The orgy I forgot I got mostly naked for

A reporter who was interviewing me for a story wrote and asked if I could comment on this orgy I wrote about for The Village Voice (link NSFW because of boobs)...in 2006. I'm a little embarrassed to admit I would probably have forgotten it even happened if she hadn't asked. Here's a snippet from that very old column:

I reached for Shira while Dan massaged me, and soon the three of us were entangled—I on top of her, he grinding against me—still with our underwear on. I lost track of where everyone else was, intent on rubbing against her soft, wet skin (she'd taken a quick shower earlier). I asked if I could spank her and she graciously accepted, though with various couplings in a small space, it was a challenge to find the proper angle.

This incident taught me two things: 1) I have a horrible memory. 2) My life is so much different these days, in all kinds of ways. My two current sex columns are far more heavily journalism based than me getting naked. I don't go to orgies, unexpected or otherwise. I'm focused on improving my life in gradual increments, rather than just me-me-me now-now-now, as I was until very recently.

I know saying I forgot I attended an orgy may sound like I'm jaded or blasé about sex, but I actually think it's more a function of my writing career. I don't know exactly how many pieces I got published last year, or will this year, but the pace of one weekly column and one column every other week means I'm constantly planning ahead, trying to time them to current events or movie or book releases. I'm bombarded with research for various articles and essays, have stacks of books to read for work or pleasure, spend way too much time reading online rather than digging in to substantive writing. So I consider my forgotten orgy my brain's attempt to stay focused on the here and now, rather than live in the past.

For far too long, I lived in not the past, but the what-if. I was so focused on what I lacked, my every flaw, that those were all I saw. I'm talking years this went on, the depths of which I haven't quite gotten myself to lay bare on the page yet. So having come out the other side of that, I still marvel every day that I fell for someone who loves me for me, gigantic flaws and all. Who puts up with my being disorganized and overprotective and away from home so often. Who has seen me at my absolute worst and never once judged me. Who goes out of his way to build me up, to remind me that I'm on the right path, to work with me rather than against me. I've gotten used to it after over three years, but there are moments when it's still a shock to my system, when how I live now awes me with its adultness.

That's not to say my twenties and early thirties lacked fun; they had plenty of it, along with the dropping out of law school and bankruptcy and volatile relationships and crappy jobs and self-sabotage. It was a mix, but it was mainly focused on the immediacy of daily life. There wasn't a thought to the future. I don't think I ever really considered that my Village Voice column might end as abruptly as it did. Now, I wouldn't say I expect each column to be my last, but I wouldn't at all be surprised if one day I got an email or phone call saying as much. I'm prepared for those eventualities, even though I'd be disappointed.

I'm almost 40 and trying to be a mom and because of that, and because I want some of the safety and protection of not always living in the moment, of robbing tomorrow to do everything-all-at-once today, I am far more careful. I don't focus on the past, save for when I think it can teach me a lesson about the present or future. So I'm all forgetting anything, orgies included, that will help me live my best life now, sans FOMO (I'm in full FOGO mode these days). Part of me actually hopes, much as I adore my town, to move farther from New York so I am less tempted to go into the city, because this is where my work and my home and my love is. I'm actually purging belongings, as much as this hoarder is capable of, in case I do need to relocate. So maybe my brain is doing the equivalent, putting memories somewhere hard to reach, or even impossible to access, to protect me and keep me living for today, not what might have been, or what was.

My lesbian hookup apps article in The Village Voice, plus a hoarder turns a new leaf

I wrote about lesbian hookup apps for the Queer Issue of The Village Voice. Yes, it's an odd time to be writing for them, though this piece was assigned before the Michael Musto etc. firings, and was my first for them since my Lusty Lady column ended in 2007.

Comes on the heels of purging so many copies I'd been saving, who knows what for aside from vanity, that were part of the purging in my move. New me will not be getting a hard copy of this issue. See? People can change! I believe I will always be a hoarder, or at least, have a hoarding mentality, but I am trying to be a better person and less attached to possessions. It's a long slog, but if the reward is a home I love rather than one that makes me quake in fear that it might someday have to be shown to another human soul, then it's worth it. That being said, my goal for the rest of this year is to crack some print magazines, where the pay is higher. I don't want my hoarding mania to reach such heights that I only want to write for print publications so there's no more paper in the house! That would be some crazypants version of cutting off my nose to spite my byline. One day, one article, one short story, at a time. I'm trying to tame my ADD mind on my own, through much trial and error. Today that involves physically separating myself from my laptop and phone for extended periods of time so I can read a book I'm writing about and edit short story submission printouts. The lure is there, bigtime, every time I so much as walk by either of them. But I want to prove myself worthy of this new home, this new life. So far I haven't, but I don't plan on going anywhere, so I want to dig down deep into my mental reserves and figure out how to make the most of my time. I certainly know what doing the opposite feels like. Back to that, hopefully with good things to report sooner rather than later.

Help Loving Day earn $25,000 from Pepsi Refersh

All you have to do is click here and vote every day through February 28th by clicking a button to help Loving Day get a $25,000 grant from Pepsi Refresh.

Here are the goals of Loving Day:

* Educate the public about history in order to fight racial prejudice
* Establish a tradition of Loving Day celebrations
* Create a common connection between multicultural communities
* Build multicultural awareness, understanding, acceptance, and identity

Here's Loving Day founder Ken Tanabe talking about their mission:



From my 2006 Village Voice interview with Loving Day founder Ken Tanabe:

Loving Day falls just six days from Juneteenth. Any relationship? Juneteenth celebrates the liberation of slaves in the U.S. It's not officially recognized by the government or a Hallmark holiday, but it's huge. Churches, families, social groups, and organizations get together. I thought, "That's the way to do it." I wanted to take something historically negative and make it into a positive, to structure it around an event people can use every year to be reminded of this case and celebrate it.

Interracial couples have been legal for some time, but these are old wounds. People have a hard time talking about this subject because it seems so personal. They don't see it as part of the civil rights struggle.

Do you think it's about sex? It is and it's not. The laws were about marriage, but often also about sex. The laws would talk about unlawful fornication, adultery, concubinage, and cohabitation. Sex is a part of the conversation.

Do you have to be part of an interracial couple to attend Loving Day parties? The way I like to think about that is: If you wanted to march with Martin Luther King Jr., did you have to black? No. The holiday or idea is open to anyone who's against discrimination on the basis of race. It focuses on the relationship side of it, but it's really about racism and being against it. Also, these laws prosecuted everybody—regardless of face. People who value freedom and equality are offended and outraged at the idea that the law could discriminate this way.

Is there a specific goal you're trying to achieve? The goal is for the Loving decision to become a part of our civil rights history and be as well recognized as Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks. We need to make this part of our household language and everyday vocabulary. We know about Brown, Plessy, and lunch counter sit-ins, but relatively few know about Loving.

Do you get hate mail? Yes. Here's one of my favorites: "Pathetic site, what's next? Marrying your dog? You can't mix humans with black filth." One of my top five referrers was a white supremacist website advocating laws against interracial couples. It had burning crosses and Confederate flags. I was totally shocked.

Click here to vote for Loving Day to win a Pepsi Refresh grant.

New Michael Musto book in February 2010: Fork on the Left, Knife in the Back

BEA hasn't even started yet and I'm catching up on book publishing news!

Apparently, Village Voice gossip columnist Michael Musto has followed his editor Don Weise (who's a friend and was also the acquiring editor on my book Dirty Girls: Erotica for Women) from Carroll & Graf, who published his excellent La Dolce Musto: Writings by the World's Most Outrageous Columnist, to Alyson Books, for his latest collection, to be published in February 2010, entitled Fork on the Left, Knife in the Back. See my Mediabistro interview with Musto about the first book (among other things).

Here's what Alyson says about the book:

Fork on the Left, Knife in the Back is the latest zippy collection of columns and essays from Michael Musto, the popular columnist for The Village Voice and a mouthy groundbreaker who takes no prisoners. This collection zooms in on Musto’s favorite celebrities to punk (Sean Combs, Paris Hilton); New York’s most debauched and amusing nightlife experiences; and Musto’s own odysseys, as he talks about the art of TV whoring and the allure of kinky sex, pausing to don drag to imagine what it must be like to be him as Lindsay Lohan as Marilyn Monroe. Stopping for some actual appreciation, the section titled "Weirdos Are My Heroes" celebrates the oddballs and entertainers who’ve elevated the culture, shockingly including Jerry Springer and Sarah Silverman. The book also features an introduction written by Musto, as well as new pieces on universal fame in the new-media age, the state of the celebrity closet, and the appeal of blind gossip items.