Last Wednesday I had my Social Security disability hearing for my vertigo, covering the period from March 2009, when I got sick, to July 2010, when I started working as a phone sex operator. Beforehand, my lawyer prepped me what to expect, and we went over the evidence to ensure my she had the important findings at the top of her notes.
We discussed whether to tell the judge I do the generic "phone consulting" or to tell him I'm a phone sex operator. The reality is, I chose this profession not only because I'm a giant slut who loves playing with callers' sexual energy, but also because I can set my own hours, I can rest when I need to, and I can't sustain any visual effort longer than about an hour. That leaves... ummm, well, phone sex! My lawyer advised me to play it by ear, but if it came to a choice of "the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth" then of course, I had to tell the judge.
Five minutes into the hearing, I was saying, "I'm a phone sex operator, Your Honor." He snortled, blinked, and asked, "Excuse me?" I repeated myself, "I do phone sex, Your Honor." I could feel myself blushing, and panicking slightly about whether or not it was the right choice. He raised his eyebrows at my lawyer as if to say "Nice curveball, counselor", but declined to comment.
I answered questions: Could I work from home as a PSO? Yep. Why could I be a PSO in July 2010? A combination of physical therapy and medicines improved my condition enough. Why couldn't I be a PSO between March 2009 and July 2010? The vertigo precluded concentrating long enough to sustain intense dialogue. How much do I make as a PSO? I've averaged only a few hundred dollars per month more than if I were still disabled and collecting Social Security disability benefits (my monthly average has been decreased by all the time I've taken off for my moves, but also, my monthly benefit amount was substantial because I made a lot / paid a lot into Social Security before I got sick - I think I maxed out my SS contributions for the last 8 years of my IT career).
Why can't I do my old job, be an IT Manager? I thought about opening a wall of SQL text, reviewing discombobulated spreadsheets with inconsistent data to import into a central database, reading hundreds of emails a day, running a project team meeting starting with "guys, we have a problem, and I have no clue how to solve it"... and I started to cry. Crying made me panic about seeming disingenuous or manipulative, and made me embarrassed to be crying, which, of course, only made it harder not to cry. Great.
There were more questions. The judge had clearly read my medical evidence, and knew what he wanted to uncover during testimony. I didn't interrupt him, I tried to stay on target, summarize without missing critical subtle details, and not let it distract me that I was starting to spin, stutter, feel foggy, drop words. The timing was horrifying, yet poetically impeccable: I was having a concentration-triggered vertigo crash in the middle of my disability hearing. Things were getting blurry, but I had to hang on enough to answer questions.
The judge thanked me for my creativity and willingness to work, which I thought was odd until I considered it later: I'm sure he sees a lot of people who are just trying to scam the system or get out of working to be lazy. But there I was saying, no, I really genuinely couldn't work for 16 months. But then I could work, so I did. I work, making less than a third of what I used to make. I work, making only 10% more than I would make if I were not working and on disability. But I can work, so I do.
Then he said "I'm granting disability for the closed period of March 2009 to July 2010. Counselor, are you all right with that?" My lawyer looked surprised, stammered, and said, "Yes, Your Honor". And then she was gathering her things and the judge was saying "This concludes the hearing" and I had the feeling I should leave the room, but there were things we had reviewed before the hearing that had not been stated, and my attorney hadn't given me the chance to tell the narrative I had been practicing... and what the fuck was going on?
Thankfully, something in my rational mind overruled my panic and said "follow your lawyer" so I packed up, stood up, turned around, stumbled into the wall, and drunkenly made it into the attorney consultation room. "What happened? Why didn't we... my narrative..."
She said calmly, decisively, and slowly, "You won. He said yes. He granted your disability. You're done."
"What? When? You said that wouldn't happen..." Then she laughed as my brain caught up, and trying to look professional instead of delightedly happy as she explained that the phrase "I'm granting disability" means he affirmed my total disability in the months I couldn't work, and granted me benefits.
My legs gave out; I had to sit. For two and a half years, I faced repeated denials of benefits because neurological vertigo is wickedly hard to prove. A part of me didn't believe the day would ever come when anybody would give me any disability benefits whatsoever.
Over the past few days, I keep having a feeling of dissociation from the reality of what has happened, followed by huge rushes of emotion: relief, gratitude, anger, joy, frustration, peace, and giddy giddy giggling.
The money will be exactly enough to: repay my mom and sister the money they've loaned us, pay off the last of my student loans from my MBA classes (I didn't finish my MBA because I got a management job without one), pay for the last step of the dental work I've been putting off for months, and then pay for about 10 celebratory dinners at in the $50-and-under range. Perfect.
So, how'd it go Wednesday? It went perfectly. I'm barely starting to come out of my shock at how perfectly it went.
I deeply appreciate each and every note of support I got. Thank you. Thank you more than you know.
So. Now I need to figure out how to get this damn blog back on track. Phone sex, Galiana. That's what people are here to read about, phone sex. Try to write about phone sex next, would you?
You know I don't make promises, but I'll try.
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disability. Show all posts
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
On The Road Again
Tomorrow, I'm traveling back to Austin to have a disability hearing. Although the timing was unfortunate, I'm very glad it's been scheduled and that I get time to explain my weird, complicated case.
I spent the first six months of my vertigo visiting 17 doctors and a physical therapist, looking for diagnosis and a cure.
In months 6-15, I tried a series of medicines, to varying degrees of less-than-total-success, but I also extended the lessons I learned in physical therapy to try to develop coping patterns of activity / rest.
In month 15, I felt good enough about the balance of occasional medicines and my physical therapy gains to attempt to make a living at phone sex. I was not at all sure I could do it. Some days were better than others. I'm still so grateful I was able to make it work.
The hearing will ONLY cover the time period before I started working (months 0-15). I genuinely believe that I could not have worked any sooner - it took that long for the right medicines and therapies to do their thing. Plus, Just Say No to attempting to defraud the government.
So the hearing will be hard: I'll have to remember in vivid detail a difficult period of my life.
And it will be wonderful: I'll get to remember in vivid detail how much more I can do now, and celebrate being the kind of person who chooses to do everything I can do. I choose to work, even at 1/3 of my former salary most months, because I can, and I love that about myself.
And I am traveling on my own, something I feared I could never do again. I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna suuuuuuuck to be on a plane again. But it sucks less than never traveling again. By a lot.
In the meantime, we're happily unpacking our new home to make one room functional at a time. The bedroom works REALLY well!! Yay me!
The Fuckatorium 3.0 will be spectacular, but has not yet been properly equipped or decorated. I can't wait to show it to you! I'm going for a very sparse look, with only necessities. The idea is to keep as little as possible in the room so it's video-ready at the drop of a hat if I get the urge. Less clutter = more videos (I hope). It's a unique room, with deeply sloped walls that obviously used to be part of an attic, 9 feet wide by 22 feet long with deep red walls - it's striking!
So I'll be offline and unavailable for calls Tue, Wed, Thu, but available by appointment only Friday afternoon. I'll probably be offline Saturday, and back on Sunday. Then next week, well, next week is when the real fun starts again: establishing my new pattern. I am so incredibly looking forward to next week!
I spent the first six months of my vertigo visiting 17 doctors and a physical therapist, looking for diagnosis and a cure.
In months 6-15, I tried a series of medicines, to varying degrees of less-than-total-success, but I also extended the lessons I learned in physical therapy to try to develop coping patterns of activity / rest.
In month 15, I felt good enough about the balance of occasional medicines and my physical therapy gains to attempt to make a living at phone sex. I was not at all sure I could do it. Some days were better than others. I'm still so grateful I was able to make it work.
The hearing will ONLY cover the time period before I started working (months 0-15). I genuinely believe that I could not have worked any sooner - it took that long for the right medicines and therapies to do their thing. Plus, Just Say No to attempting to defraud the government.
So the hearing will be hard: I'll have to remember in vivid detail a difficult period of my life.
And it will be wonderful: I'll get to remember in vivid detail how much more I can do now, and celebrate being the kind of person who chooses to do everything I can do. I choose to work, even at 1/3 of my former salary most months, because I can, and I love that about myself.
And I am traveling on my own, something I feared I could never do again. I'm not gonna lie, it's gonna suuuuuuuck to be on a plane again. But it sucks less than never traveling again. By a lot.
In the meantime, we're happily unpacking our new home to make one room functional at a time. The bedroom works REALLY well!! Yay me!
The Fuckatorium 3.0 will be spectacular, but has not yet been properly equipped or decorated. I can't wait to show it to you! I'm going for a very sparse look, with only necessities. The idea is to keep as little as possible in the room so it's video-ready at the drop of a hat if I get the urge. Less clutter = more videos (I hope). It's a unique room, with deeply sloped walls that obviously used to be part of an attic, 9 feet wide by 22 feet long with deep red walls - it's striking!
So I'll be offline and unavailable for calls Tue, Wed, Thu, but available by appointment only Friday afternoon. I'll probably be offline Saturday, and back on Sunday. Then next week, well, next week is when the real fun starts again: establishing my new pattern. I am so incredibly looking forward to next week!
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Moving, Science, and My Availability
As I let you know in this blog post, I am moving from the Austin area to the Houston area on Feb 28. Because of the circumstances of the move, we didn't start making arrangements until Feb 16, so it's insta-crunch-time for sorting and packing.
Saturday, I did Scientific Experiment One: stay logged in for phone sex and take calls according to my normal schedule, and see if I can get a few things packed between calls.
Outcomes for Scientific Experiment One:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear
* ability to log in: miserable abject failure - I got nothing packed at all
Basically, my logged-in pattern for taking calls is that between calls, I rest, answer emails, browse interesting links from my Twitter feed, and maybe do a thing or two for the rest of my life. Turns out, I can't change that pattern on the fly at all.
Sunday, I did another Scientific Experiment Two: pack a few hours in the morning, rest, then pack a few hours in the afternoon, rest again, then see if I have the energy to log on and take phone sex calls in the evening.
Outcomes for Scientific Experiment Two:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear
* productivity: packing productivity exceeded expectations, log in productivity inadequate
Basically, I was too dizzy to feel sexy all evening until I fell into that vertigo-coma sleep where I have vivid dreams and wake up unsure if I feel rested or not. I haven't tried to pack or move since I came down with my mysterious neurological vertigo, so I didn't know for sure how it would affect me. Now I know. Not fun.
Byucky.
So, since I don't log in for phone sex calls unless I feel rested and sexy, I doubt I'll be logging in until next Wed or Thu (Mar 2 or 3), when we've been in the new place long enough for me to unpack a bit and feel settled.
I hate having limitations. I really, really, really, genuinely hate having limitations. I want to be Wonder Woman, and be able to do everything plus some.
Thankfully, my desire to be a superheroine doesn't make me try to act like one, and it doesn't lead me to self-abuse for having un-super-power limitations. I am doing pretty well at caring for myself. I'm resting often, saving energy when I can, interacting with people who are life-giving to me, eating well, and sleeping as much as my body will let me.
I've managed myself through seasons of limitations before, and I feel confident that I will tire myself, but not break myself, and I'll be back on target soon enough.
But in this particular season of limitations, I have a new problem: I have become accustomed to having at least 3 good, solid orgasms per day fueled by the luscious lust of a wonderfully imaginative caller. What the FUCK do I do with all the lust building up inside me?
I miss you, and I look forward to you helping me work off all my lust when I can safely return.
Saturday, I did Scientific Experiment One: stay logged in for phone sex and take calls according to my normal schedule, and see if I can get a few things packed between calls.
Outcomes for Scientific Experiment One:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear
* ability to log in: miserable abject failure - I got nothing packed at all
Basically, my logged-in pattern for taking calls is that between calls, I rest, answer emails, browse interesting links from my Twitter feed, and maybe do a thing or two for the rest of my life. Turns out, I can't change that pattern on the fly at all.
Sunday, I did another Scientific Experiment Two: pack a few hours in the morning, rest, then pack a few hours in the afternoon, rest again, then see if I have the energy to log on and take phone sex calls in the evening.
Outcomes for Scientific Experiment Two:
* study methodology: wild success - outcome was crystal clear
* productivity: packing productivity exceeded expectations, log in productivity inadequate
Basically, I was too dizzy to feel sexy all evening until I fell into that vertigo-coma sleep where I have vivid dreams and wake up unsure if I feel rested or not. I haven't tried to pack or move since I came down with my mysterious neurological vertigo, so I didn't know for sure how it would affect me. Now I know. Not fun.
Byucky.
So, since I don't log in for phone sex calls unless I feel rested and sexy, I doubt I'll be logging in until next Wed or Thu (Mar 2 or 3), when we've been in the new place long enough for me to unpack a bit and feel settled.
I hate having limitations. I really, really, really, genuinely hate having limitations. I want to be Wonder Woman, and be able to do everything plus some.
Thankfully, my desire to be a superheroine doesn't make me try to act like one, and it doesn't lead me to self-abuse for having un-super-power limitations. I am doing pretty well at caring for myself. I'm resting often, saving energy when I can, interacting with people who are life-giving to me, eating well, and sleeping as much as my body will let me.
I've managed myself through seasons of limitations before, and I feel confident that I will tire myself, but not break myself, and I'll be back on target soon enough.
But in this particular season of limitations, I have a new problem: I have become accustomed to having at least 3 good, solid orgasms per day fueled by the luscious lust of a wonderfully imaginative caller. What the FUCK do I do with all the lust building up inside me?
I miss you, and I look forward to you helping me work off all my lust when I can safely return.
Friday, February 4, 2011
New mp3 For Sale: Gentle Fun
This is a follow-up to my blog post Heartbreak and Phone Sex, Part V as well as an announcement of a new pay-to-view offering.
My dear "sexually accessible" friend referenced in the blog post above gave me both permission and encouragement to offer the custom mp3 I made for him for sale, so I am, with a few caveats:
(Side note: Why is $1 / minute relevant? Because $0.99 / minute is the minimum I can charge for a recorded listing - and I will also turn this into a recorded listing - where you have to pay that much each time you listen to it. But with an mp3, you can re-listen to it as many times as you wish, so it should cost more... or at least, that's my current perspective)
This mp3 is representative of my honest enjoyment of someone else's gentle energy and fun vibe. He asked me to take him in his mouth, and then ride him, and it was easy to picture, and deliciously fun to experience in my mind. I couldn't stop grinning after I came.
To see the little write-up on MyFlirtStore, go here:
http://www.myflirtstore.com/Smart-Fun-Galiana/view/13737.html
Or to purchase it, click this button:
If you have even half as much fun listening to it as I did making it, you'll love it.
My dear "sexually accessible" friend referenced in the blog post above gave me both permission and encouragement to offer the custom mp3 I made for him for sale, so I am, with a few caveats:
- I didn't script it before I did it, so there are a few stumbles and pauses while I searched for words, which normally would disqualify a recording as being sale-worthy for me, but in this case, I'm okay with it, because I think it adds to the spontaneous charm (at least in theory), and I didn't want to re-record it, since I think the immediate honesty of it is its real strength.
- My voice was a little strained from allergies... stupid cedar pollen in central Texas in winter.
- I edited out his name for privacy, which causes a couple of little hiccup / scrambled sounds.
(Side note: Why is $1 / minute relevant? Because $0.99 / minute is the minimum I can charge for a recorded listing - and I will also turn this into a recorded listing - where you have to pay that much each time you listen to it. But with an mp3, you can re-listen to it as many times as you wish, so it should cost more... or at least, that's my current perspective)
This mp3 is representative of my honest enjoyment of someone else's gentle energy and fun vibe. He asked me to take him in his mouth, and then ride him, and it was easy to picture, and deliciously fun to experience in my mind. I couldn't stop grinning after I came.
To see the little write-up on MyFlirtStore, go here:
http://www.myflirtstore.com/Smart-Fun-Galiana/view/13737.html
Or to purchase it, click this button:
If you have even half as much fun listening to it as I did making it, you'll love it.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Heartbreak and Phone Sex, Part V
He found my blog, then my Facebook, and asked if we could do pay-to-view emails instead of phone calls, to help him get to know me first, and because his funds were limited.
I've been in a writing mood lately, so it seemed like a good fit: I could write, and productively fill time between calls with guaranteed income. I told him not to expect immediate turnarounds, but I was in.
His first email described me giving him a back rub, encouraging him, and then sucking him off before he fell asleep, neglecting his promise to go down on me, overwhelmed by sheer bliss. He wanted my reply to be me, the next morning, helping him make good on his promise by showing him exactly what I liked.
And then the story part of the email wrapped up. And he explained that he is in a wheelchair. He has cerebral palsy. He has very limited sexual experience, so sexual actions don't come naturally to him. He needed someone to understand his circumstances, but not let those circumstances define him for me.
Wow.
I was sooooooo so so so so grateful I had said yes.
He's not my first customer in a wheelchair. I love feeling helpful, encouraging, attentive to restrictions (or directions to ignore restrictions), and the feeling that I am adding a bright spot to a hard day.
I poured my heart into the response, playfully but calmly showing him what I liked. And much to my surprise, the me-character in my head changed up the action a bit halfway through. That saucy Inner Slut, she's not one to be pigeon-holed, is she?
He liked it. He loved it. He loved it a lot. He caught all the happy energy of it, and lobbed it back at me, and I was elated.
And then he explained that he was seeking the help of a professional (oh wait, that's supposed to be me? yikes!) because he had a lot of fear and anxiety around sex. But he thought about sex all the time, and he was tired of being afraid of his own thoughts, so he wanted to build some good thoughts. Sure, that makes sense, but why...?
Because he had been sexually assaulted. More than once. And had post-traumatic stress about it.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Are you fucking kidding me?
Fuck the world. Fuck it in fucking half. How the FUCK could someone who had already been dealt a pretty crappy hand physically then also be dealt the crappiest of hands in a physical-emotional connection? What. The. Fuck.
I don't pray in traditional ways. I don't speak sentences, or words even, or not often. The way I pray has more to do with making mental pictures, feeling feelings, and opening myself to an exchange that I cannot find other ways to express.
I opened myself, doors blown wide, and wept. And the energy which poured back into me, the energy of a warrior, and of a muse, and of a healer, more than made up for the energy I gave.
Then I couldn't write. For almost two full days. His requests were sitting in my inbox, begging for attention, and I would get 1 sentence in and freeze up. Grrrrrr ferrrrr fuxxxx saaaaaake... Why can't I put words together? Why can't I do his next fantasy? I can see it in my head. I know how I'd do it if I were on the phone...
/ding. /light-bulb. Ohhhhhh. I should record it. Give it to him as an mp3. Right. I knew that. /wink. /finger-gun. I'm totally following along here. Not slow on the uptake at all. No, sir, not me. /face-hide. /blush.
So I did an mp3 for him. I had a blast doing it. The orgasm was absolutely real, and it absolutely delighted me. He was happily overwhelmed with the result.
He gave me permission to share with you, my dear blog readers, a passage which I will give to you with great joy, and deeply amused respect, but without comment:
=====
I am Sexually Accessible (a freebie comic riff response to a serious question)
Feel free to quote me directly when I tell you "People in wheelchairs love having sex!!!" (The exclamation points are very important - LOL)
Seriously, the number one reason I want to stop being afraid of sex is: I think about it all the time and I'd prefer to not fear the thoughts in my head, considering that sex shouldn't be feared.
The way I'm going to explain this is going to sound racist. Please believe me, I'm not, and I'm just trying to communicate clearly. I own every label of my disability the way black comedians own "the N word".
MY COMIC RIFF ON THE SUBJECT
I'm crippled, handicapped, disabled, a half-man, a gimp, and I'll even except "retarded", on the first meeting, if you don't mind me knowing that you're a narrow-minded simpleton who likes to group people before saying two words to them.
I'm NOT handi-CAPABLE, dis-ABLED, Physically Challenged (I don't climb mountains every day, I go from a laying down position, to a sitting position. I don't stand often because I don't like falling over that much. This might qualify me as a lazy bastard, It certainly doesn't qualify me as PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED). I'm not Mentally Challenged (unless you call me retarded, at which point I'm trying to calculate how many times I can run you over with my wheelchair before you realize I'm doing it.
f(ouch) = Size of your stupidity/Size of your brain Ouch = As long as it makes me laugh (usually forever -- I'm an ass)).
And one thing I'm definitely not is able-bodied, but then again neither are you. Your condition on this earth, like all conditions in the material plain, is temporary. Put another way, when you're in your 70s shitting your pants, I will have had decades more experience than you.
END OF RIFF
=====
My heart isn't broken for him any more. Now it's just full of excitement with him. I get to be part of co-creating happy sex memories, and reveling in the knowledge that they mean even more than just making a rough day a little lighter. Maybe, in some way, they are making a rough life a little more joyous. I hope so.
I'm so very much looking forward to our long and mutually gratifying relationship.
I've been in a writing mood lately, so it seemed like a good fit: I could write, and productively fill time between calls with guaranteed income. I told him not to expect immediate turnarounds, but I was in.
His first email described me giving him a back rub, encouraging him, and then sucking him off before he fell asleep, neglecting his promise to go down on me, overwhelmed by sheer bliss. He wanted my reply to be me, the next morning, helping him make good on his promise by showing him exactly what I liked.
And then the story part of the email wrapped up. And he explained that he is in a wheelchair. He has cerebral palsy. He has very limited sexual experience, so sexual actions don't come naturally to him. He needed someone to understand his circumstances, but not let those circumstances define him for me.
Wow.
I was sooooooo so so so so grateful I had said yes.
He's not my first customer in a wheelchair. I love feeling helpful, encouraging, attentive to restrictions (or directions to ignore restrictions), and the feeling that I am adding a bright spot to a hard day.
I poured my heart into the response, playfully but calmly showing him what I liked. And much to my surprise, the me-character in my head changed up the action a bit halfway through. That saucy Inner Slut, she's not one to be pigeon-holed, is she?
He liked it. He loved it. He loved it a lot. He caught all the happy energy of it, and lobbed it back at me, and I was elated.
And then he explained that he was seeking the help of a professional (oh wait, that's supposed to be me? yikes!) because he had a lot of fear and anxiety around sex. But he thought about sex all the time, and he was tired of being afraid of his own thoughts, so he wanted to build some good thoughts. Sure, that makes sense, but why...?
Because he had been sexually assaulted. More than once. And had post-traumatic stress about it.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Are you fucking kidding me?
Fuck the world. Fuck it in fucking half. How the FUCK could someone who had already been dealt a pretty crappy hand physically then also be dealt the crappiest of hands in a physical-emotional connection? What. The. Fuck.
I don't pray in traditional ways. I don't speak sentences, or words even, or not often. The way I pray has more to do with making mental pictures, feeling feelings, and opening myself to an exchange that I cannot find other ways to express.
I opened myself, doors blown wide, and wept. And the energy which poured back into me, the energy of a warrior, and of a muse, and of a healer, more than made up for the energy I gave.
Then I couldn't write. For almost two full days. His requests were sitting in my inbox, begging for attention, and I would get 1 sentence in and freeze up. Grrrrrr ferrrrr fuxxxx saaaaaake... Why can't I put words together? Why can't I do his next fantasy? I can see it in my head. I know how I'd do it if I were on the phone...
/ding. /light-bulb. Ohhhhhh. I should record it. Give it to him as an mp3. Right. I knew that. /wink. /finger-gun. I'm totally following along here. Not slow on the uptake at all. No, sir, not me. /face-hide. /blush.
So I did an mp3 for him. I had a blast doing it. The orgasm was absolutely real, and it absolutely delighted me. He was happily overwhelmed with the result.
He gave me permission to share with you, my dear blog readers, a passage which I will give to you with great joy, and deeply amused respect, but without comment:
=====
I am Sexually Accessible (a freebie comic riff response to a serious question)
Feel free to quote me directly when I tell you "People in wheelchairs love having sex!!!" (The exclamation points are very important - LOL)
Seriously, the number one reason I want to stop being afraid of sex is: I think about it all the time and I'd prefer to not fear the thoughts in my head, considering that sex shouldn't be feared.
The way I'm going to explain this is going to sound racist. Please believe me, I'm not, and I'm just trying to communicate clearly. I own every label of my disability the way black comedians own "the N word".
MY COMIC RIFF ON THE SUBJECT
I'm crippled, handicapped, disabled, a half-man, a gimp, and I'll even except "retarded", on the first meeting, if you don't mind me knowing that you're a narrow-minded simpleton who likes to group people before saying two words to them.
I'm NOT handi-CAPABLE, dis-ABLED, Physically Challenged (I don't climb mountains every day, I go from a laying down position, to a sitting position. I don't stand often because I don't like falling over that much. This might qualify me as a lazy bastard, It certainly doesn't qualify me as PHYSICALLY CHALLENGED). I'm not Mentally Challenged (unless you call me retarded, at which point I'm trying to calculate how many times I can run you over with my wheelchair before you realize I'm doing it.
f(ouch) = Size of your stupidity/Size of your brain Ouch = As long as it makes me laugh (usually forever -- I'm an ass)).
And one thing I'm definitely not is able-bodied, but then again neither are you. Your condition on this earth, like all conditions in the material plain, is temporary. Put another way, when you're in your 70s shitting your pants, I will have had decades more experience than you.
END OF RIFF
=====
My heart isn't broken for him any more. Now it's just full of excitement with him. I get to be part of co-creating happy sex memories, and reveling in the knowledge that they mean even more than just making a rough day a little lighter. Maybe, in some way, they are making a rough life a little more joyous. I hope so.
I'm so very much looking forward to our long and mutually gratifying relationship.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Meeting In Person
Because I am non-monogamous, I've had callers ask if I would ever consider meeting them in person. For a platonic lunch? Sure. For hours on end of rambunctious sex? That's tricky.
A favorite caller of mine is going to be in town this summer, and asked me to write out my realistic caveats and expectations for meeting in person. I've been musing about the topic since I became a phone sex operator, so it's about damn time I put together a blog post already.
The trickiness boils down to this: because of the combination of (a) my mysterious neurological vertigo and (b) my dependence on phone sex to pay the bills, I protect my time and energy very carefully to ensure that I am available to work as often as possible.
So I limit my activities in life, including regularly missing out-of-town events which I would eagerly attend if I did not have that unfortunate combination. Don't get me wrong: I love my life, my life is worth living even if I have to miss a few celebrations, and I love that sometimes I can say yes and join in.
And I love being with a new lover for the first time - I love that a lot. And I love the idea of meeting a new lover by having them be a phone sex caller first -- the chance to get to know how we turn each other on that way is pretty damn sexy. And I'm comfortable with my ability to discern who I would be compatible with meeting in person -- remember, I was a slut before I was a phone whore, and I've hooked up from the internet after writing/chatting/talking on the phone plenty of times, before I got vertigo. My experience suggests that the longer I know a lover before we meet in person, the better the sex is.
Warning: this blog post is ludicrously long, and chock full of unsexy, fantasy-draining unpleasantries and logistics. Your boner is seriously at risk.
VERTIGO
The uncomfortable truth is: there is no way for us to meet in person and have sex without it making me dizzy.
I've written about some of the issues with my vertigo (in this early blog post, and then also more recently), but here's a summary: I feel drunk all the time. Many things make me feel more drunk, including motion, concentration on complex mental tasks, and being in crowds. The only thing that makes me feel less drunk is spending time being still.
The basic theory behind my vertigo is that my neurons in a few parts of my brain aren’t recharging fast enough, so once they fire, they need more time than normal to be available to fire again. So when I do activities with certain types of stimulation, those neurons wear themselves out and need to recharge. As neurological impulses are re-routed to pathways which are not designed to handle those processes, chaos ensues, which manifests as me feeling progressively dizzier.
What I haven't yet mentioned on the blog is that, out of the 32 medicines I have tried so far, there are two medicines which allow me to be relatively dizzy-free for several hours a time, helpful enough to take now and then, but they have side effects and drawbacks.
The big drawback is rebound: As a drug wears off, I almost inevitably have a rebound effect, which is different for each medicine. The most common rebound experience is approximately like having a sugar crash, after eating ten times more ice cream than you should, on a day when you were already desperately hung over, from taking tequila shots until you puked. So it's not fun. My head feels woozy, my tummy is upset, I'm confused, I'm light-sensitive, and I'm cranky about it.
At its most severe, it feels like someone is holding my skull like a snow globe and shaking my brain inside it. And just like settling a snow globe, the only way to calm back down is to be completely still.
During a rebound crash, I need to be totally alone in a dark, quiet room. No, you can't lie on the bed next to me, because if you so much as move a muscle, I will want to kill you, so for the protection of our relationship, you can't be there when I'm rebounding.
Remember: you were warned about the non-sexy in this blog post. And there's more coming. Sorry.
Ritalin:
Neurological stimulants seem to reduce my dizziness by speeding up the recharge rate to allow my neurons to fire again. I've tried a few uppers, and Ritalin has the most tolerable combination of side effects for the amount of anti-dizzy time I get. But, like most stimulants, the effects degrade with repeated use.
Behaviorally, I am irrationally talkative on Ritalin, and I'm convinced all my funny stories are hilarious.
Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Ritalin in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:
* 1st day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 6-8 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1.5 hours.
* 2nd day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.
* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 2-3 hours if I'm lucky, but jittery feelings drown out euphoria; I can do most things, but fucking would have to be gentle; the rebound crash lasts for 4 hours; my blood pressure rises to unhealthy levels.
* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one big rebound crash for hours on end, and my blood pressure rises to get-to-an-emergency-room-right-fucking-now levels. Not good.
* the day after: even if I just take Ritalin for 1 day, the day after I take it, I feel hung over most of the day: I have low energy, I am easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.
I love taking Ritalin for things I would not otherwise be able to participate in very easily (like Christmas morning with wiggly children, or my friend's wedding last October), and it is worth the rebound + hangover for such events. Better than not having those memories.
Xanax:
Neurological anti-anxiety drugs like Xanax seem to reduce my dizziness by relieving my mind of the background process of anxieties and worries, leaving more neural networks free to focus on the task at hand. Plus they block dizzy signals from the inner ear (which are clearly scrambled in my case), which is why they are often used for motion sickness.
The effects of Xanax degrade less than with Ritalin, but the side effect of making me lethargic and sleepy progressively strengthens.
Behaviorally, while I'm on Xanax, I act sleepy, giggly, stupid, and stoned; I have very little impulse control, so I say insane things, and should not be out in public for fear I'll take off my bra and toss it at someone like I'm a groupie at a Tom Jones concert in the 1970s. Therefore, I have to trust someone a lot to take Xanax with them, because my judgment is clouded, and I won't do heavy BDSM or bondage play on Xanax.
Also, when I'm on Xanax, I need a constant influx of caffeine just to stay awake. By "constant influx" I mean I need to drink significant caffeine every 15-20 minutes. This results in frequent potty breaks, so suspension shibari would be out of the question anyway.
(side note: I'm uncommonly sensitive to drugs... these effects are from the lowest possible doses, and I split pills in half)
Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Xanax in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:
* 1st day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 5-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1 hour.
* 2nd day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-5 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 2 hours.
* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 3-4 hours, but the urge to sleep is increasingly difficult to overcome; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.
* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one muddled and unmotivated rebound crash until I go to sleep.
* the day after: no matter how many days in a row I've taken Xanax, the day after I take it, I feel sluggish and unresponsive, easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.
Ritalin and Xanax combined:
Doesn't help. I tried. All the side effects, none of the benefits. Rats.
With my daily medicine:
After I first wrote this post, I discovered a daily medicine, phenobarbital, which I affectionately refer to as my "horse tranquilizer" because it is more often used as a veterinary medicine these days, which allows me to do more on a daily basis, with less dizziness, with the side effect that it makes me groggy.
If I'm fully settled, I can do dizzy-inducing activities for a while, but then I need to rest, and the ratio of activity-to-rest keeps degrading. If I don't rest in time, the degradation speeds up exponentially, as if my vertigo were rolling downhill and picking up speed. So having sex off meds looks about like this, even if none of it is overly vigorous:
* fuck for about 90-120 minutes then rest for about 60 minutes
* fuck for about 45-60 minutes then rest for about 90 minutes
* fuck for about 30-45 minutes then rest for about 120 minutes
* fuck for about 15 minutes and then I'm done for the day
The day after I did that full of a pattern, I'd feel dizzier than usual, and less social than usual.
FINANCIAL CONSIDERATIONS: THOUGHTS
When I feel anti-social, easily confused, or have problems completing sentences, it has a profound effect on my ability to earn money. There is no vacation pay as a PSO - either you're being paid to be on the phone or you're not. So when a day goes by and I'm not logged in, I forever lose the income potential of that day.
I would only take a new lover if I were attracted to them, no matter how much money was involved. Really, if someone I was not attracted to took me to the Bunny Ranch, registered me as a legal prostitute, and offered me $25,000, I would say no.
But assuming there is enough attraction for me to consider enjoying you as an in-person lover, romping with you in the flesh will knock me off the phones for a day or two.
It's complicated, right? Because if I'm attracted to you and want you to be my lover, then in some ways, that's like any other life-thing, and I shouldn't be compensated for it.
However, I am extraordinarily picky about how I spend my off-phone, social time. Honestly, I'm pickier about that than I am about who I would theoretically have sex with. There are lots of people I would love to fuck if I had all the time and money and non-dizzy energy in the world, and yet, I've only chosen to have two in-person lovers other than my husband since I got vertigo.
Another factor: while I'm not morally opposed to prostitution, I am opposed to breaking the law, so I won't take money for sex unless we're in a legal brothel and I'm registered as a legal prostitute.
However, money does make it possible for me to be away from my job as a phone sex operator.
I realized that if I had all the money in the world, and I had a friend in the same situation, and I wanted to visit with my friend, I would happily give her a gift of a few days' earning potential to spend one day with her wearing her out doing something she loved, so she wouldn't have to worry about the financial impact of her time off.
Once I realized that, I accepted that, although I won't take money for sex, I would take a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work.
Sex would not be guaranteed, just as sex would not be guaranteed for anyone I would be meeting in person for the first time - chemistry would have to align, I'd have to feel safe, and I'd have to feel non-dizzy enough. Those caveats not only keep me legal, they are just plain true.
For safety and sanity, as with any potential partner I haven't yet met in person, we'd meet in public and share a nice meal first to mutually decide whether or not to become lovers.
Just in case we do mutually decide to become lovers, we'd both bring recent STD test results showing we're free of anything unpleasantly contagious, we'd both bring condoms to show our commitment to remaining STD-free, and if we became lovers, we'd use condoms during penetrative sex.
If several days in a row were an option, here's what I think would work best for my vertigo, but this theory is untested, so the degradation of my vertigo may be more severe than this:
* Day 1: Ritalin - 6-8 hours together
* Day 2: Xanax - 5-6 hours together
* Day 3: Ritalin: 5-6 hours together
I would not be willing to try more than 3 days in a row, mostly because I can't spend that much alone time with anyone without going a little bonkers, and unfortunately, we can't break up the time with museums or movies or concerts, because those are just as non-restful for me as having sex.
FINANCIAL CONSIDERATIONS: THE NUMBERS
So, what is "a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work"?
* My highest 24-hour take (my portion) was $356.
* My lowest 24-hour take where I was available full-time (at least 12 hours) was around $100.
* My goal on a normal full-time day is $150.
* I make my goal, or more, about 90% of the time when I'm available for 12 hours.
* Realistically, it would take $250 for me to feel totally stress-free about taking a day off work.
* Realistically, on day(s) we meet, I would need to board my dogs ($75 / night).
FINANCIAL AND VERTIGO CONSIDERATIONS: CONCLUSIONS
MEETING LOCALLY
It's simpler to meet on my turf in Houston, of course.
* You pay your way to get to Houston. You get a car for yourself. You get a hotel room for yourself.
* My set up: (day of pampering and rest before, day of rest after): $500
* 1 day together ($500 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $825
* 2 days together ($500 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1150
* 3 days together: ($500 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $1475
(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $491/ day. You're welcome.)
TRAVELING
Traveling is more complicated, because I need to take off the day I travel, plus the day after to recover- traveling is by far my most dizzying activity (which is a heart breaker because I love to see new places!).
So, for example, if you wanted to meet Friday-Saturday-Sunday in Vegas, I would need to travel on Wednesday, recover on Thursday, play Fri-Sat-Sun, travel back on Monday, and recover Tuesday. Even though it's only 3 days of play, I would be off work for 7 days, and boarding my dogs for 6 nights.
So if you wanted to meet me somewhere other than Houston, and you wanted me to have no anxiety about taking plenty of time off work, you would need to give me a gift of:
* You pay my airfare, and you pay for a hotel room for me - if you also are in a hotel in town, I need my own hotel room, or at least my own bedroom, to ensure I can be completely alone when I'm recovering.
* My set up: ($1000 for four days off - day of travel before, day of rest before, day of travel after, day of rest after + $225 to board my dogs on travel days): $1225
* 1 day together ($1225 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $1550
* 2 days together ($1225 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1875
* 3 days together: ($1225 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $2200
(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $733/ day. You're welcome.)
CAVEATS
As with anyone with an unpredictable physiological condition, if we meet in person, I reserve the right at any point to bow out of any activity and take care of myself physically at any time in any way I see fit.
Since dollar amounts are simply gifts to allow me to take anxiety-free time off work, and no specific activities are guaranteed, there would never be refunds.
Ugh, I worked as a consultant too long... I can think of a bazillion other caveats, but I think I'll stop now before I get my lawyer ex-co-worker friends involved.
CONCLUSION
This topic is mind-bogglingly complicated for me when I try to make the leap from fantasy to reality. Hopefully this blog post has explained why.
But emotionally, in the world of fantasy, I love the idea of getting to know a caller on the phone, recognizing our mutual attraction and comfort, and meeting in person to become in-the-flesh lovers. What a great way to find potential partners!
Plus, the phone sex after meeting in person would be that much hotter, wouldn't it? Soooooo fun to think about...
A favorite caller of mine is going to be in town this summer, and asked me to write out my realistic caveats and expectations for meeting in person. I've been musing about the topic since I became a phone sex operator, so it's about damn time I put together a blog post already.
The trickiness boils down to this: because of the combination of (a) my mysterious neurological vertigo and (b) my dependence on phone sex to pay the bills, I protect my time and energy very carefully to ensure that I am available to work as often as possible.
So I limit my activities in life, including regularly missing out-of-town events which I would eagerly attend if I did not have that unfortunate combination. Don't get me wrong: I love my life, my life is worth living even if I have to miss a few celebrations, and I love that sometimes I can say yes and join in.
And I love being with a new lover for the first time - I love that a lot. And I love the idea of meeting a new lover by having them be a phone sex caller first -- the chance to get to know how we turn each other on that way is pretty damn sexy. And I'm comfortable with my ability to discern who I would be compatible with meeting in person -- remember, I was a slut before I was a phone whore, and I've hooked up from the internet after writing/chatting/talking on the phone plenty of times, before I got vertigo. My experience suggests that the longer I know a lover before we meet in person, the better the sex is.
Warning: this blog post is ludicrously long, and chock full of unsexy, fantasy-draining unpleasantries and logistics. Your boner is seriously at risk.
VERTIGO
The uncomfortable truth is: there is no way for us to meet in person and have sex without it making me dizzy.
I've written about some of the issues with my vertigo (in this early blog post, and then also more recently), but here's a summary: I feel drunk all the time. Many things make me feel more drunk, including motion, concentration on complex mental tasks, and being in crowds. The only thing that makes me feel less drunk is spending time being still.
The basic theory behind my vertigo is that my neurons in a few parts of my brain aren’t recharging fast enough, so once they fire, they need more time than normal to be available to fire again. So when I do activities with certain types of stimulation, those neurons wear themselves out and need to recharge. As neurological impulses are re-routed to pathways which are not designed to handle those processes, chaos ensues, which manifests as me feeling progressively dizzier.
What I haven't yet mentioned on the blog is that, out of the 32 medicines I have tried so far, there are two medicines which allow me to be relatively dizzy-free for several hours a time, helpful enough to take now and then, but they have side effects and drawbacks.
The big drawback is rebound: As a drug wears off, I almost inevitably have a rebound effect, which is different for each medicine. The most common rebound experience is approximately like having a sugar crash, after eating ten times more ice cream than you should, on a day when you were already desperately hung over, from taking tequila shots until you puked. So it's not fun. My head feels woozy, my tummy is upset, I'm confused, I'm light-sensitive, and I'm cranky about it.
At its most severe, it feels like someone is holding my skull like a snow globe and shaking my brain inside it. And just like settling a snow globe, the only way to calm back down is to be completely still.
During a rebound crash, I need to be totally alone in a dark, quiet room. No, you can't lie on the bed next to me, because if you so much as move a muscle, I will want to kill you, so for the protection of our relationship, you can't be there when I'm rebounding.
Remember: you were warned about the non-sexy in this blog post. And there's more coming. Sorry.
Ritalin:
Neurological stimulants seem to reduce my dizziness by speeding up the recharge rate to allow my neurons to fire again. I've tried a few uppers, and Ritalin has the most tolerable combination of side effects for the amount of anti-dizzy time I get. But, like most stimulants, the effects degrade with repeated use.
Behaviorally, I am irrationally talkative on Ritalin, and I'm convinced all my funny stories are hilarious.
Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Ritalin in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:
* 1st day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 6-8 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1.5 hours.
* 2nd day: I'm euphoric and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.
* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 2-3 hours if I'm lucky, but jittery feelings drown out euphoria; I can do most things, but fucking would have to be gentle; the rebound crash lasts for 4 hours; my blood pressure rises to unhealthy levels.
* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one big rebound crash for hours on end, and my blood pressure rises to get-to-an-emergency-room-right-fucking-now levels. Not good.
* the day after: even if I just take Ritalin for 1 day, the day after I take it, I feel hung over most of the day: I have low energy, I am easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.
I love taking Ritalin for things I would not otherwise be able to participate in very easily (like Christmas morning with wiggly children, or my friend's wedding last October), and it is worth the rebound + hangover for such events. Better than not having those memories.
Xanax:
Neurological anti-anxiety drugs like Xanax seem to reduce my dizziness by relieving my mind of the background process of anxieties and worries, leaving more neural networks free to focus on the task at hand. Plus they block dizzy signals from the inner ear (which are clearly scrambled in my case), which is why they are often used for motion sickness.
The effects of Xanax degrade less than with Ritalin, but the side effect of making me lethargic and sleepy progressively strengthens.
Behaviorally, while I'm on Xanax, I act sleepy, giggly, stupid, and stoned; I have very little impulse control, so I say insane things, and should not be out in public for fear I'll take off my bra and toss it at someone like I'm a groupie at a Tom Jones concert in the 1970s. Therefore, I have to trust someone a lot to take Xanax with them, because my judgment is clouded, and I won't do heavy BDSM or bondage play on Xanax.
Also, when I'm on Xanax, I need a constant influx of caffeine just to stay awake. By "constant influx" I mean I need to drink significant caffeine every 15-20 minutes. This results in frequent potty breaks, so suspension shibari would be out of the question anyway.
(side note: I'm uncommonly sensitive to drugs... these effects are from the lowest possible doses, and I split pills in half)
Assuming I'm well-rested and haven't taken Xanax in at least a week, so I have a nice, fresh brain, here's what happens:
* 1st day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 5-6 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 1 hour.
* 2nd day: I'm delightedly stoned and comparatively dizzy-free for 4-5 hours; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 2 hours.
* 3rd day: I'm comparatively dizzy-free for 3-4 hours, but the urge to sleep is increasingly difficult to overcome; I can do almost anything (including sustained vigorous fucking); the rebound crash lasts about 3 hours.
* 4th day: The entire experience is basically one muddled and unmotivated rebound crash until I go to sleep.
* the day after: no matter how many days in a row I've taken Xanax, the day after I take it, I feel sluggish and unresponsive, easily confused, and I am less interested in social interactions.
Ritalin and Xanax combined:
Doesn't help. I tried. All the side effects, none of the benefits. Rats.
With my daily medicine:
After I first wrote this post, I discovered a daily medicine, phenobarbital, which I affectionately refer to as my "horse tranquilizer" because it is more often used as a veterinary medicine these days, which allows me to do more on a daily basis, with less dizziness, with the side effect that it makes me groggy.
If I'm fully settled, I can do dizzy-inducing activities for a while, but then I need to rest, and the ratio of activity-to-rest keeps degrading. If I don't rest in time, the degradation speeds up exponentially, as if my vertigo were rolling downhill and picking up speed. So having sex off meds looks about like this, even if none of it is overly vigorous:
* fuck for about 90-120 minutes then rest for about 60 minutes
* fuck for about 45-60 minutes then rest for about 90 minutes
* fuck for about 30-45 minutes then rest for about 120 minutes
* fuck for about 15 minutes and then I'm done for the day
The day after I did that full of a pattern, I'd feel dizzier than usual, and less social than usual.
FINANCIAL CONSIDERATIONS: THOUGHTS
When I feel anti-social, easily confused, or have problems completing sentences, it has a profound effect on my ability to earn money. There is no vacation pay as a PSO - either you're being paid to be on the phone or you're not. So when a day goes by and I'm not logged in, I forever lose the income potential of that day.
I would only take a new lover if I were attracted to them, no matter how much money was involved. Really, if someone I was not attracted to took me to the Bunny Ranch, registered me as a legal prostitute, and offered me $25,000, I would say no.
But assuming there is enough attraction for me to consider enjoying you as an in-person lover, romping with you in the flesh will knock me off the phones for a day or two.
It's complicated, right? Because if I'm attracted to you and want you to be my lover, then in some ways, that's like any other life-thing, and I shouldn't be compensated for it.
However, I am extraordinarily picky about how I spend my off-phone, social time. Honestly, I'm pickier about that than I am about who I would theoretically have sex with. There are lots of people I would love to fuck if I had all the time and money and non-dizzy energy in the world, and yet, I've only chosen to have two in-person lovers other than my husband since I got vertigo.
Another factor: while I'm not morally opposed to prostitution, I am opposed to breaking the law, so I won't take money for sex unless we're in a legal brothel and I'm registered as a legal prostitute.
However, money does make it possible for me to be away from my job as a phone sex operator.
I realized that if I had all the money in the world, and I had a friend in the same situation, and I wanted to visit with my friend, I would happily give her a gift of a few days' earning potential to spend one day with her wearing her out doing something she loved, so she wouldn't have to worry about the financial impact of her time off.
Once I realized that, I accepted that, although I won't take money for sex, I would take a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work.
Sex would not be guaranteed, just as sex would not be guaranteed for anyone I would be meeting in person for the first time - chemistry would have to align, I'd have to feel safe, and I'd have to feel non-dizzy enough. Those caveats not only keep me legal, they are just plain true.
For safety and sanity, as with any potential partner I haven't yet met in person, we'd meet in public and share a nice meal first to mutually decide whether or not to become lovers.
Just in case we do mutually decide to become lovers, we'd both bring recent STD test results showing we're free of anything unpleasantly contagious, we'd both bring condoms to show our commitment to remaining STD-free, and if we became lovers, we'd use condoms during penetrative sex.
If several days in a row were an option, here's what I think would work best for my vertigo, but this theory is untested, so the degradation of my vertigo may be more severe than this:
* Day 1: Ritalin - 6-8 hours together
* Day 2: Xanax - 5-6 hours together
* Day 3: Ritalin: 5-6 hours together
I would not be willing to try more than 3 days in a row, mostly because I can't spend that much alone time with anyone without going a little bonkers, and unfortunately, we can't break up the time with museums or movies or concerts, because those are just as non-restful for me as having sex.
FINANCIAL CONSIDERATIONS: THE NUMBERS
So, what is "a gift which allows me to take worry-free time off work"?
* My highest 24-hour take (my portion) was $356.
* My lowest 24-hour take where I was available full-time (at least 12 hours) was around $100.
* My goal on a normal full-time day is $150.
* I make my goal, or more, about 90% of the time when I'm available for 12 hours.
* Realistically, it would take $250 for me to feel totally stress-free about taking a day off work.
Bunny Trail:* Realistically, I would need a "set up" before meeting a new lover in person: one day off before we meet to rest and prep (which would include getting a manicure-pedicure to help me feel relaxed and pretty, but that would be included in my day of rest), and one day off after we meet to recover.
Here's some info about my overall earnings, in case you're curious, because I don't mind sharing:
- Although I get $54 / hour at my current rate when I'm talking, I am logged in and waiting for the next call for approx 3-4 hours for each hour spent talking - if you count all my logged in time as "working", I average about $15 / hour.
- If I were available full-time every day (I'm not), and hitting my goal all the time (I don't), I'd be available about 80 hours / week, and make about $1,000 / week.
- Other operators (based on people I trust revealing their earnings, and some extrapolation from hints): My earning potential is lower than Mistresses who require regular Tributes, and lower than operators who produce a lot of content which sells well (pictures and videos and recordings), but higher than many other phone-only women who don't seem to attract as many repeat customers or long conversations as I do. I'm probably smack dab in the middle.
- My guess is that most people who work 60+ hours / week at phone sex average between $750 and $1,200 a week (before taxes, with no benefits, and with wild unpredictable fluctuations week-to-week). I'm sure established high-end Dommes can average $2,000 / week. I imagine outliers make more, but the odds of making $5,000 / week doing phone sex are about the same as the odds of getting a multi-million-dollar contract in pro basketball.
* Realistically, on day(s) we meet, I would need to board my dogs ($75 / night).
FINANCIAL AND VERTIGO CONSIDERATIONS: CONCLUSIONS
MEETING LOCALLY
It's simpler to meet on my turf in Houston, of course.
* You pay your way to get to Houston. You get a car for yourself. You get a hotel room for yourself.
* My set up: (day of pampering and rest before, day of rest after): $500
* 1 day together ($500 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $825
* 2 days together ($500 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1150
* 3 days together: ($500 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $1475
(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $491/ day. You're welcome.)
TRAVELING
Traveling is more complicated, because I need to take off the day I travel, plus the day after to recover- traveling is by far my most dizzying activity (which is a heart breaker because I love to see new places!).
So, for example, if you wanted to meet Friday-Saturday-Sunday in Vegas, I would need to travel on Wednesday, recover on Thursday, play Fri-Sat-Sun, travel back on Monday, and recover Tuesday. Even though it's only 3 days of play, I would be off work for 7 days, and boarding my dogs for 6 nights.
So if you wanted to meet me somewhere other than Houston, and you wanted me to have no anxiety about taking plenty of time off work, you would need to give me a gift of:
* You pay my airfare, and you pay for a hotel room for me - if you also are in a hotel in town, I need my own hotel room, or at least my own bedroom, to ensure I can be completely alone when I'm recovering.
* My set up: ($1000 for four days off - day of travel before, day of rest before, day of travel after, day of rest after + $225 to board my dogs on travel days): $1225
* 1 day together ($1225 set up + $250 for the day off for me + $75 to board the dogs): $1550
* 2 days together ($1225 set up + $500 for 2 days off for me + $150 to board the dogs): $1875
* 3 days together: ($1225 set up + $750 for 3 days off for me + $225 to board the dogs): $2200
(Math you don't have to do: 3 days is the best per-day rate at $733/ day. You're welcome.)
CAVEATS
As with anyone with an unpredictable physiological condition, if we meet in person, I reserve the right at any point to bow out of any activity and take care of myself physically at any time in any way I see fit.
Since dollar amounts are simply gifts to allow me to take anxiety-free time off work, and no specific activities are guaranteed, there would never be refunds.
Ugh, I worked as a consultant too long... I can think of a bazillion other caveats, but I think I'll stop now before I get my lawyer ex-co-worker friends involved.
CONCLUSION
This topic is mind-bogglingly complicated for me when I try to make the leap from fantasy to reality. Hopefully this blog post has explained why.
But emotionally, in the world of fantasy, I love the idea of getting to know a caller on the phone, recognizing our mutual attraction and comfort, and meeting in person to become in-the-flesh lovers. What a great way to find potential partners!
Plus, the phone sex after meeting in person would be that much hotter, wouldn't it? Soooooo fun to think about...
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