Lesbian Lovers–Not!

You saw the YouTube video of my bleach hurling neighbor. I interpreted the event as evidence of racism, or indicative of how people act towards those society rejects, like people with records. Many of you saw the video. You listened to the lady’s drunken rambling and you saw something else. You reported that you witnessed sexual tension. You said you noted a preoccupation with what I might be doing. You commented that you heard an underlying sadness in the lady’s laments because she was excluded. Many of you asked: are we lovers? Were we lovers? Is she more than a drunk–is she also a woman scorned?


No. To reiterate. No, we are not,were not, lovers. I have never had a woman for a lover. If I ever meet a woman who will change my life, she won’t have anything in common with the neighbor.

The You Tube Link



From Harvard to Homeless to Homey to Hooker

A Hooker with a Degree in One Hand and a Rap Sheet in the Other
Monday, November 19, 2018
I have a morbid sense of humor. I find amusement in things that others might find depressing, upsetting, even mean…I readily make myself the brunt of a joke if it makes me laugh. This practice is called “gallows humor.” I always understood gallows humor to be the jokes people made between themselves as they waited their turn to put the noose around their necks during public hangings. If there was ever a time that would benefit from levity, that would be it. How can I not laugh at the fact that somehow my Harvard got ahold of my prison address at the Women’s Community Correctional Center, called W Triple C.. I had to chuckle at the thought of the alumni affairs office rushing the magazine to me since I was valued as a graduate, only to have the magazine sit in the prison mail room because inmate desires were low priority. “Next time no come jail,” the ACO (Adult Correctional Officer) snapped at me in Hawaii’s colloquial dialect, called pidgin, when I asked about the late mail. Correspondence from the outside breathed a bit of life into that stagnant prison world.

The Alumni magazine situation taught me a lesson. I was the same person on the inside, but how people viewed me and made decisions on my worth was determined by what they thought I had done, not by anything anyone actually knew about me. Staus is an invention, a construct. I was either this scholar or that criminal.  Not surprisingly, the felony negates the honors, negativity being so much stronger than positivity in humans. In fact, the honors become a source of gallows humor at best to cruel mockery at worst. I have heard, “They made a movie about a girl who overcame adversity called Homeless to Harvard. You’re Harvard to Homeless. To Homey. To Hooker.” Ok, that’s funny, but “What a waste” or “She is proof affirmative action doesn’t work” were far less accurate and way more painful. The fact is, on a soul level, I am neither scholar nor criminal, my deepest identity has nothing to do with the things I have done that society spotlights. In my humble opinion, I believe I Am the purpose in my heart. Since status is a construct I am going to be the builder and decide “me” for myself.  know what I want people to say when asked to complete this sentence: Caroleena is so [fill in blank]. I want people to say, Caroleena is so Positively Impactful. This blog, our blog, uplifts and encourages. My identity is the uplifted, the encourager. According to who? According to me. Failure is not an identity, it is an event. Prison is not where I “ended up” but where I passed through. Good thing I did or I wouldn’t have to stories of lesbianism behind bars, which will begin next post. By the way, I always want to know what someone did time for because as much as I know that crime doesn’t define a soul, the things people get caught for are decent indicators about what’s going on with them—and seldom the one and only time they made that move. I will tell you because I know you’re like me and you want to know.  I was caught with $10 worth of black tar heroin in 2002. The manner of arrest is so embarrassing I haven’t mustered the nerve to be that cringingly honest yet. Not yet. But I will keep my word that my blog is the most honest account of (some of) the taboo and the personal.

Get What You Want from a Provider By Doing This One Simple Thing

YMMV? This translates to your mileage may vary. If you read discussion sites that are written by men who want to compare notes about seeing different providers, you will often see ymmv. In other words, what a provider will happily do with one guy, she may or may not do with anyone else. But why is that? Isn’t she there to make money? Shouldn’t she always give her best if she wants to be successful? Let me explain why providers have different attitudes towards different guys. The short answer is different guys have varying attitudes towards providers.

Imagine that you have come to spend time with a provider. Both of you know that the expectation is she is going to spend time with you. There’s no confusion. However, she does not enter the room until you ask her to. Of course after you asked her to come into the room she does. But she does not step toward you until you initiate the invitation. compare this imaginary provider with a different imaginary provider. Imagine that the second woman is happily in the room with you from the get-go, ready and waiting to begin the interaction. In both cases you ultimately get the interaction you wanted, but would you find the experience the same? Probably not. You would probably go with the provider who did not have to be asked the obvious. at the end of the day, upon further reflection, it’s likely that you will feel a lingering sense of annoyance at the first provider for making you ask.

No doubt you are reading and thinking, “I know all of this already why is she saying this?” I say this because you would be amazed, absolutely amazed, at how many guys do not pay until the provider asks. Once the provider asks, there are a number of different responses. The tiny minority of guys will look with wide-eyed innocence and ask “you wanted something? I didn’t know that.” And then they’d look at you with the same look of wide-eyed innocence, hoping you’ll say “that’s alright forget about it.” Those guys are pretty rare.

Usually, guys have a standard response after you say, gently, “so… maybe you have something for me…?” These guys also affect a look of wide-eyed innocence. But they spring into action. They make a show of looking for that pesky wallet, now where did it go…? They pat themselves down. they look in the shirt they might have removed. They come up with the wallet and remove some bills. They look at you and say “where do you want me to put this?” kind of holding it up in the air as if this is sort of a strange thing that you want and they are not sure of how to proceed.

Let’s say, for the sake of argument that the recommended donation is somewhere in the hundreds of dollars. I have always been a curious sort who experiments with different scenarios. So there were many times that I would not ask for anything upfront and wait until the end just to see what there was to see. Guys who had previously shorted me gave me the proper amount as dictated by the market without promoting, if I asked up front. Ah ha! I had figured as much!They knew what they were supposed to pay! All the previous times they were hustling me. I also noticed they always paid with one or two large bills, like a hundred dollar bill or fifties, the rest in fives or tens. I hypothesized they came prepared, if and only if, I insisted they come correct. But if I was too trusting, they had the small bills in order to seize the moment and short me. Carpe diem, I guess. They think they are getting over by playing games but the joke is on them.

I said before I was such a woman as a provider. I unsuccessfully attempted to adopt male indifference towards the opposite sex when wearing my provider hat (so to speak). Yet, I couldn’t help getting my feelings hurt when guys who had built trust with me shorted me the first time I didn’t ask for the money beforehand.

Caroleena, overly emotional provider


What difference does it make if the provider gets the money after all? Just as a guy would prefer a provider who didn’t play games, providers want the same thing. No matter what the guy’s opinion of providers, the fact remains that they, like everyone else, want respect. Providers don’t want to feel like they are being mistreated. And if you get a guy who comes in and straight away does what he’s supposed to do, you feel he understands what you need. This is a person you want to hang on to. This is a person you want to make the best effort with. This is a person you could like. As opposed to someone you don’t really care if you see again or not, except for the fact that you can squeeze a little money out of him. It’s ironic–a guy coming correct with the money is one of the surest ways to get a provider to see said guy as something more than a dollar sign. Because he shows that he sees the provider as more than a p**** surrounded by flesh.

Why Does a Respectable X-Hooker Write?

A Respectable X-hooker. Is Caroleena’s writing putting her respectability at risk by emphasizing the “hooker” instead of the “x” ?

Educated Escort? Yes, that’s what I became. No one expects someone with my skin color, who works in my profession to begin an encounter discussing the three main ideas of The Art of War, by Lao Tzu. Sure I it is pompous to discuss ancient Chinese philosophy. Nevertheless, I
like to introduce myself by going a little over the top in my emphasis on my academic
background because I like to see the look of surprise on the face of a person who had me
pigeonholed into one category, only to find out I was nothing like stereotypes suggest. I’m a
contrary individual in that I like being defiant. I’m not what you think I am! But the truth is, prior
to my own involvement in this off track way of life, I had the same stereotypes about people I
read of in the paper, or viewed in PBS documentaries. Twenty years ago I never would have
met the me I am now, or if I did meet her I would want to help, since I was a service provider
clearly separate from “them.”
When I first tried narcotics and faced the seemingly daunting task of purchasing drugs by
myself, I thought I would have to find young black men grouped in surly clusters on the corners
of streets named after MLK. I was sure they’d , all have guns at the ready. I imagined having to
learn how to pass money in exchange for dope through complicated handshakes that
incorporated palm slapping, finger snapping, and ghetto slang (what the press called “Ebonics”
in the 1990’s). I was enormously surprised to find that drugs were not just a black thing but
people of all races and ages did drugs- and sold drugs. I began my addiction career at age 23
and it was then that I had proof positive that media portrayals were…not entirely accurate.
Nevertheless I still felt shame that in a way I became what everyone expected of students who
were admitted to elite colleges bc of affirmative action. So when a white man does a double
take upon hearing me say “media portrayal” I smile to myself because I know what he would
never want to think is true- that I am more like him than not. And if I’m being really honest I will
admit I am trying to prove this commonality to myself.

The Final Word on Reviews, by the Respectable Ivy League x-streetwalker turned sex talker

Remember my bleach hurling neighbor from Memorial Day 2019? On Sunday July 7, 2019, my intuition told me to check her Facebook. On May 7, 2019 bleach lady posted my cat as a free orphan giveaway cat in need of a family. She had his pic bc he played with her cat during what I thought of as cat play dates. In fact, these cat interactions were opportunities for bleach lady to take pics and post them above untrue captions. Anyone can say anything online. So I got to thinking about reviews. Here’s how I woul do utilize reviews about providers if I was looking for companionship:

Instructions for Utilizing Provider Reviews for Guys Who Understand Statistics.

I could write a book about writing. Wait! That’s what I’m pretty much doing for people swayed by OPOp–Other People’s Opions, especially after the Bleach Lady’s online deception.

Always question the validity of anonymous reviews. People can use anonimity to give them courage to speak up. Or they can launch sneak attacks while cloaked in shadows. there is no getting around the fact that it is impossible to know with 100% certainty that the writer of a review is a legitimate experiencer of that which he or she is reviewing. Was the author the provider herself? Perhaps stirring up controversy by posing as different people with differing opinions. Was the review written by a star struck fan blinded by adoration? Or an enemy with a bottomless well of hate, blinded by venom? Maybe the reviews accurately reflect individualized experiences as written by people who interacted with provider. There are so few reviews a couple of positive or negative reviews can skew perceptions of readers unrealistically.
Question: How would I discern accuracy with only a small number of provider reviews?
I download apps that have tens of thousands of previous downloads and scores of reviews. I keep in mind that there are shills with fake praise and competitors with fake problems. I look for people with similar opinions, based on different, unique experiences. I steer clear of vague language that doesn’t explain why, exactly, the app is so great or horrible. Lastly, I look for comments about my particular interest, such as ease of set up or fast delivery time for orders.
Answer: I’d only consider specific reasons for opinions about characteristics that matter to me. If I couldn’t answer the question “why does reviewer feel this way?” –I’d find out about provider myself if I had enough interest to read reviews! Lol.

Fantasy Fulfillment out of love instead of desire for $-I was on a bad road

I was proud to be an open minded provider who applied the intimate lessons to personal life. I had learned that men constantly thought of sex and wanted to have sex with just about anyone. I wanted to match my mindset to what I had learned about the sexual appetite of men. “Think expansively,” I told myself when I wanted to introduce a new sexual scenario with a “regular,” (someone I saw frequently). I decided the best way to successfully keep business by introducing an element of surprise would be to turn fantasies into reality. I also wanted the person I was unlucky to have fallen in love with interested. I really wanted him to be as obsessed as I was but that was unrealistic. Tricks and my trick-turned-love-interest wanted to involve other people. I went along. In addition to appearing creative I would have a chance to show how cool I was about involving other people. In truth, the idea of other people in the bedroom made me uncomfortable But I was unable to resist my feelings for this one time client, and I very much wanted him to see me as a cut above others. I mentally reviewed the fantasies he had shared with me and chose one that I felt most comfortable with. Yes, I had just the thing! My client/friend, the person I was “hanging out” with, always had a lot of suggestions for me about how I could improve my technique when I gave him very personal attention. He had wondered aloud if I was more skilled than a gay man who had much more practice than me and who had the added advantage of knowing from personal experience what felt good. I had responded that we should do a blind taste test, as shown on soft drink commercials I saw as a child. People on the street were given small cups of I identified soda and asked to choose the better drink–Pepsi versus Coke. Wouldn’t it be fun to blindfold New York friend and hav him experience my attention and the guy’s attention and choose whom he preferred. If it was done well it would be obvious which of us was more skilled.
I felt quite self-congratulatory as I made the arrangements. I could hardly wait for the appointed time but finally I revealed that a person was on his way over and the taste test plan was in motion.
“He’s coming here? Now?” My friend looked appalled.
“I thought that was what you wanted! You said that would be the best?” My feelings were hurt in spite of telling myself everything was all in good casual fun.
“Those are just fantasies. Fantasies are only good if you make like you are going to do them.”
“That’s why I invited the guy! So we could do it. I thought you pretty much gave me permission.”
“Common sense should’ve told you I didn’t mean really for real.”
I had been foiled again by the elusive thing called common sense that told everyone but me how to proceed. As I called the guy you cancel I reflected upon the irony of failed communication when both conversationalists are open, honest and interested. The moral of the story–for some, fantasizing is like window shopping. For others fantasizing is an actual roadmap with a real destination. Always best to know which camp you and your partner(s) fall into. I never window shop unless I can buy. But that’s me. I was willing, but those fantasies remained imaginary.

Boy or Girl?

“Are you a boy or a girl?” The first time a man pulled over to the curb and asked me this question in Downtown Honolulu I was more than a little offended. Was he trying to say I was ugly? I angrily asserted that I was a woman, just maybe a little tired from “runnin’ ‘em hard” or choosing drugs over sleep for several consecutive days. I answered the question honestly. Yes, I was a female, no I had never been a male at any point in my life. The standard anatomical female body was, to my enormous surprise, declined time after time. I’m talking at least 100 times since I started in the companion field at the turn of the twenty first century and for over a decade thereafter. Other women said they were often asked the same thing. “The prettiest mahus are prettier than women. And they take better care of themselves than women. It’s a compliment.” Yes, I suppose that’s true. But when I let the client who became a friend who became my love (unreciprocated) I came to understand that the men were not asking me simply because they thought I was a man. The blunt truth was that scores of men hoped I was a man. Best case scenario: beautiful face, trim body, and male genetalia. I did not fit the bill. Stay tuned for what I did about this unrequited male desire.

Hooker Moral Code About Hidden Cameras

Many people have asked about my experiences with hidden cameras. Some wantedme to install hidden cameras for their pleasure. Based on my observations (my observations are the info source for all of these posts, not actual facts) people who know each other never sought to watch each other having sex. For some reason, the idea of seeing people I know having sex makes me super uncomfortable. And the idea of them seeing me is unthinkable! I don’t know why that is. Truly enjoyable voyeurism and exhibitionism demands big time secrecy. Strangers watching strangers without the watch-ee knowing there’s a watcher.

I didn’t often get requests for secret observation but every now and then someone asked if he could watch me with someone, or me with a couple. Occasionally a guy asked if I could arrange for him to watch a couple. The requestors never wanted me to tell the people, in order to observe people in their natural environments, naturally. But my moral code, (yes hookers have moral codes) did not allow me to engage in any form of rape or non consensual sex act. Everyone has a moral code, standards about what is and is not acceptable. I defined standards clearly so I would know immediately if something I was asked to do was permissible or not. And by my standards I could never do something without getting consent. I always sought permission, even if the person making the request specifically asked me not to tell the people he wanted to watch. I never let anyone else define what was acceptable for me, not even for any amount of money. Maintenance of my morality was my way of preserving my “self,” of keeping my personhood intact while doing things I never thought I would do for the sake of a drug. I never did secret hidden cameras. Permission was never granted. it is not a very high standard to reach, but I am glad that I maintained that standard. I am proud of myself. hey, when you are doing things that are not very great you’ve got to take your proud moments where you can get them!

To be more neutral in tone, let me put it like this: exhibitionism (the act of being seen) and voyeurism (the act of observing someone engaged in an act) are integral to the outsider looking in. Here’s a scenario I’ve participated in: People want to watch and sit in the bed with someone who is enjoying what I call active alone time. Or the person (for some reason I always get an individual making request) wants to sit on the bed and watch a couple. Maybe the person wants to remain a mere observer. Sometimes the person wants the option of joining in. Things start to get complicated because the participants all have their rules, what is personally acceptable or unacceptable. Some people make a game of withholding permission for the observer to get involved. Kind of make the observer earn the privilege of participating. There’s so many ways to have creative fun.
But how do hidden cameras fit in? I must msintain my standards of anonymity–no one knows who is participating, privacy–no one knows what participants are doing, and informed consent–everyone knows what’s going on and agree before activities are underway. In any group situation I am in charge. Therefore, the rules that are nonnegotiable are mine. I figured out a way to work in hidden cameras and that is by creating an unknown schedule. One time, I had the person(s) agree that at some point in a series of sessions, they were recorded while wearing the animal masks I provided. Everyone was open to the recording so they never knew if I was recording everyone or all three of them. After awhile they relaxed and forgot about the camera. For some reason they thought I never recorded but they were cool when they found out I had been recording the whole time. There’s so much more to say but I will stop here and see wait for the many requests for more details.