I Do?

“You’re a difficult woman to love intimately”, he said. “You know this”.

Also Classified.

Licensed Life Coach – Personal Assistant/Companion

Highly efficient and effective consultant looking for work. No project too small. Flexible hours. Flexible pay. Ethical, honest, and privet. I provide excellent service.

Skills and experience: Domestic household tasks, cleaning, organizing, unpacking, packing, closet and storage space utilization, cooking, meal preparation and planning, nutritional health, green eco-friendly living, body and skin care, basic to advanced health and hygiene skills, running errands, animal and plant care, yard care, gardening and food storage, textile artist – quilting, crochet, painting, cross stitch. Adept in many social settings and aware of etiquette. Easy to converse with. Humorous. Skillful writer. Moderate computer skills. Fast and accurate data entry. Filing and shelving. Background in anthropology and psychology, especially in regard to human behavior, social power dynamics, and how it impacts personal and social health. In other words I’m a geek. I also play chess, cards, and board games. Good with children. First aid and emergency care trained. Wonderful travel companion. Music lover and avid reader. I specialize in behavior modification, stress and pain management, social networking, social skills training, and reproductive health.

I am a licensed consultant and do employ specialized staff when necessary, for larger, more complicated, business and organizational projects.

Classified Ad.

Seeking Mentor for Unconventional Relationship

“I’ve been things, and seen places” -May West.

I need… something. A change of pace. To be challenged. Outside perspective.

Unique in many ways. Self-employed business owner. High IQ. Assured. Well read. Music lover. Educated – both traditionally and untraditionally. I’ve done, and been, more than others my age. Fiscal conservative, social liberal. Agnostic. Writer. Artist. Very interested in evolutionary anthropology/psychology, social power dynamics, propaganda and media, sexuality and behavior, violence and non-violence, Discourse… I’m compassionate, easy to converse with, idealistic but pragmatic, service oriented, introverted and yet adept in most settings.

I’m looking for a man in want of His girl friday: A strange admixture of personal assistant and companion. A man interested in mentoring, guiding, cultivating, the potential and reality of me. Age is a non-issue with the caveat that I’ve found young men don’t have the worldliness I find attractive in older men. I have a fondness for Professors, or those of higher education, white tower or not. I’m not looking for a knight, savior, or hero. I don’t need to be saved, except perhaps from being driven to no end.

October Rain.

Temperamental weather.

I’m listening to Bach’s solo cello suite No.1 in G-Major – Prelude.


Mr. White, in the kitchen, with the stock pot.

Me at the Moment.

I’ve been on the computer all day. Looking for a job. I placed a few adds. Working on the resume. Brainstorming ways to grow my business. Every few hours going back to the classifieds, pouring over them for something to do with my time. I’ve made 15 scarfs in the last month. I need a break from my life. I want to solve someone else’s problems right now because that’s easy. And at the moment am most deffinatly not motivated to do those things that (eventually) will solve my own, because it’s hard. Mostly, and I kind of hate to say it: there are very few problems that money can’t solve.

So “come up and see me sometime”.

And as my high school Humanities teacher used to say, “don’t clap. Just throw money”.

Moody October.

Well hello there, long time no write.

First order of business, a few of my readers have had questions about me leaving salt lake. I’d like to point out that there are two writers on my blog right now. Miss Grey and Scratch. Scratch was thinking of moving but hasn’t. I haven’t figured out a way to differentiate more between his entries and mine. But I’ll work on that because it’s causing confusion.

Second, my significant Other moved out. He decided he needed his own space to sort through some things. Get to know himself. Sigh. Sad and bummed. And I suppose… I don’t know. I think it’s for the best, for the both of us. We are getting to know each other as friends. And you know what they say, “fast in = fast out”. Proven once again to be true. Sigh. And I have to be honest, my line of work was a constant source of conflict. Some lifestyles aren’t conducive to certain types of relationships. I guess?

Third, an old friend, friend of two decades, has moved in. Mr. White. I’ll be writing more about him and all the antics we’ve been through. His partner is going to be moving too. Sigh. Full house. Houseboys. I’ve got my work cut out for me. However I think this work will be especially productive. So look forward to more media art coming your way.

Fourth, Life. Goodness.

Still housebreaking my dog, Love. Part beagle, part greyhound, she LOVES to run, fast. Especially away from me, when one of the new house occupants forget she’s an escape artist. She’s young, and playful. So sweet. Very cuddly. And easily excited.

I’ve been helping my father harvest honey, and his garden produce.

I’ve also been harvesting my garden. Making breads and soups. Apple crisp. Canned apricot preserves. Drying herbs and fruit. giving vegetables away to bewildered neighbors. I’m hoping to treat the soil, too clayish. I wasn’t able to get any root vegetables to grow, with the exception of the Jerusalem artichoke. Have no idea what to do with them, but I know they’re incredibly nutrient rich. I started a compost pile. Love likes that, finds something inappropriate to eat when she’s on the loose. Nothing like stinky dog fart. Next year I’m adding bees and chicken.

Nutrition and health have obsessed me this summer. Looking up body and skin products for toxic ingredients. Guess what? Even if its marked “organic”, “natural”, or “healthy”, it doesn’t really mean it’s good for you. After finding out how toxic personal products are, I’ve taken to making my own. I’m in the process of replacing all of my cosmetics to something that won’t kill me. What a process that’s been. The obsession compelled me to broaden my research to food and household products, furniture, and what ever else you can think of… yarn for goodness sake. Teaching myself to make my own socks. I’ve completely gone off the deep end. Way to much free time on my hands.

I’ve been on some sort of personal mental vacation, no writing, very few clients, little  phone time, distracted by my personal relationship… just trying to cope with all the change over the past six months. I’ve been sleeping a lot. Sometimes till three in the afternoon, going to bed at seven in the evening. Drinking too much. Smoking again. Lots of stress, more or less, shuts me down, hard to focus on making a living. Or being creative.

Sometime you got to do good to feel good. And not the other way around. So I’ve got quite a bit I’d like to get done yet.

This is Miss Grey signing off.


Take a snapshot of my life, and it might appear placid, slow, smooth, polished, idyllic perhaps. But it’s Not. Not really. It’s fast paced. Calculated. Computed. Acutely flexible. And more haphazard then a snapshot will expose, or reveal.


“Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans”. Pearl s. Buck.

And often,

“Life is just one damn thing after another”. Elbert Hubbard.

But it’s Mae West who said it best,

“I’ve been things and seen places”.

I’m home.

(Author: Scratch)

Today was the first day back to Miss Grey’s place in nearly two weeks.  So much has changed in her garden – what’s been growing and what has been removed – and it makes me smile to see things flourish.  Her garden is a metaphor that, over the last couple months, has served my own growth by acting as a mirror.  I’ve had my hands in its soil and been assisting in its care and health.  But the real growth has been in my heart and mind.

I was close to moving to Berkeley on the 7th of August.  I had become so frustrated with my city’s culture, borne mostly from the dominant religion’s influence, that I was ready to jump over Zion’s white picket fence and run.  My bank account was resting at a meager $1.55. I felt I had nothing to lose anyway.

My birthday party last Saturday proved to me that I had a lot more at stake.  Friends from all around the city, people I know and love, filled my back yard that night, drinking and cavorting, overlapping social circles in my life.  It was beautiful.  Each of them are seeds of the rarest kind that I had suddenly seen bloom in front of me.  To leave these people that I have been sharing so much of my life with, would be a terrible loss. There’s nothing wrong with digging my hands in deep, letting my fingers slip into the soil and take root.


I picked up the yoga mat again today.  It sat in the southeast corner of her living room, rolled up tight, waiting for me.  Holding it close to me, I smelled our sweat – mine and Miss Grey’s – intermingled in the royal-blue rubber mat.  I was overcome with emotions, feeling a closeness with my Mistress that ran deep, like an underground river.  Without making a sound, I unrolled the mat on her back patio made of bricks, and began my poses.

Miss Grey had graduated me from Her tutelage a couple weeks back, and I felt a little lost.  What would I do without my teacher?  The only response in my mind, from the Master within, was to continue with what I had been taught. “Ground your thumbs,” Miss Grey would command in my mind as I rested in downward dog.  “Push your palms out flat, press your heels toward the floor and dig your toes into your mat.”  The blood would rush to my head and I’d breathe deeper.  I was grounding myself, sweating and pressing into the earth below me.

God, it’s good to be home.


It’s a quiet friday afternoon… Alone but not lonely. Sitting. Staring at the computer screen. Wanting to write without really knowing what to say. Or maybe knowing what to say and not knowing how to word it right.

Life has been going full force for about six months now. And I guess now’s the time to catch a little breather.

Owl and Squirrel found a place together, and Owl moved out last week. She took the doggie with her, and her two cats. The pet front has been busy despite the loss. There’s been the addition of a puppy.

Oh yes, puppy. And she’s an amazing bundle of energy. Kafka kitty is starting to adjust, not bad for week one.

My significant Other has moved in.

… so my day swept me up and this is all the writing I’ve done. Guess something is better than nothing.

Public and Privet.

At long last…. I’m writing.

As we all know, but mostly forget, is that the internet is a very public space. And very little about any of us is privet information. Google your own name sometime and see what I mean. $15, someones full name, mixed with the net… gets you anything you want to know.

There have been three incidence of this very public vs. privet, arena  I’m talking about.

Unfortunately all three incidence have been my privet life being taken too public.

The first: back in january, when my new boyfriend outed me to his somewhat prudish family. Yep, told his siblings about The Kink Project and my blog. I really love the man, things are still going strong between he and I, but you might hold off sharing that tid bit of news till they’ve gotten a chance to know me. Lucky for me they’ve given me a chance. Still, hard for me to Write under those circumstances. I’m kind of over it.

The second: A client took my compliance statement information and did a search on me. After which he very inappropriately, started sending me emails, detailing everything he’d found, and defended his actions by saying anyone could do the same, that it’s not a privet place out here. I debated a week before taking down my compliance statement. The client was right anyone could do the same, and I best protect my anonymity. I thought about stripping down the gallery but wasn’t willing to make that move, just yet, as there was nothing in any of pictures that requires a compliance statement, but I thought it best to cover my ass. I’m not over it: I stopped writing. Stopped making posts. Ambivalent.

The third: And current crisis….

I don’t even know where to begin.

I guess it starts years and years ago…  I met the woman you know as Mistress Veronica V. We lost touch with one another many times over the years but we somehow managed to remain friends. Often very distant. With the advent of the Project she immediately came to mind. The perfect cover model for my site. I tracked down her parents and left a message. A few weeks later M. Veronica emailed me. She could do a few photo shoots with me. The idea was to feature different photographers, and perhaps set up the site to sell prints.

Unfortunately I ran into problem after problem.

Photographers were hard to come by. Many wanted to keep the photo rights. Many wanted to be paid lots of money. Many wanted to shoot porn, and that’s not what the Project is about.

M. Veronica could rarely get away. For various personal reasons.

And my own life got so busy that the Project sat on the back burner. The whole no writing thing, you’ll recall.

There was one other minor concern with using M. Veronica as a model: if CV ever saw the pictures he would go ballistic. I think both of us assumed the Project would remain a small tight knit group of friends and artists.

Sigh…  CV found the Project. I received an email from M. Veronica requesting that I remove her from the Project… As many of you have noticed and commented on. I haven’t emailed her back. Other than taking the gallery down… I haven’t done anything with the site. It’s just too damn depressing, you know what I mean?

That was until this afternoon.

I’ve never met CV in person, and though M. Veronica hasn’t spoken of him, I’ve heard enough through the grapevine. Unsavory. This wouldn’t be an issue except it seems that MR CV called up one of my photographers yesterday, and harassed him. CV insisting that he knows where I live etc.and demanding to know who I am. Very creepy. I still haven’t emailed a reply to M. Veronica, and there haven’t been any further emails from her, and I’m worried. Sounds like I’ve got a crazy after me and it’s time for me to file a restraining order. Just perfect.

So there it is folks, this is what can happen to you if you ever become a writer on the World Wide Web. Think about it for a min or two.

Here’s the deal: I’ve taken months off from the Project. Doing a risk assessment. Is it worth it? Do I really want to keep doing what I’m doing? Is what I’m getting out of it more than the shit I’m taking for it?

After giving it a lot of thought: here’s not what’s going to happen. I am not going to be intimidated, bullied, or harassed by anyone.

I’m writing. Making posts. There will continue to be changes to the Project, as necessary. But I’ve worked long and hard for this place and I’m not going to run, or pull the plug.

In Retrospect…

(Author: Scratch)

“My god. The view from up here is breathtaking.”

This was the thought running through my mind when I completed the Ropes course many years ago. After climing up a bare, 50-foot pine tree, I stood atop the wooden plank bolted into its apex and looked over the forest. This was the view of the eagle.

Looking back over the last year of my service to Miss Grey, I’ve marveled at the growth I’ve experienced. Even when Her presence and influence wasn’t in-person, I was being taught by Her through the drills, the yoga, the conversations and tutelage that continues to resonate in my heart and mind. While it’s true that the Master-student relationship never ends, there’s a point where the student arises from his seat and says “I am whole,” realizing that the Teacher is within.

The archetype I have been following is that of the warrior: a young boy who leaves his home in search of other lands and adventures, and who returns as a man. In a letter to Miss Grey, dated last September, I expressed the wish “to master my mind. Fear, confusion, mistrust, insecurity, neurosis, disempowerment and self-judgment are no longer states of mind worthy of my energy.” I have attained this purview and I will continuously perfect it through practice.

It’s in the last year that I’ve come to appreciate the value of work, the joy of play, the needlessness of punishment – I’ve cultivated a staunch disinterest in victimhood and instead will push through to discovering my power, my strength and worthiness.

I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
– Bene Gesserit “Litany Against Fear” from Frank Herbert’s, Dune

Miss Grey has taught me through subtle (and sometimes not-so-subtle) ways how to shape the Man I wish to be, physically, mentally and spiritually.  I’ve discovered what my boundaries are in many areas of my life and, most importantly, how to hold them firmly planted.

I am leaving Utah, my birthplace and home for 28 out of my 30 years, for numerous reasons.  And much like the returning warrior, I will one day come back to Utah, carrying with me a boon of knowledge, wisdom, experience and skill that I can employ in the shaping of my world.  Perhaps then, someone might wish to call me “Master,” much the way I have with Miss Raven Grey.

I look forward to the adventure.