Give Us A Go

Hello there, how can I fulfil your fantasy today?

Oh crikey dot com! Amazingly I got a call back from Adult Fantasy House this morning (before ten! I don’t know, that impressed me). I was totally surprised and in the middle of a car race on my mum’s Nintendo DS. It was all a bit crazy. I was shocked and sounded a bit hesitant but then I mentioned having done it for fun with men from chat. She said all our men are lovely and regulars. I was trying to work out how it all worked, especially as they patch you through on your landline, and she explained you do shifts, how much you’d be aiming to earn when you start out and that I’ll need a bloody ABN.

(That’s come up a lot lately in my job search. The first time I’d have to get one if I wanted to be a contract cleaner. There was no way I wanted to make that sort of commitment to cleaning! And it also came up for a job as a freelance writer for an online newsletter called WeekendNotes. You subscribe and they send things to do in your city. From what I’ve read I feel my writing is up to scratch but I don’t feel creative enough to write regularly to earn any money. Plus I’m in Melbourne and I’ve never found that much to do here. However, I am tempted to submit something just to see what they say. I would like get some feedback on my writing).

Anyway once I got an idea of how it worked it did sound doable. She suggested doing a trail shift next week. I was going to nominate Wednesday but I think I have a doctor’s appointment then and I hesitated again saying I need to check my diary and she said call the boss back if you’re interested and I was just about to ask for the number when she hung up on me. I hope I haven’t fucked up. I’ll just email them again and nominate Thursday morning. I need a bit of time to think up some dirty banter. It should also give me a bit of time to think and discuss getting an ABN.

The most exciting news from that call is that they do have work available and I really don’t want to miss out. Oh blimey sometimes I know I’m my worse enemy. Still I am a little bit excited now.

Should I Take That As A Compliment?

I had a job interview on Saturday morning for a fast food chicken bugger joint. They’re opening a new store in Highpoint. So basically it’s starting out from scratch. I was asked what I prefer to do, work out the front or out the back doing food prep. I said I love cooking so I wouldn’t mind working out the back. I think that was good that I like cooking but then he said, “We like to put the pretty ones out the front.” Now I already know that girls tend to be put out the front of fast food places. When he said it though I was like, “Oh?” I think that OH may have even been expressed on my face at the time. A nice addition the pink I could feel on my nervous, flushed cheeks. Was that a compliment? Was he flirting with me? (Fucked if I know!) Although a good looking (young) man, I had already noticed his thick and prominent wedding ring. I was thinking, “Well what does that mean?!” And, “Surely that’s up to you/the customer (if I’m pretty or not).” It feels like it, but I just don’t know. I asked the Old Man about it and he thinks he probably was flirting. Okay that’s nice – as I said he was good looking so if it was an option I would go there. However what I really liked is he made me feel smart. Well smart enough to cope with that job at least. When he asked if I had worked in the industry before I said no but he didn’t think that was a problem. There’s going to be training and he said I could handle it. (Was that all he wanted me to handle? ENOUGH! God Amy get out a bit more would ya!) There are a lot of applicants so if I don’t hear by Friday then I didn’t get it. As far as interviews go it felt all right. But what the hell does that mean?

I went to the dentist today for the first time in over ten years. My mum had been recently so I was prepared for a long and expensive visit. She also told me not to get upset if they lectured me for not having a check-up in years. I got there early and once the receptionist was off the phone I was being lead into the surgery. I was shocked. Did you know you can now watch TV while you’re being scrapped and drilled? The sunglasses where interesting too. Not that I ever remembered being blinded by the overhead light before, OH&S at work here? If that’s the case I don’t think the TV was a very good idea. I could see the nurse glancing at it regularly. So, after all that I doubt I was in there for more than ten minutes. The doctor didn’t tell me off and I paid $45 less than my mother had to and I was expecting to. She was home when I got back and I told her. She was mightily pissed off about the money and rang them. It turns out my teeth didn’t need much cleaning and where healthy. It would have been nice of the dentist to tell me that at the time. At the end all he said was, “They seem good.” I was told to rinse and that was it. I was like huh? So once again I wondered, was that a compliment? I know for sure now because they explained the fee discrepancy to my mum.

One last thing, about two weeks ago there was an ad in the local paper for looking for ladies to join an adult call centre. I applied eagerly and perhaps a little naively. In all honesty I think it is work I could do and it’s been suggested to me by men on chat who I’ve ended up talking to on the phone. Some strangers and some I’ve gotten to know. Anyway, I may not be the best at talking dirty but there’s something about my voice that they love. I never did hear back from them. You could either email or phone but I only emailed. Seems a bit redundant but I don’t like calling people. I didn’t want to give up so I found another place to apply. They didn’t have any specific vacancies but you can leave a message and your landline saying you’re interested. So that’s what I did today:

Hello!

I have thought about doing this work before but I never knew how to go about getting it. (I tried applying to a newspaper advert a couple of weeks ago but they haven't got back to me).

As far as experience goes I've done this before as a bit of fun after chatting with men online. I have a nice, I'm told sexy, speaking voice. Some have suggested I do it professionally,(but I'm not sure if they were just teasing). I wouldn't mind finding out though. ;-)

About half of that came from my original email. See what I mean about it being a bit gushy/girly and naive? I’m curious to find out how it works. I remember seeing one of the characters, a stay at home mum, in Short Cuts doing it and other bits of telly and film. It all made it seem like something I could do.

I may not think I’m pretty – not Adult Fantasy House pretty – but I do think I have a nice and maybe even sexy voice. It’s one of the few compliments I can take.

Getting Wiggy With It

It was my sister's Michael Jackson themed birthday party on the weekend. I had a good time though I was a bit worried about the wig either not sitting right or lasting the night. I still don't think it sat right or looked like it did on the cover but people seemed to get it. I showed this guy on chat a photo of it and he said, "You're hair looks different." LOL! Of course it does it's a wig! It was an extreme close up so I don't blame him really. He loved the red dress. A lot of people did. Not enough single straight men at the party but I still got a few compliments.

I remember a stunned look on my mum's best friend's face. (Pity I didn't get to talk to her that night). And her partner told me red was my colour. He should know he teaches design at RMIT. (Not the site I once cleaned at. No I did the boring accounting floor and other business stuff).

Not everyone dressed up but people did come up with some amazing efforts (as you can see below). Very gratifying for my sister. My mum "stole" the green walk sign. Her excuse is she is the mother of the birthday girl! But the guy as the Moon "stole" my sister's glittery jacket so it all works out.


I think I have the anti-climax/Monday blues. Today is the first day I could have gone back to work on the script but I just feel lonely and bored and rather shitty about having to go back to work this Monday.

I can't help feeling like no one gives a shit about me. I'm thinking family, especially after the party, and then reading Facebook comments. Makes me thinking running off with Terry might not be so bad. Start my own family with him and forget about them.

I think I just don't feel important enough within my family. I know I'm projecting my own sense of worthlessness of being a cleaner and still at home. No relationship etc., etc...!

Of course it was Molly's night too and I'm happy she did have a great time after getting anxious over so many things in the lead up to the night. But I didn't seem to connect among the cousins as I saw them do. I had a group of friends at the party so I wasn't shy or lonely as I can get at some parties, however I still had these moments of feeling like the odd one out. The Outsider. I'm still "hot" though. Groan. Oh my God!

In These Shoes?

I said "In these shoes? I doubt you'd survive." I said "Honey, let's do it. Let's stay right here."

Do you like them?

I’m not normally the kind of woman who gets excited by a new pair of shoes but these babies – hideous kinky, aren’t they? – got me through work last night. (I’ve been beating myself up before work for not getting on with my scriptwriting). You see they’re a bit extravagant, they’re not everyday shoes by far, so of course I have to justify buying them. (Annoyingly they were surrounded by shoes on sale but there was no red sticker, $10 off, these ones). Well they go well with a new red dress I bought. This dress I plan to wear at my sister’s birthday party next month. It’s fancy dress and I intend to go as Diana Ross, the Supremes Diana. I really feel like being glamorous and girlie at the moment. Just need to feel sexy? I don’t know. A distraction? I was smiling a lot to myself at work thinking how great I’ll look at this party. Singing Supreme songs as I worked, not always softly or in my head.

I was originally going to my sister’s party as the cute Michael Jackson of Jackson Five days. It’s easy to put together a mismatching 70s outfit. In fact last weekend we found a top I could wear at a vintage/recycled clothing store. I bought the top but I was really disappointed to give up on the Diana idea. I told myself this would be cheaper and I couldn’t get the perfect Diana wig I found online because they don’t ship outside of America. Well fuck it! There are ways around that. Being cute is fine but I really want to be sexy. LOL. An ego boost. I’ve been mistaken for a boy and man numerous times, and the last time wasn’t that long ago, so being ultra girlie appeals. Man I feel like a woman. Mind you only in the safe context and fantasy of a dress-up party at my auntie’s house. Not out on the town, God no! (Sorry, Terry I know you want to take me out in that dress. Although, now I have the shoes...maybe). Actually, this red dress was "justified" as something I could wear at an awards ceremony when Go Girl! makes good. "And best script for a children's television show goes to...." (It was also on sale).

I need a distraction. I started reading my script on the tram, the highlighted David version, and I couldn’t get past the first page. The corrections, although made with the best of intentions - (lessons rather than scolding) - and the way I was already feeling about the script, I found it devastating. My ego being kicked one too many times. I’m hoping, it being a new day, I won’t take the criticism so personally once I get back to re-reading my work. I know I have to remind myself this is a style of writing I’m not used to. And if it turns out I’m not good at it that doesn’t mean I’m a bad writer. I can’t stand this false optimism!

David said he’d be busy again in February whether or not that means he’ll have no time to help me I don’t know for sure. I’m letting January get away from me. Shit! I need to get down to some serious work on my script; or just let it go. Sad to say those shoes made me feel better after that tram ride into work. A new job would leave me ecstatic.

January 21 2010

P.S. I meant to add another justification for buying the wig. It's linked to the stuff above, about being mistaken for a man. With that wig - that's on it's way, woo hoo! - I could also pass for a drag queen. I already have my name: Glamour Ross. Perfect, no?

Sexy Old Man

You know one old man I really fancy? John Mahoney.

He was still pretty good looking in the early days of Frasier. He started to look like an old man near the end of the show. I found him very sexy and so much nicer than Frasier and Niles in terms of character (well okay looks too!)

Working it out he would have been 56 when the show first went to air and almost 66 when it ended. Sexy as he damn well is! I couldn't be seen in public with him. It never looks right. “Uncles” and sugar daddies; I don’t know who comes across worse? The old man or the young woman? Of course it’s all personal. As a feminist - and I feel I am one - do I then have to ask myself how I feel about the situation when the genders are reversed? That is, when it’s an older woman, a so-called cougar, with her toy boy? I don’t think I care! I mean this torment is all about me! How do I feel being seen with Terry or any man significantly older then me? Seen as a couple that is. I mean we talked about playing father and daughter in public but I don’t want that. I’ve waited 29 years for someone who wants me for more than sex. I’m not going to pretend I’m not dating them. Why should I? But then I can’t deal with the age difference and the image we’d cast.

What is wrong with me? Why is it that only men of a certain age take notice of me? At first it seemed to be a combination of married and older men. When they are married I reason they were just desperate for anyone to fuck, even me! It hasn't always been that personal or that intense; that is I'm not going to be the love of their life. I'm just the "relief" on the side. I still feel bad for their wives but I also reckon, "If not me then someone else." And it usually is me and a few someone elses. In some ways I’m just too easy to bed. Am I such a freak that it takes a mature taste to see anything worthwhile in me? It’s not bloody fair.

I want to be part of a couple. Run my fingers on the back of his neck – yes his. Being with a woman publically would freak me out as much as being with a man that's too old for me. I’m not a lesbian, bi-curious – bye bitch! – at times, but even then the “experimental” urge hasn’t been that strong, or even seriously there for a long time. Anyway, I’m running my fingers through his hair as we’re waiting for something. Time goes on and I rest my head on his shoulder and he takes my other hand and gives it a squeeze. A tired and content look on his face then a smile and a look in his eyes that says he can’t wait to get back into bed for an encore of last night. I grin back and blush – I can’t help it! Besides, I can’t wait either.

I enjoy Terry’s attention. (Well I'm sure I’ve already said that. I've never been so loved). I can talk to him openly. I have shared most of my deepest, darkest burdens. I’m still worried in some ways about the issues I've raised, but it has been good to talk to someone about them. Like taking a deep breath after holding it for too long. He is my best friend. However the age difference and gender difference can make it awkward. (Perhaps that’s just in my head). But I’m repeating myself (as I’m prone to).

I enjoy the attention from Ash and Garry too but they’re married and it’s not as constant as Terry’s. Sometimes I feel sorry for him. I mean if I’m the highlight of your day – or life by the sounds of it – then I’d want my money back from God, or whoever. [I’m not really happy with how that came out. If anything Terry that’s meant to be a put down of me not you; I never want to hurt you! Although that’s all I can see happening in the end. Crap! Shit! Fuck!] Looking at it another way it’s quite a thing to say about someone. Perhaps I’m just not romantic enough. Being suspicious of romance deep down.

It’s easier when they’re married. Strange to say since I obviously don’t relish being a bit on the side. Sometimes I wish I was a courtesan. A companion and a lover, smart, talented and spending my time with rich men. Oh yes! I think I’d have to be better at sex first! I’m easily used; do I have to enjoy it if I’m a courtesan? A hole, a mouth, I’d rather not be an arsehole, hands, tits; the whole package.*

*Package may or may not include anal. Please consult your service provider or increase your chances and stop off at an off-licence first.

As a sex act anal does not appeal to me. I have done it, not entirely convinced or willingly, it hurt and didn’t turn me on at all. Having, “It feels delicious,” in my ear in a pleading tone doesn’t help either. Don’t think I did it with him. He did not break on through to the other side. I’d had my anal experience by then, not again. You can go down on me if you want though. (Of course I didn’t say that).

I wish I could accept my body, (hair and face included), it would make life and sex so much easier.