call girl, escort, and plain old prostitute.

I’m feeling rather good today.
Now just cos I said that – God, please don’t take it away. Why would he though, huh? It would just be me that fucked it, right?
So, last night I spoke to my boy, or should I say ex-boy. (I don’t like when people use a simple ‘ex’ to refer to their ex-partners. It’s ex- boyfriend, ex-girlfriend, ex-boy, etc, etc... I don't like a plain 'ex.' Sorry I can be odd like that. Don’t ask... it just gets up my nose.)

He’s lovely, my ex-boyfriend. I really like him. He’s a sweet guy – and sooo sexy. He's a bloody handsome chap,my fella, but still we couldn't be happy... But now, I feel much better that we’ve broken the weird tension that’s been stifling us over the past 11 days. We spoke properly about what happened between us on that fateful saturday, and it brought relief to both of us.

I hate all that non-speaking, pensive, anxious bullshit that comes with a break up, don’t you? I know it’s part of the process but I’ve always been one to cut corners where ever possible, so if having a few minutes sincere chat with my fella helps us both realise that we’re not isolated and neither of us hates the other – so be it. Why go cold turkey?
I don’t know what will happen in the future, but I do know one thing – one of my friends and I are now going on the holiday I booked, that meant for me and my fella! Yaaay! Can’t wait... we’re gonna have fun, sun and ... well, we’ll see what’s on offer when we get there...

Me an L have been away together a few times. From Miami, (after I’d met three guys who lived there, while I was in the Dominican Republic) – to Egypt last year.

L is vibrant, sexy, wise and bright. She's astute and very beautiful which makes a lethal combination. But thankfully for the guys who fall for her – she’s got integrity, so will rarely fuck anyone over. She’s far better at dealing with ‘situations’ than I am. You know tricky situations - usually the kind that involve men. She gets herself into the same stuff...
She’s a clever girl,L, and another thing that adds more balance to our escapades – she doesn’t drink alcohol either. Same reasons as me – but the sex she had was for nothing except lust, oh, and I’m sure she wont mind me saying – possibly the occasional sympathy fuck.... but who hasn’t done that? Err.... actually don’t answer that.

So, it’s this G20 malarkey in London today; riots everywhere. I have no major opinion on this stuff. I never really get to know too much detail because it doesn’t interest me enough. Neither does all that stuff about ‘Prostitution or drugs be legalised...’ – I don’t effing know... why should I?
I don’t mind admitting that I don’t have an opinion on everything – why would I? That doesn’t prove blinkers, lack of intelligence, or self centredness ( well, maybe a bit of this) it just means I don’t have thoughts on the said subjects.
I can’t bear people giving opinions on stuff they don’t know detail about. I can waffle on about anything, virtually, but some subjects I’d rather not claim to be knowledgeable about, simply because I’m not - and I’m comfortable with that.

“I don’t know” is a line I use with ease and with no fear of my intelligence being questioned. I know too much to worry about not knowing about The G20 or the possible social consequences of drugs and whoring being legitimised.

Why the hell should I have an opinion on the legalisation of drugs? Just ‘cos I used to take them? So what? Same with prostitution... Some hookers, past or present feel they must become advocates of sexual freedom or become the media’s mouth piece for legislation on prostitution. Bollocks to that. Don’t get me wrong, they can have their opinions, but me, I don’t feel passionately enough about it to wave a banner or claim to have answers.

I’d love to be able to chat with and advise working women on an individual basis about how they can be safer or how they can find help to change their lives - but an over all opinion on the sex industry as a whole. Nope. I don’t have that.
I don’t even like the expression ‘Sex industry’ – if we’re talking snatch for cash – you’re a prostitute, either in film or in a hotel room, or a street corner, you're a prostitute. And if you take your clothes off for a living - you’re a stripper. You’re not an exotic dancer. Simple.
All this ‘Call girl,’ ‘Escort’ business, trying to ease the blow really doesn’t do women who are, or have been involved in this world to accept their realities.

Believe me when I first started using the term, ‘Prostitute’ it stung. Despite some hookers who claim that ‘They’re not ashamed of what they did/do', Err, so why don’t you say it how it actually is, then and call yourself an (ex)-‘prostitute,’ instead of ‘Call girl’ since you’re so fucking unashamed. Stop hiding behind a mask of niceties.
It actually helps the denial process when overcoming past antics – to use the original dictionary term. It helps face the reality of ‘The game’.... (Odd description, but relatively tolerable since it gives the impression of being a ‘Hip Hop Queen’ who spends her ends on bling. Hollllllaaa!)
I couldn’t believe when even my Psych suggested I use the word ‘Escort’, instead of the P word when I was talking with her. Why? So, to make her feel more comfortable I use ‘Hooker’ – I like that word. It sounds naughty unlike ‘Prostitute’ which sounds dark and ominous and that reality makes people feel uncomfortable, right..?

Anyway enough waffle from me for another day... I got stuff to do. i.e drink tea, try and straighten my hair and speak to L about holiday arrangements.
Sardinia isn't going to know what's hit it!