The Problem with Performer Model Releases

UPDATE: I was sent this announcement in an email and just found this at AINews.com:

[Source: VickyAtHome.com
by: Company Press Release]

Industry people laugh at the word “union”, but model releases are just one example of how performers get taken advantage of in porn.

I posted an interview with Holly Hollywood today where we talk about unions (link here), and it’s always the same.

Yes, there should be a union, but the turnover rate for performers is too high to warrant one because no one would join.

I’ve spoken about it with Holly, Nina Hartey, Jane Hamilton, Sunny Leone, Ron Jeremy and a slew of other people. Then this came from performer Sara Jay today about her legal issues with Brazzers creating an ‘official’ blog using her name and trying to use a standard model release as legal grounds for doing it:

Popular adult Superstar Sara Jay (www.sarajay.com & www.twitter.com/sarajayxxx) is happy to announce that she & Brazzers have mutually agreed to resolve a hard fought lawsuit filed by Jay over a website called “SaraJayBlog.com”.

The popular star sued Brazzers claiming it had set up the Blog through an Affiliate with the express purpose of impersonating her and stealing traffic. Brazzers disputed Sara Jay’s claims, asserting, among other things that it was not responsible for the actions of an affiliate that was sending it traffic.

Jay asserted that Brazzers was engaging in an industry wide practice of setting up similar blogs to ‘impersonate’ girls in the business to get traffic & sales.

After the case was filed, the Blog was taken down. Brazzers tried to have the entire case thrown out by the trial court claiming Jay’s claims were barred by an arbitration agreement in a modeling release Jay had signed which Brazzers said also gave it the right to ‘promote’ images it owned in whatever manner it saw fit.

After losing those arguments at the trial court level, Brazzers took an appeal up to the Court of Appeal which it lost resulting in an award of costs in Jay’s favor.

The case was ordered into mediation where the parties agreed to resolve the case with Brazzers agreeing Jay had the right to try and get the domain back for herself.

Sara Jay says: “I sued because there was a Blog out there purporting to be my ‘official’ blog which sent all the traffic – and sales – to Brazzers.

Needless to say, I take any attempt to use my name to make money of my name very seriously. We won at the Trial Court & Court of Appeal levels. However, with the blog now gone & Brazzers agreeing it would not stand in the way me getting back the url, settling made sense.

“We were both incurring massive amounts of time, legal expenses & costs – time I could be spending shooting or on my career. I’d rather be on set having sex for my fans than in a court room. It was a bitter battle with Brazzers & but it was better for both sides to resolve it.”

Of legal interest in the case was Brazzers’ claim that it had given an oral agreement for one Brazzers entity to use the model release rights to all other Brazzers entities.

The Court of Appeal found that an oral agreement pertaining to matters that are the subject of copyright (such as photographs) is invalid unless in writing. The court found that taking out the domain name “SaraJayBlog.Com” was not permitted by the Brazzers contract that Ms. Jay had signed.

It held that Ms. Jay’s “suit does not involve the subject matter of the [Brazzers’ entity] contract”. Whether this judicial ruling will cause Brazzers to change its policy of promoting its websites using domain names of the actresses with whom it has signed releases remains to be seen.

Sara Jay notes: “It’s amazing what companies are trying to do based on purported ‘modeling releases’. All I can say is… be careful what you sign.”

Sara Jay can be reached for comment at:
Sara@Sarajay.com
http://twitter.com/sarajayxxx

It’s not just residual money performers give up by signing a standard model release in the adult industry. I was on a set where Aurora Snow insisted on amending her model release before shooting pictures for the day. The reason being that the way these one-to-two page releases grant any and all rights to the producers “in perpetuity and throughout the universe.” So, basically, when you see an add for phone sex on the back of a XXX magazine and it’s your head on someone else’s body, don’t be surprised. You signed away your rights so the company could sell your picture to whomever they choose, who in turn can do whatever they choose with the photo.

And this is why some don’t think pornographers deserve too many tears cried in their favor when larger organizations come in and start regulating and telling them what they are going to do. Maybe a union is too unstable for such a changing industry, but some kind of organization just for performers–education in health, legal issues, money management, etc–is not an unreasonable idea.

Julie Meadows SUCKS!, by Julie Meadows

I originally wrote this at AINews.com on March 14, 2006. It is being added to other articles under the category ‘Archive Posts’.

Howard Stern got a lot of flack when he started out. Too rude, too crass. Potty mouth and so on. Adam Sandler was torn apart by critics with “Billy Madison”. These people have their own sense of fun and style and people love them now. I’m not sure I can remember any females in history that started off a little rotten and got better with time, but I do know that esteemed literary types are not finding my brand of humor to be very funny. And I don’t understand why.

Chicks are prone towards being respected or just sex-symbolized, sometimes both. I am not a college graduate. I am a loser in life and I have found a humble way of owning it by using self-depreciating humor in conversation and storytelling. I don’t have to throw around any woeful stories. Life is life and you either feel sorry for yourself or you roll with it.

Oxford’s Dictionary of Current English defines the word “loser” as “1 – person or thing that loses, esp. A contest (is a bad loser). 2 – colloq. person who usually fails.”

I am a loser. Tattoo a big fat ‘L’ on my forehead. I failed at everything. Do you know that I tried out for cheerleading in seventh grade, picked the one cheer I didn’t know out of a hat and went out onto the auditorium stage and made up a cheer that was obviously not the original cheer? I half-assed threw my limbs around in what I thought would look like a very physically articulate and precise gestation, half-assed yelled the stupid cheer that I could barely remember and stopped halfway through my makeshift routine to stare blankly at the sea of faces, and then dramatically, emphatically, sighed. It was the sigh to beat all sighs. It said so much more than anything that could come out of my mouth in the form of words. It bore the weight of a lifetime (I was only thirteen, but bear with me) of being uncomfortable, awkward and out of place. It carried sorrow across that room, frustration, and most of all, embarrassment. It told my life’s story and it was all of the effort going right out of me in front of the entire school of junior high students. And they laughed. I’ve never heard a room fill up with laughter in such an explosive way. It was breathtaking, and as soon as it happened, I was on the floor holding my belly, in stitches! It was the funniest goddamn thing that had ever happened to me. Hilarious. And the moment I started laughing so hard I couldn’t stand up, they started laughing harder. A cacophony of cheerful energy. I have never felt so intoxicated by attention. All that tension building up in me, and then turning into the most raw and honest kind of release was like heaven. I felt so relieved. I made those people laugh with my pain. No one remembered who made the goddamn cheerleading squad (it certainly wasn’t me!), but everyone remembered that moment. It was the only thing anyone talked about, and I was a star for that day.

Now I am trying to put those experiences down on paper, but I get silence instead of the laughter I so want to perpetuate. Do I suck as a writer? My friends think my shit is hysterical, but are they being nice? I don’t think so. My husband is the most honest person I know and is quick to tell me when I’m being a freak, an ass or just stupid. He loves my stories, too. Whatever is going on, I imagine being a female porn star is a lot like being a child actor in regards to how the industry and public treats them. Just a few common parallels…

Child actors are what? They’re cute and good with dialogue. They are pushed into the limelight by their parents (who are usually just frustrated actors themselves), and their cuteness is all used up until they aren’t cute anymore and the work is gone.

Porn star’s are what? They’re sexy and open with their bodies. They are pushed into the limelight by their partners (who are usually just frustrated lovers themselves), and their sexiness is all used up until they aren’t sexy anymore and the work is gone.

Both have problems finding work afterwards (unless the porn star has turned escort and has hooked up with a guy who is rich and so she doesn’t have to worry about working, just about having absolutely no freedom because he monitors her every move and she isn’t allowed to talk about porn or sex, and is set financially but utterly imprisoned and becomes a raging drug addict and alcoholic… which would have probably happened anyway… from having to find a job after porn!). It is a tricky thing and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit!

I don’t want to grow up and if my stories are underdeveloped, then it’s because I am underdeveloped, and I don’t see what’s wrong with that. Youthfulness is important. Like I told the soon-to-be-father I know who explained his worry about needing to grow up fast so he can raise his child, don’t grow up too fast! Youthfulness is a big part of being a good parent. You have to scrunch up your face in a hundred different ways and make them laugh to really form that friendship bond, which incidentally, is probably more important than the parent bond. My stories are my babies. I can’t help it if laughter makes more sense than a lot of scolding.

Maybe I just suck as a writer. It’s disheartening because that means I am only good at sucking dick… and quite frankly, I wasn’t very good at that, either.

How To Be a Ho’ and Still Say No, by Julie Meadows

I originally wrote this at AINews.com on February 12, 2006. It is being added to other articles under the category ‘Archive Posts’.

What gets me is that most porn is so boring! So lame. So ungrateful. I mean, really! It’s a multi-billion dollar business and it’s ungrateful to it’s public. I know we’re not talking about rocket science or cold fusion, but we are talking about entertainment. Why is it bad to make good art?

I don’t dislike all porn. Truth is, I don’t have much use for porn, at all. Maybe that’s why I wasn’t a huge star. I got a little recognition for being cute and professional, but ultimately, when I jumped in to perform I fought my bosses all the way. “Yeah, I do scenes, but not with girls.” “Yeah, I do anal, but I don’t like my hair pulled.” “Yeah, I’ll talk dirty, but I won’t call anyone names.” This was my way. Always trying to fulfill the role of the job, but with some class. My way.

I talk to girls. They ask me about how to deal with certain things, and there’s only one way with men in porn (and some women), and that’s to be self-assertive. Know. What. You. Will. And. Will. Not. Do.

Simple.

Always keep it simple. It’s a job. A business. It’s not personal. Ah! But it is, right? It’s personal but only after you do the business part. That’s the trick. Emotion clouds the situation. Emotion is unproductive in business.

I had a director hell bent on getting me to screw on a horse. Not screw the horse! (I’m compensating for the sick people out there. I love ya, but yo’ craaay-zay!) Screw ON a horse. I said no. Then I talked to the owner of the horse. You gotta be ready to see things from all angles here. A horse is a big beast that can crush you from only one little misstep. The companies don’t provide accident/injury insurance. Do they? No. They don’t compensate you when something goes wrong. You have to think about these things, cuz these guys will get whatever they can out of you. Remember, they want to make money first. They don’t really care about you as a person. It’s not right or wrong, it’s the nature of the beast.

I talked to the horse owner who said the horse was very good with people on it. So I talked to my scene partner. If he went for it, then it didn’t seem to bad an idea to try it, and if it didn’t work, no big deal. He didn’t go for it. Would not do it. So, I told the director, no way. It is very important to be aware of what’s going on around you and to attempt reading people when you can. For instance, a male or female who does not pick up a book on HIV and STDs upon deciding to get into this business, should not get into this business. Why? Because they don’t care enough about themselves to be educated and healthy, and when they don’t care about themselves, they don’t care about you. That’s it. If you care, you educate yourself. If you don’t care, then you don’t. If you already know, then you’re already educated and everything is wonderful and perfect! That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it…

I relayed my scene partner’s answer to the director and he took me aside. This is very important, because everyone’s got their angle in every business. Everyone wants something. Never forget that you are the one risking everything here. You are in the spotlight with your body. The director will not get hurt or contract any diseases from your scene. Nor will the person footing the money for the project. (The person you never see on these things.) You alone must deal with the consequences of your actions, and in the end, you have no one to blame but yourself if you do not think for yourself.

This director took me aside and suggested that I seduce the guy into doing the scene anyway. What’s more important here, he whispered these instructions to me while he held my upper right arm firmly in his hand. Obviously, a man used to subtly, yet unsubtly… getting his way. This did not escape my attention. Never be afraid to be intelligent in this business. If intelligence will save you anywhere, it’s in this business!

I reacted, because that’s what I do. I was offended. Deeply. For me, but mostly for my scene partner. He did not want to maneuver his body into me on top of such a powerful animal, and I did not blame him. And the poor horse! That isn’t even considering the horse will be fine with two people fucking on it! A creature with the same moods and changes in temperament as any human being. This isn’t emotional, it’s logical! Common sense is desperately lacking in most people, let alone a porn director looking for a beautiful sex shot in front of a sunset… on a horse…

Where was I? Oh! I am a great reactionary. As long as I don’t think too much, my gut reaction is usually right. So, I pulled my arm away and stepped back, breaking the ‘confidential bubble’ he had created in order to manipulate me, and then I said loudly, “NO. I WILL NOT TRY AND MANIPULATE ‘SO AND SO’ INTO DOING THE SCENE ON THE HORSE…” you should have seen this little guy’s eyes get big as he stepped back from me like my head had just caught on fire and he was afraid of becoming enflamed. I had to do it, though. It was an aggressive move to counter balance the aggressive move on his part. I was not mean to him after that, I did not bring it up again, I merely played the game by his rules and made my point. The lessons we learn in school follow us in life. And one thing is for sure, no matter what your age or what the situation, a bully is either at your throat… or at your feet. This particular director did not bully me ever again after that… I don’t think… I may have to think about that one. Shit! He did. No… he tried. Gotta give him points for persistence!

Anywho! There is nothing wrong with standing up for yourself. Know what you will and will not do. I once did an ‘Ass-To-Mouth’ scene, tried to say no but didn’t know exactly why so I did it anyway, and discovered that I didn’t really get off on feeling dirty in that way. It wasn’t the physical dirty that bothered me, as was my argument against it, it was the mental dirtiness that I didn’t agree with… so I didn’t ever do it again. Easy. I always asked about every specific little thing and stressed the importance of them getting a good scene! It is an art form to be self-preserving and considerate at the same time. I am very good at it. No arrogance intended in that statement… well, maybe a little arrogance. (hee hee)

I don’t hold anything against any person who does what turns them on. What breaks my heart are the stories of girls who ultimately don’t know that they do not have to do anything they don’t want to do. Money? Jeez… Grow an imagination, baby! Go waitress. Work at a drug store. Jump into real estate or telemarketing! No one is forcing you to do anything. It’s America! Go crazy and dream big. Make things happen. Go nuts or you’ll never truly live. If you let someone manipulate you, then you want to be manipulated. If you don’t, then learn from your mistakes and don’t make those mistakes again. We are all perpetually learning about ourselves everyday, and some people learn that they enjoy rough sex. They didn’t know it, and now they know it. Do not give up your integrity for money. Do not sell your soul to fame and fortune if you aren’t willing to think your way into another situation, eventually.

Is that what got me out of performing? The brain is the most erotic organ… I guess maybe it did! A dumb porn boyfriend and then escort work? I was drowning in idiocy, man. Suffocating from the desperate stench of inevitability. Well… not anymore, for now. I love the youthfulness of porn people. Attractive people having fun with each other. The ‘hippie’ attitude. Nothing wrong with being intelligent, erotic and generous. That’s what makes porn good! That’s what makes it art.

Julie Meadows Goes Bald, by Julie Meadows

I originally wrote this at AINews.com on January 15, 2006. It is being added to other articles under the category ‘Archive Posts’.

I think in order to be a decent writer, a person must consider different angles and perspectives. One must really take into account that there are many attitudes that are right and valid, though somewhat askew from one another. I think a good writer is impartial and good at seeing everyone’s point of view. That said… I like pubic hair, damn it! What did pubes ever do to you?? Huh?! Aside from tickle your face, add some much needed floss (for some people), and grab onto and hold that musky odor that people really seemed to like at one point in time?! I just don’t… sorry. I’m sorry. I forget to breath sometimes.

I’m kidding! (No I’m not.) Honestly, I don’t really care that much. (I do.) But the concept is intriguing. So many girls shave it completely off now. I did whack it all off some years back. It all started with the stripping job. Not topless, but nude. Just being a topless dancer did not require me to lop off the pubes, but only to shave them back a bit lest my g-string look like a character from the Muppet Show and not merely an article of clothing. But the nude gig was a different story.

I worked at various clubs all over Dallas and the surrounding areas, you see. When I went to work at the nude bar in Arlington, Texas, I found it quite different from the topless bars because of certain restrictions. In Los Angeles you can showcase your tonsils right there on center stage. In Texas, once the undergarments come off, you can’t bend over at all, and the knees can only spread about six inches from each other. This is important because this is what finally caused me to shave my poonani hair. (Poonani is code for ‘vagina’, in case some of you missed “The Vagina Monologues”). Too much bush meant the guys had to nearly stick their face right in there to see anything. That, of course, meant way too much various guy odor on my delicate femininity. You understand my plight.

Anyway, the only thing that kept me shaving it after I stopped working at that club was the mother effing itching that happens when the hair follicle starts bursting back through and out of that very sensitive skin. In fact, it’s easy to accidentally peel the skin off completely catering to that itching sensation. Way too much information, isn’t it? Thought so.

Now! …that is why I had a bald spot. But there is appeal to having pubic hair, or is it just me? Is hair just altogether gross and I missed the big Non-Pubes Movement? Have we found out that the Hair Down There is bad for us, like the ‘Trans Fat’ that I didn’t even know existed until the company that makes my very favorite coffee creamer started advertising how they don’t allow it in the product? Should I have an ad on my panties just in case a person were to squeal and bolt for the door being unexpectedly attacked by bush. Wait… never mind. I’m married. But still! Why are pubes so bad? Why does the term ‘pubes’ make me giggle every time I write it? I really need to know, damn it!

Without spouting off a lot of redundant facts that no one cares about just to look official somehow, it’s safe to assume that a long time ago people didn’t shave at all. I mean, why would they? They were more interested in discovering ways of making weapons so they could eat. That’s understood, right? Okay. Eventually, people came around to cleaning up a bit around the armpits and legs (except for the French). That’s understood, too? Okay! The seventies and eighties show us still to this day that it is desirable to clean it up, but one can do that without sending the entire mop into the trash bin or down the sink forever.

I’ll admit to being out of the loop. Maybe the directors require it. Someone please fill me in if you see me. Try not to shout it at me across the grocery store. A discreet whisper is okay.

I know I’m not saying anything new here, but the most obvious appeal is that pubic hair is a sign of adulthood. It represents maturity. I like the way girls like Jill Kelly shaved theirs’ down. It was all there, but short. Nice V-shape, low cut. Whatever. Lots of girls have worn it that way. Before I grew mine out completely it was a… what did they call it… a runway? A… a landing strip! Yeah. One thin line pointing at the target. Just an indication, but still there! What’s wrong with that? So many girls shave it off. I got offered a job once to shave it off in a scene. I had to say no. It takes forever to grow it back. Maybe the switch is that when I first got into the industry, it was much more desirable to have hair, especially for print work. Magazine layouts. Photographers turned me away because of my lack of hair. Then again, maybe I’m just stupid enough to believe them when what they really meant was that they didn’t think I was that attractive. Maybe it was more diplomatic for them to say, “Sorry, but you have no pubic hair,” than to say, “You are fugly and you have no boobs.” If that is, in fact, the case, I’m glad they blamed it on my pubes. I would have hated to burn down the building of every guy who called me a titless ogre.

There’s nothing wrong with looking your age because you have hair on your coochie. Some people still like it. In fact, Paul Thomas went out of his way to practically exclaim it on stage at the Adult Video News Awards in 2005. A big, “Stop shaving your pubic hair, girls!” but that really says it, doesn’t it? That’s what it really comes down to. Pubic hair is the mark of maturity. Whether you have it or not, you are showing your age. Are you a woman, or are you a girl? Does that mean if a director or agent requires a girl to be completely shaven that he lacks maturity? Yes. That, or he’s thinking of the audience, which… lacks maturity? Yes. And if a girl shaves it all off, does she lack maturity? Yes. A woman has hair. A prepubescent youngster does not. That’s not to say there’s anything wrong with ameteurity… I mean immaturity. That’s just the way it is. It takes all kinds. Especially in porn.

But!, it is easier to see what’s going on when there’s no hair in the way. But isn’t the sex extremely surgical-procedure-exposed anyway? You can see what’s going on even when there’s hair there.

Then again, I fear ever becoming a dinosaur in my point of view, so maybe having hair goes against something as large as human evolution. Maybe the baldness starts in the groin and eventually evolves to our heads. Somewhere way in the future when the genders become unisex or something like that. And then there’s always the obvious perspective. Fuck it.

The Death of Julie Meadows, by Julie Meadows

I originally wrote this at AINews.com on December 28, 2005. It is being added to other articles under the category ‘Archive Posts’.

How does this work, anyway? I’ve always wondered. Okay, you are a performer in the industry, but the time comes to do something else. So what do you do? Do you a) bow out completely and go live on a farm in Utah, b) Take on the intense task of directing or managing talent because you’re still desperately sado-masochistic and need to be punished for something that happened over twenty years ago, or c) marry some rich guy and wait for him to keel over so you can run off and live in solitude in Paris, France and gorge yourself on crêpes, tarts and Merlot? See, I don’t know. I opted for d) pursue an idealistic passion and remarry the last wonderful, monogamous Midwestern guy on the planet. I am and will always be a hopeless romantic.

So how does this translate in my life, you ask? From porn star performer to porn star writer? What does it mean? Well, I know it means I have weird, limbo schizophrenic conversations with people I used to know how to talk to. They would ask me what I’m up to and I would tell them about movies or feature dancing… or whatever else. Now I say I’m a writer and they look at me like I’m suddenly speaking Portuguese. And then I get uncomfortable because I think maybe I am speaking Portuguese. Then I realize that I am not speaking Portuguese, and then they realize that I am not speaking Portuguese, and then we both look pretty stupid for even thinking I’d know any Portuguese. It’s freakin’ weird, man.

It is strange to be on the other end of the stick. I used to work out in my head how I would defend being in porn should the occasion arise that someone from the “outside” would take the notion to grill me on my life choices. Because of the reaction I’m getting from my peers, I am having to work out in my head how to explain being a writer should the occasion arise that someone from the “inside” take the notion to blow me off for my life choices. Either way, it feels like a battle in life for people to see me, really.

But I think we all have that same problem, don’t you? Whether we are filming sex, going to college, climbing the corporate ladder or starting a political campaign, there always seems to be some big obstacle in making our way by asserting who we are in any given role we happen to play. Even a mother must establish herself firmly as a certain kind of mother lest her own child misunderstand and not take her seriously.

So here I am, a modified Julie Meadows, doing what? Writing about my life. I wrote a whole book of short stories–autobiographical recollections from my freaky deaky adventures–because my life is so damn interesting! More importantly, it is a constant quest for meaning without judgment. And when I say judgment, I mean my own, not anyone else’s. There is something to be gleaned from every experience. Even if it is just gratuitous fun because I get to do things most people don’t!

For instance, I recently attended a Brittany Andrews Slave Auction. A slave auction! How many people can say they know Brittany Andrews and have been to a slave auction at her place? Only me! Okay, quite a few people, but not, like…. ten thousand! Less than ten thousand people, and I was one of them!! WooHoo!

But getting to the base of things, what is the real issue here? What is the real struggle? I’m glad you asked. The real struggle is with identity. It is with behavior. I am struggling with my own sense of self right now. I am struggling with my own integrity. I am meeting the ever present and mythical creatures known as ‘Inner Demons’.

One minute I am quiet and docile and wonderfully “normal”. You know, a married gal. Doing the same thing most people are doing. It would be entirely too boring to exist this way, except that I have already lived a wonderfully crazy life at my young age, so it’s kinda kinky to be “normal”, for me.

The next minute though, something happens. A glitch in the system. In the next instant, I am defensive and combative and am ready to eat my wonderful man’s head. Why? It’s not that I’m insecure because of what other people may or may not think about me. I am insecure because of what I think about me. My inner demons have reared their ugly heads because they’re tired of not being acknowledged. I won’t go into too much detail, but suffice it to say that I go a little cuckoo. Once, I even broke a television set. “Rock-N-Roll, Man!!” Yuck! It was not pretty. It will be fun to write about, but still…not pretty.

I am at a place now where I must face up to things I have blissfully avoided for years, and it feels a lot like death, I guess. Killing off pieces of debris from a past that is physically gone, but still resides in hollow chambers of my mind. If I didn’t write right now, I am afraid of what I would be doing. This is my therapy, just like it was eighteen years ago. I know whatever I would be doing would probably land me in jail.

I am taking the opportunity to do journalistic things and to report things. But the next question is, do I just jump out of the industry and start all over again in another field without the help of my friends and colleagues? No. No matter what, I am devoted to giving back to the community that helped make me who I am, if it will have me. I want to be useful somehow. I want to be beneficial, still. Maybe not in a drastic way, but in some way. Everyone has something to contribute, and I don’t subscribe to the thinking of weird men and women who would put me down as insignificant. There will always be plenty of those, from within the industry, and without.

I’ve written about chemically imbalanced kitty cats, people making their way in the adult industry, West Hollywood (which is, incidentally, the safest place in the world for a woman to live, aside from parts of San Francisco and Manhattan). Now that I am back to Introverted Julie mode, now that I am a geek and I don’t know how to talk to people, I must figure out how to re-establish myself.

In slaying the evil side of my personality, I am finding a way to hone my skills and have fun just wanting to know as much as possible about everyone I already love and care about. Bonding with other writers, making notes about everything, because I think trying to denounce a part of ourselves just because we are exploring other parts of ourselves, is a mistake.

I want to experience the birth of a more mature and stable Julie. I love my life. I love porn people and I love regular people. Understanding is key. That’s all any of us want, anyway. A little darn understanding. Understand?