Loving Morty Diamond

I have no time to write anything else. Got home yesterday. Fly to Chicago tomorrow. Hopefully catch my flight home - will have less than an hour to get to the airport and get on the plane. Will be carrying dildos in my bag, which I’m sure will just help me breeze through security. Thursday day - meeting with big woman’s magazine. Thursday night - drive out to my parents to return the car I’ve borrowed for the past two weeks just so I could go to Delaware and DC. Fly to Mexico Friday. Return again next Tuesday, but leave for Missouri on Saturday. Have a number of writing deadlines. Have a number of other deadlines. Insert bitch. Insert moan. Insert get a fucking life, I’m complaining about vacations and luxury problems.

Okay. I’m sorry.

I do love Morty Diamond!


The Brazilian

I’m procrastinating. Actually that’s only half true. A British film crew should be here in half an hour to talk to me about the moral debate surrounding America’s pornography industry. Sometimes I don’t think it’s so moral. Sometimes I picture it as two little children throwing sand from opposite ends of the box. One says, “I’m right,” and the other says, “I’m right,” and they both wind up with sand in their mouths.

Now - The Brazilian. I never thought I’d get so carried away. I never thought I’d let it go this far. During the filming of Candida Royalle‘s “Under the Covers” last month, when I knew I would be exposing my bare bottom for the world to see, or at least for the cast and crew of “Under the Covers” to see, I knew that if I was going to expose myself, I was going to get rid of the hair in my ass. It sometimes grosses me out to talk about the fact that I have hair in my ass, but then I think that we all have hair in our asses, and I don’t feel so bad. Still, I didn’t want to see it on film, so I went to get it waxed out of me.

I went to this really nice lady, Niki, who also happens to thread my brow - which is like using dental floss to remove hair, but it works - and I told her I was ready to take the plunge. Only I wasn’t really fully ready to commit. She told me ripping the hair off my lips would hurt the most, so I told her not to do it. Instead she gave me a nice bikini wax, and took the hair out of my ass. I was satisfied, but still curious.

I’m doing a lot of traveling over the next few weeks. Between traveling and working I hardly have time for anything else. Since this weekend is camping, and next weekend is Mexico, I decided that this past Tuesday would be Brazil(ian). It had to be Tuesday, because that’s the only day that Niki works. And Niki’s so nice and gentle, I wouldn’t let just anybody get their hands on my hoo-hoo. I go back to Niki. She remembers me. Recites off the list of things I want done. We finish the face. She makes me wait. I’m getting more nervous as she flosses another girl

Masturbate in May

What’s up with these turtles?

Did you hear me on “The Romaine Show” last night? Just asking…

It’s almost over, but it is Masturbation May. If you’ve got a hot masturbation story, you could win a prize, just click on Eros Boutique to find out more.

Self love is super sexy, so is mutual masturbation. Tonight if you can, go home and masturbate for your partner while they masturbate for you. Watch them stroke themselves or rub their nub, and don’t forget to make eye contact. It’s just a thought, but a yummy, delicious one nonetheless. Have you ever noticed how many people use words like yummy and delicious when talking about sex? Obviously I just did it too, but I’m now calling myself out on it.

Also, I’m writing a book and I need FEMALE responses. I’ve got a load of questions to ask you about WOMEN LOVING WOMEN. If you have stories you want to share, it could be anonymous, or first names only, I’d love to hear them. I can also email you the list of questions I’m asking, just drop me a line - jamyew@gmail.com, and let me know that I can send you the letter and list.

And I’m available for all your sexy summer parties. Not as a guest, well, I’m available for that too, cause everybody loves a party, but since now tis the season for bachelorette parties, you can talk to me about doing a private shindig in your hood. And then I get to meet you too. Okay, I’m done self loving for the day. At least this form of self love. But, odds are, not in the other.

What’s goin’ on.

Just got back from Washington DC, a place where the license plates read “Taxation without Representation.” While there, I attended the largest convention I’ve ever attended, it’s called the Book Expo of America and I was completely blown away and, at times, mildly overwhelmed. And then I couldn’t decide:

Bill Murray or Jim Belushi?

At first I really thought it was Bill Murray. I pontificated if I should approach him and explain that I never fully got that translation movie, and that I didn’t understand what all they hype was about. But I totally loved that Steve Zizou movie, or whatever it was called. Only thing is he was constantly being bombarded by fans, so I decided to snap this shot and stay away. An hour later I was walking down one of the myriad of book aisles when I saw an ad for a new Jim Belushi book. It was then that I realized that this guy looked an awful lot like Bill Murray. And then I got all confused. What had been a cool “close encounter” became a not as cool but still okay possiblility. Had I indeed snapped a shot of Belushi? Or was it really Murray? I showed some people later that night. They were all pretty sure it was Belushi. They were all pretty astonished that I even thought it could be Murray. I’m still not sure I know for certain. But I do know that it’s easy to mix up Bill Murray and Jim Belushi. I also brushed by Amy Sedaris, who rocks and looks so cute in hoop dresses. And got to say hello to Violet Blue, as it has been almost two years since I’ve run in to her, and she is, in my opinion, the best sex writer out there. Her new book, Fetish Sex, looks hot and well written (I mean, I just said she’s the best sex writer out there).

While in DC I also introduced my new lover to a former flame. Well, he was also a co worker, and a friend, but for a brief period of time, in fact a briefer period of time than even I remembered, we had gotten naked and did stuff to each other that young children are no longer allowed to learn about in school. I hadn’t seen him in years. It was great and, in some ways strange, as two totally polar opposite worlds suddenly collided. And he had a girlfriend too. And maybe all Jewish girls look alike, at least on the East Coast, because she had dark eyes and curly brown hair and it freaked me out that we had similar physical traits. It’s like all of a sudden you know somebody’s type, and you fit the mold perfectly. I, on the other hand, don’t have a type. Although I guess lately I’ve like my men with lighter hair, not as in less heavy or not as much of it, but as in blonde or red headed. But I can’t say I have a type. Although maybe I just did.

I can say that Playgirl has changed their wesbite. It’s much more of a paysite these days, but my podcasts are still free. It looks pretty cool, and there’s a new podcast up here.

Also, tomorrow night I’m cohosting the Derek and Romaine Show on Sirius OutQ. Seriously. Check us out.

And it’s official. I’ve graduated with my Masters in Sex Education. Only took 4.5 years. YEAH!

Call for Couples

I think you’ve already heard this one before, but since I’ve been granted more time, it bears repeating. And since it’s not all that exciting to some of you, I’ve decided to put this picture up too. It’s just a tease, y’see…

Hello friends, family and fellow countrymen and countrywomen,

It is I, Jamye Waxman, and feeling the need to pick your brains yet one more time, I am sending out this fairly urgent request. I am still looking for 2

13 Questions

Things I often wonder:

1. Why do we have cat years and dog years? If a dog lives 20 years, then he lived 20 years, not something like (20 x 7) or 140 years. Who came up with cat years and dog years anyway?

2. Is it better to be complacent or constantly changing?

3. How many people have ever met an alien? How many people believe those people?

4. Why wasn’t I born with one of those super speedy metabolisms?

5. How cool is it that we can fly in really heavy machines?

6. How many children ever think about growing up to work in the sex industry?

7. Whatever happened to Big Fiji and Little Fiji and the rest of the Glorious Ladies of Wrestling (GLOW)?

8. If I could have a big train running through my house, like Ricky Shroeder did in Silver Spoons, would I want one? Or would that just make me lazy?

9. How long is the Williamsburg Bridge, and why don’t I just look it up?

10. Am I too aggressive in some ways and not aggressive enough in others? Am I really who I think I am? Or am I someone else entirely?

11. Is there life after death? And if we come back, is it only as another human?

12. Do we have a twin living somewhere else in the world, doing the same things we do, dating the same people we date, having the same feelings we feel, only it’s different?

13. Is 13 lucky or unlucky?

Mothers Day 06

An aside: I’m sorry if you have or had an evil mother and you hate her and want nothing to do, or have nothing to do with her anymore. I’m sorry if you’ve lost your mother and are saddened on days like today, or if, like someone I care about, you lost a child only the day before the day that would celebrate you as a mother, and now today is a constant reminder of sadness or gloom. Today is Mothers Day, and for some reason, it’s something that Americans take part in, again and again, year after year. Now I must continue…

My mother. Her hair is much longer these days.

It’s Mothers Day, and while I’m all about dedicating a day to celebrate mother’s, I’m also not all that sure why we have to set aside a certain day each year to spotlight something that should be appreciated always. If for nothing more than the mere fact that the person you might quite possibly call “mom,” carried you in her womb for any number of months, most likely 8 to10, and there she housed you, fed you and kept you warm and comfy, you should always appreciate your mom. Or maybe because the person you call “mom” cared about your cuts and bruises and kissed them all to make them go away, you should always appreciate your mother. Especially as one begins to generally accept and understand all that it means to be a mom, it’s important to appreciate the women and men who choose to do so. But is it so important to have one day a year to do that?

No. I don’t think so. I mean I think it’s more special to buy your mother flowers for no reason at all and take her out to a nice dinner, or cook her dinner, just because you love her. I think it’s nice to send your mom a card for no reason, or call her up and say thank you some other time of the year.

And yet I understand we’re all about tradition, and that today is a day full of flowers and food and for us, in America, this is tradition. And in June we’ll do it all over for the people with penises.

But today isn’t as important to me, outside of it being May 14th, the closest date to the future that I’ve ever been lucky enough to experience (of course that’s until May 15th rolls around), but I don’t think that I need to tell my mom I love her anymore than any other day of the year.

Still, I’m a sucker. And I call the ladies in my family to wish them a happy Mother’s day. And I wait for my foster cat to wish me a happy Mother’s day, only he doesn’t. And I look at the drugstore to see how many cards have been sucked up from loving family and friends as an ode to the mom. And I suck up some cards too, and send them on their way.

So, yes, while I think Mother’s day should be as no big, just like Secretary’s day, Valentines Day, and/or Father’s day too, I still give in to the urge. I mean, c’mon now, I don’t want to look like a bad daughter.

Dialogue-ing in my head

“Houston. We have a problem.”

I know. The cat’s whining for food. But he’s so cute when he whines. In fact, I sort of encourage him to whine. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but do you want me to lie?

“No. That’s not the problem.”

But HE IS whining.

“NO, your electricity is out. As in not ON, not WORKING, not DOING ANYTHING FOR YOU. Well, except for this one outlet in the kitchen, which ironically is the outlet that houses the Internet access. You’re still online, but you won’t be able to see after dark. And your food might spoil.”

Does that mean the cat will stop whining?

“Once you feed him, yes. But no, not until then.”

Yes Houston, it seems we do have a problem, and it has nothing to do with the cat. Or maybe we just have more than one problem. But at least I have Internet access, that’s one less problem than I could have. (Look, the glass is half full). Without the Internet access, I’d have more than just one or two problems. But I already said that.

“What’s your problem?”

What do you mean what’s my problem, You already told me my problem. I’m without electricity. THAT’S MY PROBLEM. I guess I should get myself in the shower and stuff. So that, if and when I can’t see anymore tonight, well, I mean I can see, but I’ll have to see in the dark, I’ll be all dressed and ready to go out.

“Maybe you should do that then.”

Yeah. Maybe. Since I have nothing more to say to myself now. Well, I mean I do, but it’s not all that interesting.

Sex fact for today: Horomonally speaking, both men and women reach their “sexual peaks” in their mid-20s.

Since you’ve been away

Since you’ve been away I’ve been down and lonely. Since you’ve been away I’ve been thinking of you…” (Who knows of where this comes?”)

Since I’ve been away (from this blog for the past few days),

1. I’ve successfully managed to get nauseated (not nauseous as noted here) at varying intervals during the past few days. On Saturday I became nauseated at around 6PM. On Sunday it was closer to 4PM and today it was more like 1PM. No, I don’t think I’m pregnant. Yes, I do take my pill on a regular basis at a regular timed interval.

2. I’ve found out that I’m officially finished with my M.Ed (Masters) in Human Sexuality Education. I’m still waiting for two classes to transfer, but that’s all. My transcript from New Orleans is in, and it should be in my files any time now, and once it appears on my transcript, I’m officially done. I’ll let you know if I’m graduating in May or August. I can tell you that it only took me 4.5 years.

3. The NY Times Magazine has a story about the War on Contraception. I have a copy, but haven’t read it YET.

4. I rediscovered my love for fried ice cream.

5. I finally watched “The Incredibles.” I think Sarah Vowell is cool.

6. I posted my latest piece on Souldish.

7. I joined with Moxie in the City to make you think about sex in the city.

Now, what have you been up to?

Blah. Blah. Sex.

The Beauty of Nature. I bought this at a fruit stand.

If you go to see one show in Williamsburg this May, make it this one. I can’t say I know Mike Daisey personally, cause I don’t, well, at least not yet, but I can say that we once exchanged some personal emails, and he happens to be, on May 19th, tapping into the brain of one of my great obsessions when it comes to scientists, and that’s Nikola Tesla. I love knowing that Nikola Tesla loved pigeons. I don’t know why I love knowing this, but I just do. Perhaps it’s because it’s oddly fascinating and eccletic.

Speaking of oddly fascinating, On June 17th, I’m going to be on a panel with Kathy Bates and a myriad of other highly talented women as part of Eve Ensler’s V-Day movement. I’ll keep you posted as details unfold.

Also, if you want to see the beautifully uncomfortable Stephen Colbert roast that everyone who’s anyone has been talking about, click here. (It will take you to the page that takes you there). I think you need a Real player to watch. Or go to iFilm.com. You can also find it there.

Now, lets talk about sex. Aahh, sex. Something we don’t talk enough about on this blog right now. I just finished a piece on “the numbers game” and you can read it online tomorrow, I won’t tell you where until then, although here’s a glimpse of the site. It’s interesting this numbers game, it makes you think about how important your partner’s sexual past is. I mean they say that for every one person you’ve slept with, it’s actually, what’s the statistic?, I think “they” (as in the collective they) say it means you’ve actually slept with five other people. So then, even if you say 30 people to a partner, and that freaks him out, does it really mean you slept with 150 people in some way? And what is sex anyway? How do you define “sleeping with or sex?” My friend “Sasha” (names always changed to protect the less than innocent), says that she counts any person who has given her an orgasm as someone she’s slept with. I kind of like that idea. It at least gives the what is sex number some good meaning.

Of course the past is the past, the present is now and the future is really beyond our control.

That being said, I think sometimes, if a partner asks, and they seem like they’re going to be so totally jealous and confrontational if you tell them the truth, then it’s okay to lie. I’m not saying I always think lying is the way to go, I’m just saying in extreme cases, it might not be a bad thing. Of course, if you have to lie to your partner because they care so much about your past sexual experiences, you might want to seriously rethink your relationship, but until you decide to dump this overprotective-for-no-good-reason person in your life, you might want to lie. But yeah, then you might want to also say bye (ah, poetry).

Speaking of poetry (well, not really, but it would be nice if it were), Jonny and me (Jonny being my manfriend, partner, or flova), we started a podcast. Now, I have it in MP3 form, and I don’t know how to get it up on my site. Can anyone help? Please???!!!!! I wanna make it an RSS feed. What’s a girl to do?

© Copyright Jamye Waxman M.Ed.