Sexuality Happens

The above picture is my outfit that I wore for Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco last weekend. It’s an amazing outfit, period. I found the skirt on sale for $5 at Target, the hose as a two-pack (the other are much tighter weave, and are leopard print fishnet!) for $7, and then of course, my favorite fire corset and rainbow zebra shoes, coming together for an incredibly hot outfit. I love it.

I had a blast at Folsom, although it was quite hot, and there was far too much walking involved for a poor little femme using a cane. Maybe if I go again in the future, I’ll get me some ponies to pull me around.

My demo went great. About 45-50 people in the audience, two lovely demo bottoms, and lots of fantabulous queer energy made for a VERY fun “kinky games people play” demo at the Venus Playground. Plus, I got to see Madison Young, Mollena, Garnet Joyce, and other fabulous sex positive pervs…and then I finished off the day dancing with an old friend from Philly, and the love of her life. I give that a good thumbs up.

And now, I’m off to New York!

Happy HNT everyone!

-Essin’ Em

Sometimes, expectations can be a very very good thing. However, for the most part, they tend to be evil.

Why? Because usually, we keep our expectations to ourselves. We don’t share them. And by doing so, we often set ourselves up for disappointment, because we expect (there is that evil word again) our friends/family/lovers/partners to read our minds, and meet our expectations, even though they often don’t know what they are.

I wrote a few weeks back about how I was let down during my last trip to the ER. It was the first time Q had ever come with me to the ER, and only the second time she’d ever come with me on any medical visit, the first being only a week prior. Now, I’ve spent a lot of time in medical settings, and have been in the ER far too many times. Ergo, when there was no nurse button, and I was left alone in a room with no pillows/sheets/etc for a swollen leg/to prop up my head, and with no nurse call button, or way to ask for help, I sent Q on a mission to a) find a nurse, b) check on where I was in the triage schedule and c) get me a pillow. The first three trips, she came back having accomplished none of this. The nurses were talking to each other, or she didn’t see anyone in the hall. I was incredibly frustrated, because I needed an advocate at that point in time (not being able to walk anywhere myself), and I had very specific expectations of what an advocate to me looked like. However, I pretty much gave her my expectations at the exact same time as I even asked her to be an advocate, and in a stressful setting none the less. Is it not wonder that her actions didn’t meet my hastily requested invitations?

So I’ve been trying to be clearer about my wants and needs, and even expectations. And moreover, I’ve been trying to have less expectations. When I came back from Florida, Q had gone to Sedona with her sister, and brought me back this BEAUTIFUL black and white flower vase. Totally unexpected, as I don’t ever expect physical presents from Q (I’m a pack rat, she’s a minimalist). I dropped my expectations, and was pleasantly surprised. What a reward!

But then, I made expectations again. I purposely chose to fly back from SF to Phoenix this afternoon, so I could spend a nice evening with her before flying back out to NYC tomorrow. Between my travel and her often 60+ hour work weeks, we haven’t really gotten to see much of each other in a while, and so this was important to me. I forwarded her my flight info, my travel dates, reminded her that this was when I’d be home, etc.

By doing all of this, I had expectations that I’d be able to spend time with her this one evening that I was back. However, I didn’t communicate that clearly. I thought she’d pick up on my hints, but I never specifically said “hey, so we’re both getting to hang out together on the night of the 29th, right?” Well, not until the day before I left.

I had hoped she would take the afternoon off, so I could get a ride from the airport home, and get to spend time with her. Apparently, she had two presentations that afternoon, so that was nixed. Fine, that had been a hope, but not an expectation. Then Saturday night, as I chatted with her on the phone, I found out she also had stuff at 5pm-7:30pm, and 8pm-11pm. As my flight was leaving at 7am the next morning, I wasn’t going to be able to stay up past 10ish, meaning that all my deliberate planning and extra wear and tear on my body was for naught; I’m not really going to get to see her before I leave again.

I was hurt when I found this out. Not angry, just hurt and frustrated. But honestly, that’s partially my fault. I needed to communicate better my reasoning for coming home, as well as the expectations I had of Q instead of just making assumptions.

And I guess it will just make next Monday night all the more sweet.

-Essin’ Em

As I’m still on my trip, and don’t have to opportunity to write as much daily as I usually do, or even as much as I would like to given the circumstances, I feel only just in directing you to Alphafemme’s Blog.

Alphafemme is one of the sweetest, kindest people you will ever meet, period, and I’m not just saying that because she has opened her home to me the past few days as somewhere to stay in San Francisco. She’s just an all around good person, believes firmly in social justice, is a sexy burlesque dancer…and often times, her relationship with ML mirrors a lot of what is happening in my relationship with Q.

Anyways, while you wait for me to come back and actually be able to write, check out her blog.

This is day 12 in my “30 Days of Letters” endeavor. This one is supposed to be to someone I hate, or caused a lot of pain in my life. Now, Julius caused a lot of pain, but I don’t hate him. KW caused pain, but I don’t hate her. Lots of people in my life have caused I lot of pain, but I absolutely cannot think of anyone I personally know that I hate. Ergo, I’ll write to Fred Phelps and his like.

Dear Fred Phelps and your gang of hateful ruffians -

Love is a word with many meanings and levels. I can love my cats. I can love my family. I can love my partner. I can love my friends. I can love myself. I can love chocolate and my favorite sex toys. Love is so vast and varying, depending on who you talk to, and what/whom they are talking about.

Hate is different. I don’t see levels of hate. Hate is a black covering that just overwhelms and shuts down people. You, sir, are full of all consuming, soul sucking hate, and I hate that your hate creates hate in me.

I don’t hate individuals. I may dislike them distain them, just stay away from them, but I do not hate. However, your hate, your blackness, your darkness, covers all those in your path. Just by having been around your hate, by protecting people from your protests, by seeing how truly awful and evil you really are, your hate has rubbed off on me.

I hate you.

I hate you, Fred Phelps, the person. I hate your church. I hate what you stand for. I hate how you make people feel wrong, feel uncomfortable, feel unsafe, feel scared, feel angry, feel hurt, feel attacked, feel frustrated. No one has the right to purposely do that to other humans. I hate that you do this, that you clearly enjoy doing this, that you help convince others to do this, that you train small children to do this.

You have succeeded. You have planted the seed of hatred in me. However, instead of grown against the people you don’t like, it has turned against you. I hate you, although I’m not consumed with it. Why? You are not worth that waste of time, of energy, of what it would take to truly hate you.

I hate you like a fly in my soup, like the guy in the pick up who flipped me off today when I honked for swerving. I don’t really care enough about your measly life to be filled with it. I just hate that I have been driven to hate at all.

I hate you,

-Essin’ Em

Today, as part of my travels, I will be attending my first ever Folsom Street Fair. It’s like Pride, but for Kinky Peeps, and multiplied by quite a bit. Think people of all genders, orientations, kink roles, and ages (mostly 18+ I believe) taking over good amount of Folsom street in San Francisco, CA. I’ve heard stories, I’ve seen pictures, but I’ve never actually gotten to go there and participate.

Tonight, I’m doing a demo called “Kink Games People Play” at the Venus Tent (women/trans area) at 5pm. If you’ll be there, come say hi.

I’m hoping I get to see Mollena too — she’s one of my favorite San Francisco people, and she’s International Ms Leather, so she’ll be running around being awesome.

I’m a little nervous…sometimes I feel like I’m told that I’m not “kinky enough” because I don’t do nearly as much power play as people. And sometimes, I’ve been uncomfortable in kink settings because they’ve been very heterocentric, cisgender centric and queeraphobic. However, at the very least, I know that will NOT be the case here (I mean, look at where we are), and so I shall go forth, kinky and queer pride held high, and enjoy this hopefully awesome of awesome festivals.

May the kink be with you,

Essin’ Em

Here is a video made by the daughter of two Woodhull Foundation council members. I think it’s brilliant. And hopefully encourages you to think about sexual freedom in the context of your own life.

-Essin’ Em

I’m not going to lie, I was kind of excited about getting this frou frou esque spa kit in the mail. I’m not usually a woo woo person, and aside from soy wax candles, I tend to go more for sex toys than I do for the softer, more sensual stuff.

However, when I heard I was getting the Kama Sutra Spa Pleasures kit, I was kind of excited. Why? Because Q and I have been talking a lot more about meditation and relaxation as of late. The whole meditation thing just does not work for me. It’s a bit of an epic fail. I tend to wind up getting headaches from trying it.

But relaxation? That I can work on. There is no one way to relax, and for me, I’ve found that relaxing my body (through massage, which I cannot afford very often) is one of the best ways to help my mind relax. Ergo, this kit seemed perfect. Candle? Check. Bath salts with a fancy schmancy shell to soop them? Yup. And a bottle of shower/bath gel to use after wards, as I like to shower after I bathe. Yes, I’m odd like that.

So I was excited. However, problem number one? I currently live in Arizona. By the time I got the package out of my mailbox, the candle had melted into one, big, unuseable mess. I don’t recommend shipping this to anywhere hot, particularly not in the summertime.

I liked the scent of this kit, but I felt the bath salts were a little too strong. Luckily, the nice thing about bath salts is that you can just put in as much as you want or need, adjusting the scent of the tub accordingly. The gel? That I like just plain and simple, the way it was meant to be.

Was this as relaxing as I thought? Nah. I’ll probably stick with the massage candles and massage stone, as well as a nice cup of tea and a good book. However, I think this would make a fabulous present; it’s well packaged, I love the shell scoop, and it’s just pretty overall.

-Essin’ Em

Funny story. Today is Sexual Freedom Day, and tonight, I’m going to be teaching people about communication with their partners and cunnilingus. I think teaching people how to have better sex definitely falls under sexual freedom.

But that’s not the only way I’m celebrating sexual freedom day…

I’m going to write about it. Because I am lucky enough to have the freedom to write/blog/share about my sexuality, about my own journey, about sexuality education and more.

Why is sexual freedom important? Because you probably don’t have as much of it as you think you do. Many states still have laws on the books outlawing sodomy — which is usually defined as anal sex, but sometimes includes oral sex. Yes, that’s right. Depending on where you live, it may be illegal to suck your partners cock, go down on your lover, or even do it in the butt.  Granted, these laws are not enforced usually, mostly due to Lawrence vs. Texas…however, they are still on the book.

What about if you live with your partner, but choose not to get married. You may have just as committed relationship as a married couple, but you are denied the same rights. And what if not getting married isn’t a choice? Yeah. No recourse.

How about kink? Do you know in some states, I can’t teach kink classes, because flagellating (usually flogging, but can be definine as spanking, whipping, etc) someone for money…even if it I’m making it as a class fee, and am flogging a demo bottom, is considered illegal? I’m sorry, but this is ridiculous.

Not to mention sex workers. Who is a sex worker? Phone sex operators, porn stars, escorts, pro dommes, sex surrogates and more. Some of their activities are legal, some of them aren’t. However, most sex workers I know file taxes, volunteer in their communities, and are upstanding citizens…yet are treated differently by the rest of society because somehow the work that they do (that oh so many people enjoy) is not “real work” or is unacceptable.

Sexual freedom is not being scared of being fired if someone finds out you’re kinky. It’s having equal rights, regardless of gender/orientation. It’s passing a law that makes it illegal to fire someone for being LGBTQ or having a non-traditional gender identity/presentation. It’s taking stupid anti-sex laws off the books. It’s creating a climate where people can come out from their pen names and handles, and talk about sex in a positive light. Sexual freedom is not policing people for their identities, jobs, or actions.

We are a long way away from this sexual freedom utopia, but every step you take, every time you speak up, speak out…we’re creating change.

So tell me, what does sexual freedom mean to you, and how are you trying to achieve it?

Thanks to The Woodhull Foundation for putting together this Sexual Freedom Blog Carnival. Check out the Woodhull Foundation and their work towards increased sexual freedom.

-Essin’ Em

This is day 11 in my “30 Days of Letters” endeavor. Today, I’m supposed to write to someone dead, that I wish I could talk to more/again. Choosing the person is easy — I choose my father. Writing the letter? That’s a bit more difficult.

Dear Daddy,

I miss you.

This whole letter could say nothing but that, and still be complete, but for the sake of writing things out, I will continue.

Sometimes, when I’m lonely, or tired, or driving on a long trip, I wonder what you’d think of who I’ve become. I like to think you’d be proud of me, but doesn’t everyone think that of their deceased family/lovers/friends?

I know you’d be proud of me for working the system, and graduating high school at 16 and college at 20 – you did your whole undergrad degree in 2.5 years. I know you’d be proud of me for living in Germany for 6 months, and I wish I could thank you for introducing me to that language and culture, and reminding me that just because I’m a Jew, it doesn’t mean I have to hate/distain modern day Germany.

I like to think you’d be proud of me for forging my own way. Mother is always reminding me that I chose this field, that when I’m broke or jobless, it’s my fault. I can hear you in my head telling me that it’s 100% worth doing what you’re passionate about, regardless of how important other people think it is, regardless of how much stress and controversy this is.

I still don’t ride roller coasters. I still am scared of heights. Spiders still make me scream. I tried to cure myself of these fears, because I knew you were virtually fearless, and didn’t understand where these fears came from. I’m sorry I failed…but I did kill a sewer roach last month when Q was away and it ran across the floor. I hope that counts for something.

I wish you were here to meet Q. She reminds me a lot of you, especially her silliness, and how she calms me down. I think you two would get along swimmingly. Don’t worry – we’ll break a glass at the wedding and do the hora for you.

I wish you could have seen me play hockey or roller derby. I know you were surprised when I chose dance, figure skating and horseback riding over archery and softball. I know you wanted me to be sportier, but I appreciate that you took up figure skating just so you could be with me, and learn along side me. Q and I played catch the other day, and I dedicated that silly little session of throwing a ball around to you.

I wish you would have known me when I grew up, as I continue to grow. I wonder how much I’ve changed in the 11 years since you died. How would you have reacted to me coming out? To being a sex educator? To my disablity? I don’t know. I like to think I do, but honestly, I don’t.

I’m almost to the point where you’ve been dead longer than you were in my life. That terrifies me. I hardly remember what you sounded like, although I will never ever be able to forget your smile, your face. Even your laugh still haunts my memory.

I love you Daddy, still and always. I miss you terribly, and I can only hope that what I am doing, that who I am would have made you proud.

Love,

Me

Hey all!

Later this week I’ll be headed first to Salem, OR to teach at Enigma, and then I’m off to San Francisco to have some fun and present at Folsom Street Fair over the weekend. Next Monday and Tuesday, at Good Vibrations, I’ll be doing not one but TWO awesome classes! Seats do fill up, so I encourage you to pre-register if you can. I really hope to see a lot of you there!

Both of these workshops will be held at the Polk St. store.

Good Vibrations
1620 Polk Street (at Sacramento Street)
San Francisco, CA 94109
(415) 345-0400
Map & directions

Vaginal Fisting for One and All (NEW)
Monday, September 27, 6-8 pm
$25 in advance, $30 at the door
Fisting is one of those words that makes people say “ooooh!” Sometimes, it’s an “I’m so excited about that” way, and other times it’s more of a “you want me to put WHAT in my WHERE?” response. If you’re curious about fisting, come learn from an expert. Shanna Katz will explain vaginal fisting is (and what it isn’t), how to introduce it into your relationships, what you need to think about in regards to safety, why lube is so important and more. Everyone can use a helping hand when it comes to fisting, so come one, come all, and really get to understand the amazing ins and outs of vaginal fisting.

To register for this workshop, please visit http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/112656

Right Foot Red, Left Hand Lube: Sex Positions for Everyone (NEW)
Tuesday, September 28, 6-8 pm
$25 in advance, $30 at the door
Forget the Kama Sutra and Tantra. Leave your sex swing at home. Shanna Katz is here to tell you all about sex positions that anyone can do; no fancy hardware or spiritual revelations needed. We’ll talk about everything from Missionary to Froggy Style, Reverse Cowgirl to the Sneaky Vampire. Want a threesome? Got positions for that. Have arthritis? We’ve got positions for that. Ready to integrate sex toys into the bedroom (or shower, or car)? Check. Bring your favorite position in mind, and be ready to try out new positions (with clothes on) as we sex-plore our way through the endless types of positions available to us. Open to singles, couples and more-somes, and people of all gender and orientations.

To register for this workshop, please visit http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/112676