the conference: day 3

Today was the official first day of the Desiree Alliance conference.

I woke up at my usual time and got online, hoping not to disturb Jill. She woke up anyway and we started chatting, which means my e-mail got short shrift. I convinced her to go to breakfast with me (if I’d known how sick she was feeling, I probably would’ve forced her to stay in bed). I made sure to gather everything I’d need for my presentation today and plenty of books. I was just resigned to pain on the walk to the conference building.

We arrived a little later than I wanted, but everyone was running a few minutes behind. Lots of people were there and plenty of mingling. I realized the folly of not having anyone to sit behind the table where my book was displayed in order to sell it. I had to try and track people down. No one recognized me from my author photo (different hair – I guess it’s a Clark Kent thing). Lesson learned.

Jessica kept asking me if I was nervous about my presentation that afternoon. No, strangely, I wasn’t. It didn’t hit me until the moment I stood up in front of the room with my speech notes in my hand.

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the conference: day 2

I woke up at my usual time and answered e-mails, which of course included stuff that would be best handled from my home office. This sort of emergency stuff never happens when I’m actually at home. Only the very few times a year I’m away from my desk.

The night before I’d practiced one of my speeches, so this morning I practiced the other short one. My long one was going to have wait. I felt I knew my material pretty well at this point, but perhaps I wasn’t really paying attention to what was coming out of my mouth.

Today was St. James Infirmary Fantasy Sex Me Academy. I still don’t get the title, but okay. It was the Whore College re-named. It was a day-long seminar of presentations to sex workers. I was hoping to learn new things, meet new people (sell books!) and do some market research on the sly. Armed with directions from Yahoo! Maps, I began my morning walk.

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the conference: day 1

For the first time in my life, I attended a professional conference – meaning one that dealt with my work. Last week was the West Coast Convergence which was the meeting of a lot of sex work –related happenings. There was Sex Worker Fest, SWOP national meeting (I’m a board member of SWOP-East), St. James Infirmary’s Fantasy Sex Me Academy and the Desiree Alliance 2007 Conference.

Although I have a few quibbles, what I came away with was a profound feeling of love and acceptance. I’m still high from it (and I didn’t partake of anything stronger than champagne on my last night). My small-publisher meetings chronicled on here do not compare and must’ve happened on another plane of existence entirely.

So, my first day. I arrive in SF Tuesday (7/17) about noon, just in time to miss SWOP’s big rally. I had hoped to attend since I’ve never done this sort of thing before, but it was not to be. I walk to the SWOP meeting place, which of course means I got lost and walk an extra mile or so – carrying a heavy bag (I didn’t bring my backpack because I somehow thought it would look dorkier than my crooked back and slumped shoulder as I carry a 20lb bag my right hand).

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update: strip clubs and the $2 bill

I wrote about strip clubs using the $2 bill and its effect on the US Bureau of Engraving and Printing (the Mint).

According to a Newsweek article this week about the declining use of actual currency, notes that in 2006, all US currency totaled $784 billion with an estimated $400 billion in actual circulation. This article also stated that in 2007, the government will print about 9.1 billion individual bills, 95% to replace worn currency.

According to the article referenced in my previous post, in 2005 the orders for $2 bills totaled $122 million (and the number is expected to rise). That’s not a significant percentage of the amount of currency in circulation, but I’m betting it’s a significant percentage of the bills to be printed. I wish I had access to all the numbers and information I want to be able to accurately determine the effect of the adult industry on the US Mint, but that probably won’t happen.

It’s fun to speculate, though.

after the fact (stripping)

People often want to know how stripping and escorting affected me. I think I have enough distance from both to be able to begin to answer the question. Since stripping came first, this post is first.

The immediate effects of stripping were obvious: crippling knee problems, back aches, secondhand smoke, plenty of firsthand smoking, too much drinking, constant colds and coughs. And because I was never a good hustler, the constant rejection ruined my self-confidence. I was just too real in the clubs, too much myself. I never built the armor some other girls seemed to have. Of course, I also met plenty of girls who had the same problems I had. Stripping is not a job for everyone. (In escort work, my realness was an asset, not a liability.)

On the plus side, I was in great shape without having to work out and my skin was perfect all the time because of my constant care. I was the master of small talk, could out-dance anyone in a regular nightclub and learned a lot about music and rhythm. I loved having my daytime free.

I went right from stripping into escort work. Still, some things from stripping stay with me.

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