Showing posts with label name. Show all posts
Showing posts with label name. Show all posts
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Question of the Day
Since my two other usernames have been dormant for so long while I'm (ostensibly) rewriting them, I am considering renaming them as well as reworking them.
The one that was known as "Mistress Galiana" (which I'm about halfway done rewriting) will be changing to "Ms Galiana". I considered and rejected "Lady Galiana" "Queen Galiana" "Domme Galiana" "Vixen Galiana" "Minx Galiana" "Goddess Galiana" "Galiana In Charge" "Galiana Leads" and plain old "Galiana Chance". My reasons for rejection were many, but it basically boils down to "I think too much about details like this, but fer fuxx sake just pick one already".
I was planning on leaving my hypnosis-focused username as is: "Hypno Galiana" but a long-time caller suggested the possibility of "Galiana Trance".
I can't decide if it's wonderful, or too clever for my own good (or, y'know, both).
Your opinion is eagerly requested.
The one that was known as "Mistress Galiana" (which I'm about halfway done rewriting) will be changing to "Ms Galiana". I considered and rejected "Lady Galiana" "Queen Galiana" "Domme Galiana" "Vixen Galiana" "Minx Galiana" "Goddess Galiana" "Galiana In Charge" "Galiana Leads" and plain old "Galiana Chance". My reasons for rejection were many, but it basically boils down to "I think too much about details like this, but fer fuxx sake just pick one already".
I was planning on leaving my hypnosis-focused username as is: "Hypno Galiana" but a long-time caller suggested the possibility of "Galiana Trance".
I can't decide if it's wonderful, or too clever for my own good (or, y'know, both).
Your opinion is eagerly requested.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Variety Fetish
I have finally realized what my fetish is: variety.
The definition of having a fetish that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation which you require in order to achieve sexual satisfaction.
The definition of having a kink that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation that is unusual or non-mainstream which you enjoy.
By those definitions, I don't have a fetish for any particular activity, because the activities of any one sexual encounter may be completely different than the activities of another sexual encounter, and I can find both encounters thoroughly satisfying.
But here's what I could never find satisfying: the same encounter, with the same partner, over and over, with nothing else in the mix. And really, I need to switch both factors regularly to have a sex life that is satisfying to me on the whole: I need different activities, and I need different partners. Because while trying different activities with the same partner is awesome and fun, and while trying the same activities with different partners is awesome and fun, the real big bang of happiness for me is having both.
On a related note, have I mentioned how much I fucking love my job?
Yes, I can hear your question, and yes, I do understand that the concept of variety and the concept of fetish as I have defined it here are fundamentally at odds with one another. Perhaps that contributes to why I love the idea of claiming my variety fetish so much. Not only do I think it accurately describes my sexual proclivities, it is also inherently emotionally and intellectually complex.
Perfect.
And back to the definitions, to explain a bit more fully, I think it is most accurate to say that I have a variety fetish with a wide range of kinks, because the list of kinky activities I enjoy is long and distinguished. Feel free to check out my FetLife profile (membership is required to view my profile, but membership is free, easy, confidential, does not result in spam, and could help you find kinky / educational events in your area and yes, you're free to friend me). I chose from FetLife's list of "Fetishes" according to my definition of the word kinks. By perusing only their most popular 63 choices, I am interested in 42. A quick glance at the complete list suggests I would end up with hundreds if I were being thorough.
Callers often ask me what gets me off, what I like, what is my fetish. Since listing several dozen actions, or launching into discourse about the definition of fetish versus kink seems unlikely to be what most callers want, I developed a bit of a decision tree to help narrow the discussion. But sometimes, even the tree is too much, so if I'm feeling a vibe of "just pick something so I can get off and know I've made you happy", then I choose something that honestly sounds good.
On the one hand, it is not a lie to reach into a bag of truth and pull out one item, but on the other hand, it is not the entire truth. But back to the first hand, it is efficient to pick something and go with it. And it is also good customer service not to chat aimlessly with a man who's ready for action. And if it turns out I was wrong and he ends up in a talky mood, it is easy enough to go back and open up the conversation.
But it has bothered me that I didn't know a concise, simple, elegant answer to the question, "What turns you on?" Whether or not I use the answer in every situation doesn't matter; I wanted to know it for myself. Surely one existed, and on some far back burner, it was simmering.
Then about three weeks ago, I heard myself giving a new answer to the question of what I like: "Whatever I haven't done lately." I guess that caller was giving off the energy of wanting some discourse, because it was an answer that had never popped out of my mouth before, and it obviously needed some unpacking before it would lead to picking what kind of fucking we were going to do. Thankfully, my instinct was on target; we had an interesting conversation about our mutual prurient interests and why we both self-identified as sluts, and then we had scorchingly hot sex.
(side note about that call: it's funny, but I don't remember what actions we did, but I clearly remember calling his name when I came so hard I flipped over and curled into a ball)
While musing after the call, I came up with the term "diversity fetish", but I knew it wasn't exactly right, because it sounds like an interracial thing. And while I absolutely love men and women of every skin tone, it is irrelevant to my satisfaction. I want a package full of enthusiasm and intelligence and creativity far more than I notice how the package is wrapped.
Then a few days ago, I was explaining a slightly condensed version of this blog post to a regular caller who likes to talk theory, and the word variety tumbled out of my mouth, and I saw the shiny glint of gold on the end of my pick-axe, and I rode into town, triumphant, and bought the Inner Cast a round at the saloon and got myself a date with my Inner Whore to rejoice. (Inner Whore was happy to see me again, of course - she's a lovely darling sweetheart, that one is... Wait, why did I just turn Irish?)
So, Galiana, what do you like to do in bed? What gets your motor running? What do you love? Can you answer that in five words or less?
I can. "Variety fetish, with many kinks."
Booyah.
(related news: I changed my tagline from "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, PSO (phone sex operator)" to "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, a Phone Sex Operator with a fetish for variety" ... I reserve the right to continue mucking with the wording at my whim)
The definition of having a fetish that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation which you require in order to achieve sexual satisfaction.
The definition of having a kink that makes the most sense to me is: sexual stimulation that is unusual or non-mainstream which you enjoy.
By those definitions, I don't have a fetish for any particular activity, because the activities of any one sexual encounter may be completely different than the activities of another sexual encounter, and I can find both encounters thoroughly satisfying.
But here's what I could never find satisfying: the same encounter, with the same partner, over and over, with nothing else in the mix. And really, I need to switch both factors regularly to have a sex life that is satisfying to me on the whole: I need different activities, and I need different partners. Because while trying different activities with the same partner is awesome and fun, and while trying the same activities with different partners is awesome and fun, the real big bang of happiness for me is having both.
On a related note, have I mentioned how much I fucking love my job?
Yes, I can hear your question, and yes, I do understand that the concept of variety and the concept of fetish as I have defined it here are fundamentally at odds with one another. Perhaps that contributes to why I love the idea of claiming my variety fetish so much. Not only do I think it accurately describes my sexual proclivities, it is also inherently emotionally and intellectually complex.
Perfect.
And back to the definitions, to explain a bit more fully, I think it is most accurate to say that I have a variety fetish with a wide range of kinks, because the list of kinky activities I enjoy is long and distinguished. Feel free to check out my FetLife profile (membership is required to view my profile, but membership is free, easy, confidential, does not result in spam, and could help you find kinky / educational events in your area and yes, you're free to friend me). I chose from FetLife's list of "Fetishes" according to my definition of the word kinks. By perusing only their most popular 63 choices, I am interested in 42. A quick glance at the complete list suggests I would end up with hundreds if I were being thorough.
Callers often ask me what gets me off, what I like, what is my fetish. Since listing several dozen actions, or launching into discourse about the definition of fetish versus kink seems unlikely to be what most callers want, I developed a bit of a decision tree to help narrow the discussion. But sometimes, even the tree is too much, so if I'm feeling a vibe of "just pick something so I can get off and know I've made you happy", then I choose something that honestly sounds good.
On the one hand, it is not a lie to reach into a bag of truth and pull out one item, but on the other hand, it is not the entire truth. But back to the first hand, it is efficient to pick something and go with it. And it is also good customer service not to chat aimlessly with a man who's ready for action. And if it turns out I was wrong and he ends up in a talky mood, it is easy enough to go back and open up the conversation.
But it has bothered me that I didn't know a concise, simple, elegant answer to the question, "What turns you on?" Whether or not I use the answer in every situation doesn't matter; I wanted to know it for myself. Surely one existed, and on some far back burner, it was simmering.
Then about three weeks ago, I heard myself giving a new answer to the question of what I like: "Whatever I haven't done lately." I guess that caller was giving off the energy of wanting some discourse, because it was an answer that had never popped out of my mouth before, and it obviously needed some unpacking before it would lead to picking what kind of fucking we were going to do. Thankfully, my instinct was on target; we had an interesting conversation about our mutual prurient interests and why we both self-identified as sluts, and then we had scorchingly hot sex.
(side note about that call: it's funny, but I don't remember what actions we did, but I clearly remember calling his name when I came so hard I flipped over and curled into a ball)
While musing after the call, I came up with the term "diversity fetish", but I knew it wasn't exactly right, because it sounds like an interracial thing. And while I absolutely love men and women of every skin tone, it is irrelevant to my satisfaction. I want a package full of enthusiasm and intelligence and creativity far more than I notice how the package is wrapped.
Then a few days ago, I was explaining a slightly condensed version of this blog post to a regular caller who likes to talk theory, and the word variety tumbled out of my mouth, and I saw the shiny glint of gold on the end of my pick-axe, and I rode into town, triumphant, and bought the Inner Cast a round at the saloon and got myself a date with my Inner Whore to rejoice. (Inner Whore was happy to see me again, of course - she's a lovely darling sweetheart, that one is... Wait, why did I just turn Irish?)
So, Galiana, what do you like to do in bed? What gets your motor running? What do you love? Can you answer that in five words or less?
I can. "Variety fetish, with many kinks."
Booyah.
(related news: I changed my tagline from "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, PSO (phone sex operator)" to "The Blogged Life of Galiana Chance, a Phone Sex Operator with a fetish for variety" ... I reserve the right to continue mucking with the wording at my whim)
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Mistaken Identities
Public Service Announcement (PSA) from your friendly neighborhood Phone Sex Operator (PSO):
Please keep in mind that your PSO is not told your identity / user name when you call, and cannot look it up until the call has been connected for at least a few seconds, and then only if she is at her computer and logged in to the right page, which is not always the case.
"Mistaken Identity" mishaps can possibly occur.
For example, if yesterday's call to the new Role Playing listing involved me being transformed from a physiologically normal human woman into a freakish sexbot with a 12-inch cock, testicles the size of grapefruit, and breasts the size of basketballs... then today when you call the same listing and tell me you're the robot guy but you didn't expect to be able to call again so soon, I may not immediately remember that a few days ago, you and I enjoyed a leisurely transformation fantasy where I wrapped you in a nanotech bodysuit and seduced you into joining me in post-human bliss. I may get confused and spend the first few minutes spouting phrases which would seem illogically inconsistent with our experiences together thus far.
Or if you have a delicious, sweet, gentle voice and identify yourself by only your first name, I may forget the luscious, slow, playful masturbation I guided you through last week, which caused me to record the note "happiest friendliest teasing masturbation ever", and may instead assume you are a frequent cross-dressing caller by the same name who considers herself a lesbian, but likes taking my strap-on. I could possibly then bafflingly ask you what you're wearing and refer to your genitalia by gender-switched pronouns.
I mean... of course those didn't both happen to me today. Back-to-back. That would just be horrible and unprofessional and mortifying. Don't be ridiculous. Of course not.
/facepalm
But to be on the safe side, to ensure that I will not involve you in someone else's fantasies and send you someone else's energy... please feel free to identify yourself by your user name as well as your first name, since the user name is unique in the system, and that's what I track on my spreadsheets for calls and feedback. Because "IHaveAPhoner" or "pkb216" are extraordinarily unlikely to confuse me. Or, equally effectively, you may work out a simple code name with me like "John in Missoula" or "Two-Hand Pete".
You know, not that it's a problem or anything, but it may work to your advantage if I were inexplicably confused one day...
(side note: I don't have callers with any of those names, but I'm irrationally amused by, and therefore proud of, "IHaveAPhoner"... Get it? It's like IHaveABoner but for phone sex? /giggle Wow, I'm a dork today)
This concludes our quarterly PSO PSA. Thank you for your attention.
Please keep in mind that your PSO is not told your identity / user name when you call, and cannot look it up until the call has been connected for at least a few seconds, and then only if she is at her computer and logged in to the right page, which is not always the case.
"Mistaken Identity" mishaps can possibly occur.
For example, if yesterday's call to the new Role Playing listing involved me being transformed from a physiologically normal human woman into a freakish sexbot with a 12-inch cock, testicles the size of grapefruit, and breasts the size of basketballs... then today when you call the same listing and tell me you're the robot guy but you didn't expect to be able to call again so soon, I may not immediately remember that a few days ago, you and I enjoyed a leisurely transformation fantasy where I wrapped you in a nanotech bodysuit and seduced you into joining me in post-human bliss. I may get confused and spend the first few minutes spouting phrases which would seem illogically inconsistent with our experiences together thus far.
Or if you have a delicious, sweet, gentle voice and identify yourself by only your first name, I may forget the luscious, slow, playful masturbation I guided you through last week, which caused me to record the note "happiest friendliest teasing masturbation ever", and may instead assume you are a frequent cross-dressing caller by the same name who considers herself a lesbian, but likes taking my strap-on. I could possibly then bafflingly ask you what you're wearing and refer to your genitalia by gender-switched pronouns.
I mean... of course those didn't both happen to me today. Back-to-back. That would just be horrible and unprofessional and mortifying. Don't be ridiculous. Of course not.
/facepalm
But to be on the safe side, to ensure that I will not involve you in someone else's fantasies and send you someone else's energy... please feel free to identify yourself by your user name as well as your first name, since the user name is unique in the system, and that's what I track on my spreadsheets for calls and feedback. Because "IHaveAPhoner" or "pkb216" are extraordinarily unlikely to confuse me. Or, equally effectively, you may work out a simple code name with me like "John in Missoula" or "Two-Hand Pete".
You know, not that it's a problem or anything, but it may work to your advantage if I were inexplicably confused one day...
(side note: I don't have callers with any of those names, but I'm irrationally amused by, and therefore proud of, "IHaveAPhoner"... Get it? It's like IHaveABoner but for phone sex? /giggle Wow, I'm a dork today)
This concludes our quarterly PSO PSA. Thank you for your attention.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Words, Lies, and Sighs
"The words you choose, they way they tumble out of your mouth, I can feel them hitting me, and they feel like truth." - a phone sex caller
"Words are what we make up, but those sighs, those are the truth." - another phone sex caller, a few days later
Yes.
Seriously, I have the best job in the world. Not only do I get paid to masturbate while relishing someone else's sexual energy, usually several times per day, but also, in post-coital pillow talk, sometimes people say the most interesting things. (Physical + Mental + Emotional) * Stimulation = Win
Oh yeah, I just turned something intensely sexy into algebra. Wow. I can't decide whether to feel mortified or victorious.
But back to the topic at hand... Words, and truth, and sighs, and lies.
Last night, I was role playing a "seduction" scene which had an element of blackmail in it. I said a few things, which, if taken out of context, would be horrifying, like "HR would never believe you that you didn't want me" and "I'm paying you right now to bury your face in my pussy, so eat it like the whore that you are." You can probably figure out the scenario.
I would never, ever, even for a moment, in my real life consider finding anything sexy at all about non-consensual sex. In fact, it turns my stomach. And yet, role playing this scenario with him, I was struggling not to rush the scene so I could freaking come already because ohmygod was I turned on.
The words were lies. But the energy hurling the words at him was raw, unadulterated truth.
But that first caller, we'll call him X, the one who said my words hit him... we had gotten to this place of slow, deep sensuality, a luscious, wandering exploration. He would touch me some place new, and I would find myself asking, "X?" and then he would pause, and I could hear his ragged breath, and he would reply, "Galiana?" and I would have to pause to let the shivers of delight run their course at the way he said my name, and then I would ask him for the next thing my body was dying for him to do. Every word was raw, unadulterated truth.
I remember reading CS Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters" in high school. In case you don't know it, the premise is a senior devil who is writing letters to his nephew, a junior demon, coaching him how best to ensnare and corrupt humanity. In one passage, he described captured souls as if they were wines in glass bottles: most people had bland colorless souls, but the best of them, the truly tortured and hateful, they swirled in agony, with tendrils of delicious regret and rage that you could feel churning in your gut after consuming them.
I think about that mental picture often, of the ribbons of someone else's being reaching toward me, and I relish the exquisite satisfaction of intertwining them with my own, and letting mine reach back and feed him.
I think I just called myself evil. Or at best, vampiric. But no, because the interaction is two-way with me, and mutually energizing, so that makes me merely naughty at worst. Right?
My callers were both wrong, and they were both right. I think the intention is the truth. Call it energy, intention, emotion, passion, whatever, but that is the thing that is true. And that truth, when it's all flowing exactly right, is what I love. /lick lips
"Words are what we make up, but those sighs, those are the truth." - another phone sex caller, a few days later
Yes.
Seriously, I have the best job in the world. Not only do I get paid to masturbate while relishing someone else's sexual energy, usually several times per day, but also, in post-coital pillow talk, sometimes people say the most interesting things. (Physical + Mental + Emotional) * Stimulation = Win
Oh yeah, I just turned something intensely sexy into algebra. Wow. I can't decide whether to feel mortified or victorious.
But back to the topic at hand... Words, and truth, and sighs, and lies.
Last night, I was role playing a "seduction" scene which had an element of blackmail in it. I said a few things, which, if taken out of context, would be horrifying, like "HR would never believe you that you didn't want me" and "I'm paying you right now to bury your face in my pussy, so eat it like the whore that you are." You can probably figure out the scenario.
I would never, ever, even for a moment, in my real life consider finding anything sexy at all about non-consensual sex. In fact, it turns my stomach. And yet, role playing this scenario with him, I was struggling not to rush the scene so I could freaking come already because ohmygod was I turned on.
The words were lies. But the energy hurling the words at him was raw, unadulterated truth.
But that first caller, we'll call him X, the one who said my words hit him... we had gotten to this place of slow, deep sensuality, a luscious, wandering exploration. He would touch me some place new, and I would find myself asking, "X?" and then he would pause, and I could hear his ragged breath, and he would reply, "Galiana?" and I would have to pause to let the shivers of delight run their course at the way he said my name, and then I would ask him for the next thing my body was dying for him to do. Every word was raw, unadulterated truth.
I remember reading CS Lewis' "The Screwtape Letters" in high school. In case you don't know it, the premise is a senior devil who is writing letters to his nephew, a junior demon, coaching him how best to ensnare and corrupt humanity. In one passage, he described captured souls as if they were wines in glass bottles: most people had bland colorless souls, but the best of them, the truly tortured and hateful, they swirled in agony, with tendrils of delicious regret and rage that you could feel churning in your gut after consuming them.
I think about that mental picture often, of the ribbons of someone else's being reaching toward me, and I relish the exquisite satisfaction of intertwining them with my own, and letting mine reach back and feed him.
I think I just called myself evil. Or at best, vampiric. But no, because the interaction is two-way with me, and mutually energizing, so that makes me merely naughty at worst. Right?
My callers were both wrong, and they were both right. I think the intention is the truth. Call it energy, intention, emotion, passion, whatever, but that is the thing that is true. And that truth, when it's all flowing exactly right, is what I love. /lick lips
Monday, January 17, 2011
Other Contacts
I know, you probably have all of me you can stand from my ridiculously prolific blogginess, but just in case you want more Galiana in your day...
FetLife: I have a profile on FetLife - my user name is "Galiana" - and I'm slowly starting to fill out information there. I only did the basic list of Fetishes, and already I feel like a giant slut! Imagine what will happen the day I decide to look through the comprehensive list!
The big fun thing about FetLife is the ability to find out about local kink-friendly events in my area, even though I don't attend many. I'm hoping FetLife will encourage me to attend more. When I have been involved in BDSM / swinger / kink groups in the past, I have found the vast majority of attendees to be delightful, fun, easy-going, laid-back, supportive people.
Twitter: I use Twitter - my user name is "GalianaChance" - and I try to tweet when I have new blog posts, when I see something awesome I want to share, and when I have fleeting dorky thoughts that I don't want to make a whole blog post about. Yesterday's example, "My husband just answered a question by playing a 'wrong answer' sound clip from The Price Is Right. I <3 geeks." ... and yes, that really happened, and yes, he was quite pleased with himself.
Formspring: I use Formspring - my user name is "GalianaChance" - but so far, I've just used it to enjoy the answers other people have given, because nobody has asked me any questions yet. My Inner AttentionSlut is a little devastated by that. Help her. Please. Ask me questions. The answers will show up in my Twitter stream, so if you subscribe to my tweets but don't want to sign up for Formspring, you can ask anonymously, and still track my answers.
Facebook: I use Facebook - my user name is "Galiana.Chance" - sometimes to post notices of new blog posts, but mostly to make amusing comments on other people's statuses. Most of the people who follow me there are not phone sex callers, they are girl geeks who connected with me after my post on Reddit.
I don't hide my profession, so consider yourself warned that if you friend me there, and I make a comment on your stuff, someone could follows it to figure out what I do. If you don't want me to comment, let me know and I'll put you in a group where I don't comment, but the same risk applies from browsing your friends list...
Others: The email I check most often is (galiana at ymail dot com - translated into an email address of course).
I also use galiana at ymail dot com for Yahoo chat, but note: for callers and potential callers, the only discussions I have via chat are about my availability. I learned the hard way that, although it makes me sad to have to be restrictive, if I friendly-chat for free with every caller who wants me to do that, I end up a big stress ball and never get anything else done. Sorry. However, for other phone sex operators: feel free to pop on and vent if you've had a rough call and need a supportive ear, or if you want to request that I preview something for you - if I'm available and have extra energy, I love to give back to the community in that way.
When I watch callers on cams, I do that via Yahoo chat, or on Skype as "Galiana.Chance".
And I'm on NiteFlirt as a phone sex operator... and if that's a surprise to you, then, ummmm, well, welcome to my blog. It's nice to meet you.
Future: I may at some point put up a store on clips4sale or kinkbomb, but I don't have enough content yet. I'm not producing the content because I don't yet have the equipment yet. I can see the day coming when I will make those investments. Photography and videography are easy enough to learn, right? (yes, that was sarcastic - I expect a sharp, harsh learning curve, and to be mortified by my early work...)
Where else would you like to see me?
FetLife: I have a profile on FetLife - my user name is "Galiana" - and I'm slowly starting to fill out information there. I only did the basic list of Fetishes, and already I feel like a giant slut! Imagine what will happen the day I decide to look through the comprehensive list!
The big fun thing about FetLife is the ability to find out about local kink-friendly events in my area, even though I don't attend many. I'm hoping FetLife will encourage me to attend more. When I have been involved in BDSM / swinger / kink groups in the past, I have found the vast majority of attendees to be delightful, fun, easy-going, laid-back, supportive people.
Twitter: I use Twitter - my user name is "GalianaChance" - and I try to tweet when I have new blog posts, when I see something awesome I want to share, and when I have fleeting dorky thoughts that I don't want to make a whole blog post about. Yesterday's example, "My husband just answered a question by playing a 'wrong answer' sound clip from The Price Is Right. I <3 geeks." ... and yes, that really happened, and yes, he was quite pleased with himself.
Formspring: I use Formspring - my user name is "GalianaChance" - but so far, I've just used it to enjoy the answers other people have given, because nobody has asked me any questions yet. My Inner AttentionSlut is a little devastated by that. Help her. Please. Ask me questions. The answers will show up in my Twitter stream, so if you subscribe to my tweets but don't want to sign up for Formspring, you can ask anonymously, and still track my answers.
Facebook: I use Facebook - my user name is "Galiana.Chance" - sometimes to post notices of new blog posts, but mostly to make amusing comments on other people's statuses. Most of the people who follow me there are not phone sex callers, they are girl geeks who connected with me after my post on Reddit.
I don't hide my profession, so consider yourself warned that if you friend me there, and I make a comment on your stuff, someone could follows it to figure out what I do. If you don't want me to comment, let me know and I'll put you in a group where I don't comment, but the same risk applies from browsing your friends list...
Others: The email I check most often is (galiana at ymail dot com - translated into an email address of course).
I also use galiana at ymail dot com for Yahoo chat, but note: for callers and potential callers, the only discussions I have via chat are about my availability. I learned the hard way that, although it makes me sad to have to be restrictive, if I friendly-chat for free with every caller who wants me to do that, I end up a big stress ball and never get anything else done. Sorry. However, for other phone sex operators: feel free to pop on and vent if you've had a rough call and need a supportive ear, or if you want to request that I preview something for you - if I'm available and have extra energy, I love to give back to the community in that way.
When I watch callers on cams, I do that via Yahoo chat, or on Skype as "Galiana.Chance".
And I'm on NiteFlirt as a phone sex operator... and if that's a surprise to you, then, ummmm, well, welcome to my blog. It's nice to meet you.
Future: I may at some point put up a store on clips4sale or kinkbomb, but I don't have enough content yet. I'm not producing the content because I don't yet have the equipment yet. I can see the day coming when I will make those investments. Photography and videography are easy enough to learn, right? (yes, that was sarcastic - I expect a sharp, harsh learning curve, and to be mortified by my early work...)
Where else would you like to see me?
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The Funny Things
Funny little things have changed for me since being a phone sex worker.
I was having a slow-motion flirty exchange with someone on a Reddit thread (at the blistering speed of 1-2 messages per day), which moved to private messages, and I found myself unsatisfied with flirting via written words; I wanted to hear his voice. That is completely opposite of my urges since I started flirting on the internet in 2002 - I have said before that I learn all I need to know from email / chat exchanges, so it was startling to me to have dissatisfaction with his writing as a communication medium.
My people-watching has completely changed for the naughtier. I've always made up stories for strangers to amuse myself, but they used to be primarily stories about jobs, hobbies, or the tenor of their personal relationships. Now I tend to picture the men around me cross-dressed, or the women pegging the men with a strap-on, or the women elaborately bound and gagged and flogged and subjected to forced orgasms with Hitachi wands. I always pictured some people sexually, but now it's pretty much every adult, and the range of things I imagine has dramatically widened and gotten kinkier.
I am very, very careful about my signatures now. Although my family knows what I do, and I've shared a few rated-PG-versions of work stories which I knew would amuse them, I'm fairly sure they don't want their emails signed, "Love, Galiana". I often sign phone-sex emails, "XOXO, G", which is also how I often sign off-phone emails, just with a different initial, so now I'm even more paranoid before hitting "send" than I was when I was a consultant.
(side note: I've long been confused about what to call myself. My family and friends from school know me by my nickname, which is approximately the same level of cute-sie-ness as if I went by "Gallie". When I started tech consulting at age 25 and was billing out at $100 / hour, I thought it was bad enough to have someone show up who looked 17 (I've always looked young), but to also have a cute name seemed uncomfortably unprofessional, so I went by my birth name, starting in 1995. So for 15 years, I have regularly started phone calls with the equivalent of: "Hey, it's Galiana. I mean, Gallie. I mean, I'm sorry, apparently I don't know who I am...")
And last but not least, my brain-to-mouth filter is deeply weakened. I am a little terrified of being around mixed-generation family over the holidays. On the phones, I push myself to the right emotional state, and then to say whatever comes to my mind. Often, with less verbal callers (or when they lose their ability to speak), I end up in a nice, fluid, uninterrupted stream of naughty descriptions tumbling out of my mouth with slowly increasing speed and intensity. There is no place for filtering; there is only feeling and speaking, and coming.
Dear Santa: For Christmas, All I want is to make it through all my family visits without making anyone spit-take in horror. Love, Galiana
I was having a slow-motion flirty exchange with someone on a Reddit thread (at the blistering speed of 1-2 messages per day), which moved to private messages, and I found myself unsatisfied with flirting via written words; I wanted to hear his voice. That is completely opposite of my urges since I started flirting on the internet in 2002 - I have said before that I learn all I need to know from email / chat exchanges, so it was startling to me to have dissatisfaction with his writing as a communication medium.
My people-watching has completely changed for the naughtier. I've always made up stories for strangers to amuse myself, but they used to be primarily stories about jobs, hobbies, or the tenor of their personal relationships. Now I tend to picture the men around me cross-dressed, or the women pegging the men with a strap-on, or the women elaborately bound and gagged and flogged and subjected to forced orgasms with Hitachi wands. I always pictured some people sexually, but now it's pretty much every adult, and the range of things I imagine has dramatically widened and gotten kinkier.
I am very, very careful about my signatures now. Although my family knows what I do, and I've shared a few rated-PG-versions of work stories which I knew would amuse them, I'm fairly sure they don't want their emails signed, "Love, Galiana". I often sign phone-sex emails, "XOXO, G", which is also how I often sign off-phone emails, just with a different initial, so now I'm even more paranoid before hitting "send" than I was when I was a consultant.
(side note: I've long been confused about what to call myself. My family and friends from school know me by my nickname, which is approximately the same level of cute-sie-ness as if I went by "Gallie". When I started tech consulting at age 25 and was billing out at $100 / hour, I thought it was bad enough to have someone show up who looked 17 (I've always looked young), but to also have a cute name seemed uncomfortably unprofessional, so I went by my birth name, starting in 1995. So for 15 years, I have regularly started phone calls with the equivalent of: "Hey, it's Galiana. I mean, Gallie. I mean, I'm sorry, apparently I don't know who I am...")
And last but not least, my brain-to-mouth filter is deeply weakened. I am a little terrified of being around mixed-generation family over the holidays. On the phones, I push myself to the right emotional state, and then to say whatever comes to my mind. Often, with less verbal callers (or when they lose their ability to speak), I end up in a nice, fluid, uninterrupted stream of naughty descriptions tumbling out of my mouth with slowly increasing speed and intensity. There is no place for filtering; there is only feeling and speaking, and coming.
Dear Santa: For Christmas, All I want is to make it through all my family visits without making anyone spit-take in horror. Love, Galiana
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I Am For You
At the end of "Perfect Mate", the Star Trek: TNG episode that gave me the phrase "empathic metamorph" (as I describe in nauseating detail here), the empathic metamorph says, "I am for you, Alrik of Val." By that statement, she means that as an empath, she will know what Alrik of Val will want from her, and as a metamorph , she will transform to meet that need. Her priority will be his needs, not hers, because she is for him.
(I know, technically, she's not a metamorph anymore at that point because she had bonded with Picard, which gave her a high regard for her moral and civic duty, even at the cost of great personal sacrifice, but let's just gloss over that explanation for the sake of narrative efficiency in my blog, shall we?)
For a while, I couldn't pin down an answer to the question, "What is the difference between Galiana and your off-phone self?" because I bring so much of my self to the phone, and into Galiana. But finally, through a series of fascinating conversations with friends and family and callers, I can answer it:
Galiana is for you. My off-phone self? Not as much.
It's not that my off-phone self is uncaring, it's just that she ... wait... I shouldn't call myself she... ummmm... let's give her a name, shall we? Galiana is my phone sex self, and my off-phone self is... Chooser! That makes sense (at least if you've read this blog post). Okay, so where were we?
Galiana is for you. Chooser is for me, at least as her first priority. Chooser makes sure that before I lavish attention or affection or assistance on someone else, that my needs have been met, so that any giving is from a place of strength. Chooser makes sure I don't forget to eat, or drink, or go to the bathroom between calls.
And sure, Chooser makes choices that help others. The wedding last weekend is a great example of that: I ran myself ragged helping out as a bridesmaid, not hesitating to go up and down those stone stairs again because some message needed to be conveyed, not picking a seat for my husband and I until I knew the families had room to sit together, not getting food until everyone else seemed settled, standing by the door for the last hour to guard the party-favor-truffles from thieving munchkins (how often do you have the chance to use the phrase "thieving munchkins"? Not nearly often enough, I'd wager).
But Chooser also made sure I rested the week before, and that I rested up afterward, and that I handed off tasks to others who could help as often as it was efficient, to minimize the wear and tear on me.
It's a matter of priority. Chooser's first priority is me, and as long as I'm good, then she gives freely to those around her. Galiana's first priority is you, and as long as you're good, then sometimes she gets selfish and begs to come, or spins a fantasy in a way that gets more of her juices flowing, or withholds the really dirty nasty phrase with that word she knows you love to hear until you're allllllmost there because that gasp and that growl and that power in shoving you over the edge like that is just. too. fun.
A recent conversation solidified the difference between Chooser and Galiana:
I'm supportive of my husband's gaming habits, so much so that I joined World of Warcraft with him and played for 5 years (until vertigo hit - too much zooming and swooping). Lately he's been playing Minecraft, a solo world-building game with a cool success story behind it for the guy who single-handedly wrote it, and a growing community of geeky enthusiasts. The first few hundred times that he showed me something cool he'd built, or explained something new he'd found, it was interesting.... but...
We were getting ready for bed, and he was telling me about how he's learning to preserve his gear by building these totem-pole-ish things to mark his spot and putting his treasures into a chest nearby, just in case he falls down a hole into lava. And he was telling me in that "I'm dumping things out of my brain and don't care if you're listening" way, not that "I'm saying something important" way.
And to be clear, it wasn't that Chooser didn't care, Chooser was simply prioritizing "going to sleep" over "keeping myself awake to continue discussing a game I'll never play, which we can talk about tomorrow when I'm more awake." Galiana would have chosen to drink some more caffeine and keep digging into interesting aspects of Minecraft.
She's still me. She's just me for you.
(I know, technically, she's not a metamorph anymore at that point because she had bonded with Picard, which gave her a high regard for her moral and civic duty, even at the cost of great personal sacrifice, but let's just gloss over that explanation for the sake of narrative efficiency in my blog, shall we?)
For a while, I couldn't pin down an answer to the question, "What is the difference between Galiana and your off-phone self?" because I bring so much of my self to the phone, and into Galiana. But finally, through a series of fascinating conversations with friends and family and callers, I can answer it:
Galiana is for you. My off-phone self? Not as much.
It's not that my off-phone self is uncaring, it's just that she ... wait... I shouldn't call myself she... ummmm... let's give her a name, shall we? Galiana is my phone sex self, and my off-phone self is... Chooser! That makes sense (at least if you've read this blog post). Okay, so where were we?
Galiana is for you. Chooser is for me, at least as her first priority. Chooser makes sure that before I lavish attention or affection or assistance on someone else, that my needs have been met, so that any giving is from a place of strength. Chooser makes sure I don't forget to eat, or drink, or go to the bathroom between calls.
And sure, Chooser makes choices that help others. The wedding last weekend is a great example of that: I ran myself ragged helping out as a bridesmaid, not hesitating to go up and down those stone stairs again because some message needed to be conveyed, not picking a seat for my husband and I until I knew the families had room to sit together, not getting food until everyone else seemed settled, standing by the door for the last hour to guard the party-favor-truffles from thieving munchkins (how often do you have the chance to use the phrase "thieving munchkins"? Not nearly often enough, I'd wager).
But Chooser also made sure I rested the week before, and that I rested up afterward, and that I handed off tasks to others who could help as often as it was efficient, to minimize the wear and tear on me.
It's a matter of priority. Chooser's first priority is me, and as long as I'm good, then she gives freely to those around her. Galiana's first priority is you, and as long as you're good, then sometimes she gets selfish and begs to come, or spins a fantasy in a way that gets more of her juices flowing, or withholds the really dirty nasty phrase with that word she knows you love to hear until you're allllllmost there because that gasp and that growl and that power in shoving you over the edge like that is just. too. fun.
A recent conversation solidified the difference between Chooser and Galiana:
I'm supportive of my husband's gaming habits, so much so that I joined World of Warcraft with him and played for 5 years (until vertigo hit - too much zooming and swooping). Lately he's been playing Minecraft, a solo world-building game with a cool success story behind it for the guy who single-handedly wrote it, and a growing community of geeky enthusiasts. The first few hundred times that he showed me something cool he'd built, or explained something new he'd found, it was interesting.... but...
We were getting ready for bed, and he was telling me about how he's learning to preserve his gear by building these totem-pole-ish things to mark his spot and putting his treasures into a chest nearby, just in case he falls down a hole into lava. And he was telling me in that "I'm dumping things out of my brain and don't care if you're listening" way, not that "I'm saying something important" way.
Chooser: (realizing I was falling asleep standing up) Yaaawwwnnn bored now (walk away)We had been talking about the Chooser / Galiana split, so it was only a matter of time before he used it against me somehow. It was pretty awesome.
Hub: (following me, as if I said nothing)... but I have to make the totems really tall, because sometimes I've gotten very far away before I die ... (continues on for a few more minutes before pausing)
Chooser: (blank stare)
Hub: (expectant face)
Chooser: (with no interest in my voice or face whatsoever) Totem, trunk, lava, find. Mmhmmm.
Hub: (disgusted) I'm gonna tell Galiana. She would totally listen to me.
Chooser: (doubled over laughing)
Galiana: (perky and attentive) Really, honey? What do you lose when you die? Is that just when you die in lava? What if you fall? What can you put in the trunk? What do you have to carry with you? How do make a trunk? How long does it take to get back to it? Where do you spawn after you die?
Hub: (grinning, kisses me) Fuck off.
(laughter all around)
And to be clear, it wasn't that Chooser didn't care, Chooser was simply prioritizing "going to sleep" over "keeping myself awake to continue discussing a game I'll never play, which we can talk about tomorrow when I'm more awake." Galiana would have chosen to drink some more caffeine and keep digging into interesting aspects of Minecraft.
She's still me. She's just me for you.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
My Real Name
My "Real Name"... well, that depends of your definition of reality, doesn't it?
I have always believed in Santa Claus, the Velveteen Rabbit, and Snoopy. Honestly. Santa may be fiction, but there have been poems, songs, movies, books, dolls, and decorations by the millions made of him, and we know, in our gut, what Santa would and wouldn't do in any situation, as much as we know what our own parents would do. Just because he's fiction doesn't mean he isn't real.
I spent this weekend talking and thinking about why I chose the name Galiana Chance for myself. Why I named myself that, nine years ago. I blogged about it here, about what it meant when I chose it, and what it has come to mean to me now.
Then earlier today, musing about what I love hearing, I realized that my favorite thing to hear on the phone is my name. Last night, a caller was fucking the hell out of me, and he kept saying, "Galiana...?" and I kept pausing, enjoying the feeling of tension, my heart skipping a beat, before I replied "Yes?" We replayed it, over and over, like a choral call and response, and I loved it to my core. It felt like we were celebrating everything I had chosen to be. It was affirming, and powerful, and beautiful.
I should have known what was coming, shouldn't I?
Today, someone asked me "my real name." Of course he did. Instead of just giving him a name, which would have been the smart thing to do, instead I tried to explain that Galiana is the name that suits me best, the one I chose for myself, the name that feels the most like me, the name that seems the most true. He interrupted to ask if I'd gotten off - as if that's all I want from him - and ended the call.
I have a list I could have given him, names which all mean something to me: Leah, Jenna, Megan, Rachel, Angela, Gretha, Jane, Cecilia, Patti, Reagan, Eve, Elizabeth, Leena, Katherine, Lynn, Mary, and if I were to be really honest: Bucky. My legal birth name is in that list, but it doesn't mean more to me than the others. Certainly not more than Galiana. It means something different, but not more.
I didn't choose the name I was given at birth. My sister chose it, but if I had been a boy, she wanted to name me "Sunflower Boat", so it's been difficult to put too much stock in that name, y'know?
Each of those names are a part of me. A flavor. A slice. A piece. But Galiana... Galiana is who I choose to be, as whole and real and true as I can be, right here, right now, as present to every moment as I've ever been in my life. You want my real name? My true name? My honest name? The name that means the most to me?
Galiana. My name is Galiana.
I have always believed in Santa Claus, the Velveteen Rabbit, and Snoopy. Honestly. Santa may be fiction, but there have been poems, songs, movies, books, dolls, and decorations by the millions made of him, and we know, in our gut, what Santa would and wouldn't do in any situation, as much as we know what our own parents would do. Just because he's fiction doesn't mean he isn't real.
I spent this weekend talking and thinking about why I chose the name Galiana Chance for myself. Why I named myself that, nine years ago. I blogged about it here, about what it meant when I chose it, and what it has come to mean to me now.
Then earlier today, musing about what I love hearing, I realized that my favorite thing to hear on the phone is my name. Last night, a caller was fucking the hell out of me, and he kept saying, "Galiana...?" and I kept pausing, enjoying the feeling of tension, my heart skipping a beat, before I replied "Yes?" We replayed it, over and over, like a choral call and response, and I loved it to my core. It felt like we were celebrating everything I had chosen to be. It was affirming, and powerful, and beautiful.
I should have known what was coming, shouldn't I?
Today, someone asked me "my real name." Of course he did. Instead of just giving him a name, which would have been the smart thing to do, instead I tried to explain that Galiana is the name that suits me best, the one I chose for myself, the name that feels the most like me, the name that seems the most true. He interrupted to ask if I'd gotten off - as if that's all I want from him - and ended the call.
I have a list I could have given him, names which all mean something to me: Leah, Jenna, Megan, Rachel, Angela, Gretha, Jane, Cecilia, Patti, Reagan, Eve, Elizabeth, Leena, Katherine, Lynn, Mary, and if I were to be really honest: Bucky. My legal birth name is in that list, but it doesn't mean more to me than the others. Certainly not more than Galiana. It means something different, but not more.
I didn't choose the name I was given at birth. My sister chose it, but if I had been a boy, she wanted to name me "Sunflower Boat", so it's been difficult to put too much stock in that name, y'know?
Each of those names are a part of me. A flavor. A slice. A piece. But Galiana... Galiana is who I choose to be, as whole and real and true as I can be, right here, right now, as present to every moment as I've ever been in my life. You want my real name? My true name? My honest name? The name that means the most to me?
Galiana. My name is Galiana.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
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