has kissed me…so, I’ve been writing a little. Oh sure, I’ve been scribbling notes here and there all along, but I haven’t really been doing what I consider writing-writing. Comparatively speaking, I wrote quite a bit last year. I wrote lots of stories stuffed with every emotion and then some. Some of those stories I submitted and some I didn’t. The point is, I was writing and that piece of me that feeds my soul was eating as if it were living with a gourmet chef.

As much as I love writing, it can be a slippery slope for me though. I say that only because the need to write is an endless demand of solitary time. Solitary time that’s necessary to create - consumed in one’s own thoughts. And oh how solitary time eats into other parts of my life. I don’t have the same free-time like I did just one year ago, so my time gets gobbled up and I feel more often than not, that I can’t lock myself into a reclusive state of what is being a writer, because…well, because of life.

I’m lucky to have rich things in my life: friends, family, love struggles, work struggles, and all kinds of responsibilities and none of those things really want to share their time with the writer in me. No one usually wants to play second fiddle to solitary writing time. And it’s not an issue of having selfish friends either. You have to nurture relationships or they won’t survive. And to be honest I want to nurture the people in my life that I love and care about. And I’m no different, I want that too. Everyone wants to feel special and important when it comes to those people we care about the most.

Oh, but wait…I can hear writing calling out to me in that low and seductive, bedroom voice…

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking: we all have to make choices. It’s a poetic balancing act, and all of us have the same struggles - we all have to make sacrifices sometimes. I know. I get it. As I start to let writing seduce me a little more, I’m curious, how do you create the time to do that one thing that truly feeds your soul without stepping into writing quick-sand? I mean doesn’t something in your life suffer because of your passion? Please, enlighten me while writing now nibbles at my left ear lobe….

Hungry, curious, and writing -
Neve Black

…were the words inside the card I sent off to my mother this week - she turns 79 on Friday. Holy, it’s time to stop praying mom, and start shaking your sexy, groove thing and get down with your bad self!

This has been a tough week for me. I’m ridiculously busy at my boring-ass day job, I’ve met contractors every morning and night at my house, so I’m extra tired. What’s worse, I had to push back being a guest blogger for one of my favorite persons, Ashley Lister at OhGetAGrip. I’m sorry, Ash. Sniff-sniff.

I feel badly about missing that deadline too: badly because I hate disappointing people and badly because I’m honored when I’m invited to write, or speak and I can’t do it simply because of life’s pesky time constraints. Who would have thought I’d ever be irked over anything that had the word, contraint in it? But irked over constraints I am.

It been said that every rain cloud has a silver lining, and the thunder storm is about to clear, because there’s only two more days of hell left in this week, and then it’s Friday.

Speaking of hell, I’m not sure if my God fearing mother will let Satan in for her birthday, and really get down and get Neve-Black sheep of the family, dirty, if for just one very special day. But not to worry, I have no problem hanging out with Satan from time to time - he’s usually disguised as tequila *shrugs*.  And I’m hoping by Friday I’ll start feeling a little less irked about feeling contrained.

Baaaaaa
Neve Black

This past Sunday marked the eighth annual Taste of Tremont street fair. I usually go for an hour or so; walk the couple blocks and mingle with friends while eating grazing at all the various kiosks from the local, yummy restaurants in town.

But this year’s Taste of Tremont was in celebration of our friend and local neon artist, Jeff Chiplis. Jeff was victim to a heineous crime about a month ago: Jeff was shot in the back after walking down to one of the local haunts during our monthly art walk.  Friends and neighbors were all shocked after learning the news. I was in KL when I found out - feeling helpless and sad. Fortunately, for all of us, Jeff survived and is recovering.

But the road to recovery takes awhile. Jeff is one of the lucky ones who earns his living as an artist. And he can’t really work right now. So, from donations and the help of loving friends and fellow artists, we all banned together as a community and asked for donations, while offering variations of carrot (jeff is also known as the Carrot King)  juice during the festivities this year. Our goal was to sell 500 cups of carrot juice. The team nearly doubled that goal and I feel overwhelmed with happiness knowing all the proceeds from each and every person’s efforts go to Jeff and his family. 

I have so much pride in my heart. Everyone worked so hard for something that was so good and so selfless. It’s nice to know that sometimes the darkest and ugliest times are filled with the shiniest and brightest stars:  love, compassion and hope.

 
Feeling  The Love
Neve Black

I went and saw the preview screening of the epic film, Agora this week. And the word, epic barely describes this 70 million dollar budgeted film - the cinematography is fantastic.

Agora tells the story about the rise of Christianity in 4^th-century Alexandria. If you have an interest in philosophy, history, culture and well directed, acted and produced cinematic films, I recommend adding this film to your list of must sees. I will warn you though, it’s bloody…think Romans and Christians… and we all know what they did – yes, bloody.

The focus on this story was about the philosophical teachings of the woman philosopher, Hypatia, played by the very beautiful, and very talented, Rachel Weisz.

Historically speaking, pagan philosophers spent a lot time in Alexandria and even more particularly, the Alexandria Library, which was really more like a compound. These philosophers conducted teachings to students in things like, mathematics, physics, and astronomy, each leading to questioning the ways of world –

As religion took its hold over everything it possibly could, Hypatia was persecuted for being different; for never marrying and choosing to study her passion for philosophy. She was of course, persecuted for being un-Godly and in the end; she was rendered a witch and stoned to death. I told you this film was bloody, didn’t I?

In spite of the violence, the softer message in this film was Hypatia’s ability to go against the odds; to rise above the chaos and violence, because of what she believed in, even though it was different than what everyone else thought, or what everyone else told her to think.

For me, a non-follower, and a forever questioner of beliefs, I believe that a little bit of Hypatia lives in each of us today -

Feeling the spirit of Hypatia -

Neve Black

We meet our protaganists: Robert, a middle aged, burn-out, NYC saxophone player , who has essentially lost his soul, and we realize that he feels he has nothing to live for, when he meets a young, hopeful Serbian man, Branko, that has his own life struggles, but represents the antithesis of Robert- Branko is driven by hope and by love, thus has everything to live for.

The story pans between the streets of NYC and Belgrade, and the cinematic choreography is outstanding.  The acting is superb. The direction is stellar. What can I say? I. Loved. This. Film.

Without giving too much away, and possibly spoiling your own cinematic enjoyment, this story is a rare beauty - it’s full of internal struggles, but in the end, love conquors all - and we all know what a naughty romantic I am.

Double thumbs-up from Ms. Black goes to Tamo I Ovde
Neve Black

Doesn’t the image above make you want to…well, you know…doesn’t it make you feel…well, you know… like purchasing a copy of your own book?

Rachel Kramer Bussel, our editor and chief Orgasm Eroticist has set up a blog page here to promote and celebrate the release of Orgasmic Erotica for Women.

I’m honored to have a story pressed between the dirty, dirty pages of this book with many of my erotic writers and friends.

Oh, and be sure and let me know if you’re looking for a great excuse to head to the Big Apple in late October. Hmmm…maybe you’d like to join me there for an orgasm…? Rachel has set up a special reading to celebrate this…well, this… orgasmic endeavor at The Happy Endings Lounge on Thursday, October 21st. Oh, and just in case you might not know…that’s just around the corner from my birthday. Many happy NYC orgasms to me.

Neve Black

Where was I? Blue skies….oh yes, yes, yes, now I remember. I’m also planning to watch some great films at my very own, fully air-con, dark and dreamy-like, Cinematheque.  MEOW!

For example, here’s what’s playing this week…oh, and it might be double-feature flim night for me on Saturday:

That’s Groucho and Harpo Marx in the fun-filled, film, Coconuts. Plays at the Cinematheque on Saturday, July 10th at 5:30 PM.

Getting older is no problem. You just have to live long enough. Either he’s dead or my watch has stopped. Humor is reason gone mad. Before I speak, I have something important to say.  Groucho Marx

And then…playing directly afterwards @ 7:30 PM:

HERE AND THERE/TAMO I OVDE

Serbia/USA/Germany, 2009, Darko Lungulov

A down-and-out NYC saxophonist enters into a business agreement with a Serbian acquaintance: for $5,000 the American will travel to Belgrade, marry the Serb’s girlfriend, and bring her back to New York. But not all goes as planned… Winner of the prize for Best New Narrative Filmmaker at the 2009 Tribeca Film Festival, this deadpan, Jarmuschesque comedy-romance is one of the year’s delightful surprises. With Cyndi Lauper.

Blue skies..nothing but long, leisurely licks, film and blue skies -
Neve Black

Based on my last blog post over the outsourcing nightmare I’ve suddenly awoken up to, I’m going to ride this psycho-circus, merry-go-round ride a little longer before I jump off the painted pony, which feels more like an evil stallion, and escape from the madness.

I have a few more months of pain to endure: the house I’m rehabbing is, well…let’s just say, there’s been a lot done, thus far, but there’s a lot more that needs to be done too. And its needs take money. Ironically, my desire to live debt-free has a big price tag. That price tag sometimes feels like I’ve sold my soul to the devil – working for a company that I’m choking on, because of its moral and ethical culture is so misaligned with my own. I’m trying like hell to get myself into a position that offers me more freedom to be a lot more choosey when it comes to my next job.

Bless me father for I have sinned: my penance is doing whatever I can for those people I work with that have been exploited for the almighty, fucking dollar. Dear God. Dear Universe: you know I’m doing what I can.

But what’s next for Neve after my plot to escape over the barb-wire fence of the circus? Well, that narrow escape will certainly not be unscathed, and one of my best friends and confidants thinks I should write an essay about this experience. He’s smart and he knows me. He has good advice and this is probably something I will tackle, because fuck’s sakes, I really have to get it out – my blog post was just the tip of this jacked-up situation. This shit sits with me all the time, like undigested meat rotting away in the pit of my stomach.

So, then what’s next after the essay, Neve? (I talk to myself a lot). Well, I’m going to continue studying my love for language; I start school again late summer. My goal is to work for an organization that is better aligned with my own moral and ethical compass. And hell, I really want to make a difference in people’s lives. What a concept.  I want to feel good about my job; to respect its people, and to respect the organiation’s culture as a whole. And if I didn’t realize this before, I know now more than ever - that this nightmare of a situations really weighs heavy on my heart and my soul and I will think twice if and when the devil comes knocking.

Neve Black - writer, lover, sinner…working toward absolution -

and a little Disgruntled…don’t worry, I’m not ready to go all postal or anything, but let’s say that I’m feeling a bit unsettled.

I suppose I am slightly naïve when it comes to expecting people will do the right thing. And I suppose I’ve been like that my whole life. I expect people not to lie; to say what’s so, and I’m extremely disappointed when I find out that I’ve been lied to. It happens to me time and time again too. I think the part of me that feels dissolutioned, disenchanted and then disgruntled is there’s actually a piece inside me that is hopeful most people aren’t really liars. And when I find out differently - hope withers up and dies; taking that piece of me with it.

And just why is my expectation so unrealistic?

I suppose it should come as no surprise to you that I do not fit what the typical corporate America model looks like: blond/black hair, flip-flops whenever possible, opinionated, porn-writer, oh and I’m a liberal. Suffice to say, I’ve struggled with my new, corporate job since day one. I’ve tried to balance out the institutionalized forum with things like 2+ mile walks to and from work, a view of the Lake, taking pride in liking most of the people I work with, and most recently a trip to Malaysia – a nice perk, wouldn’t you say? When I think about the perfect corporate America model, I wonder what that looks like - and shouldn’t it look a bit more like me? Shouldn’t corporate America be a bit more gentle and honest and much less disappointing? I can’t help it, but I feel badly when people are mistreated. I hate bullies, control freaks and show-off, blow-hards.

I’ve been back to work for one week after my trip to Kuala Lumpur. If you stop on my blog postings, you’d noticed I posted a lot of pictures about food and the fantastic places I saw, along with myriad of different people I met, but what I didn’t really touch on with you is the purpose I was sent down there –

You see my company has been having some productivity issues with our team in Malaysia. I was sent along with my manager and two other people to sort out what the issue or issues are – it didn’t take too long to figure those issues out either – and our assessment was right on, but what I’ve learned upon my return is the company doesn’t necessarily want to know what the real issue is – why? Because doing something about it would expose their lies – and fixing those issues comes with a price that’s too high – so instead, let’s just smoke a mirror everyone, shift things around a bit and make it look like we’ve actually done something about what the real problem is - welcome to corporatefuckingamerica, Neve.

I was devastated after hearing that the company doesn’t have any intention of stripping away the veil and getting down to the raw, meat of what ails it; protecting what is the most valuable of all assets – human capital. And once again, just like that, hope died inside of me today. I felt nauseated and depressed. I know this news may sound trite to some of you, and maybe you’re not surprised at all, after all, what did I expect, right? It’s coporate America. But things like this really bother my sense and sensibilities. It rubs my fur the wrong way and it makes me feel horrible inside. Call me crazy, but I  like to contribute, and make a difference - I was really excited when I discovered the root of evil and was hopeful the company would make a change for the better - to be honest; to do the right thing.

And just why is my expectation so unrealistic?

After a peril of a day today, I didn’t want to pop open a beer, or pour myself a heavy shot of tequila, even the wine is still sitting in its respected bottle on the baker’s rack shelf. Instead, the writer in me wanted to come out. The writer needed to come out. I needed to write this out of my system. I needed to speak the truth here, if not for anyone but for myself.

The reprieve for me is that this job has a time-line attached to it – I won’t be here forever. God I will kill someone if I didn’t have a goal I was trying to achieve, but what happens to all the people that don’t leave? That can’t leave? What’s worse, what about those that don’t think it’s really that bad – and they start to believe the lies? Drink the kool-aid, eat the shit and say it tastes really good….aaaah, jeez, there I go, feeling dissolutioned all over again.

Okay, so I vented. Now tell me, how’s everyone else’s Monday been?

Neve Black

So, about those plans… I ended up sleeping my way straight through Saturday day and didn’t wake up until Saturday night…yep, just like that, the daylight hours eclipsed into darkness. I was exhausted. The good news is I did hang out in downtown KL amongst the hip-hop, happening night life scene. And it was raining a bit, but when it comes to rain, there’s nothing a Neve Black hat can’t cure:

Oh, and for dinner that night, I slipped out of the rain and into a little place that had tempted me with the smell of garlic, which in my opinion is an aphrodisiac. I followed my lust for food to a Middle Eastern place and I discovered a brand new favorite: creamy and scrumptious hummus mixed with eggplant, garlic, drizzled with tahinni - all served with fresh, hot flat bread. Sorry, I gobbled this up so fast it was gone daddy gone before I could snap a picture and share with you.

Kuala Lumpur City Center, the city that never sleeps, gets a new Neve Black name…

The city buzzes with music, traffic, lights, vendors, restaurants, clubs and gobs of people all quickly on their way to eat, drink and yes, be Malay-merry. As if the area isn’t already chock-full with things to do and see, the FIFA World Cup series is going on too – and you can’t help but get caught up in the fever. It’s been very exciting to sit and watch some of the games being played amongst a plethora of cultures. I love being exposed to all the various types of people; all intermingling together as they watch one country beat the shit out of another country… and in my not-asked-for opinion, doing it the right way, on the playing field.

The best way to describe downtown KL for me was imagining that I was in London, because the geographic size of both cities was very similar to me, as well as the right-sided driving, the European street design, to include round-abouts and yes, even the architecture was English cottage-esque. Oh, and as mentioned, the huge multi-cultural element that I found in both places is very similar also, however I don’t recall seeing nearly as many monks in London (okay, I never saw any in London) as I’ve seen in KL. The obvious glaring difference between the two cities is the weather – London is always cold, gray and drizzly, whereas KL is balmy and tropical, with the occassional monkey jumping about. Replace the English Channel with the Indian Ocean; add a few palm trees, and other lush, green foliage types and Voila! You’ve stepped into what I now refer to as…can I get a drum roll, please…? Malay-don.

Later that night, I ended up at an interesting nightclub called Skybar. Skybar sits high above the city’s skyline; with floor to ceiling windows – and curiously, a large lap pool that runs down the middle of the club. Don’t ask me why there’s a lap pool in a club, and the first thing I thought was, holy crap, that’s gotta be a liability…no, I didn’t go for a dip and I didn’t see anyone else swimming laps either.  If you’re lucky to find an open seat, you step down from the teak floor and into the cushioned window seats and take in the phenomenal panoramic views of the city – Twin Towers at night shown below.

The DJ spins loud, techno music, and I scratch my head with more curiosity, because instead of everyone dancing with their bad selves, they attempt to have intimate conversations amidst the peaceful views and the loud thumping music. So, like a good batgirl, I ordered a Tiger and try and blend in. No snickering please.

Oh. My. Got! Look the sun! I’m melting, melting, melting….

It’s Sunday MORNING, batgirl, rise and fucking shine, you pale skinned, creature of the KL night! I’m headed off to eat breakfast and drink coffee, instead of drinking my normal KL mainstay, breakfast with a Tiger beer, before heading back downtown today. The plan is to see the world famous Petronas Towers; and walk across the bridge that ties the two together. I’m also going to do a little more shopping. Oh, and by the way, I haven’t really touched on how absolutely ridiculous the shopping is here.

The cost of a Kuala Lumpur ringet compared to the U.S. dollar equates to about 70% more buying power. And there are more malls here to spend your hard-earned money on than I’ve ever seen in my life.

There’s nighttime street shopping:

Indoor malls with so many floors, you wouldn’t get through all of them in a lifetime, and middle malls, which are somewhere between the street vendors and the gigantimus multi-storied malls that have roller-coasters inside (not kidding):

And if that’s not enough, I went to Little India, and visited China Town too and none of these places are really very small townish at all.

China Town:

Litte India:

Suffice to say, Malay-dons love their shopping. I’ve never seen so many shoppers shopping all the time. I wonder if people do so much shopping because the malls are filled with the cool ambrosia of air-con. It’s fucking hot down here – hot and humid is Malaysian heat. I’m personally not much of a shopper, so for me, just watching everyone shopping is exhausting for me. I’m the girl with her trusted note pad, off to the side, jotting down notes, or asking lots of questions as to what, why, who and where? And then, there’s always more food to be eaten…beer to be drank…hey, it’s hot, what do you want from me?