teens in the bronx for 1 year and 6 days, exactly. i just received a promotion to full time and i'm about to hire an assistant! i'm officially a "coordinator" now. big boss, hell yeah!

sandy (the puppy) seems to have completed her adjustment. she now pees comfortably without grass (a major triumph). there is a dog park a few blocks from our apartment but the fleas come out in the summer. we've had to avoid the park for the last two months. but if this cold snap lasts a few more days we may be able to return shortly.

sandy and i have taken quite a few roadtrips to north carolina and florida. she loves a good drive.

i just joined a gym.

crazy-wise, i'm super functional and stable. i have been on the same basic cocktail since march and it is working well. two major side effects: dry mouth (i'm thirsty ALL the time) and low sex drive. the sex drive isn't as much of an issue as it could be. virgin roommate makes for challenging masturbation and ridiculous work schedule places relationships, etc far on the back burner.

the main thing is: I LOVE MY KIDS! my peer educators rock the world. they are 22 young people between 13 and 19. guys and girls. primarily straight, but a few are coming out to close friends/themselves. we have gone to conferences, plays, movies, health fairs, concerts, and festivals. i took them the vagina monologues for v-day. 12 (5 guys, 7 girls). they LOVED it! the guys especially. i had a moment of conflict when they asked for survivors of abuse/assualt to stand, but i decided to represent. one of my girls asked me about it on the subway home. i told her it wasn't the best time, but she could come talk to me one-on-one. they drop by the office or call my phone regularly (i gave them my number for field trips, now they call with random questions, etc whenever they feel like it). i've started an informal book exchange with some of the ladies.

i'm also starting a second club this fall. loosely titled "let's talk about sex" or "sex talk" (clever pg-13 suggestions welcome), a group of participants will get together weekly to discuss sex and sexuality in their lives. we'll look at news, movies, music, politics, and their experiences. i'm bringing in guest speakers and screening films. i'm hoping that all the sessions will be co-facilitated by participants. please give me suggestions for movies & music to enjoy with my teens.

the biggest event this fall is the birth of the peer educators' first friday events. we are hosting monthly events with performances, information, and free rapid hiv testing for bronx teens. the first event is october 5th. wish me luck!

i serve on a handful of coalitions. i just applied for a seat on a community advisory board. for the first time, i was open about my sex work experience on a (confidential) document with my real name on it. hope it doesn't backfire. knock wood.

summary: i'm great. returning to new york was one of the best decisions of my life. sorry i dropped of the face of the web. thank you for all your thoughts and kind words. my love.
jane

what does normal look like?

2006-10-03T10:25:00.000-04:00

yesterday i prepared a worksheet for my high school students. we were doing the general sexual anatomy (which ducky doolittle refers to as "pleasure anatomy" in sex with the lights on) lesson and i wanted something to compliment the illustrations.

i was so pleased when i stumbled upon the soft hard gallery http://www.erectionphotos.com/softHardGallery/SoftHardGalleryP01.htm
i used many of the soft images to build a collage for my students. I also used images from the-clitoris.com's The Vulva Revealed gallery http://www.the-clitoris.com/n_html/n_v_image1.htm.

so i made a worksheet with ten penises and 8 vulvas (because the vulva pictures were larger and of better quality) and in the middle had the words "what does normal look like?"

i passed around the worksheet to my 11th and 12th graders, letting them know the images were graphic and they were free to decline to look at them. i asked the question "which one is the normal one?" they each voiced differing opinions, tending to choose the straighter circumcised penises or the more symetrical vulvas. then i popped the mind-blowing statement:

"they're all normal."

the reaction were immediate. " but miss, what's wrong with this one?" or that one or why are here lips so large or why is his head so small. The answer: "there is nothing wrong with any of these. they are all normal healthy vulvas and penises."

it blew their minds.

no pun intended.

CDC recommends HIV testing for most Americans

2006-09-21T14:17:00.000-04:00

from http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14938109/

AP, ATLANTA - All Americans between the ages of 13 and 64 should be routinely tested for HIV to help catch infections earlier and stop the spread of the deadly virus, federal health recommendations announced Thursday say.

The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said HIV testing should become about as common as a cholesterol check. Nearly half of new HIV infections are discovered when doctors are trying to diagnose a sick patient who has come for care, CDC officials said.

“We know that many HIV infected people seek health care and they don’t get tested. And many people are not diagnosed until late in the course of their illness, when they’re already sick with HIV-related conditions,” said Dr. Timothy Mastro, acting director of the CDC’s division of HIV/AIDS prevention.

“By identifying people earlier through a screening program, we’ll allow them to access life-extending therapy, and also through prevention services, learn how to avoid transmitting HIV infection to others,” he said.

The announcement was hailed by some HIV patient advocates and health policy experts. They said the guidelines could help end the stigma of HIV testing and lead to needed care for an estimated 250,000 Americans who don’t yet know they have the disease.

“I think it’s an incredible advance. I think it’s courageous on the part of the CDC,” said A. David Paltiel, a health policy expert at the Yale University School of Medicine.

The recommendations aren’t legally binding, but they influence what doctors do and what health insurance programs cover.

Some physicians groups predict the recommendations will be challenging to implement, involving new expenditures of money and time for testing, counseling and revising consent procedures.

Some physicians also question whether there is enough evidence to expand testing beyond high-risk groups, said Dr. Larry Fields, the president of the American Academy of Family Physicians.

“Are doctors going to do it? Probably not,” Fields said.

But the recommendations were endorsed by the American Medical Association, which urged physicians to comply.

“This is important public health strategy to stop the spread of HIV,” Dr. Nancy Nielsen, a Buffalo, N.Y.-based physician who sits on the AMA’s governing board, said in a statement.

No consent form needed

Previously, the CDC recommended routine testing for those at high-risk for catching the virus, such as intravenous drug users and gay men, and for hospitals and certain other institutions serving areas where HIV is common. It also recommends testing for all pregnant women.

Under the new guidelines, patients would be tested for HIV as part of a standard battery of tests they receive when they go for urgent or emergency care, or even during a routine physical.

Patients wouldn’t get tested every year: Repeated, annual testing would only be recommended only for those at high-risk.

There would be no consent form specifically for the HIV test; it would be covered in a clinic or hospital’s standard care consent form. Patients would be allowed to decline the testing.

CDC officials have been working on revised recommendations for about three years, and sought input from more than 100 organizations, including doctors’ associations and HIV patient advocacy groups. The CDC presented planned revisions at a scientific conference in February.

Since then, the CDC has strengthened language on informed consent to make sure that no one is tested without their knowledge, and emphasized the need for doctors to provide information on HIV tests and the meaning of positive and negative results.

© 2006 The Associated Press. All rights reserved.

i heart natalie dee

2006-09-21T14:05:00.000-04:00

my new favorite natalie dee comic http://www.nataliedee.com/032806/hats-for-tats.jpg

define sex

2006-09-20T13:52:00.000-04:00

in preparation for an activity with my new kids, i've been scouring dictionaries for an inclusive definition of sex and sexuality. unable to find anything satisfying, i turn to you, dear readers.

How do you define "sex"?

How do you define "sexuality"?

i appreciate your participation.

shoot 'em up

2006-09-18T14:21:00.000-04:00

My baby sister is going to college. She has her extra long twin sheets, mini refridgerator, and a little something extra. My baby sister has the HPV vaccine.

More specifically, she has the first shot in a series of three that protects against four strands of the human papilloma virus. Similar to the Hep B vaccine, the vaccination is provided in three doses - the second two months after the first and the third six months after the first.

The vaccine, Gardasil, appears to be 100% effective against HPV-16 and HPV-18, the strains that account for 70% of cervical cancers. It is almost as effective with HPV-6 and HPV-11 which cause 90% of genital warts.

The vaccine is approved for women and girls between the ages of 9 and 26. Clinical trials are underway to examine effectiveness with boys and men.

So, what about women over the age of 26? Since HPV is so widespread, is it assumed that those over 26 have been exposed? What about the women over 26 who have managed to avoid exposure through abstinence, safer sex, and luck?

And what of the women who have been exposed to one, but not all four types of HPV the vaccine offers protection against? Say you've had abnormal paps, but not warts, shouldn't you have access to the vaccine to prevent warts in the future, not to mention further abnormal paps from the other strain(s) of HPV?

Now that the vaccine is available, is there access? I know my sister was able to get the hook up in rich white suburbia but what about lower income neighborhoods? Will insurance and medicaid subsidize? Will it be available for free or on the cheap with other vaccinations? Can I ethically advocate vaccination to my teenagers in the Bronx, knowing that the series of shots cost $360?

So many questions. I suppose we will see.

http://www.webmd.com/content/article/123/115099.htm
http://www.cdc.gov/std/hpv/STDFact-HPV-vaccine.htm#hpvvac2

the before

2006-08-29T00:07:00.000-04:00

So I’m at that moment just before everything comes together. You know, the one where you’re ready to shoot yourself. So stressed out right now. I have four days to find an apartment. Then I fly home on Thursday, pack up my house on Friday, and drive back to New York, friend and Sandy aboard, on Saturday. Somehow I’ve managed to avoid a full blown panic attack, knock wood. My leg won’t stop shaking (it has always shook but now it really is constant) and I have ouchy bumps on my fingertips. Not to mention all the stress pimples. I am quite the pretty picture right now. Think of this as the “before”. Before the apartment is found, before the move, before the official letter of employment, before the job starts. The after will be beautiful.

good news

2006-08-24T19:07:00.000-04:00

So much good news.

First and most importantly, I had my last day of work. Retired once again. My next day of labor will be in new york in september.

The big news is that the emergency contraception pills Plan B have been FDA approved for over-the-counter sale to women over 18. This is a major victory many years in the making. It still raises questions about whether those under 18 should be able to purchase EC without a prescription, as well as should men be able to purchase the product (which could be a non-issue but all the articles i find refer to "women 18 and older" ignoring the possibility that a man might wish to purchase ec for his partner; similar to a woman buying condoms only for emergency situations). http://www.webmd.com/content/article/126/116441.htm

More good news, not specific to today, is the FDA approval of Famvir, a single dose treatment for herpes (earlier this August). A single dose of the medication is administered at the first inkling of an outbreak. Tests show that it reduces the severity and length of outbreaks. As a single-dose it is more cost-effective than other chronic treatments such as valtrex (for my poverty-striken pals living with herpes). The downside is it does not reduce asymptomatic shedding or frequency of outbreaks. http://www.webmd.com/content/Article/126/116186.htm

Let's all do a happy sexual health dance. Boogey oogey oogey...

the triumphant return of the educated slut

2006-08-14T19:30:00.000-04:00

because everyone's your friend in new york city!

fuck texas, ya'll.

someone just got a job teaching hiv education in new york city ("new york city?!?" "git a rope...")

so i'm breaking my lease and moving back to the glorious city of my youth (you know, the five years prior to this last one).

although i can't promise sexcapades and whoring, i can promise updates of the educational variety as i'll be back in the scene.

sandy and i will be skipping down the glittering diamond-paved streets.

sex work to social work

2006-05-28T18:30:00.000-04:00

death of the blue haired waitress

so my hair is now red again (as you may have noted on my last nyc visit). it is also shorter.

and a week ago i waitressed my last shift.

the following morning i started a new job as a residential advisor at a housing shelter for teenagers. the work is intense but rewarding (i hope). the hours are long and overtime is guaranteed. but the pay is close to nothing. consequently, i'm leaving my beautiful apartment in montrose and moving elsewhere.

cha-cha-cha-cha-changes...

so chances are my blogging will slack even more, unless i happen to develop a sex life (outside of work, duh). apologies in advance. wish me luck as i embark.

sleeping with the rapist

2006-05-08T09:59:00.000-04:00

I originally wrote this piece for an anthology. It was rejected, but it began to snowball the healing process. Please feel free to share. I'd like this one to be heard.

Sleeping with the Rapist
Jane Vincent

And she said don’t (don’t!)
Stop (stop)
Maybe you better go.
Yes she said don’t (don’t)
Stop (stop)
She kept on saying no.
Til she cried, “Don’t stop don’t stop loving, Dan.
You got fifty nine minutes to go.”
from “Don’t Stop Dan” by the Checkers

I lost my virginity to a rapist.

He didn’t rape me. I didn’t know he was a rapist at the time. Later I learned he had raped two acquaintances.

But I still feel guilty. I wonder if my actions that evening enabled the belief of “no means yes”.

At 18 I was sick of being a virgin. I found a guy that was reputed to put out (he was a playa' or whatever is the equivalent of a boy slut). We met with a group at a hookah bar about a week before graduation. He would come in to IHOP and drink coffee until I got off work. We'd drive around dark country roads with the windows down and Led Zepplin blaring. He would make awkward attempts at compliments and gave me a Pink Floyd t-shirt for my birthday. He would do.

An integral part of this decision was the fact that he was going in to the services. The coast guard. Reserves. (This was before the current war torn state, so it really was a joke). I was leaving on a ten day trip to Europe with my parents. By the time I returned, he would be at boot camp. He would not get out of camp until I had already left for college in New York. So, theoretically, I wouldn't have to worry about a relationship or any of that icky dumping-the-guy stuff.

The evening before his coast guard physical, he picked me up from a particularly long shift at IHOP. We got a room at the Comfort Inn. I was convinced everyone knew what we were doing. The only room available was a suite. This meant we got a bottle of cheap champagne and two plastic dixie cups and one of the regionally legendary jacuzzis.

He popped the champagne and drew me a bath. We sat across from each other in the jacuzzi, full of conditioning-shampoo bubbles, and he gave me a foot rub (waitresses of the world sigh in ecstasy). At this point I was ready to just go to sleep.

So we got out of the tub and toweled off. I then walked to the bed with my towel slung over the shower rod. He modestly tucked his towel around his waist and made some comment about me being "wild" and "bold". Um, I walked ten feet in the buff. Really wild, there.

He turned on the TV to some war movie set in Asia so there was karate, ninjas, and guns. We started making out. I went down on him. At the last minute I pulled up, bit his nipple, and asked him to get a condom."What? Oh, man, I don't have any. I didn't want to make any assumptions."

Hello! We are going to a hotel together. Translation: we will be having sex. You are the boy. The boy gets the condoms. (Thankfully, I am now liberated enough to carry around a dozen or so condoms for all my friends at any given time. And condoms do not assume anything. They are a responsible person’s way of preparing for the future, which could possibly include sex or the need for water balloons).

“Never mind,” I rolled over and huffed."In that case, I'm going to sleep." I said and closed my eyes. He spooned against me. After a few minutes he began kissing my neck. And then we were making out. And mutually jacking the other off. And he pulled up. "I'll pull out," he whispered as he pushed his way inside me. So romantic.

I never said yes. I even said no, although I acknowledge it was more the role of the good girl to deny sexual desire and especially sex without condoms then actual opposition. I wanted to have sex but couldn’t give myself permission to consent. I knew how to say no. What I didn’t know was how to say yes.

Later, I was raped. The scenario was strikingly similar to the loss of my virginity — the difference being my consent. At the end of my freshman year I was raped by a date that I trusted. It was actually a third date. I had been so proud of myself for not putting out immediately. I was going to do the three date standard. I really liked the guy and had plans for a relationship.

But I had been diagnosed with mono the day before. He wouldn't let me cancel the date so we went to a bar that didn't card. After one drink I was swinging and flushed. My hair caught on fire (no lie). I was so exhausted that I needed to go home.

He was too cheap for a cab so walked me the fourteen (okay, they were only street) blocks. Then he asked to come to my dorm room for a phone number. I agreed and signed him in. Soon after he was upstairs, I lay down because I was tired and sick. He lay down next to me. We were making out and getting hot and heavy.

I asked him to put on a condom. He didn't have one. Said he never used them. I didn't have one because I was still the girl. I hadn’t learned to carry my own condoms as I still wasn’t entirely comfortable with my sexual appetite. I didn't steal one from a roommate because I didn't want to have sex at that point, I just wanted to sleep. I told him I wouldn't fuck without a condom but he was welcome to stay the night.

I fell asleep after that. I woke up to him fucking me. I didn't really feel much of anything. I dissociated and watched. Couldn’t speak or scream or push or anything. Then I felt his fingers in my ass. He pulled back and pushed his dick inside me. I was in shock. I had never had any sort of anal sex before. I thought I was crying but I could see my face that was completely emotionless. After he came, he fell asleep in my bed beside me.

In the morning we took a shower together and I signed him out of my dorm. I was still in shock. I avoided his calls and emails that lasted the next six weeks.

It was the calls and emails that most shocked me. They now cause me to question whether he knew he had raped me? Did he know my no meant no? Or did he think I was just playing the part of the girl, resisting what she really wants but can’t ask for.

I am not accepting blame for my own rape or the rape of others. I am questioning the knowledge of the rapists. Did they understand the effect of their actions?

Sexologists refer to the use of “no” when sexual intimacy is desired as “token resistance.” Token resistance is a part of our sexual culture. As boys are taught to pursue and girls are taught to resist, each side is endowed with a simple term. We learn the rule early, boys always say “yes”, and girls always say “no”.

Our culture needs a two-pronged approach to sexual communication to prevent rape. First, we need to teach men (and women) to respect no. When either partner says no, sexual activity stops. In the BDSM scene there is the concept of “safe words”. Partners will predesignate a word to mean no or stop. This word is generally something not uttered during sex play, for example: apple. If the word apple is said during sex play, all activity stops immediately. Similarly, another word can be designated for slow down. Going with the fruit theme, we could say banana. When banana is said, the particular activity can be stopped while sex play continues. Armed with an understanding of the meaning of apples and bananas, a couple’s communication skills are miles above the general population that is still entrenched in “no means no except when it means yes”.

The second, and equally important step, is teaching women (and men) how to say yes to their desires and to sex in general. Because, in the current state of romantic scripts, “no” has multiple meanings. Only when we are provided with the tools to articulate our desires, will “no” be used strictly as refusal. No can’t mean just no until we have the ability to say yes.

i'm not here, this isn't happening

2006-04-22T22:53:00.000-04:00

radiohead kid a was the cd of the moment. i had spent a week with a close friend, a bottle of tequila, a carton of orange juice, and radiohead on repeat. exhausting sex had ensued as well as talk of the missing two years of my life. my friend believed i had been assaulted as a child. said i was a "raped dream", like that was a compliment. i don't know why i don't remember the chunk of time from seven to nine. i remember the day before the last day of school before christmas break in second grade. and then i remember trying to kill myself by smothering myself between the mattress and the box spring. i was nine then. in the new house. there are plenty of reasons to block out that period. my best friend burned to death in a christmas tree fire. my alcoholic and early alzheimers (although we didn't know it then) grandfather came to live with us following a car crash that left him unable to walk. we moved for the first time. plus the first rush of hormones and childhood depression seems almost logical. but i was looking for answers. and sexual abuse seemed to fit. if i knew what happened, i could heal. but really it just opened me up. made me a cavern of vulnerability. maybe that is what attracted mark. i just typed his real name and left it. the sparks behind my eyelids start flashing and i feel like gushing forth but tears refuse to come. if only i could cry...
so i'm processing. i even made a cd to process to. the playlist is:
1. giving up - ana nalick
2. summertime - janis joplin
3. precious things - tori amos
4. roads - portishead
5. history (repeats itself) - aos
6. how to disappear completely - radiohead
7. breath - ana nalick
8. let go - frou frou
9. fair - remy zero
10. say goodbye - throwing muses
11. flower - eels
12. little girl blue - janis joplin
13. whispering pines - dar williams
14. hold on - tom waits
15. i shall believe - sheryl crow
16. hallelujah - leonard cohen
17. wait - get set go

tonight was spent with a glass of wine, a glass of water, half a pack of cigarettes, and this cd. the cigarettes assure that i keep breathing. which was a task once "how to disappear completely" came on. the song was playing when i woke up to find mark on top of me. it was almost instructional. dissociation, my selection from the fight, flight, freeze response trigger, came too easily. i watched him fuck me from above. his eyes closed. mine open.

i had been asleep. dreaming. woke slowly, pleasantly, still drunk and downtrodden from mono, not really present. my hips were moving involuntarily but not altogether unpleasantly. i had no idea what was happening except my head was spinning. then i heard him moan. breathing heavily. i opened my eyes. when i realized, if i realized, i was already above the bed looking down.

when i felt the weight of his fingers in my ass, i anticipated pain, but none came. only numb dull fullness. my body opened for him.

this betrayal of my body. even though i did not consent. had said no repeatedly and firmly earlier in the evening due to the lack of condoms. had gone to sleep with the matter settled. i awoke fucked, fucking, and my body responded.

i held my breath but my hips returned his rhythm. i wanted to cry or cry out or feel the searing pain of this violation but i couldn't. my body refused to feel but acted on its own.

once he finished with my ass and returned to my wet (goddamit, how could i be wet at a time like this) pussy, i closed my eyes, not able to watch anymore. i tried to just go back to sleep. pretend it wasn't happening. let it all be over. just let it be over.

he came inside of me. the warm wet seeping between my legs is the only sensation i can remember of the night.

later, when my period was six weeks late, i kept putting off pregnancy tests because i did not want to admit it had happened. even when i finally bought one, it was due to unprotected sex, not rape.

it took me over a year before i could get an hiv test. i knew i was hiv positive. only after working with wonderful hiv positive folk at gmhc and coming to terms with how i would live the final ten or so years of my life could i finally get tested. still, from drunken unprotected sex. not rape.

the first time i applied the term rape to the situation was in my hiv and society class. we did a blind writing assignment where everyone wrote about their first hiv test or why they hadn't had one yet. i wrote "i was raped. i knew i had hiv. i put off the inevitable confirmation as long as possible. when the test came back negative i wanted to cry, but was only numb." the group next to mine got my response. there was a lot of conversation and speculation about who it could be from. the professor handled it gracefully.

so tonight my goal was to cry. i shook and heaved and my mouth sobbed, but my eyes remained relatively dry. maybe i'll be able to cry in the bath.

drunken blogging

2006-04-21T22:55:00.000-04:00

so i am pet-sitting for my family this weekend. translation: i am getting drunk on my parents' wine while the dogs bark with sandy.

i have been getting drunk a lot lately. part of it is social excursions, such as drunken yahtzee at the maple leaf (yes, a canadian bar in houston). and part of it is coping/avoidance and general escapism.

my therapy is taking a hard turn. we are beginning to deal with being raped. chances are i will be talking about it more often, as i have finally "confessed" to a few friends and have generally been thinking about it at great length.

my therapist and i are utilizing a great resource: staci haines' "the survivor's guide to sex". some of you may recall my previous mention of her dvd "healing sex" (DO NOT WATCH THE DVD IN ONE SITTING!!!!). it is a wonderful tool. so my therapist and i are reading a chapter a week. our first chapter is chapter three on dissociation.

i am a master of dissociation. not only did i dissociate when i was raped, but i had dissociated during many earlier sexual encounters and continued to dissociate through many later sexual experiences. part of this was healing. part of this was preserving and protecting myself.

later, dissociation surrendered to drunkenness. i can count on one hand the number of times i have had sex sober. yeah, i have issues. we've established this. i was drunk for not only the worst but many of the best sexual experiences of my life (including fucking dacia).

i have always had a low tolerance for alcohol. add my current dosing of antidepressants, mood stabilizers, and tranquilizers and you get a sloshed jane from two drinks and a cigarette.

so five drinks and half a pack of cigarettes later you have a drunken jane blogging to hundreds about her lack of ability to fuck sober. granted not a total lack of ability. there have been rare and tender moments completely lucid (think the tantalizing and boobalicious rachel kramer bussel). but they drown amongst the drunken times.

lately though i have made an improvement. i have stopped fucking. if i can't fuck unless i'm fucked up then i'm not fucking at all. although i'm still fucked up. how many times can i type fuck in one paragraph? anyways, i have not had sex since i left new york. this is a great and healthy choice. i'm taking care of myself and my body. doesn't mean i don't get horny and lustful. but i haven't had an intimate connection with anyone worthy of breaking celibacy.

so the inevitable outcome has two options. either i fall in love/deep like and "make love" to a lucky someone or on one of my drunken occasions, i fall in to bed with someone and have a great time. we shall see...

Lesbian Smut

2006-04-14T10:57:00.000-04:00

First-Timers: True Stories of Lesbian Awakening

The lovely Rachel Kramer Bussel's newest anthology is out! First-Timers: True Stories of Lesbian Awakening, is available at bookstores and on Amazon now. I will be reading from my story "Wear Me Home" on June 21st at In The Flesh.

I'm actually in the book twice! Once in my own story about my first sexual encounter with a transman and then again in Audacia's story, aptly titled "What's a little fisting between friends?" You can guess what that one is about.

So check it out, then check me out In The Flesh.

trippin'

2006-04-13T19:10:00.000-04:00

among the crying randomly (goddam garden state) and jerking off furiously (jon stewart, yum!), i have been globetrotting, or nation-trotting if you will. really just two location-trotting, but enough with the semantics.

a few weeks a go i had the opportunity to spend a full week on my parents' land in north carolina, hauling rocks around a mountain. i built rock walls and lined ditches and bridges. i also built a mock kiln that operated as a fire pit.

i ate cinnamon apple pancakes with my father at grandma's pancake and steak in Cherokee, then cruised next door to the talking leaves bookstore where i bought my first sherman alexi (the lone ranger and tonto fist fight in heaven). remarkably, i was able to read the book (a task that has been difficult since my breakdown this fall).

i played with my baby cousins and tolerated my middle sister (until my parents' tried to force us to drive 13 hours together, bad bad bad idea).

i even planted a mountainside garden. down the slope from the house (because my mother didn't want the birds scatting all over the yard) i planted mounds of squash, zucchini, watermelon (three kinds!), pumpkins, gourds, and a couple hundred sun flowers. the seed packets promised low maintenance and drought resistance so i hope they come up.

sandy is truly a mountain dog. although at first she was afraid to walk over raised branches, by the end of the trip she was galloping through the woods. once we arrived after the two day drive, sandy decided she did not want to get back in the car. so she chased the car up and down the mountain instead of riding along. her tongue flopped wildly. half the time you could only see her tail swinging along in the rear view. she had a blast.

after a short week back in houston, i took off again. this time for the sex work matters conference in new york. i met many lovely ladies (http://xflickerflyx.livejournal.com, http://www.sacredwhore.org/, and http://www.jessicamelusine.com/ among them). unfortunately, dacia and i were struck down with flu-like infections and had to leave the conference only half-full of the knowledge and networking provided.

the night before the conference was spent at the sex worker visions art show http://sexworkervisions.blogspot.com/. the place was jam packed. i was performance artist Melissa Gira's bodyguard for the evening. i really wanted to buy christy road's self-exam piece (yeah, speculums and mirrors).

oh, and my cleavage was reunited with miss rachel kramer bussel's boobage. the girls are still rosy from the encounter.

I was even interviewed by the new york times. okay, so i'm not a foot fetish model, but i've done foot play. i just didn't want my grandmother to see my picture in the new york times (and they took plenty of pictures) with the subtitle, "jane vincent, a self-proclaimed whore". and the reporter was super skeezy. he was pissed that i wouldn't give him my real name. props to the photographer, who was chill and down to earth. The link is long and you have to be a ny times member, but it was the "an old profession that's new to doing taxes article" of april 5th, if you want to check it out.

that saturday was spent gallery hopping with a sex worker posse composed of melissa gira, jessica melusine, audacia and myself.

on sunday, my flight was rescheduled due to my massively swollen ear drums. so i slept all day in dacia's bed, drinking water and dosing myself on mucinex.

but the unfortunate illness allowed for a surprise appearance at monday night's Pervert's Saloon. I read from "the naked man in my bathroom" http://educatedslut.blogspot.com/2005/06/naked-man-in-my-bathroom-whole-story.html#comments. The best part was meeting so many fellow bloggers and readers. A special shout out to Rose of http://www.aliferestarted.blogspot.com/aliferestarted.blogspot.com who wrote an amazing piece for O, my first orgasm (send in your submissions, people, to omyfirstorgasm@yahoo.com) that you can read at http://omyfirstorgasm.blogspot.com/2006/03/im-not-its-not-broken.html. one day i will learn to do little link things, really.

so, now i'm back in houston, where i'm looking for jobs in my field (at least with some form of youth leadership, teaching, or health angle because all the sex is abstinent only or requires a clinical license), making friends, drinking too much but doing so in public therefore it is social outreach (my shrink is big on social activities), writing a business plan for a coffee shop, and going to the occasional lesbian wet t-shirt contest.

help a merry kinkster out

2006-03-07T11:19:00.000-05:00

so i have been a busy little bee.

i have been writing up a fierce storm to the echoing applause of silent rejections (at least send a note, people). and i have been making leaps and bounds in therapy.

but of greater interest to you, i have been editing omyfirstorgasm.blogspot.com, which now updates every monday and thursday. send in stories of your first and i'll make you a stah, dahling. be sure to adhere to the call for submissions(http://omyfirstorgasm.blogspot.com/2006/02/call-for-submissions.html) .

i have also started (finally) contributing to the budding Cootchie! Creative Organizing Of The Community for Health Information and Education. There is now a resource list of sliding scale STI testing facilities up on the blog (http://cootchieorg.blogspot.com). And I will be passing out flyers and condoms around town. If you know a bar or club you think I should shower with free condoms, please comment or email.

Furthermore, I am officially researching sex toy stores in Houston - although the sex toys are adult and/or novelty gifts, but i digress. After taking my little sister to Cindie's for her 18th birthday (she now has two vibes, a bottle of lube, and a tattoo and is ready to take over the world), I am impressed with their selection. But I want to review a wide range of stores. Aside from driving around and stopping in every adult venue I pass (and there are a lot of them down here in Montrose), I'm looking for recommendations.

So help a merry kinkster out, friends, and leave a comment or email the_educated_slut@yahoo.com. Thank you, kindly.

My libido, the prairie dog

2006-02-24T15:27:00.000-05:00

My libido or my sanity… a difficult choice.

Over the last few months of difficult adjustment, I’ve had to make a choice. Actually, several choices.

First, I chose not to pursue rampant casual sex in a compulsive grab to assuage my manic episodes. Instead, I burrowed in my apartment and jerked off like a fiend.

I chose not to pursue sex work, a tool previously used to moderate my sexual compulsivity. I chose this for many reasons, among them legal, lack of support system, and general lack of good head space/emotional state. If I couldn’t hook happily, I wouldn’t whore at all.

My third choice is more ambivalence than a direct “I choose…” statement. I have dated very cautiously. I have strained emotional resources and feel that I have little to bring to a relationship right now.

Sounds like the perfect set up for casual flings, right? Wrong. Because I have no libido.

More specifically, my libido is burrowed deep in a hole. It spends most of its time there. Every now and then it will perk up and look around at the sun. Sometimes it will even scamper. But undoubtedly, before I have a chance to act on it and pursue a partner, it jumps back in to its tight dark hole and hides.

Not that this has slowed down my masturbation. But it has certainly slowed down my orgasms. Sometimes I can have three or four orgasms in a row. Sometimes, after forty five minutes, I turn the Hitachi off and roll over to sleep, unsatisfied.

I know the lull is due to my conscious choices and my recovering mental health. But it is also due to my current medication cocktail. All four of my medications list sexual side effects.

The meds have helped me regain my life. But it is a different life than the one I had. After being such a sexually voracious tart (and very much incorporating that in to my identity) I find myself lacking much sexual appetite at all.

I know this is right for me for now, but the bottom line is, I miss the old sexy jane. I want my libido back, dammit!

orgasmic resources

2006-02-16T23:35:00.000-05:00

From O, my first orgasm (http://omyfirstorgasm.blogspot.com):

In the fall of 2003, I wrote a 15 page, 12 pt, 1.5 spaced term paper: Coming to Pleasure – Contemporary Resources for Women with Orgasmic Difficulties. If anyone would like a copy, email me (omyfirstorgasm@yahoo.com) and I’ll mail you a hard copy (the electronic file has tragically been lost). Here’s a summary of some of the resources I managed to dig up. Please add your favorites.

People

Betty Dodson – The Mother of Masturbation has been teaching women and men sexual empowerment through selflove since the early 1970s. In addition to her classic text, Sex for One (originally titled Liberating Masturbation) and the more recent Orgasms for Two, Betty has produced several videos including Selfloving: Portrait of a Woman’s Sexuality Seminar and Celibrating Orgasm: Women’s Private Selfloving Sessions. http://www.bettydodson.com/

Ducky Doolittle – As a sex educator, writer, and spoken word artist, Ducky’s workshops, performances, writings, and website provide valuable information and liberation in a sex-positive, kink-friendly, humor-filled atmosphere. http://www.drducky.com/

Ellen Freidrichs of Sex Edvice – http://sexedvice.com/

Places

Eve’s Garden – The first woman-centered sex boutique in New York, Eve’s Garden has been open since 1974. Located discreetly on the twelth floor of a midtown office building, Eve’s caters to the mature heterosexual woman who wouldn’t be caught dead on 6th Avenue or the former stores of Times Square. The selection is substantially smaller than Toys in Babeland but could be less intimidating in its intimacy. http://www.evesgarden.com

Babeland (formerly Toys in Babeland) – A woman-oriented, male-welcoming, queer-positive, kink-friendly, all around happy friendly non-threatening place to purchase sexuality products including books, magazines, vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, fetish gear, videos, lubricants, and safer sex supplies. It is also a wonderful place to seek advice from skilled employees or at one of their frequent workshops. http://babeland.com

Good Vibrations – http://www.goodvibes.com/

Blowfish – http://www.blowfish.com/

Come As You Are - http://www.comeasyouare.com/

Books and Films

Sex For One – The Joy of Selfloving – Betty Dodson’s revolutionary text was the first to liberate female masturbation. Although not a how-to-orgasm guide, such as some other resources, Dodson provides a context for orgasm, masturbation, and pleasure through her lovely illustrations and insightful anectdotes. She believes that masturbation holds the key for women who believe they are “frigid.”

For Yourself – The Fulfillment of Female Sexuality – Lonnie Barbach’s text is a program for preorgasmic women to increase sexual pleasure and achieve orgasm. It was recommended as a valuable text for women with limited experience with masturbation and sexual self-exploration. Barbach, like Dodson, conducted group workshops and individual therapy about women’s sexuality. Her text is geared towards the married or partnered heterosexual woman.

The Clitoral Truth – The Secret World at Your Fingertips – Rebecca Chalker’s contemporary text draws from Dodson and Barbahc, as well as thirty years of feminist and sexual revolution. Not focused specifically on orgasm, Chalker provides valuable information on female sexual anatomy and functioning. She dispels many myths and discusses the effects of power and beliefs (both personal and societal) upon sexual pleasure and experience. This book is the most queer-inclusive text I found. The illustrations are wonderful displaying different body types, ethnicities, ages, couples, and singles. For a woman who desires a more general approach to exploring her sexuality, this is a wonderful place to start.

Becoming Orgasmic – A Sexual and Personal Growth Program for Women… And the Men who Love Them – This DVD, based on the popular text, is produced by the Sinclair intimacy Institute. It is an educational film geared towards helping heterosexual married women (and their spouses) reach orgasm. The video follows Elaine and Mike as she pursues her first orgasm.

Please Don’t Stop – Lesbian Tips for Givin’ and Gettin’ It – This film, produced by Good Vibrations’ Good Vibes Sex Positive Crew and Homosexual Chocolate, was recommended by the Toys in Babeland staff as a queer-friendly film for women with orgasmic difficulties. However, it does not specifically address orgasm or orgasmic difficulties. Rather it explores and demonstrates ways to enjoy sexual pleasure alone and with your partner.

new york craving

2006-02-16T21:17:00.000-05:00

tonight i was missing new york, missing dacia, missing days of mutual lap top addiction and sushi box dinners. so, after a phone chat with miss dacia, i decided to order some sushi for dinner. i placed an order for chirashi for pick-up. after waiting the appropriate interval, i drove to pick it up. only to find my order was not ready. because they had not received it. because i had ordered my sushi from new york. so i placed a new order and called the new york sushi place back. their response, "but your order is all ready for pick up". my response, "i'm in texas. i'm so sorry." i got home and cried tears of laughter and wasabi.

O, my first orgasm

2006-02-13T12:25:00.000-05:00

There's a new blog a'brewin'. O, my first orgasm is setting out to be a collection of personal essays on first orgasm. I'm honored to be their first contributor. They just published my piece, "The Joys of Sex Toys."

Here's the call for submissions.

Among the existing “first time” anthologies there remains a void – discussion of first orgasm. First orgasm is unique in its diversity as a common experience.

In my quest for orgasm, I researched heavily. I read instructional guides, watched films, and attended lectures. Sadly, most of what I found was geared towards forty-something married women with attentive partners. As a young single woman, I felt alienated. What little I could find that I related to seemed to focus on the mythical shower head. I would look up at my wall-mounted shower and wonder, “How the heck am I supposed to get my vagina up there?”

Now that my little sister is beginning her search for orgasm, I am hoping to provide her (and the rest of us) with a new resource – a collection of explicit personal essays on first orgasm.

I was hoping you would be interested in contributing to this collection of personal essays on first orgasm. Currently, the collection is being posted to O, my first orgasm at omyfirstorgasm.blogspot.com. I hope to create an anthology proposal out of the submissions. Please indicate in your reply if you would be interested in participating in the anthology, as well as the website.

Previously published works as well as brand spanking new pieces are welcome. We can not provide monetary remuneration at this time but are happy to link to your website. If the project makes the jump to print media, remuneration will be available.

Your piece can be as long or as short as it needs. Please creatively interpret the theme of first orgasm. For example, first orgasm could mean first in a certain circumstance, first alone, first with a partner, first in public, first with a group, first in front of a camera, first after an event, first with medication, first on Viagra, first with a vibrator, first female/male ejaculation, first with a woman, first with a man, first time faking (or not faking), first post transition, or first ever. At this time, we can not accept pieces with underage characters. If you were fortunate enough to experience your first orgasm before 18, please write about a different orgasm.

Please feel free to circulate this call for submissions.

Submissions should be sent to omyfirstorgasm@yahoo.com. Thank you.

Ask Jane: Bloody V Day

2006-02-13T01:12:00.000-05:00

An inquiring reader asked a very good question today. I thought I would share it with all of you.

Hi. I've been reading your blog for ages, and remember
you mentioning the Instead Cup, and was hoping you
could give me some advice about it. See, as I'm sure
you're aware, V-day is right around the corner, and
I've run across at bit of a dillema...my period. The
Instead Cup seems like a good option, but I know next
to nothing about how it works with sex, how easy it is
to put into place, etc. In terms of having sex while
it's inserted, is there any issue with
slippage/spilling/other problems? It's been decided
already that I'm giving my boyfriend the other area of
access for his gift (although it's kind of a selfish
gift, as I figure I'll get a lot out of it too) so I'm
wonding if I even need to worry about my period...but
as little mess as possible is preferable, and if the
Instead Cup is all it's cracked up to be, it seems
like the best option. One last question: in terms of
insertion, does it take awhile to get the hang of it?
And are rather long fingers required? 'Cause mine are
kinda short...anyway, that's all...thanks for *any*
help you can give me, and I'd apologize for the amount
of detail in this email, but I'm guessing you won't be
bothered/shocked by any of it, and I didn't even need
to use such delicate language...all the same...

Thanks.

My response:

Hey, baby. Happy Valentines Day. It sounds like you'll be having plenty of fun. The Instead Cup is great during sex. It does take a few tries to get insertion down pat, but if you practice, you should have it together for the big day. My method of insertion is as follows.
1. Sit on toilet with legs spread.
2. Unwrap cup from its purple wrapper. Hold the rim parallel to the floor with the cup hanging down (like a U not a M).
3. Squeeze the rim together between two fingers.
4. Begin to insert, while squeezed. At this point your vagina should hold it somewhat squeezed so you can adjust your grip to push.
5. Using one or two fingers, push the cup inside your vagina. Be sure to hook the rim behind your pubic bone in your g-spot. This will help ensure the cup covers your cervix.

Long fingers are not required. I have small hands and stubby fingers (great for fisting) and the cup is my menstrual accesory of choice.

*You may want to use a little extra lube during sex as the cervical (but not vaginal) secretions will be captured in the cup.

To remove, reach inside and hook a finger below the rim. Pull out slowly. Chances are you will get a blood gush the first few times you remove. I squirted across the bathroom on to the heater. But you will get the hang of it.

*You may want to switch out the cup for a tampon when transitioning to anal sex. Anal could dislodge the cup and result in a mess. And always use lots o' lube for anal so you'll both have a rockin' good time.

I hope this helps. Enjoy your valentine's bliss.
Jane

The Wet Spots, Naughty Bunnies, and my ass

2006-02-12T15:33:00.000-05:00

I’ve been a busy girl. What with my active career as a blue haired waitress and smut writing up the wazoo, I have been neglecting you, my dear bloggies.

As such, I have a present for you. Straight from Kirby Ferguson himself, his new video for the Wet Spot’s classic hit, “Do You Take It?”

http://www.goodiebag.tv/video/do_you_take_it.htm

Appreciation of this song is requisite to dating (and/or fucking) moi. As I begin to cautiously venture in to the dating scene of houston, I have contemplated making a mix tape for potential partners. Also included on the mix will be the Wet Spots’ introductory “Kinky Neighbor Song”, which became something of an anthem during my move to Texas.

In other product endorsements, http://xflickerflyx.livejournal.com/ sent me a lovely package with her chap book order. It included the Bunny Fun! Coloring activity book (available from Sarah Grinstein, gumdropprodecutions@yahoo.com). This adorable creation features two curvy girlies in innocent anime/furry-ish bunny costumes having a little fun of the BDSM variety. In addition to the coloring book, there are paper dolls, and stickers (including a little ball gag, dildo, and cupcake).

I hope ya’ll enjoy.

arrrrrr-f

2006-02-07T22:31:00.000-05:00

sandy's graduation
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

sandy graduated obedience school tonight, and did a little buckan-ear-ing.

you like me! you really like me!

2006-02-03T20:47:00.000-05:00

the chapbooks have all sold out! if you are still yearning for one, or intended to purchase one but never got me the money, comment here or email me a heads up. i'm going to do a small second run this weekend so asap on those requests, por favor.

10 o'clock cleavage

2006-01-25T00:42:00.000-05:00

10 oclock cleavage
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

on my way out to apply for pub jobs. at least the girls look good.

needle porn

2006-01-23T20:44:00.000-05:00

rainbow girl
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

knitting needles, that is.

there's a new blog in town - knittedporn.blogspot.com

submit your sexy needle and yarn oriented photos to knitporn@yahoo.com.

full disclosure: my hat is crochet. i hope no one minds.

smut vote

2006-01-22T11:53:00.000-05:00

i have been writing intensely. although not for blogging purposes. i have submitted pieces to six different anthologies over the last two weeks. whether they will be accepted, who knows? but writing is good. especially writing strong cohesive pieces.

by the way, why doesn't any local store carry albums by the checkers. i spent friday obsessively searching for the lyrics to "don't stop dan" (the sequel to "sixty minute man"). my dad recorded it off the radio when i was a baby so i grew up listening to it, but he couldn't find the tape. i would like my own copy, anyways. if anyone has access, please feel free to burn me a cd. free chapbook!

oh, by the way, please cast your vote on your favorite educated slut story of 2005. this will help me decide which pieces to polish and which to leave behind in the blogosphere.

the birth of jane

2006-01-20T01:20:00.000-05:00

in light of recent self promotion, i thought i'd give you a dirty story from the archives of my journal. this was written on the subway ride home from jane's first adventure almost three years ago.

Yesterday, I had an awakening. After months of restlessness and lethargy, coupled with medication-induced sedation and sleep deprivation, my body decided it was time to try something new. The libido and interest that had been practically nonexistent, minus masturbation whose frequency was dwindling, charged into action.

I wanted to rub up against every attractive biped I passed. The construction workers at the new office caused me to blush. The glasses-wearing dorks on the train induced strains against the thick inseam of my jens.

So I went home, shaved and trimmed, and today Jane Vincent was born.

Jane – because all the coolest characters are Janes. And they are usually best friends and thus allowed more eccentric leeway.
Vincent – in honor of Edna St. Vincent Millay.

The first act of Jane was to establish an email address: the now defunct seejanerunaway@yahoo.com.

She then placed an ad in the casual encounters section of craigslist. Within two hours she had accumulated 70 replies.

She selected three, plus a fourth with potential, and set her dates.

First was Redford, the strawberry blond cutie. 22. Works as an energy consultant. We met in a starbucks. He gave me his cookie (oatmeal raisen with too much baking soda).

A little awkward conversation and a half-assed game of 20 questions later, he selected to be the dom – dubbed “maestro”. I was his dirty little slut sub. Or at least that was the original idea.

We walked back to his apartment on Madison Square Park. Once inside he put on a live album of the doors. Kinda danced and kissed. Biting and scratching lightly. He removed my hoodie and pushed me down on the bed.

He then rubbed himself against my torso. I could feel his bulge swelling. He asked me if I wanted it.

I begged and pleaded. Said “Please, maestro” very sweetly and undid his belt. Just a button and a zip and I slipped my hand inside, cradling his cock and balls.

He wasn’t going much of anywhere so I decided to start topping from the bottom. I took off his shirt and shifted him up to remove his pants and boxers. I then grabbed my pouch, well-stocked with varieties of condoms, lube, and my trusty toys (a bullet, a nubby g, and a plug).

I selected a honeydew condom and dropped a bit of lube in the tip. I licked his shaft, nipping lightly at his balls as I rolled the tip over the top of his head. I then used my mouth to slide the condom all the way down.

While I sucked his cock, I used my left hand to begin teasing his ass. He had told me he had never played any prostate games. His butthole was tight and nervous. Without stopping my blowjob rhythm, I squirted some lube on my fingers and rubbed them together to try and warm it up. I then began to gently massage his tight little donut.

He sighed. I asked if he liked it. He said yeah. Articulate little maestro.

In one smooth motion, I slid his cock to the back of my throat and plunged my middle finger up his ass, curving forward. He gasped then groaned and his eyes fluttered back slightly.

He said he felt like a woman. I said it was just the oxytocin causing the desire for intimacy and bonding. But i sure as hell felt like a man. After providing some minimal oral pleasure (wrapped of course) i had plugged fim, fucked him, rode him through 3 orgasms, came all over him, then got up to pee and left him with his soaked sheets not even knowing my name

mail whore

2006-01-17T18:18:00.000-05:00

I now have my very own post box. Send me a postcard. Send me your underwear. Send me $5 with a name and address and I will then discreetly mail you a chapbook.

Jane Vincent
The Educated Slut
PO Box 66153
Houston, TX
77266-6153

take home the educated slut

2006-01-11T12:22:00.000-05:00

yesterday, on a creative urge, i put together a chapbook. it features five stories and is a "best of the educated slut". three of the stories are not available online. the other two are a "best of the blogged". it also includes a risk reference chart.

if you would be interested in purchasing one for five bucks (covers my copy costs and mailing), give me a heads up either in the comments or email me at the_educated_slut@yahoo.com. include "dirty chapbook" in the title.

oh yeah, did i mention it is dirty? dirty stories make me happy. how about you?

a sticky situation

2006-01-05T17:42:00.000-05:00

i'm doing a little research and need your assistance. i am trying to answer the age old question - do pop rocks sizzle in cum?

now, this is what i need from you. go to the drug store, gas station, etc and invest 50 cents in a pack of pop rocks. the next time you jerk off or ejaculate for whatever purpose, please pour the pop rocks in your cum. then, email me to let me know if it sizzles.

i need this information no later than saturday evening. thanks for your help!

warning: never ever ever put pop rocks or any sugar candy in a woman's vagina as it can cause yeast infections. furthermore, you probably don't want to get them in your own urethra (the eye of the penis); could be quite the discomfort.

buck angel of my dreams

2005-12-31T19:20:00.000-05:00

there is a dacia in my bed and an angel in my dreams. buck angel that is.

dacia brought along with her the porno flick "buck's beaver" starring "the man with a pussy" himself, buck angel. dacia has had me admiring buck's stills for almost two years now, but this movie was the first chance i had to see him in action.

let's give buck angel a big ole' WHORE-RAY!

first off, buck gets props as an outspoken sex-positive trans-man (female to male transexual).

second, his safer sex practices get me all hot. condomed blow jobs, especially wrapped plastic cock cause me to spring my own turbo-clit. throw in the liberal and uninhibited use of lube and you have one happy jane.

we are not able to watch more than one or two scenes at a time because of our throbbing pussies, so we have only watched the first three scenes. each scene is interspersed with awesome question-answer interview about buck's personal experiences as a bisexual top trans man in porn. so far, the scene in solitary confinement is a great favorite, although the first scene is super hot. i especially enjoyed the jail scene's twist ending. it reminded me of the good old days of tricking.

now i will jump back in bed with the napping dacia (whose site is experiencing technical difficulties).

happy new year!

see jane run away

2005-12-26T20:35:00.000-05:00

very dear former roommate gave me the most wonderful christmas present: $500 to take a trip.

so this april, with the thaw, jane will be road tripping from houston to san francisco and back again. i'll take I-10 over, possibly dipping down to San Diego instead of LA, and then go up to the coast. the way back will cut through nevada, colorado, and new mexico.

so, where should i stop along the way? i'm planning on camping and hostels. who and what should i make a point to see? i'm printing a listing of all the accredited museums in the usa, and another less choosy list for each state. anyone know a place i can find naked ladies or dead babies in jars?

i'm hoping to contact Joanie Blank and maybe buy her lunch. i want to discuss a line of sex toys for the arthritic.

so, if you want to offer me advice, food, or a bed, give me a heads up. i have plenty of time to plan this out, although a little spontaneity will be unavoidable.

the nose knows

2005-12-19T15:56:00.000-05:00

so the ring may soon be switched out for some more versatile studs. check 'em out.

http://www.bodycandy.com/cgi-bin/category.cgi?item=15169

http://www.bodycandy.com/cgi-bin/category.cgi?item=6366

http://www.bodycandy.com/cgi-bin/category.cgi?item=15229

http://www.bodycandy.com/cgi-bin/category.cgi?item=15230

http://www.bodycandy.com/cgi-bin/category.cgi?item=6359

pretty....

maybe not

2005-12-17T22:55:00.000-05:00

so despite some potential embers, no flames burst this evening. my love of my hitachi is renewed.

there was one suitor pre-exhibit, but he shied away when we honestly discussed my history of abnormal pap smears. i totally respect his decision despite the moment that i called dacia proclaiming myself a disease-ridden whore.

regardless of the lack of solid plans, i lined my eyes, put on a new pair of glasses and sassy shirt, and went to the basquiat exhibit. alone. thank you very much.

i had free coffee and saw the amazing work. about an hour into it i began to get suddenly and severely anxious in the pre-panic attack milieu. i scuttled down a back stairway only to come face to face with a fluorescent light two-story dandelion. beautiful but not what i needed.

so i left.

as i waded through the traffic in the parking lot a car slowed to a crawl beside me. he lowered his window and asked for my spot. relieved, i directed him my way.

now i'm home, with my dog, ready to jerk off and tuck myself in to bed. maybe i'll get creative although i'll be sure all my dishes are in the sink.

rainy days and iggy pop

2005-12-17T19:03:00.000-05:00

i am in a mood, if you know what i mean. i've got on a mix of tom waits, iggy pop, lou reed, and leonard cohen and i just posted an open invite to craigslist to buy me a cherry coke at the basquiat exhibit tonight. the solo sex only streak may be broken this evening. we shall see...

self abuse

2005-11-27T11:47:00.000-05:00

the other day at walgreens, while picking up $200 in new meds, I spied with my dirty little eyes a rechargable "back massager" for $14.99. yes, please!

upon taking it home i examined the four different textures surrounding the head, the flexibility of the neck, and the similarity in size to the hitachi with a third of the heft. I was getting all exciting until I tried to turn it on.

It died. Immediately. Thank goodness I can read, so I discovered you have to charge it for eight hours prior to first use (despite the fact that it comes with batteries).

my frustration was quickly cured by my hitachi magic wand and i went to sleep knowing the new toy would wake me in the morning (like the little birds in cinderella).

the next morning, I brought out new toy. I stretched a condom over the head (hitachi requires a glove with fingers tied at the base, but this one can take a condom - it just has a flappy latex tongue flicking around).

I started very basic. Propped my back and shoulders on some pillows. Made sure i was far enough down the bed to flex my toes against the wrought iron base board. and turned the device on.

pleasant. that was my first reaction. not "oh my god!" not "well, this is stupid" but "pleasant." I did some kegels, felt the warmth spreading through my body, and generally enjoyed the glow.

but i wasn't getting anywhere. so i turned it on high (it only has two speeds: note for improvement). I started grinding against the machine. now we were moving. my breathing was longer going out than coming in. things were heaving and twitching.

and then, disaster struck.

FUCK!!!!

the rubber neck liner had snagged on to my pubes. not just one, but a small tuft. and was trying it's darndest to rip them out of my tender lips.

I immediately sprung into action. Machine off. Scenario triaged. Hairs delicately removed.

But now what? I'm all hot and bothered and to top it all off, pissed.

So I arranged for the masturbation session of the month.

I got out my rock chick, condomed, and super lubed. I got out the hitachi, original (i'm sorry i ever strayed, baby). I stacked the pillows in a hill, adjacent to the head board, ready to ride and grind, and hold on to the wrought iron for resistance (when not squeezing my boobs).

I inserted the rockchick, astrode the pillow with the hitachi nestled strategically, leaned forward to a comfortable position, and began to ride. I like to thrust my way in to the gentle vibrations. But the buzz came on quickly, and lights, eyes, breathing, etc became erratically synced.

One hand pulled my hair against the wrought iron head board, while the other twisted my boob (not nipple, boob. now that they are so huge, this sensation rocks it for me). I squirted once. I continued, knowing a second or third was on the way.

And then, in the back thrust, i shifted to the side a millimeter too much, lost my balance, and flew off the bed. i bounced off two moving boxes (still not unbacked) and landed on my back on top of the plate i had eaten reheated thai food off of last night, that sandy had pushed around the floor for the rest of the evening).

The plate shattered beneath my back, I didn't know if i was broken, and the hitachi buzzed and bounced around the wood floor. If it hadn't been thanksgiving, I'd like to think the neighbors may have called or done something to assure I was okay. Fortunately my half of building was empty. I imagined the ambulance crew busting in, m unconscious, thai food under my back, rock chick in my crotch, soaked pillow, and buzzing hitachi.

"See," one would have quipped to the other, "I told you it can kill ya."

You all lost!!!

2005-11-25T21:15:00.000-05:00

And the winner is: COOTCHIE!

Creative Organizing Of The Community (of Houston although we think we are just going to use) for Health, Information, and Education

Houston's newest sexual resource.

Because sexual health is a pleasure.

So you all can head over to cootchie.org or the official organizational blog cootchieorg.blogspot.com and voice your support.

And, because I love you anyways, here are the boobies.

boobies
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

competition

2005-11-07T01:45:00.000-05:00

An official contest!!!

Name my houston-based condom (and lube, and gloves, and other toys of the trade) distribution organization. I want to target adults, including older adults. Not only will there be distribution in clubs, etc, but also senior centers and other events. I have a plan for condom and lube cozies for the older ladies. And there will be a resource list. Sexuality information and education are the primary goals of this probably non-profit.

Here are the rules:
*must have sexual inuendo
*must not be registered as a dot org (preferrably not dot com, either)
*not profane (because i like little old ladies)
*some texas or houston link

The winner receives a picture of my tits. Brainstorm: now!

comentators (like the tots)

2005-11-06T11:02:00.000-05:00

one of the (many) reasons i sabaticalled from this blog was not me, but you, dear readers. actually not the readers - the evil spammers with blogger accounts who suddenly brought about fifteen to thirty new spammy comments a day (often on old posts). this required administrative monitoring.

so now, as i am beginning to write in both places, i have re-enabled the comments (with all the blogger comment screening boggles). but keep in mind, this is a privilege that can be revoked at any times. please, evil spammers, don't ruin it for the rest of the crowd that enjoy a good conversation over sex techniques or whether i am too fat to ever have been a whore.

condom girl

2005-11-05T22:40:00.000-05:00

so i spent five years in new york hauling around bags with hundreds of condoms and giving them away for free (and setting off many a duane reade security alarm along the way).

the other night, i went out to a club (gasp!) in houston for a suspension (amazing!!!). while hanging out there, we were approached by a cigarette girl. see, many cigarette companies send hot chicks (and some boys) around to clubs and bars handing out free cigarettes or lighters (i don't smoke, but fire is fun) in exchange for adding you to their mailing list.

while perusing the durex website (which now offers a line of vibrators), i decided that condom companies need to take a cue from the cigarette execs. send out people to clubs to hand out your merchandise. and, unlike smoking which can kill you, it would be a positive political move as you would be saving lives.

now, i know that condoms have been passed out in clubs and other social settings for quite some time as an hiv intervention. but these handouts were done by non-profits who need funding for supplies and rely on volunteers to distribute. the cool thing about handing out condom samples as a corporate move is that it is marketing! therefore, big condom companies can use their marketing budgets to pay cute blue haired girls to distribute the merchandise.

this idea also applies to lube. if anyone has a hook-up, pass the word along. there is a new sexpert in houston and she wants to pass out your safer sex supplies. oh, yeah!

cat fight!

2005-11-05T21:39:00.000-05:00

jane: which bowl should i put the popcorn in?

dacia: use the one above the fridge.

jane: this is sticky!

dacia: this is my house. what do you expect?

jane: i have a dishwasher.

dacia: you live in houston!

jane: oh, yeah? at least i don't show the pink.

dacia: damn. you always win.

(the end)

ps damn right i have a dishwasher.

dishwasher
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

embracing the blues

2005-10-27T01:32:00.000-04:00

the blues
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

... and the new d's.

on crazy journeys and blue haired waitresses

2005-10-15T04:05:00.000-04:00

i hesitate to write about this past month with any finality. there have been several moments when i thought i was finally crawling out only to be hit again like the back wall of a hurricane's eye.

i have gone crazy. the farthest i have ever been before. i have been up and down, anxious and sedated, uncontrollably twitchy and slurred. i was forced to stop driving for almost four weeks (a feat in this gasoline-blooded city). i missed as many weeks of class. and had a complete identity crisis as well.

the cherry on this particular cake or sundae or sweet of your choosing came with the paste eight days of food poisoning induced (bacterial or viral?) infected vomiting, sleep, and bloody shite. but now, after an er visit, a horrible doctor's appointment, and finally just giving in to being completely, physically and mentally ill, i am awake and i can think for the first time in much too long.

one of the benefits of the last week's wretch(-ing) is that i had to stop all of my mind meds. my body's levels of hydration alone could have lead to unexpected and unpleasant side effects, so the psychiatrist suggested i stop them completely until i have held down food and liquids for 48 consecutive hours. surprisingly, i am much more cognizant. i never felt sedated on my last regime, where i had been balanced for almost two years. but maybe my chemicals changing had also changed the way i reacted. or maybe it was the solid week of sleep interrupted only by sandy licking my face because she needed to pee. having already told all of my professors that i did not know when i would be returning to classes certainly helped relieve anxiety.

additionally, i had a wonderful phone session with my new york therapist thirty six hours before the food poisoning hit, that ended with a twenty minute joint (three way) session with my mother on the phone extension and a great follow-up conversation with my father the next afternoon.

at this point, i have a plan.
i am dropping two of my three classes. keeping epidemiology, a surprising favorite that is easily followed online and has no group work. i will also be taking longer to graduate. how long? we'll see. right now, there is no time limit (aside from the school imposed six years). next spring i plan to enroll in two courses. do two online classes over the summer while attending a sexuality institute (in san francisco or amsterdam). then return for a full load next fall. at that time obtain an internship or position in the fields of old people or sex, preferably both.

after i have a semi-dependable level of sanity, i am going to get a waitressing job. best-case-scenario: house of pies. i have dreamed of working at house of pies since i was sixteen. it is the urban equivalent of a truck stop with 38 kinds of pie at any given hour. i highly recommend the bayou goo. honestly, i love waitressing. it is my favorite job that i have ever held (including whoring). i like regulars. i like kids that hang out for hours smoking, drinking coffee and splitting a single club sandwich with a bowl (not monkey dish, a whole bowl) of ranch for their fries, and the one skinny goth girl drinking dr pepper with cream on her boyfriend's lap, then tip five dollars on a ten dollar tab. i love regulars that order the same thing every time. i like being able to bring people the comfort of coffee and greasy food. add pie to the mix, and the set up becomes ideal.

i miss the support and identity of working. i never really had a support structure at school. why would i start to have one in grad school, when students are more alienated and competitive? i feel confident as a waitress. and it doesn't require me to uphold the role of the smart one. yes, i am intelligent. but sometimes, right now especially, my brain is caving in under the pressure. i need an escape that provides me with a second source of productivity and worth. so i will be the waitress.

more specifically, the blue haired waitress.

i saw the corpse bride. beautiful. i now must dye my long curly hair blue.

i know it won't last long. two to three weeks max. i know it will turn green. i know the bleach will fry my hair. but i know it will fill a whole in the picture of my self. i do not recognize the girl in the mirror. i need something i can point to so that i can regain the footing of my identity.

so i will bleach my hair. it will be blue. with turquoise highlights. when it begins to turn green i will either add more blue, or bleach it out and go bright red, later to be layered with darker reds, until it returns to the motley reds, bronzes, coppers, and crimsons it currently is. of course, i may decide to keep turquoise highlight. the turquoise was always my favorite wig.

in a matter of weeks, when i rack the mirror (both inside and out) for who i am, i will be able to answer in short hand: the blue haired waitress.

ps in light of the possible less than sexy course of the near future, i have set up a second blog for the more mundane, although no doubt hilarious hijink-filled, episodes of my life. those who fancy that sort of tale can wander over to bluehairedwaitress.blogspot.com. entries will most likely be sporadic for the next week or two as i regain my footing in life. but they are guaranteed to be more frequent than here.

rock me like a hurricane

2005-09-22T10:14:00.000-04:00

this weekend is a turning point.

my swings and anxiety and depression got so bad i found a psychiatrist down here (long before my existing meds ran out). i started a mood stabilizer (lamictal) two nights ago. it was designed for epilepsy but works for bipolar and chronic fatigue (which every medical person i have spoken with over the last few months has mentioned as a possibility. great). so i can't drive for at least a week while i adjust and can't drink for quite some time. which is fine.

driving has been getting very scary. after i saw the psychiatrist on tuesday i went to the grocery store for fixins for some fifty-two bean (hyperbole) veggie chili. half-way through the fancy HEB central market i started getting freaked out. i opened the oj and took half a xanax. left as quickly as i could. but it kept accelerating on the drive home. i took another half while at a red light. i was ten minutes from my apartment. it was terrifying. i was convinced i was going to get in an accident and kill someone. then i would be charged with involuntary manslaughter, plead (temporary?) insanity, and spend the rest of my life in a mental health institution. (i've been having a lot of dreams along this theme as well, usually involving panic leading to murder, leading to life in custody as an official crazy person).

i've been dealing with being officially bipolar. when i was younger i always thought i was bipolar. but after years of shrinks saying, "no, you're just clinically depressed" i got used to the diagnosis. then i finally had my panic attacks and freak outs explained by anxiety disorder. more meds, a new dimension to therapy, but still fairly common. i mean, there are all sorts of commercials for depression and anxiety meds. people have adjusted to those diagnoses. then psychiatrists started to mention bipolar. but they were all assholes who i didn't trust or respect who were freaked out by my sex life and didn't listen to me. plus years of conditioning as "depressed and anxious" did not leave room for an additional label.

but my last pyschiatrist put it in terms i could understand. he explained i was bipolar type II. this theory was backed up by not just my mood swings and family history (hoo-boy, now there's a doozy), but by my chemical sensitivity and reactions to drugs like zoloft and combined hormone contraceptives. he said we would try bipolar meds if the depression and anxiety cocktail stopped sustaining.

with this huge transition, it officially stopped sustaining. my depression grew louder and heavier. my panic attacks increased in frequency to the point i was taking a dose of xanax daily (sometimes twice). but then i began to feel better. as i searched for a new therapist and school picked up (whole 'nother drama there), i began to have these productive spurts where i felt like me again. i could finish the work and reading for the week, draft future assignments, design research projects, network and research internships and practica, and be an entertaining classmate and potential new friend. but then i would run in to a wall and crash. i couldn't understand (much less predict) these dropping off a cliff plummets of sanity.

my family also moved to town. i would drive out to visit them and play at the dog park and would swing to the point i couldn't drive home. i missed classes. i missed assignments. i couldn't unpack or think or read. my mom and dad and sister were very supportive. this time around i decided to stop being nice and courteous. i don't have the energy for courteous. when someone asks me how i feel or what i am thinking about, i answer honestly (or i don't answer at all if i don't want to bum them out). i don't have the stamina to lie politely to make someone else feel better. i can barely take care of myself (less and less, really).

so now, two days in to new meds on top of the old meds (my body is currently hosting lamictal, welbutrin, lexapro, and xanax), a hurricane is coming. my apartment in the city is under voluntary evacuation, but my folks' place out in katy is not. the roads or so clogged and gas so scarce we couldn't get out if we wanted to. so my sister drove me to my apartment yesterday to move things away from windows, in to closets, the bathroom, and under the bed. i packed a rubbermaid tub with books and correspondence material and clothes and grabbed sandy's food. i also hit hobby lobby after an inspiring issue of bust (this month's bust is the best i have read. every article made me happy or eager to try.)

this weekend, as catagory 4-5 rita whips my family's new home, i will braid my hair like frida kahlo, and sandy and i will huddle in a closet under the stairs making paper mache string lanterns and little god's eyes dreamcatching danglers for the new apartment. my body will internalize the new meds. i will rest.

and when the storm passes, the sky will be unbearably clear and the new beginning will surge forward out of the crumbled crisped pile of me.

nipples

2005-09-06T22:35:00.000-04:00

my dog bit off her nipples.

this was a few weeks ago when she was in super-itchy mode. intense benadryl, antihistamine/cortisone sprays, and oatmeal-baking-soda-anithistamine-cortisone super shampoo regime has helped greatly. her nips are beginning to heal if not grow back (it may just be the scar tissue but i'd like to think they resemble reconstructed nipples). this does not make her original actions any less disturbing.

she has a new friend at the dog park, a pitt bull i refer to as "nipples". "nipples" is well-endowed in the mammory area, with two neat rows of tootsie rolls along her tummy.

i like to think that sandy and nipples balance each other out. kinda yin yang of the doggy boobies.

i haven't been writing

2005-08-30T00:15:00.000-04:00

i haven’t been writing
i haven’t been reading
i haven’t been leaving the apartment except to take sandy for a squat or to the park
i haven’t been unpacking or hanging shelves or art or cooking the groceries i finally bought
i haven’t been answering the phone or returning calls or even checking messages
i haven’t been turning on my computer
i haven’t been able to finish anything i start, if i am able to start at all

but

i have found a new therapist. our second meeting is friday.
i have started school. my first class was tonight.
i am looking for volunteer opportunities like delivering food to homebound elderly folk.
i have met several new people, some wonderful, some psycho.

but

still i feel that all I do is sleep and play with sandy and watch animal planet, myth busters, and law & order reruns.
i’m in a bad place.

so i haven’t been writing

i’ll be back soon.

hiv positive het porn

2005-08-22T00:27:00.000-04:00

http://www.avn.com/articles/236349.html

awesome. except for the "we're usually condom-only but this time we don't have to be, only on the toys" part. i mean, yeah for condoms on toys but boo hiss for lovers who use condoms in their day-to-day life not using them on film. especially when she's currently undergoing hep c treatment. reinfection, anyone?

sandy texas

2005-08-09T01:28:00.000-04:00

sandy texas
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

as requested, some photos of the new dog.

shaggy happy floppy sandy

sandy texas
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

sandy does her impersonation of "blue dog"

sandy texas
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

my sandy is a centerfold. seriously. compare this expression to the over the glasses look. uncanny. she's got it.

this is after her haircut this morning. she's looking good.

sandy texas
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

bonus: snapped as i crossed the border

the rest stop had giant grasshoppers. i overheard a grandma quip to a young'un, "see, i told you everything is bigger in texas."

naughty bits

2005-08-07T01:27:00.000-04:00

here's some highlights from my newest dirty story for rkb's newest erotica anthology First-Timers: True Stories of Lesbian Sex. it's about my first time with a transman (ftm) and is titled "wear me home" (from the second juicy selection). enjoy!

****

He unbuttoned my dress with one hand, the other holding my wrists behind my back. While kissing my collar bone he gripped my collar in his teeth and pulled it off my left shoulder. He mirrored the action on the right. I stepped out of my dress. I stood in my black bra and panties (simple, yet sexy) and $12 Payless pumps. He stepped back and sat on the bed, his eyes devouring me.

“You are such a… woman,” the word circling my birthing hips and soft stomach, caressing my breasts, tangling in my long hair, and kissing my full lips.

I slowly walked over to him. Astride his lap, back arched, I unbuttoned his shirt. I traced his red welted top-surgery scars with my nails and then my mouth. I pushed him on to his back, holding my body above his thighs, pulling off his belt and opening his pants, while staring in his eyes, daring him to look down.

I reached against his white cotton briefs, not sure what I would find. I felt a small bulge. I smiled at him, “May I?”

“Please,” he moaned.

****

He hit my g-spot with precision. My orgasm grew with a heavy sensation, like I was going to pee or explode. I imagined my goo flung about the room, coating Jack’s face and luggage. I saw him trying to explain the mess, first to the hotel staff and then the luggage inspector at the airport. I would stain him. He would wear me home.

****

now you want buy the book, right?!?! excellent (drums fingers together a la mr. burns)

adapting and adopting

2005-07-31T18:53:00.000-04:00

so i set up a myspace account for jane in hopes of making some houston friends. i have resisted the lure of myspace for years after growing sick of friendster and adult friend finder. chances are myspace isn't going to last very long either.

but amongst the "was up cuties" and random friend requests from bands and other folks i don't know who don't message me first, i met a girl. a cool girl who is from brooklyn and actually friends with my friend and neighbor (not to be confused with "Your Friends and Neighbors", the ultimate first date flick - "so, what character do you relate to?*" *props to dacia). she works at a coffee shop near my house and next door to my bank. after a couple of emails we exchanged numbers, phone conversations, and i stopped by her work on thursday.

now, i am sitting outside the cafe (using the wireless here because my internet "is not broken" according to the repair guy but won't work again an hour after he leaves and he screwed the cables so tight i can't unscrew them to reset it for twenty minutes like i had been doing) with sandy, drinking iced coffee, and waiting for girl to get off work. i'm taking her out to dinner and a movie. hoping to see happy endings (maggie gylenhall and a sex worker reference in the title equal quality film). don't know whether the date will have a happy ending. right now my apartment is an air mattress, a couple of chairs, and floating tumbleweeds of dog hair (not exactly romantic).

i'm working on my piece for rachel kramer bussel's upcoming anthology of lesbian firsts. this time i can put up snippets on my blog so you will all be able to enjoy some appetizers prior to purchasing the book (unlike russel kick's "everything you know about sex is wrong" out this fall). in addition to my story of my tryst with a transman at a sex conference a fall or two ago. hot hot stuff.

for the unobservant reader who didn't pick up on the hints, sandy and i are now a happy family. two shaggy bitches with hard core allergies under one roof, it's a sitcom in the making. i took her to get her hair cut on friday, but she hadn't had her kennel cough vaccine so we have to hold off for a week. we went to central houston animal hospital on saturday morning for a check-up and some vaccines and found out she has severe allergies. Turns out dogs don't get hay fever, instead they itch. and sandy is one itchy girl. so we have colloidal oatmeal shampoo and flea and tick preventative, and a spray with antihistamine and steroids to be used on itchy areas (to prevent bacterial infection and open wounds from gnawing) and she has to take 50mg (two pills) of benadryl twice a day! That's more antihistamine than i take! Oh and she loves pills. She's already skittish about eating in front of people and refuses to try cheese wrapped around pills or bread balled around pills. although a left-over chicken enchilada worked this morning, we've had a few headlock moments where i pop the pills down her throat (no fun for either of us).

Sandy is an interesting pooch. she has taken to me and now growls at anyone who approaches. this is the girl that only barked once at a peacock at the shelter. she is terrified of lightning, trucks, buses, airplanes, and my electric toothbrush (although she doesn't mind the whirl of my vibrator). she is particularly wary of men but loves cats (although they tag her on the nose more often than cuddle against her.

yesterday we went out to a friend's farm in brookshire. she got to run around and play with three teenage boys and three twenty-somethings and two adults (as well as a little lhaso with issues and two bitchy cats). she walked around their swiming pool once before leaning over and jumping in (before anyone else was in the pool). We played with her kong on a rope toy both in and out of the water (it floats!). then she snuck chicken pieces from my friend's father who was manning the grill. we discovered she knows hot to sit and shake.

i'm a proud mamma who's leaving her baby alone for the first time tonight. sorry for the gush. there may be sex to report on the morrow.

deep in the heart

2005-07-28T14:04:00.000-04:00

so i'm here.

um, it has been interesting. i got out of new york and drove a high school friend to philidelphia on the way to ohio. while stopped a gas station in jersey (damn full service) she picks up my gas card i had set in the cup holder.

"wow, jane. member since '79? that's older than we are!" she promptly sets the card back down next to the parking brake where it promptly slid through the slot into my center consul.

in ohio norm got her 12,000 mile check up. she was only at 10,500 but is a precocious girl who would break 12,000 by the end of the weekend. it took my mother until five to finish prepping the house (which is on the market as they are moving to houston in three weeks, surprise!).

we tried to stop around eleven but all the hotels were booked due to a corvette convention in knoxville. so my father made us a reservation and we were able to sleep a little after one.

the next morning we brought my youngest sister a sonic cheeseburger and tator tots for breakfast (she is spending the summer at an engineering program at vanderbilt). then we had lunch with an aunt in birmingham. one of my cousins performed an interpretive dance (actually quite good). then her younger brother tried and promptly slipped on the carpet rug-burning his nose and forehead. we had to leave when he was still whimpering.

mom and i had planned on dinner at drusilla's in baton rouge but an accident outside the city and wicked traffic forced us to order ninfa's take-out (fajitas and chips and queso aren't something to complain about). we had zydeco brunch the next morning at mulatte's outside of breaux bridge.

we pulled in to my new apartment in the late afternoon. unloaded the car including jude the jade plant, my momma's big baby that had gotten a little sunburned in louisiana forcing a paper towel wrap which further blocked our rear view vision. then we hit walmart for some necessities. we got back home approximately eight hours before the movers were scheduled to arrive.

but they didn't.

turns out there was some confusion about when my stuff was supposed to ship and i thought it would arrive this monday but they can't ship until my personal check clears so the earliest i can expect it is next monday!?!?!?!? argh.

so i have no stuff. but mom and i hit antique stores on westheimer (i bought an awesome blanket chest) and ikea for some more shelving units and chairs (i left all the chairs found on the street in new york). i had anticipated an apartment full of stuff and no chairs (and no bed until my folks move down and i get my great-grandmother's wrought iron number, very high with lots of bars and nooks for grabbing and tying and such). instead i have an apartment of seating possibilities and nothing else.

my mother started house hunting on tuesday which left me alone in the new apartment. my internet was installed in the morning (and promptly broke the next morning so a guy is coming out to fix it on saturday) but after that my day was free.

i felt so alone. and kinda bummed. like i couldn't start my new life yet because i was still waiting for this big shipment but there is nothing i can do to expedite that process except wait. so tuesday i bonded with the space aka slept.

wednesday i was committed to not being so bummed. so i decided to go meet some dogs. i drove down to the humane society and fell in love.

sandy, my one true love, can be seen here http://www.petfinder.com/pet.cgi?action=2&pet=4346232&adTarget=&SessionID=42dc29034916729f-app4&display=&preview=1&row=150&tmpl=&stat=

i spoke in spanish with a worker who showed me around the dogs. i recognized sandy from petfinder.com. so we hung out in a "getting to know you" bin. at first she walked around the perimeter, ignoring me, marking her territory, and sneaking sly glances out of the corner of her eye. then she came up behind me and started digging in the pebbles under the plastic bench i was sitting on. i gave her a gentle scritch on the tush. she came around and looked at me. i let her smell my hand and scratched her ears. then she jumped her front paws on to the seat beside me an lay her head against my thigh.

we're in love.

she's been at the shelter since december, living in a half-in/half-out unairconditioned and unheated pen. they have a big fan at the end of the row, but it's hot in there. and they don't groom the dogs there or brush them. she is one shaggy dog. but she loves to play in the water and with the garden hose so she's pretty clean. she's just in high-shed mode right now (not a lot considering her breed, but a little more than i had wanted). after i get her groomed and we start evening brush/cuddle time the shedding should cut down dramatically.

so i filled out my application. they woman in charge of adoptions will review it today. if i am approved (after talking to my landlord and references), sandy will be microchipped (she's already spayed) and then i can pick her up. she may have to hang out on my back balcony (which is shaded) while the movers bring my crap, but we need each other.

as dacia im'd "nothing says i have a life like a dog".

this is really happening

2005-07-20T05:09:00.000-04:00

the movers will be here in less than four hours.

my life has been divided into car, movers, and left behind (further divided to friends, goodwill, and trash).

i had my last session with my therapist, said my goodbyes, drove by the four places i have lived in nyc (including the rubble of kate millet's former loft on bowery and houston), hung out with roommate, cleared my holds and picked up my diploma (and promptly left it at the counter of dunkin donuts).

the city is driving me out to the land of central air. sweat has not stopped pouring from my body all day. every time i pee i take a quick cold shower. the drips from my hair are salty again within five minutes. i have heat rash from the back of my knees to my ass and i can't remember where i packed the baby powder.

i threw out my old socks and underwear. i'll buy new panties on the road and i won't need socks for a few more months in houston. i have thrown out and given away most of my shoes (dacia got the best pairs) so that the few pairs remaining fit in a single suitcase.

the sun is coming up. i need to close my eyes if i want to open them in time for the movers. i'm nauseous and dizzy with adrenalin and heat.

and here i go.

off again

2005-07-04T02:50:00.000-04:00

in an hour i will drive to the airport. when i get back in town i will have three full days before the movers arrive. my apartment isn't as backed as it could be, but i've thrown out a lot. i have said a good chunk of good byes. those who see me when i get back will be lucky because that week is going to be super hectic and up in the air. i hope i will make it to bluestockings books (http://www.bluestockings.com/) to see greta christina. i also want to swing by dube (http://www.dube.com/) to pick up some wicks for fire breathing (want to branch out from the poi spinning). i also just ordered two unsharpened swords to begin practicing sword swallowing. i figure with all the deep-throat practice i've had, its worth a shot to turn it into an art.

i will do my best to check in over the next two weeks. if i don't have the chance, know that you are all in my heart. take care.
jane

on the town

2005-07-03T05:00:00.000-04:00

after a day of napping and packing and jerking off, i went out to meet my dear friend paco. i left the house after eleven pm. usually i'm stripping down and starting a movie at that hour but this time i was putting on clothes and heading for the train.

i met paco at a mixed gay bar in williamsburg. the goal was dancing to 80s music. we got it half right. an awesome dj but those damn cabaret laws forbid us from boogie-ing. so we did the sitting down shoulder bop with fists swinging tight to the chest.

this was supposed to be my last night of drinking in new york. so i tried a blue hawaiian (yummy), a red bull and vodka (meh), and a long island with peach schnapps (the first drink i ever got drunk on outside of my parents liquor cabinet).

after we were warm and fuzzy we strolled down the block to a diner for grilled cheese sandwiches with tomatos and pickles, home fries, and a banana split. turns out our server was a friend of mine from my washington square park days.

refueled we headed into manhattan to hit fantasy world. Fantasy world is on the corner of 11th st and 7th ave and is open 24 hours. plus they have an amazing selection and are super sex positive (not skeezy). i was excited to find they are now marketing themselves as "new york's female friendly superstore". i strongly recommend them to friends of both genders.

i had a $20 gift certificate from christmas to spend. i debated between the various vibes and toys but fell in love when i found a lime green tantus swirl buttplug (http://www.blowfish.com/catalog/toys/silicone_butt_plugs.html#t-tnt-1757).

but the big surprise came when we discovered they were have a porn sale. i do not own nearly enough porn. i jack off to many non-porn films as well as music or just the lovely hum of my vibrators but sometimes you want the hardcore visuals. the sale was specifically on gay porn. buy one at half price get a second vhs free. after much debate, swapping of potentials, and eventually sitting on the floor to sort through to the back of the racks, i settled on four films.

the first two are loosely plot driven:
*sextortion
*the bite 2 (chi chi larue!)

the second pair is compilations:
*when bottoms go wild
*anal hall of fame

what can i say? i do like the butt sex. especially watching good butt sex that all partners are enjoying. however, i also enjoy the extreme.

lately, i've developed a little obsession with brutaldildos.com. in particular, this sample of "kream" (bad bad porn name) fucking herself up the ass to the point that she prolapses when she comes, but it is a "healthy" prolapse (if there is such a thing). the tissue puffs out and you can see her ass contracting with orgasms and then it all gets sucked right back in, right as rain. http://www.brutaldildos.com/images/kream2/kream2samp.mpg i have never asked for gifts via my blog before, but if some fairy godperson wanted to get me a one-month membership to the site so i can gorge myself on this imagery to the point that i would never need to see it again, feel free to email me my new id and password. i'll happily share my favorite scenes with you.

back to this evening. after stocking up on the porn and cute new buttplug, we hit a deli where i bought some fresh oj and a bag of gummi bears. then paco walked me to the train. we plan on going to gay karaoke the week that i move, but in case that doesn't work out we hugged like no tomorrow. on the train i admired the hot lesbians that got on at union square, avoided the advances of the guy sitting across from me, and realized that these particular gummy bears have very well defined muzzles - to the point that when pinching the ears up and back they look more like a donkey than a bear.

so the sun is up and now i will sleep. but not without masturbating to my new mountain of gay porn.

dealing

2005-07-02T01:39:00.000-04:00

so i put dacia on a plane a few hours ago. we will not see each other until she comes to visit me in texas on her winter break. crying and driving is not a good mix so i called my aunt and listened to her talk about her day. then picked up some movies and mint milanos (the perfect cookie). now i'm trying not to think.

the first movie i watched was "the hazing". i love me some b-movie horror flicks. this one was about a frat and sorority doing joint hazing in a haunted house while a satanic professor's spirit tries to kill them and release the spirits of hell. classy, light, and full of boobies.

but the second film has been a surprise. i rented "d.e.b.s" this comic-based movie is about a team of college chicks in training as spies for the government. skimpy skirts, big guns, and devon aoki (super hot mijo from "sin city") were promising. but i was surprised to find a lesbian subplot. one of the debs falls in love with the villian. and it's not a campy affair to stimulate the boy parts in the audience. the emotions reflect the affair of megan and grahm in "but i'm a cheerleader". throw in the other surprise of jimmi simpson (who fueled the test drive of my new blueberry vibrator) and you have a happy jane.

well, not happy. but at least i'm not sobbing.

the first time

2005-06-28T00:44:00.000-04:00

The pictures for the last post were taken when driving down highway 6 i realized i couldn't remember in which motel i'd first done the deed (i think there's supposed to be a comma in there somewhere. forgive me). Eventually, a process of elimination - two stories; actually on the highway, not the off-ramp - narrowed it down. But the kicker was a high school friend mentioning the jacuzzis at the comfort inn. I had forgotten about that!

So the answer is a) comfort inn, on July 11th, 2000. Congratulations, nadia.

In order to talk about when it happened, we need to start with when it didn't happen.

At 14, with my 19 year old boyfriend at the 80's dance because my dad parked outside the dance thus preventing a visit to my date's van.
Again at 14, the evening before moving away from michigan, with my soulmate because his dad made him go to work at the grocery store thus thwarting our afternoon-at-a-mutual friend's plan. We ended up seeing a movie during which he went down on me (a first for me) and got me back to the hotel (because my family was already out of our house) way past curfew. I caressed the fading hickeys he left on my belly for weeks but they didn't make up for what I felt was derailed destiny.
At 15, when my christian boyfriend found jesus for the third time that year thus preventing all sex before marraige.
At 16, on the golf course, because the boy forgot a condom. I started to give him a blowjob but was so frustrated over the no condom=no sex thing that I quit halfway and left which he likened to a criminal offense.
At 17, with my old soulmate, in the back of his car with a box of condoms, shirts off, pulling at pants, and the cops drive up. Killed the mood, to say the least.

At this point I felt like my virginity was a curse. It was never going to "just happen" with someone I was (at least momentarily) in love with. So i took matters into my own hands.

At 18, I found a guy that was reputed to put out (he was a playa' or whatever the equivalent of a boy slut). We met with a group at a hookah bar about a week before graduation. He would come in to IHOP and drink coffee until I got off work. We'd drive around black country roads with the windows down and led zepplin blaring. He would make awkward attempts at compliments and gave me a pink floyd t-shirt for my birthday. He would do.

An integral part of this decision was the fact that he was going in to the services. The coast guard. Reserves. (this was before the current war torn state, so it really was a joke). I was leaving on a ten day trip to Europe with my parents on the 17th. By the time I returned, he would be at boot camp. He would not get out of camp until I had already left for college in new york. So, theoretically, I wouldn't have to worry about a relationship or any of that icky dumping-the-guy stuff.

So the evening before his coast guard physical, he picked me up from a particularly long shift at ihop. We got a room at the comfort inn. I was convinced everyone knew what we were doing. The only room available was a suite. This meant we got a bottle of cheap champagne and two plastic dixie cups and one of the regionally legendary jacuzzis.

He popped the champagne and drew me a bath. We sat across from each other in the jacuzzi, full of conditioning-shampoo bubbles, and he gave me a foot rub (waitresses of the world sigh in ecstasy). At this point I was ready to just go to sleep.

So we got out of the tub and toweled off. I then walked to the bed with my towel slung over the shower rod. He modestly tucked his towel around his waist and made some comment about me being "wild" and "bold". Um, I walked ten feet in the buff. Really wild, there.

He turned on the tv to some war movie set in asia so there was karate, ninjas, and guns. We started making out. I went down on him. At the last minute I pulled up, bit his nipple, and asked him to get a condom.

"What? Oh, man, I don't have any. I didn't want to make any assumptions." Hello! We are going to a hotel together. Translation: we will be having sex. You are the boy. The boy gets the condoms. (Thankfully, I am now liberated enough to carry around a dozen or so condoms for all my friends at any given time. And condoms do not assume anything. They are a responsible persons way of preparing for the future, which could possibly include sex or the need for waterballoons). I rolled over and huffed.

"In that case, I'm going to sleep." I said and closed my eyes. He spooned against me. After a few minutes he began kissing my neck. And then we were making out. And mutually jacking the other off. And he pulled up. "I'll pull out," he whispered as he pushed his way inside me. So romantic.

There was no pain. There wasn't much of anything. There was the excitement of "this is it. i'm doing it. i'm no longer a virgin." but there was also the "this is it? aren't i supposed to have an orgasm or at least feel something." The sex was missionary position and he withdrew to come in his hand. Then he scurried to the bathroom.

After I peed we curled up to sleep. He feel asleep fast and I lay there, staring at the ceiling. He woke up occasionally and I eventually dozed. We had sex two more times before his alarm went off. He had to be downtown at the recruitment center at 5:30.

After he left, I was able to sleep for a few hours. Then I woke up and sat down in the corner of the shower, trying to determine if I had changed. I gathered my things and drove to the house of the friend i had "spent the night with". Her family left their doors unlocked, so I let myself in and went upstairs to her tiny not-quite-a-twin bed. She wasn't home. I crawled under the covers and slept until she joined me after ten.

I eventually went home because I had a dental appointment, after which I slept for the remainder of the afternoon. I rented stealing beauty but the tracking was off. So i listened to the beautiful soundtrack while beginning a new journal in the light of the static. I write a letter to the unborn child I know I'm now carrying and make a condensed life plan for the next ten years until the HIV turns to AIDS. This sounds like a joke, but I was dead serious.

Led Zepplin's Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You became my soundtrack. I had it on repeat and even made a tape with an entire side of just that song. I had already left him, in my mind.

He picked me up from work one more time that week, taking me over to his house, his parents out for the evening. We watched stigmata and alice in wonderland until i turned to him and said, "i have to be home in forty minutes. do you want to do it or not?" This time he had condoms but i still didn't feel anything. After he comes and rolls off me, he sighs, "You're a difficult person to fall in love with." We kissed goodbye and I left for Europe, convinced I would never have to see him again.

About a week after I get home from Europe, he calls. "Can I come over? I need to talk to you."
He shows up and we sit on lawn furniture in the back yard. "I've had a change of plans. Instead of going in to the reserves, I'm joining the coast guard. And when I get out of boot camp, I'm going to be stationed in... New York!"

"What?!?" He seemed shocked by my obvious lack of delight. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Well, I kind of figured I would have some friends there and then we could..."

"I'm sorry, K---, but there is no we. I'm going to college. I have no desire for a relationship right now. I'm sorry if you didn't understand this. Good luck with your plans, but don't make plans for me."

He took it in, then slowly stood to go. "I guess this is goodbye?"

"Goodbye." I hugged him and lightly kissed him.

Classy but true.

memory multiple choice

2005-06-23T01:26:00.000-04:00

It's a game!

Guess in which classy highway six establishment jane lost her virginity. (hint: old entries may or may not be accurate as these pics were originally taken so that i could deduce what had been the actual scene of the crime.)

The choices are:

virginity
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

a) comfort inn

virginity
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

super 8

virginity
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

c) motel 6

We'll give the game 24 hours or so and then i will post the tale, along with my plot for born again virginity.

birthday curse

2005-06-22T20:32:00.000-04:00

so i shouldn't be too concerned with a curse, since it has only been two birthdays. and (at least for the second) not even the entire birthday but rather the beginning. but i feel like there is a curse on my new york birthdays. in the last five years, i've only had two birthdays in new york. the others were spent living with my parents between freshman and sophomore year and at sex conferences for my 20th and 22nd birthdays. but 21 and 23 were doozies.

at 21, my date to my birthday orgy decided to pull me into the other room (at full orgy swing) to tell me he'd come to realize he needed to be in a relationship with someone for a matter of months before he could have sex with them. we met on craigslist, for pete's sake. in casual encounters. he responded to my ad seeking new experiences with the suggestion of golden showers. although i never peed on the boy we had taken several physical showers together and shared a great deal of oral and digital stimulation, but apparently this wasn't sex. it was not so much that i disrespected his feelings but rather his timing, in a word, sucked. by the time he was done talking, we went back to my room to find everyone zipping up. then everyone left except him. he stayed! and slept in my bed beside me. i don't sleep with people!!! (okay, maybe rkb and dacia and one or two other lucky critters, but as a general rule post-sex moments are best spent alone.) so i started having major anxiety and had to drug myself up on xanax as he left in the morning so that i could stop shaking and ended up sleeping through my entire 21st birthday. i woke up at 2am the next day. i had messages of birthday songs from my family, but no one i could call that late. so i cried.

this year was not nearly so traumatic, but it still sucked and it still made me cry. the day before my birthday was spent on delayed flights, the last of which circled for so long we had to land in baltimore to refuel. when i finally arrived at almost midnight (as opposed to 8), i picked up dacia and food and headed back to my place. to sleep? oh, no. to clean! that morning my land lord had called to say she wanted to show the apartment that week (the week of our lesbian fieldtrip). it hadn't been touched since the morning after the party when garbage and moldables were thrown out. i had been out of town since the 36 hours after my graduation.

so, even though it is now almost 2am, dacia and i begin to giggle with thoughts of our houseboy. we laugh louder when the thoughts shift from him cleaning my place in pretty panties again to a shared slobberly blowjob (mmmm.... cock). we decide to call the houseboy in the morning. so i put his number in to my new phone (sorry to the world of people i have yet to call with the new number, i need to pause to catch my breath before i can start talking to the world again). only i don't have the controls down yet and instead of saving the number the phone is now ringing. at 2am. on a monday night.

a piece of late night (possibly drunk) dialing ettiquette. if you begin a call well past normal hours of existence and the phone has already rang, you must stay on the line to leave a message or respond to the groggy "what the fuck?s" with an apology. plus, you might get lucky.

the houseboy answered the phone. he was just leaving a bar in the east village. he couldn't come over in the morning but he could head over now. um, okay. that sounded great to my sleep-deprived cleaning-phobic exhausted sweaty mind.

"wait, he's coming over now?" dacia asked.

"yep."

"so no crashing in front of a movie naked, now?"

"nope."

"well, it is kind of hot, having a houseboy at our beck and call, even at 2:30 on a Monday night."

"yep."

so dacia did some laptop work and eventually crashed naked without me, as i began cleaning the apartment. an hour passed and houseboy still had not arrived. i called and he said he was two blocks away. so i put on a slip and sat on the porch steps (significantly cooler than my sweltering apartment) black thong in hand (as he was without panties at the bar). after about ten minutes, i called him again. he had taken a very wrong turn.

so i got in the car and drove to pick him up. i do get a thrill out of approaching corners with a window rolled down to pick someone up (it makes me happy in my pants). as he got in the car i said, "your panties are on your seat."

we were dismayed to find a complete lack of parking in my neighborhood. there weren't even spots on the side of the street that would need to be moved in five hours anyway. but the fire hydrant in front of my house had an extra half a space to either side. generally in my neighborhood, as long as the other side makes up for minor infringement, you can park a little bit closer to the hydrant than you should. plus i would be moving it in five hours anyways, because it was still on the wrong side of the street. add that i was hot, tired, and a little cranky, and you get an illegally parked car. "are you panties in your pocket?" I asked as we left the car.

"yes, mam" he replied.

i took him upstairs and said, "look, i can be the sexy dommey jane and we can clean and play or i can be the exhausted hot and sweaty jane that wants to take a shower and go to bed." he said the second option sounded grand, giving me a big hug which i used as an opportunity to begin removing his shirt.

brief interlude for mutual shower and soapy boobs. soapy boobs are the best texture ever. except maybe a freshly buzzed head. maybe their tied. but yeah for soapy boobs!

when then dragged a sleeping bag up to the roof and passed out (this was necessary as a sleeping dacia was indelicately sprawled across the bed, plus it was much too hot anywhere in side.) we cuddled a little but i pushed away because of the repulsion to all things hot, including bodies. and we passed out talking back and forth, like a slumber party. when the sun rose around 5:30 i peeked over the roof top to check on my car (no ticket, tralala), went downstairs to pee, and passed out for another hour and a half.

it happened when i woke up at seven.

i looked over the rooftop edge, and norm, my dear precious car, was gone. only a white drag mark on the pavement testified to her kidnapping by the man. bonus: my cell phone was in the cup holder from picking up the houseboy. double bonus: so was my credit card from pulling norm from airport parking the evening before. dacia and i were supposed to leave that morning for our lesbian field trip so all the camping gear was in back. plus, her car had failed inspection and was in the shop so we no longer had any ride.

with the help of dacia and the akward helpless glances of the houseboy, i tracked down the car, the location, the hours, the fee, and yes, i could go into my car to get my credit card to get it out of hock. then i left, without a phone bc i needed some way to reach dacia in case of an emergency, and walked to the gypsy cab stand.

when i got to the pound the folks who worked there were very pleasant. granted, it wasn't even eight o'clock so maybe they were faking it, but they seemed compassionate. the lady behind the desk even grimaced when she told me i couldn't pay the fine with my entrapped credit card because i was not the primary name on the registration. i would need to pay cash.

so i walked two avenue blocks uphill under the bqe on a path paved with dirt and broken glass (and not even the safety kind, i'm talking shards) and seven blocks over through an industrial neighborhood, yawning the entire way. a smart ass amongst the horn blowers and hecklers asks if i need a cup of coffee.

"i need two hundred bucks," i snap, then smile provocatively as i realize that, hey, i would blow him to avoid walking any further in this heat and murk and cheap summer shoes. he just shakes his head so i continue on my way to the nearest atm, which happens to be in a bank.

it also happens to be that the bank doesn't open until nine and as the atm is inside the bank, it doesn't open until nine, either, the manager so kindly informs me. so i kill time eating a pastry and sipping a soda in the pizzeria across the street.

finally, the bank opens, i get the cash, and i walk back looking all the sidewalk loiterers in the eye and greeting them before they have a chance at a second round of snide comments. i pay the fine and am handed a slip to give to the security escort to retrieve my car.

as she walks me towards norm, i am too overwhelmed at the fact that i'm getting her back to look around. i chirp the keys and thank the guard. as i slip behind the wheel i turn on the ac and some music. i glance around. credit card, check. cell phone, check.

houseboy's slinky black thong: check.

splayed on the passenger seat like a four year old with no shame.

i shove them in my purse and begin to laugh/cry for a moment. then compose myself and drive home, stopping for gas, a cooler, a tarp, and an oil change on the way. dacia, sweet beautiful dacia, has cleaned the apartment so all i have to do is jump in the cold shower to maintain some reasonable body temperature while she loads the cooler, throw camping clothes in a bag, and drive away.

off, on our lesbian field trip, en route to camping and whales and lobster, we leave the neighborhood before noon.

tonight, tonight

2005-06-22T00:01:00.000-04:00

went so incredibly well. i enunciated and paced myself and they laughed! the audience especially enjoyed my demonstration of the "shoe horn" dildo insertion technique (three fingers in curving towards g-spot, slide dong along palm into place while removing hand). and the folks got a taste of my "baby dyke learns to score" piece for russ kick's upcoming anthology (bc i'm going to be published, plug plug plug) everything you know about sex is wrong.

i am also completely in love with joe jervis of joemygod.com and hanne blank of misia.livejournal.com (and a number of super cool books). my honorable mention goes to dan fishback of danfishback.com and the band cheese on bread (cheeseonbread.com). everyone there was super amazing. i was completely honored to be considered anywhere near their league. go to wysiwigtalentshow.org for the complete lineup and links.

and now, the best sentence i have ever written:

"craigslist had been my source for casual dick and a new coffee table."

now that i will actually be in my apartment for 48 hours without guests (something i haven't enjoyed since pre-iud may 21st), the blogging will commence.

in the flesh

2005-06-21T02:45:00.000-04:00

you should see the pretty graphic for the wysiwig show this tuesday where i will be reading.

that's right, a chance to meet jane in the flesh, and listen to her tell you a dirty story full of girl-on-girl action. you can go to the wysiwig website at http://www.wysiwygtalentshow.org/ for more info. apparently the ticket master tickets may be sold out, but ps 122 holds a few extras, so call them up for the hook up.

if you absolutely can not come tuesday night, but are in the general nyc area, you get a second chance to meet jane at the mermaid parade at coney island on saturday. i will be selling things, probably shirts but possibly my ass. i will need help applying sunscreen to my tattoos. spf 30 or 45, please, oil free. dacia is planning on being there, too (as if you needed the extra motivation).

quickie

2005-06-12T13:05:00.000-04:00

i have an apartment in houston!

and i have a texas cell phone. this means they disconnected my new york line (bitches) so folks who would be calling me, i will ring you monday evening with the new number.

love you all. excited and a little creeped out and frozen in the ac.
jane

meet jane

2005-06-09T02:19:00.000-04:00

over the glasses
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

finally, the face shot you've all been begging for.

Jane Vincent, BS

2005-06-09T02:14:00.000-04:00

rose garden for my toes
Originally uploaded by the_educated_slut.

I did it. I have two little letters after my name. And I'm smart enough to change into comfy shoes after crossing the stage.

I'm also smart enough to finally figure out flickr. rock.

Flickr

2005-06-09T01:59:00.000-04:00

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

feel your balls

2005-06-08T00:59:00.000-04:00

check this out http://www.rachelgetsfruity.com/flash.html

almost as good as tom green.

thanks zombie (www.livejournal.com/users/zombienought).

avoiding drama

2005-06-06T17:08:00.000-04:00

i'm just trying to get through the next 24 hours and graduate at this point. major family drama, unfortunately.

but the party was wonderful. i had no idea i had so many wonderful people in my life. i will write more on that later, but until then, read dacia's account of the after party http://www.wakingvixen.com/

the naked man in my bathroom (the whole story)

2005-06-03T13:58:00.000-04:00

Okay, he’s not completely naked. He’s wearing a purple velvet thong. And he’s scrubbing my bathtub.

I’ve never claimed to be a neat person. Before I was grounded for breaking curfew and kissing older boys, I was grounded for my messy room. Not much has changed. Except now, instead of a messy room, I have a messy apartment. While it is okay for living, it is not appropriate for hosting a party.

So what does a resourceful girl do? Why, turn to craigslist, of course. Yesterday, Dacia and I posted for a houseboy.

Houseboy desired for Thursday evening

My roommate and I are hosting a party this weekend and have become overwhelmed. We are looking for a houseboy to clean our bathroom this Thursday evening.

This will primarily involve scrubbing the sink, bathtub, and toilet, as well as cleaning the floors. You are welcome to sweep and mop the kitchen as well, if you so desire.

We would love for you to clean in an apron, panties, or the nude, but this is not necessary.

We are 25 and (turning) 23 (it’s my birthday party) respectively. One has dark hair, one has red, both have glasses. We’re students and all around busy girls.

No physical contact and no monetary reimbursement. We’re in Ridgewood, Queens off of the L and M trains.

Hope to see you soon.

We received a glut of responses. There were quite a few “why would someone do that for free?” and “what do I get out of it?”, a couple dozen “I’m interested. Call me. Now.” and about a dozen sincere inquiries.

Dacia and I were very excited about an enthused panty fetishist who was especially fond of the nude male clothed female power dynamic. However, when he did not immediately respond, we booked another houseboy. Who confirmed and followed-up with phone calls. But did not show.

So, at nine o’clock, we called our original choice.

“Hello.”

“Steve?”
“Yes.”

“This is Jane. Are you busy?”

“No. What’s up?”

“Well, we are very disappointed. Our houseboy for the evening has not arrived. Would you be available?”

“Yes, mam.”

I put down the phone. “Damn, you were rocking the sexy voice,” Dacia exclaimed from her corner of the couch.

“I try.”

He called when he got off the train. We were waiting on the porch steps as he walked up, backpack slung over one shoulder, scrunching down to read the numbers on the apartment.

“Steve?”

“Hi” he smiles.

“I’m Jane.”

“I’m Dacia”

“Thank you so much for coming.”
”Thanks for having me”

We led him inside and up the stairs to my apartment. We showed him the newly arranged kitchen. I took him to the bathroom. “The main things are the floor and the tub. I dyed my hair today, just for you. Do you think you can handle it?”

“I can handle it.”

Dacia and I sat down on the couch and Steve stood in front of us.

“Show us your panties.” He removed a plastic grocery bag from his backpack. Inside were a dozen pairs, mostly thongs. There were pink lacy Victoria secrets and white cotton banana republics as well as exciting finds from Conway and the dollar store. Dacia and I picked out five pairs we liked. A black silk string bikini cut, with full ass coverage to start with. Followed by a sheer red lace thong. A purple velvet thong. I sheer leopard print number with gold sparkles. And a teeny tiny baby blue number that was nothing more than a thin triangle of blue and three strings joined by a small silver hoop the size of a dime.

“Feel how soft this one is,” I said to Dacia.

“Ooohhhh… Put this one on.”

He looked at us, fully clothed, hands to his side. “Well?” he asked.

“Oh. Take off your clothes.” He began with his shirt revealing a well muscled but not over-buff physique (“I don’t like men with too many muscles.” “I didn’t make him for you!”).

“Now the pants.” He dropped trou. He was wearing grey cotton boxer briefs, embracing an exciting (and excited) bulge.

“I’m not wearing panties because what if I got in to an accident or something? My mother would freak.” I love a houseboy with a great sense of humor.

“Okay. And the boxers, please.”

“What about the socks?”

“Well, are you a duchess?”

“What?”

“Some people prefer to leave their socks on. But obviously not you. Please take off your socks.”

“Feet are good,” says Dacia. “Now show us your cock.”

He blushes as he slides his boxers down, stepping out with one foot, flipping them up to his hand with the other, a maneuver that becomes a trademark of the evening. He rubs his semi-stiff cock with one hand. His freshly shaven balls dangle. Dacia hands him the silky black panties.

“Put these on.”

He slides into them. Tucking his cock inside, attempting to negotiate his balls.

“Now, turn around.” He has such a cute ass. “Okay, face us. Just stand there and let us look at you.” I curl my knees up on to the couch and hold my chin. “You’re just so beautiful.” He blushes.

“I think we should make him change again,” Dacia interjects.

“Okay.” We pick out the sheer red thong.

“Take off your panties.” He complies.

“Now, put these on.” He slides the red pair up his legs and against his cock. The head tucks in the cotton lining of the crotch, balls bulging on either side. It is one of the hottest things I have ever seen.

“Turn around.” His hand rubs his ass, then shyly pulls away.

“I saw that. Smack your ass.” Spank!

“And the other cheek.” Spank!

“Make them nice and rosey.” Smack, smack!

“Wonderful. Now, let’s get to work.”

I lead him in to the bathroom. I show him the milkcrate we had set up full of cleaning supplies. “You have a broom, mop, dust pan, shakey comet powder, windex, and bathroom tile spray, plus two scrubby sponges with the rough green sides. Think you can handle it?”

“Yes, mam.”

“Excellent. Get to work.” I walk back in to the living room to Dacia, giddy.

“Oh my god, he’s so hot” she mouths.

“I know. I want to jump him.”

“But not tonight.”

“Oh. Of course not. That wouldn’t be professional.”

As he finishes each section, there is an inspection and change of panties. After the sink he changes in to the purple velvet thong. As we are instructing his costume change, he asks, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Go scrub the tub!” is my reply. Dacia bursts out laughing.

While he is cleaning the bathroom floor my neighbor comes over to see if we want anything from the corner bodega. I tell her we have a guest. After checking with Steve, I invite her to join us.

He comes in to the living room in his sparkly leopard print thong.

“Rub your dick,” I instruct. “I want to see it pop when you pull down your thong.” Our neighbor is stifling laughter. There is far outside the realm of her normal day-to-day. Steve’s dick grows hard, straining the sheer fabric. When it is nearly bursting we tell him to stop and pull his panties down, slowly. His dick jumps.

We have him continue jerking off. “Turn around and brace yourself against the chair with your legs spread.” We admire the down of his ass and his balls bouncing between his legs. “Okay, face us and put these on.” I hand him the tiny baby blue g-string.

“Now?!?” he asks, motioning to his engorged cock.

“Yes.” He struggles into the panties. His balls split and stretched by the string. We have him pirouette.

“Damn, that’s one tight pair of panties!” Dacia exclaims.

“No kidding,” our houseboy teases, adjusting himself.

“Excellent. Now we need you to sweep the kitchen.” He begins. We admire and eat little chocolate donuts and gummy worms.

“Done,” he proudly proclaims.

He approaches, waiting our next command.

“We want you to jerk off.”

“But I thought we would save that for the end,” he protests.

“Well, this way you can come, and then mop it up.”

“Oh…” his grin speads across his face. He begins stroking his cock. Once erect, he stands and shakes his hips, sending his cock flying against either thigh, fwap fwap fwap. “That feels good”

“That looks good,” we agree.

He sits in a chair, legs spread, bracing against the floor. His tight shaven balls flushed like a nectarine. Dick flying as fingers pump around the shaft, index finger extended, conducting the experience.

“I want to see you shoot,” I say.

“On the floor,” says Dacia.

“Now,” says the neighbor.

He begins to shake, his muscles tense as his orgasm builds. When he shoots the spurts arc as they fly to the floor.

I applaud. After he catches his breath, I motion towards the mop. “Time to clean things up.” He eagerly complies, in the buff.

Before he leaves, I ask him what he wants his pseudonym to be in my “letter to penthouse.”

“You can call me Vladamir. Fresh from Coney Island. Big Dick. 12 Inches. We all have big dick on the Volga.” We crack up and invite him to my party on Saturday. Then Dacia and I go to bed, to happy dirty dreams of our new houseboy.

I’m still giggling.

the naked man in my bathroom

2005-06-03T00:45:00.000-04:00

okay, he's not completely naked. he's wearing a purple velvet thong. and he's scrubbing my bathtub.

explanation in the morning. sweet dreams, darlings.

geeked out

2005-06-01T22:41:00.000-04:00

I could have kicked wonder woman's ass today.

Dacia and I woke up early (after I stayed up until 3am building an evite, damn registration erasing the hour and a half of culling email addresses). I hauled the three year accumulation of good will donations from the mountain in the hallway, into garbage bags, down the stairs, and in to the car. Dropped Dacia off at the train. Donated the clothing at the drop off dumpster. Hit Blockbuster. Ran through the discount store for disposable plates and new fans. And bought all the groceries for the party (although i forgot sour cream for the multi-layered bean dip). All before 11:30am.

I then bought a turkey sandwich and a lemonade and took a nap.

Woke up at three to reserve a rental car for apartment hunting in houston, screened for a houseboy, and reserved a camp site and tickets for whale watching with Dacia on my birthday. Took a shower and responded to RSVPs, and shifted more furniture around the apartment. My goal is to only need to buy ice and get a pedicure on Saturday.

Then I hopped a train for Manhattan to the John Frieda salon, with a quick laptop handoff to the roommate who now lives with a boy. Got my first haircut in three years and first long cut (not chopping it off to the earlobes) since I was 13. I will be wearing my hair down with my graduation cap. It was an apprentice cut so the student did about two thirds while the expert demonstrated techniques and guided the cut. I have curly layers. The curls on the side of my face made me feel like farrah fawcett walking in the wind.

The haircut took longer than I anticipated. I ran downtown only to show up at Bluestockings after the reading had ended. Everyone was standing outside the store. Michelle Tea was surrounded by a crowd and a cloud of smoke. I went in the store (which is currently a book store without books due to their awesome renovation which includes a pepto pink bathroom) and chatted with one of the owners I know from dyke knitting circle. I kept looking outside at Michelle Tea but just couldn't approach her. Finally, I slunk away without making so much as eye contact, my exhaustively underlined and perpetually unsigned copy of Passionate Mistakes and Intricate Corruption of One Girl in America burning a hole (hole of shame) in my bag.

Then I accompanied the newly tonsil-less neighbor to meet a myspace friend around the block, which involved socializing for another hour and a half. Now I'm going to lay around in my panties, knit, and watch The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

I am super Jane and I am exhausted.

missing time

2005-06-01T15:05:00.000-04:00

There are two kinds of great books. There are books like the doorman which you stretch out over weeks, savoring four pages at a time in hopes that is does not end. And there are books like Mysterious Skin that you read at any possible moment, devouring chapters while stuck in traffic racing towards the final page.

What do you do after finishing a book like scott heim’s mysterious skin? This beautiful, moving novel details the lives of two boys who share a pedophilic little league coach. The first views the experiences as love. He hustles and tricks older men. The second remembers nothing. He has blank chunks of missing time which he later believes could be due to alien abduction. This book provides a fictional bridge between powerful memoirs such as Bastard out of Carolina and jt leroy’s body of work. The power of the imagery is at times overwhelming. By the end of the second chapter you will never look at cereal the same way again.

With such a strong book it is impossible to ignore personal parallels. After closing the back cover, I lay awake thinking of my own missing time. Unlike brian’s five hours, I am missing two and a half years. I became obsessed with this time my freshman year of college, convinced that something had happened to me. Something did happen, but I do not believe it was sexual.

The last thing I remember is the day before Christmas vacation in second grade. My best friend, Amanda was being picked up by her family on the way to the airport to get her grandparents. As she drove away, one of the girls in our girl scout troop mentioned how annoying Amanda had become of late. I scoffed, “I know. Sometimes I wish she would go away.”

The next thing I remember, I am trying to kill myself by smothering between the mattress and the box spring. I am nine.

In that gap, several major events occurred. First, the morning after Christmas, Amanda burned to death in a Christmas tree fire.

The next fall, my alcoholic grandfather almost killed himself (and another driver) in a car accident. He came to live with us for several months.

Finally, we moved for the first time.

Throw in the apparent early onset of my depression and you have a few legitimate and traumatic reasons to repress a period of time.

The following year, my mother sat with me at the top of the staircase and had “the talk”. She explained sex occurred between a man and a woman who were married and loved each other very much. The man put his penis in the woman’s vagina then released a fluid that was different than pee. This was how babies were made. And it was enjoyable. And a man and a woman could have sex on a woman’s period if they put down a towel first. That was sex. Oh, and there was also rape.

So, sex happened with marriage or rape. I became convinced I was going to be raped. I stared at every approaching car, convinced they would slow down to swipe me. I read the anonymous autobiographies, a la Go Ask Alice, detailing the pregnancies and AIDS deaths. I started writing short stories of rape in which the protagonist never tells her mother or friends and has her child in secret, running away from the shame.

I “just knew” rape was a part of me. In junior high and early high school, I became involved in witchcraft and the occult. Maybe I was raped in a past life. That’s why it hasn’t happened yet. It’s already happened.

The spring of my freshman year of college, at the urging of a male friend, I began to pry at the missing chunk of time. He supported the sexual abuse theory, targeting either my grandfather or the male neighbors next door (who in retrospect were probably a closeted couple).

But then I was raped. And the word left my vocabulary.

instead of this

2005-06-01T12:43:00.000-04:00

My obgyn suggested I wait a week or two before putting anything near my cervix. This is for comfort as well as preventing infections. So no dicks, dildos, tampons, or instead menstrual cups.

I miss my instead!

This is my first period without them in over a year. It is also my first pad-only period since sixth grade.

I keep forgetting to put a spare in my bag. Usually, I rinse out the instead cups and use them again for a day or so. (My gyn has okayed this.) But pads only hold so much until overflow. Is it my imagination or have all the tampon/pad dispensers disappeared from ladies’ rooms? The only times I have had leaks with instead is when I inserted them wrong or when I sleep with one on the first or second night of my rag. My jeans now have two rust lines on either side of the crotch.

I had forgotten that very special sensation of hauling ass on a hot day in jeans with a full pad. As Dacia likes to say, crotch soup.

herpes, butt plugs, and my mom

2005-05-31T23:27:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-31T23:09:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-31T22:55:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-31T00:08:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-26T10:20:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-24T13:07:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-24T01:16:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-23T12:23:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-22T20:03:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-20T08:49:00.000-04:00

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)

2005-05-19T11:34:00.000-04:00

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!

2005-05-16T11:35:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-16T00:01:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-12T22:25:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-12T18:08:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-06T14:09:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-04T16:40:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-04T00:12:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-04T00:01:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-02T01:18:00.000-04:00

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

2005-05-01T10:59:00.000-04:00

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.

ask jane - jacuzzi jizz

2005-04-29T08:45:00.000-04:00

Can I ask a safer stripping question? :) The new place that I'm working has several jaccuzzi's which are emptied and cleaned daily, but I'm sure they get jizzed in at least four or five times a night. The owner claims that he puts chemicals in them, but I don't beleive him. What can I catch from the hot tubs? What are the odds?

Ember

First off, you’re not going to get pregnant. Sperm cells die very quickly in the heated and cholorinated water. But what about the rest of the semen, including any infections that might be tagging along?

The risk of transmission of STIs via a hot tub or jacuzzi is slim to nil. HIV can not be transmitted in a hot tub. Syphilis can not be transmitted. I could not find any information on gonorrhea. Chlamydia can not be transmitted.

There have been rare cases documented of hepatitis transmission (I’m not sure what strand). Urinary tract infections (UTIs) can be caused by an assortment of bacteria in the water, not necessarily linked to semen.

Outside of the water, be conscious of sitting without a towel or suit poolside or on a wet bench. Rarely, herpes can be transmitted in this manner. Muluscum contagiousum and trichomoniasis can also be transmitted.

However, there are other bacterial infections spread in hot tubs. These include “hot tub lung”(rare) and “hot tub folliculitis or follicitus” (fairly common). Hot tub follicitus causes a rash that can look like chicken pox or scabies. It will usually heal itself in one to two weeks. It is not contagious outside of the hot tub (or other wet arena) – not spread by skin-to-skin contact. It is caused by bacteria that will grow in the hot tub water.

Basically, I wouldn’t worry about the semen so much as the hot tub. “Hot tubs provide an ideal environment for the growth of bacteria, such as M. avium. This is more likely to occur if a hot tub isn't cleaned or its filter isn't changed as often as recommended. Also, at temperatures above 84 F, added chlorine loses most of its disinfectant properties, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). The jets from hot tubs cause bubbles, which may contain abundant bacteria. The bubbles rise to the surface and disperse the bacteria into the air (aerolization)” http://www.mayoclinic.com/invoke.cfm?id=AN00660.

The best recommendations I found were to shower with soap and hot water before and especially after you sit in the hot tub and sit on a towel if you are outside the tub itself. A nice comprehensive guide to hot tub safety (that you could hand over to your boss) can be found at www.metrokc.gov/health/pools/spa-hot-tub-safety.doc.

Best of luck, darling. Enjoy your safer sex work.

Jane

new tattoo

2005-04-28T22:23:00.000-04:00

pretty.

i heart myles at bowery tattoo. he gave ana mendieta and my shoulder blade some loving. oh yeah.

ONT, that's me

2005-04-28T15:02:00.000-04:00

Official Nipple Taper of the Tromapacolypse blood wrestlers (including the lovely Dacia). I brought the red tape. I got to decorate the pretty ladies' boobies. A good time was had by all.

I also took pictures of the messy girls (the "blood" was vegan, smelled like kool-aid, and left them stained red). Dacia has posted a couple over on www.wakingvixen.com.

I got the chance to hang out with Nadia (kinkylibrarian.blogspot.com) and Dacia's dopplegangers. When I was introducing them to Nadia they subtly inquired if she also had an "alter-ego".

"Not professionally," I replied.

Nadia screamed "what?!?"

I told her, "They want to know if you're a whore, dear."

"A slut, but not a whore," she laughed.

I like a girl that appreciates the distinction.

the transit fairy

2005-04-26T16:30:00.000-04:00

this morning i was visited by the parking ticket fairy. she gave me two wonderful gifts. first, although i was concerned i may have parked a wee bit close to the fire hydrant, she approved via an absence of ticket.

earlier this month i had not been as fortunate and found a ticket beneath my wiper. i was shocked. in the pouring rain the evening before i could not see the no standing sign. oops. the ink of the ticket had run and the delicate paper tore as i peeled it from my windshield.

this morning, with the fairy on my mind, i decided to go online to resolve it (as one good turn deserves another). first, i was surprised when the license plate number on the ticket was not found in the database. looking out the window, i realized the license plate number was not found on my car, either. i ran my correct license plate number and it was absent from the system as well. finally, i ran the ticket number. it turns out the transit fairy made a boo boo writing the ticket and then further fumbled entering it into the system. consequently, the ticket can not be traced to my car.

i called my grandfather with my new found ethical dilema. do i call or venture to the department of motor vehicles and resolve the error, paying the ticket like an upstanding young citizen? "janie, you got lucky. you're home free. don't be a dolt. but don't park there again or the cops may recognize your car and correct the mistake."

and so, i threw my first parking ticket away.

may day went downhill from there as trains were messed up, errands took forever, and everything at the office was due an hour ago. but things are about to get better. i'm on my way to help dacia pick out a latex blood wrestling outfit. then i have physical therapy. a day of extreme vertigo.

appropriate

2005-04-25T22:48:00.000-04:00

walking back to the car after birthday sushi with dacia and her official ex-boyfriend friend, we found a mountain of boxes. i have been scouring craigslist lately for moving boxes, but it seems 75% of the ads want to barter with a "massage" and the rest get snatched up within five minutes of posting. as the boxes were collapsed and stacked together within other boxes, we grabbed a dozen with ease (more specifically, the ex-boyfriend grabbed and propped them up on his skull for the remaining three block). they were crammed into my trunk.

after dropping off dacia and driving home i hauled them out of the trunk and around the block to my apartment (damn alternate side parking at 10pm). i was doing well until they took a kamikaze dive on the front steps. fortunately, a guy walking by helped me collect them and get them inside the front door. at first he was very friendly, but then he started to give me funny looks. i thanked him and hurried inside as he was creeping me out and i needed to pee.

this might not have been a problem had i made use of the original contents of the boxes. i am now the proud owner of over a dozen adult urinary incontinence boxes. i have depends, silhouette, and poise extra. these boxes are currently being stuffed with all my sex books.

appropriate, as i am moving to teach aging populations sex ed.

abc, cnn, and hiv

2005-04-25T16:22:00.000-04:00

a recent big hit amongst international hiv prevention programs is the concept of the abc approach.
abstinence until marraige
be faithful
and when all else fails, use condoms

bush loves this plan. he would like it even better if it was simply ab.

however, a new program is gaining steam. this acronym is for those who have moved beyond sesame street. we're talking cnn.
condoms
needles (through exchange programs or sterilization risk-reduction education)
negotiation skills

and much to the chagrin of the vatican and the current u.s. administration, cnn is gaining steam.

check out this new article from agi (alan guttmacher institute). http://www.guttmacher.org/pubs/journals/3103805.html

a freaky friday for birth control

2005-04-25T15:53:00.000-04:00

two birth control methods have recently switched places in the game of american availability.

the today sponge is making a comeback after being yanked from the market over a decade ago due to problems with the manufacturer. at the same time, the cervical cap has disappeared after their U.S. distributor took a hike.

personally, i think both methods are less than perfect, and not just in their disturbingly low typical use efficacy rates (72-82% for the today sponge, 68-84% for the cervical cap). Neither offers any protection against sexually transmitted infection. And both rely upon nonoxynol-9 spermicide.

we used to think non-9 was not just a spermicide (renders sperm helpless), but a possible microbicide (ability to kill bacteria and viruses and/or prevent infection). the public health community was shocked and saddened when it was discovered that non-9 actually INCREASES the risk of many sexually transmitted infections, including HIV. this was due to the irritation caused by the harsh chemical (very similar to lysol or laundry detergent). consequently, the world health organization (WHO) passed a recommendation that spermicide not be used by those who have "frequent intercourse" (defined as more than three times a week) and those at risk for HIV infection, and NEVER be used for anal sex.

on the plus side, the today sponge uses a much smaller amount of spermicide than any prescription barrier method (diaphragms, FemCap, Lea's Shield, and the now dead cervical cap). and the spermicide is already in the sponge so no application is necessary.

although condoms (external, internal, latex, and polyurethane) will forever hold my heart as the end-all-be-all of over-the-counter contraception, i suppose the drug stores can make room for this new option that does not require a prescription and does not require participation of a woman's penis-wielding partner.