I’m sat here in my hotel room, packed and almost ready to go, in the midst of a second round of Eroticon drop.
My day was very mixed yesterday. A fast start to the morning, mind spinning with the previous day’s events mixed with a lack of sleep put me in a strange state. Amazing workshops leading up to lunch filled me with mental to-do lists and a desire to get home and get back to work. Not in a “I want to leave” way, but a “I want to use all this new info” way.
Then the downward spiral started.
Took part in a panel in the afternoon, that, for a number of reasons, didn’t live up to my expectations. Porn-bashing in the last panel I attended took a bit of wind out of my sails. I’ve been told that the last speaker of the day was amazing, and even though I was in the room and interested in what was being said, I was dealing with problems on one of my highest earning affiliate sites, so I wasn’t “there” in my head.
Then it was all done – the workshops, the learning, the connecting with new friends and reconnecting with old ones. I have to admit, my shitty afternoon made me feel slightly robbed.
Things improved in the evening, when I went out to dinner with a collection of people that I would give my right arm to be in their presence for any amount of time…all there at one table. Molly, Michael, Harper, Rachel, Rebelle & Master T, RG, Muse, Mia…my fangirl moments, all at the same table as me…a porn writer. Part of me didn’t feel worthy to be around them, part of me wanted to hold onto each of them and not let them go…or me go…
But, I had to – let them go, and let me go….as in Ruby. It was time to go back to Sarah.
Please don’t get me wrong. Going back to Mrs and toddler is something I’ve wanted to do since I stepped out of the car on Friday afternoon. They are the reason I do it all. What surrounds them…that’s what is giving me the second round of drop. Small town England where the idea of a great night out is leaving your kid with your ex while you go to the shitty pub in town, get trashed and high and puking in the street – at the age of 35. Sharing those pictures on your Facebook timeline the next morning. Going to toddler playgroups and seeing them used as ways to pick up chicks rather than pay attention to your kid that’s crying for your attention. Where if word ever got out that I write adult materials I’d be transformed from “That American lesbian” to “That porn-writing American lesbian”. No adult conversations around sex, writing, BDSM, life, love other than that from my amazing wife….
My drop is a disconnection.
Filed under: Fantasies & Realities
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