Woo boy, it has been quite a month.
Things for me have been changing so quickly it's a little hard to keep up with myself. I mentioned moving in my last post, but didn't even scratch the surface of what that's meant for me. Being in a new place has given me not only new roommates but also new goals for my immediate future and desires in my relationships.
I moved to New York City just over a year ago to live with one of my best friends, a woman with whom I've had a long and complicated relationship. (I've only alluded to it here). Over the five years we've known each other, we've had sex a couple of times, we've stopped being friends for six months, we've each fallen in love with and then been rejected by the other, I've been more livid with her than I'd been with anyone in years, and we've been at times inseparable. She's someone I deeply care about, but she's also a person who is very hard to love. She invites chaos into her life, and supporting her through that treads dangerously close to enabling.
Finally moving out of our apartment felt like a break up; while our relationship hasn't been sexual since we've lived together, I've realized it was essentially romantic. I was committed to her, and to a degree of taking care of her. In describing the situation to my friends and lovers, I've sounded like a chick lit divorce book. "The reasons we were together just aren't there anymore, and even though we care for each other, we've got too much baggage to work through."
I've made a very serious effort to be compassionate and supportive with her through my departure. I want to stay friends now that we're apart, but it's been a big transition. I suspect it's been hard for both of us.
I'm also miles happier in my new place and with my roommates than I've been at home for a very long time. It was difficult for me to feel safe or serene in the apartment I just left. (Example of why: A friend of my roommate's who was there nearly all the time cut her with broken glass and stole $500 from me.) It's tough for me to feel comfortable in my parents' house. And a college dorm is only partly a home. This, I think, is the first time I've felt truly comfortable in my space, like I belong there and it belongs to me.
It's huge. Without feeling stressed at home and drained by a dysfunctional relationship, I've got so much more emotional energy. Now I can devote myself to my own growth, to deepening my relationships (which I'll write more about in my next post), and to thinking about and planning what I'm doing with this here life of mine. And of course to writing here, which I'm going to try and do more of now that I'm settled.
Websites I Love
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Showing posts with label New York City. Show all posts
Moving
This is a very brief post to note that, in addition to my recently very busy social life, I'm moving across town and therefore spending every waking minute either packing, making a subway run up to the new place with full suitcases, cleaning one or the other of the apartments, or trying to get some sleep.
Which is why I haven't posted here in a bit. I've got lots to write about, many thoughts about things that are happening in my life and the world at large, but hardly a free second in which to actually sit and write them.
When I'm done moving (give it another week, maybe?) expect a couple of fun sex toy review posts, some thoughts on Dark Odyssey, new insights on sacred spirituality, discussions of roommate boundaries and personal responsibility, and maybe an update or two on my kink life.
In other news, my cat is standing on the bit of the toilet seat behind me while I'm peeing. Cats are weird.
Which is why I haven't posted here in a bit. I've got lots to write about, many thoughts about things that are happening in my life and the world at large, but hardly a free second in which to actually sit and write them.
When I'm done moving (give it another week, maybe?) expect a couple of fun sex toy review posts, some thoughts on Dark Odyssey, new insights on sacred spirituality, discussions of roommate boundaries and personal responsibility, and maybe an update or two on my kink life.
In other news, my cat is standing on the bit of the toilet seat behind me while I'm peeing. Cats are weird.
Play Piercing
When I was 18, or maybe 19, I went to a house party put on by San Francisco Sex Information. I had just figured out that I wanted to be involved with sex education and I was doing everything I could to meet people who worked with sex in a serious way. When my contact invited me to the party to talk about how I could help at the hotline, it seemed like a perfect opportunity.
Predictably, this party was filled with sex positive, polyamorous-or-close, kinky types. It was a group of people firmly entrenched in the community that today I'm a part of but was then just finding for the first time. I did what I like to do at house parties, flitting from one conversation and new acquaintance to the next. It was so novel to be around people who had a vested interest in sexuality.
Novel, and a little shocking. Someone pulled out an impact toy at one point that was shaped like a metal ruler, but thicker. There were a bunch of people passing it around and trying it out on themselves and each other, talking about how thuddy it was, versus stingy like a regular ruler. That was the first time I encountered those terms. There was a computer in the living room, and the screen saver showed photos of women in various stages of bondage and torture. I was sitting next to a woman and her play partner when they started talking about knife play and prostitution role playing. As cool and collected as I wanted to seem, I'm pretty sure my eyes were as big as saucers.
At that point, I was only theoretically interested in BDSM. I knew I had fantasies of being tied up, and I knew I liked spanking. That was about it. I had an open relationship with my boyfriend, but neither of us had yet dated anyone else. I'd never slept with a woman, though I knew I wanted to. I'd met kinky people, but my impression of them had largely been related to the fact that they were much older men leching in my general direction. I was pretty shy about it all.
I was telling a story to one of my new acquaintances (I don't remember who) about how I'd worked at the Renaissance Faire on my 18th birthday and a friend, to accentuate how popular this made me, gave me a pin to wear that said "Legal" on it. My new, kinky, poly party friend said "I bet you'd look great wearing just that pin and nothing else."
I was taken aback by this. The memory is fuzzy, but I might've had to ask him to explain what he meant, that the pin would be piercing my skin. I'd told him earlier in conversation that I was possibly interested in BDSM but hadn't explored much. I know he was trying to get a rise out of me. I said something along the lines of "Oh, I don't know about that," and tucked the idea away on my list of Really Kinky Shit that was probably only for special, experienced, and rare Heavy Players.
Fast forward to the other night, September in New York City. I did my first play piercing scene in the basement of the local BDSM club, tied topless to a bondage table and ignoring the people standing around to watch. Today I'm feeling the itch as the puncture marks from the needles and staples heal and I'm enjoying the bruises on other parts of my body from the rest of the play that we did.
It's funny how far we can come in the space of five years.
Predictably, this party was filled with sex positive, polyamorous-or-close, kinky types. It was a group of people firmly entrenched in the community that today I'm a part of but was then just finding for the first time. I did what I like to do at house parties, flitting from one conversation and new acquaintance to the next. It was so novel to be around people who had a vested interest in sexuality.
Novel, and a little shocking. Someone pulled out an impact toy at one point that was shaped like a metal ruler, but thicker. There were a bunch of people passing it around and trying it out on themselves and each other, talking about how thuddy it was, versus stingy like a regular ruler. That was the first time I encountered those terms. There was a computer in the living room, and the screen saver showed photos of women in various stages of bondage and torture. I was sitting next to a woman and her play partner when they started talking about knife play and prostitution role playing. As cool and collected as I wanted to seem, I'm pretty sure my eyes were as big as saucers.
At that point, I was only theoretically interested in BDSM. I knew I had fantasies of being tied up, and I knew I liked spanking. That was about it. I had an open relationship with my boyfriend, but neither of us had yet dated anyone else. I'd never slept with a woman, though I knew I wanted to. I'd met kinky people, but my impression of them had largely been related to the fact that they were much older men leching in my general direction. I was pretty shy about it all.
I was telling a story to one of my new acquaintances (I don't remember who) about how I'd worked at the Renaissance Faire on my 18th birthday and a friend, to accentuate how popular this made me, gave me a pin to wear that said "Legal" on it. My new, kinky, poly party friend said "I bet you'd look great wearing just that pin and nothing else."
I was taken aback by this. The memory is fuzzy, but I might've had to ask him to explain what he meant, that the pin would be piercing my skin. I'd told him earlier in conversation that I was possibly interested in BDSM but hadn't explored much. I know he was trying to get a rise out of me. I said something along the lines of "Oh, I don't know about that," and tucked the idea away on my list of Really Kinky Shit that was probably only for special, experienced, and rare Heavy Players.
Fast forward to the other night, September in New York City. I did my first play piercing scene in the basement of the local BDSM club, tied topless to a bondage table and ignoring the people standing around to watch. Today I'm feeling the itch as the puncture marks from the needles and staples heal and I'm enjoying the bruises on other parts of my body from the rest of the play that we did.
It's funny how far we can come in the space of five years.
Insatiable
I found the poly community in New York.
Finally!
Of course, what this means is that I've been having a lot more sex lately than I had been in the previous months. It took me a good long time to find a group of people who are all friends and mostly seem to approach sex in the way that I like--respectfully, playfully, and affectionately. But find them I did.
The big bummer of it, though, is that this rediscovered sexual activity has not resulted in that much more sexual or existential satisfaction. It seems that the more sex I get, the more sex I want. I've been leaving bedrooms feeling happy that I just had fun, but not satiated in the least.
One reason for this is that everyone I've been playing with lately is a new partner. They don't know yet the little tricks that make my body work. (Although some have had a faster learning curve than others.) I haven't had a chance yet to communicate about all the things I want, like at least two orgasms in a session (because one really just gets me going), or the occasional scheduled Day o' Sex.
Speaking of which, there also just hasn't been time to devote to having sex the way that I like. My favorite play dates last at least a couple of hours. I like to be languid and absorbed in my fucking and touching and kissing and yum. Everyone in New York is so busy and there's so much here to do that it's hard to find overlapping time in our schedules to go at it like nothing else matters.
So there's all that.
I know, though, that the biggest reason I'm not satisfied is that I haven't yet made the emotional connection I'm looking for. There are a couple of new partners that I really like, or at least think so far that I could really like, but it's just not there yet. I've only been "on the market" for a few weeks. Not enough time to fall in love.
And as much as I love casual sex, as much as I always want new and exciting people and activities in my life, the best sex is always with the people who I love. There's nothing like actually making love, feeling a deep connection with someone on a soul level as we touch each other with our bodies. I just can't get that from someone I barely know, and I can't force it to grow in any way except its own time.
I suppose I'll just have to follow the advice of that old song. I "can't hurry love" and I "just have to wait." At least I'll be having fun in the meantime.
Finally!
Of course, what this means is that I've been having a lot more sex lately than I had been in the previous months. It took me a good long time to find a group of people who are all friends and mostly seem to approach sex in the way that I like--respectfully, playfully, and affectionately. But find them I did.
The big bummer of it, though, is that this rediscovered sexual activity has not resulted in that much more sexual or existential satisfaction. It seems that the more sex I get, the more sex I want. I've been leaving bedrooms feeling happy that I just had fun, but not satiated in the least.
One reason for this is that everyone I've been playing with lately is a new partner. They don't know yet the little tricks that make my body work. (Although some have had a faster learning curve than others.) I haven't had a chance yet to communicate about all the things I want, like at least two orgasms in a session (because one really just gets me going), or the occasional scheduled Day o' Sex.
Speaking of which, there also just hasn't been time to devote to having sex the way that I like. My favorite play dates last at least a couple of hours. I like to be languid and absorbed in my fucking and touching and kissing and yum. Everyone in New York is so busy and there's so much here to do that it's hard to find overlapping time in our schedules to go at it like nothing else matters.
So there's all that.
I know, though, that the biggest reason I'm not satisfied is that I haven't yet made the emotional connection I'm looking for. There are a couple of new partners that I really like, or at least think so far that I could really like, but it's just not there yet. I've only been "on the market" for a few weeks. Not enough time to fall in love.
And as much as I love casual sex, as much as I always want new and exciting people and activities in my life, the best sex is always with the people who I love. There's nothing like actually making love, feeling a deep connection with someone on a soul level as we touch each other with our bodies. I just can't get that from someone I barely know, and I can't force it to grow in any way except its own time.
I suppose I'll just have to follow the advice of that old song. I "can't hurry love" and I "just have to wait." At least I'll be having fun in the meantime.
Contrite, Contrite
So this is an extremely rapid-fire post from work to just prostrate myself a little bit for not posting. I spilled water on my computer and effectively killed it about a week and a half ago; until I get used to the idea of making blog posts on my iphone, I probably won't be posting much for a while.
I've also been blindingly busy with new jobs (two sex toy shops!), more independent domming clients (yay money and entertainment!), and slowly getting my life together here. I'm maybe, really this time, settling into New York and starting to feel safer here. Which is kinda nice. It also just didn't leave me much energy for writing.
So I'm going to try and do better in the coming months, at least after I figure out some computer solution. And I'll make sure there are spankings in my future for being such a bad blogger. Oh, dear!
I've also been blindingly busy with new jobs (two sex toy shops!), more independent domming clients (yay money and entertainment!), and slowly getting my life together here. I'm maybe, really this time, settling into New York and starting to feel safer here. Which is kinda nice. It also just didn't leave me much energy for writing.
So I'm going to try and do better in the coming months, at least after I figure out some computer solution. And I'll make sure there are spankings in my future for being such a bad blogger. Oh, dear!
Awesome Mentoring Work and Upcoming Apprenticeship
So, in life developments of our intrepid aspiring sex educator (i.e. me), I've been mentoring with NYC-based sex educator Amy Jo Goddard. I first encountered her when she gave a talk on the "happy and healthy" vulva to the women's group at my college, and recently got to start working with her after she put out a call for mentees in a teleclass on how to be a sex educator.
The best part about this is that I get to participate in the major class she's scheduled for March, which is the culmination of her 15 years as a sex educator. The extended workshop is called the Women's Sexuality Empowerment Apprenticeship, and it'll be a two-month weekly class where I get to sit in a room with other women and learn deeply about our bodies and our sexualities. It's been a while since I've been in women-only spaces, and I'm very much looking forward to it. (I'll put more info on the class below for any NYC-area folks who might be interested or know someone who would be.)
It's really exciting to get to learn from a woman who so clearly does what I want to be doing. She's got her Master's in Human Sexuality, she's been teaching about sexuality to people of all ages for fifteen years, she's worked in colleges and medical schools. She writes, she's directed a movie, she's done performance art. I couldn't really ask for a better mentor.
If only I could find a steady source of livable income, my life would be pretty damn awesome right now. I'll work on that, but until then, I'm going to live it up on savings and do my best to appreciate what I've got.
The best part about this is that I get to participate in the major class she's scheduled for March, which is the culmination of her 15 years as a sex educator. The extended workshop is called the Women's Sexuality Empowerment Apprenticeship, and it'll be a two-month weekly class where I get to sit in a room with other women and learn deeply about our bodies and our sexualities. It's been a while since I've been in women-only spaces, and I'm very much looking forward to it. (I'll put more info on the class below for any NYC-area folks who might be interested or know someone who would be.)
It's really exciting to get to learn from a woman who so clearly does what I want to be doing. She's got her Master's in Human Sexuality, she's been teaching about sexuality to people of all ages for fifteen years, she's worked in colleges and medical schools. She writes, she's directed a movie, she's done performance art. I couldn't really ask for a better mentor.
If only I could find a steady source of livable income, my life would be pretty damn awesome right now. I'll work on that, but until then, I'm going to live it up on savings and do my best to appreciate what I've got.
Women's Sexuality Empowerment Apprenticeship
Are you ready to own your sexuality, to reclaim it, heal it and celebrate it?
Women need a safe space in which to heal, explore, examine and learn about their sexuality. In this sex-positive space, women will be able to do the deep work on their sexual selves that can empower and affect every aspect of their being.
This apprenticeship will be a combination of deep work on the sexual self through discussion, coaching and self-exploration; examination of our sexual history and patterns; and education about sexuality and the sexual body. It will involve homework in between classes, allow participants to develop sexual/relational skills through guided exercises, push boundaries, and ask that people bring their whole selves to the process. It is a rare opportunity to dive deeply into the study and development of our own sexual selves. Women of all sexual orientations and backgrounds are welcome.
If you are interested and want to find out more, please contact Amy Jo about your free 30-minute consultation to see if it's right for you. Space is limited for this apprenticeship so act quickly. I also suggest you attend one of the free informational sessions (March 11th at noon and March 18th at 8pm) to get more detailed information about the program.
DATES
The class will be held on Tuesday nights between March 23 and May 25th from 6:30pm-10pm and all day (9:30am-6pm) on Saturdays April 3rd, April 17th, and May 1st.
LOCATION
Nurture's Path, 1133 Broadway, Suite 1020, Manhattan
http://www.nurturespath.com/
COST
Cost for apprenticeship and materials: $1,095
$300 deposit required to hold your slot.
Payment plans are available.
Student discounts also available.
CONTACT
For more information, to set up a consultation, or to register please contact:
amyjo@amyjogoddard.com
718.974.6554
http://www.amyjogoddard.com
Resolution
I don't really make New Year's Resolutions, but one of those times when I take stock of my life and make some decisions about how I want to change it happened to fall at the beginning of the year this time.
I've been living in New York City for a little over five months now, and it took me a while to find any kind of comfort zone here. This is not an easy city, and it's huge and overwhelming and not always that friendly. The people are actually friendly, but they're also busy and absorbed with their own lives.
A couple of weeks into January, I had a meltdown at work. I'd been canvassing full time since September, despite my plan to use it as a New York starter while I found another job. I had recently quit the dungeon and then quit sex work altogether. I was trying to raise money for the ASPCA, which is a good cause but not one I especially give two shits about. I felt like I'd gotten away from all the things I wanted to focus on in my life.
So I left work early that day. I took the rest of the week off. I read Can I Wear My Nose Ring to the Interview?
, put together a plan for a job search, and cut my work hours down to part time. I went and got myself an apprenticeship with an awesome sex educator who's going to let me take her intensive women's sexuality workshop for free and be a mentor to me. I got back to what it is I want to be doing.
I guess what that means is that my resolution is to actually do all the things I've been wanting to do, the things that are the reasons I moved to New York. I'm going to events at Babeland and kinky events and poly events and I'm getting back into that community, except in a new city this time. I'm dating again, ending the celibate period I gave myself. I'm blogging again! (In case you didn't notice.) I'm just back to my usual self and my usual pursuits.
It feels really good. Maybe I'll try this resolution thing again next year.
I've been living in New York City for a little over five months now, and it took me a while to find any kind of comfort zone here. This is not an easy city, and it's huge and overwhelming and not always that friendly. The people are actually friendly, but they're also busy and absorbed with their own lives.
A couple of weeks into January, I had a meltdown at work. I'd been canvassing full time since September, despite my plan to use it as a New York starter while I found another job. I had recently quit the dungeon and then quit sex work altogether. I was trying to raise money for the ASPCA, which is a good cause but not one I especially give two shits about. I felt like I'd gotten away from all the things I wanted to focus on in my life.
So I left work early that day. I took the rest of the week off. I read Can I Wear My Nose Ring to the Interview?
, put together a plan for a job search, and cut my work hours down to part time. I went and got myself an apprenticeship with an awesome sex educator who's going to let me take her intensive women's sexuality workshop for free and be a mentor to me. I got back to what it is I want to be doing.I guess what that means is that my resolution is to actually do all the things I've been wanting to do, the things that are the reasons I moved to New York. I'm going to events at Babeland and kinky events and poly events and I'm getting back into that community, except in a new city this time. I'm dating again, ending the celibate period I gave myself. I'm blogging again! (In case you didn't notice.) I'm just back to my usual self and my usual pursuits.
It feels really good. Maybe I'll try this resolution thing again next year.
NYC and my Fiscal Politics
About three months ago, I had an experience in the subway that really blew me away and solidified my fiscal politics. I didn't write about it at the time because I was feeling writer's blocked, but it seems important enough to reach back a little bit.
I was riding the subway home from a fancy dinner with my parents, who were in town for Thanksgiving. I was carrying a bag full of various leftovers they'd given me, which I planned to gleefully eat over the next week. I'm not exactly flush with cash, so free food was a luxury I was looking forward to.
As I was sitting there in a half-dozing, full-stomach, late-night stupor, a woman got on the subway and began one of those hat-in-hand speeches that you often hear from bedraggled people on the trains. She was missing most of her front teeth and had graying hair sticking out from the sides of her head. She said, "You're all I've got and I'm hungry and thirsty." She started to ask for whatever pocket change we could spare.
Well, I was sitting right next to her and I had all this food, so I just handed her a big thing of risotto that my parents had given me.
She stopped mid-sentence. Probably mid-word. She looked the container over, opened it, and started eating right there with her hands. She didn't really look at me, except once because I was watching her (I said, lamely, "Happy Thanksgiving,") and she got off at the next stop, still wordlessly eating.
I was so struck by her facial expression and the way she took that food. This woman was clearly starving. She had not eaten in days. It was obvious, and my heart just broke.
It's so impossible to understand living in this city. You can walk up Park Ave and see all the fancy shops and the women with obvious plastic surgery and fur coats and fancy cars with drivers. I collect hundreds of dollars sometimes in single donations on the street. And yet, there are people here who are starving.
Starving.
So, it became immensely clear to me that there's no reason that the kind of extreme wealth that's on display in this city should even exist. There's just no sense in it when we could tax those people into a semblance of reasonable life and be able to feed and house the people who need it.
I'm not saying people shouldn't be able to build up money and that there shouldn't be fiscal rewards for work. I do think it's important to have a bell curve of socio-economic status. I just think we need to cut off the ends, eliminate the outliers. So yeah, still pay doctors more and let people at the top have higher salaries, but there's just no reason for anyone to have gold dinner plates or private jets or whatever. It's just gratuitous.
So I guess that makes me something of a socialist, although not an extreme one by any means. That's something I'd shied away from for a long time because I felt like our fiscal politics were very, very complicated and trying to take a stance when I don't fully understand them would be silly. But really now, I can at least grasp a general concept and think it's close to the right thing to do.
I was riding the subway home from a fancy dinner with my parents, who were in town for Thanksgiving. I was carrying a bag full of various leftovers they'd given me, which I planned to gleefully eat over the next week. I'm not exactly flush with cash, so free food was a luxury I was looking forward to.
As I was sitting there in a half-dozing, full-stomach, late-night stupor, a woman got on the subway and began one of those hat-in-hand speeches that you often hear from bedraggled people on the trains. She was missing most of her front teeth and had graying hair sticking out from the sides of her head. She said, "You're all I've got and I'm hungry and thirsty." She started to ask for whatever pocket change we could spare.
Well, I was sitting right next to her and I had all this food, so I just handed her a big thing of risotto that my parents had given me.
She stopped mid-sentence. Probably mid-word. She looked the container over, opened it, and started eating right there with her hands. She didn't really look at me, except once because I was watching her (I said, lamely, "Happy Thanksgiving,") and she got off at the next stop, still wordlessly eating.
I was so struck by her facial expression and the way she took that food. This woman was clearly starving. She had not eaten in days. It was obvious, and my heart just broke.
It's so impossible to understand living in this city. You can walk up Park Ave and see all the fancy shops and the women with obvious plastic surgery and fur coats and fancy cars with drivers. I collect hundreds of dollars sometimes in single donations on the street. And yet, there are people here who are starving.
Starving.
So, it became immensely clear to me that there's no reason that the kind of extreme wealth that's on display in this city should even exist. There's just no sense in it when we could tax those people into a semblance of reasonable life and be able to feed and house the people who need it.
I'm not saying people shouldn't be able to build up money and that there shouldn't be fiscal rewards for work. I do think it's important to have a bell curve of socio-economic status. I just think we need to cut off the ends, eliminate the outliers. So yeah, still pay doctors more and let people at the top have higher salaries, but there's just no reason for anyone to have gold dinner plates or private jets or whatever. It's just gratuitous.
So I guess that makes me something of a socialist, although not an extreme one by any means. That's something I'd shied away from for a long time because I felt like our fiscal politics were very, very complicated and trying to take a stance when I don't fully understand them would be silly. But really now, I can at least grasp a general concept and think it's close to the right thing to do.
A Post of Two Cities
So, there are lots of things that are different between San Francisco and New York City. There's the weather, the size, the unique NY garbage smell, and SF's general sense of carefree liberalism compared to NY's angsty liberalism. Yes, they are both major cities with a serious leftist bent, but obviously they've got drastically different cultures within that.
Canvassing in New York City is also somewhat different. It's definitely the same animal, but perhaps a slightly different breed. It's harder to get people to smile at you as they pass by without stopping. They're way more in a hurry and used to be hassled. They've got the blinders on in a way that San Franciscans never did.
One major difference between the cities, both in canvassing and just in being on the street, is that I get street harassed a lot less here than I did in the West. I'm not really sure why. It could be because San Francisco, as Aviva suggested in the comments on that first post, has a more lenient attitude in general over what's acceptable public behavior. If sexual behavior in public is easier to get away with, does that make sexual harassment easier too? I don't know, but I can see the difference.
Now, I do still get bugged. People definitely hit on me when I'm in public, but it's so much more polite. It's still annoying, but much less so when someone says "Pardon my saying this, but you're very pretty," than when they ask my friend, "Hey, is that your girlfriend? I'd put that on my tongue," or just shout "You're hot" from their seat in a door frame.
I'm still not sure how to respond to street come-ons. I'm thinking calm honesty would probably be the best policy. You know, respond like I would if I was canvassing. "Thank you. It makes me uncomfortable that you say that, but thanks. It's weird on the street." I said something to that affect to a guy who wanted my number the other day, and it worked really well. He just said "That's cool, I understand" and walked away.
Has anyone had any successful rejoinders to this kind of stuff? I'd be interested to hear what works for you.
Canvassing in New York City is also somewhat different. It's definitely the same animal, but perhaps a slightly different breed. It's harder to get people to smile at you as they pass by without stopping. They're way more in a hurry and used to be hassled. They've got the blinders on in a way that San Franciscans never did.
One major difference between the cities, both in canvassing and just in being on the street, is that I get street harassed a lot less here than I did in the West. I'm not really sure why. It could be because San Francisco, as Aviva suggested in the comments on that first post, has a more lenient attitude in general over what's acceptable public behavior. If sexual behavior in public is easier to get away with, does that make sexual harassment easier too? I don't know, but I can see the difference.
Now, I do still get bugged. People definitely hit on me when I'm in public, but it's so much more polite. It's still annoying, but much less so when someone says "Pardon my saying this, but you're very pretty," than when they ask my friend, "Hey, is that your girlfriend? I'd put that on my tongue," or just shout "You're hot" from their seat in a door frame.
I'm still not sure how to respond to street come-ons. I'm thinking calm honesty would probably be the best policy. You know, respond like I would if I was canvassing. "Thank you. It makes me uncomfortable that you say that, but thanks. It's weird on the street." I said something to that affect to a guy who wanted my number the other day, and it worked really well. He just said "That's cool, I understand" and walked away.
Has anyone had any successful rejoinders to this kind of stuff? I'd be interested to hear what works for you.
Moving and Settling
I've been in a very strange mental state lately, one that I tend to enter during periods of intense transition or stress. Things are bumping along pretty well with the move to New York City. I've got an apartment I really like and a roommate I love and a job that's stressful but fulfilling, so on the surface level I'm doing well. My roommate's been having some health problems that have thrown a good-sized wrench in things, but overall things are alright.
I feel, though, kind of disconnected from everything. I have to keep reminding myself that this is, in fact, my life. What I've been doing is my everyday reality. This job is what I do now, at least for the time being. I live here. You know, for reals.
It's a dissociated feeling, and it makes it hard for me to think critically about things or to decide what I really want to be doing. Everything feels very temporary, and I just kind of go through the motions. It's not a terrible place, I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but I'm definitely not at full functioning.
I think it will be much better once I develop a concrete friend group beyond my roommate and her friends. I need to have people I can call to chill on a Thursday night, for my own fun and also to be less dependent on her. In a sense I need to guild up my New York family.
I think I'm starting to settle a bit more and come out of this. Thus blogging here; it's hard to do when I'm all out of it. Hopefully I'll be posting a lot more about all the interesting shit that comes up when canvassing and the weird stuff that happens in my relationships. It's all still there, I just need to write it down.
I feel, though, kind of disconnected from everything. I have to keep reminding myself that this is, in fact, my life. What I've been doing is my everyday reality. This job is what I do now, at least for the time being. I live here. You know, for reals.
It's a dissociated feeling, and it makes it hard for me to think critically about things or to decide what I really want to be doing. Everything feels very temporary, and I just kind of go through the motions. It's not a terrible place, I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but I'm definitely not at full functioning.
I think it will be much better once I develop a concrete friend group beyond my roommate and her friends. I need to have people I can call to chill on a Thursday night, for my own fun and also to be less dependent on her. In a sense I need to guild up my New York family.
I think I'm starting to settle a bit more and come out of this. Thus blogging here; it's hard to do when I'm all out of it. Hopefully I'll be posting a lot more about all the interesting shit that comes up when canvassing and the weird stuff that happens in my relationships. It's all still there, I just need to write it down.
Being a Grown Up
Well, I've now signed my first lease.
My mother used to always say that you're not a real adult until you have to pay your own bills. After a couple of weeks of sitting on the phone with the cable, gas, and electric companies, setting up appointments and equipment for same, tracking down and paying for furniture, and unpacking boxes, I think I can now officially say I am an adult.
I've been getting up every morning at 9am and trucking on the subway into work. I'm still canvassing here in New York City, which I definitely don't want to do for much longer. It is, however, a job with income. This is currently important.
I don't believe I've mentioned this here before, but one of my friends is a professional dominatrix (or pro-domme). I'm planning to go in with her to the dungeon where she works and have an interview with the boss this Tuesday. If you read here at all regularly, you know that I definitely have a submissive bent, so this venture should be pretty interesting.
I have no idea whether I will like dominating men for money, but it's another one of those things that I figure I might as well try and see how I feel about it. I'll certainly be writing about that, and much more about my adventures in this biggest U.S. city, now that I'm finally a bit settled. I'm such a nester; it makes me much happier to have a home to go back to that's all set up and pretty and comfortable. This is the first one I've gotten to build myself.
P.S. See, Myca, I blogged!
My mother used to always say that you're not a real adult until you have to pay your own bills. After a couple of weeks of sitting on the phone with the cable, gas, and electric companies, setting up appointments and equipment for same, tracking down and paying for furniture, and unpacking boxes, I think I can now officially say I am an adult.
I've been getting up every morning at 9am and trucking on the subway into work. I'm still canvassing here in New York City, which I definitely don't want to do for much longer. It is, however, a job with income. This is currently important.
I don't believe I've mentioned this here before, but one of my friends is a professional dominatrix (or pro-domme). I'm planning to go in with her to the dungeon where she works and have an interview with the boss this Tuesday. If you read here at all regularly, you know that I definitely have a submissive bent, so this venture should be pretty interesting.
I have no idea whether I will like dominating men for money, but it's another one of those things that I figure I might as well try and see how I feel about it. I'll certainly be writing about that, and much more about my adventures in this biggest U.S. city, now that I'm finally a bit settled. I'm such a nester; it makes me much happier to have a home to go back to that's all set up and pretty and comfortable. This is the first one I've gotten to build myself.
P.S. See, Myca, I blogged!
Uh Oh
So, I'm moving to NYC tomorrow, and I no longer have anyplace to stay while I apartment hunt.
I was planning to crash with a friend of mine for a few nights, but he just had a family emergency and had to take off. He was already going to be moving away at the end of the week, so he's giving up his place and I can't stay.
Therefore, if you are a New York City (especially Brooklyn) person and have a couch I can sleep on, I will be your new best friend. I know it's sketchy to be asking over the internet, but I'm in sort of dire straits as I've got a plane flight tomorrow and no idea where I'll be headed to when I leave the gate.
I'll be stalking the interwebs for the next day or so, watching my inbox feverishly, so if you can help me out (or know someone who can) please leave a comment here. We'll be BFFs. Instantly.
I was planning to crash with a friend of mine for a few nights, but he just had a family emergency and had to take off. He was already going to be moving away at the end of the week, so he's giving up his place and I can't stay.
Therefore, if you are a New York City (especially Brooklyn) person and have a couch I can sleep on, I will be your new best friend. I know it's sketchy to be asking over the internet, but I'm in sort of dire straits as I've got a plane flight tomorrow and no idea where I'll be headed to when I leave the gate.
I'll be stalking the interwebs for the next day or so, watching my inbox feverishly, so if you can help me out (or know someone who can) please leave a comment here. We'll be BFFs. Instantly.
On living, loving, learning, and fucking with the materials I've got at hand.
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