Sadly I am exiting my Larry Bird year, but I am looking forward to my Shaquille O’Neal year. I’m not really sure what my Shaq era entails, but I’m excited to finding out!

The greatest present will always be [INSERT YOUR NAME HERE]’s presence, but if you’re unable to spare a moment of your time at the current moment, a regular present will suffice!

When in doubt, cash gifts are king! I’ll be leaving for Italy in under two weeks and would adore a little extra spending money. All of my handles should be the same, but if you need to know what they are, please reach out so I can direct you to the proper channels. But if you’d prefer to gift via credit/debit card, I’ve included a few links below that you can use.

Gift - $50

Gift - $100

Gift - $250

Gift - $500

Gift - $1,000

But of course there is always my wishlist! My top wishlist items are new bedding (new duvet cover and duvet insert are most important) and the Tory Burch tote, but anything on there would be so appreciated!

I’m so grateful to celebrate another year around the sun! August is proving to be extremely busy, but I have the smallest amount of time left 8/25-31. Otherwise I’m excited to see what adventures we get up to this fall!

Washington DC 6/3-5

Philadelphia 6/15-16

Chicago 6/24-26

Boston 7/15-16

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Well…traveling right now appears to be kind of crazy. I’ve decided to cancel my remaining tours. Spring might be my favorite season in New York (don’t tell fall!) so I’d like to be here as much as possible to really soak up the much-needed sun. If you had been wanting to see me, but saw that I would be touring, this is your sign to reach out and snatch up those few extra dates while you still can.

Even though I won’t be touring, I’m still happy to fly to you! If you’d like to book a FMTY (fly me to you) or TMTY (train me to you) please reach out! You’re also always welcome to visit me here in NYC.

“How Old Are You?”

We had just sat down on the couch, exchanged a few pleasantries, when we abruptly asked, “How old are you?”

The question made me laugh because I’ve had a few people ask me that recently, more than usual. A handful of times it’s been with clients, a few times in my personal life. Something must be in the air!

“I’m thirty-three,” I replied.

He balked, “Really? You don’t look thirty-three! I would have thought you were twenty-seven or twenty-eight,”

And that’s how it’s gone every time. I tell people my age and they seem surprised and generally throw out the same estimation, which is roughly half a decade younger than I am now.

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The weather is creeping above freezing, every day brings just a little more sunlight. We still have a long way to go, but spring is indeed right around the corner.

I’m itching to get out and travel. Some familiar places, but also new ones. I’ve never toured Austin or SF. Would strongly suggest booking well in advance for both.

I’ve never been to Dallas!…

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This one is one of my favorites, reposting in an effort to get someone to take me to see the Knicks (and also the Braves at Citi Field, but that’s a ways away.)

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“There are 7.9 billion people on Earth and my soulmate is out there somewhere,”

That’s not true, or at least not the full story. I don’t subscribe to the “everyone has one single soulmate that they will live in monogamous bliss with for the rest of their life” idea (surprise)…but the rest of that sentence is bullshit too!

We are attracted to (and potentially fall in love with) the people around us. Or at the very least, we are more attracted to the people we have seen with our own eyes (either in person or on a screen) than people we have never seen before. In Psychology these are explained by Mere Exposure Effect, Proximity Effect, Similarity Effect, Elaboration Effect, and there are a few others.

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But the reality is that there aren’t new beginning, not really. You …

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I’m not out about what I do to everyone, but my close friends know. I have a few friends that I’ve known since high school, and in our group, I was always the wholesome one. We like to joke that in our friend group, I was the least likely to become an escort. Life’s funny like that.

When people are looking for a companion, I don’t think “wholesome” is tacked onto any part of that query.

Wholesome. Sometimes the word irks me. Makes me feel cute instead of hot, adorable instead of sexy.

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Washington DC 1/21-23

Boston 2/3-4

Philly 2/11-12

Chicago 2/24-26 (Dear God, please don’t make me regret going to Chicago in February)

If you’d like to see me outside of the few cities I tour to, FMTY is highly encouraged. I do love to travel, and, as always, I’m passport ready. Let’s do something memorable!

Cities I’d love to do a FMTY to in 2026:

New Orleans, Santa Fe, Aspen, San Fransisco, Charleston, Dallas, Seattle, Miami, Las Vegas

I’ve also never had a completed international FMTY. I’d love to make that happen in 2026. (And I’ll tell you the story behind this.) I’m the perfect accomplice to liven up an otherwise boring business trip. I’m an excellent addition to an already exciting vacation.

Date Ideas in NYC

• I’m still dying to go to a Knicks game, and I think you’re dying to take me ;)

• Restaurants at the top of my wishlist: Wild Cherry, Sushi Sho, Muku, Adda, La Tête d’Or, Tatiana

• In my never-ending work to visit or stay at every hotel in NYC, these are on my list: Tribeca Hotel

• I’d also love to do a couple’s spa day. Or if you have a busy work day and can’t make that, it’s also acceptable to send me off to a spa day before reuniting with me at dinner.

• If you have a taste for the opera, I have my eye on tickets to The Magic Flute and Madama Butterfly

• The Miles Davis retrospective at Jazz at Lincoln Center 5/14-16

It also feels like the season for a longer booking! If you’re thinking of booking me for dinner, why not make it an overnight? If you’re thinking of an overnight, why not do 24h or a full weekend? I love when were able to throw the clock away and just enjoy each other’s company.

I originally wrote this over a month ago during the government shut down, but still think it’s relevant to all of 2025.

Uncertainty Tolerance

They changed the bar last minute. It was supposed to be at one place. I had it in my head that it would be at one place, a place that I knew well, a place we all frequented, but turns out that the bar where it was supposed to be was having a private event so they made the last-minute call to change our location to a different bar.

It was one of my friends’ birthdays, and as I have found common in New York, she sent out an invitation of “Come hang out with me on my birthday! We’ll be at this bar from _pm until late. Come whenever you can, stay as long as you want!”

I knew it would be one of those hangouts that is like a looping venn diagram – I know these two people from this one thing and this other person from this other thing and those two groups of people don’t know each other but they both know these other two people who I don’t know, etc. The anticipation of this Venn diagram social gathering filled me with both excitement and apprehension: I’m an introvert who relishes her alone time who is also a social creature who becomes bored and gloomy when I spend too much time alone. When things are in balance, this duality is a boon - adaptable, resilient, independent. When things are out of balance, vacillating wildly between too much and not enough, it puts me off-kilter. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve become better at gauging what I need and when, but it’s more of an art than a science.

And the reality of these group bar hangouts fluctuates wildly between fun and stressful. I’ve been too some where everyone was standing and mingling. Maybe it was on a weekday or a less party-centric part of town so there is no line at the bar, everyone has enough breathing room, you get to talk to enough people for the perfect amount of time. I’ve been to some that activated a claustrophobia that doesn’t exist otherwise. Ones where there were more people than seats so the unlucky stragglers simply loitered around the table at an altitude that made it inconvenient and difficult to carry on conversations with people sitting so you made do with talking to the other standers while dodging other bar attendees and apologizing to the barback in whose commute between bar and back you are clearly right in the middle of.

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I recently told a someone about my job. I try to be particular about who I talk to about what I do with. While I am far from ashamed of my work, privacy and boundaries are very important to me.

“I just don’t understand. Don’t you want it to be special?”

I’ve been thinking about this idea a lot. The idea of sex being “special.” I grew up hearing that too. Sex should be special. But how exactly does that work? How one goes about assuring that every single sexual encounter is special. If you’re waiting until marriage and sex with them isn’t “special,” did you fuck everything up? Is sex for procreation or specialness? Or pleasure? Or to make your husband happy? Or because well I guess all the kids are gone so I guess we should while we have a chance? Or-

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***

“Ahh, sorry I didn’t mean to make this a therapy session,”

I laughed, “You aren’t treating this like a therapy session. We’re just talking,”

While our conversation had become more serious, it wasn’t a burden. We were just talking about our lives which are, if you’ve been keeping score, kinda stressful these days. High alert is our new homeostasis. Every problem is a crisis. Emergency is the rule, not the exception.

The funniest part was this was very similar to therapy. Or like the ideal relationship with therapy.

A therapist’s purpose isn’t fixing people or unlocking hidden memories or predicting the future. They also don’t prescribe medication.

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***

When it comes to the 5 love languages, no one wants to say gifts. Saying that your love language is gifts is like a dog whistle for potential suitors that you’re materialistic, vain, greedy, and shallow. All she cares about is stuff. I disagree.

But I love gifts! Both giving and receiving. Giving gifts is a very natural way for me to express love and care for other people. There’s a lot of reasons why, but at the end of December I finally put my finger on it. When you give someone a gift you are telling them:

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***

If there’s one thing that the pandemic and quarantine taught me it’s that loneliness is a hell of a drug.

I have friends. I have family. I have two really weird pets that are constantly begging for attention. I leave my house regularly to safely run errands. I see clients - both new friends and regulars.

But there’s this viscous separation that now exists between everyone.

For years, everyone has been afraid to touch one another. Afraid to get close. Afraid to be seen getting close. Afraid of being judged, everyone is concerned about the tertiary effect their actions will have on family’s health or their friends’ health or their friends’ family’s health.

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2025 has been a hell of a year, and I have so many people to thank for making it so. Of course the year isn’t done yet. And if you’re reading this thinking “Oh no, I’ve let another year slip by without meet…

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Philly 4/27-28

Washington DC 4/30-5/1

Boston 5/7-8

Chicago 5/19-21

Have a little wiggle room with the dates, so make me an offer I can’t refuse and I’ll see what I can do!

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Inside me there are two wolves:

You might know by now that I grew up extremely Southern Baptist. If there is one thing that Southern Baptists love more than anything, it’s talking about the devil. They love to talk about how evil Satan is, how Satan is in the music that’s on the radio, how he’s in all the TV shows and the movies that are being produced by Hollywood (he’s the Father of Lies, and what is acting but getting paid to lie and fornicate on camera?), tactics that our Adversary might use to lure you away from your walk with the Lord, ways that we can engage in Holy Warfare with The Great Deceiver, etc. etc. I’ve been to some churches that talk about the devil more than they talk about God.

And if there is one thing that every Christian knows, it’s that Halloween is a demonic holiday created by Paganists and Satanists in order to put razor blades and poison into the hands of our children. You think my parents would let us go trick or treating door-to-door out in the streets while our Adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour? You’re out of your fucking mind.

Most churches would do a “fall festival” which was an thinly-veiled attempt to prevent a coup within the nursery/children’s church/youth group because - Satan or no Satan - all the kids knew that October 31st was approaching and that meant candy taxes were motherfucking due. Some churches would still let kids wear costumes. Mine did not.

My parents chilled out on the Halloween hysterics by the time I arrived in high school, but by then trick or treating had lost its luster. I’ve never been trick or treating. I tried to do like the slutty Halloween costume thing in college, but because Halloween hasn’t been a big part of my life, I would always forgot that I needed to plan a costume until the day before the party. I’m pretty sure I was a cat three out of my four years.

And while I Spooky Season™ isn’t in my DNA, you bet your ass that Christian Girl Autumn is. To understand why church going women love autumn so much, you must first know a few things. Where I grew up, you girls had to wear dresses or skirts to church and they had to be modest! Which meant that they were below the bend of the back of your knee. We didn’t even the privilege of a soda can test. If your dress or skirt had a slit in it? Well it better not be higher than the bend of the back of your knee either. And if you were showing any amount of leg, you better be wearing pantyhose. All shirts had to have a sleeve. The collar of your top or dress couldn’t dip down lower than two fingers below your collarbone. And you’re doing your best to abide by all these rules and not complain, but you live in the South where for six months out of the year the heat and humidity make you feel like you’re living inside Satan’s actual mouth. And every Sunday you wake up filled with dread at the layers upon layers of clothes God is asking you to wear. But nevertheless you scale Mount Moriah knowing that God always has a plan. On goes the pantyhose and the dress and the heels and you grab your Bible and your purse and your sweater (in case your dress shows too much of your womanly shape.) You head towards the door knowing that sacrifice lays on the other side of that door. You brace. This is what God wants. And you open the door…and there’s a chill in the air. The proverbial ram caught in the brambles. Life is bearable again. Jehovah-jireh - the Lord will provide.