Bloggin' Hoe

Sex worker, writer, gabber, friend. 35 years old in Australia. I have a side blog: www.h0e-rebl0g.tumblr.com

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So you can catch up on my lore and my outfits ✨

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Feeling like a frolicking little fairy in this week’s Friday fit 🧚🏻‍♀️🌸

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A couple of weeks ago I had Something Happen that was absolutely terrifying and a real close shave and more of a road to Damascus moment than anything I’ve experienced before. And that’s saying something as someone who has lived a hell of a life, not all safe or sane or well-advised!! And I’m sorry to vaguepost like that but I’m not going to expand on it any more even if asked. Just know I got incredibly lucky and I feel fortunate.

For the week after it I felt like trash, totally emotionally and physically depleted and scared that I would never get back to my usual bubbly, cheerful, stable and happy self, especially since overall this has not been a particularly gangster year for me. I barely ate, slept too much and cancelled all my shifts at work until today (from where I am typing this).

And then idk, I woke up on Monday and inexplicably felt one thousand kilos lighter and with this bizarre certainty that it was finally all over. Whatever cosmic dues I had to pay were squared up. And since then half a year’s worth of my usual luck seemed to happen all at once. So let me tell you some of the things that have happened to kinda get them out there and speak into existence that it is all good again:

* I got back into Pilates with a vengeance — four days in a row — and my body has bounced back incredibly quickly and I don’t hate how I look and feel anymore.

* I saw my physio yesterday and I am almost good as new. He had me jumping from side to side and landing on one leg, doing single leg squats and said he wants me to (tentatively) try jogging in this coming week. I don’t even need the brace anymore, unless I’m power walking a distance that will take me an hour or longer. I am finally wearing heels again.

* I have spent so much meaningful quality time with my closest friends, having really lovely lengthy conversations, eating and drinking, almost feeling like we’re on holiday. I have been generous with my time and money and it feels so nice. I’ve realised in particular the deep love and care Riley has for me, and the lengths he will go to for me. Throughout this tough period he has been by my side, doing everything and asking for nothing.

* I am absolutely frothing my current book, and today I got an email from the library telling me a book I reserved back in March is now available for collection. I work about a 3 minute walk from there and as soon as I am finished, I am going to go pick it up and then buy my groceries and do absolutely fuck all, and that is a wonderful thought.

* My fave receptionist told me I am so well liked and respected here that there is no way I would ever get fired for anything, and if I did she would personally contact the owner to say „what the fuck?”

* My date on Tuesday went wonderfully, and I was awake til 3am because it just went on and on and I didn’t want it to end. Funnily we did not so much as kiss. I also told him I am a sex worker and he was not just accepting but overwhelmingly positive and supportive of it.

* I was bought as a gift my dream plane — the Antonov AN-225 — that I have been desperately longing for for years and years but delayed because it’s an absurd amount to spend on a single item that does fundamentally nothing except look cool. I balked and tried to refuse the offer because it was $900, and my concerns were dismissed to the point I was more or less steamrolled into accepting it, haha.

* When I got the roll of film from NorCal developed I was so pleased with every single shot. And not to sound conceited, but I feel like I look truly beautiful in all of them, which was kinda hard to reconcile with how I feel generally. I don’t think I’m UNattractive, but I didn’t think I looked like *that*. It was a really lovely, affirming, heartening feeling and I am taking that energy forward with more certainty than ever.

* I discovered today, courtesy of a word search I did, that my middle name is a symbol of luck.

* For the third year running I was approached by my property manager over 4 months in advance to renew my lease. My home and my suburb are so deeply important to and cherished by me and the security I feel is so immense. Everything is staying the same, which is exactly how I want it.

There is more I’m sure, but this is what springs to mind, and it’s a lot! My SD sent me a text a few days ago saying that I can sometimes look at the world a bit too much through jaded specs, but that in his opinion I am travelling very well. And I’m starting to agree with him again.

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Some 35mm from the trip ✨

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Gross admission by me but I typically only wash my hair once a week (Wednesday evening, and that lasts me Thursday through Sunday for work), but on a whim I decided to this afternoon and seemed to have manifested my first date since March tomorrow night…how nice.

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I read „1834” (aka „invocation to his genius”) last night and am almost embarrassed with triteness at how much it moved me.

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You're a genuinely beautiful human, inside and out. It's no surprise to me that everyone treats you with kindness, because you yourself are kind and radiate such a warm positive energy

Thank you so much 🩷 I really truly do try to be as nice as I can at all times, and it’s become very very important to me, in the past few years especially, that everybody likes me. That’s possibly unhealthy and I’m sure people out there would disagree with you haha, but it’s one of my top three main motivators in life. When I die I just want to be remembered as someone who was kind and who lived an interesting life.

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On a lighter note, everybody is so kind to me. In real life (all facets — friends, family, clients, coworkers, at Pilates and incidental interactions at shops and etc), when I post on Instagram, when I talk to boys on hinge, and on here. Even when I feel like I don’t deserve it. And I am grateful.

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The first half of this year has truly been an absolute hell of a time for me, and I am hopeful that as of 31/05 it will be over and also terrified that it will not. I’ve always considered myself a lucky person while simultaneously waiting for the other shoe to drop, and let me tell you the shoe has dropped quite dramatically.

I think if I could live the exact same week, week in week out, I would be totally content — Pilates on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, the broth Thursday, Saturday, Sunday and my SD on Friday, breakfast at 6.30, lunch at 12.30, dinner at 5.45 and then bed by 7 and asleep by 9 after a few hours reading. Groceries on one of my days off and then after work on one of the weekend days. Nails and lashes every three weeks, buy vapes every 6 weeks, Botox every three months, home for Christmas and mum visits on school holidays two or three times a year.

That is honestly all I want. A boring, predictable, humdrum life. There are still things I want to do — more travel, write a book, buy an apartment — but all I really want in life is sameness. Someone accused me of being stuck in a rut recently and I realised how unbothered I am by that. The rut is comfortable. The rut is safe. I have had enough excitement since around age 15 than the majority of people would experience if they lived to 100, and I am so fine with that. I could exist alone doing close to nothing for the rest of my life and be happy, I think.

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Some ✨stuff✨

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ok, you look gorgeous as always, but nobody is talking about the matching sandals!!!!!!!!!

Thank you for the compliment and thank you for noticing! They are slightly different colours and patterns, but I figured it would be a fun head-to-toe look seeing as I had them both in my arsenal…plus these are the first matching shoes I’ve worn in weeks and the heel style was modest enough that I wasn’t worried about losing my balance and re-breaking the ankle, haha.

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Thought my SD deserved something extra good today after a very plain makeup-free me on Monday/Tuesday 🐆

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Related to my working for 14 years, today is my one year anniversary of working at the broth and my god I swear this has been some of the quickest 12 months of my life. The passage of time really do be speeding up with every year you get older, plus possibly the time honoured adage — time flies when you’re having fun.

I still have such a clear and vivid memory of my first shift there: I worked a Tuesday, 3-11pm, and sat for almost the whole shift with two other girls and it was totally dead. Uh oh, I remember thinking. I came here to make some quick money and bolster my savings before going to Azerbaijan and Georgia, and if it’s as quiet here as it is at the massage parlour I am going to be quite ✨stressed✨.

Pretty much immediately after I had that thought a guy came in and booked me for three hours. He was from Port Macquarie, visiting his children, and wanted to have a chill time with a girl as his wind down for the night. I went from stressed about it being quiet to panicking about wtf to do exactly for such a length of time. It was a total departure from the massage parlour, where the longest bookings were typically an hour, the intros were super brief (at the broth you sit down and have a proper chat to them, which I also totally fumbled through for a few months), I had my routine, I had my extras and I knew it so well. How do you fill three hours at a brothel? What extras even are there when you’re doing full service and how much do you charge? Ahhhh.

Thankfully he was very gentle and understanding and we filled the time with him having a few drinks, hanging out in the spa and talking, lying on the bed and talking, and very brief sex at the beginning and end. I left with as much as what a good shift at the parlour would be after seeing one client and doing what I thought was basically fuck all. It was a little confounding, and it sort of continued like that. Great money, way less exertion than the parlour. I heard former FS girlies at the parlour talking about routinely making $1000+ a shift just chatting to their clients and I remember thinking ha, sure. But then I realised…oh…actually…they’re telling the truth lol.

Gradually I pieced together my own „routine”, which shifts worked best for me, my extras, how to flesh out long bookings, which were more common than not, how to crush an intro. Earlier in the piece I remember kind of agonising to my fave receptionist that I felt like I didn’t „fit in” there, that I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, that I should be doing better. She had also worked a long time ago and said she understood completely, that my ~style~ — sweet, quirky, approachable girl next door — was very much hers too, and that it would come with time. And she was right! It has become known that that’s my niche and that I’m incredibly good at it and my clients are very much MY clients. Not that I’d give a fuck if any of my regs saw anyone else, but if I’m their type then their choice is basically…me, haha. The more I perfected that, the more I saw myself blooming there, and I realised I didn’t have a need for the parlour anymore. Actually I hadn’t worked there since before I did go to Azerbaijan and Georgia, but the official full stop was cleaning out my locker in December — a deadline I gave myself — and it felt right. I was (and am) in a different stage.

It still took a while to grapple with everything — it’s more of a nighttime place, a party place, and the night girls can be incredibly intense when I walk in at 6.30am — but I have now come to love the kind of Fawlty Towers style vibe the early morning shifts bring, hitting the ground running and just not stopping until my shift is over, being around the cast of characters there. The culture is outstandingly good and management and reception treats us incredibly well. I have talked more, socialised more and made more genuinely good friends in a year than I did in almost 11 at the parlour. It’s still kind of surprising when girls exclaim with happy surprise crossing paths with me and when I am complimented on my work ethic, my success, the energy I bring, to know that people are talking positively about me behind my back, and I love everybody there equally as much. Yesterday morning my SD was sitting doing the puzzles in the newspaper and I was over on the other couch texting my work bestie for a couple of hours about just everything, something I don’t think I have had before anywhere else I’ve worked. And then I get to spend 8 hours with her tomorrow in person doing the exact same thing, and I realise I actually can’t wait.

Idk if anybody has really picked up on it, but I haven’t talked about private work in a while because I just haven’t had a need for it since I’ve been there. And it is so nice to keep work work and home home, get in and do it and enjoy a peaceful and personal space once I’m back in my apartment. Plus now I actually love the social aspect of work I am genuinely excited to go and be around people and soak up that environment. The broth is walking distance from home, and when I set off on foot at 6.15am and walk through the pre-sunrise sleepy little suburbs, I repeat a mantra to myself: „today I will make [amount] and have fun while doing it…or something better.” And it’s always something better, and it only continues to get better, and I am so incredibly grateful that I found myself there.

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Idk what RPA sexual health is thinking with the slimfit:regular size condom ratio they put in their SWer packs (significantly more small than reg) coz I will tell you something for nothing — based on observation over my 17 years of being sexually active and 14 years of working, there really aren’t that many genuinely small size dicks out there.

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One last ankle related update coz the boot comes off on Monday next week and aside from physio I can be done with the whole fkn thing and put it behind me — the radiologist reports from my imaging came back yesterday morning before we headed off, and although I KNEW it would be a bad idea to read…I still read.

I saw „abnormal vascularity” „large complex joint effusion” and „obliteration of anterior and posterior joint recesses”, again acted against my best interest and googled. Turns out I also had internal bleeding lmao and that’s why it looked so profoundly fucked up. Possibly it should have been aspirated but it’s fine now so whatever. Really committed to it huh? Anyway. I don’t think I’ll ever appreciate wearing matching shoes more than I do right now.

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I took almost no pics coz I was very ~present~ but I just spent a very lovely, very successful overnight with my SD in the mountains. Home now, loafed up on da couch and in talks about doing it again in August ⛰️

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Some bits n pieces ft. @sensiblebisexual 🎊