Here's A New One For You

   Tonight's client had the same area code as my home town. It's a small city with a small town mentality. We quickly bonded over this, and I asked him, what city specifically he was from. And he told me, and I said, "Oh, that's where I'm from, I was just there a few weeks ago!" Chat, chat, "It's growing so much." "I know, I hardly recognise it." "It's weird," I tell him, "I love where I live, because it's big and there's everything here, but I love my home town because it's small. It's like the Ying to my Yang. But now it's becoming like where I live now, and I want it to stay the way it is." We commiserated about how it's growing too fast for it's own good.

   I really enjoyed his company. He wasn't feeling well, which I think is why he called. He was looking for more of a nurturer than a playmate. I fill that role quite well. I love to nurture, and I love to look after people. It was nice. But of course one thing leads to another and we're getting down to business, and I look him in the face, and I'm like, "Holy Fuck." I don't know this guy, but I'm pretty sure I know his son. Like, really know his son. While I'm 'working' I'm racking my brain to re-hash our conversation that we had. ie He told me what neighbourhood he lived in; check.  He told me what his job was; check... And my mind is reeling. I know I've met my friends mom, years ago, but did I ever meet his dad. More importantly has his dad ever met Realme?

   The funny thing is, I've always had this fantasy. You know, doing two men in the same family. Whether it be father and son, or two brothers, but man... this is not the way I wanted it to go down.

    So now that I'm thinking about it, I'm paying attention to similarities. His son and I had a relationship, a very casual relationship, but it went on for years. We got to know each other intimately. And you know what? Fuck, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Same... samesamesamecreepysame! Yuk! It was funny.

   It's time to find out though. For real. Cause so far we're just talking about similarities.
   I introduce my question with, "Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" And this isn't a question I would normally ask, but I felt we'd bonded. The whole nurturing time was really intimate and it was really  caring, and it was just nice. I gave him a massage, and we just cuddled, and it was nice.
   So I asked him, "Is your last name Anderson?" My friend's l last name isn't Anderson, but I knew he would say, "No it's," and then tell me.
   And sure enough! However, if I was wrong, I didn't want to give away any personal information.
   "Oh, sorry, I thought I knew you from home, but I guess not. And you have a good night, and I will see you next time you come to town."

Some times I wonder how to process things so weird and bizarre. I have come to the conclusion, that I just shouldn't. Chalk it up to another weird work place situation.

TMI

As I mentioned the other day, I've put my vibrator in the drawer, and it's not coming out. Yes this has slowed me down, but it hasn't stopped me! I have to confess though; getting myself off sans toys is a new thing for me. Like very new. I can only think of two times in the past where I have flown solo... once was out of curiosity, the other time was out of spite (my girlfriend wouldn't have sex with me. I showed her!) Well now I guess I'm committed to this new way of doing things. Second confession: I hooked up with this chic at Burning Man, and I was having my way with her, and she was very... umm... guiding? She wasn't bossy, or telling me what to do, she just told me what she really liked, and told me what she liked less. I appreciate this! We had a good time. That is not the confession. The confession, and I can't believe I'm admitting this, is I didn't know where the G-Spot was! Me! A bisexual twenty something year old prostitute! Frick. 

Men, listen up, cause this was news to me. The G-Spot is not the soft part of the vaginal wall, it's just inside. If you rub against the pelvic bone, you'll find it. Confessing to this makes me feel completely incompetent to how I pleased the ladies in the past, but I'm reassuring myself based on their physical reactions...

ANYWAY! She helped me find it, and it was very obvious that I did! So I take this new found information, and go exploring. I still can't believe I'm confessing this, but again that's something I haven't done since grade school. I'm all about the clit, the rest of my poor naughty bits have clearly just been neglected (by me anyway), but I tried out a whole bunch of new things, and it was ah-may-ZING!

Why am I telling you this? Mostly cause I think it's funny. It's kinda work related, isn't it? No? Oh well... I went reading through my blog from the perspective of Wonder-Boy, and I can't believe the things he knows about me now. This is so awkward! I told him about the blog, and I'm glad he read it, just so he knows what he could potentially be getting involved with, but frick, there are somethings that I would have liked to hold off on sharing until at least the second date. I asked him to stop reading it until at least I saw him again. Not because I'm hiding things, but because it's just EMBARRASSING. Then I think about everyone else I know who reads it. I just can't think about that. lol. Ughhh. So much sharing. But anyone who knows me, knows that's just how I am. He has agreed to stop reading it. I'm going to trust that he has. Whether or not he actually has, is less important to me, I just can't write the way I want to picturing his face in the glow of the computer...

Jake

   I was out for breakfast with Alex and some friends the other day.
   Emma said, "What ever happened that guy who joined us for breakfast that day? Do you still talk to him?"
   I knew exactly who she was talking about. Jake. Oh Jake. Alex explained that he was more of a periphery friend, and that we don't see him too often. I didn't say much.
   "He was gorgeous," She mused.
   "Mmm-hmm" I said, still not really adding to the conversation.
   "No really!" And she looks at her fiancée and partner of seven years, "If we broke up, he would be my first call,"
   "Oh good," He laughs.
   She continues to talk about him for a bizarre amount of time, before the conversation moves on to something else.

   As we walk out of the restaurant, there he was! Jake. Just chillin on the patio. I was the first to see him, and I pointed him out to Alex, so I wouldn't be the first to say hello. Hugs all around. Gawd, he still looked as delicious as ever. It was good to see him. Weird. But good. In seeing him, I realised that I no longer wanted him. That was such a good thing. He was always my go-to when I wanted to think about something else at work, or in my personal time. I would joke to myself that I should have paid him commission. But he's not any more and that makes me smile.

Burnt Out

   I couldn't get off the couch today. Literally. I tried a few times, but my body was so physically exhausted, I could barely lift my head. I dropped off my fee's this afternoon at the office and the amount was twice as much as the biggest week I've ever had previously. Alex's job is physically demanding, and we joke that although, my job is too, it's not the same. I don't really work. I can't compare what I do with having to wake up to an alarm clock day in and day out, I do put in my time.

   On average each hour long call takes easily two to three hours with the prep/shower/makeup/travel time is required. I'm trying to justify why I'm so tired, but I still don't often put in an 8 hour day, and there's lots of people out there who work harder than I do. The amount of emotional energy I put out being the girl that the men want me to be is taxing. And I don't need to tell you that sex can be more tiring than time spent at the gym.

   The other day, I had a morning appointment with Frank, so I was up at 8:30, out the door by 9:30, spent an hour with him, went and got insurance for my trip, stopped by my grandma's for an hour (also where I have to be the person that she wants me to be), grab a quick bite (a smoothie, I know, should have been more), went to the STI clinic to get my naughty bits checked, went to see another regular, came home, sat on my couch for 15 minutes, ate a little more, saw third client, Mr. Texas with the non-emralds, drove to yoga, got in an accident en route (both my car and I are fine, we just swapped a little paint) did yoga, then skyped with boy-wonder until past midnight. I feel like all of my days have been that busy lately. Is that fair? Am I allowed to be exhausted? No? Too bad, you're a jerk!

I had an appointment with a client in the early evening, but didn't officially book on around 10:00 last night, then got called in right away. The client was a little weird. Not scary weird, just personality weird. He told me all about the other girls he's seen through the agency and how often he's seen them. He doesn't know why he hasn't seen my picture up there, he would have called me a lot sooner. My picture has been up for months, first line... lol... oh well. We don't chat long before we get down to business, and it wasn't long after that where he does a nose dive between my legs. "Woah, woah woah!" I exclaim, "Sorry, that costs extra." He looks at me, confused, and I explain the rates. He sits at the end of the bed, not facing me. I thought he was contemplating it. Instead he says, "You need to leave right now." "What? Is everything ok?" Apparently none of the other girls charged for those things, and this was completely ridiculous. "Can I just use your washroom really quickly?" He consented. I promptly left. The idea of giving some of his money back crossed my mind, but then thought better of it. He didn't reach his end goal but he did receive all services provided.

   I called the agency to tell them that I was out, and he'd already called, outraged by the inconsistency of services. I just do what I'm told, I don't make these rules up. I think the other girls allow guys to get away with more so they get more regulars. I don't. lol. I do fine with my regulars.

   My next call was a call back. While away on vacation, I accidentally deleted my contact book, so I was unable to reference who he was. Awesome move, I know. He sounded fine on the phone, I figured I'd figure it out when I got there. And I did. Did I tell you about the guy who flipped out at me because I was wearing purple lingerie?
   "WHY ARE YOU WEARING PURPLE??? I HATE PURPLE"
   Calm that coke binge down. Fuck. I snuck into the washroom, and told the agency to give me my time call in 5 minutes. They did, and I got out of there. This call was that guy. I didn't even go in. I called the agency and told her to tell him I had car troubles and couldn't make it. Susan totally has my back. No matter what the situation is. She had my back with the first dude, and she had my back in this situation too.
   I felt guilty about bailing, when I didn't know whether or not this situation would actually be ok, and she's like "If you don't feel safe, don't do it!"
   And I don't, I won't. But still, it's nice to know that I'm not going to end up on the shit list.

   From there... (Yes, there's more, it's about 1:30 AM at this point) I go to my third client. Not a regular, he picked me off the internet. He was a perfect way to finish off my evening. He looked like James Franco from 127 Hours, only a little shorter, and more latin. He was shy and charming. He told me that earlier he was cooking for his friend. The place smelt delicious. We spent a lot of time caressing. It was nice. He was hovering over me when he took his pants off, and something landed on me with a thud. I looked down, and it was the biggest cock I've ever seen. I don't mean professionally, I mean EVER, and I'm including porn! When I wrapped my hand around it, there was still an inch between my fingers and thumb.
   "What did you do?!?!" Alex asked when I told him after yoga.
   "What do you think I did?" I laughed.
   This guy blew me away though. Afterwards he played his guitar for me. Slide guitar, my most favorite thing in the world, when live. Then we just laid on the bed and talked for a bit while he rubbed my back. I was at a loss for words. That doesn't often happen with me. While running my hands through his hair, I noticed how corse it was. I asked him what his heritage was and he told me he was part horse. "Mmmm, yes, that makes sense." He didn't get it and was insulted. I reached down for his groin and he laughed.

   So the age old question. Does size matter. You know, when you're staring down at a beer can, you can't say it doesn't. Could I handle it? Yes. Was I intimidated? Yes! ha ha. We didn't do any more than the two basic positions, and I'm sure I could have done better with practice, but... ha ha. I sincerely don't think that size is a huge deal (sorry, didn't know how to get around that pun) I think if you're attentive, imaginative, and energetic, that will make up for any short comings you may have (again, sorry about the pun) And I truly believe that.

   So I know what you're thinking. "Poor Alison, so busy making all that money." You know what? Money has never been a motivator for me. I think that's why I've always ended up in jobs that don't pay, but make me happy, although not making rent ultimately made me sad. In this job I have the best of both worlds, as I value my time the most. I also think that's why I suck so bad at managing money.

What do you stand for?

Todays client was a hipster. Not what I expected. Hiring me seems to go against everything hipsters stand for. But what do hipsters stand for? Maybe it's too obscure for any of us regular folk to know. I'm sorry, I'll take my judgie pants off. But really? I asked him how old he was. I couldn't help it. He's like me, where one minute he could look 20, and the next he could look 30. After a bit of prodding and teasing he told me that he was thirty, and I confessed my real age too. Then I thought, how old is too old to be a hipster? Shouldn't he just grow up already? Does growing up mean losing your identity and fitting into this conformist box? I don't know. 

A little while ago I created a timeline of my life to keep track of all the major events in my life. This job, Mexico, Burning Man all made the list. In 2011 I also put that I grew up. It was a sad thing to write down, but I think it's finally happened. In taking this job I feel that I have finally taken control of my life. After my birthday last year, I went through a personal crisis that lasted about six months. I questioned every aspect of my life. Are my friends people I respect and admire? Do I actually like them? Or are they just people I'm using to fill my time? Does my job make me happy? Can I see any future in it? Am I making a difference? Am I providing any good in my life? Am I wasting my time? These thoughts were nagging in my head constantly. Finally I quit my desk job and took the leap of faith into the oldest profession. I lost a lot of friends, some I'm sad about, most were good decisions. It was a painful and incredible change that occurred in my life. 

I look at todays client through the same lenses that look at my own life, and maybe he's doing the best he can. Maybe being a hipster is what he stands for. I mean, who am I to talk, I'm just a whore. 

I googled "What do Hipsters stand for?" and I got this:In Defense of Hipsters

On a different note, this guy, lets just call him Clarke, (cause he was nerdy like Clark Kent, and hot like Superman) had a lot of original art pieces in his house. This one piece caught my eye as soon as I walked in. It was in a black frame on a yellowed matte, and the medium was pencil led. It'd looked like led shavings had been swirlled around and rubbed on then the phrase "I LIKE THINGS" was cut out of the paper with an exacto knife. I loved this piece. It was so childish, with the medium, and the way it was cut, and even the choice of words, but so adult with the starkness of colour. I think it really spoke to the mentality of our culture, myself included. We like to collect shit, and show it off like kids after Christmas time. I offered to do a trade for it but he declined. Probably for the best. I loved it, but I have no idea where I'd hang it. 

My Views on Monogamy and My Married Clients

People weren't built to be monogamous. It's a concept invented by the Christians. 

Prior to getting married people need to have discussions as to what the other is to do, should one partner be no longer able to have sex. Change in hormonal balance, lack of desire, physical or mental injuries, children are all causes for a persons sex drive to deminish, and most of them are unpredictable. What is the other partner supposed to do? They still have needs.  

I want to compare monogamy to alcholism. When an alcoholic falls off the wagon,  whether it be after ten days or ten years, if they choose, they get back on the wagon, and they start again. It's not easy, and obviously there's work that needs to be done, but they don't throw away all the work that they've already put in. That work still counts for something. This is not the way that monogamy is viewed. One slip up, and it's all over. Families are ripped apart, children are taken away from their parents. Hearts are broken, and you start over. It's awful, and I think it's unessicary.

Monogamy is something that many people often fight so hard to achieve, and it's just unrealistic for most people. 

 To me the worst thing that happens in cheating is not the physical act, but the breach of trust. When people don't talk to their partners a divide is created. It's fair that people don't say, "I love you, but I'd love to have a ginger every now and then" We are so forced into this view of monogamy, like it's the only option. If your partner tells you they want to try something else, you feel you have failed, when really it has nothing to do with you. My ex LOVES really big boobs. Loves them. And I have small boobs. So I let him go have girls with big boobs. There was no sneaking around. I would know about all of them, and they would all know about me. And they knew damn sure that I was his first priority. There was one girl who thought she could take my place and she was gone so fast. I was secure in my relationship with him and I was secure with his love for me. There were things that he wanted that I couldn't/wouldn't provide, but who was I to deny that from him. To deny him fun!? That's not love. 

In order for this type of relationship to be a success, you both need to be very much on the same page, and you need to be communicating. You can't just go to your plus one and say, "I love you, and I'd like to see other people." You also need to look after the home front first. Having sex with others because you don't want to have sex with your plus one is not fair.                

Trust is paramount. Without it you have nothing. One of the major reasons for the demise in our relationships

I was told that not feeling responsible for the state of a mans marriage was like a drug dealer not feeling responsible for an addicts drug problems. There is truth behind that, but it's also like saying car manufactures need to take responsibility for the accidents that occurred in their vehicles. To take it a step further. Cigarettes . Has there been a law suite that has succeeded against them? I don't know. Do I hold them responsible for the cancer they cause. I hold them responsible for the addictive substances they have added to their cigarettes, and I hold them responsible for marketing youth. I didn't pick up a cigarette until I was 23, and I am still a non-smoker. The choice I made was to not have the second cigarette. People are not being held responsible for the choices they make. So as an escort, I feel that I am a symptom of the problem. I am not the problem. The problem started long before my client, the husband, picked up the phone and called me. I have been in discussions where views have differed, and I respect that. It's not my job to change one's mind, but when things get insulting or people question my integrity... it's important to choose ones words carefully

Decisions

A few days ago I had to make the decision between putting my last AA batteries in my vibrator or in my toothbrush. A girl should never have to make that choice. In the end my toothbrush won out. I know I could do it manually, but there was still a little juice left in my vib, so I decided it would have to do until I went grocery shopping. Since I got back from Bman, I've been spending time with my little mermaid daily, sometimes (often) more. I think it's the fact that my beaux aren't sexting. It builds tension... Although, if we were sexting, I'm sure I'd still be going at it all the time. I can't help it, he turns me on... I was thinking in frustration the other day that I haven't gotten off at work once yet since I got back. I generally get an orgasm out of maybe one in three clients. Not these days though. I didn't think much of it until last night. 

Last nights client was incredible. He was a kiwi in his early 40's and we hit it off, talking about vacations, scuba diving, and other travel experiences. He was impressed by the amount I've travelled. When the mood changed, things got a little awkward, so I switched to playful, and we started having fun. It was clear that he wanted to kiss me, so I explained the rules. "Just take what you need," he tells me. I grab the bill from the pile of cash on his night table and put it in my purse. The energy was so electric. So intense. And I'm so glad he got GFE, I didn't need to hold back, I didn't need to be conscious of the rules. He came before I did, and knowing I wasn't done yet, he went down on me. I just melted. I love oral, and this man was good. He wasn't bringing me any where near close to coming, and I debated giving him guidance, but I couldn't talk, I could barely breath. If he was this good why couldn't I come??? He finally gave up, and I cried out, "I hate my vibrator!!!" I knew this was a risk. My friend has a Hitatchi and now it's the only way she can come. But I didn't think I was that far gone. Sad day. I tried to finish myself off while he got water, and no dice. When I got home I immediately took  my little red frienemy from the drawer in my night table and put her in the drawer in my closet. She is not going to see the light of day for a long time. Back to Basics! 

Twitterpated

   Work has been slow. Good but slow. I think the 30 day yoga challenge is cutting into my business. They're 90 minute classes, plus travel time, plus clean up time. It chews into my day. Or maybe the agency forgot my name while I was gone. I've put my ad back in the Sun, but not much has come from it. It doesn't help that I didn't work Saturday night. I was invited to a friends  Steampunk Birthday party. Tell me you wouldn't do the same. I feel like I need to re-learn the value of money. Words I never thought I'd hear myself say. When I got back from the burn, I was stressing about money, and thought to myself, "So do I make a visa payment, or to I make a rent payment?" I was really worried about it, but in two days, I had both covered no sweat... well there was some sweat involved but...

   Things are going well with my new beaux. I dictionaried the word beaux, just to make sure I had the definition right, ie not a boyfriend, but someone who has potential to be, and I had it right. It's also defined beaux as male escort. Ironic. Ironic and hilarious. I assure you I'm not paying him. Our conversations aren't even dirty. Dirty things are implied, but almost never said. He is a gentleman... and I am trying to be a lady. haha. A few days after our initial conversation, I had a little freak out about him and my job. He never did give me a definitive answer. I felt like I was falling for him, and if he decided that my job was going to be a problem, I would get hurt, and I just didn't want that to happen, so I tried to force his hand. I don't know why I do this. 
   I texted him saying, "I know we still don't know each other super well, but can you just decide whether or not you'll be ok with my career choice?" 
   Why Realme? Why must you say things like this??? Ughhh. He took it like a champ though. In the most sweetest, endearing, charming way possible he told me to calm my shit down, and reminded me, "One day at a time" Yes. Ok. Right. Perspective. OK. Embarrassed. 

   I told him about my blog in our initial conversation about what I do. I thought it would answer a lot of his questions, and perhaps change any pre-conceptions he may have about my industry. I later regretted this. I didn't want him reading about the men I have sex with. This is all so new and foreign to me, I find it hard to know what's reasonable and what's not. I texted him asking him, "If I asked you not to read my blog any more, would you stop?" I have no way of knowing if he reads it or not. Blogger.com tells you what country readers come from, how they got to the site, and frequency. It doesn't draw a line between anything though. He was concerned as to why I wouldn't want him to read it. He said a bunch of things, but the main theme is honestly. I should let him decide if he is uncomfortable with reading these things, and not decide for him. Alex asked me why I keep trying to screw this thing up. I'm not! I just suck at relationships. 

   He does have one main issue with my job, and a couple days ago we did have a rather brutally honest discussion about it via Skype. (God Bless Skype) His main issue is how I can just look the other way when it comes to married men. My view of it, in a very small nutshell, is the problems these men have in their marriages started long before they came to me. He gave me a blank stare, and I told him, I'm not going to give him the answer he wants. Thankfully this is not a deal breaker for him, and I'm flying down to see him next thursday so we can get to know each other in real life. We're both soooo excited. ~blush~ This topic though is something I take seriously, and I am going to try to put my views on it together for my next blog. 

I Love My Job

Realme: Aaannd I just did yoga with a client. 

Alex: For reals?

Realme: For reals. 

Back in the Saddle Again

   Phone rings. I check it, and it's Time. Time being part of the name of the faux company I work for, time being Time's Up. 

   "Hey, Hun, I have a general for you."

   "Ok, go ahead." Aaand I'm back to work. 

Straighten hair, paint face on, steam press clothes that have been lying on the floor for a week, stock purse, double check the KY. Good to go. 

   It was weird how nervous I was. The only other call I had this month was a regular, so I feel like a newb again. He wanted me there right away, and the hotel was close. What was supposed to be an hour call, turned out to be just half an hour which is annoying because it pays squat for the same service. But, sista, this girl is broke! So I'll take what I can get. He was nice. The kind of average guy that I never talk about, cause there's really nothing to say. Can you imagine being that guy? Just that boring. I'm sure some of my readers are that guy. I'm sorry. But you probably don't know if you are though. This guy thought he was a stud. 
   "Can many guys last that long?" He asks me. 
   I almost said, "What? 20 minutes?" The words almost came out of my mouth. "As much as a cliché as it sounds it's true that everyone is different." And that's the answer I went with. I will not talk to clients about other clients. Ever. 

   Then I mis-prioritised. I'm doing a 30 day yoga challenge. Meaning yoga, every day, for thirty days. It's intense. I'm on day 9. I usually go to the 4pm classes, cause that's when Alex can go, and that's one of the least likely times to get a call. I'm on my way there and I've got my grubby work out clothes on, my hair is french braided into a ball at the base of my neck, I've washed off my make up, and I get a call. I turn it down. This was a bad move on my part. I should have turned around, driven the four blocks back home and prepared for the call. Instead I passed up on big, and much needed cash, and went to yoga. I could have gone at different time. I wasn't thinking. Bad Girl. 

   My last call was to a neighborhood known for it's yuppies. Well, I've come to know it for it's yuppies. I thought that this would be a good call. When he comes to get me in the lobby, I'm disheartened to see it's a Sweat Pants Dude. Ugh, I hate SPD's. And this guy's sweat pants are extra special. They end about six inches above the ground. Uh-huh. No part of me understands this. This man is not attractive. Part of me feels like bailing, but I'm just not that much of a bitch. My goal is just to get it over with as fast as possible. I move things along quickly, and I'm all lined up and ready, and he says, "Are we going to do this?" Uhhh... "Well, we don't have to if you don't want to." I say, pausing things. "What would you like to do?" "I'm not ready," he tells me. Mmmm, he seemed ready. "Can we just do this?" 'This' would be him lying on his back and me straddling him. "Did you want to talk?" "Ok." So we talked. For an hour. I would ask him a question, and he would give me a one word answer, and I would try to draw more questions from that or, continue on. For an hour. What did I learn from this? Compassion. 

Welcome Home

   Tomorrow is my first day back at work. I wish that I could never go back. I've been gone so long. It's funny, I think about my reluctance to go back to work, and I check myself; is it because of my job, and I don't want to do what I do, or is it because, like everyone after vacation, I just don't want to go back to work. I just don't want to go back to work! I love my job. I'm looking forward to the new people that I'm going to meet. I think that's one of my favorite things about my job is meeting cool new people all the time. But, yes, I am emotionally preparing myself for my first new client in a month to be a douche, because my heart has been so open for so long, but I'm hoping for another kindrid spirit. 

   I debated telling you about my time off and my vacation, because it is not work related, and it was quite a personal experience, but it affected me so deeply, how can I not? ~There's no 'time' in writing, you don't feel my pauses, but there was a long one there~ I spent 7 days in Nevada at a festival called Burning Man. This festival is very well known amongst my circle of friends, but I had never heard of it prior to them. It's in the middle of the desert and the premise of it is Radical Self Reliance. It's an arts festival, and a place where you can go and truly express yourself. TRULY.  And what goes along with free expression is this massive amount of love. I believe that everyone there was their truest most beautiful self. And by everyone, I mean all 50,000 of them. There were a lot of people. Take this opportunity to google Burning Man 2011. I'd post a link, but there's just too much greatness to point you in one specific direction. So that's Burning Man in a nutshell. How did it affect me? I already live with a really open heart, but at home, there are so many things that make you want to guard yourself; reading the news, angry drivers, day to day challenges where people who could help you, don't. Imagine this. Imagine someone coming into your kitchen and asking for directions, you can either help them, or not, but "Stay a while, have a beer." Imagine stopping people in the street for the soul purpose of hugging them. Imagine saying good morning to everyone you see, and mean it with all your heart. Imagine a Hi-5 with a stranger turning into a passionate kiss, never to see him again. Imagine trading your deepest darkest secret for a Bloody Mary, then having the bar tender laughing heartily at it. Then put everyone in brightly coloured costumes. Amazing. Breath taking. Utopic. Most people come in a camp (group of 10-20 people) and most camps offer something. Around thursday (day 4) I caved and went to the hair washing camp. (Worst idea for my hair, as it is naturally curely, and turned it into a somewhat clean brilo-pad) I ended up staying and washing other peoples hair for two hours. It was so beautiful. It feel so good to give back. Everyone was so grateful. I was so grateful. The only reason I left was because I needed food. Living like this for a week changed my soul. I'm hoping I can carry the ways I changed with me. It was very hard coming home. My first thought the morning I woke up was, "Whose going to hug me now." 

   I was mostly honest when people asked what I did. Not a lot of people ask, but some did. One guy whose hair I was washing asked, and I told him. His response was "Word." I don't know what that means. lol. I was biking with a friend of a friend, who was rapidly becoming a friend of mine and he asked. I told him the truth. Everyone in my circle knows anyway, and although I didn't know him that well, I figured it would only be a matter of time before he found out. AND I didn't want to lie. He was fascinated and asked all the typical questions. I have no problems with this. Everyone is super interested because they usually don't know anyone else who does it. I welcome the questions, and the conversations, and especially the jokes. But we were talking about it, and it was such a beautiful day outside and everything in my world was rosy. I cut him off mid-question, and asked if he would mind that we not talk about it. I've never not wanted to talk about it before, but at that moment things were just too perfect, who the hell wants to talk about work. 

   Aaaand I met someone. To make a long story short, there's this kind of dating camp. It's more of a pairing camp than a dating camp... well they advertise themselves as a soul mate camp... sooo... ha ha ha. Whatever. I was given the rough address of his tent, his name, and a fairly detailed (and hilarious) self-profile. ~by far my favourite part was where he said his best physical feature was his olive skin, than squished in the word lustrous above olive. I tried for over an hour to find his tent, I went from camp to camp holding up his self portrait asking people if they've seen this man. No luck. I put up a cardboard notice on the street sign by his tent telling him that he needs to find me.  Days go by and my head pops up at everyone who walks into our camp, "My soulmate?" We're having dinner and I hear my name, 
   "Yeah, she's in there..." 
   "Is it him?" I think. 
   Yes. Soooo cheesy, I know! And this dude walks in holding my cardboard sign. My thoughts, and the thoughts of all my campmates (at least according to their facial expressions) were, 'Hello!' We immediately hit it off. Of course I invited him in for dinner, and he stayed afterwards helped us take down our camp. It was like anything to be together. I hadn't felt this kind of attraction to someone in years. And I haven't had anyone feel this way about me in just as long. We spent the next 4 hours at each others side, then he had to get in his camper and leave. Burning Man was over. Everyone had to go home. 

   What does this have to do with work, you ask? Well, same as always. The lie. He asked me what I did for a living and I lied to his face. It literally hurt to do. It hurt. I wanted to tell him the truth so bad, but, "What's the point?" I told myself, "We live in different countries! Nothing is going to come of this, so why ruin this tiny bit of perfection we have together." We've been texting quite a bit in the week since we parted, and swapping photos (PC photos!) and today we were able to Skype for the first time. I had already decided that I needed to tell him. If something is to come of this, I needed to get the lies out of the way right off the bat. We talked for about 45 minutes before I was able to tell him. It's funny, I was watching the eyebrows. Whatever comes out of the mouth, the eyebrows don't usually lie. He was shocked, obviously it wasn't what he was expecting. Then he started referring to everything in the past tense, and I was just waiting for the, "You're a nice girl, but..." And it didn't come.   
   Instead he said, "If I decide to be with you, nothing is going to stop me. Not time, not geography, not anything." ...and melt. 
   If I were still on the playa, I may have cried. (The Playa is spanish for beach, what everyone called the desert where Burning Man was). And now for the disclaimer, we are not fools. We both know that it's Playa love, not real love. Playa being the place where everything is beautiful and magical, and sometimes when you get home, and reality sets in things are different. It's like when you make those great friends on vacation (well, I guess it's exactly the same.) Sometimes you get home, and you stay friends, and sometimes you wonder who this person is and what you saw in them. Anyway, we are just getting to know each other now. I will say though, he seems pretty awesome in real life too.