Catching Up

I do so hate to go for so long without writing! Once more, my busy schedule has taken precedence.
I have officially ended my online sugar daddy search, profiles have been taken down, email addresses erased and identities destroyed.
I'm also in the process of setting up shoots with several photographers, my newest ambition is to be a new face in Perfect 10 Magazine although they seem to adore Russian women willing to spread their legs in a shot. I should like to become a super model and auction off my used underwear. It's been over a year since I participated in a photoshoot and I feel completely novice to the industry but I should end up with some quality shots for my portfolio, so I'm looking forward to it. Afterwards I will send the best(conservative) shots to a variety of matchmakers including Millionaire's Club, has anyone had any luck through matchmaking agencies? I wonder.

Last weekend I went to one of the hottest night clubs in the area. It's known for its french cuisine during the day and the rich pockets that fill its bar at night. I went with 6 girls and 1 male friend, we arrived at the valet in a Cadillac Escalade ready to dance the night away.
A little trouble at the door was the result of the two underage girls in our company, nothing a little cash under the table couldn't settle.

Then I met Emir, the first young man to buy me a drink that night. He couldn't take his eyes off my cleavage, thanks to my crushed velvet bustier-styled top. I knew he had money, he smelled wonderful and I recognized his Armani get up from my most recent trip to the mall. We chit chatted about the usual as he exchanged sly looks with his two friends, who were also seated at our reserved table. By the time we departed, I knew what sort of car he drove, that he owned an auto shop, car lot and numerous vacant properties, and his marital status(separated). Usually, a night like this would be a complete bust in my book, but because I expected nothing it was a great success. Emir and I have plans to go out next weekend.


Some have asked why a bright young thing such as myself would pursue a sugar daddy relationship.
It's not that I'm lazy, I'm actually quite ambitious. I have an interest in everything and anything but I lack direction.
More than anything I desire never to "work".
Work.
The word paralyzes my entire body and sends shivers into the deepest corners of my soul...
Work.
It's the reason I stop showing up after being hired a week earlier.
To perform a repetitious task, a mentally numbing thankless job. It isn't me. It isn't life.
And therefore I vow to do everything in my power to avoid this thing called work.

Money not only talks, but it screams these days. I'm here, willing and ready. Ready to cash in on my youth and all that comes with it. I feel a little redundancy when I have to explain my point of view. Often I myself ponder the logic of my thoughts but I just exist and there is no logical explanation for my train of thought. Logic is relative to the individual, as with everything else in life.

A friend flew down to visit with me during the holidays. We attended a bash in the burbs and there she met a disgustingly rich fellow who has bought her jewelry and will fly her back out here in a couple of weeks to visit with him. Although she went much farther him than I'd have gone after just meeting someone for the first time, I can't help but wonder, why do I have such shitty luck? Is there something in particular I should change to draw in the right men?
I also met someone at the party. While I had a good time and "made him feel better than he's felt in years"(no sex involved) he ended up being her guy's flunky, ie: total waste of time.