I love holiday! I made it to the wonderful big city, about 1500 km from my small city, in about a day and half. The ferry was only delayed for 5 hours because of 100km/hr winds. It only took 6 rides the whole way, and one of them even gave me $100! And I didn’t have to do anything! I’ve come a long way from the $25 truck stop handjob…ok that was 3 months ago, but seriously, I’m on holiday and ain’t workin for nobody this week. Only meandering about the snowy streets, trying on fancy stripper clothes at the *gasp* not-so-sleazy sex shop that actually has excellent costumes, checking out the multiple used book stores that have books I’m looking for, and the library! This one even has a graphic novels section that is dominated by Jewish authors. I just finished up The Rabbi’s Cat and highly recommend it, as well as anything by the author, Joann Sfar. This city feels big and cosmopolitan, but in a manageable way.

I also got to visit the local sex workers’ drop in/support center, they were really sweet and gave me a tour of the place. It’s wonderful to see long term projects in place that serve such a vital purpose, if not just to be around radical sex work activists (they’ve heard the term sex work before! they’re trans-inclusive! woah!). I’ve been deprived, by choice of course, for a while. I hate this feeling of being torn between places I love, and my identity. My need for belonging on a social level, versus on a political level. I’ve never felt at home in big cities and big scenes, because they are so saturated and cliquey that it hasn’t seemed worth the effort to try and break in. Yet in the places where I feel most accepted socially, the parts of me that don’t quite fit in are shushed out of the public sphere. Sometimes it feels as if others make more of a priority of hiding me than I do. “Let’s not talk about your profession” “You shouldn’t have told me what you do” “Don’t call yourself that”….