Showing posts with label naked on the internet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label naked on the internet. Show all posts

Thursday, July 02, 2009

Relief Next to Me or "Sorry I’m just revisiting this now."





I am not sure if all of these sentences have periods at the end of them or if the words are correct but maybe an intern could copyedit it for me jk no but srsly.

I just had a really incredible weekend. And I was excited for it. I'm still excited & charmed by the web of cyber-intern-love we've woven. The context was ideal because the point -- really, truly the point -- of autowin -- was to get to autostraddle. I couldn't -- can't -- keep on like I was on here forever.

I should tell you that the point of my life was to get to the writing, the point of the writing was never to get to my life.

But the point of the work -- the knowledge, the community, the material itself, and the conversations -- the point of the work was to get to the magazine. And here it is.

See back then it was exactly like being naked. Perhaps you also felt naked but really at best you were like a censored movie on teevee -- all blur and suggestion and hope -- you were just the idea of nakedness and I was open and cold like a pitted grapefruit.

When we were 15 my friend Andrew wrote a poem about heartbreak and it opened like this and employed alternative lifestyle formatting: You have dug me out / with grapefruit spoons / and I am left as only the shell of me, / like a rotten peanut / salty and compromised.

You knew things about me and then there we'd be at a party or a restaurant, like the worst places on earth to talk to anyone about anything real, like we were people from the middle ages transported into Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. And on top of that, we were generally people all too aware of that particular obstacle but somehow braving it just the same.

And I felt like you wouldn't like me if you met me.
+

See there's two memememees: let's say one of them is Riese and the other is autowin. Autowin is the writer part. It's weird to give that part the name "autowin" because autowin is a new/knew name and the writer-part of me is the oldest part of me. But whatever. I'm writing this so I make the rules.



Autowin is scared a lot and doesn't want anyone else around. She writes this blog but doesn't talk to people. She's somewhat incapable of interacting with normal society because she finds strip malls fundamentally ridiculous and organized professional sports somewhat baffling and nuclear families hopelessly boring and outdoor barbecues where straight people hold drinks close to their waists and talk about rooms or decorations they're planning to add on to their house to be sort of embarrassing and sad even though everyone at the barbecue is smiling and happy and full of confident, flowy energy.

She is openly convinced that everyone she knows may undergo a metamorphosis and become Old Navy overnight, and so she does not depend on them to ever join her revolution, which is a disorganized revolution anyhow and often drunk.

She has trouble with phone calls and friendship and employers. She likes to smoke just about anything and doesn't think anyone gets her and there's very little anyone could do to prove otherwise but if you can convince her that you do get her, she sometimes falls straight lickity-split in fucking love with you.

Her sexuality is not incredibly relevant, it's just another kind of nakedness or aggression, depending.

There's been a handful of people who knew the "autowin" personality as she exists in normal everyday life. None of them are people I see or speak to regularly right now. I don't know if that's good or bad, it just ... is.

+

So I'm used to being separate from the writer person, it's what I've always done. Well ... I think when you're talking about your feelings and I'm talking to you about your feelings, or about my life, maybe there are flashes of autowin there. But generally she is not a person who talks to people, she is a person dependent on privacy or total understanding, which comes with time, because autowin is scared!

+

And even though this weekend I knew I'd be hanging out with people who knew autowin's writing (including some people who primarily knew me through autowin), it was in this other context of Autostraddle -- and THE TEAM!, who you should defo like more than me because they are cooler -- which made me feel safe, and happy, and like everything had come together perfectly ... like I wouldn't be a total weirdo ... like either I'm totally a weirdo who scares people like I scared people when I was younger because I was intense and they had Barbies, or I'm a normal social person which secretly I am totally fine at too.

... not nervous at all, but excited. And in the weeks leading up to it I was wondering why I felt so excited whereas when I knew I'd be meeting people via autowin in the past, I would feel mostly awkward and scared, but ever since Autostraddle started I've loved meeting people. Like I want to talk to people about the future! Maybe because I have one and I am not constantly attempting to obliterate myself or die or tell a really funny joke or something.

Maybe because Autostraddle has a greater purpose, and because it is a business, and so there's something solid to hold on to as human beings. A starting point. We don't have to begin with the meaning of life.

And there was a purpose, and there was a team, and that's one of the reasons why this weekend managed to combine all the things I love about people who love autowin with all the things I love about people and FUN FUN FUN in general.

'Cause sometimes you don't have to talk face to face about how you GET IT to have fun, but you can have fun face-to-face because you GET IT.



So anyhow. It was so beautiful! I have never felt such overwhelming positivity about a group of people before in my life. Seriously it was almost transcendent and in a strange way totally incomparable to any feeling I've ever felt before.

So thank you intern army who came to NYC this weekend and risked getting gay grounded and slept on couches or on top of each other and who fliered madly and walked in the sunshine and said lovely things, thank you alexandra, ashley, daphne, elizabeth, emily, heidi, jessica, katrina, laura, lola, nicole and tirna and to the team for an awesome weekend.

I mean I spent like 50% of the weekend feeling totally sick in one physical way or another and still think it was one of the best weekends of my life, so that says a lot for the power of X's secret stash everyone!

I am proud of everyone, happy to work with these people and be associated with them; alex, brooke, carly, robin, nata, stef -- and also laneia, crystal and tess even though they couldn't be there physically.

I want Autostraddle to be really successful so we can afford to have another party that's longer where we can play Truth or Dare like I suggested ten THOUSAND BAJILLION TIMES as well as strip poker, but what no one knew is I wasn't talking about your clothes, I was talking about your feelings! JK, I'm not a lesbian, I'm a bisexual like T2 (that's my bro-name for Tila Tequila), so all I want in life is for everyone to make out on television with microphones on their butts. I was talking about your clothes! Where was I. Waiting for the parade. Yes!

this photo is called "interns" and it's by robin roemer, obvs

Once we had this idea to take the interns upstate to Alex's cabin and blindfold them and leave them in the woods and whomever came out alive got to transcribe an interview with charlene from "gimme sugar."

Right about that anyhow: I felt safe and not scared or heavy and open and cold like a pitted pit. Like it wasn't just about me and my secrets. It was about all these people together. It was about all the things we actually don't need to lie about when we're around the right people, which are also beautiful things. So I wasn't even nervous like I was to meet people I'd met before via autowin, but excited and already totally comfortable. Which is a good place to start from, especially if one will ever get to autowin.

What I mean is that doesn't mean that like everything is on the table, but everything is DANCING on the table. Make out and wait for the next joke etc. And I had these other people -- which is a technique I've entertained since the start (here, look at my BFF, she's pretty!!! read my words, but dream of her!), only now it has a very concrete form & structure & purpose.

We had a party! We marched in a parade! It was a ridiculously short period of time doing weird things!

I have some things I should say to you, some disappointing things: I don't always remember exactly. I want to have the time to remember, or the capacity to remember. I do get a lot of emails -- not THAT many -- but like, a good 3 or 4 a week, and they are always really full of feelings. I have a hard time responding because I have a hard time feeling important. I don't have a vocabulary for it. I don't want to let you down. I love the emails and I wonder if just saying "thank you" is enough. Like this paragraph already feels weird so

and it's hard to say "your emails make me feel better about my existence" ... and then I feel I cheat you if I don't address, you know, your existence ... or mention that like ... my existence was compromised by this blog in SO MANY WAYS that i didn't/can't talk about. It hasn't been easy. Mostly though i can't talk about it 'cause I can't diminish the positive things it brought! Such things!!! ... and where we are ... and I've tried to fucking structure this goddamn post and I can't. Oh well. Maybe TInkerbell will comment! !!!!! this isa blogtherearenorules look ican write whatever i want POTATO!

Also, it's hard to feel important when everyone around you thinks you should give it up and make some fucking money for once. Money matters, it matters all the time. I want it! 'Cause it's fun and you can give it to other people when they need it too. But I'd rather die than temp 9 hours a day 5 days a week for a paycheck that just barely covers my basic living expenses because if I have no time to write or create things than I might as well be dead. You know? I'm convinced by something greater than all of this that we'll find a way.

Anyhow, those are my feelings. The whole truth is like the story of a wave unfurled, ET-effin'-CETERA.

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Recap: Naked on the Internet Panel


Just talked to T-Mobile: the thief downloaded games onto my phone. Apparently this's a gift in disguise as the games'll be mine when I retrieve my "SIM card" or whatevs? I hope it's Trivial Pursuit or "a game called reading great works of literature." Games on phones? Seriously? How bored is this guy? I mean, doesn't he have other stuff to steal?


[L to R: Waking Vixen/Audacia Ray, Marie Lyn Bernard/Muppet Monkey Face, Lux Nightmare, Madeline in the Mirror, Ellen Fredrichs.]

i. The Red Carpet, 5:45 P.M.:
TB: Do you get nervous about public speaking?
Me: No. That's the problem. I don't get nervous enough. I just say whatever comes into my head, like whatever crazy shit I think'd be funny or cool, I've been told I have weird public speaking tics ... hand gestures, etc ... And that I play with my hair a lot. I'm generally impossible to watch, is what I think.

[Things I didn't do that I was scared I might do: mention anyone specifically, talk about my personal sex life, be totally snarky/annoying, talk too much, employ off-color humor, drink beforehand, play with my hair a lot, laugh inappropriately, talk about crazy exes/crazy self.]

[Something else I didn't do: mention the name of my blog or anything else that woulda given me self-promotional benefits. Whoops. That's okay. I did it for fun! Actually, it was fun. I love talking about this kind of stuff. Seriously. Besides! FIVE present peoples already link to me: Waking Vixen, Jayme Waxman, RKB, my girlfriend and Steph, so I auto-won like, 5% of the room already!]

[I didn't do anything annoying, my friends said I was clever and funny and said good things/made good points, and ... and ... I actually agree with them ... I think.]

[Is this what it's like to go to class having done the reading? I mean, I read the book! I read the whole thing!]

I wore a cute outfit. My lucky cowboy boots, lucky black dress, etc.


"My most solitary endeavor--blogging--was responsible for bringing me to the darkest places in my Internet travails, because it brought me deeper into my own head. Ironically, it also brought me the most comfort and community with other women. Perhaps this is because many women come to blogging--especially sex and relationship blogging--with a sense of restlessness, aloneness, and the general frustration of being misunderstood--plus a serious compulsion to write."
-Audacia Ray, Naked on the Internet


ii. my first

6:45 P.M.:

We take the W train to Union Square, because we're retarded. Waking Vixen'd asked me to arrive @MoSex by 6:30. Obvs it was 6:45. This was karmic timing, 'cause we ultimately emerged via R-train at 28th street, just as Stephanie was walking by, en route to the reading.

[Summer 2004: "When people ask how I met you [Stephanie], I tell them we met in Union Square. Because we did. I just leave out the part beforehand--you know. The craigslist part." Old-School Auto-Win fans may remember Stephanie from September /October /November. In her East Village apartment that '04 summer, though, before I knew anyone--before I knew myself: a futon, Thai take-out, whirring air conditioner, space thick with smoke, Radiohead. I thought, there's people out there like me who are also afraid of people, afraid to leave their cave, but also beautiful and interesting and cool and fun. We had a few incarnations in each other's lives, and I was super-happy when she told me she'd be coming, as I haven't seen her since December.]


stephanie. met on internet, july '04.
Stephanie: What're you gonna talk about?
Me: No clue.



This's me making Waking Vixen laugh.
She's like "Ha! I'm so glad I invited this totes weirdo to my panel!"
Probs everyone was laughing, that's how funny I am.
JK. Probs the panel and my friends were laughing.



iii. Represent.

My posse of young 'uns on the far left of the room are the coolest kids in school. First off ...

7 p.m.: Panel begins.
7:05 p.m.: TB arrives, after enjoying a cigarette outside.

tb, met on internet, february '07.


7:15 p.m.: Krista arrives, looking earnest/clutching sleeves.

krista. met at interlochen arts academy, september 1997.
krista is my sister. not by blood or anything. but she is.

7:20 p.m.: Lainy, Tara, Vicky and Tara's 18-year-old male cousin arrive.
Tara's wearing a denim mini and a tank top reading "Dirty Kitty." Lainy's donned hot pink, obvs.
Later during panel, I will say: "I write about my friends on my blog," they will laugh, I will point: "I write about all those kids on my blog."

tara. met on internet, march '05.


lainy. met via tara, summer '05.
Later, Re: Who's on these internet dating sites?, I'll reflect that it's the same ten people on every site, the same people you already know. [Though I haven't been on 'em in about two years, so I'm sure the climate's changed since then.] I'll be referring specifically to the fact that, while interning at nerve, I'd do frequent searches and Lainy always came up as my number one "match." I was like: NERVE! I already know Lainy, duh, I'm talking to her on AIM right now!


7:30 p.m.: Matty arrives.

matty. met at CAKE party, summer '05.
lived across the street from me and krista.
krista informed me immediately: NOW HE'S MARRIED. WHAT?!!!

iv. The Fringes

Re: Advantages to online dating.

Me: "You don't have to leave your apartment, is the main thing."

*

1998, The New Yorker.
from "On the Fringes of the Physical World," by Meghan Daum:
"All the tangible stuff--the trees outside, my friends, the weather--fell away. I could physically feel my brain. My body did not exist. I had no skin, no hair, no bones; all desire had converted itself into a cerebral current that reached nothing but my frontal lobe. Lust was something not felt but thought. My brain was devouring all of my other organs and gaining speed with each swallow. There was no outdoors, the sky and wind were irrelevant. There was only the computer screen and the phone, my chair, and maybe a glass of water."

*

v. Naked on Waking Vixen's Arm

Circa 8 P.M., I notice AR's tat. Her tattoo is not kidding around. I've tracked down a photo for you, from her blog:

Speaking of tattoos, from a convo a month or so ago:

"You're so precious, you're like the cutest girl in the world, and I'm so dark ... like Satan over here ... like ... RAWR. I'm such more of a robot than you. Look at your stuff..all your little stuff...your little iBook and your pink iPod, you're like, I'm gonna get a tattoo of a chai on my thigh, and I'm like. I wanna get tattoos on my wrists like the CRUCIFIXION, you know?"
-TB


vi. Lusting for the Lusty Lady
For a while, I was considering a regular Auto-Win feature called "My Secret Obsessions." Then I realized this'd be a short feature, as my only secret obsession is Rachel Kramer Bussel. I read at her In the Flesh reading series last year, and she wrote really nice things about me. But I'm obsessed with her because I think she's the most productive person on earth. Does she know of some secret Time-Management Super-Powers?

Me: Do you think RKB will be there?
TB: Obviously. Totally.

Why am I obsessed with RKB? And why didn't she say hi to me--though I also didn't say hi to her? Is it because like me, she's also kind of shy in this weird selective way? Is it because I seem hostile or annoying or obsessed?

I could think about this all day. Instead, I blog, because that's what bloggers do, when not having cybersex on the internet. JK, I never have cybersex.

Which's why I mainly spoke on topics like blogging/life, relationships, internet dating, etc., and hushed up during discussions of porn/sex work/etc. OK: actually, I said stuff on those topics too, because I'm a big fan of inserting my uneducated P.O.V on everything.

Anyhow back to RKB.

It's my secret desire to sit inside her brain and watch the neurons fire. Instead, I read all of her blog entries, though not the cupcake blog, because I don't like lusting for things I can't have. [There're no nearby cupcake factories, I think.] RKB goes to everything and reads every book ever and blogs everything. She's like a one-woman Fleshbot.

AND she blogs about her relationships and her feelings--which's a topic we discussed at the panel, actually--how to handle getting personal on one's blog, what to show and what to reveal, how to handle this with your partners and friends--It's a compelling and persistent issue, and the choice to do so [to choose to blog about one's "personal life"] is increasingly rare--

Personally [ha! get it? Personally?!] I think there's been a mass blogger exodus over the past year or so, as blogs' ubiquity has increased, away from discussing the intimate/personal. It's frowned upon, often, as "dirty laundry," etc. There's arguments to be made on both sides. I said: "I do it sometimes but generally try to avoid it, try balance, I used to be more personal than I am now that my audience's bigger. Sometimes I wish I could block my ten closest friends but let 4,000 strangers read it. You know? Also, when I do blog about personal things, it's usually because I'm hoping to you know--touch on larger issues, or something someone else might relate to, you know--[Miss America voice]--help people."

Waking Vixen shouted out my Sunday Top Tens. My friends laughed. That was awesome.

So, RKB!

She posts at least six blogs a day, hosts reading series, interviews people for mediabistro/gothamist/everyone and publishes like, 100 articles a week for HuffPo/Village Voice/NY Post/everyone, edits or appears in 10,000 erotica anthologies, and often blogs about how she's really just a nerd who's sometimes lonely and up w/insomnia Amazon-searching new books to read. How's that possible? She's the busiest person on earth! She's making cupcakes! She's getting spanked! She's having relationships! She's RKB!

I considered devising a mathematical formula to determine exactly how she does what she does, but then I thought: Riese, this's why you don't get anything done, weirdo.

Excerpts from E-Mail exchange, August 2006:

To: RKB
From: Me

... I know this sounds like an odd question, but how do you manage your time so well? When I read your blog, it seems like the amount of creative output and the amount of reading of other people's creative output that you do is really impressive! How does she do it, one might ask? And so I am. Share your wisdom, as I'm attempting to craft a similar rate of productivity myself.

To: Me
From: RKB

... briefly, um, I don't know how I get so much done but in large part I use one thing to procrastinate on another. Really. And do a lot at my day job, and, just, am crazy really.

When I received that email, I was mostly stunned that she also has a DAY JOB?!! She must never sleep! I'm crazy too, but I feel like I haven't done anything.

Side note about a book I did finish reading, which's a miracle these days: Naked on the Internet, the book.

I suspect I was in the minority of people present who'd actually read the whole thing cover-to-cover. Read, losers. Buy it!

RKB arrived at 7:30. I know this because TB wrote it down immediately, and we gave each other a look. A "RKB is here, obvs," look.



vii. From "The Comments" to my Sunday Top Ten


TB dropped her Blackberry on the floor within about 15 minutes of the panel's commencement. I wanted to pee in my pants, but instead I was like; Whats up, that's my girlfriend reading Gawker on her Blackberry. She was like "Sorry, got it," and held it up to reassure everyone she could return to whatever she was doing, let's all move on as planned.




So first Waking Vixen read from her book, then we discuss topics, then people from the audience asked questions.


viii. Some things I remember

Q: What motivates women to get involved in pornography?
A: "Money."

[Lux Nightmare had a much longer and more complicated answer that did not involve money. She actually has information and experience from which to speak. I've got none. Also, a lot of alt-porn stars don't get paid! I learned that in Naked on the Internet.]

Q: Do y'all feel weird about the world knowing your business?
A: I mostly just feel weird about my grandparents.

Q: How do you blog about sex and still retain dignity and a sense of self?
A: I only blog about 90210. Dignity what?

Q: Are there any websites like ManHunt for women?
A: Dude, if you're a woman that wants to have sex like, right now? You could have sex with anyone in the whole world that you wanted to. You could post an ad on craigslist and get like, 150 responses. LIFE IS MANHUNT FOR WOMEN.

Q: Are there axe murderers on the internet?
A: "Yes." JK! Just me. Actually I feel that axes are very old school. I prefer lasers like from Star Wars.

Lux: Some of the Suicide Girls were allegedly only paid in underwear.
Me: It was really cute underwear.

[note: I'm not a Suicide Girl. But I did write a story for an erotica anthology they were putting together once upon a time that never came to fruition. That's fine. Like I said, my favorite thing on earth is to write things for free. In fact, that's how I make a living, and slowly deteriorate into insanity. Not the productive kind of insanity, like RKB's, but the other kind. Whatever the other kind is.]

*

Krista: So Matty's MARRIED.
Me: You're married?
Matty: Yup.
Me: Wow! Congratulations.
Matty: [monotone, unenthused.] Thanks.
Me: When'd you get married?
Matty: Tuesday.
Me: Wow! How's married life so far?
Matty: Sucks.
Me: Oh! Okay. Um.
Matty: Yeah.
Me: Already?
Matty: Yup.
Me: OK! Um.

*

"I love how those guys had to qualify their questions with I heard you on The Brian Lehrer Show today like I heard about this on legitimate media I was listening to NPR, this isn't normally my thing."

-Krista


Afterwards, we dined at Dragonfly. It was fabulous to see everyone, especially now that I think I'm getting sick. My throat, nose and body hurts real bad. I'm drinking tea. I think I need some apples or something. Someone sign me up for the Fruit of the Month club, thanks.

I've got a postcard super-glued to my desk of William Burroughs trying to stab Jack Kerouac with a dagger.

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Intro: "Naked on the Internet" Panel

TB and I've decided to individually recap the perfectly marvelous
Museum of Sex Naked on the Internet panel,
then post our relative perspectives on our respective blogs.

It's writing exercise, but also it'll provide endlessly delicious entertainment for YOU, the reader.

For example: Was the "TB drops her Blackberry on the floor, thus attracting the attention of everyone in the room for about five seconds incident" different from TB's vantage point?

We've not exactly started this recap yet, 'cause TB actually had to do work today at her work,
which's unheard of,
and I broke off my "T" key this morning
and literally spent the entire day
trying to fix it.
And doing laundry while listening to 1984 on Audiobook, etc.

But it's coming. Pun possibly intended.

*

Viviane's photos, my edits:
You can see in these photos that I'm having a lot of very deep thoughts. Also you can see that the string of Lux Nightmare's tea's in a different position in each photograph. This's 'cause she kept fiddling with it, which may or may not've made me want to take the string, wrap it around my neck, and die. However, as you can see in the displays behind us, this probs woulda been interpreted as an "auto-erotic-asphyxiation" fetish, which I know all about from Law & Order: SVU and Six Feet Under and 'cause that's what I tell TB I'm doing when I'm actually doing other things, like enjoying a lemon wedge or a brief dangle from the ceiling.

Anyhow, luckily I didn't hang myself, because then everyone would've missed out on the fabulous panel! It went very well, I think, and Lux Nightmare: I forgive you for the tea-bag-string thing. I myself am very fidgety, and I've been told I develop strange habitual tics when speaking in public. We're lucky I didn't have a teabag string to fiddle with, otherwise I woulda driven everyone crazy.

"Being Driven Crazy/Driving People Crazy" is also a fetish: clearly, it's mine.

*
I came to MoSex for an opening this past February called "Kink." After looking around and licking some feet, Lo and I ended up sitting upstairs, dissecting and describing the hours that'd passed since we'd last really spoken; since I moved out in August. Upstairs is all video: screens and more screens, including the one in our corner, seven minutes of porn on repeat as innocuous as air. I don't remember what was in the scene, only that it was funny we could talk about serious things without acknowledging the fucking out of the corner of our eyes like so many other bodies passing our space: like our own. But I guess we do that all the time now, yeah? Like that rubber clown I kept seeing at the panel! Like, rubber clown, what's up dude? How's that clown nose? Kinky, yeah? [Wha?!!] Totes not judgin', just sayin'.




Goooooooooo sexxxxx!!!!

*

This time, Stephanie and her boyfriend came, Krista came, Matty came, Tara-D and Lainy and Vicki and Tara's cousin and of course TB and later we all had dinner at dragonfly in the West Village and Kristen came and it was an all-around really perfect evening. I'm really glad that I did it. Go Waking Vixen, Madeline in the Mirror, Ellen Fredrichs and Lux Nightmare! And that dude from Mahunt or whathaveyou with the children and the Escort Reviews!

Thanks, guys. You're all very kinky, and special, and you can all have a pony and/or a monkey, whatever your adorable heart desires, and also the Superpower of your choice.

P.S. I still do not have a phone. It's funny, I don't feel that different. It's not that I repress behavioral instincts to avoid making phone calls, it's that I have the same ones as usual, I just don't feel guilty about it.

P.P.S. Typing with a broken T key is so annoying though, I might have to get a phone.