The whole Sugardaddy thing. I can’t do it. I can’t even think about it. Taryn can have em all cuz, well, wow. Sorry, let me gather myself and figure out what just happened.
My inconvenient truth is that I just don’t feel right about looking for someone based upon their income. My greed can’t overcome the icky feeling in my tummy every time I look at emails. Its just not for me. For other people, but not for me. If I want companionship, or something to do that bad, I can do like the rest of America and sign up for an actual dating website that hooks you up with someone based on personality and likes and not how much someone is willing to spend on me a month. I have a fucking job. God gave me two arms and two legs just like everybody else on this earth, and there is nothing stopping me from going out and getting shit for myself by myself. Even if its stripping, at least I’m out and “providing a service,” not just sitting behind my computer sending kisses to men I don’t like and never could simply on the merits of the website. I’m sure there are some very nice men there too, but I don’t think these men are for me. Presents always stress me out, because my twisted little brain associates spoiling with buying off, don’t try and buy me off man! I don’t even like guys to buy me drinks, who am I kidding thinking that I could actually have a sugardaddy. ME? There must be some underlying thing here, something deeper. Because I don’t do weird things and sign up for shit like this ever. Its never been me. And it never will.
I feel like I’ve slowly transforming into this little monster who spends and consumes and eats and shits and fucks and none of it every satisfies so why perform such meaningless rituals. In the name of comfort? When did this whole thing start I wonder? When did the NEED develop? Because today, I found myself checking the sugardaddy email inbox, and almost writing someone back, almost committing to hello, but then pushing the close button each time. This last time, frantically scrolling over my menu bar, gotta find something else to fucking look at I feel sick in my stomach. Blep. So here I am. Writing to you. And I’m already starting to feel better. I think I am going to delete my account entirely. I would rather work 30 hour days 40 days a month than demand someone take care of me. Too much pride shiny little penny.
So I am going to dance tonight at Cheetahs. If you want a lapdance, then I will take your money. Sure. No problem. Come on in. And to any sugardaddys, keep on keepin on man. It will never be enough. You can’t feed the beast inside of her. No amount of your money or work will ever make her just love you. it will just make her more thirsty. and when shes had her fill she will wander away, coming back only to refuel her fire. more more more more more more more more more more. and if you are okay with that then I am okay with that, but a beautiful woman will love you for you, only you, and the you can both enjoy your sugaryness, but man, no rose colored shades can make me see this in a pretty way. It just makes me feel icky, it makes me feel like I don’t like people, like the greed will just grow and grow and grow and more and more and more.
Well, I don’t need more. I don’t even want more.

I don’t know that I have ever spent thanksgiving away from my mom. She is my best best best friend, and on all our holidays, we eat like pigs, drinks like kings, and dance like we never have before. ANd I had a wonderful holiday with my little Taryn and her wild Thomas family, but I miss my mom. I miss her laughing, yelling at me to get my dirty hands out of the potato pot. I miss her telling me that I shouldn’t have eaten that 7th slice of pie, and she knew it would be the one to hurt my stomach. I miss her getting a little too drunk, and hugging me cuz she misses me. I miss all the gay family pictures that we take in the backyard, the loud christmas carol music that she breaks out every time this year.
I miss my family.
Although your friends family could be the best replacement for your own, there is nothing like the comfort of people who are required to love you, even after you’ve had too much eggnog. There is nothing like knowing that you can say something so politically incorrect that someone squirts milk out his nose, and instead of there being a terrible silence, there is laughter, and tears of utter joy. The simple and honest beauty in the foundation of your family can make or break a holiday. My family has managed to put all our ugly little secrets out on the table to be dealt with up front, and now, there is nothing to hide except for the notch on my belt after dinner.
I miss my mama. my sister. my brother. even my dad a little. (but don’t tell him that…)
I am thankful for every moment that I get to spend with them. I am thankful for every moment I get to spend on earth. I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life who have left “footprints on my heart.”
Happy Turkey day folks…..
Hopefully, your bellies are full, and your hearts are satisfied.

Taryn found this website that, you know, hooks you up with the sugar daddy of your dreams. SO FUNNY. Crazy. Wild. So I decided to make a profile.
???
Well, first of all, its not a prosti site, so you don’t have to worry about that. Second, I never like the guys I date to spoil me. It makes me feel funny. That being said, perhaps I’d feel differently about a man whose soul purpose is to spoil me rotten, not to date me. Just to please me. Kind of like a nice fun slave kinda thing. A more cheerleader shaded bdsm thing sans sex. What an interesting concept. I have no idea what will come of this thing, but before any body asks me, yes. If you want to spoil me you may…..ahahahahahhahaha.

Oh lord, I’m feelin’ good tonight. Not quite sure why, I’m broke as a joke, (there are funds, but they are purposely not available without emotional and financial penalty) so two days before Thanksgiving, I’m heading to the titty bar to shake my tail feather, in the words Lexi, a dear friend of mine from years ago. Figure I can use any extra bucks I can make. And its a great little workout, both on the body and the hustle,……
actually, lets call the club first and see if I can even dance…..

b
u r
n

Okay, well, that is that. Good thing I got a bottle of wine last night, ease the pain of no holiday shopping the day where EVERYBODY AND THEIR MA’s goes holiday shopping. Man. Boooh. Boooh slow periods, and my cleverness of saving my money in places where I can’t touch it WHYHAVEMONEYIFICANTSPENDITWHENEVERYBODYELSESAYSIHAVETOSPENDITONTHEMOSTCRAZYDAYSTARTEARLYYEARSOFTRAINING
THANKYOUMOTHER.

This is turning into such a stressful event. Why is it that every holiday season, we all go absolutely insane and try to spend every single dime we ever made just to prove to people around us that we love them and cherish them and I think this year I might just make all my gifts. From the heart style, no need to put myself in the red to show my love. Just takes a little more thought. A little more preparation. perhaps, a trip to…..
MICHAELS
NO! that is not the answer. The answer isn’t to go shopping at a different store. Just because it isn’t the mall doesn’t mean it isn’t endthisendless shopping. I keep seeing that sticker everywhere, fucking everywhere. Hippies.
I’m gonna vino out, and assure that I don’t go anywhere or spend any money. Wine+pot=falling asleep on the couch

So for the past ten days, I have been slowly moving items from the old casa to the new. It’s this excellent filtering process, makes me go through every little fucking thing and make a decision. I saw this lady on Oprah (yeah, I was a little bored one day), and she hoarded things. EVERYTHING. Her house was filled to the ceiling with useless crap, that she just couldn’t let go. Until Oprah. Oprah hired some fancy clutter management dude to come in and not only sort through the mess, but sort through her emotions that led to creating the mess. And did she have some things to work through.
My house isn’t nearly as cluttered, but I have found some boxes of crap that I wasn’t willing to go through, my underlying fear of commitment always shining through in the most simple forms, and I went through them. It wasn’t anything but old sweatshirts from random men that come in and leave my life. Most are snugs I think, because they all had weed references, or were about booze, and even one from an old time associate, Ben Pot, the most famous stoner known to man until he went off that yayo, surfaced advertising his favorite shop, Orchard growers. Funny. So I gave em to salvation army. Then I decided to go through the rest of my clothes.
I found things I fit into when I was on drugs, and folks, I don’t ever think I will be a 0 again. I don’t think any real woman is. I think curves are such a necessary part to a womans femininity, without those hips, well, you are just a man. So I put em in the salvation army pile. Along with some little ass shirt. And another pair of unbelievably small pants. I even tried a pair on…..got to my knee. FUck this.
In the same day, I decided to take a run.
For absolutely no reason at all. hahahahahhhhh
Sunday football is calling. I shall answer, and return

Defeated. Rough. What the fuck is Culpepper doing? Is he a quarterback or what?

As I was saying, a run is exactly what I needed. Sometimes it hurts my back, but then stretch. And its better. At least a little.

So excited for Dexter tonight. Fucking Lila. Psycho bitch. Trying to play with my dexter. I wish I could be dexter for a day. Just one day.

a choppy chop chop? a cutty cut cut? What did I do you ask? I got a hair cut. A little trim, and some choppy things called bangs. Not like a full set of bangs, but definately a little bang action. The whole day I’ve been shaking my head at people, well no not intentionally at people, I’ll just happen to be midsentence when the tickling of the eyes begins and poof of air to fluff em outta the way and a good ol fashion head shake. Of course by the evening, my brain feels a little funny from all the shaking and its time to get used to the tickle. I love new hair.
A new haircut can make or break your month. If you’re lucky, then you’ve got some tight chick who hooks your shit up like my girl hooked mine. I think if you ultimately believe in your hairdressers abilities, you should come to them with very little ideas. Be an open canvas. That way artistic ability can shine through as it should. A shitting rainbows and barfing sunshine kinda satisfied customer. Imagine having that kind of power. The ability to see a more refined and beautiful vision of someone and then be able create that with a pair of shears.
That being said I feel great. Fantastic. Totally renewed. I’m thinking about what classes to take, and not quite sure what direction I’m going. Before it was business admin. Now? Not a fucking chance in hell. I’m just not interested. Why pursue an education in something that doesn’t make you want to stay up all night reading about? Accounting classes? Fuck me. Seriously. Cuz that’s the only thing that’s gonna make it interesting, me bring my hitachi and lighting up the class. A row of chairs vibrating and me right by an outlet. Hahahahaha. Oh but seriously now folks, we all know I can’t masturbate in class. Not even in your dreams. In a little skirt. With socks. and a white button up…..little pantiehhhhhhs……….WHAT AM I DOING?
I’m gonna take a dance class. Figure it will be an easy class to go to, and then once on campus, POW! Hittem with another class. HAHA, already there why the heck not? So what? I need to get my transcripts from state so I don’t have to take shit all over again. Same ol song and dancesameolsonganddance my friend. I’m feeling funny tonight. Different. The hair. gotta be the hair. And the new pad! OH MAN I”M THE LUCKIEST GIRL ON THE PLANET. Really, the tightest pad, a fantastic job, new horizons, and a great fucking haircut.
Now if only I had someone to snuggle. Guess we can’t ask for everything right?
Nightey nighty folkels oxoxoxox

So, I decided it would be fun to dress up as a pornstar, (but not actually be one) on the eve of the great punkin. Mostly due to my last minute decision to go out, my costume consisted of my little pink plaid schoolgirl outfit, but with some serious hooker boots, fishnets, and a carefree attitude. I put some pot pasties on my nipples just in case I drank a bit too much and they fell out, hahaha, fortunately, none of that happened. Actually, we spent most our time hopping from dive bar to dive bar, me and like 8 dudes, oh yes, 8 of em, pretty funny. There was this cute little girl Liz hanging out too, with my buddy Nubs. She was a little cutie pie. It was a good time over all. Nothing spectacular, at home in bed by 3am, definately no sexy time, but crazy enough the only drink or treaters that hit on me were ladies! Made my night! I got so many grabs, the cheeks shown more love than ever.
Slept all yesterday. Well, not really, just felt like it. Felt like I slept while I was awake. That vague fuzzy dream quality of a day, where you don’t really accomplish anything, but something big always happens. Like I got myself into a new pad down here, some beachfront condo, waves crashing in my ears all night. AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH what?
yes. Yestereday was a great day because I put a deposit down on a place that I am absolutely in love with, and its in the most perfect area, and I think I may just stay put for a moment. In fact, this is how San Diego put I am talking about staying.

I signed up for school. Yup. I did it. I’m on this whole crazy rush. A life changing planetary shift of sorts. I’m not gonna quit doing porn any less, but I realized I can only do so much yoga. The whole reason I got into the adult industry was to pay for my education and have time to chill, study, learn and grow. The growth comes from learning. I miss new things. I miss feeling challenged. I want to go and see things I’ve never seen, and think things I’ve never thought, and I had a goal at one point. I had this focus, even if it was just to make my parents or grandpa happy. Now I realize that I miss it.
I miss reading textbooks. The community that surrounds you. I think its time. Maybe that was why I moved back down here in the first place, because there was a large pit in my soul, a hunger. I desire to finish what I started, and maybe take it further than I’d ever imagined?
I feel like the day is sunnier. LIke all the blinds in my home have been opened. Thank you all for sharing this moment with me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do really, but I will.