28 August 2007

Misadventures in job hunting...

I suppose it's rather telling of the image people have of me that I immediately received two replies to my status update that reads "Infamous CoatCheck Girl is carefully concocting her plan of attack.... ". Both wondered whom the subject of my focus might be, rather than what.

I've technically been unemployed since April. I've managed to get by doing this or that, but I am striving for a more stable income, preferably doing something interesting and creative. Since there are no wealthy patrons lining up support this artist (yet), I turned to Craig's List.
Maybe it's that I'm getting older, hopefully wiser, and more confident in my talents, but I don't want my brain to rot away while I sit behind a desk for 8 hours a day. I have been looking for something within my fields of expertise...photography, writing, languages, marketing, PR...adult...?
Why not?
I have, in the past, done nude/fetish photo work, both as model and photographer. As with anything else, I optimistically conjectured that if I sorted through the more sordid ads--- "busty models wanted", "amateur bj videos", and numerous escort services--- I might find some legitimate art/fetish nude work, or perhaps some erotic writing gigs.
I was not quite prepared for what I did find.

Nude cleaning company hiring.
Ok.
I envisioned myself in nothing but an apron and heels, holding a feather duster.
Upon further inspection, however, the job lost its appeal.

"looking for high end women for our nude cleaning company. good looking, classy, sexy, and outgoing. hourly wage, and you keep all tips. clients will be looking to get great views, flirt, and do some touching. giving oral sex is a plus but is not manditory, please let us know when you email. pay depending on experience and duties. please send questions and pictures as soon as possible. we need to hire this week."

They're also hiring a manager:

our naked cleaning company needs a manager to run our daily activites, schedule, interview, handle money, be able to fill in being nude when needed or when trianing a new hire. outgoing, funny, business sense, sexy, good body, flirty are all great qualities. we also want our manager to be more than willing to give oral sex, and hand jobs when needed by home owners, and owner. if this isnt for you then please dont respond, but if you like this enviroment then respond and if your selected then we offer, great pay plans, bonuses, trips, tips, and perks. please email pictures, why your interested and when you can interview, and start, all interviews are kept under wraps, email today."

Next!

Ooh, here's something:

Need Fetish Models and Photographer:


"Hi there . . .

i have three fetishes which are a bit . . . obscure. i would like to find someone to photograph and film me indulging in these three fetishes for my own private collection. i would also like to find a model or two who would help me play out the scenes. No sex involved

The three fetishes (and i warned you they are a bit odd) are in no particular order . . .

1. Being dressed as a woman (nicely, not interested in being humiliated)

2. Learning how to properly use anal toys (on me)

3. being diapered by a friend (not intereste din being treated as a baby, just the diapers . . . would also like the model to be in diapers too but not a deal breaker).

If you can help please reply . . . bonus points if you respond with ideas for how to run any of the scenes (I'm not quite sure how to run a shoot) OR if you respond in character . . . would prefer girls but guys are fine . . .

Ok, that one could actually be fun, but I'm guessing this guy wouldn't want me to publish the photos anywhere.

Last but not least was "Foxy Phone Girls".
Hey, if I'm already having phone sex everyday, I may as well get paid for it, right?
What?! A mere $12 an hour?!

Maybe I'll go photograph the diaper guy after all...

All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved

27 August 2007

Psychic TV, Berbati's Aug. 07

PTV3 played at Berbati's last Thursday night...and what a show. I love my local bands as much as the next Portlander, but I realized that night that I often go to shows here, usually to shoot, and the music becomes background. I like it, but after a while it loses it's impact, it doesn't engage me completely. This show was a completely different story. Ok, so you have a bit of the freak-show factor but the music was actually really good too.
I'm really excited about these shots. I got permission to shoot the show from their bass player, Alice, and I'm mailing her a cd of images. I have seen some of their other live shots and was underwhelmed. I'm excited to see what might come of this. You can see the rest of the set on my flickr site.













No drummer photos, I'm afraid. They had him tucked away under no light, behind a bunch of equipment...typical. The viola player, Zef Noi$e, has his own project which is definitely worth checking out as well.

All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved

13 August 2007

Slow week...

"I know you're probably busy, since it's Friday night, but...hey where are you?"

It was 10:30 on a Friday night.

"Washing my dishes" I replied ruefully. While the fact that I was even washing dishes is probably one for the record books, it didn't make for a terribly exciting evening.

"Wow, I thought you'd be too cool to be staying at home on a Friday night," he told me after stopping by to vent his frustrations about girls.

I don't know how "coolness" factors in, but the truth is I'm in one of my rather antisocial phases. The only nights I go out are when I have somewhere specific to be, a specific show to see. I've also been spending a lot of time on the phone.

"Are you gonna phone me and leave me, or are we gonna talk again?" the Lonestar Pony had asked after that first night we talked.
I guess I'm not a phone 'em-and-leave 'em kind of girl, because we've talked on the phone every day since.
I've never been one for the long-distance affairs. There isn't really a point, as far as I'm concerned. Sure, phone sex is fun, but I can masturbate just as well without somebody on the other end of the line. I have written before that I'm very much an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of person. I have most recently been involved with a couple of lovers who were from out of town. The affairs ended simply because they left. We maintain the occasional friendly communication, but it is not a continuation of what we had here.
It's interesting to get to know somebody that I've never met in person. Over the last several months I have not really bothered to get to know my lovers, with the exception of the Leo Couple. With the others, I could tell their favorite bedroom pastimes, but would be hard pressed to tell their favorite color or where they were born.
And now I find myself--- between rounds of phone sex--- discussing political, religious and philosophical views with this person, as well as those little mundane personal details that I have tended to ignore of late.
He's the first person I have really bothered to get to know in a while, and he lives across the country. It has been a study of contrasts too. Despite all the raunchy phone sex, he is also kind of old-fashioned in many ways. On the second or third time we spoke, he suggested that we begin an old-fashioned mail correspondence, an epistolary courtship. He is in the process of moving, so we have yet to begin said correspondence, but I am looking forward to it.
I have arrived at a point where I think it would be nice to have somebody with whom to curl up on the couch to watch a movie, or who will spoil me, and be spoiled by me. Unfortunately this always seems to come with commitment, though I don't see what one necessarily has to do with the other. Still, sex is not hard to come by (come on, I'm a reasonably attractive girl!), while all the other stuff a little more so. I've had plenty of the former...it might be nice to open myself to the possibility of the latter.
The Lonestar Pony is a good first step. Sure I'm easing into it by choosing somebody that lives in another state, but it's all forward progress, no matter how small.
This is courtship, for courtship's sake...and I can definitely use the practice. A few nights ago, we were chatting on the phone and I realized I was talking about phlegm---in the context of Traditional Chinese Medicine, but still...phlegm. Hot, I know. Now you know my secret, ladies.
He has also challenged me on several levels, made me rethink some preconceived notions I didn't even realize I had.
After one particularly long conversation that took us in to the wee hours of the morning, he said "I should try to get a couple of hours of sleep before I go to Mass in the morning."
"Really?"I asked in disbelief.
He goes every Sunday. He also gave me the best answer I have ever heard for going to church or participating in any sort of organized religion.
"It makes me feel centered."
That simple. No other justification or explanation.

I do wonder how long something like this can sustain itself. Sweet nothings whispered over the phone are nice and all, but let's face it--- I still need some real life lovin'. We have talked about a visit, but what then? Either reality will rend our carefully crafted fantasy and it'll be a very long visit, or we'll hit it off and the time will fly all too quickly, leaving us wanting more. I don't know which holds more dread at this point.
I posed the question to him and he gave me the type of answer I would normally give. Enjoy it now for what it is and worry about later...later.
That just tells me I need to find a job---I have way too much time on my hands to think, to stress about details I normally would not give a second thought.


In the meantime, I am spending a lot of quality alone time. Not just that kind, you perverts. I've been doing a lot of yoga and cooking some wonderful meals for myself, the hot wife and her boyfriend. I have also been discovering some fun new music. One new discovery is Alex Karweit, from San Francisco. My friend Jeff Anthony blogged about this new album and referred to it as one of the best he's ever played on. That's high praise coming from him, considering all of the stuff he's done.
The song "L.A." in particular caught my attention. It encapsulates all of the trepidations that I had about that city.

All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved

06 August 2007

Lonestar Pony

A new face, new messages, new myspace crush. What's a coat check girl doing at home so early in the evening?
A life of infamy isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Most nights she sits on her fire escape sending her hopes, her dreams, her ambitions skyward with puffs of cigarette smoke, her face illuminated by the blue glow of a computer screen. This night is no different.
Are you on AIM?, he writes.
She scrambles to get the application running on the borrowed P.C.
An unknown name appears.
"Who is this?"
"Who are you?" blinks back on the screen. A "Who's on first?" for the digital age. It's somebody else she met online. An AFF friend, somebody she knows. But she is looking for new flirtations, new conversations, so she dismisses him with the promise of a phone call.

"Hi there" she types as the stranger's name pops up on the screen.
What to say to this unknown? They've only exchanged a few emails, poems, chit-chat.
They are nothing but pictures, words, zeros and ones, movies and books--- a 'general interests' section.

This is safe. This is distance. She allows herself be swept up in the flirtatious banter.

He has a friend her town he has thought about visiting.
"Friend or 'friend'?" she types, surprised that she cares.
"Just a friend. You're much more my type"
"oh? how would you know"
"foreign, arty, great lips, painted eyeliner...shall I go on?"
"please do...I'm a leo."
"sexy, the most beautiful brown eyes I have seen in a picture in ages...you have a great vocab, which counts for sooo much in my book."
It is this last that really does it. It is a harmless game of pretty words and she lets herself be flattered, drawn in.
He has fantasized about her, imagined himself a part of her stories, pictured the red thong she wore for another man.
"ah, but you see, therein lies the danger of getting to know me through my blogs..."
Still...
This is safe. This is distance. Two strangers, each one creating an ideal out of the ether, out of words and projected desire.

A teasing invitation.
She stares at the screen for a few seconds and throws back her head with a mischievous laugh. This is new, unexplored territory. A million thoughts race through her head. She sits at her window, curtain thrown wide, and suddenly feels shy.

He begins at her hips, his palms tracing her thighs as he slips the red thong down...
"fibber. you've done this before!"
"that does not mean i'm not nervous! its always been with somebody i know"
Breathing a little faster she wonders at her own daring.
"we could up the ante a bit. Phone?"

Heart racing, she picks on the first ring.
His Southern drawl makes her smile in the dim light of her room.
"So where were you?" she purrs.

He is kissing her belly, palms sliding over her thighs.... His voice guides her hands, and she traces every place his words have touched.
This is safe. This is distance...and she opens herself to him, this disembodied voice traveling over her skin.
She does not notice when they cease to be strangers on opposite ends of a phone, but she knows she is no longer alone.
She straddles him, lowers herself onto him, hips marking small circles.
She rides and recalls a story she read once. "De Noche Soy Tu Caballo". A story of lovers, of a lover's dream. A story of the macumba, of witchcraft and magic. A story of spirits and Orisha overtaking their worshipers, mounting them, riding them.
And she rides...
Her thighs strain and she feels the heat of his breath, the warmth of his body, the touch of his hands.
And she rides...
She reaches out to embrace him with her mind and spirit and body—to bewitch him, posses him.
She can feel him moving inside of her, her muscles taught, their breath heavy as she draws him in, all of him.

She lays on her bed, trying to catch her breath and hears him doing the same on the other of the line.
"Wow...I might need to spoon for a moment after that..." he gasps and laughs.
"Sorry, hun...I don't cuddle..." comes the laughing reply.




Author's note: This was a bit of an exercise. I was challenged to write in the third person, present tense. Challenge met...and what a pain in the ass it was! It took me a week to actually finish it. Worth it though...
All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved

02 August 2007

Oops! (SBT)

When Buddha Mama suggested "Oops!" as the subject for this week's SBT (Sex Blog Thursday) I was a bit stumped. After a bit of free-association two things came to mind: awkward moments and regrets.

As far as awkward moments during sex...sure they happen, but to me they are just part of what makes sex fun. The difference between a good lover and a great lover can be as simple as the ability to be spontaneous and easy-going.
I like my play, well...playful. Humor and laughter can be as important in lovemaking as kissing or any other form of fore-play.
I have encountered lovers who approached sex with such seriousness. All concern for technique and form and no room for "mistakes". What I tend to remember most about them is the lack of laughter. Even if the sex was otherwise good, there was just that little extra something that was amiss.
I remember one lover in particular--- we shared a warm camaraderie and laughed a lot together, but when it came to sex he would get very serious, very "we are going to make love now". All business.
One of the first times we were together, I was laughing for the sheer pleasure and enjoyment of the moment and he became very self conscious. He thought I was laughing at him.
"No, I'm just enjoying myself!" I protested. It was difficult to convince him and I got rather annoyed.
Insecurity is so unattractive.
"Look, as long as I'm not pointing at you and laughing, you're alright..." I remember saying rather grumpily.
I think I may have pointed at him and laughed after that. Our fling did not last long.

When I recounted the story to a friend of mine, she agreed.
"I know, don't you hate that? When they get all serious like that it makes you want to fart or something just to break the tension..." Always to the point, she is.


I have often thought that most people are too goal oriented during sex, and have too many insecurities surrounding it. Some people get so caught up in doing it "right" that they forget to have fun and enjoy it. She has to get off, he has to get off, and everyone wants to look good doing it. Performance anxiety is rampant. Just watch television for an hour and try to count how many times those insecurities are exploited. Most of us have no artful editing, lighting and slow motion shots to help us look cool in the bedroom.
We're imperfect beings, so why not embrace those little "oops" moments and have a good laugh? Breaking furniture, rolling around with such abandon that you fall off a bed, kissing with such enthusiasm that you give your lover a fat lip...awkward maybe, but it's a shared experience, a private joke. "Remember that time when...?"

As for regrets, I couldn't think of a single one, though there are a few "I'll never do that again" moments...


All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved

01 August 2007

Peach Pie and The Apocalypse

The Wifey, her daughter Kaya, and I went to Sauvie Island farms this afternoon to pick berries and peaches. It was the perfect day for it--- sunny, breezy, jovial company...
On our way to the berry fields we passed the vegetable plots and decided to look around there as well.

We found cucumbers and corn



and a frog



"Momma, can we get broccoli?" Kaya asked. She's an odd one for an eight year old. This is a kid who begs for broccoli and brussel sprouts.
So the three of us, city girls playing on the farm for a day, set out to find broccoli.
We stood between the rows, looking down at the evenly spaced greenery around us.

"Uh...how do you know when it's ripe or ready to pick or whatever?" I asked, unsure of what I was looking for.

"I don't know...that one looks right."

"Sure...it kind of looks like it does at the store..." I said, still not convinced.

She inspected it more closely. From the way we stood around it, looking at it from this way and that, you would have thought it was some rare object we had found.

"Well, how do you...pick it, pluck it, pull it up...whatever you do with it?"

"I don't know...you just pull it" she replied, gingerly tugging at it. "Well, I'll just break it off at the stalk"

Finally something I knew about broccoli!"The stalk is too thick. You'll never be able to break it off. You'd need a knife...a machete or something..." I suggested.

"Yeah, you're right...Come on, m'hija, we'll just buy some at the store..." she said grabbing Kaya's hand and pulling her along.

"When the apocalypse comes and we're left to fend for ourselves...we're so screwed!"

Berries were bound to be easier...or so I thought. The pickings were slim, it being a little late in the season. I think we also ate more than actually made it into the flats.







Still, it was a fun way to spend a day with my favorite girls...wandering the orchards, mildly intoxicated by the heady fragrance of peaches ripening in the sun...or it could have been heat stroke.



Hmmm...maybe now I'll get that peach pie that Jen saw in her dream (I am the hot wife!) before she even knew that we would end up sharing a fire escape...

All Content Copyright 2007, Juliana Tobón. All Rights Reserved