Sunday, July 15th, 2018 11:55am

Berkeley – Round Table


Dear You,

How do I catch you up on everything that’s going on (in my world, inside my head)? It’s a busy day and I woke up late (at 9:48am). But I feel really good.


Dear You,

It’s actually Monday (the next day) as I write to you about Sunday. This is what happens when my days are full.


(I might delete this part and write about Saturday night under Saturday)

My friend Z was in town and asked if she could stay over. Even though I was in monk mode, I said yes.  When she asked if she could her friend, L,  who also happens to be in town (I met her once, she gave me a tarot reading last year), I hesitated (more people to entertain) but then I just texted Z back, “I’m moving slow but I would love to see L.”

I was physically drained and in a slow out-of-it daze all throughout the day and didn’t think I could entertain/host anybody, but some part of me told me to say yes. It’s not often that both Z and D are in town.


When I woke up, Z was already gone. As she said she would be.


Was it the tarot reading?

The hot soak with 2 witchy friends.

Or us singing Ace of Base’s The Sign.

Or the really nice dream I had

That I can’t remember now.

But I feel amazing.


On the drive to the dungeon, I said out load, I’m going to build the world’s most intimate website.


As I was exiting the highway, I thought about telling Q that I once (or a few times) thought about changing my name to Q.



Just as I turned the corner, L was just leaving the studio. She’s in town for the week. Hi. How are you. Good. Then we went into it. She’s thinking of selling the house moving in September. To where she doesn’t know yet. What? Me too. We’re dommes, or just practical humans, we don’t want to be a slave to our crazy mortgages.


We say goodbye, maybe we’ll catch other at the dungeon before she leaves.


P2 has already set up the dungeon. Q arrives. With 2 books for me  by Hal Hoke and a bar of Hu Chocolates. How did she know that that’s my favorite chocolate? I haven’t mentioned them here.



More to write in detail.


While I try to get ready,

She tells me to keep on going, doing what I’m doing, or writing how I’m writing here to you,

Don’t change for anybody.

She doesn’t want to tell me what she thinks

Because she’s afraid it mightchange the way I write.

I tell her I definitely want to know.





She got to step on the CBT platform P2 made and step on his balls.


How she enjoyed shadowing me.


P2 was floating after his release. While in a daze he said he might want to try age regression. Not like adult baby but more like what I do with Cutie. I said that’s a great idea as I unzipped his body bag.




P’s flight was late so I actually got to pick him up straight from the dungeon.


When I came picked him up, he had a ton of white gauze wrapped around his elbow.

He looked like a sheepish little boy, who apparently fell of his bike that morning.


We got home. He drags the 71lb box in from the front door into the house.


He saw a picture of me P2 had taken, printed out and gave to me. I was sitting on the large stone outside in the backyard, I guess I looked like a bro with one foot on the stone other on the ground, and elbow on my propped up knee, he started laughing.

What? It’s the royal ease pose. That’s how Guan yin poses all the time.


My hands were too cold. He can’t bend his right elbow and his other hand was lubey, so we fucked without touching each other.


We made a grocery list on Evernote. Whole Foods. Home. Baked fish, brussel sprouts and carrot cake muffins in no time. Our divide and conquer approach in the kitchen is getting very fluid, efficient and stress-free. Huge improvement from 3 weeks ago.


Dinner was yummy. Remember the phases? Blue Apron? That was a waste we kept on throwing out boxes of food every week. Then we did TryCaviar all the time. And then we just ate out whenever you were back in town.

Remember your go to place with caviar?


Something sliders.


With the sweet potato fries

and you would always sneak in a chocolate milk shake



What I’m reading: The Book of Endless Sleepovers by Hal Hoke (Q gave to me)

What I put inside me: Lemoon lime tea; a big spring mix salad I made with blueberries, walnuts, 2 hardboiled eggs, avocado, tomato, raisins and an everything dressing I made with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, liquid aminos, red wine vinegar, apple cider vinegar (by accident), real salt, black pepper, thyme, cayenne, real garlic salt, Bragg’s organic sprinkle with 24 herbs, lemon juice and nutritional yeast), 2 Lula’s chocolate maca buttercups, 1/2 of Hu’s cashew butter and pure vanilla bean bar that Q gave me, walnuts, 1 small hit of Level’s Cherry Cheesecake from P’s vape pen, pistachios, baked sea bass with lemon butter and almond flower crust that I made (the last of the fish that S caught and gave me), baked brussel sprouts P made, a bite of the carrot cake muffin P made


Monday, July 16th, 2018


Round Table – Berkeley, CA


Dear You,

I feel funny. It might be everything that I put inside my hot drink concoction (see below), or the tiny nibble of the mushroom chocolate that I had on my altar (that my friend G made), or that it’s been a very meditative and writing intensive morning.


I wrote out by hand my first writing assignment for my memoir class. I find writing by hand is way more fluid and stream of consciousness.

Then I typed it up and posted in on the google group forum:


What I want to discover about myself in writing memoir is that 

I have a deep deep well of memories. 

And that I can remember more than I know. 

That’s it’s all there, 

every aspect of myself is embedded in every memory. 

And that the more I write it out 

the more I remember who I am.

I hope to discover a self 

that can flow with her words effortlessly. 

I hope to discover my wise self. 

Because I can feel the pause from my ego asking, 

Is this good enough to share? 

So I hope to discover a wise self who just doesn’t care 

what the world thinks.

I hope to discover a self 

who’s just writing for herself, 

to find herself, 

to find the words 

to remember what it was like back then 

and how did what happen back then 

make me me today. 

I hope to discover my soul 

is writing back to me, 

showing me 

what I sometimes can’t see. 

I hope to discover that it’s all there. 

Everything I need to remember 

is still all there inside me, 

waiting to come out.

I hope to discover this wise courageous self 

who writes without fear, who writes without shame. 

And if it is there, the fear and the shame, 

she writes it out, 

let it all out 

and be free from it.

I hope to discover my child self waiting to come through my words. 

I hope to discover the deepest most secret parts of myself 

and understand why, 

where does this depth come from. 

I want to discover that parts of myself that I don’t even know I’m hiding.

I want to discover the a-ha of myself. 

Of how it was always there, 

but it just needed my pen to find it. 

I want to discover that my story 

is my medicine. 

I want to discover that my medicine 

can be your medicine. 

I want to discover the truth that’s inside me 

waiting to come out.

I want to write until I cry. 

Cry out the truth that is me. 


I wrote until I cried and blew my nose 4 times then I knew I was done.


It’s not profound to anyone, I don’t think. It was really just for me. I feel like there’s something inside me that wants to come out. It keeps on repeating itself so that I can finally get it. I need to let it out.


I keep on thinking about what Q said, how she loves how there isn’t any artifice in my writing. Maybe I should’ve asked her what artifice meant.

I have an idea though. I think she means my writing isn’t florid.


Artifice (n.) – clever or cunning devices or expedient, especially as used to trick or deceive others


Q was concerned that my memoir class might change the way I write. I wanted to assure her that I’ll still be me in my writing. But maybe my writing might change.


It might be reassuring for Q to hear (from the writing teacher) the point of the course..

The point of writing in this course is not primarily to improve your writing per se – this is not a creative writing course – but to use writing as a means of discovering and articulating what is most true for you.
I just got a comment from the writing teacher about my first assignment. He says..

So glad that you thought to write with a pen and then transcribe it you way you have, in poetic form. So glad too that you were able and willing to write past your doubts and concerns about what it would look like unedited and raw – because now we have the real thing, that much closer to the truth than any edited version. The main thing with any writing, but especially memoir, is to reach for the truth, emotional truth more even than factual truth. And the more we write, the more we realize that truth has layers; layers that eventually reach all the way down to the wordless, which will always be our deepest truth, since we are and will always be a mystery to ourselves and to everyone. This is the journey you take when you hope to discover my wise self, as you say; that you take when youwant to discover the truth that’s inside me  waiting to come out.

Two of the lines that really jump out at me here are:

 want to discover that my story is my medicine. 

I want to write until I cry. Cry out the truth that is me. 


Thank you ___!



Well that was nice. I read some of my other classmates’ assignment. It was more detailed about who they are and their history. Mine was definitely more abstract.
Part of the writing process for this course is that we read our classmates’ writing and post comments.
I read one and replied:
Dear T,
I’m so glad you chose to live the story that you want to tell. And here you are, doing just that. I’m curious to hear more about that pivot point, the move from your home country to the states. I’m curious to hear what that transition was like. I’m curious to hear more about life in the 60’s and 70’s. Being 36 years old now, I think about that era, I wish I could’ve lived through it and experience what it was like to feel so alive with the possibility of a revolution. I still wonder if we have a chance in our lifetime to witness something similar. I think the younger and older generations have so much to learn from each other. It’s nice to know that we haven’t figured it all out yet (i.e., life) and with our writing to ourselves and each other, we might be getting closer to something..
I decide with this class to write without caring, words come out and it doesn’t matter how it sounds, as long it flows..
And yes, it’s true, I’m fascinated by ’68. I wish I was in the Bay Area and Paris then. I sometimes think, maybe I was there?  If I did have a past life. That would explain my affinity towards Berkeley and Paris.
Do you have spiritual home? A place where when you were there for the first time, you felt a strange intimacy to it. Inexplicable how much it felt like home.
Mine is Paris.
P is Tokyo.
Now that we’re talking about past lives.
I feel like I want to share with you EVERYTHING I write. Every text, every email (but I won’t (yet??)), every to do list, just so you can get a sense of how fickle my moods are, and how different I sound to different people.
I just love the idea of everything being potentially accretive.
This comes from my collecting/hoarding tendencies. Save everything. Reuse it in a different context. Nothing is wasted.
Did you read Week 2 yet? It’s not done, lots of details are missing.
I wonder when I’ll have the activation energy to create/jump into the next level of intimacy in my writing to you
I didn’t even tell you about my day yet..
I woke up to P getting out of bed, or was I curled beside him with Cutie, and he commented how little I was. I can’t remember. But I do remember him saying something about me being little and cute. And yes I was curled up. Anyways. I recorded my dream. It was intensely vivid. Here’s what I wrote in my journal (and I’m adding more details as I go):
I’m in a glass house on the beach, or more like, floating on top of the ocean, with surfers and boaters passing by. I was with P and some rich (charming) guy that never sleeps. He has such a big memory that he can do work and emails all day.
I help him tidy the spot around by moving some tiny beautiful lacquered chinesey benches. I open some drawers to his bureau to put away handfuls of pens but two of them are filled with stacks of money (with good plated sides, similar to the sides of a fancy bible), or “yang” as he calls it.
He was about to throw away some bags, a few were tote bags, one was a yellow Snoopy backpack shaped like Snoopy but yellow like Woodstock. I wanted to hold on to it because Snoopy (of that backpack) was actually holding a little bag (yes a bag within a bag making the little bag a really cool compartment of the backpack) and that bag was made of a yellow see through fabric that I was very drawn to. It’s like pantyhose see through but not stretchy but more thick and durable. I asked him if I can keep it for Burning Man and he said yes. I think his girlfriend was there, whom I was friends or acquaintances. Just in our mere interacting with each other in his space, we were very subtly flirting with each other. It was just the way we were happy to be around each other and talking to each other.
Thinking more about this guy, he was kind of like an Elon Musk character.
Powerful, brilliant, and quirky.
I hope people will describe me just like that. And maybe add Nice.
I remember Her telling me (in our more heated talks) that I was self-obsessed and a narcissist. As if it was news to me.
I said, I know. As if my self-knowledge of my narcissism took the wind out of Her sail.
Just so that she knows that I know, at some point I want to tell her that my anthropologist grad student boyfriend from my UCLA days called me a raging egomaniac.
And that was years before I became a dominatrix
And men paid me to call me a Goddess.
Can you imagine how much I’ve toned it down?
I thought I was a reformed narcissist (since 2014) when I started telling people they don’t have to call me Goddess.
It’s too much.
My god this hot drink everything concoction I made is getting to me. It’s too much. I’m eating tamari almonds to make myself feel better.
Or more fat.
Where was I? Oh right. I woke up recorded my dream. And asked P if he wanted some breakfast. He has to get to the office early, so I suggest some hard-boiled eggs (a breakfast first for us). He said yes and he’ll make a green smoothie and eat a carrot cake muffin from last night.
The one thing I learned from the Thomas Keller Masterclass is how to boil a perfect hard-boiled egg with a golden (just slighlty gooey) center.
You place the egg(s) in a small pot. Fill it up with water till it covers the top of the eggs. Then you turn on the flame and let the water come to a boil and once it does come to a boil, set a timer for 4 min 44 sec.
P doesn’t think he’s not gonna use my podcasting equipment for the zoom meeting with the investors. But he’ll bring it just in case.
I tell him everything that’s going on at the company is really good practice for him. In any other context with anybody else (well I guess other than me) he would’ve bailed, but here he has to do the opposite.
P asks if he can borrow the car, I said yes. It’ll be good for me to stay put. And write to you.
P always makes a mess when he cooks. But he cleans in his OCD way. This morning I told him not to so he can take off for the city sooner.
I spent the next hour cleaning, very meditatively..
My prayers to GuanYin are almost wordless now. But I do try to say thank you for this day, for this home, for P, for my mom, dad, sister, stepdad, for Her, for all my friends and everybody who’s helped me be where I am today. I thank Guan Yin for the opportunity to be like her. May the words flow..
It’s another beautiful sunny day in Berkeley.
If I was a normal domme, I would take advantage of this home and do more photoshoots. Before it’s too late.
I’ve been writing since 10am. It started with my morning pages. Then the writing assignment. Then to you. It’s 2:44pm.
I haven’t even caught you up on yesterday and Saturday night.
My stomach feels so heavy. It’s from that crazy drink I made.
I gotta lay down. And read. Or watch a film.
I should be doing the finances for the dungeon.
I’m 7 months behind.
I should be replying to people.
I should be making lip balm.
I should be planning for my NY trip, which is this Wednesday.
She’s coming back tomorrow, midday. And staying for a week while I’m away. We’ll have half a day of overlap.
I’m not ready.
P3 texted to see if I got NY interviews set up for Monday and Tuesday. Oh fuck. I haven’t reached out to anybody yet.
I text L, L2 and D. Should I text K? I do. I’m having trouble describing this doc. It’s about sexwork and kink. Me and my friend (who’s a film student?) are doing it? It sounds so lo-fi. Maybe they won’t even want to be in it. But they’re my friends? Jesus. I’m afraid I might take it personally and get super bummed if I don’t hear from them.
I reply to D telling him I can chat today at 4:30pm and would love to meet C, a japanese pro domme he’s stayign with.
I took a shower. Because I thought maybe D and I were gonna do a Facetime conference call around 4:30. But there’s a good possibility that he had a late night (in Tokyo) and won’t wake up till way later.
They had a late night.
I watched the video of L singing to I. It’s so damn cute the way she sings. I’ve never heard her sing before. And the way she looks and plays to the camera (or I holding the camera). It’s too much.
P comes home. He had an amazing day at work. A complete turnaround from his feelings about it even from this morning.
Dysfunction only exists in duality, he says.
I turn on the volcano. I’m intentionally getting high.
P’s on the biomat. I show him this notebook book I got from Issues. It’s a book that looks like someone’s pocket notebook because it is, or was. It’s a copy/replica of of this guy’s notebook.
P thought it was super cool. To my surprise.
July 23, ’69
Alan Saret calls me up 5:30am (July 24). I visit him, dig his space, eat melon, smoke hash, we have very good idea and info exchange, I get home 8 AM
Maybe I should take a clue from him and write more tersely.
D flips around. When was the moon landing? July 20th 1969?
I checked, yep, that’s right.
He wanted to see if he wrote anything  about that.
Closest thing he got to the date was July 19, 1969. Yesterday trip on mescaline (with Jake Piersol, who supplied dope. Hallucinate flowing molecules in matter, breathing floors, etc. No. hrs high: Abt 7.
Remember when getting cannabis was something super special and noteworthy? P asked.
P blew the leaves, I hop in the hot tub, wait, it’s not that hot. Abort. I suggest we hike to the lake.
We hike to the lake. P snaps portraits of me and Cutie. Gotta use that portrait mode in the iPhone, that black blackground might work well against Pervette’s black background. Objects appear as though they’re floating.
We made it to the lake, we went right, had to grab hold of roots to climb down, we crossed the same bridge I crossed last time.
We sat on rock on the edge of the water watching  the ducks come toward us and
High school girls in bikinis jumping off cliffs and diving into the water. There was one with a British accent who was too afraid to jump but after 15 minutes or so, she finally followed her friend in and made a
D was getting cold as the sun was getting lower, so we continued walking.
Have you caught any fish yet? I asked the two Azn guys in hoodies who are throwing their line into the water.
No we just got here.
An Asian girl (friend of theirs?) is on a lawn chair hanging back on her phone.
P calls an uber. Eat out? It’s 8. Iyasare closes at 8. Penrose is closed now, I report to P,  the owner got #metooed
P googled the news and reads to me the things the owner said to his female employees
If a pizza dough is formed properly, it should feel like a fat girl’s tits
We got home and lost momentum for Limewood. We get on our phones. How about Clove and Hoof?
It feels like old times. Flagging the caviar driver in the dark with our headlamps,  me plating our food, reheating our food in those super bad for you machines i.e., microwaves
D calls it a night.
I’m concerned about my busy day tomorrow.

What I put inside me: Lemoon Tea, 2 hardboiled eggs (Thomas Keller style), a small glass of green smoothie P made, a carrot cake muffin P made last night; a hot drink concoction with chocolate whey protein, hemp protein, Dandy blend, Gaia Herbs golden milk blend (tumeric root, cardamom, aswagandha, vanilla bean, black pepper), 3 kinds of Maca (Navitas gelatinized maca, MacaForce, and Royal Maca) Mucuna Pruriens, collagen peptides, cacao powder, ground ginger, ceylon cinnamon, nutmeg, paprika, black pepper, vanilla bean powder, vanilla extract, Nunatural monkfruit, cayenne, Real salt, He shou wu, coconut oil, mct oil, flax oil, one slightly ripe banana, mint leaves from garden (it was super yummy at first then it got heavy in my tummy); tamari almonds, another carrot cake muffin, a nibble of some Catalyst Cuisine energy bar P brought on the hike, little gems and summer squash salad, fish sauce caramel friend chicken, a nibble of the C & H burger from Clove and Hoof via caviar; Tummy Tulsi tea


What I’m reading: Private Book 2 by Lee Lorenzo, The Night of Endless Sleepovers and Genevieves by Hal Hoke


Tuesday, JUly 17th, 2018 12:12pm


Dear Yuo,

There’s a lot to do today. I was feeling anxious when I woke up. P’s advice to me was:

DOn’t make lip balm.



I was painting P’s penis blue with coloring pencils in my dream. WHen I woke up the message to me was: drink more water.

True. I haven’t been drinking that much water.




I need weeks alone to do Pervette right.


I’ve been holding out on you. I have ideas on how to make this more intimate. SHould I tell you? Or should i show yuo? This is always my question.



She’s coming home today. I don’t know when. My messages to her aren’t getting delivered. The last exchange was a picture of pink/white peonies she took and sent to me. I tihnk shr thinks I’m not looking forward to see her becasue she hasn’t heard from me.

This house is a mess.

I got a session at 1pm. I gottta go.



Dear You,

Ugh. I just wrote a ton and I didn’t hit SAVE in time and some glitch happened and now everything is gone.


I have to start all over.




When I got back from my session I thought She would be home. But she wasn’t. That gives me time to put the house back together. I made a green smoothie.


Around 6pm I texted her just as she was texting me

That she missed Her flight.

She’s gonna catch another flight tomorrow.

She asks what time am I taking off, will we get to give each other goodbye hugs?

I told Her I’m leaving here at 8:45am

We exchange sad and disappointed face emojis.


It’s okay, I text Her, we’ll catch each other in good time.

Enjoy your extra day in LA (sunglass face, rainbow, sun emoji)!

I love you.



I had a feeling that would happen.







Dear You,

I’m almost done packing. There was no way I could’ve given Her quality time under these conditions. I mean I have to pack all this camera gear for the documentary interviews. And all these domme outfits. And I do this thing where I clean the whole house, attack piles, as I pack. It’s an OCD thing. I think that’s prolly why I wasn’t ready to see Her today. I would’ve gotten carried away in our conversations and put off packing until the morning. And frantically run out the door and most likely miss my flight (that did happen on my last trip to NY, twice, flying there and back). I needed this whole night to pack.


I missed Her call at 9:48pm. She has a new number now.

I’m the first one to know, She says.

I was on the landline talking to P3 about which lenses to pack.


I’m still manic awake, thinking about which notebooks I want to bring with me.


I gotta go to bed. Waking up at 7. P2 is arriving at 8:15am. Still have just the last bit of packing to do..

P.S. I drank lots of water today. I notice I wasn’t as hungry.

P.S. I did not get to make lip balm.

Things I’m packing: toiletries, vitamins (14 per day X 7 days =a lot of vitamins in individual plastic pill baggies), cannabis (Level tablinguals and Pax cartridges), mushroom chocolates, acid (just in case), 4 rompers, Canon 5 D, 2-3 lenses, batteries, veil, audio recorder, snacks, 2 domme outfits, heels,


Wednesday, July 18th, 2018 10:17am

SFO Terminal 1 Gate 41

Whoa. I made it to the airport. On time. With time to spare to write you. That’s weird.


I just got an animoji from P, apparently he missed his flight yesterday too.


2:32pm PST

Delta Flight 474

I carry-on all my “plant medicine.” You can check in acid. They can’t detect it.

On my cannabis cartridges, it has a laser engraving that reads E-Cigarette.

On my not specially marked cartridges, you can sometimes rub the words “sativa” or “indica” off with 99% alcohol.

Really clean extractions of cannabis is going to change the world.


I just noticed my ticket is missing 6 important letters at the top

Where’s the TSA Pre on my boarding pass?


I’m not gonna freak out that I have to take out my liquids, laptop and take off my shoes and hoodie. I have a camera and 4 lenses and plant medicine. They might want to go through my suspicious looking camera backpack. Who knows what’s gonna happen when you’re in the regular line. I’m gonna feel like cattle being herded.


I scan the the check-in counters: Self-check-in, self-bag drop, Delta main cabin check-in, Delta Sky Priority, Special Services. Special Services? Is that for First class? There’s one person in line, if they redirect me it’s cool, not that time will be wasted.


The lady in front of me in the Special Services tells me to go in front of her. I get a nice gal and hand her my phone for her to scan my ticket. I ask her if I can add my TSA Pre number, she said yes. Yay! I asked her why it wasn’t on their originally. Something about my birthday being wrong but she fixed it.


I put my suitcase on the scale.

My luggage weighed 45 lbs. Not bad. I thought it was 4-5 lbs lighter than usual. I can tell by holding a piece of luggage if it’s over 50lbs or not. I kinda love playing that game to see how close I can get to 50 but not go over. The best is what it’s 50.3 and the kind folks of Delta let you get away with it. Or when you’re 3 lbs overweight and you pull out the bag of fruit and it turns out that that bag of fruit is exactly 3 lbs, so you carry it on.


it’ll get even lighter after I consume the 3 lbs of lemons, use the baby wipes, give B’s daughter, Y, her present (it’s a star lamp with a smiley face on it), and eat all my snacks.


I always feel like a criminal going through security.

Just act nonchalant and unassuming. Sometimes they have a dog they like to walk down and around the winding security line (usually in the morning) with an officer-like TSA person walking the dog, it’s usually a man and he never looks friendly.


The dog sniffs

I hold my breath and smile.


Dog walks on by



I always think I’m gonna pack only one Dommey lingerie outfit. but I always end up packing 4-5. It’s not like I’m even sessioning. I just can’t help it. You never know.

Plane time is my time to do whatever I want in my seat. I got Cutie, I got snacks, I got my music on my phone I can listen to and daydream/vision the future. Or I can read my book, Reality Hunger. Or I can even watch an in-flight film



Holy fuck. Someone is trying to airdrop me a school portrait of a 12 year old boy from the seventies. Every time I hit “decline” they airdrop bomb me right away. Over and over again. I screencap it.

This is the modern age prank


What do I want to do?

I scan the film selection.

Human Flow by Ai Weiwei (he’s that neat artist, I think) looks promising. It’s 2hr 22 min.

Human Flow Elucidates both the staggering scale of the refugee crisis and its profoundly personal human impact, following stories across the globe.”


Joy that David Russell film that came and went last year.

“Joy centers on a young woman who founds a business dynasty and becomes a matriarch in her own right.”

That’s a pretty catchy logline. Even though the word, “founds” sounds grammatically incorrect and clunky.

I like the words “business dynasty” and “matriarch in her own right”

I like David Russell’s humor

And Jenifer Lawrence

I liked her ever since I saw her in Winter’s Bone (which reminds me maybe I should catch that new film by the same director,   )

And I remember liking her even more when I randomly saw someone interviewing her on the red carpet, and she puts her hands in the pockets of her fancy awards dress and exclaimed, “Oh my god, this thing has pockets!”


So Joy it is…

I took notes:


I pack my lighter MacBook Pro on this trip. I don’t think I’m gonna do any heavy duty film editing on this trip, I don’t think.


When you’re ADHD, OCD, and think you can adopt new habits on your trip (new context),  you will pack more vitamins, psyllium husk, activated charcoal, tinctures, then you’ll need.

Maybe this is the trip I start using that micro-needle. Or not.

I leave behind my Sonicare toothbrush and just pack my Radius toothbrush (I usually carry both). Trying to be spatially efficient.

I only pack one book, Reality Hunger.  That’s amazing. Because I usually pack 4.

A borrowed my book, Happiness Hypothesis, when she was in town and staying with me. I’m gonna ask for it back. So I’ll have two.

And if I need more, I can always buy more.

I love the curation of that one McNally bookstore or whatever it’s called.


Surburbicon is on the screen of the guy next to me. He’s in his 30’s, glasses, sipping white wine from the mini bottle.

The grey haired lady next to him, said she likes that film. She saw it at the show. With her and husband like it.

Oh yeah. I was on the fence, then you made it easy for me.

It’s good, but weird.

I like weird. weird works.

I know me too. You gotta like weird nowadays, she says.


Hearing this conversation is very reassuring.



I thought I was I carrying one piece of luggage and a carry on camera backpack. But it’s always the last 3 minutes before I’m out the door that I need everything that’s in the pile next to the circular sink. I already filled up my backpack. So I shove cloth bags within my mesh circular bag. A bag that holds my books, a bag that holds my snacks, a bag that holds pens, sticky tabs, Cutie and my notebooks.


I love stores like Reformation and Daria Tulum that gives you a small cloth tote bag to hold your purchased goods. Those bags make the perfect note/book bags that you can put right beside you on the plane.


I want to make the perfect mesh or some sort of see-through book bag


…MOre to write



Manhattan, NY


Dear You,

I made it to NY.

I just took a long bath (and filmed it)

When I came out, I saw that I missed Her call.

She also texted me:




The Pantry.

And she took a picture of the New Yorker clipping I left for Her on the table next to the Guan Yin statue…




I called Her back on Her new number. She picked up…




I was so in the writing mood an hour ago.

Now I’m so ready for bed.

Don’t worry I took lots of notes in my notebook throughout the plane ride and at the park.

I’ll share it with you tomorrow and fill in all the gaps of today..

I just wanted to to write you a little something now just so you know that I didn’t forget you.

And that I’m serious about this writing to you.

Daily if I can.


How funny that you’re discipling me.

Or that the thought of you makes me want to discipline myself.


Good night you..





What I put inside me: Lemoon Tea, 2 Level Elevate tablingual, 1 Level Sooth tab lingual, pistachios, Lulu’s Raw Love chocolate bar, 1/2 veggie wrap, Smart water, airplane black tea, tamari almonds, walnuts, a large Fuji apple, Level Elevate vape (when I got off the plane, when I got to B’s lace, when we hung out at Bryant Park), spring rolls from Whole Foods, Hu Puffed Quinoa Almond Butter Chocolate, lemon tea, 



Thursday, July 19th, 2018 12:28pm

Manhattan, NY


Dear You,

There’s a lot going on today. Gonna meet with A for lunch at 1:30. Then go to the Araki show with L around 3:30. Then dinner with L and B at 7:30.


I’m fretting over my outfit for the Breakup Bootcamp. I wanna be in domme attire for the reveal, but maybe it’s too much?

Maybe I need a pencil skirt to throw over my lingerie?


I just found out that the reporter of the London Times is covering this Breakup Bootcamp this weekend. There will be a photographer there on Sunday.

That’s why I’m fretting about my outfit.



I gotta posts feedback to my Dare to Memoir classmates first assignment, liek right now.


I gotta go..




Dear You,


Just as I would expect this is what happens when my days are full, I don’t have the time or bandwidth to write to you as much as I want to.

My saving grace is that I did take notes in my notebook and on the blank pages of the Happiness Hypothesis book (A returned it to me)

I’ll try to give some bits of my day so I can fill in the rest later


Texted with L on skirts to borrow, we’ll meet tonight for dinner and she’ll being them over


Did I do my writing assignment right or wrong? The teacher told us to mention where we’re writing from. Was I supposed to incorporate that into the assignment or in the preface leading up to it? Lots of people are dis the former?

I comment on someone’s writing but I’m not focused. I gotta go meet Amy


I take the train. Withe the metro card that L gave me the last time I’m here. I’m just starting to use the train. It’s new to me.

Maybe in a couple more trips, I’ll become a public transportation snob.


(referencing a Whit Stilman film)


A asks how I’m getting my stuff to Burning Man.

A Uhaul we’re splitting with friends and paying somebody with a burning man ticket to drive it? I think

She asks if we can carry some kombucha for her. That would make her week.

I ask if she has a google doc of burning man supplies.


She says she has the most extensive Burning Man list (that’s gone viral) and it has all the links to Amazon, that’s constantly getting updated and refined as she product-tests everything.

I love OCD Asians.


She’s got a book deal.

And a film.

Her plan is to tap the relationship market in Europe then Asia.

The most successful people have a maniacal focus, she says.


Do I need to change anything in my workshop this time around?

No, it was perfect.  She said it was the highlight of the whole retreat last time.

Your performance was amazing. Do you remember what you did?

Vaguely. I was improvising.

Yeah, it seem like you were completely in it. And we were all in it with you.


And then she told me step by step what I did.

She remembered everything I said and did.

Every shame I professed.


And how I started stripping

My clothes and

My layers of shame


Then she thought of something..

She said there’s one thing I could do differently.

The last time you told the group your real name in the middle of the performance time.

Oh right.

And you know how you took off your veil at the end.


This time, when you take off your veil at the end, thats when you tell them your real name.

Holy fuck. Yes.


And just like that, A gave me my ending.


How I come out in the workshop is how I come out to the world.


She says we gotta have that filmed.


Funny because I was just gonna ask her if we can film that for the documentary. But I didn’t even have to.


She said a lot of stars and famous people were invisible as kids.


That makes perfect sense.


I used to fantasize about getting attention. About being loved.



I invite A to dinner with me and B and L tonight.

She says yes.


We started walking towards the Museum of Sex.

On the way was Untitled, the super boozhy Burning Man store

We went in. I tried some seemingly cute pieces that didn’t fit right.


Then we went to another Burner vintage store on the way, and serendipitously, Hu Kitchen was right next door.

Q said (after she gave the Hu chocolate bar) that I have to go there.

And so of course I did. I wish I can eat lunch twice. Instead I got the Matcha Me Crazy with CBD oil smoothie and shared it with A.


D can’t make it to to dinner tonight, can I invite another cute Asian girl to join us? I text B.

Of course, he replies.


L’s client from 7-8 confirms.


Change of plans, instead of Araki show at Museum of Sex, I go to Brooklyn to her place, she’s in a gingham romper and sick in bed, but looks just as cute, if not more. I go for a walk with her partner, we have 30 min, they grab a slice of pizza and we walk and talk, I took a bite from their pizza, oh wow, it tastes like school pizza, there’s something to it. They’re super bummed. Their heart is getting splintered.


They’re so devoted.

That how it hurts the most.


Their story reminds me of The Story of Adele H.

It feels so tragic.

But that was Victor Hugo’s daughter

And that was before the internet

And before They knew me


Do narcissists always think they can change people’s lives?


Crazy how we’re spontaneously both selling our houses at the same time.


We walk to Beacon’s Closet. A2 introduces me to their 2 friends, G and C, just as they need to head back to check on L. You guys should hang out.

Uh ok.

They’re both queer. It’s a no hug kinda greet. I think they’re friendly underneath the awkward queerness. The super pixie cute one, G, is super awkwardly cute.

I tell them I have about 15-20 min (because I don’t feel like barging into their time and I gotta get back so I can write to you some before I head out to dinner)

So I perused Beacon’s Closet with them. And we walk back to L’s place.

C buys all her clothes from Beacon’s, well except for socks and underwear.


C thinks L’s place feels like a hotel.

We think it’s the large unit numbers by the door.

It kinda feels like a stripped down Kimpton hotel


Awkward goodbyes..



Do queers think I’m queer?


I think the reason why most sexworkers are queers is because they know it’s ALL a performance. This whole gender thing.



I hop on the L back to Manhattan. Get off at 14th St. Instead of hopping on another the A C E or something, I walk 20 or blocks home. Streets are closed off for blocks. I ask a passerby what’s going on. They’re filming something.

At the magic hour.


I got back at 7:11. Dinner’s at 7:30. B isn’t home yet.

I text B.

Oh we’re meeting there.

It takes 15 min to get there by car, 21 min by foot.

I quickly change from a romper to a dress

And grab an uber


He’s the white guy in the suit.

She’s the cute asian girl with long lashes.

I give them descriptors to find each other since I’ll be arriving late.



A kid in a black audi cuts off my driver, honks and yells at him

He laughs it off, Jersey drivers, he says.

Oh yeah, I think he is right.

These people don’t know that karma is real, he says. They think there’s no such as consequences, but there are..


I sometimes think about the appeal of lash extensions and eyebrow microblading. Effortless beauty.

But then I think I want the option to be plain. To blend in and not stick out when I want to.


I arrive at 7:44

B and A are seated and telling each other their story.



B and his wife are opposites, she’s an extrovert. He’s an introvert. They spend 2/3 of the time together.


I knew B when we thought him having a baby was going to to ruin his life.


Now he wants to crank out a baby every 3 years so he can constantly have a 3 year old around.



A told him her story for heartbreak to life’s calling.


Pain is the biggest motivator for change.

Or instigator.



I’m glad B outed himself to A.


The conversation always gets more real (and interesting) after you out yourself.


How did you know that you’re into this?

It’s like knowing that you’re gay.




A dominatrix gives you peace.


It’s about the trust.

It’s about the ritual.


It’s not about pain, but restraint.


And then she stuck her electric sound into my urethra.


And that’s how I came.


wishlist item:


It changed her life.


I’m into life-changing things.

And life-enhancing too.



I think she wanted to know if you had sex with your clients.

Oh really? What made you think she wanted to know that?

Because most people think that.



The weather was perfect. 82 degrees.


L2 never made it to dinner. Her 7-8 session kept on extending until 11 or so..




It’s 1:41am. I supposed to be up by 6am to pack and get ready to meet A.

But I’m laying in bed remembering what I have to tell you, and I keep on gettignup, opening my computer, and writing to you. filling in the gaps.



I’m so awake, maybe I should pack now and sleep in a little in the morning.


Body memory. I only slept an hour the night before the Friday we took off for upstate NY in April when I did my first workshop at the Breakup Bootcamp.

I was so nervous. Everything I had planned for the workshop I chucked out the window. Now what?


This time around I’m not nervous. Just very awake. And wantng to keep on writing to you as if I don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.


Note to future self: need to make distinction of L’s: L1 and L2


What I put inside me: Lemon tea, walnuts, The Something Grains bowl with an extra egg at WestBourne, Organic Matcha Making Me Crazy smoothie at Hu Kitchen, a bite of a slice of pizza at Pizza & Pasta (in Williamsburg), scallops, Kellari Chips, (sustainable) salmon, lentils and  and the kormos chocolate desert thing at Kellari Taverna


Friday, July 20th, 2018 5:39pm



Dear You,

We made it to the giant estate on Hudson. The property is gorgeous, there’s a goat, donkey, tiny horse (possibly a chetland pony), 2 dogs, pond, pool and yoga house. I don’t know how A keeps on finding these magical properties (or maybe they find her?).


So much has happened. It’s insane.


I took notes in my notebook


Will catch you up later.

There’s something unfolding here.


Saturday, July , 2018 11:11pm



Dear You,


There’s too much to write to right now.

I will catch you up on everything once I can.


My 4 hour workshop is tomorrow. And the women here (including the other facilitators and chef) are very curious about it.


The thing is

I am too.


Because I don’t know what’s going to happen.

I only have a half plan.


A wants me to replicate what I did last time.

I’ll take some parts for sure

But I can’t duplicate it.

If I do,

then I might lose the magic

That comes from

not knowing

how a conversation

and dance will unfold.




I’ll let you know how it goes..








To my previous week

To when you said yes for the first time