This one time, I went to a conference for bloggers and took a photo of my boobs squished against my friends’ boobs and posted it on Instagram. The next day, it was used on a very mean site as an example of how unprofessional I (and in turn every woman who has ever blogged and attended the BlogHer conference) am.
I really hope those people are still looking at my Instagram feed, because last weekend, my professionalism shined through. And that profession is sex.
Sex conferences are pretty much the best things that could possibly exist. Except for maybe a cure for cancer.
Catalyst Con didn’t cure cancer, but it did have a panel about how to deal with sex and dating while also dealing with cancer. The lovely, excitable, friendly, knowledgable, adorable, intelligent Charlie Nox taught it and I attended and damn. Powerful shit there.
I’ll write about cancer later. And grief. Because they played a big role in my weekend and were the central plots in my Bawdy Storytelling tale, but for now, I’ll skip them, mostly because it’s late and I just don’t have the energy to cry.
I don’t really have the energy to do anything, thanks to the craziness of this weekend. I spoke three times! Once, at Bawdy, mentioned above, once teaching a workshop on how to build a career speaking and writing about sex, and once as a moderator of a media panel.
Phew, I’m exhausted just thinking about how exhausting this weekend was.
Apparently, I said some things that resonated with people (hooray!) and they were all a Twitter over my workshop. Thanks to Cunning Minx for putting all those tweets together in a Storify and making the material available for you all to read online. You can find all the tweets using the #cconcareer hashtag.
After one of my panels, the sweetest fan ever came up to me, all teary-eyed, and told me she also dealt with grief and that my writings have helped her. Talk about job satisfaction.
Speaking of job satisfaction, I got to hit Mona Darling over the head with a giant cock.
But she got me back.
That’s what I get for messing with a dominatrix.
What I also get for messing with a dominatrix are other amazing photos like these, which we took while eating chocolate dipped pineapples at Disneyland the day before the conference.
But I digress.
Let’s go back to talking about the perks of being a professional sex writer attending a sexuality conference. They include:
Riding to a lube factory (the wonderful Wet Lubricants to be exact) in a party bus with a stripper pole.
Meeting many amazing sex-positive people, including the lovely April Flores, for the first time and having them know who I am!
Getting a whole panel of porn stars, critics and producers to blush.
And going home with a giant basket full of sex toys to give away on my site!
I’m sure I’ll be writing about the psychological benefits of being surrounded by my people plenty later on, when I have the time and energy for such intense posts, but for now, know that I love each and every one of you who came up and said hi, sat in the hot tub with me, walked through the exhibit hall looking at sex toys with me, attended my sessions or came anywhere near Catalyst Con this weekend.
I can’t wait to do it all again on the East Coast in a few months.