Becoming Lady Angela / Staying PlaySmart

I wrote this for friends on FetLife. It contains information bombs for blog readers:

1. My first name is Angela.

2. My username for my personal profile on FetLife is PlaySmart.

When I was first starting phone sex, around my 40th birthday, I wrote about choosing the name Galiana, and whether or not Galiana is my real name in some sense.

Along the way, I told a few callers my legal name, for various reasons. The guy I met real-time with sugar daddy tendencies. The first caller I told that I loved him, and from the same blog entry, the man who fell asleep to my voice for a while. The one who helped me start accepting my Inner Whore. The guy in a wheelchair who has become a great friend. The one who fleshed out the non-flesh part of me.

But ironically, I had not yet told the man who is secretly the real reason I'm still writing blog entries - according to him, anyway - the one who helped me know I could do the job of phone sex. He would have gotten my name from me sooner or later. He has his ways.

Now I'm wondering who's gonna get pissed that I never told them, or that I told them and then left them off the list. In my defense, my memory has been well-documented as terrible. But no, I'll leave the list there, with all its almost-certain-to-result-in-a-complaint awkwardness, because it's interesting to me to get lost a little in those memories.

When I told someone the name Angela, it was always a matter of trust, that they didn't wish me harm. It was always a matter of respect, especially respect for my marriage and my life situation. It was always a moment of intimacy, when I believed that they would feel something in their gut in a deeper way if I told them.

But these days, it's only complicating to have such bold lines drawn between Angela and Galiana. The truth is, I would welcome any of my old callers as FetLife friends, and I am secure enough in my guard dogs, my marriage, my kinky community which includes a policeman, and my crazy home where people irregularly come and go (anybody trying to case our house would be quite frustrated) to trust that I am at least as safe as other public-facing kinksters who give away equal amounts of information. Plus, I don't have kids to protect, so my stakes are lower. Much lower.

Besides, I'm not producing things as Galiana anymore. I never log in to FetLife as Galiana, and the thought of keeping both FetLife profiles maintained is overwhelming right now. So this blog, and my FetLife handle of PlaySmart are the best ways to keep in touch with me. I've been wanting to open that up for months. I haven't talked myself out of it. This blog post is a good excuse to open that up.

So, anyway, I wrote this for some friends on FetLife. I thought a few of you might enjoy it.

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It started as a joke of sorts. Our domo house servant for the Formal Dinner asked what I wanted as my place setting name (calligraphy done by hand, of course), and since I was playing the role of "Lady of the House" for the evening, being served by literally a dozen willing servants, I answered "Lady Angela". We giggled a lot about the name. So everyone called me Lady Angela for the evening, even though I left a trail of accidental sequins from my clearly-not-well-made dress wherever I went.

At Spanksgiving the weekend before, someone had called me elegant. I believe my response was to guffaw. Maybe I snorted. Me? What? No.

I see myself as dorky, goofy, geeky, and klutzy. Oh sure, I can be fun and smart and sexy, too, but in a cute dorky way. At best, I'm the eccentric, nutty professor; at worst, one of those coltish young women in the Girls Gone Wild video commercials falling over and crashing into things (and why is there always at least one of those?!? what is the appeal?).

But the name stuck, even after the party. I assumed it was kind of a loving teasing thing, like my childhood experience of being a tomboy who fell out of trees a lot - new bruises and scrapes were usually greeted with a grinning, "Way to go, Grace" from my dad. The phrase "Way to go, Grace" still makes me roll my eyes.

Shortly after the Formal Dinner, I had a couple of new offers to provide service to me. Like fetish service. To me. I mean, yes, sure, I already have a cross-dressing fetish servant, but I consider him an anomalous reminder of my abnormal life, and a practical bit of help, not a sign that I am overall deserving of Service in some way. Because I honestly don't think I am. I mean, I'm able to receive Service and understand why it feeds someone and appreciate it as a gift, but I don't deserve it.

So then people who know me and love me started seriously suggesting I change my Fet name. Really know me. Really love me. And... they weren't making fun of me. They were honestly seeing some good fit between me - bumbling clumsy me - and the term "Lady".

Lady? Really? A college roommate had a publicly stated goal to "turn me into a lady" our senior year, because I was such a goofy tomboy. She has since often declared me one of her greatest failures, because I still curse, and knock things over, and cross my legs wrong, and prefer to wear comfy pants, and turn and start walking and run into walls (even before the vertigo!). I literally publicly failed at being ladylike in any way in my formative years. That's how much not "Lady Angela" I am.

So I started asking my loved ones why they liked the name for me. They pointed out ways I graciously allowed others to assist me (which caused me to ask for more assistance, which further reinforced the idea). They pointed out ways other people irrationally went along with my narcissistic suggestions (like me hijacking someone else's New Year's Eve party so I could get smooches an hour early). They pointed out strengths I took for granted ("you always seem to have a plan, even if you're making it up" and "you almost always stay calm even when others are freaking out" and "you don't get flustered when people say no, so it makes people want to say yes to you" and "you're good at being grateful and saying thanks, so people want to help you" and "you give a lot, so people want to give back to you").

I would never go so far as to call myself elegant, because that implies I wouldn't burp out loud (I totally do), or get my hands dirty when there's work to be done (I totally do), or enjoy lowbrow things like velveeta-based queso (I totally do) or eating spoonfuls of peanut butter straight out of the jar (I totally do, all the time).

But I guess I can see that I'm gracious sometimes, that I tend to expect the best from the people around me, and that expectation of goodness frequently ends up bringing out the best in people. It's amazing to me how that works.

So although I have been uncomfortable with being called Lady Angela because it feels pretentious or demanding, I hate rejecting an idea purely out of insecurity. I try to treat insecurity was a sign, pointing to something I probably need to ponder.

I think maybe the name "Lady Angela" reflects parts of me that I love, that I strive to be, but that I often dismiss or undervalue. And yet, the reality is, in this kinkster world, I've tried to give people spaces to get questions answered, to encourage people to explore their desires, to give gentle nudges and mischievous grins to bolster courage, to set an example of seeing myself as sexy eye candy (even with a heavier-than-average body shape), and to encourage others to embrace their sexy, too.

It started as kind of "well, since I can't play very often because of my physical limitations, at least I can help others have fun." And that focus has reinforced my compersion, my ability to enjoy the joy radiating off others. And the more transitive joy I develop, the more I want to encourage others' joy... I can see how my compersion is a little Lady-Angela-ish.

I have opened my home, and I have opened my heart, as wide as I can without overextending myself (well, okay, sometimes I overextend, but I try not to). I can see how that's a little Lady-Angela-ish.

And before my December party, I found myself saying things like, "I told guests that if they arrive early for the party they'd be put to work, so don't worry about the disassembled Christmas tree in the living room - the minions will take care of it" ... and realizing that I honestly do have willing minions to help me set up my home. I mean, not full-time, but certainly for community events I'm organizing. So yeah, okay, that's definitely Lady-Angela-ish.

But then there are utterly practical considerations: I intend to re-activate my professional life as Galiana Chance when I can. One profile will stay my personal one, and Galiana will be my professional one, but I have decided to link the two, and explain the differences on each profile. My professional foray will be a podcast, I think, and right now, I want to call it "Play Smart with Galiana".

I love the idea of having my personal, community, real-life profile named PlaySmart, and my professional, link-to-all-my-podcasts-and-blog-posts profile named Galiana, because then in order to get the full picture of everything I'm doing, you'd have to have PlaySmart with Galiana. Get it?

See? Dorky. I told you.

But then there are introductions. How do I introduce myself if I'm a sex podcaster with two Fet names, neither or which are Angela? PlaySmart? Galiana? Angela? Lady Angela? The Girl With Too Many Frikkin Names? Thankfully, I think the scene is used to people having multiple personalities, so I think everyone will figure it out eventually.

Ultimately, at a gut level, I love it when people choose to call me Lady Angela. But I don't think I'll ever ask anyone to call me that. I love it as a pet name, a term of endearment, or even friendly kidding when I do something supremely unladylike.

But for those of you who have thought of me that way, thank you. You've held up an interesting mirror for me to look into, and I have enjoyed the view. And I look forward to continuing to discover parts of myself there. And I very much look forward to doing what I can to help my minions be the best they can be as well.

Galiana as Lady Angela

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Then about a week after I wrote all that on FetLife, a local friend gave me this:

Lady Angela's peanut butter

It's a jar of my favorite brand of peanut butter, labeled "Lady Angela", with a spoon taped to it. I'm saving it forever. I mean, not the peanut butter - I'm eating that! But the labeled jar with the spoon.

I have the bestest life ever.

Woman of Leisure

It's been about seven months now since I felt like I was physically capable of sustaining a phone sex call in a manner worthy of charging for it. My current neurological makeup seems to favor activities which provide a lot of joy, but require very little concentration, and if either of those aren't true, I run out of steam quickly.

Writing for this blog has been oddly difficult as well. There are stories I want to tell, but I haven't been able to figure out how to tell them here. I write things on FetLife, for my in-flesh kinkster friends who have become my community and local family of choice. Some day I'll figure out how to translate them here as well.

I was talking last night with someone who has also had an online "persona" which dropped off his radar when he got busy or overwhelmed. I don't think Galiana is a "persona" in the traditional sense, because Galiana is all honestly me (except the name), but Galiana is ... filtered me, focused me, a version of me that has been seen through a filter of "ready for the world and ready to please", and maybe that's the filter that I haven't been able to sustain lately.

Thankfully, though, in the midst of this season of not being able to focus on someone else's energy and match it consistently or for any predictable length of time, we settled my disability claim, which has provided significant financial breathing room for now. It would make me nuts not to do anything financially productive forever, unless I really couldn't come up with anything I can consistently commit to.

Also thankfully, I have ample opportunities to do activities which provide a lot of joy, but require very little concentration.

Indulge me, if you will, fine ladies and sirs, as I describe to you the life of Galiana Chance, Woman of Leisure.

Throwing Parties
There's an odd phenomenon with hosting a party. On one hand, yes, having a party requires a lot of concentration, especially with as picky as we are about the physical setup and the cheese selection. It's important. Don't judge.

But my home has the giant advantage of an easy escape to a comfy bed. It's unrealistic to expect other people to set up a separate vertigo station for me. The ability to take a break for an hour or two makes it much much easier to throw a party.

Also, our guests are good about helping clean up, bless their sweet hearts. I think it's a pity thing. And I'm okay with that.

So, every month, we've been throwing a shindig for 15-30 of my closest friends. And I've been attending a few shindigs that others throw, although I wish I could attend all of them.

Hosting a Meet n Greet
I felt like the local kinkster scene was missing a monthly event specifically geared for (a) people who get vertigo in crowds to have an escape hatch, and (b) to help newcomers feel welcomed and give them a way to meet other local kinksters. So I started one. It's a munch / meet n greet / open public meeting, whatever you want to call it.

It's extremely simple, and the layout is such that I can sit outside the room where the crowd is gathered, and I can talk with the few people at a time who are hanging out by the bar, under the auspices of "I'm watching for people entering so they can get a name tag". But really, it's way easier on my vertigo to be out by the bar. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone. We're averaging 30-40 people per month, which wildly exceeds my expectations.

When the Meet n Greet is on the same weekend as the parties we host at our house, I spend the whole week reserving energy for them. By the end of the night, I'm either sacked out upstairs with a cuddle buddy, or I'm endlessly grazing in the snack room, glassy-eyed, giving hugs and encouraging people to make fun of me. I'm useless for two days afterward, but it's fun, and it's worth it.

Halloween Season
We attended one kinkster costume-encouraged Halloween party, and we threw one. I went the lazy route with store-bought costumes from a local lingerie boutique / sex toy shop.

At home, I was the referee, where people kept offering to blow my whistle, and then offering to play me some horrible song about whistle blowing which I am clearly too old and grumpy to properly appreciate.

The one someone else hosted, I was "Major Tease" as it said on my name thing on my costume, but it was hotly debated whether I was a "tease" or a "slut" if I let multiple people grab my boobs. There was empirical testing done.

It was during this season of spirits that I decided my primary role at most parties is to be the best eye candy I can be, plus encourage my friends to grope me, and each other. Also, I engineer hookups for other people: play partners, smooching buddies, and cold girls with my eternally-warm-handed lover. I like the kinds of trouble I cause.

Spanksgiving

I know at least two people in St Louis who are going to be super mad to discover this information this way, but ... The week before Thanksgiving, I went to the StL3 Spanksgiving conference, where I changed outfits far more often than was necessary.

I forgot to take pictures of at least two outfits at the conference. The costume changes were seriously out of hand. But super ridiculous fun. Cameras aren't allowed in the main area, so the pics were in side areas or bathrooms, but that was the best I had. I felt like a stripper about to go onstage all weekend, but people kept telling me they loved my outfits, so what was I gonna do, disappoint them by staying in one outfit? Pffff. Clearly not.

I spent a wonderful, affirming weekend learning, smooching, getting groped, getting spanked, and distracting the off-duty cops working security. It's not my fault one of them is 6'8" and gorgeous and has a British accent! What was I supposed to do, let him feel neglected? When he works so hard to protect and serve? Noooooo, clearly the right thing to do was to bring him women and let him whisper naughty things in their ear so he could watch them melt. And maybe offer to let all the cops grope me, including the woman cop. It's not my fault I was raised to be friendly and inclusive.

But seriously, the presentations were amazing, the company was spectacular (Devant also had an amazing weekend - she got her name cut into her shoulder with a scalpel! Yeouch! She loved it), and the energy was fantastic. By the end of Saturday, I was a loopy weirdo space cadet, but I was getting so much happy energy that I just kept wandering around soaking it up. Thankfully, nobody expected me to be coherent. Whew.

Thanksgiving & The Formal Dinner

We had Thanksgiving dinner with several friends who did not have family-of-birth plans, and it ended up being a delightful family-of-choice time, with mind-blowingly delicious food and lovely conversation. I realized I was still recovering from Spanksgiving, which had ended four days earlier, when the spirited multi-way conversation going on around me no longer made sense, as if everyone was speaking gibberish.

That was when I understood for the first time that my vertigo crashes had adapted to stimulus of pleasant social overload by blocking my cognitive processes instead of giving me overwhelmingly unpleasant whirling sensations. Oh, silly Brain. Thanks for the adaptation. How about you work on adapting to not be dizzy at all? No? Okay, well then, I'll take "pleasantly confused" as a consolation prize.

A mere two days later, we had a Formal Dinner at our home, where people who wanted to be in service/submission for the evening literally served the rest of us, as if the ones being served were Victorian lords and ladies. I was asked? forced? encouraged? to step out of the limelight and let other submissives in the community organize and arrange everything. It was harrrrrrd! I kept wanting to help with stuff! But they were all mean to me and made me sit back and relax and be served! Crazy!

Our home looked amazing, with table linens and individual menus made especially for the event, and I honestly had to do very little in support. It was easily the most delicious dinner I have ever had outside of a fancy restaurant. And honestly, more delicious than some Zagat-rated meals I've had. Each of the four courses caused at least one foodgasm. And how do you top the memory of having flaming bananas foster in your house?!? It was so amazing that it felt like a dream. Was I really served ... in my home ... by a bunch of willing submissives ... exquisite pork loin and perfect mushroom risotto and creme brulee that brought tears to my eyes? In my home? I'll never forget it.

Then we went to someone else's home for a lovely play party afterward, where I got spanked a bit. It was a mild scene in terms of BDSM culture, but it was enough to melt me into a pile of useless vapid staring and giggles, so I became the after-care zombie cuddle buddy, which suited me quite well.

And More

That was just October and November. In December, I went to three kinkster holiday parties, one of which we hosted, and traveled back to Texas to see my awesome family. There were a lot of outfit changes. And I smooched a lot of girls. And I made my teddy bear servant cum without touching him (heh, that was fun). And my husband and I rekindled some mischievous energy. It was a fantastic month.

I got to confirm my growing understanding of my limits without the pressure of wanting to save energy for work, and the truth is that I can go a long long way socially, as long as nobody asks me to calculate a tip, remember the name of anything or anyone, or solve a puzzle involving rearranging objects in a limited amount of space. I would be utterly useless without my phone chirping reminders and storing lists for me, but I've figured out how to use it to manage around the lapses in my unfortunately spotty memory.

What I Can't Do These Days

Thank you for all the emails and twitters of concern over the past few months. The truth is, my vertigo isn't doing particularly well. I'm often confused. I often feel unable to drive safely, even short trips in town. I spend a lot of days on my own, snuggling with my dogs and limiting my sensory stimulation.

I thought maybe I'd be able to start up a podcast. I'm sure I would have a modest, loyal audience if I launched it. So for most of January, I slowed down my social calendar and tried to build enough juice to make it happen.

It turns out, I can't. It's not that I don't want to, I just can't. I can't sustain the concentration I need to do even short bursts of podcasting, because there are so many other technical pieces which go along with the podcast, other than just the recording, and I can't get myself from here to there. Not yet. I hope someday, but not yet. That's been understandably disappointing.

And clearly, I can't write blogs very often. This one took me two weeks. I'll keep doing it, as I can, because I like keeping in touch with the few readers who continue to pop in. And I like having it to return to when I get better again. Hi! Thank you for still checking here! Mmmmmmmwuh!

What I Can Do These Days

I am obviously finding ways to enjoy myself in this season. Clearly, I'm not suffering. I'm attempting to let go of the shame and sorrow of not feeling productive. I'm over-compensating by telling my friends on FetLife my opinions of their personal issues way more often than I probably should.

And sometimes, I have given people a different perspective on their situations in ways they have found helpful. Or at least they've told me it was helpful, which was nice. So I'm doing best to be an encouragement to my in-person friends and family here.

Since I can't figure out how to do financially productive work anymore, I have gone back to trying new anti-vertigo medicines. The first one was hopeful at first, but after 4 days, I had horrible rebound, so that was an unfortunate no. It made me go back and try a few fast-acting ones that had worked in the past, but they all had the same effects as before.

Today is Day 4 of a new medicine that needs to build up slowly in my bloodstream. I can't tell what it's doing exactly, but I did have the urge yesterday to talk like a hick all day. Really. This big, fat Texan twang kept coming out of my mouth. It was deeply amusing. It seems to be gone today, but it certainly counts as the most bizarre and hilarious possible side effect yet.

So I'm doing the best I can do with what I have in this season. It is good enough. I am extraordinarily grateful that if I have to be in a season where I can't be financially productive, at least I don't have to worry about bills being paid. It's a good life, and I'm glad I get to live it.

As always, feel free to drop me an email (see the Contact and Links page) any time to check up on me, tell me your good news, tell me your sad news, whatever. I'll write back when I can, but it often won't be right away.

First Stand Up

I happened to be at an open mic for stand-up, so I decided to try my hand. I've suspected I wouldn't be horrible at it, and sure enough, it wasn't horrible (except for about 45 seconds near the beginning, which I edited out).

Enjoy :)



And if anybody feels like transcribing it so I can have the whole text of it at the end of this blog post, please feel free to do so and send it to me.

PSO FAQ

I've been asked a lot of questions about being a Phone Sex Operator, so I thought I'd pull together a Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ). Enjoy!

What does PSO stand for?

Phone Sex Operator, which I've been since July 2010.

Why did you become a Phone Sex Operator?

I was a theater major (1988-1992), who became a self-taught learn-on-the-job programmer/data analyst/tech consultant/business analyst/IT manager (1995-2009), then I came down with a mysterious neurological vertigo that makes me feel drunk all the time and prevents me from managing geeks (2009-present).

When I found a medicine that balanced my brain chemistry enough to allow me to talk on the phone, answer emails, and write blog entries now and then, I realized I had the skills to try being a phone whore, so I tried it, I love it SO MUCH I CAN'T STAND IT, and I'm still doing it!

Why did you choose NiteFlirt (and MyPhoneSite, which I started doing later)?

I researched phone sex companies by doing something brilliant like googling "phone sex jobs", and talked with my friend who had done NiteFlirt.com (which works the same way MyPhoneSite.com does in terms of starting up). Here's what I found:

- The Basics : NiteFlirt, MyPhoneSite, VIPWithMe, TalkSugar, and a few other similar sites are essentially platforms for independent PSOs (I'll lump them all together as "NiteFlirt" or "NF" for the rest of this post, but I probably mean all of them unless I specify otherwise), so you set up your own ads (listings), and you don't report to anybody. When you work with a phone sex company like LDW Group or one of the 800 numbers in the back of porn mags (which I'll call "a company" or "companies"), they set up your listing for you, and you report to someone.

- Schedule : Many companies require 40 hours a week, or for you to maintain a set schedule. I am incapable of committing to any type of regular schedule (see vertigo above), so that disqualified most of them for me. NiteFlirt lets you log in and out as you wish. Typically, the more time you're available, the better you do.

- Traffic : Companies drive their own traffic by putting out ads, etc, but some of them also require you to drive traffic by participating in chat rooms, blogging, or other activities. You should be able to quickly build a full shift of calls with a company. NiteFlirt specifically has tremendous traffic (in the top 100 adult sites on Alexa - by far the highest of any phone-sex-focused website), but also has thousands of active providers, so the competition is fierce. Many independent PSOs choose to help drive traffic by having blogs, twitter, taking out ads, etc, but you don't have to. I've heard anecdotally that many people take three to six months to build a full shift of calls, and even then, it's much less steady and much less of a sure thing than with companies.

- Time-to-income ratio : Many independents (NiteFlirt, etc) spend 2-4 hours being available for calls for every hour they spend actually on a phone call getting paid. From what I understand of companies (although I've never worked for one), it's more like 1 hour of available for each hour of talk, and that improves as you build regular favorites.

- Pay Rate : On NiteFlirt, you set your own rate and make 60-65% of the rate you set. Other independent sites go as high as 70%. The exact NF formula is: (YourRate - 0.20/min) * 70%. So if your rate is $0.99/min, you'll get $0.55/min and if your rate is $1.49/min, you'll get $0.90/min, and if your rate is $1.99/min, you'll get $1.25/min. Companies typically pay 30-70 cents per minute of talk time.

The most I made in a week was $1,700, and my rate was $0.99/min at the time - but I was available about 80 hours that week, and that included tributes (like tips, and you get to keep 70%) and Amazon gift cards (which I count as income). However, most weeks when I'm available at least 50 hours, I usually make between $600-$1000. The less I'm available, the less predictable my income. I know women who make more, and women who make less. Your mileage WILL CERTAINLY vary. For planning purposes, I guesstimate an average of $20/hour when I'm available.

- Taxes : Independent sites DO NOT take out taxes, so you have to send in self-employment taxes quarterly (if you're in the US). I don't know about companies.

- Pay Schedule : NiteFlirt wins this one hands down: if you set up direct deposit, they sweep your earnings out of your account EVERY DAY and send them to your bank, where they are usually directly deposited about a week later, depending on your bank and other logistics -- that rocks. Most independents and companies pay one or two times per month, although some more frequently.

- Getting Customers : The easiest way to build customers as an independent is to start cheap -- if you're $0.99/min you will get calls once your listing is started. The irrational thing about getting your listing started on NiteFlirt is that you don't show up in searches until you have at least 2 points (you get points by having a 15-minute call or from someone leaving you feedback). So, to get your listing started without breaking any rules (because you are NOT allowed to call yourself or leave your own feedback), your best bet is to have a friend or lover make an account and call you (spend at least $2 so s/he's allowed to leave feedback), and then leave feedback. If you have a couple of willing friends, then "seed" your account this way up to 10 or 20 points - after that, the calls will come in on their own. Yes, this is ethically questionable, but as long as there isn't a way to search for new listings, it's the best way to work around a broken system.

If you're above $0.99/min then you'll just have to wait - one of the top providers on NiteFlirt started a listing at $2.49/minute on a whim (she was unemployed, but a lifestyle Mistress in real life), and left herself logged in for three months, totally forgetting about it, but remembered when the first call came in, and she got lucky and that guy stayed on with her for two hours and sent her tributes and helped rocket her to the top of the listings, where it's easier for people to find you.

Twitter, blog, ads, chat, skype -- your mileage may vary on those. Some people swear by each of them, some people got nothing from each of them.

If you're with a company, they should be driving calls to you, or telling you what to do to drive calls.

Either way, as an independent or with a company, your best way to get customers is to make your existing callers happy so they return. Repeat customers are the easiest, by far far far far far. I can't stress that enough: the easiest way to get phone calls is to please the callers you get.

- Availability : If you're independent, the best way to drive more calls is to be available more often. If you're available at the same time most days, guys start building you into their habitual routines, which is how to make good money. You can't log in for a different 10 hours each week and expect to be busy. Consistency and availability are your friends.

- Multiple Characters : Some PSOs create multiple characters, where each character has a different look and feel. If you're using your own pictures, wigs and outfits and camera angles can do wonders, as can colors and fonts and word choices on your listings. If you're buying someone else's pictures (also called "content") then you can just buy a different set. Since I've never bought content, I'm no help there, but I understand most PSOs guard their content sources as if it were the arc of the covenant... It's very difficult to find models that nobody else is using.

I did, however, create another character using suggestive pictures of my eyes / lips / decolletage, and I had a different speech pattern and a fictional back story for her. Logistically, I found it dizzying (literally) to be logged into multiple characters at once, because you have about 20 seconds from the time you pick up the phone to when the phone call starts to log out of your other characters. But it is clearly true that creating more characters, and having your listings on multiple services, drives more traffic. In the end, I can't do it well - I feel guilty and awkward about keeping details straight on a fictional persona, and I find the logistics stressful when I'm logged into multiple services or multiple characters.

I know some industry people might be shocked or angry that I put this information on a public blog, because it reveals the "industry secret" that sometimes the pictures on a listing are not the actual pictures of the person you're talking with. However, I'm okay sharing it because (a) it's not a well-kept secret (b) not everyone uses content - I know lots of providers who use their own pictures (c) the PSOs who use content pictures often have good reasons to do so, like having school-aged children at home and a crazy ex-husband who would sue for custody if they were discovered, (d) it's clear that many providers using content pictures are amazing at their jobs as well as doing the right thing to protect their family, and finally (e) phone sex, to me, is best when two people are mutually experiencing the energy of a fantasy, and I think that is primarily about the connection - you can have amazing phone sex with someone while picturing their voice coming from someone else's body. So it doesn't matter to me, and I know it doesn't matter to a lot of phone sex callers.

Other Thoughts

- Creepers and Safety : Yes, you'll get creepy calls, but I've talked with over 1,000 men, and I've only blocked 5. Other PSOs have much higher ratios, but still, most callers are genuinely nice people. Your phone number and your identity is protected by the service, so they can only find you if you give them enough information to find you (from your blog, twitter, what you say). Your phone number is protected because they call the service and then the service calls you, but there is no way for either of you to see the other person's number.

- Video : The highest per-minute rates are usually for women who are willing to do videos or go on camera by the minute instead of just over the phone. But obviously, one of the appeals of being a PSO is that you can be anonymous, so if you need to be anonymous, you absolutely can make it to the front page of NiteFlirt by using someone else's pictures... in fact, on any given day, probably at least one person has.

- My Blog : I have blogged ridiculous amounts about being a PSO. If you look at the Categories and click PSO and its subcategories, you'll get more complicated thoughts, and be able to see how my ideas have evolved over time.

More Questions?

I actually kinda love talking about this, so feel free to comment if you have more questions, and I'll try to incorporate the more common ones I may have missed by editing this post.

The truth is, I love to help new PSOs, and help people who are considering becoming PSOs, when I can. Other people helped me when I first started. It's good karma!

Heart of a Girlfriend, Imagination of a Whore

I have a new tagline: Galiana Chance, Phone Sex Operator with the Heart of a Girlfriend, Imagination of a Whore.

I made new banners, too! I love that the pictures were taken very recently (less than a month ago), so I don't feel guilty about having my first pictures be over a year old old. Good. Grief. Time flies.

I took the picture on the left before the kinky Christmas party where my husband and I first met Devant (iPhone self-portrait for the win), and the one of the right was my photo shoot with Sir Wallter.

I just realized (after testing the phrase on a dozen people, making the banners, and posting the banner on my blog) that I used to have problems with both the word "girlfriend" and "whore", and yet now, here I am, using them to summarize myself. I'm nothing if not ever-changing. That's good, right? In a "the unexamined life is not worth living" kind of a way? Or does it just mean that I have loose mental morals as well as sexual ones? It's hard to tell.

Anyway, for a while, I didn't like the phrase "girlfriend experience" (also known in the business as GFE), because I had unpleasant associations with the word "girlfriend" (I went to a liberal arts university in the early 90s - I can totally redefine words!), but my objections seem to have melted away since I've picked up a new in-person lover who likes to call me his girlfriend. Awwww. Now the word makes me all happy. Plus, even before that, several callers had let me know they feel like I'm girlfriend-ey with them, which was enough to melt my resistance.

I also used to shy away from the word "whore", probably mostly out of my pride as claiming myself as a slut. I don't have to get paid to fuck, dammit! I'm a slut! Oh, wait, but now I do get paid to (phone) fuck, so now I'm a... ? Ummmm. Yep, yep, yep, I'm a whore.

So here I am, announcing myself as a girlfriend/whore. Archetype much, Galiana? It's not quite Madonna/whore, but it's in the same vein. Maybe when I choose my next tagline, I'll have to go to back to pagan mythos and pitch myself as a maiden-matron-crone...

One day, I'll at least attempt to think of my readers instead of just amusing myself. Maybe. Don't hold your breath for that, though.

Back on target: the tagline. I like it because I think it's true: I care. I give a shit. I have a big fuzzy heart. What the person on the other end of the phone feels matters to me. And inside that caring is a whole big wide world of deliciously erotic ideas waiting to bubble out at the slightest provocation (and sometimes even with no provocation, to customer service representatives over the phone, but that's another story altogether...).

I'd love to know what you think!