I hate mood swings. Had four good days in a row. Now into day three of feeling shite. Doing simple things is like wading through treacle (which sounds like a stickier version of mud-wrestling but is infinitely less fun. Not that I've ever actually mud-wrestled. Guess it must be good for the skin, given the amount of money mud masks cost though.)
Went to a friend's for dinner on Friday night which was good. She's a great cook and was nice to want to eat (worryingly, have lost nearly a stone so have to start eating properly). I slept for most of yesterday and today, cos am utterly exhausted. Apparently, sleep boosts seratonin levels which is why it's the refuge of the depressive.
However, have been trying to follow my own advice (as dispensed in this week's Messagizer newsletter) on dealing with break-up; eating properly (chocolate counts, yes? Having never been a chocoholic am now getting cravings and thus adopting conspiracy theories about the chocolate companies and some 'singles' drug they put in it making single types crave chocolate, thus get fat and spotty, thus stay single, thus eat more chocolate.) sleeping (ahem, think 20 hours in a day is a tad excessive so trying to drag self out of bed as much as poss.) avoiding alcohol and all that kind of thing.
Aside from deeply boring feeling sorry for self (yep, there are loads of people worse off than me. I know and promise I'm trying to snap out of this.) have been trying to get work done. Written a column for Revolution about internet marketing (seemed appropriate, as it's an internet marketing magazine) Pitched some ideas to some people (and just got a commission back. Cool). Arranged some meetings. Also, joined the Cunning Linguists network which has got some great links; the fabulous Eros Blog and Zen Slut amongst them.
Guess I should get on with some work before I fall asleep again.
Now there's a surprise (link from Elizabeth)
Reworking of another childhood classic
(play with speakers on). Link from Adult Backwash.
Went out tonight and it was my first night out as 'single girl' ( this is not the same as 'gagging for a shag girl'. ETA of that is about 3 months away) I was scared. I was going to an unknown part of London, to an event where I knew no-one with a mate who wouldn't be arriving for at least an hour after me.
It rocked. OK, at first, it sucked. I turned up, bought a beer, looked round feeling lost and recognising no-one. Then noticed the sign reading 'private party' on the door in the far corner and felt like an utter tit for not noticing it.
Walked downstairs with my pint.
'Are you here for the book launch?' asked the foxy bird at the door.
'Yes.'
'Shame you've got a drink - we've got free champagne.'
I cursed myself mentally. Lager is good. But champagne - free champagne - is better.
It was rammed. I still recognised no-one. I saw a spare seat.
'Mind if I sit here?'
The people surrounding the seat shrugged.
I sat down and felt shite. Then took off my coat and jacket to reveal my Cliterati T-shirt. Worn because I've used the broken hearted excuse to avoid all domesticity thus the only wearable tops I had were the T-shirts I haven't yet sent to our stockists or the frankly manky tops I've yet to wash in the wash-basket.
I went for the option that didn't involve washing a top in the sink and blowdrying it (where the hell is my hairdryer anyway?)
I love Cliterati T-shirts. Suddenly, people talked to me.
'Do you work for Cliterati? I love the site.'
'Are you Emily? I've been meaning to mail you for ages.'
Ended up having ace conversations with the woman who set up the Sex Workers Union, a woman who wants to set up a sex mag for women, a couple of people from Coco de Mer, the marketing manager for Television X and Anna Span (whose launch it was; she's Britain's foremost female porn producer and a top laugh. Oh, and has just written a book on how to make good porn flicks at home. Which is what she was launching.)
One of the blokes she used for the pics in the book did stuff for the Lovers' Guide shoot I art directed. It was weird looking through a book and seeing him doing pervy things. When I art directed him, it was work. In her book, he was just a frankly rather fit bloke.
My mate turned up at 9pm and we had a great chat. He was happy, surrounded by porntastic birds. And was good to see him again.
Got a cab back and had a cool chat with the cabbie. Well, I thought it was cool. But I was pissed. It was probably shite.
Maybe being single doesn't suck so much after all.
Today, I saw a freelance job I liked the look of. It asked for a CV so I updated it and sent it off. This may not sound like a big thing to do, but after the last couple of weeks, when even typing a sentence was proving a major effort, it is. Whether or not I get the job, I'm glad that I've done it. Feels like a step forward.
I've also got back into the writing thing. Managed to meet my deadlines on a couple of pieces (just). Was determined not to let my (lack of) love life affect my work.
Day by day, it's getting easier. I've now gone for three days without wearing my engagement ring (yes, I should have taken it off when the split happened but it triggered a Pavlovian sobbing outburst every time I tried so I decided to wait until I was ready) and two days without crying.
Tonight, I'm off out the the launch of a new book. It's the kind of thing I'd have gone to with my ex (still getting used to typing that word!) but, even though we've had a couple of friendly evenings out together, I decided to go with a mate instead. I'm looking forward to it. And that is a very good thing.
One of the advantages of break-up induced insomnia is that I get so spend more time reading blogs I rarely get a chance to. This is seriously cute.
I'm with Meg on her reading of things.
Frightened female frogs thwart zoo mating scheme
Says the chief zoologist:
"We even went as far as getting a tape for them with frog sounds on it so they could make love."
Can't believe they tried to find frog porn.
Boy, 14, forced to marry 12-year-old for teasing her
Teaching her how to punch or sneer back at him would surely have been more effective?
Surrendering troops fired on and cameraman killed in crossfire vs footage of POWs shown on TV.
Here's a reminder. Both sides should read it.
So, I'm single. This, as a word, sucks. I keep thinking that words like 'independent' and 'free' are much better. And they will be. Except I never felt I wasn't when I was 'attached'. We did what we wanted to do. We were 'our own people'. Except we both compromised. And while compromise is good, there are levels. And you never realise them until you go too far. Well, you may but we didn't.
As a reality, 'single' sucks more. Not going to go into the reasons why cos, after five and a half years of living together 24/7, that would mean a very long and boring monologue. So I'll keep it short and boring instead.
We still love each other. We're still 'in love' with each other. But shit happens. We may get back together. We may not. But for the time being, it's better to be apart. And it's sad. Very sad. I've done the howling. I've done the anger. I've done more howling. I still stand by this - as does he. But now, it's nostalgia. Well, no, now it's howl inducing but with nostalgia penned in for the future.
Tonight, we went out for the first time and actually were friends rather than lovers/ex lovers. I'm not for a second imagining that we've already made the leap to friends, but it was nice to have that even for an hour or so; it gave a glimpse of what might be.
Life continues as normal. And hell, we may all die tomorrow. There's war going on. There are people dying from attrocities every day. And somehow, much as I know I should be caring about that, right now, I want my little world to be fixed. It's trivial. It's trite. But it matters to me.
But even though, right now, it hurts like fuck, I don't regret a second of it. Love rocks.
It's just sad that it doen't always last forever.
So, CNN journalists have been expelled from Iraq because they are claimed to be producing propaganda (what's the difference between propaganda and morale-raising other than perspective? I can't trust 100 per cent that what we're seeing on any channel is entirely accurate, cos hell, there's bias in all media reporting and, if anything, that increases with war. But denying access to journalists limits the amount of potential perspectives and that's a dangerous thing.)
According to a camera man in Baghdad (paid for blog but worth reading) many journalists started leaving a couple of days ago:
"The Daily Telegraph started the rot for the dailies.... shortly after that the Times, NY Times, Washington Post etc all got their marching orders from their superiors in where-ever. The Beeb, Sky, ITN, the Germans ZDF, and RTL, (ARD has been pulled), seems the French are still largely here (I think - no one really clear about that) and ourselves are all staying. We though Rageh Omar of the Beeb was going wobbly, but he seems to have stiffened. "
There are two big explosions in Central Baghdad that are being played over and over and over again on TV. I can't help but think when I see it that we are watching people die. And I don't know who. Maybe it is all 'bad guys' being killed. Maybe there's no-one in there. Or maybe it's innocent people. Seeing destruction is hideous.
ITN are speculating whether Saddam is dead because he hasn't made himself visible to say otherwise (surely if you know troops are looking to kill you, being in any way traceable is a bad move?) Iraq are blaming the UN for not controlling the UK and the US. How much bloody diplomacy is breaking down because of this? And then there's the amount of people who are dying, and all the friends and family that are affected.
Xenophobia is rife: amongst the stories, a company called French Cleaners in the US has been subject to vandalism (apparently, the owner 'just picked the name on a whim and made the Eiffel Tower the stores' logo.')
But the anti-war effort continues. There are petitions. And there's the march tomorrow. This time I'm more nervous for John who's marshalling again; partly because there are more rumours of fights breaking out, partly because police tend to get tetchy when there are people hanging out near Whithall and partly because now we're at war, number ten doesn't seem that safe a place to hang out. However, I'm really proud of him for going along because, as he's said, if there are people there who've marshalled big rallies before (which, as ex-vice chair of CND, he and a lot of the other 'old timers' who've got involved again he has) then the chances of a big ruck breaking out are decreased. CND has tried to get as much organisation as possible sorted this week. Hwever, as he says:
The police are denying CND [either a mini-stage or even a PA system]primarily because they "have intelligence" that something bad's being planned by someone at Downing Street (which is why it's currently double-barriered to hell and back). On the plus side, this is a good thing - if it gets busy I didn't want there to be a bottleneck, over and above the one which the barriers will cause, either. On the possible downside, this has previously been an excuse to behave extremely heavy-handedly, and if something *does* kick off, I'm going have to find a way of reversing the flow of traffic west of Downing Street because there are no sidestreets for people to evaporate into between there and Parliament Square.
Reading today's Sex News Daily there was a story about the Sexual Intelligence awards. These are given each year to men and women who have made a significant contribution toward a healthier approach to sexuality around the world. I reckon that this is a very good thing indeed.
The details of the winners featured a story that I'm pretty sure that I haven't seen mentioned over here but I could well be wrong. According to the Sexual Intelligence newsletter:
In November, the Washington Post reported that Jack McGeorge, one of the U.N. weapons inspectors in Iraq, was a national leader of America's growing S/M community.
McGeorge is hardly in the closet about this; he's a founder of the Black Rose support and education group, an officer of the Leather Leadership Conference, and a former Chair of the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom.
When confronted by the Washington Post about his involvement with S/M, McGeorge was unapologetic.
"I have been very upfront with people in the past about what I do," he said, "and it has never prevented me from getting a job. I am not ashamed of who I am--not one bit."
Nevertheless, to protect the work of the U.N. weapons inspection program in Iraq, McGeorge offered his resignation to Chief Inspector Hans Blix.
Blix rejected McGeorge's offer to resign, pointing out that his sexual activities have nothing to do with his competence. Believing McGeorge to be "a highly qualified technical expert," Blix's office said, "We are not aware of any grounds for his resignation."
When the U.N. Secretary General was asked whether McGeorge's S/M involvement might be offensive to Iraqi Muslims, Annan's office noted that all weapons inspectors are required to be sensitive to local cultures. And that was that.
I was always rubbish at Etch a Sketch. Still am. But this is cool nonetheless, particularly when you clear the screen. (Another B3ta recommendation.)
Another day, another Lovers' Guide meeting - this time looking at lesbian and gay products. There's a top bird who does the 'Lesbian London' slot on LBC who's up for getting involved, which is really cool. Then onto a Cliterati meeting to talk about a possible partnership deal. Was with someone I'd worked with in the past so involved as much beer as business, which is always a good thing.
Is really odd, life carrying on as normal while we're at war. John is up to his ears in preparing for the march on Saturday - will be a long day.
Sad thing is that it's unlikely as many people will go (I'd love to be proved wrong though) as there's been less time to organise it. As a result the media are likely to fall back on the 'Support for anti-war effort wanes now war has broken out'.
Been writing more SMS tips today - this time sex tips (the ones you get if you sign up to the service advertised after Sex and the City.)
So many words to do with sex are just far too long - erogenous, for example. And some are just too rude to be able to use in abbreviated format - cum instead of come for example. Finding things that are simple enough to describe in 160 characters and yet original enough to not be a waste of 25p (or however much it is) gets noticeably harder after the first forty or so tips. There are only so many different things to *do* in the sack (or out of it) without getting into the realms of fetish.
Still, it's my job to come up with them, I guess. And it's a good thing, being busy.
Which one should you go for? I got 300, thus meaning I'd be rubbish as a bloke.
Jo has been a total star and been coding away at the pornograph (old joke being that I'm a pornographer without a pornograph.) It's a simple enough concept. Albeit slightly geeky. As with many ideas, beer was involved in its evolution.
Imagine a choose your own adventure novel (turn to page 7 if you want to fight the dragon. Turn to page 9 if you want to run away. Turn to page 12 if you want to ask the wizard for help.)
Add porn. (turn to page 7 if you want to cop off with Mark. Turn to page 9 if you want to cop off with Emma. Turn to page 12 if you want to cop off with them both.)
Add the internet. And thus the pornograph was born.
I'm curently populating the database with an initial story. Jo has created a great system that does all the hard work so that all I need to do is write each thread of the story.
The maths is terrifying. At the moment, each section is about 30 words long. Taking an approximate average length of 3,000 words for a Cliterati contribution, that's 100 places for the story to branch. Assuming three options at each branch, that means that by the time you're up to four versions of the same story at the first branch. Each of those versions has three further options each, taking it up to 12 stories. Each of these has three options, taking it up to 36 versions of the story. By the time you're 90 words in. It would take me far too long to figure out the amount of variations available by the time the story gets to 3,000 words long. But it's approximately a gazillion.
Why bother? For the hell of it. There's something intriguing about creating truly interactive porn. Once the site is up, people will be able to add their own threads to the story.
Which will make the maths even more terrifying.
The One and Only Original Belgian Fries Website
(Link courtesy of other half)
Got a really sweet letter submitted to Cliterati today. We don't have a letters page so figured here's as good a place as any to put it:
I'm a 19 yr old girl from a tiny town in Alabama, USA. I have been brought up in a very religious enviroment, all I've been told about sex by my school and parents, when they said anything at all, is that 'God tells us to wait till marriage, that's what the Bible says so it wasn't written for nothing.' I've been surrounded all my life by the viewpoint that sex was a sin, not something to be explored and enjoyed.
For most of my teens I've had a feeling in me that I couldn't express, a voice screaming that all I'd been brought up to believe about intimacy was a hideous lie. I just want to say a big thank you to all those involved in Cliterati for bringing me color and liberalism in an area which has so far been grey and constrained. It's good to know you're out there, you give me hope that some day maybe this world will shred the sad masquerade of sex as something wrong. Now I must go and wank...
I was dead chuffed. It's nice to think that we're making a difference, however small. 'What did you do for the world today?' 'I helped a 19 year old in Alabama have a wank.' OK, it's not remotely up there with world peace but at least it's something.
It's been the usual sex-filled couple of days: had meetings with Pout and the Lovers' Guide, both of which went well but mean I've got lots of documents to write, was offered a full body massage from a very tasty porn star (One of the blokes we used for the Lovers' Guide mag who I'm helping get involved in voice over work. He was joking. I think.) via text message and wrote another smutty story for Cliterati.
Got to start planning the Cliterati party. It's not happening till the end of August but we've had interest from sponsors who want me to send them a proposal. Basic plan has always been 'Buy some drink, get a DJ, invite people to venue to get hammered, hand a press release to any journos who are coming to find out about the site rather than get the free drinks. Once I've spoke to that journalist, get hammered myself.'
Think that I may need to revise this somewhat.
Man has to pay out for lying about marriage
After three days in bed, am feeling much better. Sleep is a good thing. Very relieved the ginger tea etc worked cos I've got meetings tomorrow with Pout TV (new adult channel for women and couples) and the Lovers' Guide. Back to the usual sex grind (hmmm).
Have various random things to sort out; a competition to win honey (apparently an aphrodisiac) on the Lovers' Guide site, recording a load of Cliterati stories for the next Rude Girls event, deciding whether or not we like the idea of running a Cliterati phoneline and catching up with various 'sexpert' types. Really must get round to writing some more smut too.
Also have to write the new Sex Insider newsletter. Latest news is that a company has set up to provide, in their words:
An escort agency for couples who enjoy an extra person or persons intimate company.
Sure to be a load of women's mags interested in writing about them.
Ever thought you can come up with a great title for a porn film? Hustler and AdultDVDTalk.com have got a Name that porno contest to let you do exactly that. They want a title for their new anal sex series ("Not there", "Wrong hole" or "Ow, you bastard." spring to mind.)
Winners get the very first DVD of the series fresh off the press and autographed by Larry Flynt and 10 Hustler titles of their choice.
Feel really manky today. Went to see a friend for the weekend to escape London (Johnson was wrong. When you are tired of London, you are not tired of life. You're just fed up with tubes, pollution, tourists taking photos of shops while standing in the middle of the street, posters announcing that someone's been raped or murdered in your area and overpriced drinks.)
Sadly, doing the public transport thing meant I was in close proximity to a gazillion germ-laden people sniffling with the lurgy that has been going round and, as a result, I now am sitting here dosed up to the eyeballs on ibuprofen, vitamin C, zinc, propolis (it came bundled in with the vitamin C and zinc pills. Having just read that it's 'a dark sticky resinous substance bees collect from leaf buds, twigs and tree bark then carry back to their hives and mix with their salivary secretions and wax flakes. ' can now add nausea to my symptoms) and chicken soup, trying to get up the energy to make myself some ginger tea.
Would have stayed in bed but had to write an article and now I'm up, don't feel sleepy. Have, however, done the lying on sofa flicking through women's magazines thing. Marie Claire has a 'Diary of a Boob Job' feature. At the end is a Q&A.
'Where do I go for more information about breast implants?'
'Contact the British Association of Plastic Surgeons or visit their website at BAPS.co.uk.'
Made me smile.
One night Brandy and I were sitting with a guy at a table in Dancers, a strip joint in Atlanta. The guy kept getting table dances, but he also kept pestering the hell out of us to meet him in his hotel room when we got off work. Finally Brandy, a notorious scammer, said, "Okay, give me a hundred dollars and your hotel room key, and I'll let myself in at 2:30." The guy gave her the money and the key and left. I asked Brandy if she was actually going to the guy's hotel room, and she just laughed. Later she came up to me in the dressing room and said, "I was just sitting with a guy, and he was bugging me to meet him after work. I said, 'Give me a hundred dollars and I'll give you my hotel room key. He did, and I said, 'Great, just let yourself in at 2:30.' "
Couple killed on road while shagging.
Why? Just why?
Also worrying is that there have apparently been a number of people killed while sleeping on roads. Darwin in action?
(Link found on Evie's Erotic Miscellanea)
Dave Green: Doesn't like blogs but does watch Grange Hill, apparently
Had a great day today. Went for lunch with the MD of the Lovers' Guide and he asked me if I'd like to be a company director from March. Seems to make sense given that I'm already writing the vids and editing the website so it's taking up a fair bit of time already. And it's fun.
Got to write the latest Messagizer newsletter - something about sex, subject to be decided. And then got a load of emails to reply to/interviews to write up. The first is with the author of Fearless Loving (surprisingly good book. I usually hate self-help books but this one actually contains no bullshit interesting info/advice. Then again, the author watched her dad shoot her mother and then kill himself when she was 14 years old and had to figure out how to deal with it so she's dealt with some heavy shit in her time. Best of all, it's not a whiny 'victim syndrome' book, which makes a change.)
The other is rather different - it's with Lindsay Honey, better known as 'Ben Dover'. We've had loads of women say they like Ben Dover films when asked about the porn they like so figured an interview with him would be a good thing for Cliterati. Apparently his ambition is to be a politician (This piece gives an idea of his politics). Apparently, the most amusing moment on set was as follows:
We turned up to do a housewives shoot and the lady had been called to a meeting with social services. She asked her next door neighbour if she'd do it instead. And she did! She had the time of her life.
Tad different from asking a neighbour if you can borrow a cup of sugar.
If you fancy being in a Ben Dover film, mail ben@ben-dover.com . However, bear in mind this comment:
"I don't audition English guys any more. They're all rubbish."
Woman keeps husband's body in home for three weeks
Authorities got a search warrant and removed medications from the home and took pictures of other items found in the bedroom, including a fly swatter and incense.
Strangely reminiscent of this.
I feel happy. Today I got an email from one of the Cliterati contributors. She submitted a story to the site ages ago and I'd told her it was brilliant. I pointed her towards Black Lace's writing guidelines and suggested she submitted something to them. And she's just got a story published in their new Wicked Words anthology. She wrote to say thanks for encouraging her, which was really sweet.
Whilst on the subject of Cliterati, today's surreal media request submitted to the site: a national magazine is offering free penis readings. So if you want your future determined by your cock, you know where to go.
There are also magazines and TV companies after sex addicts, a couple prepared to be hypnotized and talk about sex, another couple to try out sex tips for TV and sexy people in general. Who said sex sells?
Went out with a journalist last night. She's screamingly bright and a great writer. She's pitched a load of ideas to various publications. They like her writing. They like her ideas. But they won't take her on without seeing her clippings - which must be from national press.
Now seeing something in print (or online, but clearly paid for) fair enough; knowing that a writer you commission has worked to deadline before is important. Though not essential, as long as they'll guarantee to get copy in on time.
But it seems that most of the mainstream publications nowadays want to see clippings from similarly mainstream publications, so someone who started writing for a student paper, then moved to a fanzine and then picked up a regular writing gig for an underground magazine, and has shown their commitment to writing for years, doesn't have a chance to get published.
I'm lucky. I've picked up a fair few commissions for the nationals which now makes it easier to get more commissions. But it took years - I've wanted to be a writer since I was four. Not that I'm complaining - I feel like I've worked to get where I am. But it seems to be getting harder and harder for new people to get into the industry.
Sure, journalism is a competitive field. But only giving work to people with a book rammed full of clippings is a great way to stop any influx of new talent. It's the old 'you must have experience to get experience' thing. And that's sad.
Spent this morning writing SMS tips for a new client. It's amazing how quickly you start to write in SMS automatically. Luckily, it's for a non-teen audience so I don't have to do the full SMS thing - just numbers instead of letters, 'u' instead of 'you' and that kind of thing. Otherwise, I'd be doomed.
Had a nice enough weekend. Went to a client's for dinner on Saturday night then did a traditional Sunday roast yesterday. Was a last minute thing with a couple of mates, except that one bailed out, so ended up being a cosy threesome. In the non-pervy sense. The guy who came over has just finished a novel so we sat round and talked about fiction-writing for most of the afternoon.
Beginning to feel distinctly slack for not having had a book out yet. Then again, I still haven't got round to finishing one. Have about four semi-completed novels (about 10,000 words each) but I get bored and decide some other idea is far better.
Must try harder.