If you want something done right, do it yourself.

I forgot to put this into my last blog post (published 15 minutes ago) so I'm just writing a new one instead of editing the other. So if you're very confused go read my last 2 posts before this one.

Disclaimer: No need to flame me for this one, though it may well ruffle some feathers. I just need to vent. This is disjointed and rambling stream of consciousness. Please know that mostly when I criticize people, I'm really criticizing myself.

Boy, I burned out on this lifestyle really fucking quick.

The one good thing to come out of the craziness with this scumbag (who lives on Mountain Road in Lovettsville VA, and who WILL try to get you to go back to his house with him the day you meet him!) is that I am 1000% more resolved in my job hunt. I am sick of waiting around for SDs to come through, sick of panic attacks and nervous crying fits when my bank account drops below 3 figures, sick of relying on other people for help. I want to spoil myself with MY OWN FUCKING MONEY. I want to put MY OWN MONEY in my gas tank. I want to take my boyfriend out on MY DIME, not someone else's. I am so sick of feeling uncertain about cashflow all the time. Sometimes you just have to hit bottom to really resolve yourself to change something shitty in your life - when I got that email, that was it. The bottom of the abyss. The end of a fantasy life that amounted to nothing but castles in the sky. The beginning of the 12 step program.

Did I say the one good thing? Cause there was another. Fuck fucking this guy. The only guy I want to fuck is my boyfriend. The last boy, I messed up a lot. I fucked other guys lots of times. I was restless, he was abusive, it was too painful to try to get away so I hid inside of affairs. By the time I was 19 I was so, so jaded. The spark was gone, we didn't love each other any more but we NEEDED each other, if you know what I mean. It was totally dependent and unhealthy.

Fuck all that drama. I'm not messing this one up. I'm not fucking another guy, even if I don't love him, even if he has money. I want to straighten the fuck up and fly right. I want to live my life with pride and with no cloud of fear lingering over me - fear of being found out, fear of NOT being found out. This is too good. I want to marry this boy. And when you get that feeling, that marrying feeling, you give up on bullshit like this because you've suddenly got a timeline for getting your shit together. I want a decent job now that will get me through college so I can get a good job in the future so I can take care of me, him, and our beautiful babies. That's how fucking serious I am.

But, dear god, this is America! And what is America without the lure of easy money around every corner?

In a way, I was very relieved when the scumbag pot said he could not do dinner + encounter. Because it meant I would not have to fake (well, semi-fake, but you know what I mean) being something I wasn't. If he had just wanted straight vanilla sex, I doubt I would have gotten anywhere near as pissed, because then I would not have spent 12 straight hours mentally preparing myself to take on a certain "role" (dominatrix). That's what was so great about Mr. Sexy - I was really, truly myself with him. If we had fucked, I wouldn't have to fake a second of it.

However, I sent him a polite email yesterday evening thanking him again for lunch and asking him if an allowance might fit into our daddy/daughter dynamic, now that we've met in RL and know we're compatible in all the right ways - I even mentioned that I was fine with the physical aspect as long as we took it at a reasonable pace. And though I am almost certain he's received that email, he hasn't responded. Does the idea of regularly helping a broke hot college girl out in exchange for her companionship really seem so abhorrent to these men that they must disappear, flake off, and otherwise ignore us? I'm getting on my fucking soapbox now. I know there are GOOD SDs out there - I've had one. Men who don't treat you like tarts but like princesses. But the liars, the manipulators, the cheats and fetish-mongers and scammers and weirdos. They make the slog through so horrifically awful. They are, in effect, con artists.

And maybe, to some extent, so are we.

I am way too fucking cynical to think straight right now. Unless a Christmas miracle comes early don't expect to see me near this blog for a long time. It's time to put my ass in gear and get a fucking job. I am applying for/following up on SEVEN job prospects tomorrow. SEVEN. That in addition to the dozens I've applied for over these last few weeks and the 3 or 4 I'll be checking in on over the weekend.

I am sick of looking for a man to take care of me. I have a great hard-working boyfriend who doesn't deserve a lazy cheating whore of a girlfriend. He deserves a bright career gal who makes her dreams (her NON-FINANCIAL) dreams HAPPEN every day and who isn't always taking the easy way out. I want to work, go to school, get my blackbelt, volunteer as a Big Sister. What kind of Big tells her Little about a lifestyle like this, or actively encourages it? Could I look into an 8 year old's perfect little face and say "Yes, that's right, you don't need to pilot the Atlantic solo or cure cancer to have a cool life, you can just get rich men to take care of you"?

No. I will teach myself to fish and feed myself for a lifetime.

Now I have nothing against escorting or sugar dating or whatever anyone wants to do. If I were any more open-minded my brain might fall out. Escorting is a job, and as the old saying goes, a blow job is better than no job. But the bizarre hybrid escorting/sugarbabying/companioning/roleplaying/double-life-ing clusterfuck I had gotten myself into was an unholy marriage of all the worst parts of being, essentially, a sex worker.

I felt guilty for messing around on my blameless boyfriend. I felt sleazy for kissing a man for money. I felt perturbed when I realized that the balance of my lunch with Mr. Sexy was the balance of my bank account. I felt ashamed for leading him on when he texted me asking if we could explore that physical theme further. I felt fear about being alone in the same room as my potential scumbag SD who I had never met. I felt nervous about contracting an STD condoms couldn't protect me against. I feel blank apathy about my "number" going up to 8, or 9, because this type of sex had become just plain work to me. I felt desperation when I didn't know where my next tank of gas was coming from. I felt a black depression seep over me when I realized I had been unemployed for 2 months with nothing to show for it because I've been living off men's money. I would say "men's kindness" but none of that money came from a place of true kindness - it all came with the stipulation that I would give a sexual, rarely seen part of myself back. Stripping would have been less revealing. And more fiscally rewarding, probably.

I thought that having no money was what was making me act like a stressed crazy person these last few weeks - I was so wrong. It was the giving up of control. While relying on SDs, I had little or no control over my life. If I had a job, even if I was just as broke, I know I would be 10X happier, because that would be MY broke, not anybody else's broke. I would own it. I would be responsible for it. I could turn it around any time I wanted by working smarter and harder, by picking up extra shifts and going that extra mile, by showing up early and staying late, or hell just by showing up at all.

Christ, this is turning into a manifesto.

There are lots of SBs out there - the majority, I would say - who do not rely on SDs for their entire livelihood. AND I COMMEND YOU. It's a trap you don't ever want to get yourself into. That's when they become more like tricks and less like a specialty dating niche. After a while the money looks so easy and fast (good lord! I sound like one of those religious pamphlets about turning from your life of sin) but it's not, really, it just feels that way when you're suddenly holding 500 dollars in your hand. At that moment your selective memory kicks in and you only remember the easy parts to getting that 500 dollars - you block out the endless dickshot emails, the creepy guys you actually considered seeing because of their insane bank accounts, the reluctant kisses and awkward hands, the stomach-churning conversations about the nitty-gritty of the arrangement, the endless lying to family and friends and boyfriends, the whiplash-inducing Freudian realization that you are basically fucking your father, for money. All that falls away in the afterglow of "set for life" brought on by those little green men in your hand.

And so even though that may be the hardest won 500 dollars you've ever earned in your life, you will probably piss a significant chunk of it away on completely frivolous material things like that money means nothing to you. Because it's for spoiling yourself. I've been there, I've done it, and I have the closet full of Victoria's Secret to prove it.

Once again, definitely not saying this applies to all SBs. This is just how I felt sometimes and I've co-opted some other girls' comments along the way to support my conclusion. There are plenty of smart, savvy, plan-ahead girls out there who ARE socking away a healthy percentage of their allowances into low-risk Roth IRAs that will make them millionaires by the time they're in their late 40's. But there are just as many who do this hard work (and don't pretend the hunt isn't work) and then blow the reward on eye candy for themselves. Why?

So in conclusion, I'm hanging up the fuck-me boots until further notice. I am disillusioned with the "game"-like aspect of this and I have got too many good things in my life that I've let slide. My energies can definitely be better spent putting my head back on straight, getting my papers (Kat William's term for making a good paycheck at a legit job), graduating from junior college this coming year, turning 21, and heaping love and adoration on my awesome fucking boyfriend and family.

Goodbye for now sugars. May the wind be ever at your back, may the sun shine warmly on your face, may the rain fall softly on your fields. Good night, and good luck.

The money was too good. I got stupid.

Why oh why (oh why) did I let my instincts fail me?

Sugars, today I chastise myself for making the cardinal amateur sugar mistake - I believed a pot's promises.

The potential SD from my last post - yes, the one who I was so excited about, the one who seemed serious and like an answer to my prayers - emailed me today about 3:30 PM with a one-liner. I'm sorry, I can't make it to dinner tonight. That's it. Jerkface. I couldn't even tell if he was serious or just trying to provoke a domme-like wrath from me on the cheap. I thought back to our previous interaction and I'm pretty sure he did the same thing to me 6 months ago. Either way, even though I know I shouldn't give him the satisfaction, I sent him back a bitchy email about how rude it is to cancel a date with such short notice with no explanation or immediate offer to reschedule. I asked if he had one good reason for me not to write him off as a fraud and a troll.

No response. What a douche. I am seriously plotting revenge on this guy for getting my hopes up by being so serious. Perhaps I will put up his pics here for the world to see, along with our conversation from the other night (oh, that's right, I saved it) and send him the link. These blogs prove that there is a sugarbaby community out there, and if you mess with one of us, you mess with ALL of us. No other sugarbaby should be subject to the extremely rude behavior of this guy, so I am letting you all know, if you see a skinny white bald guy on sugardaddyforme who lives in Northern Virginia, that's him. His email says "John Doe" but he asks you to call him Chris. His handle is something like JD3901 - I'll double-check and post it in the next post if I decide to do a full on expose. However if he gets off on this kind of thing, that might just be more glee for him. Fuck these catch 22s. I hate fakes, frauds, and people who take advantage of other people. I hope this guy doesn't get laid for TWENTY years, much less 2.

Haha I just figured out how to type this little apple on my mac. shift + option + k = 

I am easily amused.

Sometimes sugar falls in your lap.

So today I made my budget for the month and realized I'm actually really not as broke as I thought.

But then I get an IM from a potential SD I talked to many months ago. He was looking for hardcore domming and we never connected because I told him I honestly wasn't sure if i could provide that kind of companionship. I don't want to mislead anyone - if I can't provide you what you want, I'll send you somewhere else. No point in wasting each other's time.

So today I'm on my yahoo account, selling some furniture on CL, and I get an IM from him.

Now I think most of us SBs can say that when old pots IM us, it can be exhausting. You may or may not remember him, you may or may not feel like huomoring him, you may or may not be of the feeling that he's just trolling, looking for someone to lure with promises of spas and flights and 10,000 dollar allowances while he jerks it in his mother's basement.

So when this guy starts IMing me, I act like any normal SB being contacted out of the blue - I somewhat curtly ask him to remind me who he is and why I should pay attention to him.

We get to talking and he mentions that he would really like to start an arrangement. I mentioned that in my last arrangement I received a 500 dollar gift and nice meal each time we met, as well as occasional shopping trips. He said that was not a problem, as long as it was done in a submissive way. I suggested that when we go shopping he will walk 3 steps behind me, carry my bags, and pay for everything. He said that sounded hot. Ca-ching.

Part of how I know he's serious is because he didn't want to mess around - when I suggested we get together for a meal to get to know each other, he agreed straight away. Fakes always have "busy schedules" and want to spend a million years playing games.

We arranged to go to dinner tomorrow night, and if that goes well, to spend the evening together in a full-on dominant fantasy with orgasm denial. How crazy is my life right now?

Since we were talking a lot about bdsm, I decided to see how serious he was about serving me. I told him I expect him to bring a gift (in addition to money) for me. He asked what I would like, and I told him a bottle of Burberry Brit perfume. Though I know he'll be busy with work, he told me he wouldn't mind taking the time out of his day to pick up a bottle for me. He told me he was very into the idea of submitting to me. He told me he hasn't had sex in 2 years so he would appreciate it if I take the lead.

So that's my day tomorrow. Hopefully by midnight tomorrow I will have 600 dollars (100 from selling my tables on (CL), a bottle of my most coveted perfume, and a new sugardaddy who I can boss around and take advantage of any way I feel like, and who will submissively take me shopping. Ipod touch and Tiffany's bracelet, ahoy!

I'm way more ok with this than I thought I would be - perhaps because I know I'll be the one in control of everything. I thought it would feel like I was cheating on my boyfriend, but because there's no emotional attachment, it feels more like the most awesome job in the world. I'm getting compensated like a lawyer for going to dinner and then making a man beg for release. What the hell could possibly be better?

This is not how I thought the sugar game was supposed to work. I thought you were supposed to go out and hunt for a good SD, not have one fall into your lap at random. Bizarre. I'm already counting my chickens, making lists of the possible things I could spend the money on. If this goes well I might be taking in 2 to 3 K a month plus another K of shopping. Time to start investing instead of just blowing all my cash. I want a few pretty dresses and some heels, and a digital camera, and new tires for my car, but that's it.

Oh yeah. And some Uggs. Haha.

This is why hookers don't kiss on the lips.

So this past week I was feeling very desperate for cash - I've been unemployed for about 2 months now and it's tough finding work. Although to be honest, I haven't really been trying. I'm enjoying my hedonistic lifestyle too much to work to support/continue it, ironically. Add to this spending 20 to 40 bucks a week for gas to see my boyfriend (who I want to marry! by the way) and it has made for a very stressful fucking month.

So, I text Mr. Nice (who is officially moving to FL for business if you recall) asking for help. No response. Not shocking, but seriously, he got the name "Mr. Nice" for a reason.

I email Mr. Sincere, asking if he'll help me again, as he has in the past. No response.

I email Mr. Sexy, asking him to help me. Bingo! He asks how much I need. I tell him 200 would be ideal but anything he can give me, even 50, will help immensely. He says he feels comfortable giving me (a person he has never met before) 100 + gas money, if I will drive out to DC to meet him. My mama didn't raise no fool, and I immediately agree.

He suggests a sushi place in Chinatown that has really excellent reviews. I arrive about 20 minutes late (I refuse to pay for parking in DC, so I walked/jogged all the way from the Jefferson Memorial free parking lot to Chinatown). The sprinting actually calmed me down significantly - my body was all loosened up from the sudden blood-flow and I didn't really have a chance to wait and get nervous (another sugar mentioned getting "nervous tummy" before sugar dates - I know exactly what you mean!). I got lost looking for it but he kept texting me directions until I found it.

I walk in and it's even nicer than I expected. I'm wearing a turqoise blue striped camisole with a turquoise bra that peeks above it a bit, dark jeans, silver gladiators, and my pleather Target jacket. I feel undressed. He's there in the waiting area, and he's not what I expected. He both does and does not look like his picture. He's quite a bit skinnier than I expected, and his hair is tied back in an 18th century style low ponytail that's quaint and sexy. We embrace and then we follow the waiter upstairs to be seated.

The waiter pulls out the chair for me, but as he passes it he touches it with one hand, and I can tell that he would have wanted to pull it out himself. We chat a bit and it's immediately easy and friendly between us. We peruse the menu and I mention that the seafood potstickers look good but never formally order them. He notices this and orders them for us to share. A consummate gentleman, noting the things I've hinted at. Wonder if the same trick would work in the Tiffany's store?

I get the steak and he gets some kind of sushi roll. We share the potstickers as well as a duck appetizer that came with my favorite Hoisin sauce.

We talk about all kinds of things. Travel, mostly, as we've both been to foreign countries this year. The different attitudes and ways of life in other countries. Our origins, where we were born, what we do for a living, etc. Standard issue gentleman all the way - complimenting me, and not ever talking down to me. I could tell he thought I was smart, and I didn't obfuscate anything about my intelligence - I made fun of myself for licking my chopsticks, calling myself gauche and noting that in Asian cultures it's considered rude. How many 20 year olds use the word "gauche" in their everyday vocabulary?

The meal ends and I am stuffed. All these tiny dishes really add up. He picks up the check. We walk down to the front of the restaurant and out onto the street, where hundreds of people are milling past in either direction. We stand there with my tourist-y map open (I've been to DC many dozens of times, but I still get spatially disoriented when I'm not within site of the Washington Memorial) and he tells me which direction to take to get back to my car (which I need to do on the double - it's a 30 minute walk and the police are crazy strict about the 3 hour time limit). He asks how much it cost me in gas to get here and I say about 25 dollars. He takes an extra 20 from his wallet and puts it in an envelope that already has 100 dollars in it and hands it to me. I thank him sincerely, then we embrace and I kiss his cheek. Mutually, we turn heads and kiss on the mouth, slowly and softly. After a moment he reaches around to try to touch my butt (seriously dude?) and he gives me a little tongue. A little too wet and soft a kiss, actually, but not unpleasant by any means. I had decided in advance that I was cool with kissing him as a thank you for the help he is giving me, so when he went for it, I let him.

I walked away with a smile and walked straight over to the nearest branch of my bank and deposited 110 of it and kept 10 in cash in my wallet for emergencies/mad money/etc.

I texted him thanks and said sorry my breath probably smelled like green onions from my steak, he texted back saying he ate the same food (yep, we ate off each other's plates) and that "the kiss was hot, btw. didn't think you'd be into anything physical. glad to see i was wrong!" and that he really hopes we can "explore that further". I did not respond.

Ladies and gentleman, hook line and sinker, this guy wants to fuck my brains out. So, a matter of economics. How do I extract the most money from him with the least possible unpleasantness?

His income isn't crazy high - in the 150K to 200K range - but it's still enough for me to consider a 1K a month allowance reasonable.

The man paid 120 dollars for a kiss, after all.

Though as I thought about it driving home, I realized that's not the most I've ever received for a date that ended with simply a kiss. Mr. Nice gave me 200 dollars on one of our first encounters for a brief peck on the lips.

Ugh. I love my boyfriend. I am serious when I say I want to marry him. I thought that a kiss would be less repugnant to me than any other physical activity, less guilt-inducing, but I was wrong. I felt gross on the way back from the city, like I had done a bad thing. I needed the money. Does that make it any more or less right? What if I steal a loaf of bread to feed my starving family? What if I let Mr. Sexy do anal, but not vaginal? That's how some porn stars do it, saving certain orifices for their lovers. What if we make out but I never let him touch me below the waist. What if I give him head but don't let him come in my mouth. What if, what if.

The worst part is, Mr. Sexy actually is sexy. He's my type. He's a smart, kind, funny, laid-back, good-looking dude who I clicked with immediately both online and in person. If I weren't so head-over-heels in love with my current BF, if I were single, I would date the hell out him. Not even sugar dating, just regular dating. He's only 33 - only 13 years older than me. 10 years younger than my last SD.

I'm not sure he knows he's on what basically amounts to a sugardaddy site though. His profile text under "what i'm looking for" says:

What I'm NOT looking for is to be your 'one and only'. I don't think life works that way and I don't want you to try to prove me wrong either.

Looking for someone interested in some fun. I'm not hurting financially and I'm more then happy to spread some of it around, as long we both stay on the same page. :)

So I guess I need to email him, thank him again for a lovely time, and ask him exactly what it is he's looking for. I want to play this one carefully though, because he's very big on honesty and sincerity, so if he feels like he's being handled at any time all bets are off.

Haha maybe in that case, the best bet would, NOT to handle him?

I am confused. I am broke. I want to spoil my boyfriend. I need a job. I like Mr. Sexy. Brain on fire. Good night.

Post script - boyfriend acted as a sugardaddy this week. We had been to the mall last weekend and I had tried on this dress at forever 21. It looked phenomenal on me, but I was too broke to afford it (how sad is that? too broke for a 22 dollar dress?). This weekend I show up and he's got it, in my size (small) and color (black), waiting for me. My first official LBD. I know he had to call in favors to get it (he's broke and doesn't have a car) and that made it all the sweeter. I think I'm going to have my shopping slave buy the royal blue version for me as well. It fits like a glove and the cut is beyond perfect for my body. Now I need matching heels for when I wear it to see Mr. Sexy. I am going to hell.

Thanks Chicago!

Thanks for the awesome shout-outs on your blog. I sincerely appreciate it.

As far as Facebook...I am a huge facebook addict but when it comes to making one with no personal information I feel a little bit inept. Anybody have tips on making it fairly untraceable?

A few updates on the various plates I've got spinning right now...

1) Mr. Nice hasn't texted or called. What's his deal? He texts me, asking about my life, then doesn't respond when I try to set something up? I know he's busy, but come on, it's not hard to spend 30 seconds texting/calling someone. I see rude people doing it all the time.

2) Mr. Sexy sent another email after I didn't respond to his last one. He asked if everything was ok and if it was "time for that spanking" hahaha. I responded with a little banter and then "I've really enjoyed corresponding with you but I need my daddy to take care of me. I want to go out to a concert next weekend but after buying books and paying tuition I have no money for tickets, gas, etc :( I've got my paypal account set up so I was wondering, would you could you maybe help me a little?" He loves the helpless little girl act. So we'll see if he's down for paying for this set-up or if he's just some fake loser.

3) Vlad disappeared off the face of the earth. I sent him a reminder email, and it pinged back to me as undeliverable. Douche.

4) I am close to having an awesome job as a hostess at an upscale French/Italian restaurant! I would make some serious bank at that job, but I would have to work a lot of nights and weekends. Sadface. All the fun jobs take place during the crappiest hours, all the jobs with good hours are stab-myself-in-the-face boring. Is there a happy medium? A fun job with good hours?

5) Haven't been able to connect with Mr. Slave yet. Hopefully I can have him pay my phone bill, then buy me some cute stuff from Wet Seal (how much am I loving that site right now? I used to think Wet Seal sucked but lately they've had some super cute stuff.)

6) 100 bucks basically fell out of the sky this week. I got a refund check from the trip I went on this spring - fuel prices went down in between paying for the trip and going on the trip, so I got 111.00 back. How awesome is that?

7) The bf is my substitute SD for right now. When I'm sleeping over at his dorm he buys all my meals, pays for my movie tickets, surprises me with little gifts and breakfast in bed, and yesterday he gave me 10 bucks for gas. And the sex is the best I've ever had. Awesome-ness.

So that's the upshot of this week. Still need money, just not as desperately as I did before.

Draw from all sides.

Quick update on the feelers I'm putting out right now (I need some monies babes):

1) Texted Mr. Nice this afternoon, then called him this evening after receiving no answer. He sounded busy but he still had the presence of mind to ask me how my trip was. He told me he had in fact been getting my texts but that he had not had a chance to text me back (wtf? YOU texted ME first). He told me this week was probably not good for him. He told me he might have to move to Florida (for work) for 9 months. Since he sounded like he was in the middle of something I told him he could check his schedule and get back to me. He told me he definitely would. So I'm going to say there's a 75% chance that we'll see each other at least once before he leaves. He's a busy man but he's always made time for me in the past and he was always good for some spoiling and gifts. I'm really pissed he's leaving the state though, I was hoping to get a little more out of our relationship than one last one-time meeting. Who knows - maybe he'll fly me down to the beach?

2) Mr. Sexy sent an email this morning explaining that he'd had some family drama this weekend and asking me if I had gotten my paypal account up and working. I sent him back a long sexy email with pics of me in a swimsuit that he had requested and let him know that he could send money to that same email. He sent one back soon after but no mention of money and no email from paypal saying I have new money in my account. We never set up any kind of deal with allowance or anything - I like the "gift me when you like" thing, and he knows he's supposed to spoil me, but he's taking advantage of it and being a bad daddy. I can tell I've hooked him with this Lolita fantasy by the way he types back, so I'm not worried about losing him. No more pics or long descriptions for him until he comes through with some spending money. That's how this game works.

3) Vlad has disappeared. I sent the last email, he never got back to me. I'm going to send him a follow-up email tonight with a playful "I'm supposed to be the naughty one ;)" theme to it and see if he has any excuses for disappearing. Maybe I can parlay that into some spoiling "to make it up to me."

4) An old SD of mine who I have never met (we'd been writing emails back and forth) but who months ago gave me 750 dollars via paypal. I can't remember if I named him on this blog so I'm going to name him now - Mr. Weird. He's so freaking SINCERE about everything. I recommended him a book the last time we talked and he actually went out and read it!! How insane is that? I'm getting back in contact with him this week - hopefully he'll be down for helping me with some bills, if I ask nicely. I know he has a soft spot for me.

5) Mr. Slave. I don't know if I've talked about it here but I've been a financial dominatrix in the past - and yes, it's exactly what it sounds like. Mr. Slave is a loyal sub of mine who has bought me many things - including the American Apparel t-shirt dress I'm wearing right at this moment, in fact. He's bought me clothes, jewelry, and paid for past of my trip to Asia. I recently got back in touch with him after being out of touch with him for about 4 months, and he's still eager to serve me.

6) Mr. 50 - I keep seeing an ad on CL for a guy who will pay a girl 50 bucks to watch him masturbate. This is something I actually weirdly enjoy doing (it's so fascinating to watch someone do something so private) and it's located right near my boyfriend's college, so it would be really convenient to go do that. He posts weekly, so I think he's legit and looking for someone to do this regularly. I might also sell some panties on CL, if I can get that to work out.

7) Hooray for me, I actually applied to some respectable jobs today! And tomorrow is going to be very intense - I'm going to interview at a slightly upscale French/Italian/American restaurant that's opening soon and looking for servers, hostesses, etc. I really miss the food service industry - the hours can suck, and your bosses can be truly bizarre, but working in a restaurant was the most fun job I have ever had, and if it's a nicer place, you can walk out with serious cash money in your hand THAT NIGHT. Kind of like being a stripper but without the full body waxing.

Although, stripping is something else I've looked into. I'd love to try it, even if it's just one time. And who knows? I have an amazing body (and I'm humble, too) and I bet I could put myself through grad school with it. As long as you don't start turning tricks or taking hard drugs, stripping is a decent job.

So yeah. I need some money (honestly 200 bucks would cover it) and I need it within about the next 10 days to pay that ticket and my cell phone bill. I'm not putting all of my eggs in any one basket this time.

Also.

I love love love the following media, and these all apply to the SB lifestyle so I'm going to include them here:

1) ShopStyle. A brilliant clothing aggregating site. Want a bandage dress but don't know exactly which one yet? Just type it in the search bar and it will return thousands of easily scrollable thumbnail pics of different dresses which you can then sort by color, price, brand, etc. Awesome, awesome, awesome. Especially if you're like me and you have certain "tastes" - like hobo bags and brightly colored boots.

2) The Savage Love Podcast. Totally fearless sex-positive sex advice from a hilarious and hyper-articulate gay man about every single sexual question under the sun. I am beyond addicted.

That's all for now! Be back later on to report any new sugar happenings.

All talk, no action.

Mr. Sexy didn't come through with any money for the weekend - not surprising, but disappointing. We'll see if he sends any contact this week. Til then both he and Vlad are on the outs with me for not responding to my emails withing a reasonable amount of time.

So, this week I need to get in contact with Mr. Nice. I have a feeling he's not getting my texts so tomorrow I'm going to call him and see if he wants to go to dinner sometime this week. I need the cash to pay my parking ticket and my phone bill, and I'm dying for a nice (and by that I mean, upscale) meal after a weekend of dorm food with the boyfriend.

I've realized, I am good enough at compartmentalizing things to not be bothered by the idea of having sex with another man. This isn't about love or lust, it's just friendly affection between 2 people who have ways of helping each other out.

So that's my goal for the week. Wish me luck, babes.

Mr. Sexy offered me money...

...with no strings attached. How crazy is that? In my email to him I mentioned that I'd like to go see Zombieland if I could afford it, and he emailed back asking if I have a paypal account where he could deposit some spending money for the weekend.

I emailed him back but I'm waiting to see if he actually comes through with sending money before I get too excited.

My decision about seeing Mr. Nice has been made for me - I got a 50 dollar parking ticket on Thursday. And seeing as that's about half of my net worth right now, it looks like I'll be hitting Mr. Nice up for some nice cash soon. I'm going to see if I can get him to take me shopping as a kind of penance for not being around to spoil me these past few months. I REALLY want that ipod touch. Let's see if I can get it in the next week. Going to test my sugary wiles...

When it rains...

How crazy is this, I'm working on my 2 potentials, right? And then today, out of nowhere, after 4 months of not seeing each other or talking, I get a text from my old sugardaddy, Mr. Nice! Asking how I am and how my trip was. Which as we all know is SD talk for "I'm lonely and I'd like to fuck you again please."

I don't really know what to do here. I am having an awesome no-lies-necessary life with my boyfriend, and my potentials are just that, potentials. And having been out of a job the last month, I'm flat broke. That guaranteed 500 dollars from seeing Mr. Nice looks pretty damn good, but I won't feel good about getting it. Unless I can pull out the lawyer thing and do it in a moral vacuum.

So I'm making this into an informal poll among my readera. Do I fuck Mr. Nice so I can eat for another month, or do I live in honest poverty with my lovely boyfriend? Choices, choices.