Category Archives: rantings

I’m Tired

I’m tired of shitty things happening in my life.

I’m tired of being treated like crap.

I’m tired of allowing myself to be treated like crap.

I’m tired of passing off bad behavior of people as “oh that’s just them.”

I’m tired of making excuses for why people act like assholes.

I’m tired of being labled as “clingy” or “needy” because I have this novel notion that someone actually pay attention to me.

I’m tired of always being the one that tries.

I’m tired of being the only one that tries.

I’m tired of my shitty ass, tiny, ridiculous apartment.

I’m tired of walking through my building and getting a contact high from everybody smoking pot.

I’m tired of living in the middle of goddamn nowhere.

I’m tired of Walmart at 8am being my only excitement in my life.

I’m tired of photographers using the “Hey I have a camera and you’re really beautiful” pick up line only to never again suggest a photoshoot.

I’m tired of applying for literally hundreds of jobs and not getting a single one.

I’m tired of making $27,000 a year and yet having a law degree and law license.

I’m tired of answering phone calls about people’s hairy shower drains, clogged toilets, and dead lightbulbs.

I’m tired of being under appreciated, under paid and under utilized at my job.

I’m tired of people not taking me seriously as a person because I’m 4’9″.

I’m tired of people calling me “thick” and “fat” because my thighs are not rail skinny.

I’m tired of not being able to walk into a goddamn shoe store and finding a shoe to fit me.

I’m tired of feeling guilty because I’m splurging on a $9 lunch or a $20 rope order.

I’m tired of having to sleep with earplugs and a sound machine on high because I have loud neighbors who don’t care that it’s 4am and I have to work.

I’m tired of feeling like I have no idea what is going on in my life.

I’m tired of saying “it is what it is” and “things will happen eventually.”

I’m tired of hiding my tattoos from my parents.

I’m tired of feeling like I constantly have to please someone else only to please myself.

I’m tired of living so far away from my boyfriend.

I’m tired of living so far away from my Daddy.

I’m tired of having to tapdance around specific topics with specific people because they’re not strong enough to actully face things head on.

I’m tired of having to censor myself.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m the karmic joke of the universe.

I’m tired of not being able to afford the things I want.

I’m tired of being the afterthought.

I’m tired of my shitty ass shower that never drains properly.

I’m tired of losing my hair at 26.

I’m tired of being gluten intolerant and not being able to eat 95% of the things I love and crave.

I’m tired of spending $4.95 on Nerf football-sized loafs of bread.

I’m tired of having to hide my kink activities from my parents.

I’m tired of people saying goodbye to me by just ceasing to talk to me.

I’m tired of being the butt of people’s jokes.

I’m tired of having little children scream “Mommy, she’s little!” when I’m out at stores.

I’m tired of being dragged to church on holidays and told how I’m going to burn in hell if I don’t believe in the Catholic church.

I’m tired of listening to Fox News and Rush Limbaugh constantly when I’m at home with my mother.

I’m tired of not having room in my tiny apartment to put all my shoes.

I’m tired of people not appreciating me for the damn good person I am.

I’m tired of constantly striving to do the right thing and have it flung back in my face.

I’m tired of having anxiety attacks over every little thing.

I’m tired of being the only one at work for 3 hours because my stupid coworker can’t haul her lazy ass out of bed to be there when our office opens.

I’m tired of being “good old dependable Isabel.”

I’m tired of being told I’m too this and too that.

I’m tired of expressing interest in someone and having them run away in abject fear.

I’m tired of always being told that I have to be good.

I’m tired of letting fear hold me back.

I’m tired of being frustrated and stymied about the lack of progress in my life.

I’m tired of being left out.

I’m tired of assholes being assholes.

I’m tired of emotions fucking over my life.

I’m tired of my head fucking over my life.

I’m tired of not getting what I want.

I’m tired of being tired of all of these things

Frustration (AKA the post in which I rant about personal responsibility)

I posted previously at my blog about how amused I was at the endless tirade of self affecting posts I’ve seen on Fetlife but I think I’ve passed the amusement phase and now have moved into my frustrated phase. While I haven’t read every comment and every piece people have had to say (mostly because I, you know, have a life, a job and a desire not to gouge my eyes out), I have stumbled through the highlights and lowlights.

Let me be the first to say congratulations. My fellow Chicago kinksters have started a serious and necessary open dialogue about an important topic. You’ve caused us all to stop and question ourselves, our actions and our interactions.

That’s about where my congratulations end. Here’s where my rant begins. When I first “joined” the kink community, I felt like I was wearing a scarlet “N” for newbie. Perhaps it was just the company I kept, but I felt preyed upon now looking back at it. I felt uncomfortable. I felt like I was being taken advantage of. I didn’t know any better and I was horribly naive. I trusted people I shouldn’t have, opened up to people who later turned on me, and found myself hurt beyond words when spilling my heart and soul out backfired.

I did a lot of things I wished I hadn’t. There’s still things I wish I could go back and redo mostly because I’m not proud of the decisions I made and the things I agreed to. I let the excitement of “HOLY SHIT! You can do that?!” overwhelm my sense of self and sense of what was right for me. That’s one of the things I forgot – I had nobody to look out for me except me. I figured older, wiser (ha!), and more experienced people had my back and wouldn’t do anything for, with and to me that I wasn’t ready for. I will never point fingers, name names or call those people titles that they don’t deserve. Why? Because I take personal responsibility for my own actions. Don’t get me wrong – I do believe said persons deserve “blame” for their part in my undoing but I played my part as well.

Not many of you know that in October of 2010 I went a little crazy. I had a bit of a breakdown. Why? Because I put my heart out there and had it flung back at me. I was under attack for expressing myself. I was idealistic and thought that if I expressed what I held in my heart, nothing bad would happen. Oh how little I knew of the world. Turns out it was the ammunition some people needed to fling mud in my face and make me the social pariah at the time. In the span of a few hours I went from having friends to feeling like I was under attack from all sides. I withdrew almost completely from all forms of kink. I didn’t play. I didn’t talk. I didn’t fuck. I didn’t even damn well touch anybody for almost 16 months.

It was in those 16 months that I truly learned that there is absolutely one person in the world I could trust – me. There is ONE person who will and must look out for me at all times – me. If I couldn’t trust myself to do that, there would be no hope of ever trusting anybody else.

There is an inherent power dynamic in what we do as kinksters. That can’t be denied. There will always be someone who holds more power and someone who holds less. Should that more powerful person bear more burden of protecting the less powerful person? Of course. To say any different would be to undermine the entire power exchange relationship. But to say that more powerful person bears the entire burden is to throw the idea of personal responsibility completely out the window. Perhaps I am advocating for an antiquated notion; perhaps I am “past my prime.” I don’t really care.

This is my form of therapy. This is my solace. I did things I’m not proud of. I did things I wouldn’t advocate anybody do. I said yes to things I probably should have said no to. Maybe I’m the one seeking forgiveness for my sins. All I know is I’ve come to peace with my past and I’ve become a better person for it. I’ve become a more responsible person for it.

Bravery comes in many forms. I’ve seen lots of it in my life. I could list examples of it until I’m blue and still wouldn’t even touch the surface of it. I will say this though – bravery is admitting when you’re wrong and trying to make amends for it. Bravery is using those past wrongs to be a better, stronger, more responsible person and moving on with new purpose and conviction. That’s what I aim to do every day.

Say what you want about me. I’ve turned my corner and I refuse to look back.

BDSM is serrrrrrrious bizzzness!

For the last week or so, I’ve watched with amused fascination at the non-stop barrage of incredibly philosophical and self-effecting posts fly by on my Fetlife feed. I don’t know if something happened to warrant such deep soul-searching posts and discussions of blame, victim shaming, and issues of consent, but something tells me I am way out of the loop in general. Actually, that’s just fine with me.

I don’t really want to be apart of those discussions even if I have something to say. I’d rather sit back with a bucket of popcorn and a finely mixed adult beverage and watch the fur fly, so to speak. You know why? Because one thing I’ve noticed among all these posts is the fact that everybody acts like BDSM and the life those in it lead are beyond the most serious thing ever. Don’t get me wrong – for a lot of the people involved in these discussions, these issues are very serious. I’m not discounting their experiences, whether good or bad, at all so don’t think I am. If something non-consensual happens to a person, whether to them or by them, I agree 100% that those events should be discussed and evaluated to determine if and where the blame may lie.

That being said, the whole thing has me totally amused. For a lot of people I know, BDSM and all things related to it is what we do for fun. We have high stress, demanding jobs and lives and often times want to get away from those issues we face 9-5. When I put on my “leather” or my slinky clothes, I don’t do it so I can sit there and have deep philosophical discussions about issues much larger and grander than myself. I consider them before hand, when I’m wearing my TOMS and leggings. I put my two cents in and then step away. I certainly don’t want to get embroiled in a debate where I could make an ass of myself, whether purposefully or inadvertently.

If there’s one thing I’ve noticed about 90% of the BDSM community is that quite a few of them take the whole thing way too seriously. As the old saying goes, “they can’t see the forest from the trees.” There is a larger picture to consider and one that I propose should include some laughs and giggles. Some of the best times I’ve ever had were laughing with people about random, crazy shit that has happened to us in the course of our play over the years. Dominants or tops do not need to be scary, mean and intense 24/7. Submissives or bottoms should not be cowering in the corner with welts on their backside and eye makeup running down their face (women or men!)

BDSM can and should include a great majority of lightness and spirit. I’m a person full of laughter and I want that to be reflected in my personal life. I don’t want to have headaches about issues much greater and larger than myself unless absolutely necessary. I come to BDSM to get away from those things. The release from my thoughts is what I seek, not delving into them deeper.

Like I said before, there’s a time and place for everything. Should serious issues be discussed, both privately and publicly? Of course. For me though, I’ll prop my feet up and dive into that popcorn until I feel the need to chip in. I have enough seriousness in my life, thank you. BDSM is my diversion from that seriousness and I suspect I’m not alone in that feeling.

Porn, Politics and the Smart Slut

For many years now I’ve encountered a curious phenomena that seems to follow me wherever I go. It is this strange idea of the “smart slut.” Over on my Twitter account (@TheUcKinkster) my 140 character blurbs encompass pretty much every topic one could think of. I talk about my work, my pets, my kinks, my shopping, my shoes, my life and my comments on pop culture. I’ve been very candid about my journey through higher education and my struggles with getting through the bar exam.

It’s something I’m very proud of – that I’ve worked my way through 19 straight years of school and come out on the other side with a bachelor of science in business management and a juris doctorate. I’ve invested a lot of time and energy into educating myself and as such consider myself “smarter” than the average person. I put that in quotes because much like everything, smarts are all relative. There are many people much less educated than me that I feel dumber than and there are people much more educated that I feel smarter than. On the whole though, I’ve used my education to define myself and it shapes a lot of my views on the world.

I have found though that when I go to express opinions about relevant political debates or make intellectual comments, I encounter a wave of responses varying from “no one cares what you think” to “shut up and show us your tits.” Certainly there are people that find my opinions, whether based on my education or not, interesting and engage me in a lively intellectual conversation about them, but there are always those people who basically respond that I shouldn’t be expressing my opinions about educated matters because I am in the same breath talking about my love of kink and sex.

I find it interesting that there is this stigma about being a “smart slut.” That somehow because I’m a sexual woman, not just a sexual person, other people cannot view me as smart at the same time as they view me as sexual. That’s like saying I have to shut down that part of my self because I’ve chosen to be very “out” with my sexuality. Thanks, but no thanks. Those parts of my personality and my intellect are not something I want to cut out of my life. I’ve chosen to work on them through many years of strict intellectual work and study. 

There have been rumblings of this and similar dichotomies for years now. Doing a web search for “porn stars with degrees” yields such lovely results as Yahoo question postings of Why would anyone with a college degree become a porn star?” It’s almost a laughable question to me. Just because one is educated doesn’t mean they’re also not into sex. A prerequisite for getting a higher degree is most definitely not having to turn off your sex drive. There are some seriously smart porn stars out there, Nina Hartley being one of my idols in terms of activism and efforts to educate the public on sex. If you’ve followed anything about the recent push by the state of California to mandate condom use in all porn production, you’ve probably heard of Bobbi Starr‘s several posts about the topic in response to CalOSHA’s proposed plans. She is one seriously smart porn star if I’ve ever seen one. Try telling them to turn off their brains and just fuck. Let me tell you, that isn’t going to fly.

A corollary debate that has gone on for years is the idea that mothers cannot be sexual creatures. Sure, we have such awesome labels and categories as “MILFs” but it seems like any woman past the age of 25 is grouped in the MILF category regardless of what should be the most important requirement to be apart of such a group – actually having children. Once a female porn performer stops being able to realistically pull off the “barely legal” look she almost instantly is grouped in with the “mature” performers. There have been recent debates about what constitutes a healthy mixture of mother and sex goddess, from such industry leaders as Madison Young and her controversial project “Becoming MILF.” Regardless of what side of the debate you fall on, there didn’t seem to be much disagreement that a woman can be both a mother and a sexual creature. The debate came in as to what mixture and what venues mixing the two would be appropriate. While I agree with statements on both sides, I think that both sides make a similar valid point – nobody is limited to being just one thing.

When I express my political opinions and feelings, I find I encounter even more resistance and only end up getting frustrated. Instead of having an open debate and acknowledging that my views may differ from someone else’s, I receive shock that I could possibly be …. conservative! It’s almost a dirty word in modern American politics now to associate yourself with the party of George W. Bush. Do I agree with all its views and dogma? Goodness no. There is nothing written in stone that someone has to fall in line perfectly with the party line. To me, the idea of conservatism is the idea of limited governmental interference in a person’s life. Social morality has sadly polluted the idea of political conservatism. Legislating morality is about as successful as the most famous example in history – the 18th Amendment, also known as Prohibition.

Politics is not a topic inherently off limits to those inclined to the sexual side of things. When Mary Carey ran for governor of California, people balked at the idea of a porn star (gasp!) intruding into a serious political race. That’s just stupid to me. That’s like saying mechanical engineers are not allowed at all to talk about interior decorating or lawyers not being allowed to be involved in fashion. Putting topical limits on someone without a logical basis just doesn’t make sense to me. Provide me with a soundly reasoned basis for such prohibitions and while I may debate you on it, I will respect your opinion and perhaps even agree with you if the reasoning is sound enough.

There will always be people who think that a sexual woman should shut her mouth and not express an opinion about anything. There will always be people who think women once becoming a mother should essentially shut down their sexuality except for future procreation. There will always be people who want to keep any mention of sex or porn out of politics despite the topic of sex somehow always showing up in every political race. Mentalities like that, once set in stone, are hard to change. My challenge to the world is this – maybe we should rethink those mentalities.

Musings on sex and intimacy

Am I just a dreamer? Am I too unrealistic in my views of relationships and sex? Is it too naive of me to think that people should equate sex with intimacy and intimacy with emotion? I just think it’s really shitty that sex has lost its intimacy. In our hyper sexual society, sex has become a commodity. It has become little more than something that we trade without thinking. I’m just as guilty as the next person of separating the two, but I’ve found lately that I prefer them tightly knit. What gets me most excited is the possibility of no sex at all, and instead just cuddling. Those are the most exciting things for me. Just being together and holding hands and all the stuff we’ve seem to forgotten on the light speed quest towards sexual liberation.

Does the average man not cuddle any more? Is intimacy in society a lost art form? It’s certainly seeming like that to me lately.