There's an article today on the homepage of MSN.com. It's about Pat Tillman, a former NFL safety who turned down a 3.6 million dollar contract with the Arizona Cardinals to join the Army. His courage is tremendous, and his willingness to forgo millions of dollars to serve his country is particularly notable in our society where salary is often valued much more highly than personal convictions or patriotism of any sort. He is now fighting in Iraq with the 75th Army Ranger Regiment.
Every member of the Allied troops is a hero. Each one of them is risking life and limb and deserves our admiration and gratitude. Those who have died have lost their lives in the most honorable way possible. Even though I've been somewhat conflicted about the war since its onset, I have the utmost respect for the Allied troops who are there.
People in the US often call professional athletes role models. Ideally, parents should be the ultimate role models, but there's no question that athletes often have a huge impact on the minds of many Americans. Pat Tillman is providing a tremendous example of personal fortitude for all who know his story.

Good afternoon! I hope everyone had a great Holiday. There is a new video clip in the Playhouse as of a few hours ago. It was shot by a good photographer friend of mine. He and I will be at an upcoming convention together so please check the Playhouse bulletin board for details. It should be a lot of fun and I'm really looking forward to it!
This week I'll be shooting some custom videos, and possibly doing some trampling videos as well. I'm also planning to work with my good friend Mary Carey (www.marycarey.com) on Saturday. I'm sure that some of that footage will show up in the Playhouse! Keep checking the bulletin board as I'll provide all details there. XXOO Tanya

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Good evening. Just a quick note to remind all members that the newest video clip is now up in the members' area. As I mentioned on the bulletin board, we are now updating twice a week: new video clips on Monday, and new photosets on Friday. I will tell you all the background and details about the latest video clip tomorrow!! Today I worked all day doing a magazine layout with Mary Carey (whew!!) We had a great time as usual, but she wore me out and I'm going to bed. Be sure to check out the photoset with her and me that's already in the Playhouse. There will be more to come.... Mary and I are good friends, (very good friends!) Tomorrow morning I'll be working with Hollywood (Jeanne) of www.webkitten.com, and tomorrow afternoon I'll be doing a spanking video with another model- I'll reveal her identity in my next post. As soon as I get home I'll be on the computer to fill you in on all the details. Be sure to check the bulletin board-:) Bye for now- XXOO Tanya

Hello! I hope all of you members are enjoying the
latest "superheroine" update with me at the mercy of
Shelly the Burbank Bomber. The photos were taken
during a recent custom video shoot that I did. If you
wish to see more of Shelly, she can be found at
www.burbankbomber.com. She is even available for
one-on-one wrestling matches, and she is STRONG and
TOUGH. Believe me. I'm not kidding. I wrote all about
the shoot on the members' bulletin board so be sure to
check that out. Maybe I'll start working on my
wrestling moves in case Shelly and I meet again....
Just kidding- that would require far too much effort
and discipline on my part. Besides, I could train for
the next few years and she would still kick my butt.
In addition to her take-no-prisoners athleticism,
Shelly is a very nice person and was a blast to work
with. Even when she forced me to suck on her strap-on
dildo and poured burning-hot candle wax on me.

Last week I wrote that I was on the cover of the June
Leg World, but I'm not. (Should have checked before I
said that!)I do, however, have a photo layout and
interview in that issue. I'm also in some photos in
the Spring 2003 issue of Gene Simmon's Tongue
Magazine. It's an article about Jeanne "Hollywood"
Basone and her wrestling company www.webkitten.com.
I'm actually going to be working for her again next
week. Like Shelly, Jeanne also does one-on-one
wrestling matches. So if you want to wrestle a
former Playboy model, or want to watch her wrestle,
Jeanne can be reached through her website. There are
some photos of her and me in a catfight in my members'
area as well.
Also this month I'm in the German GQ STYLE. I haven't
seen it, but I'm in a photo spread with well-known
male model Tony Ward and Sin City contract girl
Karina. It's one of only two magazine shoots I have
ever done with a male model. I think that issue may
only be available in Europe.

This weekend I am going to an "artwalk" at an
artists' colony in downtown LA. Although I enjoy
looking at various types of art, I am still very much
of a philistine. I'm not saying that with pride
either. I've viewed many works by highly acclaimed
artists, and have often found that I don't see why
they have received so many accolades. Please don't
think that I am criticizing their creativity or effort
because I'm not. Perhaps there is something missing
within me or maybe I am simply not educated enough to
appreciate what makes their work special. I'm not
really sure.
Before I dropped out of college the first time I was
a history/art history major at UCLA. I have always
found art history very interesting. A great deal is
revealed about any culture through the artwork that it
produces. From a historical perspective it is
fascinating. At some point in my studies I took what
was basically the equivalent of an art appreciation
course. Everyone in the class had to attend a certain
gallery exhibit. One of the paintings at the exhibit
had won a "best in show" award or some such thing. It
was a canvas covered in solid, flat black. There were
no brush strokes or anything to break up the
monochrommatic blackness. It was interesting, but as I
gazed at it I couldn't help but think: "Wait, I could
have done that." For that matter, the average
5-year-old could have created it too. Of course,
something that is rendered simply can be very
compelling, but I just
couldn't see what made this work the "best in show."
Two women were standing near me in the gallery and
commenting on the painting. They spoke of it in
glowing terms. I can't quite remember what they were
saying, but it struck me as very pretentious and
stupid at the time. It seemed to me that they wanted
to praise it because someone else had called it
exemplary. Then again, maybe they just had a great
deal more insight than I. I'm not being sarcastic, I
just really don't know.
A few years ago I saw a segment of Howard Stern's TV
show. He was laughing at one of his people,
(Robin), because she had just paid a large sum of
money for a painting by Jackson Pollock. Howard bet
her that she would not be able to distinguish one of
his own
self-created masterpieces from four of Jackson
Pollock's works if he placed them all next to each
other. During the show Howard was seen throwing
various colors of paint on a canvas and laughing. I
think he used his fingers and a paintbrush to create
some shapes and squiggles with the paint. It took
about 10 minutes for him to finish. At the end
of the show Robin could not identify which one
of the five paintings Howard had created. That was
after she had already paid a lot of lip service to the
unique power of Pollock's work.
That show was hilarious not because it mocked
Pollock's creativity, but because it made a really
good point. Appreciation of art is extremely
subjective. Not everybody likes the same stuff.
Amusingly though, many people will collect certain
pieces simply because someone else told them that
those pieces had artistic merit. I've always been of
the mindset that art is whatever inspires you
personally. If four dogs playing poker has meaning for
you, then you should hang one of those pictures on
your wall. Same with the Velvet Elvises.
Speaking of Velvet Elvises, there was a great article in the Los Angeles Times about the whole genre by Annie Groer. It was published last August, but you can still find it at www.latimes.com if you do a search in their archives. Type in "velvet Elvis." In the article the director of the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore, MD discusses the "baroque pathos" of the velvet Elvis renderings. This same gentleman used to teach a course at Johns Hopkins University called "Holy through the Ages. Early Christian Saints through Elvis." He compares some of the velvet Elvises to Caravaggio's 16th and 17th century paintings of saints. The article is very funny and well worth reading. It also delighted me beyond reason. I never thought my artistic tastes would be validated by a professor at Johns Hopkins.
I don't actually own any velvet Elvises, but I do feel some strange kinship with anyone who would hang a velvet Elvis on his wall. I know what it is to derive great pleasure from something that most of the world scorns.
The art walk tomorrow should be interesting. Maybe it will broaden my horizons. Supposedly the event attracts a huge number of people so it will also be fun to see other people's reactions to the work displayed. I hope all of you have a good weekend too!

Good evening! This week's new update is in the members' section. It is more explicit than usual. I hope you all like it! Also, for all members: I have been posting more stuff on the bulletin board in the Playhouse. I'm not sure how many of you go there now, so I wanted to make sure you checked it once in a while.
Recently I've received a few e-mails asking what videos and magazines I'm in right now. Jim Holliday's video "Sorority Sex Kittens #6" has just been released by VCA. I am in a hot scene with the VERY, VERY sexy and beautiful Monica Mayhem. We shot it out in the desert near California City, and the temperature must have been over 100 degrees. Although I have not seen it yet I'm also on the cover of the June 2003 Hustler's "Leg World." I was wearing a gorgeous pair of silky, sheer Cuban-heel stockings for all you hosiery lovers. Ladi, the photographer who shot it, is one of my favorite people to work with. Next week he'll be shooting me again for a two-girl layout with Mary Carey, (www.marycarey.com), another person I LOVE to be paired up with. She and I have done sex scenes for High Society, Rain Productions, and Big Top. It should be a really, really fun day and I'm looking forward to it. And, believe me, I don't gush about people I don't like. I don't even pretend.
That brings to mind a conversation I had yesterday. I was shooting with Jim Martin for his site, www.bondagebyrequest.com, and we were discussing other photographers that we both know. I was speaking freely about some bad experiences at shoots, and about some photographers that I can't stand. He and I agreed that one photographer was particularly heinous, and he mentioned that he'd said the same thing to another model. She despised the same man, but cautioned Jim that he should keep his opinions to himself around other people in the business.
A lot of people seem to have the same sentiment that she does. I, on the other hand, defame people with abandon. Wild abandon. If I work with someone and they behave inappropriately during the shoot, three things will happen: 1. I'll pack up my stuff to go. 2. They will pay me for the day. The District Attorney and the Labor Board will be on my side if they don't. 3. I am going to tell EVERYONE what they did.
There's a wide degree of latitude in regards to what is acceptable on an adult set. Off-color jokes and sexual innuendoes are commonplace and rarely upset anyone. There are some photgraphers, though, who go beyond the normal joking banter. They should not be putting their hands on the models, asking for lap dances in the middle of the shoot, or pulling out their private parts when no one asked them to. Not surprisingly, it's the same guys who pull the same stunts over and over. It annoys me that quite often there's a cloak of secrecy that semi-protects them. The models are afraid to say anything. If they do, they often preface their statement with: "Don't tell anyone that I was the one who told you this, but...." Sometimes it's as if they feel that they did something wrong. Maybe the photographer got way too handsy and the model was afraid to stand up to him. Things went way farther than she wanted, she left feeling terrible about herself, and then didn't want to tell anyone about the incident. Granted, it is the model's responsibility to demand respectful treatment, but a lot of these photographers are good at preying on vulnerable young women. They have tons of experience at being lecherous perverts and have honed their manipulative techniques for years longer than some of the models have even been alive.
I feel it is my duty to spread the word about those idiots. It's not just gossip-mongering, it's a strike back at those weasels. There's nothing that I say about them to other people that I wouldn't say right to their faces. I probably already have. It's good to have the opportunity to warn other women about who they need to watch out for.
One more thing: these guys never behave badly just once. If they did it to me, they have definitely done it on other occasions.
It's not just in the modelling world that this happens either. People often remain silent to protect others that they know are slime. Maybe they are afraid of repercussions. They shouln't be. In the end, the truth has power.

Hello! I hope everyone is doing well tonight. My thoughts are with the American, British, and Australian soldiers fighting in the Middle East right now, and of course my prayers are with them also. I didn't really know what I felt like writing about for my weekly journal entry tonight, but the following came out of me for some reason. Best wishes to everyone, wherever you may live, as we continue through a tough political time right now. XXXOOO


Recently two makeup artists were talking. One mentioned that she was disappointed that her boyfriend was not taking steps to clean up his credit history. Years ago he had accrued some credit card debt and neglected to pay it off. The other makeup artist said, "Well, why are you still with him if he is not serious about his money?" The first woman responded that she and her boyfriend had a child together, he was a wonderful father, and she and he had a lot of fun as a couple. Also, her boyfriend worked really hard at his job, but it was difficult for him to put extra money towards his debt because he worked in a relatively low-paying field. The second makeup artist looked at her with disgust and said: "He sounds like a complete LOSER!"

Loser? Wow, what a scary take on the situation. Good father, fun partner, hardworking, and he's a loser? Granted, credit card debt is not a good thing, but it's at least an understandable fact of life for someone in his twenties. The boyfriend in question was in his twenties.

I happened to overhear this conversation when I was at a photo shoot. The makeup artist with the boyfriend was doing my makeup. It was appalling to listen to the insulting remark from the other woman even though I hear sentiments like that all the time. I've heard them all my life.

When I was young I lived in a wealthy section of the San Francisco Bay Area. There was a street called Alameda de las Pulgas which ran along the edge of my immediate neighborhood. Some kids from my school lived on that street. I remember my mother referring to their homes as "the shacks on the Alameda." That seems beyond ridiculous now given my perspective as an adult. The houses on the Alameda were nice homes even then. I wasn't able to understand that as a kid because I had never even seen a bad neighborhood.

A few years ago I was active in a dog rescue group. I was speaking on the phone to one of the group's organizers and she and I were having a spirited conversation and getting along famously. She mentioned what a great judge of character her own dog was. Her dog was really warm to her owner's friends when they came to visit, but she would snarl at repairmen if they entered the house. The woman was quite proud that her dog could differentiate between acceptable guests and "plumber-type people," as she called them. I smiled to myself wondering what she would think if she knew what I did for a living. It had never come up before. In her estimation I would probably have rated much lower than a "plumber-type person." I can't even fix a toilet.

I've thought about her comment a lot since then. Somehow "Plumber-Type Person" became an actual entity in my head. She should be a superheroine. In many bondage and wrestling/catfighting shoots I have played the role of a superheroine. The superheroines often have names that are close to, but don't infringe upon, copyrighted names such as Wonder Woman, Batgirl, etc. Plumber-Type Person would be in a whole different league. I envision her driving around by herself in a van like the A-Team had. She has her hair in a ponytail and wears Levi's,work boots, and a white wife-beater tank top. Of course she has a tight, hard little body and big boobs because all superheroines do. She arrives at people's homes, toolbox in hand, ready to fix the plumbing. Most days are ordinary ones and she fixes the plumbing. Every once in a while, though, she becomes embroiled in a dramatic scenario where her true powers are desperately needed. Unlike regular superheroines she doesn't save lives or rescue entire cities or planets that are in peril. Plumber-Type Person specializes in pulling people's heads out of their assholes so they can start figuring out what's truly important in life.

I've known many people who could use her services. Maybe it all seems so clear to me because I've experienced a lot of different gradations on the wealth spectrum. Many people I grew up around had a lot of money. The ones who derided financially poorer individuals most loudly and most often did so because they had such deep unhappiness within themselves. They had a rancorous need to make others feel bad too. Our culture promotes the acquisition of material possessions and money as the keys to happiness. They aren't. I've known way too many miserable rich people to believe that.

As an adult I've had times when I didn't even know how I could pay the next round of bills. I know that feeling of lying in bed, unable to sleep, scared to death that I was going to lose what little I had. At those moments money seemed like everything, but in my heart I knew better. Now I enjoy working and trying to "get ahead," but I never judge anyone by their financial status. Similarly, I've never sneered at anyone who works an honest job. Maybe those who do would be better served by trying to figure out the source of their own hatefulness instead.

Hello. I was on www.msn.com earlier looking at photos of the war coverage. They are very, very gripping and powerful. Although I'm somewhat conflicted about the US policy that has sent our troops to the Middle East, I am so proud of and so grateful to the men and women of the US military who are there fighting for our country. Needless to say, my sentiments extend to the troops from the UK and Australia who are right there fighting with us.
Yesterday when I drove to work I was listening to news coverage of anti-war rallies. It brought up a bunch of mixed feelings in me. In the Saturday, March 21 edition of the Los Angeles Times there were photos of anti-war demonstrators in San Francisco who were wearing masks and concealing their faces. That really disgusted me. Of course they are entitled to express their opinions, but why do they hide their identities if they mean what they are saying? Are they afraid of getting hurt, going to jail, or suffering consequences at their jobs? We have soldiers risking their lives and dying for our country right now, and these morons in San Francisco are scared to stand behind their words and actions in their own homeland.
Granted, much of what makes the US great is due to our constitutionally protected rights of freedom of speech and freedom of expression, but some of these anti-war demonstrators have really touched a nerve with me. Maybe some of my emotions are irrational, but I feel that now is the time to support our troops in any way possible. We're already at war and I think all Americans should show respect for our military and our Commander-in-Chief by not wreaking needless havoc in the streets of our cities. Quiet, peaceful demonstrations can get the point across. The people kicking cars, disrupting traffic, damaging property, and taxing our police forces are not accomplishing anything worthwhile.
There was a rally in Columbus, Ohio on Friday in which people gathered to donate toothpaste, shaving cream, and other supplies for our soldiers. Those are the type of people who make me proud to be an American.

Hi there. Usually I try to post something new each Friday, but today was a day of tremendous upheaval, (both in the world and my own little life), and I just wasn't up to it. There are, however, new photos and video in the member's area so please enjoy!! I'm going to bed tonight with prayers for the soldiers fighting in the Middle East right now. I'll be back online tomorrow with renewed spirits and vigor. Good night and best wishes to all!!

Hello! Thanks again to everybody who has joined the new members' area. I appreciate the feedback I have received from many of you regarding what kind of content you would like to see. The constructive criticism has also been very helpful as I'm trying to make the site the best that it can be.

***Note to members: The member's bulletin board is open and active. Please feel free to post any messages!***


A few days ago I read a short article in the "Health" section of the March 17 issue of Time Magazine. It's called "Perils of Enhancement: Do Implants Trigger Suicide?", and it's about a study of Swedish breast implant recipients that was published in the British Medical Journal. The authors' research showed that women who have received breast implants for cosmetic reasons are three times more likely to commit suicide than women who do not have breast implants. Their results support the conclusions of previous studies that found a correlation between certain types of psychiatric disorders and the desire to undergo cosmetic security.

There's no doubt that many people have cosmetic surgery because of their insecurities. Insecurity, of course, is not a psychiatric disorder. Taken to an extreme level, though, it could be. I don't know what psychiatric conditions the authors were referring to, but the little synopsis of the study in Time got me thinking about my breast implants and the comments people make about them.

People have accused me of "selling out," of being a slave to my own insecurity, or of being compulsively in need of attention. I've been asked: "Why do you want to look like a sex toy?" At moments in the past I've even become a little defensive when people questioned me about my breasts. Here and there I found myself toying with the thought of having them reduced in size.

Whenever I reached that point, though, I'd become disgusted with myself. Why should I even contemplate taking out my breast implants just to placate other people? I LIKE big breasts. I always have. It would have been great if I had developed them naturally, but I didn't.

I was 20 years old when I had the surgery done. In retrospect that seems young, but I had already been stripping for two years. When I first started dancing I swore that I would never get implants. To me, back then, getting a cosmetic procedure seemed akin to admitting that something was "wrong" with my body, that I didn't have enough confidence in myself. A number of girls I knew got breast implants. Gradually, the thought of surgery did not seem like THAT big a deal to me. It no longer made me think that any of these women were compromising themselves. They wanted bigger breasts so they went out and bought a pair of them. They were still the same people- now they just had big racks. For the most part they were all happy with them.

I started wondering what battle I was fighting with my resolve to stay "natural." Big boobs had always turned me on. I admired them on other women. "She's so lucky," I would think. Well, with the help of modern technology I could be lucky too. Let me say here that I've always found lots of different types of women attractive. They certainly don't have to have big boobs to be beautiful or very appealing to me, but for some reason a large set of melons always does stir something within me. Who knows why- it just is what it is. I could sit here and toss out hundreds and hundreds of euphemisms for breasts, and become vaguely aroused just by saying them. Hooters, titties, milkhorns, funbags, breasteses, udders, cans, lungs, pillows, cockwarmers, chesticles, on and on.

Anyhow, my aversion to plastic surgery started to seem silly. I wasn't insecure because I wanted big breasts- I just wanted big breasts. I'll admit, though, that as a stripper I had a financial incentive as well.

Two weeks after the surgery I returned to work. All the girls checked out my new boobs and squeezed them backstage, (wow, this was great!), and I hit the dance floor, ready to make double or triple the money I had made previously. That didn't happen. Over the course of the next few months my money stayed the same as it always had. Interesting. There was no financial boon. In a way, I wasn't disappointed at all. It sort of reconfirmed what I had suspected all along. Confidence comes from within. The customers in the clubs respond to your level of self-confidence. Go into most clubs and look at the dancers. They are all different shapes and sizes, and there really is no commmon denominator in regards to who makes the most money and who gets the most attention. Sure, some men are obsessed with large breasts, but most just seem to like breasts in general, regardless of size.

I imagine breasts might seem like a novelty to men. Often I think of dicks and testicles and wonder what it would be like to have those on my body and be able to play with them all day. How would that feel, all that constant access? It fascinates me. I think each gender is somewhat fixated on the differences between their bodies. Particularly since society tells us that we're supposed to keep them covered up all the time. It seems natural to me that men like to ogle women. (Although they should know when it is or is not appropriate to do so. Women are not always "on stage." Go to a strip club or watch a porno if you want to stare unabashedly. At the very least, just be sly about it if you are checking someone out in public.)

At any rate, breast implants always seem to elicit a surprising amount of commentary. Many women lie about having them. They are entitled to do so, but I've never really understood why they do. Do they lie about having had braces on their teeth too? Do they try to pretend that they are not wearing makeup when they are? Why do they bother? Sometimes people look at my breasts and ask: "Are those real?" Yes, they are really mine. They are really part of my body. I really paid for them. I've never troubled myself to try and pretend that they were not implants. Who would I be fooling anyways? There aren't too many 115 lb. women around wth natural DD-size titties.

Although I have become very nonchalant about my breasts, I was not careless or cursory about having the procedure done. It is surgery, and it does behoove anybody who wants it to research surgeons and options very thoroughly. No one should ever bargain-shop or impulse-buy when it comes to surgery. Amazingly, I've seen numerous people do both because "Dr. So-and-So offers financing."

The study mentioned in Time is interesting because there is no doubt that sometimes people have cosmetic surgery for unhealthy reasons. Maybe they think it will change their lives or give them self-esteem. It won't. There are plenty of people, though, that just want to do a little improving on what Mother Nature gave them.

It's a beautiful morning here. Right now it's about 8 AM and the sun is streaming through the window and the sky is a bright blue. One of my cats is sitting with me as I drink coffee and type 5 words-per-minute.
Some people cringe if you mention cats. They roll their eyes and quit listening to what you're saying. I used to be like that. I was raised with dogs, very large dogs at that, and could never understand who would want a cat. Years ago one of my friends bought two cats for $300 each. I was incredulous. "You PAID for a cat?" , I asked in disbelief. What a joke! She was bringing creatures into her home whose sole duties in life were just to ignore her and eat the food she provided.

Months later I kept seeing a small white cat in my backyard. She (or was it a he?) was so skinny, and kept looking at me with these huge soulful eyes. Finally I started putting out food for it which it would eat greedily if I was standing there. If I left, it would dart away and other neighborhood cats would eat the food later. I noticed that she (he?) never hung out with the other cats. She, (I finally decided for no good reason that she WAS a she), always seemed so happy to see me when I came outside. She would rub up on stuff in the yard and try to preen. She was pressing up on my car one day and got a huge black streak of grease on her white coat. It remained there for days.

Clearly she did not belong to anyone. And finally I realized that she was declawed. That's why she wouldn't go near the other cats. That's why she was so skinny: she had trouble foraging for food. In spite of my lifelong contempt for cats I felt a connection to her. She moved in with me in 1994 on the day I realized that she was declawed. A veterinarian confirmed that she was female and I named her Amanda.
On my birthday in 1999 my friend Brian gave me a sculpture of a cat draped in robes sitting in the cross-legged style of the Buddha. His hands are folded and he has a serene, peaceful expression on his face. I LOVED my new statue and had to admit that I was a full-fledged "cat person." Cat Buddha is sitting here on my desk as I write this.
This morning Amanda is not here. Yesterday I took her to the vet because she seemed so listless and had dropped a considerable amount of weight in the past few days. Usually she fights a healthy battle to prevent me from getting her in her carrier. Yesterday she did not even attempt much of a struggle. In the car there were no highly indignant meows. Her vet became concerned instantly when she saw Amanda's glazed look and lethargic demeanor. Amanda was taken from me to be hooked up to an IV. She managed a feeble growl at the assistant who was picking her up as I kissed her goodbye on the head.
I cried as I drove to work, but resolved to think positive thoughts. Shortly before 6PM last night the vet told me that Amanda had eaten something toxic. She would recover at the hospital overnight and I would probably be able to take her home tomorrow, (which is now today!)
What a relief!!!! Today is a beautiful morning. Larry, Amanda's boyfriend, and I can't wait to bring her home again. Larry is a twelfth-or-so-generation street cat who barely cheated death himself in 2000.
I'm sure anyone who does not like cats stopped reading this long ago. Let me recommend a great book to anyone who is still reading, though, because you probably share my cat sentiments. It is "Where Cats Meditate" by David Baird. I found it at Barnes and Noble on Valentine's Day, and it is a collection of photographs and quotations. If you find it I hope you get as much joy from it as I have.

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Hello- I am excited to tell you that, as of today, the member's area of the site is now open!!!!! After much work it is fully operational. Just click on "JOIN TANYA'S PLAYHOUSE!"
One thing though: the billing platform is not yet equipped to accommodate Mac users. If you are on a Mac computer the billing system will not work for you- you can't join yet using a Mac. You can view the entire site from a Mac once you've joined, but our billing company can't process sign-up information from a Mac. We did not realize this until yesterday and we're working on a solution. Sorry about this! Ironically, I have an iMac myself.
Thanks so much to all of you who have returned to this site year after year, (even back when it never used to change!) I really hope you all enjoy the new member's section. Please let me know what types of things you'd like to see in there- I'm open to all requests!!

Hi again! I have received numerous e-mails about my post on 2/16. Many thanks to all of you who took the time to write. It appears that many of my former opinions were very naive, but it still was interesting to have them refuted by so many people who made some very good points. Almost no one thought the war was about oil. Most stated their belief that Saddam Hussein is a dangerous despot who has repeatedly thumbed his nose at the UN and needs to be removed from power before he starts using weapons of mass destruction. A number of people also supplied documentation showing that the US does NOT import most of our oil from the Mideast. One of the best e-mails came from my website designer. She referred me to www.snopes2.com. If you go to that site and type in "gas stations" in the search engine you will end up on a page with related articles. Scroll down the entries and you will find a succinct but detailed rebuttal to the "Gasoline Solution" e-mail I posted in my last entry. I had to smile ruefully when I read it because it so THOROUGHLY decimated the significance of that e-mail. I'm smiling again right now. Even my cat is shaking his head. He likes to read over my shoulder.
I'm still not a war supporter, but I do see that there are many more angles to this issue than I took into account. At the same time I'm not an avowed peace advocate either. One of the reasons we in the US can express our opinions and criticize the government is because the men and women in our military have been willing to fight to preserve our right to do so.

Hello- I received the following e-mail last night and found it interesting. Of course I'm no political expert but it seems clear that we are on the brink of war with Iraq so we can either claim or have some degree of control over the oil reserves in that country and those surrounding it. As the gasoline prices continue to rise it does also seem as if our government is jacking them up purposely to financially pressure the American people into supporting the war efforts. As we all know, Bush claims the thrust of the war effort is to disarm Iraq, but who believes that's his real motive? Let me repeat, though, that I don't pretend to have the last word on current events so maybe the US/Iraq war issue has more angles than I'm seeing. (But if our government IS so concerned about weapons of warfare why aren't we declaring war on North Korea?)
All that aside, the e-mail below doesn't refer at all to the potential war but it does list a number of gasoline companies who do not import Middle Eastern oil. That surprised me because I thought our gasoline companies were all dependent on Middle Eastern oil. Is it possible that we really don't even NEED their oil? I don't know the answer. At any rate, maybe I'll retire my Chevron card and start gassing up at Citgo, Sunoco, or some of the others listed. I don't think we should go to war in the Middle East, but there's a huge amount of anti-American sentiment in that region so why should we help support their countries' economies? If anyone sees a flaw in my rationale, please e-mail me. Seriously, please do. The points made below seem valid to me, but I could be missing something.


>Date: Sun, 16 Feb 2003 11:55:16 -0500
>
>GASOLINE SOLUTION!
>
>We CAN buy gasoline that's not from the Middle East. Why didn't
>George W. think of this? Gas rationing in the 80's worked even though
>we grumbled about it. It might even be good for us!
>
>The Saudis are boycotting American goods. We should return the
>favor. An interesting thought is to boycott their GAS. Every time you
>fill up the car, you can avoid putting more money into the coffers of
>Saudi Arabia.
>
>Just buy from gas companies that don't import their oil from the
>Saudis. Nothing is more frustrating than the feeling that every time I
>fill-up the tank, I am sending my money to people who are trying to
kill
>
>me, my family, and my friends. I thought it might be interesting for
you
>
>to know which oil companies are the best to buy
>gas from.
>
>Which major companies import Middle Eastern oil (for the period
>9/1/00 -8/31/01)
>
>Shell............................205,742,000 barrels
>Chevron/Texaco.........144,332,000 barrels
>Exxon /Mobil................130,082,000 barrels
>Marathon/Speedway...117,740,000 barrels
>Amoco.........................62,231,000 barrels
>
>If you do the math at $30/barrel, these imports amount to over $18
>BILLION!
>
>Here are some large companies that do not import Middle Eastern oil:
>Citgo....................0 barrels
>Sunoco............. . 0 barrels
>Conoco............. ..0 barrels
>Sinclair............... 0 barrels
>BP/Phillips.......... 0 barrels
>Hess...................0 barrels
>
>All of this information is available from the Department of Energy and
>each is required to state where they get their oil and how much they
>are importing. They report on a monthly basis. Keep this list in your
>car; share it with friends. Stop paying for terrorism.............
>
>But to have an impact, we need to reach literally millions of gas
>buyers. It's really simple to do!! Now, don't wimp out at this
>point...keep reading and I'll explain how simple it is to reach
millions
>of
>people!!
>
>I'm sending this note to about thirty people. If each of you send it
to
>at
>least ten more (30 x 10 = 300)... and those 300 send it to at least
ten
>more (300 x 10=3,000) and so on, by the time the message reaches
>the sixth generation of people, we will have reached over THREE
>MILLION consumers! If those three million get excited and pass this
>on to ten friends each, then 30 million people will have been
contacted!
>
>If it goes one level further, you guessed it...... THREE HUNDRED
>MILLION PEOPLE!!!
>
>Again, all you have to do is send this to 10 people. How much would
>all that take? If each of us sends this e-mail out to ten more people
>within one day all 300 MILLION people could conceivably be contacted

With Valentine's Day only a week or so away it is impossible to ignore the obligatory, obnoxious advertising that appears each year around this time. There's one billboard pushing diamonds that seems to be everywhere. The text reads: "She knows how much you love her. Now show the rest of the world." How sad.
Men shouldn't be pressured into buying expensive gifts for their wives and girlfriends to "prove" their love. It's pathetic that our culture has produced so many women who genuinely feel it's their due to receive material tokens of affection. Were they influenced by the advertising, or does the advertising just reflect the ethos of our society? I suspect it's the latter. It's a carryover from the days when women were expected to stay at home and be taken care of financially by men.
Today a surprising number of women have a strange, self-indulgent sense of entitlement when it comes to the dynamics of romantic involvement. They evaluate a prospective suitor on the basis of his material possessions and finances, expect the man to pay for all meals and entertainment when they are on a date, and then want their "love" to be rewarded with lavish presents periodically if they are in a commited relationship. This is particularly odd because women have equal opportunity in almost all education and career options in the United States. Women have demanded and earned the right to earn equal pay in this country so they should not be expecting men to literally buy their affection when they are dating or are in a relationship.
Certainly some couples mutually desire a relationship where the man is the financial provider and that is their prerogative. There is, however, a lot of inappropriate pressure placed on most men to provide monetarily for the women in their lives, even women they don't know that well. Women should be paying half the dating expenses. Even more importantly, maybe they should be viewing their boyfriends and husbands as emotional and spiritual partners rather than as meal tickets.
All the advertising I see and all the sentiments I hear many women expressing around Valentine's Day reaffirm my opinions within me each year. The ads attempt to remind men it's their duty to ply their women with flowers, jewelry, vacations, etc., and the women state openly what treatment they expect from their men on February 14. It's really sickening.
Sometimes I ponder why so many men have such anger at women in general. It seems that the money issue may be a huge factor. If I were a man it would piss me off too. More women need to step up to the plate and take care of themselves. We don't deserve to "be treated like princesses" as I often hear. We all have the means and opportunity to provide for ourselves financially, and men should not be expected to carry an unfair share of the burden unless they want to.

P.S. I don't hate Valentine's day. Sure, it's all a crass marketing ploy on the part of the retail industry, but it still can be a nice opportunity to give a loved one a special present. A poem, a flower, a card, or any gift from the heart is always wonderful. It just saddens me when I hear so many people who believe love should be expressed in a monetary or material fashion.

This past Christmas I took a trip down memory lane. My present to myself this year was a book that I had been coveting for many years. It has been out of print for decades and is fairly obscure. Here and there I would hunt for it at bookstores and never find it. Several years ago I continued my search on the Internet. Copies of it were surfacing on ebay and sites of other used booksellers with some regularity. It was amazing how high the asking prices were. Years passed and I still didn't buy it.
I've scored numerous other books on the Internet and usually my "treasures" cost me less than $15 including shipping and handling. Often less than $10 if I'm shopping on ebay. Usually they are books that have touched me somehow in the past when I read them in paperback, so I buy them in hardbound editions since I plan on keeping them forever.
Anyways, this one particular book, a biography, bedeviled me for years since it was so expensive. Did I really want it that badly?- I would ask myself. After all, it did cost more than my car payment.
Several days before Christmas it showed up on ebay yet again. This time I bought it. Below are the e-mails I exchanged with the seller after my winning bid.

The seller wrote:
> I sent an invoice through ebay 417.00 shipping and
> insurance included. I will ship within 24 hours of
> receiving payment. I do have one question if you
> don't mind. I bought this book from Walton's book
> store in Independence, MO. when it was new. I've
> ridden Harley's my whole life and am interested in
> story's and related items. Somehow this book seemed
> to stay with me through the years. I been trying to
> thin out allot of years of accumulation. I sell a
> little bit on ebay not allot and that is why I
> normally start my auctions at around 10 dollars.
> It's not worth it to me to box and ship one item for
> a couple of dollars. This has blown me away. I
> figured someone would buy it just to read. I had no
> ideal it would bring this much. Are you able to tell me why all the interest in this book? Thanks. (name withheld)

Date: Sun, 22 Dec 2002 22:15:53 -0800 (PST)
From: "tanya danielle"  | This is Spam | Add to Address Book
Subject: Re: A WAYWARD ANGEL. Item 2900510265
To: (name withheld)


Hi (name withheld)! My interest in this book is kind of odd. I
grew up in a conservative town in Northern California.
My older half-brother was always considered a
troublemaker and began hanging out with some (name of members of a motorcycle club) as a teenager. My mother told me that they were
all the scum of the earth. Of course the first thing I
did was go to the local library and look up ("name of the motorcycle club") in the card catalog. "A Wayward Angel" was the only match so I started reading it when I was about 8
years old. My mother took it away from me before I
finished, but it had a profound impact on me
nonetheless. Last year my friend took me to a
cemetery in a bad section of LA for my birthday. I
asked to go there because I'd been near it, but never
in it and inexplicably it called to me. I came across
a tombstone for George Wethern. It wasn't the same
George Wethern as (the main character) in the book, I don't think, but the
coincidence spooked me and made me realize that
there's some reason that I need to read the book
again. I've thought about it often in the last several decades, but I need to read it again to know why it has
some meaning for me.
When I started searching for it last year I thought
I'd be lucky to find a trace of it. I'm sure you can
imagine my shock when I found one copy available on
amazon.com for... $500. Over the past year I've
sporadically seen copies on ebay, amazon.com, and
other sources going for $400- $500. There are 2 copies
on Amazon.com available right now. Evidently the book
hold a great deal of appeal for some people, but I'm
not sure why. I'm also not sure why I'm haunted by it
either.
You had the number 81 in parentheses after your
seller name on ebay. I don't know if that's
coincidence as well, but I think that number has some
significance to (the motorcycle club) as well. Everything came
together this afternoon when I saw your listing on
ebay and it all prompted me to finally try to get a
hold of this book and understand why I need to read
it.
This is probably more than you wanted to know, but I
found myself trying to explain my interest to myself,
as well as to you, once I began typing. Happy
Holidays! Tanya

So finally I have a copy of the book that has lingered in my mind for so many years. I've only read about half of it in the past month because I've found that it takes me awhile to take in what I'm reading. Every chapter provokes so many thoughts because I was 8 years old when I last read it. The book describes the life of a violent criminal in blunt, brutal detail. I can picture the rooms of my childhood home where I sat reading this book as a young girl. I remember how much the book upset me, but how I felt strangely compelled to keep on reading it. Somehow it seemed very necessary to read it and absorb it. There was something I needed to understand. Now I think I know what it was.
When I first checked that book out of the Menlo Park Library in Northern California I had almost no experience of anything outside of my conservative family and the school system in that very conservative, uptight area. When any of the adults I knew spoke of their children they spoke of which the best schools were and in terms of how their children could be successful. In addition to the emphasis on shools and grades, the parents encouraged, or forced, their kids to pursue sports and other extracurricular activities so their kids would be admitted to private college-preparatory highschools. The emphasis from a young age was on a "well-rounded" student. That's what the "good" schools were looking for. Almost no one that I knew, including myself, ended up at a public highschool. That's in spite of the fact that the public highschools were very strong academically in that area. The private school parents believed that they were providing their kids with the best chance at being admitted to a prestigious four-year university by paying $10,000 a year for them to attend a prestigious highschool. They also wanted their kids to interact with kids from other well-heeled families and to stay away from the "middle-class" ones in public schools.
When I started reading "A Wayward Angel" I was 8 and my parents were trying to groom me to succeed academically and fit in with the other kids at school. I was doing well at the former because I was such a bookworm, but failing abysmally at the latter because I was a dork. I was painfully shy, horrible at sports, and always had geeky, out-of-date clothes because I could never figure out what was "cool." "A Wayward Angel" was about people who did not care about conventional standards. They did not care at all. Not even a bit. For the first time I glimpsed a world outside of the snobbish neighborhood where I lived. It was a revelation to me that not everyone on the planet measured success by the school you attended and how rich your friends were.
The people documented in the book were far from upstanding citizens, most were criminals. Even at my young age then I knew that I would not seek a life of crime. I did not admire the people in the book, I just realized that I wanted to be away from the phoniness and pretentious values that I was surrounded by. My young world expanded by reading that book because I became fascinated by a culture of people who flaunted their disdain for conservative society. It gave me hope that I was not the only one who did not want to be programmed to "succeed" on the academic fast-track.
Let me say here that anyone else would be extremely hard-pressed to find any inspiration in this book. Its contents are very dark and graphic. It was simply that it was the first thing that I read that really jolted me into an awareness of life outside my circumscribed existence, and it prompted me to question a lot of what I was seeing in the behavior of my elders.
Even before that book I used to fear that I would someday grow up to be like many of the adults around me. Would I someday find myself with other adults comparing my new material possessions with theirs? Or comparing my children with theirs? Would the thrust of most of my conversation just be a subtle form of one-upsmanship? Would I seek to befriend people who could help me climb socially? And what would I be climbing for? What was the pinnacle anyways? I knew it must be sad to live like that: I saw it every day.
Reading this book as an adult brings back a flood of feelings I had as a young girl. It reminds me of how intense the pressure was to conform to everybody else's ideals. It was good that I decided to think for myself and search for what I wanted. An academic education is extremely valuable and material possessions can be fun, but there are a lot of fascinating people who have neither. I'm so glad that I expanded my world beyond the neighborhood and the prevailing attitudes of where I grew up.

Hello-
Here and there I receive e-mails asking what new magazines and videos that I'm currently in so I thought I'd list some of them here.
- VCA just released Jim Holliday's "Another Blonde Moment" on DVD and VHS. Jim is one of my favorite people to work for. His sets are ALWAYS full of a ton of beautiful girls, (check out the box cover of "Another Blonde Moment"!), and are a great deal of fun as well.
- I have an interview with a bunch of photos in the Feb. Club Confidential
- there's a "Centerfold of the Year " contest in the Feb. Busty Beauties and I'm one of the contenders. Please vote for me if you have a moment!
- Here's a funny one: I received my Jan. 20 issue of Newsweek and was thumbing through it when I saw my picture in an article about porno and computer technology.

Last week I posted the first of what will be my weekly "journal" entries on this site. Thank you so much to those of you who e-mailed me words of encouragement on expressing my thoughts. I was very timid, and still am, about putting my words up for view because it seemed somewhat self-indulgent to think that anyone would want to read any of it. However, I decided that no one's forced to read these musings if they don't feel like it, so it doesn't really matter if they are up here or not. Writing has always been very therapeutic for me as it sates some unexplainable need I have to organize my thoughts and vent my emotions. I wrote the following over the past few days as I have been dancing a lot lately and the subject has been on my mind.

Quite often strippers encounter customers in the clubs who are needlessly rude and adversarial. Of course most men who come to watch the dancers are polite and respectful, but there is certainly a portion of them who can be dickheads. Over the years that I've danced I have often wondered at the source of their animosity.
To some extent dancers need to be comfortable with their sexuality and also have confidence in their appearance. If they don't have those qualities they will not be able to step up on stage half-naked and dance more than a few times, let alone make a living at it. Perhaps some of the customers are threatened by attractive, sexually expressive women and are further resentful of the fact that they have to pay to see them nude or semi-nude. That particular set of customers needs to regroup their thoughts about both strippers and women in general.
Every woman is entitled to feel sexy. She is not a "bitch" or "stuck-up" if she feels attractive and enjoys male attention. She is not a "whore" or a "slut" if she behaves provocatively in the appropriate environment. A strip club is the appropriate environment. Customers walk in the door of an adult establishment because they want to give shape to a sexual fantasy. Exotic dancing can be extremely erotic and beautiful. When customers come into the clubs and insult the women working there they expose themselves as the bitter, unhappy people that they are. It's not just that they dislike strippers either. (If that was the case why would they be in there paying a cover charge and buying overpriced drinks?) Their hatefulness reflects their attitude towards women in general. Some people just don't want women to enjoy their sexuality and have confidence in their physicality.
Something many strippers have heard at work is:

"You're not that hot. You do nothing for me."

Customers making comments such as that are merely trying to shake the confidence of the woman to whom they are speaking, and there's no need for that. Not every dancer appeals to every customer and that is fine. Nobody is universally attractive, but no one needs to be insulted unnecessarily either.
Another oft-heard line in clubs is:

"What's SHE doing up there dancing?? Yuck!"

Every woman, regardless of her weight, ethnicity, age, or any other factor should relish her own sexuality. Maybe she does not strike the fancy of some patrons, but there are probably others who enjoy her performance. There is no one "type" who suits everybody.
The crux of this whole matter is that many people try to punish women verbally for enjoying or displaying the erotic part of their beings. I can't count the number of times that I have been called such things as "stupid bimbo" or "dumb bitch" at work. On more than a few occasions I have been informed that: "it's a good thing you can dance because there's probably nothing else that you could do."
Inevitably these words come from people who have barely bothered to speak to me and who will never know me. I don't take their comments personally because they stem from a hatred towards women in general. A strip club is a place where customers can come and openly marvel at the beauty of women. Strippers can provide an enticing, beautiful performance for someone who enjoys viewing the sexual nature of a woman. Those people who do not like that type of entertainment should simply not come in.

Hello and welcome to all!

I've had this site since 2000 and have long planned to develop a member's area. Within the next few months it should be up and running. This is the first of weekly "journal" entries which I will begin posting on the site. I enjoy writing but have no idea if anyone wants to read any of my musings.

It is Christmas Day 2002 as I write this. (You will be reading this several weeks later.) A few weeks ago at my gym a young man named Jimmy came in. No one had seen him in the better part of a year. He is about 18 and had begun coming to the gym when he was about 14 or 15. Since he was a local kid some of the members knew him. It was quite evident that he came from a troubled background. The owners of the gym allowed him to take martial arts classes and use the facilities in exchange for his doing some cleanup work around the place. They also told him he could sleep upstairs in the offices if he needed to.

No one seemed to know what had become of Jimmy's parents. He lived with two older brothers in a rough section of town. One brother was about 3 years older than Jimmy, and the other may have been about 5 years older. Both were drug users and had been in and out of jail for a series of petty offenses. Of course neither was equipped to be raising a young brother, and presumably, they had not received much in the way of parenting themselves. They seemed to care for Jimmy and tried to help him out as best they could, but Jimmy was already experimenting with drugs and doing poorly in school.

One of the martial arts instructors had taken a particular interest in helping him, but Jimmy started taking classes less and less frequently. When he was about 16 he started using speed. An older sister who lived in Arizona found out, came to Los Angeles and brought him to live with her in a better environment. For whatever reason that did not last long and Jimmy returned to L.A., but barely came to the gym at all anymore.

About a year and a half passed and someone from the gym was out jogging and saw Jimmy in front of a house in her neighborhood. He was sitting by himself wearing a T-shirt with the gym's name on it. She said hello, gave him a hug and told him to stop by the gym again. He was clearly under the effects of some heavy drugs. The sweetness in his personality was still there, but he communicated as if his conscious self was a great distance away. He promised to stop by and say hello to everyone. Armando, one of the martial arts instructors, heard the story and went to the same neighborhood over the next few days trying to find him but had no luck.

Others who knew Jimmy wondered where he was, but at the same time they almost feared to know. Almost a year went by and no one saw him again until a few weeks ago. He walked into the gym out of the blue looking upbeat. His demeanor was far different than it had been in the recent times that anyone had seen him. He had a clear look in his eye and told everyone that he had enlisted in the Army. He had just completed a six-week stint at one of the Army camps and was heading back for more training after Christmas. It was beautiful to see him excited and happy and having a positive direction in life.

Today, on Christmas, I think of him and hope that he will keep his life on a promising course and find happiness. No child should ever be abandoned by his parents and left to find his own way without adult guidance. There was probably more that a lot of us at the gym could have done to help, but maybe, like me, no one knew how far they should intercede in Jimmy's life. As I think about that today I still am not sure what the answer is.