I only do this when I feel like it. And I ignore the questions I don't really feel like responding to. You're lucky I answered this one. It's pretty boring.

Been there ('cept for the low self-esteem) and almost done it. If it weren't for the sake of my boyfriend, yeah, no fucking doubt. It's stopped me every time I ALMOST went there.

I don't know or care. Clothes can be armor, but they are what we have to most easily display who we are on the inside. I think nudism is boring and don't wanna be around ugly naked people on a regular basis.

oh, of fucking COURSE!!!! it's not easy for me to keep from flashing them randomly just cuz I'm feeling giddy. Most recently (and this isn't the most FAMOUS of landmarks, but...) a cathedral (I forget which one...St John's Cathedral??? Off the Cathedral Ave stop in Manhattan, I know that...) my friend and I went there stoned and I started posing bondage-style with the Madonnas and Christ figures in the many different chapels (there's 22, I think) and flashing away.

yes. blowjob. during some art-house flick while he was doing acid.

sigh....not a monetary bill. something made clear they thought was owed to them.

no. and only would if I already wanted to fuck them.

I fucking love catfighting as a participant. Fun to watch, but I get fucking jealous and want in on zee ACTION!!!!

You fucktard. I know you as well as many I only know over the internet....and I know you as a creative asshole who is not a fan, producer or model. I think it'd be kick-fucking-ass to hang out in real life, and I (maybe) have a feel from where you're coming. I like you, DUH!!!!

Prolly travelling cross-country back in 1998 on a thousand bucks for a month between myself and my then-boyfriend in my 1988 Buick Century. I had wanted to visit a friend in Portland, OR, and we realized it was about the same price to drive as to take a bus or some shit. I was a waitress, and we saved for my car to get in shape for the drive w/the change I put in a jar after work every day. I got a cutting done by Raellyn Gallina in San Fransisco, saw the Grand Canyon at sunset, hiked Big Sur...I felt somehow different upon return (HA! I also showered a grand total of twice that month - we were sleeping in the car...did I ever fucking STINK!!!!)

After that it's gotta be a couple Christmases ago, when I treated my boyfriend to a couple nights at the Red Lion Inn in the Berkshires. It's full of amazing antiques, a very uppity place, and we had a magical time wandering around like stealth intruders thru all these little nooks and crannies full of random antique goodies in the middle of the night...and I got to beat the fucking pants offa hardcore Scrabble player (he was as toy wholesaler, his wife designed clothing)...Christmas night the three of us "closed" the hotel at 4am as we became wildly animated in our amazingly competitive Scrabble game (don't'chya fuck w/me when I play Scrabble!). Then we drove to MassMOCA (MA Museum of Contemporary Art) and got lost for a day inside the amazing installations there...Then a long drive thru country roads around where my mom's side of the family is from...that one mattered cuz it symbolized what it is I wanna be able to give my man...a promise for the future...

When I feel in control of myself. Happy, confident, content, with enough inside me to freely give some of myself over to strangers, say, in the fucking supermarket.

I only have a vague knowledge...something about a black Goddess-like woman? (I decidedly quite concretely not to look it up on zee internet and act like I know more than I do...but I might, now!:)...)

People can get offended about anything. I guess that's their choice, eh? Or, more likely, inherent personality. I guess Formspring is a space where ya can choose NOT to answer a question, so, why answer if it offends ya? I dunno...But I suggest ya not get offended, yer-self, over others taking offense:)

Depth of emotion. It can be amazingly animalistic, passionate, intense...a sweet nibble on the neck or breast or thigh...or simply a gentle, sweet, "good morning" or "off I go to work, see ya later". Any and all are amazing, given the unending well from which they come.

I cry all the fucking time. I AM h-i-g-h-l-y emotional, and my eyes well up all the fucking time (tho I can't remember the last time I had a *real* waterworks session). Prolly this morning, lying in bed remebering having a blast celebrating Cinco De Mayo with my boyfriend and our friend last night. I cooked like hell, made home-made cocktails, and we listened to music and talked at the kitchen table. My boyfriend got wildly drunk (it no longer takes much, for either of us) and was sooo gorgeously emotional (as he is prone to be). He doens't actually remember a lotta the night, but when we got into our bedroom and he started playing the piano, improvising something like "I've Learned to Put my Trust in Lauri" and then went into "North Country Girl" by Bob Dylan, which I know he's always associated with me...he got me.

Both...at different times, but I'm really a much huger fan of wine. I got take-out wings from a local sports bar tonight, and well...I ain't about to have wine with that. I had an extra pale ale from a local brewery that bottles their stuff. If it's beer, tho, I generally am a fan of Porters, the occasional Stout (but if Guinness is the only decent dark on draft...the barkeep sure as hell better know how to pour it!). I usedta drink an absolute ton of South American reds...there's a ton of great ones out there for very, very accessable prices, and I love the depth to them. I love Spanish and Italian wines. For brunch, Prossecco can't be beat. I drink a lot more white wines now, and I think the quality of a white doesn't have to be great...a poorer-quality white is more quaffable than a less-than-decent red. Also, doesn't stain your fucking teeth. I know that it's not "cool" to say, but I really like rose in the summer with lighter fare. I love grenache! Pinot grigio is my fave for whites.

On one back shoulder I have the Venus of Willendorf, and the other, Emma Goldman. Both are actually unfinished (tho I have no plans to finish them soon) and both were done by people I have known fairly well. The Venus was done by Shawn Hebranks, when he was just starting out, tattooing out of his home (his wife, the poet Meryl Depasquale, is a good friend) for forty bucks an hour. Emma was done in exchange for doing some cleaning for another Laurie (I can't remember her last name anymore) and we spent, like, 3 days together talking incessantly, staying up really late, drinking coffee and taking psuedoephedrine as she learned as much about Emma as she could in order to invoke the proper frame of mind. Both were tatttooed in a manner to attempt to blend into skin, Emma in sepia tone and and the Venus as if she were stone.

Do they have meaning? Why in fuck would I get a big fat naked chick and stern old woman wearing a monocle tattooed on me if they were bereft of meaning???!!! Ha! Yess...

The Venus is an ancient fertility symbol, there's like 3,000 representations of her in the Smithsonian (she was carved in stone and carried, much like Christians wear the Cross today, as a Goddess and protector). I came to her at a time when I felt I had lost all the labels I once felt defined me. I had just left a 9 year relationship I once thought would last forever, had quit my job, was broke as fuck, and weighed 160 pounds (at least...I had stopped stepping on the scale). The only label I felt I could "own" was "woman". I am an essentialist when it comes to the concept of womanhood, at least in how I find myself in it. The Venus to me was a claiming of that.

Emma came at a time of strength. She was an anarchist, labor activist, free-love advocate and feminist during the early years of the labor movement. She gave fiery, rabble-rousing speeches, disdained any orthodoxy, was arrested numerous times, and, well, one of my favorite quotes from her is:"If I can't dance, I don't want to be a part of your revolution". I was coming further and further into a time of power, and wanted her version of womanhood (which is also very much a part of how I define myself) also on my body.

Foils...not inverses.

:)

creating a healthy relationship with the one I love. We both did the work, on our own, at our own (separate) paces in separate ways. We always loved each other crazily, but not always well. We both changed a fuckload in intricate ways over a very long time to forge a sustainable relationship because we both realized individually that it mattered. More than just about anything.

I came to a point in my life where I no longer had the energy to give to others. My own life was so fucked up that I needed all my giving to be for myself. I had no fucking clue what in hell else there was that I was equipped to do; I kinda fell into bondage without distinctly making the decision it was what I *would* do. But, getting further into it, I found it to be a good fit, as an outlet for aggression, as well as a manner in which to view gender and power dynamics. When I criticize feminism, it's, I realize, still from the inside...being a bondage model simply organizes my feminist thought in a different direction, in which I have a harder time fitting into an easily-constructed box as to what that means.

Cook for him.