Finally, I make my way back to my site. It seems so long since I have posted but between my day job, Belle and being a mom I sometimes get a little too busy to post as often as I would like. I’ve actually been working on another house project. No, my kitchen is not finished yet but this one couldn’t wait. My teen daughter needed a bedroom rehab so I took on the task. This one, I am happy to say turned out much better than my kitchen. I’m even happier to say that it’s finished, after 3 weeks of sanding and staining floor, repainting the walls and trim and a few coats of Varathane as a nice finish on the hardwood floors. So, here’s how it all went.
The first step was to paint the walls. I regret not taking any pictures of the room prior to painting. The walls were a little girl’s pink and the trim a light sky blue. Not appropriate for a 14 year old any more! Here is the only pic I could find of the paint color prior to painting:
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/9/52/67/0/67520951912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
The second step was to sand down the floors. I had bought the house 2.5 years ago and removed the carpeting shortly after. They were dull having never been finished. Here’s what the floor looked like prior to sanding:
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/9/71/75/0/75710951912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/58/70/53/0/53705851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
I’ve never attempted refinishing a hardwood floor so I relied heavily on Google and Home Depot. These next two pics are after 2 days of sanding:
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/88/49/78/0/78498851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/9/52/55/0/55520951912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
Now it was time to stain. The floors looked so fresh being sanded I really wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through with the staining. Because of the color scheme of the furniture and curtains I knew I had to though. Here are two pics staining the first coat and the latter two being after the second coat of stain was applied.
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/98/56/30/0/30569851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/78/92/50/0/50927851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/88/54/60/0/60548851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/88/45/99/0/99458851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
Next was the urethane. I read that Varathane was best so that is what I used. I also decided to go with oil based. Actually, no. My plan was water based because I was in a rush to have this finished for my daughter’s birthday but Home Depot told me because I had used an oil based stain to go with oil based urethane. In all honesty it didn’t have the strong odour I expected but I did keep it well ventilated. After sanding between coats one and two then applying the third coat, this is how it turned out!
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/78/92/30/0/30927851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/88/8/90/0/90088851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/9/52/75/0/75520951912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/88/80/74/0/74808851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
Last but not least was the final coat on the trim, hanging the curtains and setting up the new bed. There’s still some trim work to do, paint and nail the quarter round to fill the gaps along the baseboards, screw in the brown outlet covers and from what see in the pics (didn’t notice till just now) is that the curtain rod needs to be hung a little higher. OK, so it’s not TOTALLY finished yet, but this is the closest I have come to completing a DIY project. Here’s the final outcome:
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/98/37/18/0/18379851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/68/53/63/0/63536851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4272/9/51/68/52/35/0/35526851912_0_ALB.jpg[/img]
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Anthem Etiquette
Laugh as you may, this story is sad but true. Last night I went to the Habs game in Buffalo. As is custom for me anytime I visit HSBC I like to have dinner there. I’m assuming because of Thanksgiving and being Black Friday is was extremely packed so the time it took to order my meal, have my meal served and wait for the waitress with the bill took quite some time. I rushed to get out for a quick cigarette and make a stop at the ladies room before the game started.
Just as I removed my pants and placed my rear end on the seat, the Canadian Anthem began to play. I was always raised to stop EVERYTHING when an anthem is playing so I was in a sort of dilemma. I didn’t have to go REAL bad; I mean it is our anthem and all. I listened for a second; no one else in the ladies room seemed to be doing their thing. Are they holding it or am I in here alone? I had no idea what to do……so I stood up. Yes, in a stall with my pants around my ankles I stood with my hands at my side. :/
I sat again when it was finished being sung, then he American Anthem began to play. :rolleyes: Now I just sort of chuckled as I stood again, it felt so disrespectful to be doing such a thing during a patriotic moment. So my question is…….What is the proper etiquette during an anthem….sit or stand?
Just as I removed my pants and placed my rear end on the seat, the Canadian Anthem began to play. I was always raised to stop EVERYTHING when an anthem is playing so I was in a sort of dilemma. I didn’t have to go REAL bad; I mean it is our anthem and all. I listened for a second; no one else in the ladies room seemed to be doing their thing. Are they holding it or am I in here alone? I had no idea what to do……so I stood up. Yes, in a stall with my pants around my ankles I stood with my hands at my side. :/
I sat again when it was finished being sung, then he American Anthem began to play. :rolleyes: Now I just sort of chuckled as I stood again, it felt so disrespectful to be doing such a thing during a patriotic moment. So my question is…….What is the proper etiquette during an anthem….sit or stand?
Black Friday
For someone who doesn’t like to shop, I’ve been doing an awful lot of it lately. First I would like to say Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends, I hope you enjoyed your turkey and more importantly, time with your friends and family. A big thank you goes out to you as well, from all of us Canadians who took advantage of your ‘Black Friday’ shopping specials! Yes, I braved the crowds but it was sooooo worth it!
I have heard the horror stories but still chose not to heed the warnings of three-hour-long border delays and parking issues. Mind you, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was holding two tickets t the Montreal Canadiens game in Buffalo I wouldn’t have even considered crossing the border. I’ll do most anything to see my Habs play!
So, with sitter lined up, kids home from school and pizza on the table I headed for the peace bridge at 4:30pm. By 4:50 I was on U.S terrain. What about the three hour delay? I must have been in the right place at the right time. I suppose I’ll run into it on the way home. And now it was a bee-line to the Walden Galleria mall in Buffalo. 15 minutes later and I was locking my van, walking into Steve and Barry’s. What happened to the parking lot chaos that was supposed to greet me at Buffalo’s largest mall? It must have been a case of being in the right place at the right time, again.
Now don’t get me wrong, the mall was very busy. But I knew exactly what I was looking for, even mapped it all out before I left home so I knew exactly where the stores were that I needed to shop at. Best Buy and Hollister, that’s it. Since I had entered the mall through Steve and Barry’s I decided to look around there first. Twenty minutes later I checked out of there with three jackets and headed for Best Buy. It only took me ten minutes in there to learn that what I was looking for as advertised in their online flyer was sold in the first five minutes of the store opening. It came as no surprise but it didn’t hurt to try.
Now Hollister. My daughter really wanted a tote from there for school. It’s the cool thong, everyone has one. Funny thing is, they don’t sell them anywhere within n hours drive of Niagara, trust me, I’ve looked! So, apparently all Canadian parents of teens shop at the Walden Galleria for school bags. Or, just those of us that are real suckers. Fighting the mob of teens I managed to grab the tote, plus a pair of sweat pants and a tee that I will give my daughter for Christmas and was out of the store in twenty minutes. Not bad. My job was done, now to get back to my van. Dodging in and out of the crowd I was almost there when I saw it. The Disney Store! I cannot walk past this place without at least taking a little peek. It would be an insult to the Mouse. Besides, everything in the store was 25%-50% off!
Of course, a little peek would never do. My son asked Santa for a skateboard and it just so happened there was a really cool ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ skateboard as well as the helmet and skate pads, so I scooped them up. I grabbed a Mickey stocking for myself, a few sweaters for the kids and was out of there in yet again, twenty minutes. Five more minutes to get to my van. It took me less than 1.5 hours to hit 4 stores and spend $200 yet I came out unscathed and psyched for the hockey game.
Traffic was good, found a perfect spot in the parking garage, (which was definitely a case of being in the right place at the right time ‘cause that just never happens!) hid all of my shopping bags under the seats then fixed my Habs ball cap, straightened out my Habs jersey, zipped up my Habs jacket (yes, I braved the bustling American shopping mall, on a Sabre’s home game night wearing my full blown Habs attire, bringing only one negative comment from an American shopper in the Disney Store who requested the clerk charge me double), then walked into the arena.
The game was great; although we didn’t come through on top tonight it was still a fun game to watch. After filling up on my usual beef on weck and a few wings, it was time to head home. At 10:30 I hit the bridge, at 10:37 I was back on Canadian soil headed home. What happened to the three hour bridge delay? Must have been my lucky day as I seemed to be in the right place, at the right time, all day.
Seems that Homer gave the day up to help out at HSBC arena last night. I’ve posted a few pics of the game, 2 of which are the result of giving Homer access to the jumbo-tron screens!
I have heard the horror stories but still chose not to heed the warnings of three-hour-long border delays and parking issues. Mind you, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was holding two tickets t the Montreal Canadiens game in Buffalo I wouldn’t have even considered crossing the border. I’ll do most anything to see my Habs play!
So, with sitter lined up, kids home from school and pizza on the table I headed for the peace bridge at 4:30pm. By 4:50 I was on U.S terrain. What about the three hour delay? I must have been in the right place at the right time. I suppose I’ll run into it on the way home. And now it was a bee-line to the Walden Galleria mall in Buffalo. 15 minutes later and I was locking my van, walking into Steve and Barry’s. What happened to the parking lot chaos that was supposed to greet me at Buffalo’s largest mall? It must have been a case of being in the right place at the right time, again.
Now don’t get me wrong, the mall was very busy. But I knew exactly what I was looking for, even mapped it all out before I left home so I knew exactly where the stores were that I needed to shop at. Best Buy and Hollister, that’s it. Since I had entered the mall through Steve and Barry’s I decided to look around there first. Twenty minutes later I checked out of there with three jackets and headed for Best Buy. It only took me ten minutes in there to learn that what I was looking for as advertised in their online flyer was sold in the first five minutes of the store opening. It came as no surprise but it didn’t hurt to try.
Now Hollister. My daughter really wanted a tote from there for school. It’s the cool thong, everyone has one. Funny thing is, they don’t sell them anywhere within n hours drive of Niagara, trust me, I’ve looked! So, apparently all Canadian parents of teens shop at the Walden Galleria for school bags. Or, just those of us that are real suckers. Fighting the mob of teens I managed to grab the tote, plus a pair of sweat pants and a tee that I will give my daughter for Christmas and was out of the store in twenty minutes. Not bad. My job was done, now to get back to my van. Dodging in and out of the crowd I was almost there when I saw it. The Disney Store! I cannot walk past this place without at least taking a little peek. It would be an insult to the Mouse. Besides, everything in the store was 25%-50% off!
Of course, a little peek would never do. My son asked Santa for a skateboard and it just so happened there was a really cool ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ skateboard as well as the helmet and skate pads, so I scooped them up. I grabbed a Mickey stocking for myself, a few sweaters for the kids and was out of there in yet again, twenty minutes. Five more minutes to get to my van. It took me less than 1.5 hours to hit 4 stores and spend $200 yet I came out unscathed and psyched for the hockey game.
Traffic was good, found a perfect spot in the parking garage, (which was definitely a case of being in the right place at the right time ‘cause that just never happens!) hid all of my shopping bags under the seats then fixed my Habs ball cap, straightened out my Habs jersey, zipped up my Habs jacket (yes, I braved the bustling American shopping mall, on a Sabre’s home game night wearing my full blown Habs attire, bringing only one negative comment from an American shopper in the Disney Store who requested the clerk charge me double), then walked into the arena.
The game was great; although we didn’t come through on top tonight it was still a fun game to watch. After filling up on my usual beef on weck and a few wings, it was time to head home. At 10:30 I hit the bridge, at 10:37 I was back on Canadian soil headed home. What happened to the three hour bridge delay? Must have been my lucky day as I seemed to be in the right place, at the right time, all day.
Seems that Homer gave the day up to help out at HSBC arena last night. I’ve posted a few pics of the game, 2 of which are the result of giving Homer access to the jumbo-tron screens!
I love Fall!
I love touring the escarpment as the leaves are changing colors, the vibrant reds and oranges lighting up a most beautiful scenic route through the falls. While some see fall as the end to summer, I choose to see it as a fresh start, a new season that with it will hopefully come new beginnings. I went for a walk around my neighborhood a couple of days ago and realized that I don't have to head to the river to see such beautiful surroundings as I have it in my very own backyard. While I love the way the trees look as the leaves begin changing colors, I think they look just as beautiful on the ground and the bare trees, in their own way are just as beautiful. I just had to share these with you, hope you enjoy!
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/16/81/31/0/31811658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/97/76/0/76973658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/26/39/93/0/93392658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/66/67/0/67663658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/81/59/0/59813658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/26/66/99/0/99662658812_0_SM.jpg[/img]
[img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/16/81/31/0/31811658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/97/76/0/76973658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/26/39/93/0/93392658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/66/67/0/67663658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/36/81/59/0/59813658812_0_SM.jpg[/img] [img]http://images.kodakgallery.com/photos4223/8/58/26/66/99/0/99662658812_0_SM.jpg[/img]
Another rant.....shopping....ugh!
Have I mentioned before just how much I despise shopping? Probably not, so now you know. Yes, I am a woman who does not like to shop. Imagine. I'm not sure why that is though. Maybe it is the fact that I have worked in the customer service industry my entire working career and have just had it with people. Yes, maybe that has something to do with it. From being cut off on Lundy's Lane on the way to the store, to having the mall entrance door closed in my face because people are not polite enough to look behind them anymore, to rude sales people who kiss your ass until you buy from them, I despise shopping.
My teen has a birthday coming up this week. I have decide to paint her room (pink is not cool when you’re 14) and buy her a new bed (a mattress on the floor isn’t cool either). Now don’t go thinking I’m a cruel mom who makes her daughter sleep on the floor. She did have a metal frame for that bed, had a pillow fight with her girlfriend 6 months ago and broke the wheels of the metal frame which badly scratched the hardwood floors…..and then I made her sleep on the floor! :P
So, being just hours away from her birthday I realized I couldn’t put off shopping any longer and ventured out into the sea of rude, money-driven people to find out if I could get a good deal on a bed. My first stop would have been Sleep Country if I didn’t have a problem with them two years ago. I wanted a head and footboard for my bed. I walked into their store and after browsing a few minutes I saw a beautiful pewter set I wanted. The only one they had was the one on display. Perfect, I’ll take it. It was just under $800.
They asked me to come back later that day and they would have it taken apart and waiting for me. Fair enough. Later that day I returned, drove it home and set it up. The rails were ok but they did not fit the kingsize head and footboard. I returned to the store, exchanged for proper rails and went home to try again. Wrong screws. Not a big deal right? Wrong. Three months later they finally reimbursed me the entire purchase as the bed was discontinued and the screws (factory ordered) went missing. Go figure. No, I still do not have a head or footboard for my bed. Anyways……
I drove to The Sleep Factory where I purchased a metal futon bunkbed 2 weeks ago for my other daughter for her birthday. I walked in and the same woman I had dealt with 2 weeks ago was taking care of a couple that were looking at day beds. Aside from them I was the only one in the store. I walked around for a few minutes waiting for her to greet me, which she did not. They were chatting at the front of the store so I moved to the rear, checking out a few frames and looking for a captain’s bed, which I did not see. Some 20 minutes later the couple leaves and she asks if she can help me. No “hello” or “good afternoon”, just “What can I help you with?” I told her I was looking for a captain’s bed, preferably with a bookcase headboard in a dark finish and she pointed to a captain’s bed at the front of the store.
It was a maple color and would take 2-4 weeks for delivery, I told her I was looking for something in a darker finish and that I cold take home with me today. She then showed me another captain’s bed, still in a maple finish but told me it will darken with age. Gotta love sales people. :rolleyes: But this one I could take home today. I told her it was still too light. Then, and only after I told her I planned on checking out another furniture store to see if they had something closer to what I was looking for, did she roll her eyes, then show me another captain’s bed, in a darker finish which was considerably cheaper than the other two. Now that just pissed me off. It was a decent bed and would have served its purpose but there was no way I was giving this woman dime. You did NOT just roll your eyes at me, did you?
First, she did not recognize me from just 2 weeks earlier when I spent 45 minutes with her buying a $600 bed. Then she couldn’t even be bothered to greet me. Then, after clearly stating what I was looking for she showed me everything I did not want, then rolled her eyes when I said I was going to continue looking elsewhere till I found what I was looking for, then….showed me what I was looking for as a last resort! When I made it clear I was not buying from her, she turned and walked away…not even a “good-bye”!
So, back out in the parking lot having a smoke I found myself in a position that I hate being in. I’d have to stick my tail between my legs and head to Sleep Country as it is the only other furniture store I know of in Niagara Falls. So off I went although not very happy about it. Walking in the door I took a quick look around but did not see a captain’s bed. Lots of metal frames and mattresses but no wooden beds to be seen. To their credit I was greeted right away and once again I explained what I was looking for.
The sales guy then tells me they are not a furniture store. Hmmm. :/ Ok, so you are not a furniture store, but you sell beds and I am looking for a bed. Well, we don’t sell bedroom furniture he tells me. Ok, wait a minute. I was here 2 years ago and bought a bed frame complete with rails, headboard and footboard. And as I look around this store I see about 30 beds set up. To me, that is bedroom furniture. No, he says, it’s not. Apparently metal does not count as furniture. Now I’m confused. Why are wood products considered furniture and metal is not? He explains that the store name is Sleep Country, specifying that that the name implies mattresses as their specialty and not bedroom furniture. I said “No, it implies sleep….and I don’t know about you but I associate sleep with a bed….except in my daughter’s case where she is sleeping on the floor, which obviously you are going to do nothing to help me out with!”
This, my friends, is why I despise shopping. I hate playing games with people. I don’t want to browse a store, window shop and dicker around with prices. I know what I want so I ask for it. What is so hard about being told either “Yes, here is what you are looking for” or “No, sorry but we do not carry that”?
Now, tomorrow I have to contact Bell. You know, the phone directory people? Yes, well….after I got home from my frustrating trip to the “non-bedroom-furniture” store I opened up the yellow pages and did a search under “F”. Under the heading ‘“Furniture-Retail’ was Sleep Country. Must have been a misprint. :rolleyes:
My teen has a birthday coming up this week. I have decide to paint her room (pink is not cool when you’re 14) and buy her a new bed (a mattress on the floor isn’t cool either). Now don’t go thinking I’m a cruel mom who makes her daughter sleep on the floor. She did have a metal frame for that bed, had a pillow fight with her girlfriend 6 months ago and broke the wheels of the metal frame which badly scratched the hardwood floors…..and then I made her sleep on the floor! :P
So, being just hours away from her birthday I realized I couldn’t put off shopping any longer and ventured out into the sea of rude, money-driven people to find out if I could get a good deal on a bed. My first stop would have been Sleep Country if I didn’t have a problem with them two years ago. I wanted a head and footboard for my bed. I walked into their store and after browsing a few minutes I saw a beautiful pewter set I wanted. The only one they had was the one on display. Perfect, I’ll take it. It was just under $800.
They asked me to come back later that day and they would have it taken apart and waiting for me. Fair enough. Later that day I returned, drove it home and set it up. The rails were ok but they did not fit the kingsize head and footboard. I returned to the store, exchanged for proper rails and went home to try again. Wrong screws. Not a big deal right? Wrong. Three months later they finally reimbursed me the entire purchase as the bed was discontinued and the screws (factory ordered) went missing. Go figure. No, I still do not have a head or footboard for my bed. Anyways……
I drove to The Sleep Factory where I purchased a metal futon bunkbed 2 weeks ago for my other daughter for her birthday. I walked in and the same woman I had dealt with 2 weeks ago was taking care of a couple that were looking at day beds. Aside from them I was the only one in the store. I walked around for a few minutes waiting for her to greet me, which she did not. They were chatting at the front of the store so I moved to the rear, checking out a few frames and looking for a captain’s bed, which I did not see. Some 20 minutes later the couple leaves and she asks if she can help me. No “hello” or “good afternoon”, just “What can I help you with?” I told her I was looking for a captain’s bed, preferably with a bookcase headboard in a dark finish and she pointed to a captain’s bed at the front of the store.
It was a maple color and would take 2-4 weeks for delivery, I told her I was looking for something in a darker finish and that I cold take home with me today. She then showed me another captain’s bed, still in a maple finish but told me it will darken with age. Gotta love sales people. :rolleyes: But this one I could take home today. I told her it was still too light. Then, and only after I told her I planned on checking out another furniture store to see if they had something closer to what I was looking for, did she roll her eyes, then show me another captain’s bed, in a darker finish which was considerably cheaper than the other two. Now that just pissed me off. It was a decent bed and would have served its purpose but there was no way I was giving this woman dime. You did NOT just roll your eyes at me, did you?
First, she did not recognize me from just 2 weeks earlier when I spent 45 minutes with her buying a $600 bed. Then she couldn’t even be bothered to greet me. Then, after clearly stating what I was looking for she showed me everything I did not want, then rolled her eyes when I said I was going to continue looking elsewhere till I found what I was looking for, then….showed me what I was looking for as a last resort! When I made it clear I was not buying from her, she turned and walked away…not even a “good-bye”!
So, back out in the parking lot having a smoke I found myself in a position that I hate being in. I’d have to stick my tail between my legs and head to Sleep Country as it is the only other furniture store I know of in Niagara Falls. So off I went although not very happy about it. Walking in the door I took a quick look around but did not see a captain’s bed. Lots of metal frames and mattresses but no wooden beds to be seen. To their credit I was greeted right away and once again I explained what I was looking for.
The sales guy then tells me they are not a furniture store. Hmmm. :/ Ok, so you are not a furniture store, but you sell beds and I am looking for a bed. Well, we don’t sell bedroom furniture he tells me. Ok, wait a minute. I was here 2 years ago and bought a bed frame complete with rails, headboard and footboard. And as I look around this store I see about 30 beds set up. To me, that is bedroom furniture. No, he says, it’s not. Apparently metal does not count as furniture. Now I’m confused. Why are wood products considered furniture and metal is not? He explains that the store name is Sleep Country, specifying that that the name implies mattresses as their specialty and not bedroom furniture. I said “No, it implies sleep….and I don’t know about you but I associate sleep with a bed….except in my daughter’s case where she is sleeping on the floor, which obviously you are going to do nothing to help me out with!”
This, my friends, is why I despise shopping. I hate playing games with people. I don’t want to browse a store, window shop and dicker around with prices. I know what I want so I ask for it. What is so hard about being told either “Yes, here is what you are looking for” or “No, sorry but we do not carry that”?
Now, tomorrow I have to contact Bell. You know, the phone directory people? Yes, well….after I got home from my frustrating trip to the “non-bedroom-furniture” store I opened up the yellow pages and did a search under “F”. Under the heading ‘“Furniture-Retail’ was Sleep Country. Must have been a misprint. :rolleyes:
Remember the first cola you ever drank?
In the past few weeks I have spent a wonderful amout of time visiting with my nana and my great-nana. All too often I hear family members talk about a loved one that had passed away, wishing they had spent more time with them. While I have always been close with my nana's....I'm holding on extra tight to the time we have left to share our lives. It is amazing the things I have learned about my great-nana's life. Born the year the Titanic sank, she has seen most of what I have only read in history books. Hearing the stories first hand is incredible. But what is more amazing to me are the simple recollections she has of her youth. Don't ask her about yesterday, but her memory of 50-70 years ago is astounding.
In 1945 while family was visiting from out of town, my great-nana, her aunt and uncle and their company were spending a lovely Sunday afternoon walking along the boardwalk in Crystal Beach. She remembers how hot it was, how beautiful everyone was dressed having just come from church and how excited she was to have company visiting from out of town. They stopped at a market booth where her uncle bought everyone a bottle of cola. She remembers how sweet it was. Being from a poor family, she had seldom tasted anything artificially sweet let alone to imagine ever being able to affort a bottle of cola. That was something rich people drank. She kept her bottle for years after but it wasn't until she was nearly 50 that she had ever bought a bottle of her own. Can you imagine?
Even better is this one. Being from a poor family living on a tobacco farm near Delhi Ontario, my great-nana was sent to live with an aunt for a few years as her mother could not afford to raise her at the time. My nana would help with the farm and was taught how to cook and press laundry. Once a week her aunt would head into town to buy groceries and necessities for the farm. When my nana turned 11 (1923) she was invited to join her aunt for the trip. It was the first time my nana had seen the city. They shopped all morning at the market then sat at a bench that ran alongside the market where my nana had her first restaurant meal. She said she could remember feeling so grown-up and made sure to use her manners and ettiquette that her aunt had taught her. Even more amazing was that the total bill for two full course meals was 25 cents. You can't even use a public phone for 25 cents anymore!
Then, this afternoon as I stopped by to pick up a pot of homemade chicken soup she made for me we began talking about strip clubs of all things! Her second husband was the owner of a Chevrolet car dealership and was given an expense paid trip to Montreal for business which he took my nana along. Details were sketchy but somehow, a business dinner had been arranged at a strip club. Prim and proper, my nana had to sit awkwardly through a meal while above-the-waist naked women danced about. This led to talking about marriages today and how they lack the romance and courtship of her time. She fondly remembered a movie she watched when she was quite young. It was about a beautiful woman who desperately needed money and so when her husband was at work, she would escort. How odd that any story she has told me of her youth I could not relate to yet this movie I have seen and the story I know quite well. That movie, Belle De Jour sits under my matress. I didn't consider it wise to inform her about a documentary on the subject that will be aired soon. :rolleyes:
It is wonderful to hear of a time well before my years, to be able to appreciate her life and what her eyes have seen. What amazes me more about her is that she accepts change so well. She is not bitter for things she did not have but ever so thankful for the things that she does have. She still writes letters most every day, still crochets her hankerchiefs and knits all of us grown kids slippers for Christmas. I am so blessed to have these moments with her and just had to share some of it with you. Thanks for listening.
In 1945 while family was visiting from out of town, my great-nana, her aunt and uncle and their company were spending a lovely Sunday afternoon walking along the boardwalk in Crystal Beach. She remembers how hot it was, how beautiful everyone was dressed having just come from church and how excited she was to have company visiting from out of town. They stopped at a market booth where her uncle bought everyone a bottle of cola. She remembers how sweet it was. Being from a poor family, she had seldom tasted anything artificially sweet let alone to imagine ever being able to affort a bottle of cola. That was something rich people drank. She kept her bottle for years after but it wasn't until she was nearly 50 that she had ever bought a bottle of her own. Can you imagine?
Even better is this one. Being from a poor family living on a tobacco farm near Delhi Ontario, my great-nana was sent to live with an aunt for a few years as her mother could not afford to raise her at the time. My nana would help with the farm and was taught how to cook and press laundry. Once a week her aunt would head into town to buy groceries and necessities for the farm. When my nana turned 11 (1923) she was invited to join her aunt for the trip. It was the first time my nana had seen the city. They shopped all morning at the market then sat at a bench that ran alongside the market where my nana had her first restaurant meal. She said she could remember feeling so grown-up and made sure to use her manners and ettiquette that her aunt had taught her. Even more amazing was that the total bill for two full course meals was 25 cents. You can't even use a public phone for 25 cents anymore!
Then, this afternoon as I stopped by to pick up a pot of homemade chicken soup she made for me we began talking about strip clubs of all things! Her second husband was the owner of a Chevrolet car dealership and was given an expense paid trip to Montreal for business which he took my nana along. Details were sketchy but somehow, a business dinner had been arranged at a strip club. Prim and proper, my nana had to sit awkwardly through a meal while above-the-waist naked women danced about. This led to talking about marriages today and how they lack the romance and courtship of her time. She fondly remembered a movie she watched when she was quite young. It was about a beautiful woman who desperately needed money and so when her husband was at work, she would escort. How odd that any story she has told me of her youth I could not relate to yet this movie I have seen and the story I know quite well. That movie, Belle De Jour sits under my matress. I didn't consider it wise to inform her about a documentary on the subject that will be aired soon. :rolleyes:
It is wonderful to hear of a time well before my years, to be able to appreciate her life and what her eyes have seen. What amazes me more about her is that she accepts change so well. She is not bitter for things she did not have but ever so thankful for the things that she does have. She still writes letters most every day, still crochets her hankerchiefs and knits all of us grown kids slippers for Christmas. I am so blessed to have these moments with her and just had to share some of it with you. Thanks for listening.
Do you ever feel used as a hobbyist?
There are some aspects of escorting I feel safe talking with all of you about. The positives, of course. I know it sounds so cliche but I thrived on the attention, the compliments and the rush of feeling wanted by a man. Of course, I enjoyed the money as well but that goes without saying. But the negative, the down side isn't so fun to write about. Yet it is what it is. Ponder this:
I had spent much of my "off" time emailing back and forth with potential clients before actually meeting with them. I wanted to be sure that I could provide the experience that they were looking for and would be completely honest with them if I felt they would be disappointed in my services. First, I would cover the physical things. My small breasts and slighlty larger than average thighs and waist. It would be humiliating for me to arrive at a door and be turned away because my image was not as expected. Next would be services. "No, I do not provide dom/sub/fetish/roleplay" etc. It is not to say I have an issue with those services, they are just something I had chosen not to provide. If that is what a potential client was looking for I would offer to suggest a lady that may be able to help. I think by doing this I built up a certain amount of credibility in the industry. I was honest, even if I did not have anything to gain financially by that honesty. The money was nice, but my reputation meant more.
So, by doing the above I had seldom experienced a "call" that made me uncomfortable. In the two years I had escorted, only on three occasions was I put in an unassuming situation. All three times were calls through the agency. Their screening process, not mine. Still, three was three too many. Aside from those three visits, I left each and every appointment feeling satisfied. Perhaps not sexually, but I was not being paid to "get off" myself. I was being paid to be something, an illusion, a fantasy, a companion....an escort. I was to give these men passion, something that for many clients had become something they lacked in their personal lives. Intimacy, the soft caress of a woman, the passionate kiss that took them to another place. A place where ther were no deadlines, no expectations, no pressures. Just that moment. That was what I was paid to do. So, that being said, I should feel good about giving my clients what they paid me for, no? Not always.
The one-timers, the clients that had visited me for an hour and then I never saw again, for them this is not an issue. For the regular clients, the repeaters, the ones that chose to see me on several occasions I quite often battled with my own guilt. Many of these men are lonely. Married or not, they, like me became attached to the fantasy. The intimacy soon becomes real, somewhere crossing over from that fastasy. For me I can honestly say I have never viewed any client as anything more that what it is. I have never envisioned myself forming a personal sexual relationship with any client. But I know it is different for most of the men I had met. I had rules. My time must be paid for. At no time would I visit with a client and not be paid for that time. I never offered multiple rates, discounts on late-night visits or "frequent f***" points for repeat clients. My rate was not to be bargained for. Whether it be dinner, a movie or time spent naked on a bed....my rate was my rate. It made things less complicated as I despised having to discuss the impersonal monetary transaction.
On the reverse side, some clients would ask for more. There was nothing more frustrating in the escorting business than being asked out for dinner and me having to remind the clients that the usual rate would apply. I made the mistake once, accepting a four hour "dinner" appointment then at the end of the evening being paid less that my usual one hour rate. Sure I could have caused a scene but the reality was that it was not dicussed prior to the "date". That was my mistake and even though I assumed it was obvious I expected to be paid for the four hours, he on the other hand thought I was there simply because I enjoyed his company.
Now, before you jump all over me for this let me say that I have made some very true and dear personal friendships from clients I met through this business. Some of them have been clients, others I have met at events but had never been paid to befriend them. And these few friends, I go for coffee with, sometimes meet for dinners, even head out to a hockey game with once in a while. I am not a cold-hearted bitch who simply uses people for money. But in saying that, I am a business woman who ( in my own opinion) ran a viable business and was well paid for doing so. Bottom line, it is a business. If I had begun visiting with my regular clients on my own time I would have lost a big portion of my income. Some clients, after seeing me regularly for quite some time, chose to stop seeing me because they were becoming too personally involved. And there were some clients I decided to no longer "date" because I could see they were ( again, in my opinion) too emotionally involved.
One thing I had always wondered though, was if these clients have ever felt they were being taken advantage of. I tried to dance around this issue any time a client ever brought it up. Yes, the reality is that I am here, naked in a room with you, because you are paying me to do so. But what makes a good escort (among other things) is the ability to not have the encounter feel like a cold business transaction. Some of that ability, to some degree, requires being able to put on a good front. But to do so, hour after hour for any extended period of time must involve a certain amount of sincerity. I would never ask a client to borrow money, nor would I ever discuss my finacial situation. I never wanted a client to feel that I looked at him as my personal ATM, quite honestly because I never thought of them that way. But.....I did always expect to be paid for the time I spent with them.
With the table turned I suppose I could pose this question to other service providers in the industry. Do any of you feel you are being used for sex? Sounds like a silly question....of course we are. But I was seldom ever made to feel that way by a client. I have always felt comfortable to do what I was comfortable with and stand up for the things I was not. And I found that my clients respected my decisions. I never felt forced to engage in any activity (aside from the odd "non-condom" users I would walk out on) that I was not a willing participant of. That is the difference between the fantasy life of an escort and the reality of marriage.
Married 14 years. I am sure some of you can relate to this. Perhaps I am speaking to the wrong population as I am sure a high percentage of my readers are male, but I will carry on with my point anyways. Why is it that I can sleep with multiple strangers and not feel any pressure to perform in a certain manner yet in my marriage sex was a duty? Many times I would send out the clear message that I wasn't feeling well or just simpy not interested yet when I would roll over in the opposite direction it was just taken as an invitation to help one's self? The times that I would just lay there thinking, "Is he for real?" or "Don't try to romanticize it, I'm not going to get off so would you already!" It had come to the point that I despised sex. I would refuse it just to piss him off, yet it never stopped him. He was not agressive, nor did I ever become so. It was just a duty. Sad that I felt that way with my husband and not with my clients. Don't get me wrong, there were times, few and far between that I was just horny and wanted sex....but it was never met with any hesitation on his part. Not surprising, I know.
So, has a service provider ever made you feel she is using you for money? Do you ever feel you are being used by your partner for sex? Is it wrong to feel that way or is it just how life is and we must put up with it? I know, long winded but I'm a little under the weather tonight and couldnt sleep. Any thoughts?
I had spent much of my "off" time emailing back and forth with potential clients before actually meeting with them. I wanted to be sure that I could provide the experience that they were looking for and would be completely honest with them if I felt they would be disappointed in my services. First, I would cover the physical things. My small breasts and slighlty larger than average thighs and waist. It would be humiliating for me to arrive at a door and be turned away because my image was not as expected. Next would be services. "No, I do not provide dom/sub/fetish/roleplay" etc. It is not to say I have an issue with those services, they are just something I had chosen not to provide. If that is what a potential client was looking for I would offer to suggest a lady that may be able to help. I think by doing this I built up a certain amount of credibility in the industry. I was honest, even if I did not have anything to gain financially by that honesty. The money was nice, but my reputation meant more.
So, by doing the above I had seldom experienced a "call" that made me uncomfortable. In the two years I had escorted, only on three occasions was I put in an unassuming situation. All three times were calls through the agency. Their screening process, not mine. Still, three was three too many. Aside from those three visits, I left each and every appointment feeling satisfied. Perhaps not sexually, but I was not being paid to "get off" myself. I was being paid to be something, an illusion, a fantasy, a companion....an escort. I was to give these men passion, something that for many clients had become something they lacked in their personal lives. Intimacy, the soft caress of a woman, the passionate kiss that took them to another place. A place where ther were no deadlines, no expectations, no pressures. Just that moment. That was what I was paid to do. So, that being said, I should feel good about giving my clients what they paid me for, no? Not always.
The one-timers, the clients that had visited me for an hour and then I never saw again, for them this is not an issue. For the regular clients, the repeaters, the ones that chose to see me on several occasions I quite often battled with my own guilt. Many of these men are lonely. Married or not, they, like me became attached to the fantasy. The intimacy soon becomes real, somewhere crossing over from that fastasy. For me I can honestly say I have never viewed any client as anything more that what it is. I have never envisioned myself forming a personal sexual relationship with any client. But I know it is different for most of the men I had met. I had rules. My time must be paid for. At no time would I visit with a client and not be paid for that time. I never offered multiple rates, discounts on late-night visits or "frequent f***" points for repeat clients. My rate was not to be bargained for. Whether it be dinner, a movie or time spent naked on a bed....my rate was my rate. It made things less complicated as I despised having to discuss the impersonal monetary transaction.
On the reverse side, some clients would ask for more. There was nothing more frustrating in the escorting business than being asked out for dinner and me having to remind the clients that the usual rate would apply. I made the mistake once, accepting a four hour "dinner" appointment then at the end of the evening being paid less that my usual one hour rate. Sure I could have caused a scene but the reality was that it was not dicussed prior to the "date". That was my mistake and even though I assumed it was obvious I expected to be paid for the four hours, he on the other hand thought I was there simply because I enjoyed his company.
Now, before you jump all over me for this let me say that I have made some very true and dear personal friendships from clients I met through this business. Some of them have been clients, others I have met at events but had never been paid to befriend them. And these few friends, I go for coffee with, sometimes meet for dinners, even head out to a hockey game with once in a while. I am not a cold-hearted bitch who simply uses people for money. But in saying that, I am a business woman who ( in my own opinion) ran a viable business and was well paid for doing so. Bottom line, it is a business. If I had begun visiting with my regular clients on my own time I would have lost a big portion of my income. Some clients, after seeing me regularly for quite some time, chose to stop seeing me because they were becoming too personally involved. And there were some clients I decided to no longer "date" because I could see they were ( again, in my opinion) too emotionally involved.
One thing I had always wondered though, was if these clients have ever felt they were being taken advantage of. I tried to dance around this issue any time a client ever brought it up. Yes, the reality is that I am here, naked in a room with you, because you are paying me to do so. But what makes a good escort (among other things) is the ability to not have the encounter feel like a cold business transaction. Some of that ability, to some degree, requires being able to put on a good front. But to do so, hour after hour for any extended period of time must involve a certain amount of sincerity. I would never ask a client to borrow money, nor would I ever discuss my finacial situation. I never wanted a client to feel that I looked at him as my personal ATM, quite honestly because I never thought of them that way. But.....I did always expect to be paid for the time I spent with them.
With the table turned I suppose I could pose this question to other service providers in the industry. Do any of you feel you are being used for sex? Sounds like a silly question....of course we are. But I was seldom ever made to feel that way by a client. I have always felt comfortable to do what I was comfortable with and stand up for the things I was not. And I found that my clients respected my decisions. I never felt forced to engage in any activity (aside from the odd "non-condom" users I would walk out on) that I was not a willing participant of. That is the difference between the fantasy life of an escort and the reality of marriage.
Married 14 years. I am sure some of you can relate to this. Perhaps I am speaking to the wrong population as I am sure a high percentage of my readers are male, but I will carry on with my point anyways. Why is it that I can sleep with multiple strangers and not feel any pressure to perform in a certain manner yet in my marriage sex was a duty? Many times I would send out the clear message that I wasn't feeling well or just simpy not interested yet when I would roll over in the opposite direction it was just taken as an invitation to help one's self? The times that I would just lay there thinking, "Is he for real?" or "Don't try to romanticize it, I'm not going to get off so would you already!" It had come to the point that I despised sex. I would refuse it just to piss him off, yet it never stopped him. He was not agressive, nor did I ever become so. It was just a duty. Sad that I felt that way with my husband and not with my clients. Don't get me wrong, there were times, few and far between that I was just horny and wanted sex....but it was never met with any hesitation on his part. Not surprising, I know.
So, has a service provider ever made you feel she is using you for money? Do you ever feel you are being used by your partner for sex? Is it wrong to feel that way or is it just how life is and we must put up with it? I know, long winded but I'm a little under the weather tonight and couldnt sleep. Any thoughts?
World Poker Tour, Fallsview Casino
Any poker fans out there? If so, I am sure you are aware of the WPT North American Poker Championship that Fallsview Casino held last week. Being a poker fan myself, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to check out a few of my favorite players in action. 504 players and a $10,000 ticket all in the hopes of being the one to take home the 1.3 million dollar prize.
The final table was exciting. At times long and drawn out but exciting none-the-less considering the cameras, the media and once it was down to heads-up…the cold cash prize sitting on the table. Most of the big guys, those favored to win the tourney were knocked out quite early leaving only Barry Greenstein the only familiar face at the final table. Hopeful spectators stood in line outside the Grand Ballroom, lining up early in the afternoon in hopes of being given 1/100 WPT numbered poker chips which was not only a souvenir but your ticket to be a part of the taping for the WPT final table.
Barry Greenstein paced the hallway, his book “Ace on the River” in hand. This book Barry carries with him to all final tables he plays at. If a player busts him out, he signs the book on the spot and gives it to the player that busted him. It’s Barry’s trademark. He’s a seasoned player, hard to compare him with the two 19 year old players he is up against in the final 6 TV table. He looked calm, stopping to greet the spectators and sign a few autographs. He showed a great deal of class and maturity, whereas his counterparts did not make an appearance until the cameras were rolling. I had to remind myself that those kids playing against him…..they plan on living the dream with the money that is at stake. But Barry…..he donates 100% of his net tournament winnings to children’s charities. He truly loves the game, not the money.
At 3 pm the numbers were being called to seat the spectators, it took almost an hour before everyone was seated. Inside, the set-up was really cool. The final table, surrounded by cameras, multiple TV screens showing promo ads for WPT and Fallsview Casino, 4 widescreen TV’s for spectator views of the action, camera crew everywhere not to mention casino staff and security. Spectators were seated 6 rows deep (the first 2 rows of each side reserved for friends and family of the players) on three sides of the table, the rear view (behind the dealer) being reserved for media.
The camera crew spent the first 20 minutes filming audience applause for editing purposes and then getting acquainted with those in the reserved seating, knowing where to shoot when players are at a showdown. To the right of the table was the cheering squad for Jonathan Little who I was rooting for myself. 19 years old, his face still showing the pimples of puberty but his persona at the table is comparable to the pros. If he’s nervous he doesn’t show it. He’s inexperienced at this level of play but you would have no idea. He’s emotionless at the table and the players have nothing to go on if they are relying on expression to tell his game. Not only that, but he’s from Florida which put him at the top of my fav’s list for this game.
The centre section, facing the table dead on was clearly a Dave Cloutier fan section. A Canadian from Brampton, this was his first WPT tourney and being the closest in geographic nature to Niagara he had the most supporters to cheer him on (although I have to say that in my experience with them for the 12+ hours of taping they were the most annoying, rude, obnoxious people there). I just couldn’t find it in me to root for him even though he was the only Canadian remaining.
To the left of the table sat the friends, family and fans of Scott Clements. He is another of my favorites aside from the fact he is married to a bimbo blonde and has a cocky “found money” attitude. He’s cute though and fun to watch. I was hoping heads-up would be between him and Jonathan and to my liking, so it was. The remaining three players had their fans disbursed throughout the sections, their fan base just a little more low key.
Just past 4pm the Casino shift manager Jason March announced “Shuffle up and deal” and the game had begun. The expected announcer for WPT was not there for some reason and the CSM was left to announce the hands and plays the players made. Behind the dealer and to the right was the stage set for the WPT commentators Mike Sexton and Vincent Van Patten. You can tell Mike is both a poker player and a TV persona as he sat behind the desk staring into the camera for hours on end. Had anyone not known any better you would have sworn he was taken directly from the wax museum atop Clifton Hill and placed there. He moved once or twice during the break to visit the men’s room, other than that he didn’t blink. You could hear him commentating into the camera during play but he was quite stoic.
Vincent did not seem impressed by the slow-playing of the final table. He looked tired and seemed to be having some back trouble although by hour 8 most people in the room seemed to have the same problem. There was another young player, Kofi Farkye at the final table. I was upset he made the money landing 5th place with $218,000, here’s the story with this guy…..
All these poker players are always asked, “What handle do/did you play under when participating in online play?” Kofi, when asked this by CardPlayer staff during an interview declined to answer. Odd considering most players are more than happy to disclose their online usernames. Turns out, while playing the final table event the day prior to the final six taping, it came out that Kofi used to play under the name “redsoxsox” on Pokerstars. Jeff Garza, who was playing at the final table with Kofi recognizes the name as he is a Pokerstars player as well. Turns out Jeff had played an online tourney with “redsoxsox” and noticed what appeared to be some collusion between him and another player. A second $100 buy-in tourney, Jeff noticed the same two players doing the same thing so he reported it to Pokerstars. An investigation led to “redsoxsox” being banned for life, his many online tournament wins in 2006 likely a result of crooked play. Ironic that both anonymous players ended up playing against one another at this final table! Unfortunately Jeff did not get the revenge he was looking for and did not make he final table of 6 for the WPT taping.
I believe it was about 11pm before Barry was knocked out by Dave Cloutier. He autographed his book for Dave, shook hads with the remaining players and quietly left the set. A man of class, without a doubt. Finally, after 3 hours of slow playing their hands Dave was busted out and at about 1:30am we were heads up. The game was paused while the Director and Shift Managers for Fallsview Casino did the taped money presentation, brining just over 1.3 million dollars in 3 briefcases to the table. The money was dumped, the bracelet and trophy placed alongside the neatly wrapped 100 dollar bills and the game was back in action with Clements owning double the chip stack over Little.
On the 14th hand of heads-up play (271 hands total and breaking the record for most WPT final table hand count) Little raised to $180,000 from the button. Clements called. The flop came, both players checked. On the turn Clements checked, Little bet $250,00 which was met by a raise from Clements to $550,000 at which point Little called all-in. Everyone stood, who was it going to be? Clements showed trip five’s and ithout a card to better Little’s hand the WPT title went to Scott Clements. It was a great game, something I thought really neat to be a part of.
Afterwards there were several interviews and then out came the champagne toast with the Casino CSM’s and WPT Producers. Quite a thrill to be there but I have to say, I couldn’t wait to get home in my bed. I think it’s time to quit my job and become a poker player. Let’s face it, no one gets rich working on an hourly wage! I could just imagine what the commentators would have to say about Belle, the escort. The mom of four, still at it, hustling men for money at the poker tables.:rolleyes: Boy would they have a field day with that one.
The one thing this tournament was lacking was entertainment. They need some comic relief in there to break the tension. I think though, if I made it to one of these gigs that I could provide a little more excitement and bring something to the tables that these guys just don’t have……Belle appeal. :cool: It may not be able to be aired on the Family Channel but it just may liven the crowd up a bit, perhaps even get a little "rise" out of Jonathan Little!
The final table was exciting. At times long and drawn out but exciting none-the-less considering the cameras, the media and once it was down to heads-up…the cold cash prize sitting on the table. Most of the big guys, those favored to win the tourney were knocked out quite early leaving only Barry Greenstein the only familiar face at the final table. Hopeful spectators stood in line outside the Grand Ballroom, lining up early in the afternoon in hopes of being given 1/100 WPT numbered poker chips which was not only a souvenir but your ticket to be a part of the taping for the WPT final table.
Barry Greenstein paced the hallway, his book “Ace on the River” in hand. This book Barry carries with him to all final tables he plays at. If a player busts him out, he signs the book on the spot and gives it to the player that busted him. It’s Barry’s trademark. He’s a seasoned player, hard to compare him with the two 19 year old players he is up against in the final 6 TV table. He looked calm, stopping to greet the spectators and sign a few autographs. He showed a great deal of class and maturity, whereas his counterparts did not make an appearance until the cameras were rolling. I had to remind myself that those kids playing against him…..they plan on living the dream with the money that is at stake. But Barry…..he donates 100% of his net tournament winnings to children’s charities. He truly loves the game, not the money.
At 3 pm the numbers were being called to seat the spectators, it took almost an hour before everyone was seated. Inside, the set-up was really cool. The final table, surrounded by cameras, multiple TV screens showing promo ads for WPT and Fallsview Casino, 4 widescreen TV’s for spectator views of the action, camera crew everywhere not to mention casino staff and security. Spectators were seated 6 rows deep (the first 2 rows of each side reserved for friends and family of the players) on three sides of the table, the rear view (behind the dealer) being reserved for media.
The camera crew spent the first 20 minutes filming audience applause for editing purposes and then getting acquainted with those in the reserved seating, knowing where to shoot when players are at a showdown. To the right of the table was the cheering squad for Jonathan Little who I was rooting for myself. 19 years old, his face still showing the pimples of puberty but his persona at the table is comparable to the pros. If he’s nervous he doesn’t show it. He’s inexperienced at this level of play but you would have no idea. He’s emotionless at the table and the players have nothing to go on if they are relying on expression to tell his game. Not only that, but he’s from Florida which put him at the top of my fav’s list for this game.
The centre section, facing the table dead on was clearly a Dave Cloutier fan section. A Canadian from Brampton, this was his first WPT tourney and being the closest in geographic nature to Niagara he had the most supporters to cheer him on (although I have to say that in my experience with them for the 12+ hours of taping they were the most annoying, rude, obnoxious people there). I just couldn’t find it in me to root for him even though he was the only Canadian remaining.
To the left of the table sat the friends, family and fans of Scott Clements. He is another of my favorites aside from the fact he is married to a bimbo blonde and has a cocky “found money” attitude. He’s cute though and fun to watch. I was hoping heads-up would be between him and Jonathan and to my liking, so it was. The remaining three players had their fans disbursed throughout the sections, their fan base just a little more low key.
Just past 4pm the Casino shift manager Jason March announced “Shuffle up and deal” and the game had begun. The expected announcer for WPT was not there for some reason and the CSM was left to announce the hands and plays the players made. Behind the dealer and to the right was the stage set for the WPT commentators Mike Sexton and Vincent Van Patten. You can tell Mike is both a poker player and a TV persona as he sat behind the desk staring into the camera for hours on end. Had anyone not known any better you would have sworn he was taken directly from the wax museum atop Clifton Hill and placed there. He moved once or twice during the break to visit the men’s room, other than that he didn’t blink. You could hear him commentating into the camera during play but he was quite stoic.
Vincent did not seem impressed by the slow-playing of the final table. He looked tired and seemed to be having some back trouble although by hour 8 most people in the room seemed to have the same problem. There was another young player, Kofi Farkye at the final table. I was upset he made the money landing 5th place with $218,000, here’s the story with this guy…..
All these poker players are always asked, “What handle do/did you play under when participating in online play?” Kofi, when asked this by CardPlayer staff during an interview declined to answer. Odd considering most players are more than happy to disclose their online usernames. Turns out, while playing the final table event the day prior to the final six taping, it came out that Kofi used to play under the name “redsoxsox” on Pokerstars. Jeff Garza, who was playing at the final table with Kofi recognizes the name as he is a Pokerstars player as well. Turns out Jeff had played an online tourney with “redsoxsox” and noticed what appeared to be some collusion between him and another player. A second $100 buy-in tourney, Jeff noticed the same two players doing the same thing so he reported it to Pokerstars. An investigation led to “redsoxsox” being banned for life, his many online tournament wins in 2006 likely a result of crooked play. Ironic that both anonymous players ended up playing against one another at this final table! Unfortunately Jeff did not get the revenge he was looking for and did not make he final table of 6 for the WPT taping.
I believe it was about 11pm before Barry was knocked out by Dave Cloutier. He autographed his book for Dave, shook hads with the remaining players and quietly left the set. A man of class, without a doubt. Finally, after 3 hours of slow playing their hands Dave was busted out and at about 1:30am we were heads up. The game was paused while the Director and Shift Managers for Fallsview Casino did the taped money presentation, brining just over 1.3 million dollars in 3 briefcases to the table. The money was dumped, the bracelet and trophy placed alongside the neatly wrapped 100 dollar bills and the game was back in action with Clements owning double the chip stack over Little.
On the 14th hand of heads-up play (271 hands total and breaking the record for most WPT final table hand count) Little raised to $180,000 from the button. Clements called. The flop came, both players checked. On the turn Clements checked, Little bet $250,00 which was met by a raise from Clements to $550,000 at which point Little called all-in. Everyone stood, who was it going to be? Clements showed trip five’s and ithout a card to better Little’s hand the WPT title went to Scott Clements. It was a great game, something I thought really neat to be a part of.
Afterwards there were several interviews and then out came the champagne toast with the Casino CSM’s and WPT Producers. Quite a thrill to be there but I have to say, I couldn’t wait to get home in my bed. I think it’s time to quit my job and become a poker player. Let’s face it, no one gets rich working on an hourly wage! I could just imagine what the commentators would have to say about Belle, the escort. The mom of four, still at it, hustling men for money at the poker tables.:rolleyes: Boy would they have a field day with that one.
The one thing this tournament was lacking was entertainment. They need some comic relief in there to break the tension. I think though, if I made it to one of these gigs that I could provide a little more excitement and bring something to the tables that these guys just don’t have……Belle appeal. :cool: It may not be able to be aired on the Family Channel but it just may liven the crowd up a bit, perhaps even get a little "rise" out of Jonathan Little!
So, you ask what's up with the changes?
I know, it's a lot of effort for some to view my blog. First registering, then confirming the email and so forth. I know it's a real pain in the ass and I really didn't want to have it this way but I had no other choice. Why? Here goes:
When I first started using the review boards, I realized quickly what a great tool they were to openly discuss the business. Not just the act of sex but everything that comes with the encounter itself. Even more so, I realized just how much people wanted an outlet to discuss their thoughts as well. Over the first year of escorting I would spend alot of my time posting about my experiences, how I related to them and just what I got back from the business. This communication soon led to the start of my blog.
I needed to feel open and be honest about what the industry is like, from an Sp's perspective. I was always being asked about why I chose to do what I do, what the protocols are and basically my thoughts on most everything an SP would encounter. My blog began with the thoughts of having an open place to discuss these things. People wanted my opinion, I needed someone to care about what I thought. From there my blog grew into something even more personal.
A year later and I was opening up the other side of Belle. My life. Being a mother, holding another full-time job, my vacations, my life....it all soon became a part of my blog. I didn't intend for it to be that way, but through its natural course that is what it had become. Then, others started sharing their lives too. Their fears, their insecurities, their desires, their thoughts and opinions. It soon became a conversation. Not me, talking to you but us, sharing our lives. You accepted me for my decisions in life, you praised me for the hard times I have oversome and picked me up when times had me down. My blog has been here for me, to have a place to go when I feel no one is there to listen. I write here and I know I will be heard, if even by one set of ears. Most of you have no idea who I am but Belle. I like that anonymity. I can write what I feel and you are here to listen.
Unfortunately, some found their way to my blog that didn't want to hear what I had to say. If they were people I didn't know, whose opinions didn't matter to me it would have been okay. Unfortunately it was family and for the past 2 months have made things a little difficult for me. I felt railroaded, finding myself being questioned about Belle and the things I/She has written here. I missed the anonymity. You never judged me by the things I write. They are as they are, words floating about this cyberworld being written from someone about as lost as any other soul trying to find their way. Before long it was demeaning emails and hurtful insults. I hid, because I felt I had to hide. I stopped posting. I stopped escorting. I stopped the emails. I stopped smiling.
It wasn't long before I began feeling alone. I don't get close to people, even when I know peope are there for me. I don't open up to others, hell....I don't even open up to myself! I have never allowed myself to question life. Who am I? Where do I want to be in life? What are my goals? My blog has evolved into a place for me to contemplate life, to open up and feel safe doing so. I've never had that and I really missed not having that the past few months.
So, that being said, here I am. I decided I am not going to hide anymore. This is me. I'm not always nice nor am I always going to say things that everyone wants to hear. But my blog isn't for them, or even you. It is for me. Thanks for hanging around, keeping the posts going, coming back from time to time to see what's up and taking the time to register and log-in to view my blog. I know these features won't stop those I don't want coming around from coming around but by having to register an email adress I am hoping it will make them think twice. Thanks again.
Belle
When I first started using the review boards, I realized quickly what a great tool they were to openly discuss the business. Not just the act of sex but everything that comes with the encounter itself. Even more so, I realized just how much people wanted an outlet to discuss their thoughts as well. Over the first year of escorting I would spend alot of my time posting about my experiences, how I related to them and just what I got back from the business. This communication soon led to the start of my blog.
I needed to feel open and be honest about what the industry is like, from an Sp's perspective. I was always being asked about why I chose to do what I do, what the protocols are and basically my thoughts on most everything an SP would encounter. My blog began with the thoughts of having an open place to discuss these things. People wanted my opinion, I needed someone to care about what I thought. From there my blog grew into something even more personal.
A year later and I was opening up the other side of Belle. My life. Being a mother, holding another full-time job, my vacations, my life....it all soon became a part of my blog. I didn't intend for it to be that way, but through its natural course that is what it had become. Then, others started sharing their lives too. Their fears, their insecurities, their desires, their thoughts and opinions. It soon became a conversation. Not me, talking to you but us, sharing our lives. You accepted me for my decisions in life, you praised me for the hard times I have oversome and picked me up when times had me down. My blog has been here for me, to have a place to go when I feel no one is there to listen. I write here and I know I will be heard, if even by one set of ears. Most of you have no idea who I am but Belle. I like that anonymity. I can write what I feel and you are here to listen.
Unfortunately, some found their way to my blog that didn't want to hear what I had to say. If they were people I didn't know, whose opinions didn't matter to me it would have been okay. Unfortunately it was family and for the past 2 months have made things a little difficult for me. I felt railroaded, finding myself being questioned about Belle and the things I/She has written here. I missed the anonymity. You never judged me by the things I write. They are as they are, words floating about this cyberworld being written from someone about as lost as any other soul trying to find their way. Before long it was demeaning emails and hurtful insults. I hid, because I felt I had to hide. I stopped posting. I stopped escorting. I stopped the emails. I stopped smiling.
It wasn't long before I began feeling alone. I don't get close to people, even when I know peope are there for me. I don't open up to others, hell....I don't even open up to myself! I have never allowed myself to question life. Who am I? Where do I want to be in life? What are my goals? My blog has evolved into a place for me to contemplate life, to open up and feel safe doing so. I've never had that and I really missed not having that the past few months.
So, that being said, here I am. I decided I am not going to hide anymore. This is me. I'm not always nice nor am I always going to say things that everyone wants to hear. But my blog isn't for them, or even you. It is for me. Thanks for hanging around, keeping the posts going, coming back from time to time to see what's up and taking the time to register and log-in to view my blog. I know these features won't stop those I don't want coming around from coming around but by having to register an email adress I am hoping it will make them think twice. Thanks again.
Belle
F*Cups
F*Cups????
No, I don’t mean F*ck ups but F*Cups, as in breast size. Think you can go from “A”cups to “F”cups by eating cookies? Maybe not, but the Japanese seem to think so. They are marketing a box of cookies that apparently contains the natural breast enlarging herb Pueraria Mirifica. Supposedly, by eating just two a day will make your breasts bigger! Of course, they don’t mention how many days you need to eat them to gain a voluptuous chest but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to give them a try since they are only 68.8 calories per cookie. Yes, I have my very own box of these ( a sweet, touching gift from a dear friend) so I figured I would do some reading up on them, as I munched down a few.
The first few internet sites I came across made me feel quite lucky to own my very own box of F*Cups since it seems most people are screaming for them and frustrated that they cannot get their hands on a box outside of Japan. I started thinking of a marketing plan, maybe I could make a lot of money importing these cookies then selling them on ebay! Then I decided having my very own set of “F” cups are priceless, I should keep my secret source all to myself, who knows the smuggling practices that were put into operation just to get these fine cookies to my Canadian doorstep.
The next few sites were all about mocking this seemingly obvious scam. How dare they? Who is to say these things don’t work as they promise? I figured the skeptics are likely the same “A” cup people who cannot get a box of their own. If they had the same importer/smuggler that I have a connection with, I’m sure they’d have gluttonized (not sure if that’s a word but it seemed to fit) their box by now. Me, I think these things can’t be rushed. So I savour every bite as I carry on with my internet research, gloating in the fact that these people are just jealous.
Next I read about these people that call themselves things like Doctors, Herbologists and Pharmaceutists who claim there is no way a cookie, with any ingredient could possibly increase a woman’s bust size. Well, is that so, oh smart people with lots of letters after your names? Well, did it ever occur to you that this “Pueraria Mirifica happens to be found in Thailand and Mayanmar, places you’ve probably never heard of? And besides, Mirifica means miracle and science just doesn’t explain miracles, now does it? Now I did find the website of one doctor by the name of Dr. Garry Gordon who has done on-the-ground research right in Thailand studying this herb and he supports their claim to a voluptuous cookie bosom so I think he is more credible than the other skeptical so-called doctors with lots of letter after their names!
It just goes to show you, my friends that the internet is a powerful tool in researching something you need definitive answers for. I could have simply laughed at the box and it away and then posted on some anonymous board about just how silly this ploy is……but I did my research. Just goes to show you…..don’t believe everything you read!
No, I don’t mean F*ck ups but F*Cups, as in breast size. Think you can go from “A”cups to “F”cups by eating cookies? Maybe not, but the Japanese seem to think so. They are marketing a box of cookies that apparently contains the natural breast enlarging herb Pueraria Mirifica. Supposedly, by eating just two a day will make your breasts bigger! Of course, they don’t mention how many days you need to eat them to gain a voluptuous chest but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to give them a try since they are only 68.8 calories per cookie. Yes, I have my very own box of these ( a sweet, touching gift from a dear friend) so I figured I would do some reading up on them, as I munched down a few.
The first few internet sites I came across made me feel quite lucky to own my very own box of F*Cups since it seems most people are screaming for them and frustrated that they cannot get their hands on a box outside of Japan. I started thinking of a marketing plan, maybe I could make a lot of money importing these cookies then selling them on ebay! Then I decided having my very own set of “F” cups are priceless, I should keep my secret source all to myself, who knows the smuggling practices that were put into operation just to get these fine cookies to my Canadian doorstep.
The next few sites were all about mocking this seemingly obvious scam. How dare they? Who is to say these things don’t work as they promise? I figured the skeptics are likely the same “A” cup people who cannot get a box of their own. If they had the same importer/smuggler that I have a connection with, I’m sure they’d have gluttonized (not sure if that’s a word but it seemed to fit) their box by now. Me, I think these things can’t be rushed. So I savour every bite as I carry on with my internet research, gloating in the fact that these people are just jealous.
Next I read about these people that call themselves things like Doctors, Herbologists and Pharmaceutists who claim there is no way a cookie, with any ingredient could possibly increase a woman’s bust size. Well, is that so, oh smart people with lots of letters after your names? Well, did it ever occur to you that this “Pueraria Mirifica happens to be found in Thailand and Mayanmar, places you’ve probably never heard of? And besides, Mirifica means miracle and science just doesn’t explain miracles, now does it? Now I did find the website of one doctor by the name of Dr. Garry Gordon who has done on-the-ground research right in Thailand studying this herb and he supports their claim to a voluptuous cookie bosom so I think he is more credible than the other skeptical so-called doctors with lots of letter after their names!
It just goes to show you, my friends that the internet is a powerful tool in researching something you need definitive answers for. I could have simply laughed at the box and it away and then posted on some anonymous board about just how silly this ploy is……but I did my research. Just goes to show you…..don’t believe everything you read!
I need your prayers tonight
I have had a cold for the past week and a half. No, I'm not asking for prayers to heal a stubborn cough. This morning I woke with a coughing spell and tried to sit up to get my breath. As I was doing so I coughed and heard a "crunch" sound. Since then I haven't been able to move my neck. Not having any motivation to try and fight it, I wasted most the day away in bed aside from a couple hot baths. Finally, kids home and fed I decided to walk to the hospital (I hate driving when I'm at my best, certainly not going to happen in the shape I am in).
I get there and the waiting room is packed. I'm tired, the long walk (okay, only 25 mins but when each step is a cautious one to not disturb my neck it's a long walk) had me in a tense mood and to top it off, as I am waiting to be checked in, I look to my right and there is my mother. She doesn't live in Niagara so I know for her to be here there is something likely wrong with a family member. I turn to look down the hallway and there is my grandmother. I have never seen her look so old.
My Nana. My hero, my idol. And here she was fighting for her breath looking so terribly ill. It broke my heart. I stepped out of line and sat with her in the waiting room. Her doctor had sent her here to be admitted, her emphysema has taken over and she can no longer breathe for herself without a terrible struggle. Her food won't stay down, her heart is tired and she sat there trembling. We had known this was coming, just 2 months ago we were here with her having many tests done and nothing coming back positive. She looked so frail, my nana has never appeared this way. I was angered that not only is the most wonderful giving person on this earth struggling just to breathe but that my family is so damn ignorant to not have called me to tell me she was this ill.
I despise my mother for doing the unforgiveable to me and for that I know we will never again have a relationship with one another. But I can be in the same room with her, be civil and put aside our differences at a time like this. To think that she would be so selfish to not have called me, or atleast have another family member call me, was sickening. It is hard to believe that just one short year ago our family was so close. I miss that.
My apologies for rambling, tonight you are shoulder to lean on. I am waiting for my sitter, then I will be back at my Nana's side. Please send your prayers and best wishes her way. This world will lose its most brightest light if we lose my Nana. Thanks for listening.
I get there and the waiting room is packed. I'm tired, the long walk (okay, only 25 mins but when each step is a cautious one to not disturb my neck it's a long walk) had me in a tense mood and to top it off, as I am waiting to be checked in, I look to my right and there is my mother. She doesn't live in Niagara so I know for her to be here there is something likely wrong with a family member. I turn to look down the hallway and there is my grandmother. I have never seen her look so old.
My Nana. My hero, my idol. And here she was fighting for her breath looking so terribly ill. It broke my heart. I stepped out of line and sat with her in the waiting room. Her doctor had sent her here to be admitted, her emphysema has taken over and she can no longer breathe for herself without a terrible struggle. Her food won't stay down, her heart is tired and she sat there trembling. We had known this was coming, just 2 months ago we were here with her having many tests done and nothing coming back positive. She looked so frail, my nana has never appeared this way. I was angered that not only is the most wonderful giving person on this earth struggling just to breathe but that my family is so damn ignorant to not have called me to tell me she was this ill.
I despise my mother for doing the unforgiveable to me and for that I know we will never again have a relationship with one another. But I can be in the same room with her, be civil and put aside our differences at a time like this. To think that she would be so selfish to not have called me, or atleast have another family member call me, was sickening. It is hard to believe that just one short year ago our family was so close. I miss that.
My apologies for rambling, tonight you are shoulder to lean on. I am waiting for my sitter, then I will be back at my Nana's side. Please send your prayers and best wishes her way. This world will lose its most brightest light if we lose my Nana. Thanks for listening.
Am I psychic...or just psychotic?
Ever have a premonition? Something you "Saw" happen before it actually happened? I can't say I have, but I can't shake this feeling I have had all day. It started sometime this afternoon and it is now just past 4am and I just can''t shake it. I can't pinpoint exactly what my gut is telling me but it's a horrible doom-like feeling, like something really terrible is going to happen. I've never felt something like this before and if I didn't feel it prior to 9/11 then I would have to say I'm leaning more towards psychotic.
While I would love to hear you all say no to the following question, that I am just being silly so as to ease my stomach I am wondering if anyone out there has ever had a true premonition or psychic experience? While we're on the topic, what about seeing ghosts or any other similar phenomenon? Just curious to hear of your experiences or thoughts on the subject.
While I would love to hear you all say no to the following question, that I am just being silly so as to ease my stomach I am wondering if anyone out there has ever had a true premonition or psychic experience? While we're on the topic, what about seeing ghosts or any other similar phenomenon? Just curious to hear of your experiences or thoughts on the subject.
The evolution theory.....I now believe!
I am not one to argue the age old question "where did we come from", but I do like this theory. I have been reading a book, a quite interesting read infact. A little off topic to my post but from where I found my ancestors so I must talk about the book a minute. "The world without us" by Alan Weisman. Based on not so much his theory but substantiated facts given to him by ecologists, scientists, biologists, paleontologists and even rabbis about what our world would be like if humans were wiped from the earth. In this equation, one primatologist Jane Goodall had been studying chimpanzees, more specifically, bonobos.
What caught my attention and heralded my latest discovery of where I came from was learning that bonobos are not aggressive in nature. Like chimps, they are territorial yet with bonobos, they are not known to kill within their primative colonies. They have a peaceful nature and here's what caught my attention: a predilection for playful sex with multiple partners! Not only that, but they do not form lasting relationships with their sexual partners.....now I know who's my daddy! Their DNA is closer to a human's than it is to a gorilla, their gentetic make-up is 98% the same as us homo-sapiens. Oh, did I mention that the females are considered to have the higher social status? Must be my ancestors!
I had to "google" bonobos and learn more of my ancestry and found that we also share a preference for tribadism. Never heard it referred to as this before but if you want to know what I am talking about, you will have to google the term for yourself! Thankfully though we have evolved from the bonobos practice of incest, I suppose every family history has it's own set of skeletons. Go figure. I am reading a book about life after we have come and gone and I end up learning about my ancestry long before we even existed!
Okay, I don't really believe I am a direct decendent of the bonobo but I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the evolution theory until reading this book. Sure it's grand to think that we were put on this earth as part of some wonderous plan by some unearthly God. It's a beautiful story; the heavens, the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve. Much more a promising thought than "we evolved from apes". But what if it were as simple as that? What if? Things that make you go hmmm.
What caught my attention and heralded my latest discovery of where I came from was learning that bonobos are not aggressive in nature. Like chimps, they are territorial yet with bonobos, they are not known to kill within their primative colonies. They have a peaceful nature and here's what caught my attention: a predilection for playful sex with multiple partners! Not only that, but they do not form lasting relationships with their sexual partners.....now I know who's my daddy! Their DNA is closer to a human's than it is to a gorilla, their gentetic make-up is 98% the same as us homo-sapiens. Oh, did I mention that the females are considered to have the higher social status? Must be my ancestors!
I had to "google" bonobos and learn more of my ancestry and found that we also share a preference for tribadism. Never heard it referred to as this before but if you want to know what I am talking about, you will have to google the term for yourself! Thankfully though we have evolved from the bonobos practice of incest, I suppose every family history has it's own set of skeletons. Go figure. I am reading a book about life after we have come and gone and I end up learning about my ancestry long before we even existed!
Okay, I don't really believe I am a direct decendent of the bonobo but I can honestly say I have never seriously considered the evolution theory until reading this book. Sure it's grand to think that we were put on this earth as part of some wonderous plan by some unearthly God. It's a beautiful story; the heavens, the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve. Much more a promising thought than "we evolved from apes". But what if it were as simple as that? What if? Things that make you go hmmm.
Do we EVER learn?
It's a crossroads, I know. I've been here for some time now but it's deciding which path that makes the journey so long. I never take the easy road, I like the challenge but this time, maybe the reward at the end of the challenge isn't worth the fight. Maybe I am fighting for something I can never have. Maybe I just need to let go. The reward looks good, it makes sense and I know what it can give me in my life. The other path.....I can't see where it leads. I don't know what the reward is, or even if there is one. Yet maybe, if I just take a few steps, it will get easier. It's the maybe part that scares the hell out of me. I am not one to take chances, but this time I think the sure path has me at a road block and I am being given no choice but to walk the road less travelled. I will do it, not because I want to but because I have no other choice. I am just hoping I make it to the other side.
Confused? Me too. Bare with me. The program you have been watching will return to its regularly scheduled programming soon. ;)
Confused? Me too. Bare with me. The program you have been watching will return to its regularly scheduled programming soon. ;)
The kids are off!
I should be happy right? I mean, this is the day all parents look forward to. No pitter patter of little feet under you while you're trying to clean the house. No squeaky voices demanding something to eat, something to drink, something...anything to take your attention away from whatever it is you are trying to do so they can have your undivided attention. Yes, I should be savouring the moment I hear the school bus squeal to a stop and watch as the Power Ranger and Tinkerbelle backpacks disappear behind the closing school bus doors. I should, but I just can't.
I was up until 5am this morning. Not because I had to work. No, I got off early to be able to get a good nights sleep. Go figure. I am now a mother of a highschool child. It didn't take long for her to take me back to a time when I entered highschool myself. The jitters, the upset stomach, the nerves of the first day all caught up with her. I did my best to prepare her for the transition. The past week we spent two days at the school travelling from class to class, checking out the gym, the library, the cafeteria and testing the lock combination for her locker about one hundred times. The routine was set and I know it did give her some ease. Until last night at about 11pm when she felt sick.
I remembered that feeling, she is so alike her mother. Worrying about how to wear her hair, if she will know anyone in her classes, who to hang with at lunch. She even called her girlfriends to ask if anyone was using the same type binders I had bought her! We parents may call it trivial but I know to her it is the difference between eating in the cafeteria with all the cool kids or packing a brown bag lunch to eat underneath the back stairwell. My heart hurt for her because I knew there was nothing I could do to comfort her. Like me, she does not accept change well and the fear of the unknown can seem overwhelming.
I wanted to drive her in this morning. I knew it wasn't an option she would consider but I put the offer out there anyways. I am the mommy, she is my baby. I just wanted to hold her hand, walk her from class to class and sit with her at lunch so she didn't feel alone. No matter how big and tough our teens pretend to be, they are still kids and the world can be a big scary place for them to be....and a big scary place for us to send them.
I had to make the trip to all three schools today to let the principals know about our Disney vacation next week. Sure, I could have made phone calls but being the mom that I am I had to go check things out on the first day. If I didn't, I would have missed the grade 11 "kid" in the front office registering for classes who was riddled in tatts, his front bangs draped across his forehead and over his left eye which he annoyingly fiddled with the entire 10 minutes it took him to register. I would have also missed the group of teens handing out on the sidewalk, couples arm in arm kissing, smoking and cursing. To think when I was that age it looked so cool. Cute highschool girls in their much-too-short uniform skirts talking like truckers as a cloud of smoke circles around them. And I had to drive away, leaving my daughter to a whole new world. It is in the next four years she spends here that she will grow into a young woman and I cannot be there to protect her. It is so hard to let her go.
I was glad I made her school my first stop. Walking into the smaller elementary schools I felt more at ease. Smaller hallways, locks on the entrance doors and teachers roaming the hallways being fully aware of me as I walked up to the office door. My kids are safe here. They are led by their teachers to the gym, the library and the playground. I may not be there to hold their hand but atleast someone is. I caught a glimpse of my five year old as her class was walking away in the opposite direction. She did not see me, but I got to see that she was happy walking alongside her best friend. She is okay, so I am okay. I will hold on to that feeling for today as I anxiously await my teen whose bus will be pulling up any minute. I hope to see a smile as she runs up the driveway to tell me of all the things that went good for her today. I can only hope.
I was up until 5am this morning. Not because I had to work. No, I got off early to be able to get a good nights sleep. Go figure. I am now a mother of a highschool child. It didn't take long for her to take me back to a time when I entered highschool myself. The jitters, the upset stomach, the nerves of the first day all caught up with her. I did my best to prepare her for the transition. The past week we spent two days at the school travelling from class to class, checking out the gym, the library, the cafeteria and testing the lock combination for her locker about one hundred times. The routine was set and I know it did give her some ease. Until last night at about 11pm when she felt sick.
I remembered that feeling, she is so alike her mother. Worrying about how to wear her hair, if she will know anyone in her classes, who to hang with at lunch. She even called her girlfriends to ask if anyone was using the same type binders I had bought her! We parents may call it trivial but I know to her it is the difference between eating in the cafeteria with all the cool kids or packing a brown bag lunch to eat underneath the back stairwell. My heart hurt for her because I knew there was nothing I could do to comfort her. Like me, she does not accept change well and the fear of the unknown can seem overwhelming.
I wanted to drive her in this morning. I knew it wasn't an option she would consider but I put the offer out there anyways. I am the mommy, she is my baby. I just wanted to hold her hand, walk her from class to class and sit with her at lunch so she didn't feel alone. No matter how big and tough our teens pretend to be, they are still kids and the world can be a big scary place for them to be....and a big scary place for us to send them.
I had to make the trip to all three schools today to let the principals know about our Disney vacation next week. Sure, I could have made phone calls but being the mom that I am I had to go check things out on the first day. If I didn't, I would have missed the grade 11 "kid" in the front office registering for classes who was riddled in tatts, his front bangs draped across his forehead and over his left eye which he annoyingly fiddled with the entire 10 minutes it took him to register. I would have also missed the group of teens handing out on the sidewalk, couples arm in arm kissing, smoking and cursing. To think when I was that age it looked so cool. Cute highschool girls in their much-too-short uniform skirts talking like truckers as a cloud of smoke circles around them. And I had to drive away, leaving my daughter to a whole new world. It is in the next four years she spends here that she will grow into a young woman and I cannot be there to protect her. It is so hard to let her go.
I was glad I made her school my first stop. Walking into the smaller elementary schools I felt more at ease. Smaller hallways, locks on the entrance doors and teachers roaming the hallways being fully aware of me as I walked up to the office door. My kids are safe here. They are led by their teachers to the gym, the library and the playground. I may not be there to hold their hand but atleast someone is. I caught a glimpse of my five year old as her class was walking away in the opposite direction. She did not see me, but I got to see that she was happy walking alongside her best friend. She is okay, so I am okay. I will hold on to that feeling for today as I anxiously await my teen whose bus will be pulling up any minute. I hope to see a smile as she runs up the driveway to tell me of all the things that went good for her today. I can only hope.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Sexual deprivation....beware!
I've finally figured it out! It's not depression I am going through, nor a bout of simply feeling sorry for myself. No, what I am experiencing is sex withdrawl. Yes, apparently it is running rampid in the Niagara Region as people just aren't getting enough of it. It's most commonly seen in clients when thier favorite SP takes a hiatus, my case being quite rare in that I am the SP suffering sexual withdrawl symptoms. I've heard about this disease and it's quite traumatic.
Several clients of mine have come to me displaying the same characteristics in the past. Sleeplessness, mental cloudiness, irritability, restlessness all being primary but severe cases are accompanied with headaches (from constantly dwelling on the sex you're not having), unusual dreams of motels in obscure locations, obsessive/compulsive sexual thoughts involving most everyone around you and from time to time a case will present itself as Tourettes where sexual innuendoes are voiced inappropriately or even worse....one begins to act on those sexual compulsions like grabbing a stranger and thrusting oneself upon them. (As a side note....if this ever happens to you and the woman throwing herself at you is a 5'7" red head just oblige her....she's ill and has no control over her actions).
So, what is one to do who suffers from this condition? Is there a cure, even a home remedy to supress the symptoms? I used to dread turning 30. The thought of being "thirty-something" terified the hell out of me. When I was twenty-something, thirty was old! But I can honestly say I did not have this sexual appetiete then that I do now. I would listen often to gents who dabble in the hobby from time to time. Most are unable to frequent the company of an escort as often as they would like be it for reasons of money, family or time and quite often would say that the duration between visits are so hard because the hobby is addicting. I now understand what they meant. It's not much different from my perpective either. Giving up sex AND smoking was a little too much to ask of myself so one of them has to give. Smoking is bad for my health, sex on the other hand.......
Several clients of mine have come to me displaying the same characteristics in the past. Sleeplessness, mental cloudiness, irritability, restlessness all being primary but severe cases are accompanied with headaches (from constantly dwelling on the sex you're not having), unusual dreams of motels in obscure locations, obsessive/compulsive sexual thoughts involving most everyone around you and from time to time a case will present itself as Tourettes where sexual innuendoes are voiced inappropriately or even worse....one begins to act on those sexual compulsions like grabbing a stranger and thrusting oneself upon them. (As a side note....if this ever happens to you and the woman throwing herself at you is a 5'7" red head just oblige her....she's ill and has no control over her actions).
So, what is one to do who suffers from this condition? Is there a cure, even a home remedy to supress the symptoms? I used to dread turning 30. The thought of being "thirty-something" terified the hell out of me. When I was twenty-something, thirty was old! But I can honestly say I did not have this sexual appetiete then that I do now. I would listen often to gents who dabble in the hobby from time to time. Most are unable to frequent the company of an escort as often as they would like be it for reasons of money, family or time and quite often would say that the duration between visits are so hard because the hobby is addicting. I now understand what they meant. It's not much different from my perpective either. Giving up sex AND smoking was a little too much to ask of myself so one of them has to give. Smoking is bad for my health, sex on the other hand.......
back to school...and other random musings
Have any of you realized that there is just 1 week left before kids hit the books? Or have you all realized it and I am the only one that is pulling her head out of her ass wondering where the summer went? This week was crazy getting my kids ready. Books, pencils, erasers, calculators (yes a requirement now, remember the days of sneaking them into class? Gawd that made me sound old ) and for my 13 year old......her high school uniform. I tell ya, working for a living sucks.... as does the pay.
It didn't take long to remind myself of what it is like to bargain shop, cut coupons and plan ahead for costly occasions and school is no exception! Not that I have ever been one to spend money frivilously, but it was kinda nice to not spend the better part of my days balancing a chequebook. If something was needed, I bought it...that day. No crunching the numbers by giving up the Gilette triple blade razors and going with disposables so the kids could eat pizza once a week for the month. While I will never forget my days of welfare and food banks, I will also never forget my days of spur of the moment shopping...... just because I could. All in all I will always be thankful for things I never had and things I have no more. It's what keeps me driven, keeps me grounded and gives balance to my life. What am I saying......working for a living sucks, no matter how I look at it!
So, the oldest of mine has to adjust to the Catholic uniform thing now. Stop right there, this is my daughter okay? She's not impressed by the shirt being tucked in nor the polishable black shoes that are mandatory. 2 hours were spent in the school clothing shop. She whined, I smiled. Why is it us mother's take such pleasure in our teenager's pain? Oh yes, now I remember. Perhaps because any time we give them crap about something we hear the same old "I don't care" routine. I am pleased to see there is something that she cares about. Whine away oh hormonal one, whine away.
My house is still a disaster. Well, my kitchen anyways. It's been two months and I can't get hold of my electrician. There is not another step I can take without having the wiring completed. Although I took matters in my own hands because I was sick of trying to maneuver around the room. I have two doorways in the kitchen, one I needed to close off to make the kitchen more functional. Promises were made to get it done many months ago and it's still not done so I fixed the problem myself. No, I don't know how to build a wall but I bought a sheet of drywall and put it over the doorway to cover it up and put my fridge in front of it for now. Atleast I can access all of my cabinets now without a ladder and entering my kitchen no longer runs the risk of a slab of granite shanking your side. It's only been almost 6 moths I've been working on this damn room!
Work is good, it's my place for mental relief. I need to work 8 hours just to keep my sanity some days. I don't have to think about anything really and that is a blessing. The worst time for me is as I'm laying in bed. I think too much and end up waking more tired than when I layed down. So long as my plan to never sleep and work 22 hours of the day holds up I should be just fine. Any other suggestions? Between doctors, kids, school, smoking and the Homers of the world I really do feel at times that I am losing my mind. Surely I will have to sleep sometime.
I have a few entries coming up, notably the fact that Belle is now 2 and also an interesting commentary about another blog I recently stumbled across. It seems I am not the only blogger out there just trying to get through the journey unscathed. Her writing was quite interesting and hopefully I will get to posting about it in the next day or two. As for right now, I am off to bed. Not to sleep, no, that seldom happens. I will undress, slip under my duvet, group my kingsized down-filled pillow into my stomach and I will think. I will tell myself to stop it, that I need to sleep but without a doubt, and hour from the time I lay my head I will still be there fighting to get some shuteye. Once I do drift off I will have some outrageous dream (surely due to the random thoughts before drifting off) then wake up unsettled. And so it goes.
It didn't take long to remind myself of what it is like to bargain shop, cut coupons and plan ahead for costly occasions and school is no exception! Not that I have ever been one to spend money frivilously, but it was kinda nice to not spend the better part of my days balancing a chequebook. If something was needed, I bought it...that day. No crunching the numbers by giving up the Gilette triple blade razors and going with disposables so the kids could eat pizza once a week for the month. While I will never forget my days of welfare and food banks, I will also never forget my days of spur of the moment shopping...... just because I could. All in all I will always be thankful for things I never had and things I have no more. It's what keeps me driven, keeps me grounded and gives balance to my life. What am I saying......working for a living sucks, no matter how I look at it!
So, the oldest of mine has to adjust to the Catholic uniform thing now. Stop right there, this is my daughter okay? She's not impressed by the shirt being tucked in nor the polishable black shoes that are mandatory. 2 hours were spent in the school clothing shop. She whined, I smiled. Why is it us mother's take such pleasure in our teenager's pain? Oh yes, now I remember. Perhaps because any time we give them crap about something we hear the same old "I don't care" routine. I am pleased to see there is something that she cares about. Whine away oh hormonal one, whine away.
My house is still a disaster. Well, my kitchen anyways. It's been two months and I can't get hold of my electrician. There is not another step I can take without having the wiring completed. Although I took matters in my own hands because I was sick of trying to maneuver around the room. I have two doorways in the kitchen, one I needed to close off to make the kitchen more functional. Promises were made to get it done many months ago and it's still not done so I fixed the problem myself. No, I don't know how to build a wall but I bought a sheet of drywall and put it over the doorway to cover it up and put my fridge in front of it for now. Atleast I can access all of my cabinets now without a ladder and entering my kitchen no longer runs the risk of a slab of granite shanking your side. It's only been almost 6 moths I've been working on this damn room!
Work is good, it's my place for mental relief. I need to work 8 hours just to keep my sanity some days. I don't have to think about anything really and that is a blessing. The worst time for me is as I'm laying in bed. I think too much and end up waking more tired than when I layed down. So long as my plan to never sleep and work 22 hours of the day holds up I should be just fine. Any other suggestions? Between doctors, kids, school, smoking and the Homers of the world I really do feel at times that I am losing my mind. Surely I will have to sleep sometime.
I have a few entries coming up, notably the fact that Belle is now 2 and also an interesting commentary about another blog I recently stumbled across. It seems I am not the only blogger out there just trying to get through the journey unscathed. Her writing was quite interesting and hopefully I will get to posting about it in the next day or two. As for right now, I am off to bed. Not to sleep, no, that seldom happens. I will undress, slip under my duvet, group my kingsized down-filled pillow into my stomach and I will think. I will tell myself to stop it, that I need to sleep but without a doubt, and hour from the time I lay my head I will still be there fighting to get some shuteye. Once I do drift off I will have some outrageous dream (surely due to the random thoughts before drifting off) then wake up unsettled. And so it goes.
Meaningless sex
I have been venturing out with my writing, extending my possibilities to include some freelancing. While doing research for an article I came across a very interesting website dedicated to erotic writers. In the forum section the question was raised, “What are your thoughts on meaningless sex?”
Well, needless to say I had a few opinions on the topic. As I read through the replies, keeping in mind that this is an aspiring writer’s website I was appalled at the close-minded responses! The imagination of one’s mind is limitless, so why is it that time and time again when it comes to topics like this that are so intimate and personal, can writers not seem to delve a little deeper without becoming so defensive to answer in a tone that may step outside of what would be expected? Is that not what makes a great writer? To write so passionately that your readers are drawn into your world, where they feel a part of each letter you have typed? How are you able to do this if you cannot believe in what you write?
This, I suppose, is why I do not care for love stories. Quite frankly, they are boring and they certainly are not any more a part of reality than would be a story of two strangers meeting in a hotel room and having the most passionate sexual relationship. Okay, the latter may be a reality for some of us. But for some reason the typical love story that sells is all about beaches, blue skies, rose petals on the bed sheets and an “I love you” after sex. Anyways, back to the question of meaningless sex. Here are a few responses I read:
"Acting on the belief that sex is meaningless or that sex is just sex just might wreck your life, give you a life crisis you don't want, impact your life in ways you might not want, or just ruin you life."
"I understand the principle of meaningless sex but I'm not absolutely sure it can be applied universally without any pre-conditions."
"If I don't feel something for the person I'm not going to have sex with them. For the people that need attention get a dog and have some respect for yourself."
"Don't do it. It will leave you feeling even more lonely and empty."
"I cannot agree that for women there can be 'meaningless sex'. Even a hooker has some emotional involvement."
This one was the best:
"Sex with some one other than my husband? Trusting some one enough to get naked in front of them? Fumbling though foreplay wondering how hard is too hard for this particular cock? Wondering weather some of my little tricks are a bit too exotic and whether he's going to think I'm a slut because I know so much? Putting up with a lover that doesn't know what I want? NO THANKS!"
Of course, there were a few that did seem to “get it”. One even made a very valid point that if it was meaningless we wouldn’t bother to do it, therefore to some degree all sex has meaning. I suppose meaningless may be the wrong word to explain the type of sexual encounters in escorting but let me ask you…..“What does meaningless sex mean to you? Is it possible? Do you hold any emotional attachment to your casual sex partners, paid or not?”
Well, needless to say I had a few opinions on the topic. As I read through the replies, keeping in mind that this is an aspiring writer’s website I was appalled at the close-minded responses! The imagination of one’s mind is limitless, so why is it that time and time again when it comes to topics like this that are so intimate and personal, can writers not seem to delve a little deeper without becoming so defensive to answer in a tone that may step outside of what would be expected? Is that not what makes a great writer? To write so passionately that your readers are drawn into your world, where they feel a part of each letter you have typed? How are you able to do this if you cannot believe in what you write?
This, I suppose, is why I do not care for love stories. Quite frankly, they are boring and they certainly are not any more a part of reality than would be a story of two strangers meeting in a hotel room and having the most passionate sexual relationship. Okay, the latter may be a reality for some of us. But for some reason the typical love story that sells is all about beaches, blue skies, rose petals on the bed sheets and an “I love you” after sex. Anyways, back to the question of meaningless sex. Here are a few responses I read:
"Acting on the belief that sex is meaningless or that sex is just sex just might wreck your life, give you a life crisis you don't want, impact your life in ways you might not want, or just ruin you life."
"I understand the principle of meaningless sex but I'm not absolutely sure it can be applied universally without any pre-conditions."
"If I don't feel something for the person I'm not going to have sex with them. For the people that need attention get a dog and have some respect for yourself."
"Don't do it. It will leave you feeling even more lonely and empty."
"I cannot agree that for women there can be 'meaningless sex'. Even a hooker has some emotional involvement."
This one was the best:
"Sex with some one other than my husband? Trusting some one enough to get naked in front of them? Fumbling though foreplay wondering how hard is too hard for this particular cock? Wondering weather some of my little tricks are a bit too exotic and whether he's going to think I'm a slut because I know so much? Putting up with a lover that doesn't know what I want? NO THANKS!"
Of course, there were a few that did seem to “get it”. One even made a very valid point that if it was meaningless we wouldn’t bother to do it, therefore to some degree all sex has meaning. I suppose meaningless may be the wrong word to explain the type of sexual encounters in escorting but let me ask you…..“What does meaningless sex mean to you? Is it possible? Do you hold any emotional attachment to your casual sex partners, paid or not?”
Simple question: You or them?
I need some advice here. I know you have all found yourself in my shoes at least once in your lifetime so there is no excuse to not respond to this post! Here's the situation. Belle, while living a legal lifestyle has chosen a lifestyle that is frowned upon in society. I made a conscious decision 2 years ago to not hide escorting from those in my personal life. With that being said I will point out that I never made it a point to openly discuss with friends or family my decision to become an escort, but when questioned about my activities I never denied it nor did I try to explain it away by pleading that it was my only option at the time. In doing so, I have lost alot that has meant alot. Not only the respect of my family, but any relationship I had with them prior to their knowledge of Belle.
In return for what I lost, I gained self respect. I have talked alot about this so I wont go into any further deatil about how wonderful escorting has been to my life in a very personal way. With my marriage falling apart my fear was that my experiences as Belle would lead to a battle in the courts about my parenting skills, hence my abrupt retirement. My kids are my life and I need to protect them as I always have and always will. I have been assured by my lawyer that I could face no legal recourse for escorting and could not face losing my children based solely on that circumstance. I did not find his words to be any more comforting though. In November when my mother and sister were made aware of Belle, they called the authorities. It was never brought up to me, the topic was never discussed. FACS made their rounds and determined my kids were very well adjusted children. I provide a safe home, warm clothing and all other necessities as expected of any parent. I did not fear their evaluation as I have never doubted myself as a mother. I screw up, yes. But I always do my best for them.
So my question is this. What if your SO, your mother, your co-workers, your neighbors, your friends discovered what you dabble in from time to time. I think I know the answer, and there is no right or wrong answer but I am wondering if I took my "I am woman hear me roar" routine a little too far. Is it wrong that I stand by my decision to be an escort? Did I get too caught up in this new person I have found within myself and give up more that what I should have been willing to give up?
Where do we draw the line between standing up for what we believe in, even when it hurts those closest to us? Do we protect them, or ourselves? I am not saying that each of you that are married should be running to your spouses and confessing your activities. Sometimes the truth isn't the best policy. I am just saying, have you not had times in your life when you went against the grain because it was something you need to do for yourself even though it would be met with some conflict in your life? Just looking for some thoughts out there is all.
In return for what I lost, I gained self respect. I have talked alot about this so I wont go into any further deatil about how wonderful escorting has been to my life in a very personal way. With my marriage falling apart my fear was that my experiences as Belle would lead to a battle in the courts about my parenting skills, hence my abrupt retirement. My kids are my life and I need to protect them as I always have and always will. I have been assured by my lawyer that I could face no legal recourse for escorting and could not face losing my children based solely on that circumstance. I did not find his words to be any more comforting though. In November when my mother and sister were made aware of Belle, they called the authorities. It was never brought up to me, the topic was never discussed. FACS made their rounds and determined my kids were very well adjusted children. I provide a safe home, warm clothing and all other necessities as expected of any parent. I did not fear their evaluation as I have never doubted myself as a mother. I screw up, yes. But I always do my best for them.
So my question is this. What if your SO, your mother, your co-workers, your neighbors, your friends discovered what you dabble in from time to time. I think I know the answer, and there is no right or wrong answer but I am wondering if I took my "I am woman hear me roar" routine a little too far. Is it wrong that I stand by my decision to be an escort? Did I get too caught up in this new person I have found within myself and give up more that what I should have been willing to give up?
Where do we draw the line between standing up for what we believe in, even when it hurts those closest to us? Do we protect them, or ourselves? I am not saying that each of you that are married should be running to your spouses and confessing your activities. Sometimes the truth isn't the best policy. I am just saying, have you not had times in your life when you went against the grain because it was something you need to do for yourself even though it would be met with some conflict in your life? Just looking for some thoughts out there is all.
A woman's thread
Now being made aware of my morality I began to panic a few weeks ago when my left breast became tender to the touch. I left it until Monday when I finally boked an apointment with my family doctor. He didn't seem too concerned but set up a mammogram and ultrasound appointment just to check things out. I'm sure things are fine, likely a pulled muscle but I have to tell you about the visit for the mammogram.
I spent the 20 minutes in the waiting room kind of chuckling at the thought of a nurse trying to find enough breats tissue to compress in the boob vice. My name is called and I am shown the changing area where I was handed a gown. Dressed appropriately the technician leads me into the room and asks me to remove the gown. She likely expected me to be nervous so as she was preparing the films she talked me through the process. Little does she know I am more than comfortable being naked in the presence of another woman.
I told her she was about to face a challenge as I was giving her little to work with. "No worries" she responds, again probably trying to make me feel less self conscious. So. I am standing at the machiene. For those of you that have never had the pleasure of breast screening, you remain standing, the technician places your breast on a metal plate and uses her foot to control a pedal that lowers the upper plate onto the top of your breast, compressing the tissue to be xrayed.
I walk up to the plate and all I am able to rest on the plate is a perky nipple. It was kinda funny actually, I had to ask her if I should pull it a little or what she neded me to do. "Just relax and I will position you" she says. "Ok, if you insist" I thought. So there I stood while she fondled my breast. Ok, she was doing her job but it felt like fondling to me. In fact, I found this process so amusing I tried to drag it on as long as I could. She had me bending over slighly, lowering my shoulder as she stood at my side grabbing tissue from what felt like my collar bone area just to get some flesh on the plate. Pulling tightly she managed to get enough skin to press between the plates as she stepped on the pedal to begin the compression. Although I think she cheated. She was pulling so damn hard I am sure much of that flesh was borrowed from my cheeks.
She walked away to take the picture just as I was looking down to see my nipple squashed against the upper plastic plate. I wouldn't say the experience was totally enjoyable but it did turn me on a little. I mean, I have never been into bondage or S&M by any means but what's the harm in a little resistance? It would have been much more enjoyable had I another woman knelt down below me to counteract the nipple stimulation but even without, it was something I did not expect to find arousing. Problem now is, I think I lost a size from the time I walked into the office. Any more of those and I will have to change my name to Bill.Now on Thursday I get to have my breasts fondled yet again during my ultrasound. Rumour has it it is a much more intimate setting and the technician brings her own heated KY Jelly! Wonder if I'm allowed to bring my pocket rocket? Yes, this is what my life has come to since leaving escorting. Any bets on how long my retirement will last? Likely not any longer than this smoking BS. When I start to fantasize about medical imaging equipment I think I need to draw the line!
I spent the 20 minutes in the waiting room kind of chuckling at the thought of a nurse trying to find enough breats tissue to compress in the boob vice. My name is called and I am shown the changing area where I was handed a gown. Dressed appropriately the technician leads me into the room and asks me to remove the gown. She likely expected me to be nervous so as she was preparing the films she talked me through the process. Little does she know I am more than comfortable being naked in the presence of another woman.
I told her she was about to face a challenge as I was giving her little to work with. "No worries" she responds, again probably trying to make me feel less self conscious. So. I am standing at the machiene. For those of you that have never had the pleasure of breast screening, you remain standing, the technician places your breast on a metal plate and uses her foot to control a pedal that lowers the upper plate onto the top of your breast, compressing the tissue to be xrayed.
I walk up to the plate and all I am able to rest on the plate is a perky nipple. It was kinda funny actually, I had to ask her if I should pull it a little or what she neded me to do. "Just relax and I will position you" she says. "Ok, if you insist" I thought. So there I stood while she fondled my breast. Ok, she was doing her job but it felt like fondling to me. In fact, I found this process so amusing I tried to drag it on as long as I could. She had me bending over slighly, lowering my shoulder as she stood at my side grabbing tissue from what felt like my collar bone area just to get some flesh on the plate. Pulling tightly she managed to get enough skin to press between the plates as she stepped on the pedal to begin the compression. Although I think she cheated. She was pulling so damn hard I am sure much of that flesh was borrowed from my cheeks.
She walked away to take the picture just as I was looking down to see my nipple squashed against the upper plastic plate. I wouldn't say the experience was totally enjoyable but it did turn me on a little. I mean, I have never been into bondage or S&M by any means but what's the harm in a little resistance? It would have been much more enjoyable had I another woman knelt down below me to counteract the nipple stimulation but even without, it was something I did not expect to find arousing. Problem now is, I think I lost a size from the time I walked into the office. Any more of those and I will have to change my name to Bill.Now on Thursday I get to have my breasts fondled yet again during my ultrasound. Rumour has it it is a much more intimate setting and the technician brings her own heated KY Jelly! Wonder if I'm allowed to bring my pocket rocket? Yes, this is what my life has come to since leaving escorting. Any bets on how long my retirement will last? Likely not any longer than this smoking BS. When I start to fantasize about medical imaging equipment I think I need to draw the line!
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