Sexuality Happens

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. Today marks the 9th day (for those new, I’m not doing them all back to back, but rather scattering them, in order), in which I’m supposed to write to someone I’d like to meet.

This is hard. In the past four years, I’ve met most of the people I’ve been dying to meet; Audacia Ray, Jamye Waxman, Tristan Taormino, Nina Hartley, Belladonna, Jiz Lee, Shine Louise Houston, Megan Andelloux, Dylan Ryan, Courtney Trouble, Madison Young, Midori, Mistress Saskia, May May, Mollena, Graydancer, Ducky Doolittle, Cunning Minx, Sequoia Redd, Sabrina Morgan, Tina Horn, etc. I know, I’m a very very very lucky pervert. I’d definitely like to meet Candia Royalle, but I think that’s going to happen October 1st at the Sex Blogger Calendar Release Party, so that’s kind of moot.

I’m going to write this letter to the person or company that will eventually (I hope) want to pay me to produce porn for them.

Dear person/company/someone in the adult industry,

We haven’t met yet, but when we do, I hope you’ll be so bowled over by my eye for interesting sex on film that you’ll want to hire me on the spot. More likely, we’ll meet multiple times through various people in our networks, and eventually, you’ll give in to my constant emailing about producing a movie with me, and we’ll make a movie.

It’ll be amazing, I tell you. If I can film what I’ve done (five really incredibly hot 45 minute scenes) with essentially no budget, and only people I can find here in Arizona, imagine what I could do with a little bit of money, and a larger pool of soon to be porn-actors?

I want to to create hot, sexy porn with real chemistry. I want it, like so many of the newer porn companies, to be diverse. That includes diversity of gender, orientation, color, size, age and ability. I want there to be incredibly hot connections between the stars, something I seem to have almost no trouble finding when I help put people together to shoot for me.

I want there to be some sweet and sensual bits, and lots of hardcore, to the wall fucking. I’d love to do an educational line, with a video on masturbation, a video on how to use a strap on, a video on how to incorportate sex toys, and much more.

I’m an incredibly dedicate worker, a bit OCD, so things will be done definitely by deadline, if not before, and all of the forms and pictures will be in perfect order. I could do so many awesome things for you, but you don’t even know me yet.

Who are you? I don’t know yet. Perhaps Good Releasing? Perhaps Vivid Ed? Perhaps a completely new company looking for an up and coming sex educator/pornographer to rock their world. Whoever you are, I can’t wait to meet you!

Just wait. One day, our paths will cross, and you and I will be an epic ethical porn team, creating super hot movies for the masses. I know it will happen, because it just has to!

Looking forward to finally getting to meet you,

-Essin’ Em

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. Today marks the 8th day (for those new, I’m not doing them all back to back, but rather scattering them, in order), in which I’m supposed to write to my favorite internet friend.

I’m not sure who I would write to. A lot of my first internet friends, back from the early days of the Net (late 90s), I have no touch with. Other internet friends (early to mid 2000s) I stay in *some* touch with them, but they certainly wouldn’t be my best internet friend(s).

No, my best internet friends are those I’ve made since I started blogging. And while I’ve met them online, and connect with them mostly online, I’ve gotten to meet most of them in person, lucky for me. If I had to choose, which I’d prefer not to, I’ll write to Always Aroused Girl, one of the best internet (and IRL friends) a lady could want:

Dear AAG - 

Thank you for helping to keep me sane. Thank you for helping to show me the ways of the big, bad-ass blog world. Thank you for always being there to support me when I need to rant and rave, for helping me survive the EF drama (and for understanding why I couldn’t leave as quickly as I wished). Thank you for helping me figure out some of the ins and outs of this site, as well as helping me to design ShannaKatz.com completely. You’re an interwebs rockstar.

I’m so happy to be a friend of yours. You’re a genuinely good person, and very much the same person in real life as well as in the internet world. You’re amazing, and I’m honored to have you as a friend, both in the online world and the flesh and blood one. Thanks for serving as my online super hero. I have so much love for you!

<3

-Essin’ Em

 This is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. This is day 7, writing a letter to an ex…an ex partner, an ex love, an ex crush.

This was one I wasn’t looking forward to. Why? I mean, I’m friends with my last 3 ex-partners, at least to some extent. I don’t like burning bridges. Hell, I’m even friends with most of my former crushes.

However, I feel like this is supposed to be a deeper letter, one that makes me think. And so, I write this letter to Julius. I wrote a bit about him here. He is an ex-friend, an ex crush, an ex-love, and much more.

Dear Julius,

I still, more than half a decade later, don’t know what it was I did to have you cut off all contact with me. You, the person I talked to nightly on the phone all through high school. You, one of the first people I had a real crush on. You, who I laughed with, and cried with, and adventured with. What exactly was it that I did that night we hooked up, that some how convinced you to never talk to me again.

I could use humor, and joke that I didn’t think that I was that bad of a kisser, that you seemed to have enjoyed it. But this isn’t a time for joking. I don’t think you know exactly how badly you’ve hurt me.

You’re the first person who told me that they loved me. Not once, not twice, and not even only in languages that I understood. After my father died, you were the only one that was there to support me, and helped to keep the pieces of me together when I shattered apart. You were my support system, my knight in punk rock/grunge armor, my guy friend, my best friend, my crush, my love, and so much more that I can’t even define.

I think about you every once in a while. I do. I hope you’re happy, whatever it is that you’re doing. I honestly do, despite how much hurt and pain you’ve given me over the years, and despite how much you’ve contributed to my fear of being abandoned by those I love.

I only wish, that one day, I found out what it was that made you cut all of the things that tied us together. I’ve spent many nights, many days, many plane flights and train trips, all trying to figure out what I did to make you cut me from your life, to shut me out like all of those years that we’d had together never existed. It pains me more to know that I must have done or said something to hurt you, and yet I have no idea. I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for.

So Julius, should you ever read this, please tell me. Some how, please tell me what it was I did. Because you see, it’s really fucked me up all these years. It’s made me afraid that one day, everyone I love is just going to shut me out of their life. And I feel, however irrationally, that if I just *KNEW* what it was, and never did it again, that somehow, I’d be a little safer in the arms of those I love. Please.

Best of luck in your life,

-Essin’ Em

 This is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. Today’s schtick is to write to a stranger, and so I shall.

Today I’m writing to a stranger. But I’m going to take a similar route of the witty Britni of BritIsShameless.com, and make this a delurking post, or better yet, a post where I can get to know you, my readers.

Who are you? Some of you I know in real life, others through your comments, your blogs, your twitter pages, etc. Some of you I don’t even know that you are there at all.

So tell me, those you who are reading me:

*What name do you go by on the interwebs?

*What are some of your identities?

*How did you find me, and when?

*Why are you reading this blog?

*Where(ish) are you located?

*What is your number one bit of sex advice you give to people?

*How do you tell people you love them?

*Favorite animal.

Would you be so kind, oh strangers of various levels, to post here, today, and tell me who you are a little, what makes you tick, how you found me, how you love, your tips on sex, why you read this, and of course, your favorite animal? I’d appreciate it ever so much!

And with that…I have hope to get to “meet” some of you soon!

-Essin’ Em

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters endevor. This is supposed to be a letter to your dreams.  I didn’t know if they meant like dreams you have at night (which I have been having some freaking crazy ones as of late), or dreams like your hopes and goals. I decided to go with the latter.

Dear Dreams…

It’s so interesting how you’ve changed over time. When I was five, I wanted nothing more in the world to be an archaeologist, like Indiana Jones. Then, it was a vet. When I got to high school, I decided I wanted to be a counselor for gifted children, and went into college expecting to do so. Somewhere in there, I discovered sex ed, and dreamed of working for Planned Parenthood, which brought me to grad school. From there, I fell into the world Feminist Porn and Porn for Women, and then into the world of sex toys. I wanted to be a feminist pornographer/sex toy shop owner with a studio/dungeon in the basement.

And now? I’m not sure. I am a sex educator, I am a feminist pornographer, I am a blogger, I am a writer, I am a reviewer, I am a marketer. I’m not sure what direction the tide will take me next; things are always changing in life, and it seems even more so in the sexuality field.

I had dreams of living in Europe…not likely with my three cats and partner now (although a long term visit may be in order). I had dreams of owning a house, which I almost did back in Philly. Now $15,000 of medical debt is going to push that one to the back burner for a while.

I have dreams of being able to easily walk up stairs, and maybe go for a jog. A realistic dream in the long run perhaps, but very expensive and time consuming and difficult to find a doctor who will do knee replacements on someone this young. This dream seems like a more long term one.

So for now, as I look at it, my dreams are:

*Getting out of the epic amount of debt Q and I share

*Moving back to Colorado by May 2011

*Celebrating our love with a wedding in October 2011

*Speaking at more colleges and universities (long term – be as cool as Tristan and Ducky and Nina Hartley and Midori and Megan Andelloux and the rest of the heavy hitters of sex ed)

*Traveling with Q to Europe – she’s never been, and I miss it badly

*Eventually owning our own home (10 years?)

*In the next 10 years, owning a Hybrid

*Add more states to my “I’ve been there!” list

*Try more cupcakeries and vegetarian restuarants across the US

*Figure out what to do about further education. I always thought that I’d want a PhD, need a PhD, have no other plan than to finally get my doctorate. Now I’m not sure.

*Meet many more amazing people, both online and in real life

*Live an outstanding, crazy and fulfilling life with Q and our kitties

*Enact change and fight for social justice and equality.

Dreams, I will try my best to reach for you, and honor you, but I don’t want to be so specific anymore. I want more of a concept and less of the exact science. I want to dream big, and aim in many directions. Thank you dreams, for being there, for changing with me, for helping me grown.

-Essin’ Em

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters endevor. This is supposed to be a letter to your sibling, or nearest relative. Ergo, I write it to my 20 year old sister.

Dear Sister -

We have not always had the best relationship. In fact, even right now, we don’t have what I would call “the best” relationship. However, we have been working on that, and I’m excited to see how things change.

It’s been hard. You were nine when dad died, and ever since then, I’ve felt it was you and mom against me. I never seemed to have the right answers, I never seemed to do the right activities, wear the right clothes, like the right stuff. You two were peas in a pod, and I felt alone. By choosing to be a lawyer (or at least go that direction), you’ve made the family very happy and gotten them off my back a little. Still, it’s hard being constantly compared to you, your choices, and your successes.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but as of the last couple of months, our phone converations have ended with “I love you.” That hasn’t happened before. I don’t end my talks with mom that way, even though I do with Q, and all my friends. While it has been a very deliberate effort on my part, and perhaps yours as well, it means a lot to me that we are changing our interaction.

We are so different. In looks, in likes, in wants, in needs. It’s hard to connect with you sometimes, because I feel so far away, so out of the loop. I’ve never dated an Air Force Cadet. I wasn’t in a sorority. I never wanted to go to law school. For a while, it seemed like the only thing we could talk about saw sex, and then you’d flip about when I said something you didn’t understand. I myself was nervous talking to you about your first time…shocking, yes, but it’s hard to talk about your sister having sex to your sister…it just is.

So thank you for trying. Please know I’m trying to. It’s hard, being far away, and it’s hard, given all the hurtful feelings that I’ve felt from you and mother in the past, but we will make it work. We’ve already made some very positive changes.

I look forward to more changes, to getting to say I love you more, to having you help plan the wedding, to eventually living in the same state again, and to growing, hopefully, closer. I don’t think we’ll ever be to peas in a pod, but two different veggies sharing the same salad bowl is good enough for me.

-Essin’ Em

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters endevor. As my father has been dead more than a decade, and fulfills other days, I’m going to write this to my mother.

Mother -

We have what many would see as a tumultuous relationship. There really are three parts of you that I get. There is the awesome part, that sends me news articles about gay marriage in other countries, that makes fun of John McCain, that sends Q and I fans for our cars out of the blue.

Then there is the side that has hurt me so much emotionally over the years; the side that convinced me that my family would never approve of/support me in what I do, that my relationships would never be welcome, that I would be ground in HS if I got a B. This is the side that plays BLATANT favoritism with my sister, to the point that people have pointed it out and asked me what I did to piss you off. This is the side that has caused countless tears, nights without sleep, thoughts of becoming a runaway, of emancipating myself in college, of disowning the family. You’ve gotten better in the past bit, but it’s still hard not to think of the acts you did that made me hate myself and regret living. Telling someone they tried to kill themselves because they wanted attention, or because they had a vegetarian diet? That’s just low.

And now, as you grow older into your 60s, there is the side that worries me. This is the part of you that tells me the same thing three times in one phone conversation, that has you confusing me with my sister, that has you tripping in the backyard, falling and hurting your knees. You live alone in a 3-story house, and I know you can’t even get down to the basement to deal with the cat litter (there is vomit and shit all over the floor). I keep trying to encourage you to sell and down size, offering to help you go through the stuff, and to move, but you reject it. I’ve offered to get my handy man friend to come over and put up towel racks that have fallen down for years, or lights that have been out for months. I get no response. It’s very hard to take care of someone who is slowly falling apart when they won’t accept your help. And it’s very hard to offer you help when I’ve been in dire situations, and gotten none from you.

I don’t hate you. I used to think I did, but I’ve realized that I don’t. However, it’s also incredibly hard to love you. I feel like I love you because I have to, not because there has been a growth of love between us. I hope this changes in the next few years, I do. I don’t want to feel this way. I can see that you’re trying; offering to pay for the cupcakes in our wedding is a HUGE step, especially since you don’t support the fact that we’re getting wedded. I appreciate that, and I give you my word that I will try to. Just know that this is all going to take time, and I don’t quite know how much of that we have, given the average life length in our family. But I will try.

I love you, in my own way,

-Essin’ Em

Part of this post is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. This would be Day 2, a letter to my partner/crush. However, it also just so happens to be Q’s 25th birthday, and so I’m combining it.

First of all, today is Q’s 25th birthday (she likes the TMNT a lot, hence the graphic). If you feel so inclined, leave a comment here, or head over to Q’s Twitter with your birthday wishes. Happy birthday baby! No more young driver costs on rental cars — w00t!

And now, my letter.

Dear Q/baby/stud muffin/etc,

I love you, period. I love you more and more every day. I never knew I could love a person so much, and in so many different ways, and more and more and more. I am so happy every single day of my life to have you in it.

Thank you for putting up with me. With my crankiness in the mornings, with my epic fear of bugs (although I did kill that one — I really do hope you’re proud of me, as it was one of the scariest moments of my life), with my messy house style, with my animal print obsession, with our cats and how they get along, with my late nights and travel, with my sex toys scattered around the house, with my pain issues and migraine issues and knee issues, with me being emotionally needy at times. Thank you for working on your communication skills, and for never leaving or going to bed angry (frustrated, perhaps, but never angry).

You do so many amazing things, and I am so incredibly proud of you. The work you’ve done on the campus making it a safer and more inclusive place for LGBTQ students, staff and faculty is just unbelievable, especially given not having a budget, having four campuses, 70,000 students, and the pay check of someone barely out of undergrad. You put your mind to something, and it will be accomplished; that is how dedicated (and at times, stubborn) you are. I just wish your job appreciated you more — you completely deserve it.

I know we have rough patches…whether it’s having to learn to live my my trips to doctors, hospital and ERs, or me learning to live with your sometimes wacky school schedule, we make it work. As gross as it seems, I just can’t even imagine my life without you at this point, so please don’t ever make me have to.

I’m always a little scared. Despite what might seem to be a tough and self-confident exterior, I’m always questioning. Am I pretty enough, am I smart enough, am I dedicated enough, am I good enough. When my knees came to the forefront of our lives, I questioned whether you’d think it was too much, whether you’d give up and leave me because it’s a lot of work, and emotion and scary as fuck to deal with all this. I know it’s hard, and so I will always question how someone can love me enough to deal with it. This has nothing to do with how much I love or trust you; it has to deal with me, and how I view myself. Please don’t let this push you away.

You’re smart, funny, witty, vibrant, silly, deep, introspective, hot, studly, and just over all the best partner (and cat co-parent) that I could ever imagine. Even better, in fact.

<3,

-Essin’ Em

This is part of my 30 Days of Letters blog endeavor. This is day 1, to my best friend. It’s hard, because I have two very very close friends, but I’m going to choose my friend E for this activity.

Dear E-

I’m so glad that more than a decade ago, I chose you out of the random pile of applicants to be my assistant as the head of customing for Charlie’s Aunt. I don’t know what my life would even be like if I hadn’t met you.

Most people meet us, and don’t get how we can be friends. You’ve always loved pinks and purples and flowers and sweet, and I’ve been for the red, black, animal prints and sassiness. Yet despite some of our decorative differences, we have been just the best of friends. From deep talks on feminism and sociology over the phone, to rocking out at various concerts, to our hours-long lunch dates when I was unemployed, you’ve always made me a priority in your life, and I appreciate that so much. I love that if I haven’t heard from you in a week, there is suddenly a call or a text from you, reminding me that we both play an important role in each others’ lives.

I’m having a hard time with you being married now. Not because it’s any different; you two have been together years, and have been living together. It’s more that it’s just a hard situation to get out of, and I’m not 100% sold on your love. Sometimes, he can be the sweetest guy in the world, and I can tell how much he loves you…but sometimes, he’s just a jerk (even his sister agrees). I feel this will always be a slight feeling of awkwardness between us, but maybe I’ll grow to like him. I mean, you did…you had to change your mind after blocking him on AIM.

I love that you challenge me. I love that you make me think about who I am, and my beliefs, and how I communicate these to people around me. I love how much you support me when I’m down, in pain, unemployed, in loss (Athena), breaking up, and more. You are really one of the few people that is there for me, irregardless, throughout my life, and I hope you know that I recognize that.  When I moved to PA, you still were my best friend. Same with my current life in AZ. I can’t say that about everyone; I have a lot of friends whose strength of friendship is based on location…you are certainly not one of those.

Thank you, my dear, for being such a strong support and driving influence in my life. I appreciate you every single day, and I can’t wait to move back to Colorado to spend more time with you (and learn to like your husband). Oh so much love!

-Essin’ Em

I’ve now seen this on both Britni’s blog and They Belong to Us, and I’ve chosen to participate in honor of a new month and such. Basically, the gist is that you write a letter a day for 30 days. It’s part self-awareness/reflection, part writing prompt, part free therapy. Now, don’t worry, I’m not going to subject you to 30 days full o’ letters; your regularly scheduled toy reviews, thoughts, rants, and eye candy will still be available. These will just pepper in throughout the weeks/months. If you too decide to join in, please comment and let me know. Day 1 will start sometime this week.

-Essin’ Em

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

Day 2 — Your Crush/ Partner(s)

Day 3 — Your parents

Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)

Day 5 — Your dreams

Day 6 — A stranger

Day 7 — Your Ex-partner/love/crush

Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend

Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet

Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to

Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to

Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain

Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you

Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from

Day 15 — The person you miss the most

Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country

Day 17 — Someone from your childhood

Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be

Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad

Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest

Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression

Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to

Day 23 — The last person you kissed

Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory

Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times

Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to

Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day

Day 28 — Someone that changed your life

Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to

Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror