I’m Quitting… 08:30:2007

Mood: Thinking
Listening To: Timbaland f. Keri Hilson – The Way I R
Notes: If you’re offended, leave it in the comments, not my email inbox.  Thank you in advance.

So I wish I knew how to embed youtube videos in my blog, because I find the oddest, funniest, and coolest videos that I have no idea how to show except to link you the way I did with the  song above.   But for now, I’ll be satisfied with linking you.  It’s better than nothing, right?  I hope so.

I’ve been surfing the web tonight, and I’d like to give you guys some more links to check out, from people who were also in the adult industry, in many different forms.  Strippers like JCs Girls, hookers like Annie Lebert, even porn addicts like XXX Church.  It’s all really interesting to me, because for an industry that touts helping people accept their sexuality, on top of earning billions of dollars a year, so many people are coming out to say that it was killing them.  Makes a person wonder, no?

Oh, make no mistake, I’m not here to preach… not in the slightest way.  I think I don’t really have a lot to say about it, because I’m still in the life, and have been for a long while.  Of course, those who are True Christians™ will say I’m going to hell, and those who were Really Bad™ will say because I’ve never sold my body for money that I’m not really included in the adult industry.  Phone sex operators are a weird bunch, really, caught in the middle of not good enough and not nearly bad enough to be included in any group.  It’s a weird caste system, the adult industry.  Oddly enough, just like the church.

Don’t get me wrong, I want to quit, badly.  I’ve wanted to quit for about 8 months now, for my own reasons… but the thing about it is really simple:  The electric company doesn’t listen to, “Jesus told me to quit my job.”

I’ve been told (and I’m not embellishing at all) by Christians and Ministers alike, “Just quit your job!  Who cares if your car is repossessed? God will provide for you!  Who cares if you can’t pay your rent, at least you’re not working in the industry anymore.”

Let me tell you something, that’s easy for you to say when you get a steady check every two weeks from your 9 to 5, and all your bills are paid.  It’s really easy to tell someone else to  screw up their life and credit, in the monetary sense, and quit a job with nothing else on the horizon.  How do I look, needing 3 grand a month to survive, and quitting my job to go work at McDonald’s for $800.00 a month?  I’ve had people say, “Just ask your parents for the money!”

“Okay, dummy, why don’t I do that,” I want to say, “and while I’m at it, why don’t I just subtract 14 years off my age so I can be in junior high school again?”

  On top of that, because it is super cool not to care about anyone else’s financial situation as long as your own is covered… super cool.

I’m not saying God doesn’t provide, don’t get me wrong.  I am saying that everyone’s situation isn’t the same.  Maybe his plan for me is to work and transition myself out, like I am doing.  I’m quite sure his plan isn’t for me and everyone around me to go broke while trying to keep up with my bills and obligations.  I’m quite sure of that one.

I mean… man… we’ve all got a story, and although they sometimes sound alike, they are all different, because we are all different.  So let me do this my way, and please, for God’s sake, don’t send me another email or message on myspace telling me about how I’m going to hell.  I can’t tell you anything about how this is gonna work out, but I can tell you for sure, one thing that isn’t going to happen is me going to hell.  Thank you for your love and concern though, seriously.

The adult industry is one, that oddly enough, usually provides a person just enough to get by, seriously.  Don’t ever let anyone play you and tell you that it’s easy to get rich off of it, because it isn’t easy.  Not by a long shot.  For example, if you go on the right places in places like Craiglist, you can find ads that companies post, saying things like, “Make up to $4,000.00 a month!  Work at home, simple, easy adult chat line, looking for talkative women with great personalities!  Call [number] and leave a message!”

Let me tell you something, seriously (and sometime I will really break it down and prove it to you, but for now…) there is no way anyone is going to make $4,000.00 in a month working a phone sex line.  The truth is, unless you’re a pretty high profile adult model or porn star, you’re not making that kind of money either.  Hookers, unless they are “call girls” (which is just a pretty name for girls who charge more because they have all their teeth and great bodies) , even have a difficult time making that type of money.

I’ll tell you who’s making that money and above though – A pimp.  You can call it whatever the heck you want to call it, I call it pimping.  Whether it’s a big dude who will knock your teeth out when he wants to do so, or a huge company that takes more than 85% of the revenue you make for them while you whore your voice out, it doesn’t matter, it’s a pimp.    $24.00 an hour sounds like a lot, until you realise you’re making the company $300.00 an hour.

That is pimping.  Starving people by giving them a somewhat impressive salary, and hiding how much they are making you with every disgusting word they say… that is pimping.

By the way, any ladies here looking for advice on getting started, I’m just gonna tell you the truth:  Even if you do find a company that pays “up to $24 .00 an hour,” you’re not going to make it.   Just FYI.  I’m sure I’ll tell you why another day, just for now, know that you’re probably going to make $10.00 or less an hour, and most likely it will be less.  I also advise you, if you think you won’t care or that you don’t need to worry about it, you’ll just be one more in the line of silly women who are getting pimped.  Don’t make this your slogan:

I’m not angry anymore, I’m not bitter… I’m just putting the truth out there.  I’m tired of people lying.  Phone sex operators all over will tell you what a great gig it is, and the truth is, it’s not a great gig.  It’s disgusting, you’re treated like a cooch without a brain, they talk to you whatever little way they want to that day, say things that affect your sex drive and your normal life, and you get a paltry, piddly, penny-ante check to compensate you for your trouble. 

I’m quitting.  Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but trust, I won’t be doing this too much longer.

Big Fat Fatty… You Big Fat Fatty! 08:28:2007

Mood: Contemplative
Listening To: Last Night – Diddy f. Keyshia Cole
Notes: If this has a crabby tone to it, it’s because I’m feeling crabby, people!

Is it so wrong that I like Press Play? In fact, my ex told me a long time ago that it was hot, but I don’t have that New York State of Mind, so I wasn’t feeling it. But the song Last Night? It’s just hot. It’s actually so hot that I can forgive P.Did./Diddy/Daddy/-insertnextnamehere- for being so glossy. I mean, let’s face it, I think the brotha probably wears more expensive lip gloss than I do. It’s worth mentioning, that’s all I’m gonna say, people. That’s it. He’s glossy! But I’m gonna let that go, because Press Play is really hot.

I’ll even forgive Keyshia Cole for being the reported diva that “sources” [meaning angry friends] say she is in her daily life. So she’s a diva, who cares? Her voice is amazing, and she’s the truth. You may not like K.C. or P.Did, but you can’t deny when something is fire.

Man, and can I say, I am literally exhausted today? I’m gonna say it anyway, without waiting for an answer. I’m exhausted. That feeling is actually how today’s blog came into existence.

Now Playing: It’s So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday – BoyzIIMen

I do love old school BIIM. Back to why I’m exhausted… Oddly enough, this week in my life, I’d already made the decision to actively join a gym and work my way up to working out 5 or 6 times a week. I’m an aggressive person, so I do everything in an aggressive way, like working out twice a day until I get where I want to be, and then doing some 3x weekly upkeep on where I’m at.

Now Playing: Movin’ On – Elliott Yamin

So today, I went to a little 24-hour spot around my way, no swimming pool or anything, but if I want to go watch cable and work myself into a frenzy on the elliptical, then I can do that, and it’s not expensive either. I’ve been thinking lately, why it seems like all phone sex operators are chunky, fat, or morbidly obese women. Now Now Now… NOW HOLD ON— I hear you already opening your mouth, I didn’t say we all are, I said it seems like we all are chubby ladies. So if you’re a phone lady reading this, or you know a phone lady, hold your horses, because I didn’t just say you were a fatty. I don’t want any mean emails coming through my inbox.

Truth be told though, most guys on the phone ask me, “So are you really 5’7” and 120 or are you fat and ugly like most people say phone sex operators are?

“No, dummy, I look like this all day.”

I’d like to say to them, “Even if I was fat and/or ugly, do you really think after you asked it that way I would tell you that I was fat and/or ugly,” then I’d pause for a long while and whisper, “ya silly son of a bitch.”

But instead I just and try to keep myself calm. Another day maybe, we’ll talk about how horrible the communication level of most of the callers is… but today, I’ll just talk about what simpletons they are sometimes. <laughs>

Now Playing: Stranger In My House (Club Mix) – Tamia

I digress, back to the truthful answer that I never provide to the callers. The truth is, I’m not 5’7″ and I don’t weigh 120 pounds. I’m 5’1″ on a good day, and although I’m not morbidly obese, or even “fat” (which I define as stomach larger than posterior end, has trouble climbing 5 stairs, etc…), I am a curvy girl. Chunky, fluffy, BBW, whatever you want to call it, I’m not a supermodel, and have never been one.

I know lots of ladies who have the same job I do, and they are all, without fail, heavy ladies. Now, I must pause and say, that word “heavy” is a blanket term and I’m using it to cover women who are 30 pounds overweight to 100lbs overweight as well. It’s always weird to me that people are so shocked that phone sex operators are big ladies. I mean:
1. She works 10 or more hours per day, sitting most of that time,
2. She doesn’t have to walk to her office from her car, she only has to walk from her bed to her office, if she even leaves the bed,
3. She doesn’t have an active job. She works, sits, eats, sits, poops, sits, sleeps, sits, reads, sits, watches, sits, emails, sits, works, sits… get it?

I mean, when it all comes down to it, it’s a great recipe for gaining weight.
You don’t do anything but sit and eat.

I have to confess, I fell into that pattern as well. I mean, a phone girl who is really about her money is working the craziest hours anyone can think of, because guys who call lines don’t call at “normal” hours. I mean, peak money-making hours are between 10p.m. and 4a.m., between 6a.m. and 7:30a.m., and between 5p.m. and 8p.m. (and that last one is kind of iffy, depending upon if the guy has a family he has to pretend he cares about, then there’s dinner to be served, people!).

Now Playing: I Drove All Night – Celine Dion

So we sleep odd hours and when you’re cooped up inside your house… well, let’s explore that, shall we? How many hours does the average person who works 40 hours per week and spends 30 minutes in the car each way spend away from the house? That would equal 45 hours for you slowpokes out there. Well, that’s 45 hours that I’m inside my house. Then, if I sleep 6 to 8 hours a day, that’s 42 to 56 hours… wait for it… in. my. house. Lastly, don’t ever let anyone tell you that this job doesn’t separate a girl from normalcy. If she makes friends, then great for her, but most phone ladies aren’t the most popular people you’ll ever meet, so the rest of her time is either with her kids, family, or by herself.

What am I getting at? It’s depressing. It’s a depressing job, and life, when you do it full time. Stress eating, depression eating, stuffing your face to stuff the feelings. It happens, and I’m a firm believer that the things I’ve said today are probably a huge part of the reason why most phone ladies are fatties. I say that word with love, because although I’m smaller now, I still consider myself a chubby bunny.

So, having said all that, I’ve decided to fight it, actively, before I wake up and find myself weighing 400 pounds, praying that I don’t choke on an Oreo while I talk to some stranger about adult activities. I jest! I kid! … I’d probably choke on a Fig Newton. I don’t like Oreos.

-Geisha

An Open Letter to Elliott Yamin: 08:26:2007

You made my work day go pretty easy… I listened to Movin’ On an estimated total of 73 times during the course of my evening. Thank you for such a kick-booty song, Elliott Yamin. You Rock.

Sincerely,
La Geisha
__________________________________

Mood: Surly
Listening to:Movin On – Elliott Yamin
Notes: None yet… but stay tuned.

So I decided that it would be a great idea to break my 14 hour workday up into two hour increments. This decision, was actually… oddly enough, not a mistake. Normally, it is a mistake, because after the first two-hour increment, I find a way not to do the second, third, fourth, or fifth one. The sixth one or the seventh ones either, just for those who are wondering.

Today, however, I just kept going back to the phone. It’s not because I enjoy it, but because I enjoy the money that appears (somewhat magically) in my mailbox every payday. I can’t lie though, sometimes I wake up and I just… know that I won’t be working that day. The trouble is actually when that day happens every day. Sam Cooke just came on my mp3 player, and I love this song… “O the moon belongs to everyone… the best things in life are free…” Don’t know if I necessarily believe that, but I believe Sam Cooke when he sings it. He didn’t just sing it, he saaaang it. The most enjoyable one minute and thirty seconds I’ve had in a while was the first time I heard it.

Now Listening To: Same Script, Different Cast – Whitney Houston f. Deborah Cox
[From Whitney’s Greatest Hits double cd]

I did have some really weird calls today, but more than the weird ones (cross dressers, the occasional closeted guy), I had so many… switchers today. Switchers are the guys who call and talk like they are just… God’s Gift™ to the ladies. They are funny, sweet, quirky, and don’t breathe like they have a pork chop wrapped around their throat.

The conversation progresses slowly, too. They want you to be comfortable with them… they want you to believe in them. Switchers will ask you your name, what your hobbies are, if you’re married, what you had for dinner today, the list goes on and on, really. They want a girl to feel like, “Hey, this guy is alright,” or “This is a guy I would marry.” An experienced girl has been expecting The Switch from the moment he said that he’d visited his mother in the nursing home that afternoon before going to confession with Father McGinty at Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow.

Then, it happens. The true Switcher is so opposite from his original caricature of ‘A Guy’ that when his true persona comes out, it’s like someone else got on the phone. Even the voice changes, no joke. A Switcher will tell you, “You’re getting me really excited…” and trail off, and then when the voice comes back, it’s like satan’s voice. It’s like how Christina Aguilera takes the mic away from her face and then puts it back again, really. The Switcher is singing this sweet song, like ‘A Song For You’ by Donny Hathaway, and then at the moment a higher note comes, he takes the mic away from his mouth, and comes back singing ‘F–k You Like An Animal’ by Nine Inch Nails.

He’s like,

“I really like youuuuuuuuuu-takes mic away, brings it back-BITCH I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

After having it happen for so long, it’s not really shocking anymore, but then again… never say never, I had some doozies today.

-Geisha

p.s. – You know you can blogroll or rssfeed me, right?