Vacation!

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We are off on a trip to Portland, Seaside, Phoenix, and Honolulu. As always, if you will be in any of those cities, hit me up with an e-mail and let’s see if we can get coffee. ladyvioletemail@gmail.com

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Oh, and if you are in Portland and want to borrow my beautiful Pet, please let me know. He’ll be there for a few days by himself while I am in Phoenix visiting my dying grandmother.

He hasn’t had anyone but me to play with him in so long because we live on a tiny island. It would do him good to have a little variety.

He is a switch. 26 years old, with a slim build. Hetero-flexible but mostly straight. Very attentive and lots of fun.

He is up for grabs in Portland July 20th to July 25th.

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An Honest Confession

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A girl in a group I belong to recently told me that I should be the one to organize the next event because “I don’t have trouble dealing with people.”

I am really glad that I come off that way, but it is not something that happened without a TON of work.

I just needed to confess somewhere that I have social anxiety, and that I always have, because the way she said “you don’t have trouble dealing with people” really got to me, and I needed to deal with that somewhere.

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My parents met at a First Edition Dungeons and Dragons quest at Berkley. My mom was the Dungeon Master, and she killed my dad every game. He always had to roll up a new character before they played again. I guess that was her version of flirting.

They were extremely awkward people.

My mom never wore makeup, high-heels, or skirts. She said it was because she was a feminist, but I suspect that it was because she didn’t understand all that stuff, and she didn’t care to learn.

My dad was an engineer. I know they aren’t all obtuse and awkward, but the stereotype that engineers ARE socially awkward comes from people like my dad. He had this laugh like a donkey that always made everyone stare, and he never even noticed that they were staring.

Seriously, it sounded just like a donkey.

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Growing up with parents who bought an isolated farm on purpose to raise us on, and who had no friends, did not help me learn to socialize.

Having a younger sister who was a sociopath as basically my only playmate didn’t help either. She was really frightening. I remember one time when she squeezed a baby chicken until its head came off, and then tossed it aside as if she had done nothing worthy of concern. I was so upset I cried hours in one of my secret hiding places.

In my teens, my parents kicked me out of their house.

I lived on the streets for years, and awful shit happened to me. I was a naive and pretty girl from a small town, so you can take some guesses as to how that worked out for me. If I hadn’t had social anxiety before, the PTSD from being homeless and all that came with that would have ensured that I developed it.

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All the while, I had Grave’s disease, so my body was attacking my thyroid gland. This caused my thyroid to overproduce hormones, and made me live in a constant state of fight-or-flight.

I couldn’t afford healthcare, and anyway, I thought it was all in my head when my heart started racing if I had to deal with a person. It felt like my heart would rise up in my throat and I would sweat and feel light-headed.

I just thought everyone always felt that way, you know? People all talk like they struggle with social stuff, so I always assumed they all had the same panic that I did. When I read the definition of a panic attack in one of my Psych textbooks, I remember being confused and thinking “that’s not normal?!?”

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The thing is; I am fucking stubborn.

So because I am fucking stubborn, I worked in a dungeon called Madam Tracy’s and taught myself to act confident and be a Dominatrix. I went to events and talked to strangers. I joined organizations and groups and made friends.

And because my husband is in the military, I have to keep making new friends, because we move away from the old ones. I have been making new friends constantly my entire life, and sometimes the fear of rejection is just crushing.

It has never gotten easier for me.

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Just a few weeks ago I was hanging out with a new friend that I met through a hiking group I started. She is cute, and smart, and interesting. So naturally I  feel big and dumb and awkward around her. And I remember thinking “I am so glad she can’t tell how freaked out I am. I hope I am not acting weird.” And I always feel that way. All the time, my entire life, for 35 years.

It didn’t stop me from having a promotions company and throwing events, owning an art gallery on the First Friday Art Walk in Phoenix, or being the managing editor of S.L.A.M. Magazine. It didn’t stop me from planning fetish proms, play parties, and camping trips. It didn’t stop me from speaking at conventions in front of rooms full of people.

As I said, I am stubborn.

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But no matter how stubborn I am, I still have social anxiety.

It’s not easy for me. And I know after all these years of practice that it never will be easy, because it’s exactly as bad as it always was.

The moral of the story is: Don’t assume that other people are more confident or more comfortable around people than you are. Just because they don’t talk about how they feel, doesn’t mean that they don’t have feelings.

I am pretty fucked up inside and my nightmares are worse than any horror movie I have ever seen. There are places in my head that I can’t look because I will cry for days. I am glad that I come off as together, friendly, and good at planning. I am glad that people feel like asking me to take charge of events because I am “so good at it.” I am glad that I inspire confidence and motivation in others.

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However, it’s not easy.

I guess if I were to give this story a moral, the moral would be this: Just do the things you are terrified of. Push through the panic attacks and the sweat. Push through the sheer terror and don’t let yourself give up.

It never gets easier on the inside. That much is true. On the inside I am still the little girl hiding in a cupboard from my little sister because she was so scary. I am still the homeless teenager who was hurt too much to feel anything for a long time. And I am still the person who panics and says stupid stuff at inopportune moments in my head. 

However, on the outside, years of public speaking classes and practice have paid off. Outside my own head, I actually manage to convince people that I am cool and confident. Outside my head, I am the girl who stitched up my friends’ head after he got beat up by a gang. I am the girl who kept my calm when they pushed me out on stage in front of thousands of people to do a count down to Midnight at one of my shows on New Year’s. Outside my head I manage to speak at funerals, make friends, and plan events.

So I am living proof that someone who grew up with social anxiety and geeks for parents can still have friends and do stuff. And if I live as much as I possibly can outside of my head, I can even enjoy some of that stuff. And so can you.

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Dating Online and the Community

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The subject of dating has come up a lot in my life lately. You all know by now about the person I love in Arizona who is going through a divorce. I have been struggling to help him find things to be happy about now that he has lost his home and family.

It’s not easy.

His idea for dating was to go back through old flames and see if any of them were still around. I guess that makes sense. When you are hurt, go for the familiar.

Of course when that didn’t go well, I suggested online dating.

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He tried valiantly to meet girls off several sites, but none were very interested in talking abut ideas, and instead wanted to talk about people and events. If you don’t get the joke there, look up Eleanor Roosevelt.

So thus far, he has met with limited success and this has made him decide to give up on dating for the time being. I tried in vein to change his mind, and tried to talk about the virtues of getting to know new and exciting people, and how wonderful falling in love is.

Then I logged into Fetlife and I remembered that he’s right.

Dating does suck.

My bad.

I was wrong.

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Let me tell you about the two new prizewinning jerks who sent me messaged while I was trying to sell the idea that dating is wonderful.

Jerk Number One:

This guy messaged me with “Wat up you down to fuk?”

Let that sentence (bad grammar and spelling and all) sink in to your brain, and then realize that this is not a person I knew. This is a random stranger. I guess he’s new to the area (that’s literally all his profile said) and he doesn’t realize that it’s a small pond, and you can’t afford to be an asshat to even one person.

I tried to be polite, and respond by saying that he would benefit from having a profile picture and some information about himself. I went on to suggest that he should maybe treat women like people and start with “Hello.”

(No really, you can treat women like people. They even actually are people. I know that is hard for some folks to grasp, but it’s true!)

Naturally, Jerk Number One wrote back:

“Ur ugy anyway u fat cunt.”

So that’s one more swing and miss for me trying to civilize the masses one guy at a time. I honestly don’t know why I try. I should just ignore them like most girls do.

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P.S. It’s hilarious how some guys whine “I message girls all the time and they never respond.” See? That’s how you know they are a jerk. They send nasty messages all the time and women ignore them because most women don’t respond to abusive dickwads. If they were nice guys, women would respond. That’s how that works. 

Jerk Number Two:

This guy actually started out perfectly nice, and said he’d like to play scenes with me.

Normally, anyone who will talk to me nicely gets coffee at least. However, I noted that he was 65.

Now, I was molested as a child, so I have a thing about not dating older guys (and this one is ten years older than my father!) I am just not okay with it. If there are girls out there looking for a “daddy to spoil them” then more power to them! You do you. But I personally don’t do older guys.

I very nicely said that I am on the younger side of the 30’s (as indicted by my profile) and that I am uncomfortable dating older men. I offered to get coffee anyway, saying I am always happy to meet new people.

So what does this guy do? He writes back telling me that we’re all the same on the inside and that age doesn’t matter. Apparently it’s all a state of mind and I am a judgmental bitch.

Now, I doubt that he would have responded kindly to a 90-year-old woman hitting on him. So, I would submit that he is likely judgmental and prejudice about age himself; but only when the woman is the older party.

So that reminded me how much I hate dating, and how sometimes creepers hang out on fetlife.com these days just harass women. I hate that. I like to think of the kink community as a bunch of really nice people who all want to at least be friends. I like to think of us as inclusive and connected as a group by common weirdness.

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And yet, so often lately it seems like real world interactions ruin my hopeful views.

What happened?

I have been part of the kink community for 20 years and I never had to deal with the type of assholes that are around these days. Is this just how men are now? Have they all become total losers?

I mean, I never used to get harassed this much. I used to meet nice people through fetlife.com. Hell, I met my husband (who is my very favorite Pet) through fetlife.com! I feel like nearly every message I used to get resulted in a friendship, and I still think fondly of all those amazing people I used to meet around munches and fetlife and fetish proms.

And yet, lately it’s nothing but penis pictures and guys saying “Wut up slut.”

It’s like the quality of available males has diminished in the last decade to the point that there simply are not any more worth talking to. I haven’t met anyone worth my time in ages, and that is disappointing.

So maybe the person I love in Arizona is right. Maybe it’s time to give up on dating for awhile. At least I will always have my beloved Pet, so that is something!

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Happy Halloween!

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I don’t normally post personal pictures on my Magically Delicious Super Slut blog, but I just love Halloween so much that I wanted to share pictures from last Halloween with you.

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This year, I am in on vacation for Halloween.

 

But while I am away, please enjoy my Mummy Meatballs, Candy Corn Cookies, and even a chicken from “50 Shades of Chicken” (A book my friend gave me.)

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This one is tied up with bacon! It was totally amazing, although I definitely had help with the chicken. (The rest I did on my own.)

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It was a great party, and the first time I actually made food of any kind specially for Halloween.

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I’m not really the sort of person who sees a thing in a magazine and then tries it, but in this case, I did.

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Halloween is my very favorite holiday, so I hope all you kinky kids have something special planned.

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I can’t wait to come home in November and tell you about my adventures on my trip!


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I Am Not A Hooker

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Recently a very rude man named Fabian Riley sent me this message:

“Hello, i read your review on club Desire. I would like you to accompany my girlfriend (Korean) and I (American).”

That is an exact quote of the entire message.

So first: Do not slip in that your girlfriend is Korea when talking to a white girl who has lived in Korea.

Yes, we know your girlfriend is Korean. We know you talk shit about white women who are “too bitchy” and you love your submissive and obedient Korean. We get it.

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White guys mostly act like all Korean women are the same, too. You hear them say things like “They all look the same and they’re all quiet, so who cares which one you end up with.”

I lived in Korea for three years, and I never got over the total lack of respect that most white American men had for Korean women, and how openly they talked shit about white girls as well. The judgement, the rudeness, and the piggish attitudes sickened me.

Second, I like the presumption that I would have any desire at all to spend any time with some twerp who couldn’t even bother to compose a well-written message to me.

My first response was the obvious:

“I wrote a review of the club when I went with my husband. I am not a hooker.”

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Even when I worked as a professional dominatrix back in the day, I never had sex with clients. I hit them. That is what a dominatrix does.

So yes, I have been paid to hit people.

But no,  you can not pay me for sex.

Naturally he then said that he actually expected me to want to go to the club with him and his (Korean) girlfriend just because I am a magically delicious super slut.

I have said this before and I will say it again:

I am a slut. I am actually an amazing and magically delicious slut. But I am not YOUR slut. I don’t owe YOU sex just because I like sex. I chose who I have sex with, and it is absolutely only people who treat me with respect.

It is insane to think that you could send a disrespectful message about how you expect me to want to go to a sex club with you (American) and your (Korean) girlfriend as though I should somehow feel honored that you would ask.

No.

I choose who I fuck, and I only fuck people who respect me. When I do, I assure you that it is mind-blowing and earth-shattering and you will never forget it. I am that good.
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But only with people that I choose!

I am so sick on men acting like I owe them my attention. I don’t owe you anything at all. I write this blog about all the sex and fun that I have, but that doesn’t mean I owe YOU sex or fun. You haven’t earned it. YOU are just some guy who can’t see how sexist, racist, and shitty you actually are.

When I declined and said there was no reason for me to want to go, he actually told me “Oh yes, I forget some people are not as much of a free spirit as me.”

Yup.

He actually said that.

To me.

I swear, some people are so worthless that you just have to write a blog about it, aren’t they? Way to go Fabian (what a douchy name.) You are totally one of those people worthless enough to deserve a written and public smackdown.

Ladies beware if he messages YOU next!

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Just to Pester You

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I am sure you aren’t that interested.

Everyone hates that one friend who writes books and then wants you to care that they wrote books.

I get that.

But I did write some books… and I would like you to care.

You can find Book One here, and Book Two here.

Book Three should be out soon, and then the trilogy will be done.
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I even started a blog to write about the experience of writing novels, because I thought it might help with the publicity thing.

I mean, being an author isn’t a way to get rich.

But it would be cool if you could read one the books. Or at least, pretend you read them and encourage me.

I could use the help.

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