Then someone contacted me through my live support text feature on my site. He started right off by addressing me as "sexy." Now, as everyone knows, I certainly am sexy. But somehow, it's off-putting when someone I don't know from Adam calls me that. Or "hun." Or "darling." Or any number of cutsy names by which you wouldn't address your female physician or loans officer at your bank. Or perhaps you might address a cashier or waitress that way -- but many of them would also immediately file you under 'jackass' for doing so.
So, of course, I got snarly about it. And he went off, probably thinking, "Sheesh! If she's this uptight in text chat, imagine how uptight she is in person."
But those of you who have met me know that I'm anything but.
What this poor sap doesn't realize is that he was a victim of natural selection. Most call girls wouldn't say so publicly, but I will: guys who approach us that way tend to be more problematic down the road than guys who approach us as respectfully as they would persons in any other business person. I like to be selective. I'm looking more for long term relationships than quick money. So I have to size a person up and decide if I think he's going to be someone I will be happy spending time with for years to come. And if I do say so myself, I do a pretty good job of it! Based on stories I hear from some of the other ladies, I seem to have a solid line-up of princes.
So just remember, guys: first impressions count. If you want the best experiences, it's better to be on your best behaviour when you first make contact. Think of it this way: while you're interviewing us, we're interviewing you.
Anyway, first night she and her boyfriend were there, their room was broken into. Most valuables were in the safe, but her iPhone and camera were swiped.
This put a serious damper on their trip, what with having to meet with security and such, but she's an experienced traveler (much more so than me!) and she knows it can happen anywhere, any time -- despite the best efforts of security.
So yesterday was the day they were supposed to come home. I was awakened yesterday morning by a phone call from someone identifying himself as a police officer. He told me that they had my daughter in custody. He said a search of her room had revealed a "key" of cocaine.
!!!!
Of course, I knew this didn't sound anything like my daughter. But still, stranger things have happened. And my shake-down artist commiserated, saying that they, themselves, felt it was a set up. He was dancing around to the point of asking me to send money to resolve the matter quickly and neatly.
Regrettably, I had been awakened out of a sound sleep. The cat had me up earlier and had mercifully -- finally! -- allowed me to doze off again. If I'd been thinking, I would have waited until he'd given me full instructions WRT sending payment. But no. Instead, I blurted out "and how do I know you're not the one who ripped off her cell phone???" Duh!
Not that it probably would have helped anyway. I sincerely doubt that the resort is interested in justice through the courts. They wrote my daughter a cheque to cover replacement of the items. I sincerely doubt they even reported it to the police. Police reports = crime stats and I don't think that serves their interests. Best to sweep it under the carpet whenever possible and deal with problems internally. (Most resorts are locked down tighter than Gitmo. You can leave if you want -- but they don't recommend it. Fact is, resorts are actually pretty good at security, although no one is perfect.)
Anyway, she took the whole matter in stride, but her boyfriend was hopping mad. Initially, I thought I had nothing, but with some coaxing from him, I realized that I'd taken the initial call on my (other) Skype number -- and I have that set up to record all incoming and outgoing calls with Skype Call Recorder, as I often need to record interviews or verbal instructions from my clients in my other business. It was only after he mentioned it that I thought to go back and check -- yes! I had some of our conversation recorded.
We had a bad connection through Skype, so I insisted he phone me on my home number. And that gave me a "last number" on him.
So I had a fair bit for him to give to the "security." Although, I doubt they were interested in using it, beyond getting rid of the employee most likely involved in the heist.
And now it appears that just about everyone in her phone directory is being hit up with shake-down calls. Sigh!
Some times? Staying at home is the best bet.
(Although, these days, even that's no guarantee.)
Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
with people here working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat,
but there's gangs of them digging for gold in the streets.
At least when I asked them, that's what I was told
so I just took a hand at this digging for gold.
But for all that I found there, I might as well be
where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I believe that, in writing, a wish you expressed
was to how the fine ladies of London were dressed.
Well, if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball
they don't wear no tops to their dresses at all.
For I've seen it myself, and you couldn't ask me to
say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath.
Don't be starting up fashions, now Mary McGee
in the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here, oh never you mind!
With beautiful shapes nature never designed.
And lovely complexions of roses and cream.
But let me remark, with regards to the same:
that if there those roses you ventured to sip
the colour might all come away on your lip.
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
Sorry if I've been incommunicado the past few days. We FINALLY got the upstairs hallway floors and stairs painted. I love it! If someone would have told me a few years ago that I'd be thrilled to see hardwood floors painted over, I wouldn't have believed it. But as those who've visited our home know, it really was the best solution for this place. Refinishing the floors was impossible; carpeting would have been impractical with our dogs; and cushion flooring too expensive. We painted the family room/office at the beginning of summer, and love the way it looks and cleans up. And with our brood of 4-legged brats, we need something that cleans up nicely.
But what a job! Dogs and Mina all had to be kept off the stairs and on the first floor for several days. The dogs weren't a huge problem -- we just brought their kennels down to the dining room -- but Mina was another matter. She likes to go pussyfooting around in the early hours, and we didn't want any kittycat paw prints on our freshly painted floors. We put off doing the job for more than a week while trying to figure out how to solve this problem. Then it struck us! Move all the furniture back in the living room and put up the tent. Put Mina inside it along with her favourite Liberator Shapes, her pottybox, her food and water, treats, toys, etc.
So Mina went camping for a few days -- she was "roughing it." She fell instantly in love with the tent -- I think she was disappointed when we took it down. Only problem for me is that she usually comes and wakes me up in the early hours of morning, wanting pets and massages and treats, and so she would meow loudly each morning for me to come into her tent and spend quality time with her. Yeesh! Oh, and did I mention that she didn't want me on the furniture? Yeah, well... we had to come to terms on that.
I was in there with her this morning, and I finally fell back to sleep. I had the strangest dream that Fred threw a surprise birthday party for me, and invited the Prime MInister, the Governor General, all kinds of important muckity-mucks and ambassadors and such, all of whom brought their spouses and kids. And of course the media tagged along to cover the event. Speeches were being given while I was trying to hide out upstairs! Yes, this was a nightmare for me -- a most fearful scenario! I'm not really a very social or public person, and so I was freaking out about all of this, while having to be polite to important people who were kind enough to show up to see me. I awoke when I felt someone's little teeth on my arm -- I guess she'd been trying to wake me without success. She rarely bites anymore. She just puts her teeth on your -- just to remind you that she can inflict a painful bite. If she's displeased. Over breakfast, I made Fred promise NEVER to throw me a birthday party!
Mina wants to go camping again next weekend.
- Mood:
grateful
So here's what all's happened over the past couple weeks:
My beloved Palm Zire broke down! I use it for everything -- I read my books on it, keep my tunes on it, my recipes, shopping lists, all my organizational info, of course (to-do, contacts, schedule, memos, etc.), and I have a few apps on there that I really love, including a time one that has all kinds of cool extra features, such as it allows me to input my GPS location and then find out sunrise and sunsets for each day (including civil, nautical & astronomical -- okay, why would I want to know that? Well, Mina pretty much goes by astronomical for starting and ending her day). I also have a kickass conversion app that also includes a calculator, Periodic Table, and a list of Physical Constants (... why would I need those? just because, okay??). I rarely use the single megapixel camera or video, but I have used it to document something just before we take it apart or so I can compare something in one place to something in another. The voice memo is great to grab to make a quick note to myself. But anyway, it broke. The problem was the charging cord. I think this may have also affected the battery a bit, as it doesn't seem to hold a charge as long as it used to.
So what to do? I really like the iPod Touch! If I'd seen it before I bought my netbook, I probably would have gone with that instead. Problem is the price. I can't find any real dealz. I picked up the Zire refurbed for $46 (yes!!) and for whatever reason, that was a huge factor in my love for it. I will get an iPod Touch for sure -- but not until I can get it on a deal, which may mean waiting a year or two. Going without was making me miserable. So my husband got on eBay and found me a new charging cord and battery for prices I liked, and the cord has since arrived. We may not have needed the battery, but I'm sure we will eventually. Whew! At least I have my little Zire back! I was going stir crazy without it.
We've been doing a lot -- A LOT! -- in the kitchen. We've at least harvested a few tomatoes, and so far, we've been eating them like crazy. I made some ketchup out of some of them, and some pico de gallo, but mostly (and especially the sweet cherry tomatoes) we just toss into burritos, wraps, breakfast cereal (... joking... but I've considered it!). Here's a pic of my favourite breakfast this season -- I call it Cheesy Over Easy:
Sooooo good! I have also been making pies. I made up some chicken pot pies last week, and a pumpkin pie from scratch, and an apple pie. I'm having a time getting a handle on the crusts. The crust on the pumpkin pie was like wallboard! We've been rendering our own lard, and it is a bit purer than the storebought stuff (which is hydrogenated to give it a more stable shelf life) and so I'm trying to figure out how to adjust. The crust on the apple pie was considerably better, but I think I can get something even flakier if I keep working at it.
As for reading, with the Zire down for a while, I was lost at sea for a bit. Just before the Zire went down, I read Dan Brown's latest, "The Lost Symbol." One of the things he noted in the novel was that the American founding fathers were actually deists, as opposed to Christians -- or at the very least, took a deist approach to writing official documents. I was able to find and download (free!) copies of the American Declaration of Independence and the American Constitution. I've been going over them, and guess what! It's true! There's absolutely no evidence to suggest (as some wingnut 'Mericans like to do these days) that the founding fathers intended for the US to be a Christian nation. In fact, they went out of their way to avoid any mention of Jesus or Christianity or any other specifically religious term. They speak of a "Creator" and "nature," but don't name names.
And that makes sense, when you think about it. Many early American colonists fled England and Europe precisely because of religious hassles. Think of the tumult that England went through from the time that Henry VIII decided to replace the Catholic church with his own Anglican church of which he was the head. Then his daughter reversed the decision, and the next daughter reversed that again -- and with every new policy would come seizures of lands and property, executions, imprisonments, terror, intrigue. It seems obvious that the founding fathers would seek to protect the fledgling United States from that.
Another thing that's being batted around a lot lately is the notion that the founding fathers intended the United States to be a capitalist country. That's probably true -- but I'm sure they never intended to see corporate capitalism as it exists today. I read Gangs of America (Ted Nace) a couple years back that said (which I didn't know) that originally, corporations in the US were tightly leashed. They were required to secure charters from state legislatures, and these charters were very strictly defined with respect to scope and lifespan. Corporations had to exist for a specific purpose, and could only conduct business to that end or own property to that end, within state lines, and for a specific length of time (such as a year or two).
And again, it would make sense that the founding fathers would feel a need to keep corporations in tight check. After all, many of the grievances colonists had were directly related to large corporations (such as the East India Tea Company) that lobbied the Crown for trade rules and laws favourable to their profits at the expense of the colonists. (Similar to the way corporate industry lobbies governments for rules and laws favourable to their profits at the expense of middle class working people today.) It's unlikely the founding fathers would have gone to bat for the health insurance industry or Wall Street.
And other than that, I've been rereading some books I read a few years ago. Hey, we watch re-runs, eh?
This weekend, we really need to buckle down and start painting floors again. We have to do the floor in the massage room, the upstairs hall and the stairs. Ugh! I don't look forward to the fumes, but it's still warm enough to open windows. Yesterday -- the coldest day so far this year -- the furnace quit. But it was promptly fixed!
The weather stunk for most of this summer. Our garden was woeful. The pool developed an intractable algae problem. But all in all, it was the best summer ever! I love being out here on the farm every day instead of just weekends. I've met some great new friends. And...
... I discovered this new technique that gives me very intense orgasms very quickly. It's an oral technique. I always said getting there was half the fun, but this is pretty fun too! I just can't get enough of it. Ask the next time we meet, and I'll show you how it works. ;-)
This week has been a busy one. Lots going on. While in Ottawa this week, we had a chance to stop into Produce Depot and pick up some much-needed veggies to put up for the winter. We've seen no loose fresh spinach out our way at all at the places we usually shop. So amongst other things, I now have a bunch of veggies to process to get us through the winter months -- spinach to blanch, chop and put up in the freezer; zucchini (from our garden) to grate and freeze; cabbages to make into sauerkraut, etc.
I know this is going to sound odd, but we tried rendering our own lard this week. !!! It was quite easy and came out well. I've already used some to make tortillas and some to make dog cookies. It's beautiful, pure and white, and was super easy to do. We picked up a postal scale at a yard sale last year (... actually, we didn't buy it -- my husband took the last remaining unsold items off the lady's hands, as she was trying to get rid of as much as possible for a tight moving date -- and this is one of the items). We used it to package the lard into 1/4-lb servings. Now we need to buy apples and pumpkins. I think this winter will see lots of pies around our house!
I find it amazing that we were warned off butter and lard since what? The 70s? Margarine and vegetable shortening, it was insisted, were healthier choices. Now after all these years of eating that crap, turns out they were wrong after all! Anymore, whenever I see the words "lite," "healthy choice," "lo cholesterol," "lo cal," "low fat," "sugar free," "no added salt," etc., I view it as a euphemism for "tastes like shit." Too cynical? All I know is, we stopped eating almost all processed "convenience" foods a couple years back, including fast foods and take-away, and I've lost 25 lbs without dieting. As anyone who reads my post here knows, I'm rather sensual in my approach to food.
Still waiting on our tomatoes, although some of the cherries and (I think) Tiny Tims are starting to ripen. I made "sun dried" (in the oven) tomatoes with some of smaller ones yesterday, and sometime this weekend, I'm hoping to make up some Sun-Dried Tomato & Kalamata Olive Bread. I never liked tomatoes generally, but if they're vine-ripened, that's different! We've been throwing slices of cherry tomatoes into salads, tortilla wraps, and even under the eggs on our Cheesy Over-Easy's in the morning!
And I'm reading Dan Brown's latest, The Lost Symbol. So far, it's just so-so. A reliable read.
....
OH NO! The doorbell just rang -- it was the Jehovah's Witnesses (again!). But this time, they opened the gate with our dogs in the backyard and walked right in! What if our dogs had gotten out? What if one of our dogs had bitten them? (Our dogs don't usually bite, but the truth is that any dog will bite if they're confused -- and Jehovah's Witnesses confuse me!) Over the years, we have tried to be tolerant and polite towards these people, who seem to have little regard or respect for anyone else. But this is unbelievable!
I wish the government would do something about these pests. They regularly target streetwalkers and johns -- why? Because they're a public nuisance. They have cracked down on telemarketers, again, because they were a nuisance and interfering with people's right to privacy. They should do it with the Jehovah's Witnesses for the same reasons. I understand that their religion demands that they proselytize, but their religious rights shouldn't trump my rights in my home and on my property. Surely there must be less invasive ways for them to live up to their religious mandate without violating everyone else's privacy and security.
Grrr! And ironically, they could have come to the front door. I guess we're going to have to get a lock for the back gate. It's ironic that we rarely lock our doors, but now we'll have to start locking the gate -- not to keep out criminals, but to keep out a bunch of self-centred ideologues who have no respect or regard for anyone else!
In other news, the massage room is up and I'm back in the business of making guys squirm again! Too much fun!
But space is at a premium and one early sacrifice that was made was our dedicated massage room -- something we've had in any home we've lived in since AT LEAST 1994.
No more.
Turns out, we had a guest bedroom (heretofore referred to as "Mina's Room") and our bedroom, which included our bed, a couple dressers and a couple of dog crates. The thing with our cat, Mina is that she wasn't socialized to dogs from an early age -- and we have a pack of very wild & crazy dogs! So while she can handle them one-on-one or maybe even two at a time (depending on the combination), she needs a place where she can be that they can't get in to. We decided that would be the guest bedroom, as she commandeered the Liberator Shapes Wedge/Ramp combo with stage while still at the apartment (... how prescient of the people at Liberator to make furniture exclusively for kitties!). The dogs would wreak havoc on my Liberator Shapes in no time flat, and so we keep them out of the spaces where we have them. That's how Mina's private space ended up being the guest room.
BUT while she's content to come out as it pleases her and to be alone in there most of the day (with frequent visits to pay homage and offer treats and ear rubs to her), there is one time of the day that she demands that I come in and be with her: usually around 4 AM - 7 AM. All hell breaks loose if this SWMBO is defied -- she yowls loudly, jumps on our bed (hard!) and then jumps off again, trying to lead us back to her room. If that doesn't work, she taunts the dogs in their crates until she has them barking and going nuts. (Always fun at that hour of the morning!) And if that doesn't work, she prowls shelves and bureau tops, knocking off whatever she can find. Suffice to say, I was quickly trained to come in with her in the morning on demand. Then when my husband gets up to take the dogs out (they regularly wake up with all this commotion), he usually joins me in there. So why exactly do we need two bedrooms? Lately we've just been making it easy on ourselves and sleeping in the guest room all night.
But this left us with a room not used -- sacrilege in this house! And a massage table gathering dust. Sure, we always say that it sets up in a flash and if we ever feel the need for some massage, we can find a place to set it up temporarily. Truth is, it rarely happens. If massage is going to be a big part of your home life, you really need a table at the ready for those impulse massages.
So the long and the short of it is, today, we did away with the master bedroom and we're setting up a dedicated massage room in there instead. It will be more than worth it, I'm sure! And a real treat for us (and our guests!!) as we haven't enjoyed that since we moved here. The only person who might have a problem with it is our daughter, as she views the guest room as hers (...silly girl!). If she comes again next summer, we'll just have to figure out a temporary bed solution -- maybe one of those inflatables. Besides, she's a huge devotee of massage herself, often parking herself on the table and refusing to budge until she gets a massage.
(I'm probably going to need this in a couple days. As anyone who's visited The Love Shack knows, it was designed for shorter people than most of us today. The door frames upstairs, in particular, offer bare clearance. Today I managed to misjudge and come up hard, banging the top of my head on the frame. I only have a small egg there, but the sickening CRUNCH!-SQUISH from my neck was the real problem. The pain steadily traveled down the side of my head to my neck, then my shoulder and now to my shoulderblade. Today, it's just icing, aspirin, inversion therapy and booze! But tonight I can barely turn my head, and once the swelling's dealt with, some massage is going to be great.)
Live better!! Include massage in your life!
What possessed me to do it, I don't know -- but I selected "Deadly Innocence" by Toronto Star reporters (.. yeah, I shoulda known) Scott Burnside and Alan Cairns as my most recently completed book. (Maybe it was just the e-version, but it was terribly edited and organized. Almost every page was riddled with misspellings and errors. Example: in chapter 5, the misspelling 'vacume' occurs -- oh brother!) Often I'd have to guess at what something meant. Still, I suspect this may have been an OCR of a scan, and that would account for the problems, as most of the grammar and syntax was okay.
It's the story of Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka. I'll confess that during the trial, I didn't really follow it all that closely. I felt the media was having a field day and distorting things to their most advantageous end. And the whole matter disgusted me.
But I'll also admit that I always believed that the Crown had made a "deal with the devil" with Homolka. This book put that in some doubt for me. I had never bought into her "battled wife syndrome" excuse -- I mean, it's hard for me to. I guess when you've never been in any sort of relationship even remotely close to what she describes -- and on top of that, you've engaged in fantasty role-playing that was similar to what she and her husband did (without actually torturing or killing anybody, of course!!!!!) -- it's just hard to believe that it could be an excuse for participating in the kidnapping and rape/torture of an unconsenting and defenseless human being, much less her murder. I always felt that something in Homolka had to have been into it for her to do what she did.
And perhaps some part of me still does, in spite of the new info presented in this book. (New to me. The book was published in 1995. I just haven't looked before this.) I was deeply affected by an explanation from one of the experts interviewed toward the end of the book. Karla was only 17 to Paul's 23 when they took up together. There are 9 years difference in age between my husband and myself, but we were 24 and 33 when we met -- I was already an independent adult who had lived on my own, had a career, been off to university and knew a little about myself before getting involved with an older man. If Karla would have been 23 and Paul 29 when they met, the dynamics might have been very different. I believe that.
I was floored to find how many people the Bernardos were involved with on a day-to-day basis. Also I was floored to learn that Paul Bernardo essentially made his living smuggling cigarettes from the US. I guess I'm not criminal material, but I always assumed that if one were going to get into the business of kidnapping, raping and killing young women, they'd want to be purer than Caesar's wife in all other aspects of their lives in order to eliminate the possibility of anyone suspecting them or the police sniffing around. Also, I assumed that people involved in this sort of thing would tend to keep to themselves and live very private lives. Not Paul and Karla! They were apparently very social, partied regularly and maintained close ties with her family.
It's still hard for me to come to grips with the notion that a woman could stand by and allow such things to be done to another woman or a child. My mind rushes to all the things Karla might have done, the action she might have taken. But then, I must realize that I've never found myself in her situation. I certainly know what it's like to be beat up -- between car wrecks, motorcycle accidents, skydiving incidents, windsurfing splats, etc. I've certainly had my fair share of cuts, bruises and broken bones -- but no human has ever intentionally, sadistically and systematically hurt me that way. It's romantic to think that we'd never allow ourselves to be cowed, but who knows? Until we're actually in that situation, how can we actually know? I think her trouble was she was young and naive and got into that situation, and was up to her neck in it before she knew what had happened.
I looked it up online -- she's since had a child and left Canada. It will be interesting to see if any further chapters in this story will be written. I hope, for everyone's sake, not.
A friend brought me this over the weekend.
But you don't have to be in the business very long to realize that the truly unpleasant thing has nothing to do with the guys we meet -- it's the guys we don't meet. Here are a few:
The TireKicker -- This is the kind of guy who spends his Saturday afternoons taking test drives in cars he couldn't afford (or has no intention to buy), or having a real estate agent show him around houses he couldn't afford (or has no intention to buy). He likes to window shop. And like any good tirekicker, the game is to get as much out of his poor victims as possible by dangling the chance that he might buy something.
I've been getting an extra helping of tirekickers lately, since moving out of town. You see, now that I'm no longer in town, they have an excuse why they can't see me right away. They usually start off by saying something like, "I've been following your web site for years, but never got a chance to see you." ??? I've been in Ottawa since 1989, with two short breaks in Kingston and Alberta. In ALL that time he never got a chance to see me? Uh huh. Twenty years is a pretty tight window I guess. Don't blink!
(Although even in town, I heard from tirekickers on a daily basis.)
He usually proceeds to dither... he's just not sure. Maybe I could do something to help him make up his mind, like say, put on a sexy web cam show for him, or exchange some sexy chat. Or maybe I could send him some photos that aren't on my site or give him access to my members area. Gee, maybe he could bring his laundry over and I'll do it naked for him. Yeesh.
For many, many years, I was patient with tirekickers because who knows? Maybe they just were really indecisive people. But not anymore. If it walks like a tirekicker and quacks like a tirekicker, I assume he's a tirekicker and waste as little time as possible on him.
BTW, when I was out in Alberta? I heard from numerous Ottawa guys who insisted that they were just getting ready to see me when I moved. Drat! But when I came back just seven months later, guess how many of these same guys did....
You guessed it. Zero.
The Guy Outside My Preferences -- Most people, including call girls, have preferences. Some may be based on age or even race or cultural background. I've had friends tell me that they didn't want to work for anyone in the same ethnic community that they come out of because they're afraid they'll run into someone they know. Makes sense! I've had friends tell me that they only want to work for single guys or don't prefer older gentlemen.
Me? I DO prefer older gentlemen. I will meet with people in their 30s, but 40 and upwards is mostly what I'm attracted to. Some of the sexiest partners I've had have been 70 or better. This isn't because I'm in my 50s. I felt the same way when I was in my teens and 20s, only back then, many older guys felt awkward seeing me because I was too young.
And actually, I DO preferred married guys -- and preferably married guys who love their wives, and/or have a healthy well-rounded appreciation for women. Not just for screwing women, but for women in general.
Enter The Guy Outside My Preferences. He's often too young to date my 30-year-old daughter even (...although her current SO is only 26 -- the cougar!). When I explain my preference, he takes it personally. Am I saying he's not mature?? He insists he's very mature! I just shake my head and laugh at that. I know a lot of older men, and not a one of them would cop to being mature! He insists that he prefers mature women. First of all, I'm older -- I am definitely not mature. There's photographic evidence around to prove it. Secondly, does he not realize that even if he can beat me over the head with his impeccably mature logic and get me to see him when I don't prefer to, that it isn't going to result in the best quality service for him?
Some older SPs love younger guys and playing the role of the MILF. Oh, and that's another thing. Any mention or insinuation of motherhood is a direct turn-off to me. I'm either in mommy mode or sexy vixen mode. I don't combine the two. Believe it or not, I'm actually only sexy when I'm alone with my husband or when I'm doing my job. In the rest of my life, I go out of my way NOT to be sexy. It's just safer, more discreet. If you're going to do something right under people's noses, it's best to be the last person they'd ever suspect.
Sense of Entitlement Guy -- Let's clear the air on something: using the services of a call girl is probably one of the most extravagant luxuries anyone can treat themselves to. It isn't a life necessity. I don't have anyone "over a barrel" as I've been accused of so many times (by guys who make this claim apparently completely straight-faced). As those who know me well would attest, I live very modestly. In fact, in recent years, I think it's entirely likely that, judged on the basis of income alone, my household falls under the poverty line, or at least very near it. (Although looked at from a quality of life perspective, we're probably wealthier than most billionaires.) So when this guy asks me to give him a lower rate that he likes better, essentially, he's asking me to help him get an extravagant luxury for himself at my own expense.
And if I point out that there is a wide range of prices out there, he usually counters with "but I want to see you!" Very flattering! Out of all the call girls out there, you want to rip me off? Go away.
And sadly, this guy might be one that I do see sometimes, although it usually ends badly. He's the guy that no matter what you give him, he wants something not on the menu. He's the one who thinks he should get the hour for the half hour rate -- but if I were to give it to him, he'd still want more. This is the guy who, if my rate was $5 would still complain. Why? Because he has a sense of entitlement. I've come to realize that all I can do when I encounter someone like this is leave him alone. I don't need the negativity.
I'm a call girl. Not Mother Freaking Theresa.
Uncomfortably Explicit Guy -- This guy wants to discuss intimate details before you've even met! This always puzzles me. Because none of the legit customers I've met over the years ever needed to do this -- so why would this guy need to? It's creepy.
Although, in this case, I think it could well be lack of sophistication. Many guys look to the review boards to learn about this business, and so they tend to learn everything they know from the guys who think they know everything. And... maybe those aren't the best people to learn from. I really do think some of the guys who start off with "do you do bbbj?" don't realize that they just put their feet in their mouths.
Best way to make a poor impression on anyone is to put them on the spot to compromise themselves with someone they don't know from Adam. I mean, by the time some guy is asking me this, he's already seen my web site, my videos, my ads, maybe even seen me participating in various forums. All I can see of him is a big question mark. I don't know who I'm dealing with. When I encounter that, I take the safe-rather-than-sorry approach. And everybody loses. Yeesh.
___________________________
Before the days of the internet, when we had to do all our interacting over the phone, guys would often say to me, "you're so nice in person, but you're such a bitch on the phone!" The reason for that is simple: on the phone, I dealt with everybody -- both the people I wanted to see and thought I would be a good match with, and many times more people like those above. People trying to get something for nothing out of me or rip me off. People trying to convince me to do something I don't prefer. People trying to compromise me. People just wasting my time as a form of entertainment.
When I actually have a chance to meet with someone I like and am excited about being with, this job cannot be beat! But the business side of it? Augh! If I ever do retire, I won't miss that part one little bit.
Think about it! Mosquitoes and biting flies have the quick-get-away advantage. They can be on and off you before you can get them. It's hard to get mosquitoes and flies. Not impossible, but they get away as least as often as you get them, if not more often. But the same isn't true for spiders. Spiders are relatively slow and people kill them easily. Therefore, I always assumed that if a spider were to feed on humans, natural selection would take care of it in a hurry and make sure the human-loving genes didn't get carried forward.
Anyway, over the course of the next few days, I got bit badly a few more times in my sleep. It was ungodly hot and humid -- and while I have a/c for use when entertaining a guest, we certainly don't leave it on at night. This old farmhouse isn't well-insulated enough to make air conditioning cost effective. So of course I was sleeping butt naked with no sheets even. Most of the bites were to my left breast and one very bad one to my left upper arm -- more fatty areas than mosquitoes and biting flies usually prefer.
One night, when I realized I'd been bitten, I turned on the light, determined to find the little bugger that had bitten me. I saw a spider hanging off the ceiling -- but I'd been seeing it around all along. I didn't assume it would try to bite me, in view of the dangers doing so would pose to it. So instead I cursed her for not having gotten the bug that was preying on me, and went back to sleep.
This went on and I got several very bad bites! Finally, last Saturday night, I was here on my own, listening to music (Fred having gone out to a party) when something bit me. I turned on the light and looked, and the spider was making its way across the sheets towards the wall. Still, I didn't think anything of it, assuming that spiders are usually too smart to cross humans. I fell asleep and awoke to the feeling of something crawling on my chest. I brushed it off, and it felt substantial. Without even thinking, I crushed it between the sheets and it left big reddish-brown splotches, like blood. I turned on the light and pulled back the sheet -- the spider!
And oddly enough, I haven't been bit since.
Could it be that this spider accidentally bit me once defensively, and decided that it liked the way I tasted, so came back for more?? (Believe it or not, I've heard that from human males a few times.)
I'm still inclined to believe that this is more a case of circumstantial evidence than proof positive that I got bit several times by a common variety Eastern Ontario spider. It was more likely a biting fly -- as the bite sites appear more diffuse than that of a mosquito.
Still, I suppose it might be possible. The whole thing only goes to prove, though, that spiders biting humans is a no-win proposition for the spiders. If it was indeed this spider that was biting me, then I'm sure I killed her before she had a chance to reproduce. (If I were the kind of person who believes that spiders bite humans routinely, I would have killed her that first night I saw her on the ceiling.) But if not, then she is just another creature framed and sentenced to the death penalty in a misunderstanding.
In general, though, we don't kill spiders around here.
The pastoral and organic industry sections are two separate sections (although inter-related). The meal at the end of the organic section was an organically grown, "free range" chicken (apparently named Rosie??) and I can't recall what all else except for some horribly expensive and cardboard-y, off-season asparagus from somewhere in South America. I do recall that there was a second meal -- a "microwavable organic TV dinner" -- BLECH!
I think this might be one of those Freudian slip things that I totally blocked this section out of my mind. I'll freely admit that I'm allergic to anything trendy, and Whole Foods (which we don't even have in Ottawa) is right up there at the top of that list when it comes to groceries.
Seriously, I don't know what is wrong with me. It's one thing not to follow trends -- but is it telling that I'll go out of my way not to follow trends??
Example: I recently bought a pair of wireless rim glasses that I LOVE! You may see me in them soon. I was going to buy this exact same pair about a year ago... and then Sarah Palin came on the scene. And while I'm not all that impressed with her as a politician or potential leader of the free world, I'll confess that I'd hang out with her. She looks like she'd be a hoot. But I saw an article about how there was a rush on wireless rim glasses as soon as she came on the scene, and that caused me to hold back.
Am I so afraid of being thought to follow pop-culture trends that I can't even get what I want when I want it?? Apparently so!
Some part of me wonders if that isn't just as shallow as following pop-culture trends. Hmmmm...
- Mood:
curious
Still it is true and acknowledged that the US -- and perhaps to only a slightly lesser extent, Canada -- is getting fatter. Are we eating more? Undoubtedly. But there has to be something more to it than that. Not just how much we're eating, but what we're eating and how we're eating it. For example, by now, we all know that most chickens for sale at the market these days are raised in crowded conditions, overfed, and pumped full of antibiotics and hormones to make them grow larger and faster. This is done, of course, to maximize profits. But it's not so good for the chickens, some of whom grow so large so fast that their little bones break or they fall and can't get up, and then they starve or, more likely, die of dehydration because they can't get to food and water.
Think about it. The fact that obesity is becoming a major factor in health costs lately is bandied around in the press and pretty much taken for granted. But do we reflect on why that is or who is profiting from fattening us up? (Because, believe me! It isn't done as a favour to us. If there were no profit in making people fat, we'd all be rakes!) In the case of the chickens, the farm or company bears the costs of feeding and providing "health care" to the chickens, and the end-users, the markets' customers, provide the profits. The chicken is just along for the ride on the way to profits. In our case, we pay to feed ourselves (providing someone somewhere with profits) and then we pay for our own health care (one way or another -- again, providing someone somewhere with profits). We seem to be in the same game as the chickens, but we pay for our rides! AND we tolerate conditions we pity chickens for: being fattened up to the point of disability in order to increase someone else's profits!
I have been thinking about food a lot in recent years. And more and more all the time. I am very eager to see the movie, Food, Inc. but I don't like going to theaters and I haven't seen it for rent at any of my usual haunts yet. While watching an interview on it on YouTube, I listened to Michael Pollan, the author of a book, "The Omnivore's Dilemma." I checked and eReader.com had it, so I bought it on the spot. I just finished it this morning -- probably one of the most entertaining and informative reads in a couple years!
The book has three sections, each on a different vector of food production (or acquisition?) and each section ends with a meal made of that vector. The first section is "Industrial," looking at how the meal at the end (a McDonald's lunch, eaten while speeding down the highway in a car) came about. The story starts on a corn farm, wends it's way through the feedlots, the corn processing plants, the complex foods processing plants (with their marketing departments), before arriving at the counter at McDonalds. There is some seriously scary stuff in this section. Seriously scary!!!!! When the terrorists flew airplanes into the World Trade Centre buildings, I didn't personally feel at risk for terrorism. Sure, it's not impossible, but the chances are far more remote than that I should be struck by lightning or run over by a bus. But the stuff I learned in this chapter? That's stuff that had touched my life greatly over the years, and still does a bit. (I think I got off the processed food bus just in the nick of time, too, as the rate at which disaster impends seems to be growing greater every day!)
The second section was my favourite section, on pastoral agriculture. Just as I never realized that cows were never designed to eat corn and that it will kill them if they do it long enough (I think a cow is on a feedlot around 150 days, and its health is closely monitored during that time as corn diets cause them so many health problems that they're sick the whole time), I never realized that there is a far better way to raise livestock: feed them grass, and do it in such an intelligent way that the animals eating the grass also replenish the it. It's complicated -- you'd have to read it for yourself -- but in general, it involves a lot of temporary fencing and portable enclosures, and moving various animals around to graze on (and fertilize) fields, then letting the fields rest and rejuvenate while the animals are off grazing elsewhere. It sounds like a perfect scheme to me, although I have a great deal of respect for the know-how of those who do it. It isn't something you could do following instructions out of a book.
This section ended with a chicken dinner and a chocolate souffle dessert -- the chicken and eggs for the souffle being a product of pastoral farming. The farm in question also raised beef and pork, but aren't allowed to slaughter those on the farm. Only the chicken. The chicken slaughter was detailed, and this brings to mind something else I'd never considered before reading this book. I always thought that the big crime in industrial beef was the cruelty with which the animals were slaughtered. I always thought they were quite happy eating their corn diets and then one day all hell breaks loose as they're herded to a terrifying end. I never realized that the corn diet was sheer torture for them too! But animals must be killed by someone somewhere if we're to eat (... and I'm really sure nature never intended me to be a vegan!), and all death is ugly and at least a little painful. Perhaps it's more humane to allow the animal to live as nature intended up to the point of its death -- even if this results in lower profits or a significantly higher price. Perhaps the problem isn't that we eat meat, but that we eat way too much of it, dwarfing our intakes of other crucial foods. If the price were higher, perhaps we'd have the incentive to bring our diets into better balance. And perhaps more profit would bypass the corporate middlemen and find its way back into the farmer's pocket.
This section also examined the "industrial organic" movement -- its benefits and the compromises it makes. Now I understand why people say they prefer to eat organic but can't always afford to. I had wrongly assumed that we've been eating organic at our household -- and sometimes we are. We've been eating a lot of organically grown zucchini at our house lately, having been fertilized only with kitchen compost and poop from the llamas out back, and no pesticides (if the critters or the bugs really want a plant that badly, we'll step aside and let them go at it). Price and availability (so we can reduce the amount of driving we do) are probably the most important factors in making our selections -- and so even though we make most of what we eat from scratch these days (even a few condiments), I really have no idea if our milk, eggs, cheeses, and meats are organically grown.
The last section was entitled "Personal" and was about hunting and gathering. I didn't think I'd enjoy this section all that much -- I suspected it might end up being a little too "California" for my taste. And it was pretty California! The meal at the end of this section consisted mostly (some small compromises were made) of foods the author hunted and foraged for himself. Although he'd never even fired a gun before, he went hunting and shot a wild pig -- and field dressed it! And he went foraging for wild mushrooms -- something that would unnerve me -- but I think he went about it the right way, finding experienced wild mushroomers to serve as his guides. The meal also included some stuff from his garden (not true "gathering" but...) and some cherries he picked off some unsuspecting person's tree.
I was raised in a home where hunting was thought to be both cruel and evidence of male sexual dysfunction. (Seriously, my dad is totally against hunting! He always claimed if they were true "sportsmen" they'd level the playing field: either strip naked and hunt with nothing more than their bare hands, or -- if they insist on using guns -- another object of contempt in my parents' home -- cordon off an area with a big buffer around it and let the hunters hunt each other.) I incorporated these views into my own outlook as I came into adulthood -- and of course it didn't help that some of the hunters I knew seemed like total jerks who equated masculinity with bullying and callousness. In recent years, however -- and especially since learning of the conditions under which our meats are raised -- I've come to think that perhaps it's less cruel to shoot and kill an animal that was allowed to live a normal life than to fill one full of hormones and antibiotics, fatten them up with foods they were never designed to ingest, and keep them in crowded unnatural conditions.
I'm so glad I found and read this book. My husband has started on it already. As I've said before, our approach to food has changed dramatically in recent years, but not necessarily out of any moral or political stance. For us, it's purely practical. I've never been much of a dieter. (Through my fatter years, I decided just to make friends with my butt and belly.) I don't see us ever going vegan or going the "free range" or "organic only" routes. Still, I've come a long way! When I first married Fred, my ideal breakfast was a Dr. Pepper and a Snickers Bar. Now we make as much as we can from scratch. Today's breakfast -- when I finally stop farting around and get out of bed -- will probably be egg salad wraps. Made with mayo, zucchini pickle relish and tortillas that we made here at home. (And we grew the zucchini!)
- Mood: cheerful
My preferred way to cool off on a hot day is to dip in the pool. Right now, our pool has a brilliant green algae bloom. I think with all the rain, unless we're prepared to dump massive amounts of chemicals in it, we're just going to have to deal with it. But some algae are harmful (think "red tide") and some are beneficial! There's a hot springs in Iceland where tourists go to slather themselves with a blue-green algae that is supposed to be very good for the skin. I really hate the thoughts of dumping too much chemical into the pool. (We use a chlorine pucks, but I like to avoid shocking it and I insist we keep all the surface algae.) So I figured I'd try my green algae and see.
It turned me bright green!
Haha, just kidding. But seriously, it doesn't seem to have any adverse affects. It is so wonderful to go out, last thing before going to bed at night, and just dip until my body temperature comes right down. It's great for sleeping!
I do love this summer out on the farm, eating zucchini out of my garden (and tomatoes are on the way!). I'm reading a great book called "The Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Pollan. So far, it's super! Very interesting!! I'm learning stuff about corn that I never knew. Did you know that corn cannot propagate itself without assistance?
- Mood: content
"It's time for us to get ourselves in order, to set out and find that place again. Or else we will stay where we are, like that statue of Adam, before they covered his nether parts with water lilies so you wouldn't notice what was missing, lounging around, brainless and dickless, in an Eden that looks less and less like paradise." (Idiot America: How Stupidity Became a Virtue in the Land of the Free, Charles P. Pierce)
The "Adam" statue he refers to is in a "Creation Museum" in Tennessee. !!! Can you believe there is such a thing? Willfully Ignorant creationist parents take their children there for a fun-filled day of dumbing down. Unbelievable! Why parents would want to hobble their children over mythology is a mystery to me.
The book got off to a bit of a slow start -- he introduces us to Ignacius Donnelly as a model of a classic American crank (which he insists is a perfectly fine and American thing to be, kept in its proper place) and to Founding Father and early President James Madison's premonition of the importance of an intelligent, informed citizenry, capable of rational thought, for the great democracy experiment that was the United States to continue to work. From there, he shows us how (oopsie!) we seem to have jumped the tracks. First crankdom became commercialized, and then we turned everything over to a ratings system (including facts -- unpopular facts are no longer true if enough people refuse to believe them), and then to the point in recent years where barking lunatics are running the country. This is apparently how we get a Creation Museum that's actually taken seriously by people, instead of serving as an SNL skit.
There was some interesting background info in spots. He spends a fair bit of time on the phenomenon of "talk radio," and starts with some mid-20th century history of radio. He also gives a glimpse of what was going on behind the scenes in the Terry Schiavo debacle -- possibly one of America's most embarrassing chapters -- stuff CNN and MSNBC wouldn't have covered because it wouldn't have been entertaining enough. He spent a bit of time on the TV show 24 and its apparent impact on the beliefs of US Supreme Court judges and higher-ups in the Bush administration. (Apparently Justice Scalia questioned right here in Canada whether we would have prosecuted Jack Bauer for torture after he "saved" LA from a massive terrorist attack. It was apparently lost on Justice Scalia that it wasn't torture that fended off the catastrophe, but the whim of the screenplay writers! ... Really, this is one of those situations where you have to wonder: is he that stupid? or is he hoping we are? Either way, it's not good!)
The author takes us into the last US presidential election, but I suspect he finished the book before they were out of the primaries. He does cover a bit about Palin, but I was disappointed that he gave Obama a bit of an easy pass. I continue to hold out hope for Obama, but really, I'm not expecting miracles. It will be a miracle if he makes it out of this term in one piece. And even if he does, I suspect he'll go on to serve as a scapegoat for everything from the Great Recession to Global Warming. I never respected the way he bamboozled the American people -- who don't need "hope" and "change"; they need a good swift kick in the ass! -- but I guess you can't get to be POTUS unless you play to the ratings. Still, it leaves a big question mark. Will Obama turn out to be a good guy who just needed to get to where he could make a difference? Or will he be a guy who only thought he could do something if he could just get in there? Or will he turn out to be a garden-variety scoundrel politician who just wants to get in there for his own advantage and that of his cronies. We'll never know until it's all over, I guess.
________________________
I also went looking for Food, Inc. on iTunes and didn't find it there yet. So I rented Fast Food Nation instead. It was quite good and has a stellar cast, including some surprise cameos (Avril Lavigne, Kris Kristofferson, Bruce Willis). I mistakenly thought it was a documentary on the fast food industry, but despite some pretty amazing footage from a huge meat processing plant, it's actually a drama. And funny in spots, although overall sad and disgusting.
AND I found a great site: www.FreeDocumentaries.org ! I watched a couple documentaries there yesterday.
And then I went and made some pickle relish out of zucchini instead of cucumbers. It tasted pretty good warm, so we'll see how it tastes chilled this morning.
Happy Monday!
- Mood:awake
...it's no wonder I have trouble getting into town!
On a sadder note, I was feeling good today after a friend left, downstairs in the kitchen, giving my puppies a treat, when I heard a SMACK! and a woman wailing. I ran out in the backyard to look. I saw a huge commercial dump truck stopped, and behind it, at the corner, a woman and a few others kneeling over some shape on the road. At first, I thought it might be a dog -- but in time, I realized it wasn't a dog. That many cars don't stop when a dog gets hit. Turns out it was a child.
I'm not sure how bad it is (and I pray not too bad). My husband, who was off somewhere else in town when it happened, said that when he came home, he saw the little bicycle trapped under the wheels of the truck. But on a positive note, he saw no blood stains or streaks (... being a former skydiver, he'd look for that sort of thing) and word was that the kid was talking before being taken away by the ambulance.
Evidence at this early point seems to suggest that the kid ran into the truck -- not the other way around. Still, I can't help but think about all the people who barrel through that intersection at well over the speed limit.
Do we really need to drive that fast?? Where the hell are we going in such a hurry???? When I had that apt in Westboro, a couple schoolkids were hit -- and I couldn't help but notice people driving like Mario Andretti on Roosevelt Ave. What's that about?? Really, just because we can go that fast, should we?? I went fast a lot in my life and thoroughly enjoyed it -- taking racing courses, skydiving, even bungee jumping. But there's a time and a place for everything.
We don't really need to drive around small towns and residential neighbourhoods that fast, do we? I mean .... where are we going that we need to get there in such a hurry that it could cost someone a life? Or a lifetime of regret for any one of us?
Profile
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
joyfulc1957- Being joyful in Ottawa
- Joyful Spirit
Syndicate
