Friday, May 17, 2013

NiteFlirt Awards

NiteFlirt started doing awards recently for top earners. Gold = above 99th percentile, Silver = 96th-99th percentile, Bronze = 91st - 95th percentile.

I was full-time on NiteFlirt for about 19.5 months, from July 15, 2010 through about the end of February 2012, and I earned all my awards during that time. Awards are based on semi-monthly periods, so two awards equals one month.

Here are my awards.

That means:
  • I was in the top 9% for 15.5 months (79% of the time, during which I moved twice)
  • I was in the top 4% for 11.5 months (58% of the time)
  • I was in the top 1% for 4.5 months (23% of the time)
The "Rising Star" award means that I was one of the top 40 newcomers for all but one period in my first 3 months.

I had NO idea.

I mean, I knew that people said that I rose in rankings more quickly than most people did. But that's subjective, anecdotal perception. It is incredibly easy to dismiss perceptions emotionally and intellectually.

It is another thing altogether to know that I was in the top 1% of earners on NiteFlirt within 6 weeks of joining the site.

Top one percent. Six weeks after joining.

Holy crap.

I'm blown away.

And then, I was consistently within in the top 4% on the site until my husband got the job here, and I wasn't our sole source of income anymore.

I'll tell other Flirts my income numbers if you write me privately. But I don't want to blow the fantasy lid off anyone's Financial Domination fantasies by publishing my numbers. Sorry, callers, you just have to wonder.

(Why Ms Chance, is that grin a sign of emotional sadism? Mayyyyyyyybe)

Ohhhhhh data. You give me such delicious feelings of certainty. And you throw such wrenches into my musings about what I want to do next with my professional life. Just like a good lover should, you encourage and challenge me.

I love you, data. I've missed you, man.

Also: Holy crap, I'm blown away.

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

Note To An Ex

I wrote this in January or February to an ex-lover, for his birthday. It went unanswered, as I suspected it would.


I hope this email finds you well.

I hope your New Birthday Year yields pleasant memories, challenges met, puzzles solved, and a sense of growth.

My 2012 was intense, and ended with a series of difficult question marks.

My January has, unbelievably, resolved into a series of affirmations in a way that makes me suspect, yet again, that my life has been edited for continuity and thematic consistency.

I continue to fantasize, as I have since I met you, that you'll show up at my door one day, unannounced. There aren't a lot of happy reasons on your side to cause that to happen, so I don't wish it to happen, but I wonder about it all the same.

The 2013 version has you arriving with all your intensity intact, determined to do something dramatic, with an attaché case full of cash, uncertain which offer you'll make... To my husband? To me? To neither?

What you wouldn't expect, I don't think, is to be greeted warmly, offered horrifically American tea, and offered sincere condolences on whichever Big D caused you to arrive to us: Divorce or Death. We listen and mourn with you as naturally as if we had last been together yesterday.

Of course I won't leave him. Of course he wouldn't take money to "tell me I could go." You knew that, but it seemed like a good gesture at some point in your sleep-deprived scheming. At least you didn't bring the gun.

My bed is upstairs, my husband's is downstairs, so I invite you to lie down with me, to let yourself sleep, with me beside you. It will all make more sense after some rest, some food, some hydration, a shower, and playing with our dogs for a bit. Feeling me hug you, kiss you, hold you close, fuck you if you wish, initiating nothing but nurture, giving you nothing but warmth, in our home, which feels cozy and full and oddly relaxing.

My life is fuller now, more open. We could have now what we should have been able to have back then, from my perspective. Nowadays, we can't have that from your perspective. But that doesn't make me sad anymore.

It does, however, make me miss you.

I hope this email finds you well.