Tag Archives: johns

Where did all the men go?

One thing I have noticed since “discontinuing” my old blog and starting this new one is that there has been a subtle, but very distinct, change in my readership. All my readers now appear to be female (well, at least the ones who leave comments on a regular basis)!

Part of me doesn’t mind this at all. I don’t really have any good friends of any gender in this town, unfortunately, (besides my husband, of course) and I really miss female company given that I spend nearly ALL my time with men. It’s nice to come here and feel like I’m part of a little female community.


On the other hand, I never really set out to write exclusively for a female audience, and it’s kind of depressing that all the men have disappeared. It disappoints me to think that they were perhaps only interested in my last blog because I was much more open about being a sex worker, and they were hoping to be titillated. I have definitely noticed that other “out” sex worker bloggers also tend to attract more male readers who, it would seem, are either johns themselves or simply voyeurs. Some of them still leave intelligent, articulate comments (paying for sex, or fantasizing about it, doesn’t make you a moron, after all), but it just saddens me to think that it takes the mention of sex to draw men into a blog which would otherwise be “women-centred”.

Fuck it, though. I can’t write anything else about this topic because an “Air” song has come on the radio and a huge wave of melancholy has washed over me. I don’t remember the title but what I do remember is falling in love to this song. I remember the great wine, the great sex, the plumes of smoke from a joint rising up into the darkened room as we drank each other in, and listened to the music.

There were so many songs I couldn’t listen to after that relationship was over because the pain wracked my body when I did. It was awful because a lot of them were by my favourite artists. The only way I could “reclaim” these songs was by forcing myself to listen to them and “desensitizing” myself.

I guess I forgot this one. And here I am, eight years later, aching all over again.

The sad thing was that it wasn’t love. The sex wasn’t great. It was passionate, yes, but there was so much missing. He was an incredibly emotionally distant man, and it was the most abusive relationshp I’ve ever had.

The even sadder thing is that falling in love with him was such a heady, intense experience, and nothing else has ever come close. How depressing that the most important moment of my emotional life was actually a love affair which took place mainly in my head.

Maybe it’s good all the men have gone. Clearly, I can’t be trusted to make good decisions about them.


Little dog with a limp

running dog I’ve just come back from a run, and as I came in the gate of my house, a little dog with a limp ran past on the street. This is the third time I’ve seen this dog in the last ten days or so, which, given that it’s running about by itself at all hours without a collar, or an owner, would make you think that it’s a stray. I don’t think it is, though. It’s pretty fat and looks well-cared-for but, most importantly, it’s a dog with a fucking mission. You never see him idling away his time with sad, puppy-dog eyes, hoping some kind-hearted stranger will take him in. Oh no! He’s always running down the street, looking like he’s got somewhere very important to go. I’ve tried talking to him to see if he needs any help, but he always turns around, without even breaking stride, and gives me a “Whatever!” look. Hmmm.

My run was brilliant, especially because it’s been raining, and it’s so lovely and cool outside. When the weather is this mild, it’s like I’m floating through the air when I’m running. I used to go running late at night all the time, but this year I just got out of the habit. It’s probably a good thing, too, as it’s not good to get your body all psyched up at night when you should be trying to get ready for bed. If I could make myself go to bed earlier, I’d go running first thing in the morning, but I’m rarely able to do that. Whenever I have done it, I feel great, though! There is no better way to start the day than with a run. I always feel energized and invincible!

I have run three marathons, but I’m pretty bored of road running these days, and I have barely run at all this summer. I’ve decided to try something different, and so I’ve signed up for a trail running course that starts on Saturday. The goal is to train for a trail race early next year. There are three distance options (25K, 50K and 100K) and, since I’m a masochist and incredibly competitive, I want to do the longest one. I know I can do it. I love trail running. It’s so beautiful being out in nature instead of on some fucking boring suburban road. Trail runners are also more fun than marathon runners; for some reason, marathon runners are all white, over-privileged, Type A, obsessive, neurotic, control freaks with such empty lives that running becomes their everything; some trail runners can be like that, too, but for the most part they’re a bit grittier and don’t take themselves so seriously.

Today was much better than yesterday. It started off very badly with my noon session cancelling on me at the last minute. I cried onto my keyboard at this point because I just couldn’t have handled another day of sitting at home and making no money. Things did pick up later, however, and I saw two clients. They were even nice, which was such a relief, as I was depressed and couldn’t have faced dealing with any bullshit. The first one was a single dad with full-time custody of his kid. Apparently the mother is now a speed addict. Some people think guys who see sex workers are scum (and, well, some of them definitely have issues), but who can really blame a guy like this for his choices? Working full-time and then looking after his little girl, he probably barely has time to masturbate nevermind find some woman to date and have socially acceptable sex with! The second one was a pleasant but very dim-witted twenty-six-year-old who had apparently just dumped his fiancée in July even though they were supposed to be getting married at the start of September. He seemed very insouciant about this. He said his ex was a lazy bitch but couldn’t he have figured this out sooner instead of waiting until the last minute?! This guy was probably a complete arse, but he was so young and dumb that passing some moral judgement on his behaviour would be akin to passing moral judgement on a chimpanzee.

Ah, yes…feeling in a much better mood tonight. Why on earth did I stop running so much this summer?! I know it’s vital for my mental health.

I have become a boring person

I’m sitting at my desk right now, wondering what the fuck to write about. This is quite a disconcerting feeling, and I don’t know why I feel this way. It’s partly, I think, because nobody seems to be reading this blog, and, well, that’s hardly a surprise, as it’s only been in existence for about three days. It makes sense that nobody is out there but, at the same time, it bothers me. As I said yesterday, I miss my old blogging community, and I wonder whether I’ll ever be able to build up a decent readership again. There’s also still no sign of Arekino. Sigh.

I’m also not so sure about having moved over to WordPress from Blogger. Sure, WordPress is more “professional”, but it’s unnecessarily complicated in my opinion (I can’t find any way to change the font from yucky Times New Roman to Ariel…C’mon! That shouldn’t be hard!), and I don’t know how I feel about the background. Coffee Yoghurt says she likes it, and, yes, it is pretty, but I don’t know if this vintage floral thing is really me. I fucking hate floral patterns, and the only reason I don’t entirely hate this one is because it’s not all cutesy and girly. I wouldn’t have chosen it at all for my blog if it weren’t for the fact that it was the only one that suited the name (Petrichor is, by the way, my all time favourite word. It just reminds me of home…). Oh, if only I had the time to learn CSS, so I could make this blog look exactly the way I want it to.

I also worry that I have nothing to write about because, quite simply, I have become a boring person. Of course, lots of new, exciting events have occurred in my life since I last appeared in the blogosphere (getting married was one of them…more about that in a later post) but, ultimately, my life has become quite boring. I started an alternative teacher certification program in January (again, more about this later), and the assignments took up a lot of my time. The program was/is totally crap, and there is only one teacher who hates my guts (the feeling is pretty much mutual). I have spent a great deal of time – too much time – obsessing about this woman’s attitude towards me and whether she will kick me out of the program. Well, she didn’t but she certainly made life very difficult for me.

Whenever Midwestern Man and I would spend any time together all I could talk about was my teaching course. I finally began to realize that this was all I talked about not merely because I was worried about my teaching career, but because I just don’t do anything interesting anymore that would merit discussion. Besides Midwestern Man, I still have no true friends in this town. In my defence, I haven’t become of those pitiful women who neglects their friends to hang out with their man….I just very rarely meet anybody with whom I want to spend more time. As I complained about ad nauseum in “that other blog”, I have found that Americans don’t really go in for deep, meaningful friendships. They keep everything on the surface, and I’m not one who can be bothered to make superficial chit-chat.

Continuing to work as a sensual masseuse has also eaten away at my soul, I think. In this economy, getting a handjob is not exactly the biggest priority for many men, so it has become harder and harder to make ends meet. I haven’t really been checking other sex worker blogs to see if those women are experiencing a similar trend, so I don’t know if I’m the only one who’s struggling. To be honest, I’ve never really attracted a lot of clients because (1) I barely advertize at all (no websites for me, not even any pictures) in an attempt to be as anonymous as possible and (2) I only offer a “happy ending” with no extras. The truth of the matter is that most men are looking for more. What I offer is great conversation, a genuinely sensual time (I never rush) and a sincere curiosity about my clients and their lives. I have found that I’m a hit with men who maybe haven’t been around a woman for a long time and just miss female company, and female touch, but if someone is looking for me to be some kind of sex bomb fantasy figure, then they will be sorely disappointed.

I’ve let myself get into a very lazy routine as far as massage is concerned. You know, I don’t hate it, but I do hate doing it full-time, and I’m badly in need of a change. As a result, I hardly wake up every morning with a spring in my step (or should that be wrist?! Ha ha!). I have been putting off starting work for as long as possible, sometimes not even getting round to working until the evening. This would be OK if I was spending the time before work being productive but instead I’ve just been sitting around, looking at pointless crap on the internet and thinking guiltily to myself “Hmmm, really should be thinking about starting work now”. I never get anything done, so last week I decided that a change must come!

I have decided to start work at noon and finish at 6:00 p.m. If a guy gives me advance notice that he wants an earlier or later session, then okay, I’ll see what I can do, but, otherwise, the hours before noon and after 6:00 p.m. are mine! I also need to take more days off per week, as I had started to “work” (in a half-assed way) every single fucking day. It’s very possible that I will starve to death by having such limited work hours but, you know what, if that happens, well, I’ll just take it as a sign that the universe doesn’t want me to do massage anymore.

I’m excited about my new, more disciplined, lifestyle. I’m excited to be back blogging (even if nobody is reading)!

I think everything just might be OK!