The juicy details of my personal life or thoughts. (As juicy as it gets around here anyway.)
I’ve been trying to fit these two conversations into some sort of context since they occurred but there really isn’t one. What I’m about to relate isn’t going to be news to any female readers and likely will echo sentiments that some male readers believe. All I can say is that both of these conversations made an impression. Not always a good thing.
“Ode to Instant Gratification” by Guerilla Haiku Movement, is licensed under CC BY 2.0
Reading a self-help book that I unpacked (back when I was unpacking my stored stuff), I ran across the disparaging phrase “instant-gratification relationship,” which was lumped together with such things as drug abuse and alcoholism. Such relationships weren’t mentioned again in that book (which I have since donated). Looking online shows that some people use this phrase but not many.
What got me started was simply wondering what defines an instant-gratification relationship? Sex, apparently. There is no other definition, though there should be. Or maybe another euphemism should be chosen.
Of course this assumes the sole point to a “relationship” is sex. Naturally, one would expect my proud assertion that I’m in the professional instant-gratification business. That’s true…and not true. The relationships my clients (and those of many of my friends) yearn for are hardly instant, they require time to build.
Then I think about the traditional marriage, or even the traditional romantic relationship. Hardly instant-gratification by anyone’s standards. In fact, to hear the partners in these relationships speak about them — hardly any gratification at all. So what if I want instant-gratification from someone whom I’ve decided is going to be exactly that? They have every right to deny me gratification if it’s not for them and I have every right to find it elsewhere.
“Interior of a Hong Kong Pizza Hut” by me
After reading Blake’s fun post on food photography, I’ve pondered just how much I’ve photographed my meals.
That would be once: for StuffSexWorkersEat. Not only did I forget to take my camera to breakfast several days in a row, when I did finally bring it, I forgot not to eat my food before taking the momentous picture. A food photographer I am not. I felt even more furtively creepy taking pictures of my unsuspecting, innocent meal than I do taking pictures of people who willingly pose for my camera.
I have photographed a few menus, like at the mango dessert shop and Pizza Hut, both in Hong Kong. I’ve sometimes taken pictures of the interior of a restaurant, for various reasons. But the food? I just eat it.
The first time I ate at Enso Kitchen I wished I had brought my camera, but my friend kindly took photos with her phone and later emailed them to me so I could have a memory of that meal. Honestly, every meal there was photo-worthy, but I never again asked for documentation.
“Day of Silence” by Bryan, is licensed under CC BY 2.0
I really didn’t think I was going to have to flail away on this topic again, but it seems I must. Michael (Mike) Meisenbach has hired John Brewington (an Arizona-licensed PI) to track down and harass anyone who has supported Shannon.
I received notices of ICANN violations on 12/30/13, seems someone took issue with the public contact info I have for several domains of mine (the info has been updated). Not to mention they managed to crash the server of one of my sites, something my web host was not happy with. Fortunately, I can now provide my host with more information on who caused the crash, along with a link to a court document which details these as the preferred harassment tactics of Brewington. But I’ve no doubt the harassment will go further after this posting. If nothing else, I have two confirmed, very loyal blog-readers.
Anyone who has written about Shannon being violently attacked by Michael (Mike) Meisenbach should keep reading. Mikey and John Brewington want to out you and cause you harm.
“Limp Noodle” by spinnerin, is licensed under CC BY 2.0
This story has been building for the past year but only now do I feel free to talk about it. It’s not pretty and will likely make men uncomfortable. Never fear — if you don’t harm women, then don’t identify with Michael Meisenbach.
With something bad happening, of course.