I have a love/hate relationship with writing, especially about myself. I like to think I’m a good writer, but I spend a lot of time thinking about writing and almost no time actually doing it unless I have a deadline and a specific something that is due. So among my new year’s resolutions for 2011 is a promise to actually blog.
So let’s start with AVN. I think it’s a good place to start. I had never been to any sort of adult convention before this past weekend. This time last year I was still mostly doing other things. I dabbled in porn but it had not yet become my world. This year though, my scene in Orgy of Exes (with Cadence St. John, India Summer, Misti Dawn, Zoey Holloway, Briana Blair and Jamey Janes) got nominated for an AVN award for best all girl group scene. So, I figured I would go for the awards show itself. Super last minute, I tried getting various people to let me sign for them, but it didn’t work out so I planned on skipping the convention. I also tried getting a ride to Vegas with no luck.
Thursday though, I got a call from Eric over at Twisted Bliss Entertainment asking me if I had called him, which I hadn’t. Eric has shot me a couple of times, and he’s a great guy. When I told him I wasn’t signing, he said that of course I was – I could be in his booth. Totally thrilled, I hung up and started getting ready to drive my ass to Vegas in the morning. I hadn’t booked a hotel, but I knew a ton of people who were going to be there, so I decided to take my chances. If nothing else, I had a car I could sleep in.
For once, I packed my bag neatly – grouping my folded clothes together by type: underwear, stockings, short shorts, jeans. I ended up wearing almost none of it, and the contents of my bag (and my roommate’s bag…more on that later) are presently scattered all over the back seat of the car I still haven’t cleaned out along with the camera I didn’t end up using but hey, I tried. For some reason, my wife, Sten, I and stayed up until 2AM despite knowing we both had to be up early. I left LA around 8 the next morning in my ’84 Benz (which doesn’t have a working radio or windows that roll down, two things that need to get fixed if it’s going to be used for road trips) and drove straight through to Las Vegas.
Once at the Venitian, I got slightly lost. Vegas casinos are labyrinths, and the convention was tucked away at one corner of the building, past another convention (for electronics) which I started to wander into before I noticed it was the wrong one. I found AEE eventually, got my badge and went inside. The booth I shared was also occupied by, at varying times: Allison Tyler (who I once fisted in a VIP booth), Mahina Zaltana (who I’ve done a few scenes with and played with off camera), Vanessa Blake (who was part of this awesome campsite orgy with Mahina and me, among others), Shay Fox (who played my mom/girlfriend in a Girlfriends Films scene that hasn’t come out yet), Tara Lynn Foxx (who I have met on set…I love her energy), Sasha Heart (who I did a fantastic scene with, which will be on my site), Imani Rose (who I will be working with for Girlfriends Films), Lya Pink and Sparky Sinclaire (both cool girls I met for the first time)… and hopefully not a bunch of girls I’m forgetting right now.
Although at the time I thought it busy, Friday was actually uncrowded compared to the following day. The convention reminded me of a family reunion (or perhaps a high school one… although the only high school reunion I’ve yet gone to was my second – and that only because I happened to be visiting the school at the time on some unrelated matter – an affair which consisted of myself, and a few other girls I barely remembered, sharing pastries with the head of alumni events). I saw people I’d worked with but hadn’t seen in ages, people I had wanted to meet but hadn’t yet, and of course my friends who were in town. I was thrilled to be there, enjoying the fact that I had no other obligations than to be social. Although officially “signing” I didn’t have anything to physically sign (a last ditch attempt to get 8x10s at a Costco along the way had failed) so I autographed a few shirts and took pictures with some people. The conventions goers were, without exception, friendly and polite.
At a suggestion from Dan (of Girlfriends Films), I attended a meeting about condoms in porn. The only other actress who showed up was Brittany Andrews, and so the meeting ended up being less a debate about condoms and more a discussion with the lawyers from the Freech Speech Coalition about how the organization could better serve the talent side of the adult world. Anyway, the meeting ended late and I discovered that the convention was over for the day. I panicked, having left my video camera and my other belongings at the booth. I ran back, fighting the tide of exiting fans and porn people. Heart pounding, I neared the booth, where I found Eric, JP (of Adult Trading Card Co) and a few others standing around my camera bag, discussing whose camera it contained. Relieved, I asked them where they were going. I hadn’t yet disclosed that I was roomless. “I have nowhere to be” was my official response.
A bunch of people planned on heading back to JP’s room at the Luxor, and I offered to drive. My car, however, was parked nine stories up behind a seemingly interminable line of exiting cars inching imperceptibly forward. We gave up on that, planning on hiring a taxi, but when we got downstairs JP had already called a limo. I had never ridden in a limo before, and I liked it – plush seats, my arm around Imani, surrounded by new and old friends. Soon we arrived at JP’s room. In the spacious bathroom (I think it was bigger than the bedroom, with a separate tub and shower and a huge counter that proved useful when half a dozen girls needed to do their makeup at the same time) a naked girl (who turned out to be fetish model Rosalynn LeRoux) soaked in a tub of bubbles. “There’s room for one more,” she said, and I stripped and joined her.
JP treated us all to an amazing dinner, and we decided where to go to get drinks. We ended up at the Venitian circle bar eventually (with an odd detour to the Palazzo circle bar, which was deserted), as more and more porn people filtered in. I met up with the lovely Katie Summers and Rodney Moore’s assistant, Stevie, and somehow got separated from the people I’d come there with…
Eventually, I found out that they had all left. I was stranded, but not terribly worried. I trusted my ability to find someone to crash with, and barring that, I did have the car still parked on the ninth floor of the garage. I wandered around, talking to people. The only downside to the circle bar (and really the only bad thing I encountered all weekend) was the presence of certain rude civilians. Not fans or convention goers, but dudes who knew what the badges meant. Some guy literally walked up to me and told me to give him a blow job, presumably because he saw my badge and though badge = porn girl = easy. Needless to say, I did not comply. Assholes aside, I was still having a great time, running on booze and no sleep.
Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning I ran into Annie Cruz, and we ended up fucking right there at the bar. We started off in a slot machine chair and ended up on the floor, naked, screaming, squirting and otherwise making a huge scene. Annie is wild in the best way, fierce, right there with me in her intensity. A circle formed around us, taking videos with camera phones. At some point I took someone’s phone away and held onto it, I think because he tried to shove it up my ass. Eventually the cops showed up. I urged Annie to make herself scare, and tried to do the same, but they caught up with me. I played dumb, and was forgiven for my “arrestable offense.” I pretended not to know Annie’s name or whereabouts, and the cops left.
Between greeting and fucking, I had asked Annie if I could stay her room (which was at the Venetian). She agreed, but I lost track of her after I almost got arrested, and a fan who kept offering to lick my pussy (not getting the whole gay thing no matter what I said to him) did his best to prevent me from looking for her. By the time I was able to disengage from him, Annie had left. I met up with April O’Neil and made out with her for a while (including picking her up – I LOVE small girls like that). She’s a fantastic kisser, and I’d love to do a scene with her.
Seth and Chad, two crew guys who worked on Art School Dykes, were hanging out and I fell into talking to them as the evening wound down. I was happy they were there, grateful that someone still was as dawn neared. Yet another annoying dude showed up, pestering me despite my insistence that I was “the gayest bitch here.” I had weathered enough such attention, and I was curt. “You’re barking up the wrong tree,” I said. “You’re in the wrong forest,” I replied when he continued. He asked me for my number. I told him to follow me on twitter. He asked why I was mean, and at that point I stood up and found Seth and Chad who had walked a short distance away.
“This dude won’t leave me alone,” I said. They suggested Denny’s. We watched the sun rise from the Denny’s window as I downed five cups of coffee and explained that I was planning, at this point, on eschewing sleep and just going back to the convention. They offered me their room, but they were half an hour away and didn’t plan on being back at the expo in the morning, so I thanked them but declined. I had a great conversation with them, high on coffee, waning drunkenness and an overload of social energy. When they left to go sleep, I wandered back to the Venitian alone, utterly manic, lost to elation. I took the moving walkway back and forth again and again, then danced alone under the false clouds of the desolate Palazzo shops until a security guard came over to ask me if I was okay, and I suddenly felt deeply, thoroughly sad.
Crashing, experiencing another less than awesome first in a waking hangover, I trudged back to my car and changed. The clock in my car, eleven hours fast and on military time, read 19:30. Here, I think, ended day 1 of AVN. Vegas, always open, with its temperature controlled air and artificial lights, has no time – but here we break. Next time, AVN day 2.