Holly of HollyRandall.com writes
The next day is my actual panel, and in true I’m-on-vacation-and-I-have-jet-lag fashion, I sleep until almost noon. My panel is at 4 but I’m meeting with the other members of the panel an hour beforehand, to go over what on earth we’re supposed to talk about. I meet Jerry Barnett, owner of Strictly Broadband, the biggest VOD site in the UK. It’s really interesting to discuss the differences between porn in the UK and the US. For example, did you know that even though hardcore porn was only legalized in 2000, prostitution is legal in the UK?
So our panel starts, and joining us is a man who works in the music business, but as he actually suggested the panel, he did a lot of "research" on porn. Even though he admitted that he enjoyed his "learning experience", the points he brought up showed me that he really did have a vested professional interest in adult entertainment, even though he might’ve been getting his rocks off on the side. Just goes to prove that not all research has to be boring!
Surprisingly enough, I’m completely nervous about doing this panel. I’ve done several panels at home, at porn events, with "my people". But I’m at a mainstream event, with non-porn people (civilians, as we call them in porn-talk). For the first time in my life, I feel a little judged. Back home, I’m the sweet "Pollyanna" of porn, but here, they probably just view me as a sleazy pornographer. Or do they? I can’t tell, because the room is packed and people look very serious, like they’ve actually come to hear me talk about something of grave importance. I had no idea that one day things I have to say about my career could actually be considered important. The panel goes well, though I’m happy to let the guys do most of the talking. I don’t really know how to draw the parallels between the music industry and my sordid little world, since we rely on that "impulse buy", where a guy purchases a membership to my website because he’s got a raging hard on and he wants to see the rest of whatever teaser attracted him to my site in the first place. You can’t really say that music inspires the same "desperate need" that porn does. But I do my best by suggesting band-created websites that charge a low annual fee, and in exchange give the fans direct access to them through blogging, behind the scenes outtakes, and exclusive first listen to new songs, or remixes of older ones. I hope something I say if of some use to these people.
After the panel, I’m interviewed by a couple of different groups, but I’ve had so much caffeine (I blame the endless pots of tea) that I’ve got a raging headache. I go to my room and lie down. After a few hours of napping, Tom calls me and says Yvette Livesey (the owner and founder of ITC) is taking a bunch of us out to dinner. Yvette is sweet, successful, and downright gorgeous– possibly the perfect woman? I know I’m jealous, so she’s got to have it all. And she pays for it all too– about 20 of us had a fantastic meal at a very expensive restaurant, and she picked up the tab. I don’t even want to know what the total ran, but I know it must’ve been in the thousands (I mean dollars, when you convert the British pound, which in itself is depressing).
Afterward everyone wants to go out and drink and watch all the bands who are in town for this conference play. But I’m tired again, and honestly I can’t really sit in a pub all night. I haven’t been out on my own in a foreign country, and especially not since I’ve been sober. Everyone keeps offering me drinks, and they seem puzzled when I say no. Britain is a big drinking culture, and this used to be one of my favorite places to drink. There’s nothing I liked more than having a Stella straight from the tap at a authentic, old-fashioned pub. But I know those days are behind me, and if I picked up a drink again, it wouldn’t be the way it used to be. I wouldn’t have the kind of fun it seemed that everyone else is having around me. I’d drink way too fast (and feel terrible about picking up again), black out, and wake up the next morning with a hangover and that awful feeling that I did something terribly embarrassing last night, but I won’t remember anything. So it’s best I bow out gracefully, and early, so I can come back to my hotel room, get a second wind, and blog all damn night.
I leave for Scotland on a morning train tomorrow, so I’m going to try and get some sleep now. I’m now going to a country with nobody to (not) meet me at the airport, and nobody to take me out to dinners and live shows. To be honest, I’m a little nervous. But hopefully that will dissipate in the excitement of seeing a new and beautiful place. This time tomorrow I’ll be in Edinburgh, and hopefully by this time tomorrow I’ll actually be sleeping!
