In a few weeks, I’ll be teaching a course at Portland Underground Graduate School with my favorite co-teacher, Gretchen Leigh. It’s called Sex Skills Bootcamp, and it welcomes adults from all backgrounds, experience levels, and relationship structures to explore their erotic curiosities, boost body confidence, deepen relational skills, and unleash their bedroom prowess.
You can see the full class description by clicking here. It’s a 4 week course, which Gretchen and I have never taught before, and we are thrilled to have 8 whole hours in which to pack tons of sex education and live demos! We’ll cover everything from communication and consent to hand skills, oral sex skills, and kink. We even have some very entertaining roleplaying scenarios ready for you.
Friends & fans – use these money saving codes:
WELOVESHEBOP = 10% off the course
YOUVEGOTAFRIEND = 20% off when you sign up with a pal or partner!
I hope to see you there — please let your friends know, too! These will be some of my final workshops before I go on maternity leave. <3
This vulnerable post was originally published on my Patreon page. A few updates have been added to keep this current. Please visit my Patreon for even more updates about my life and how this news will be impacting my sex ed career!
A few days after the first of November, I started feeling really dizzy and tired. I called my doctor, but she was out of the office that week, so I set up an appointment with the new physician’s assistant. He asked me all of the usual questions, took my blood pressure (which was mega low), took my temperature (which was slightly high, but normal), and had me pee in a cup and get some blood work done. He said that if the news was normal/healthy, I would just get the results in my online chart. If anything came up, he would call.
Content note: Things are about to get very personal.
8:00 the next morning, my phone rang. I was in bed sleeping next to my partner. We are not morning people, but I managed to answer by the third ring.
Physician’s assistant (PA): Hello, is this AJ?
Me: Yes, this is AJ. (I was suddenly struck with anxiety remembering that a phone call – especially one at 8 in the morning – meant something was not normal with my test results.)
PA: Are you sitting? I have some news for you.
Me: <trying not to panic> I’m in bed still. 8am is early for me. What’s up?
At this point I assume I am going to be told I have cancer, or maybe an STI. My partner and I had been having unprotected sex with each other for nearly two years, and we each had one or two other regular sex partners. We were strict about safer sex with others, but as an educator, I know that sometimes things happen even when condoms are involved. Truthfully, I crossed my fingers for gonorrhea. At least that was an easy one to treat.
What was said next though, was a sentence I had come to believe I would never hear.
PA: AJ, you’re pregnant.
<long silence of disbelief>
Me: Um, I think there may have been a mixup in the lab. Remember how we talked about my infertility and how I tried for four years? I can’t get pregnant.
PA: Well, I am almost certain this was not a mixup. Maybe a miracle? Why don’t you come back in today to confirm through a blood test?
AJ: Yeah, okay. I’ll be there in an hour. Is it okay if I bring my partner?
PA: I think that’s a great idea. This is big news.
As soon as I hung up the phone I started saying “ohmygodohmygod” and shaking my boyfriend awake.
Me: Babe. Oh My God. Wake up. It’s important.
BF: <mumbles and tries to go back to sleep>
Me: No! Wake up! I need you. I’M PREGNANT.
BF: <shoots up, now wide awake> WHAT?! HOLY FUCK.
Fast forward to the clinic. They get me in right away for another urine test and an hCG blood test. We wait what seems like hours for the results, but it was really only a few minutes. My partner can’t sit still, but I am convinced someone will walk into the exam room and apologize for a mistake in the lab.
I tried for years to conceive with my ex husband. We went through dozens of medical tests, hundreds of ovulation strips, boxes and boxes of pregnancy tests that were always negative no matter what we did. We had been on special fertility diets, used expensive lube that was supposed to help bridge the semen with the cervical mucus to increase odds of conception. We had spent thousands of dollars we couldn’t afford to try and make my dreams of motherhood come true. I had even taken fertility shots and had my ovulation perfectly matched with science for an intrauterine insemination in 2014. Still, nothing.
I had given up on the idea of pregnancy and childbirth. My identity was now as a sex educator, comedic storyteller, and polyamorous divorcée who was barren and embracing an adventurous childfree life.
I thought maybe one day I would foster or adopt, but I was certainly in no position to do that any time soon in my tiny basement apartment, barely making a living wage.
But the PA came back into the room holding a bunch of pamphlets and a very official looking clipboard. He handed me a print off from the lab.
PA: The results are conclusive. You are pregnant.
I don’t really remember what happened after that or how my partner responded. I think we just sort of half listened to what the nurses and PA told us, took the pamphlets, and left in a daze.
I was definitely in shock. Not only did I think I was forever infertile, but I hadn’t even missed my period yet. My period tracking app said I was supposed to start my period the next day…but the next day my blood hCG results came in and showed I was at least 5 weeks along.
I wanted to be happy and excited, but I still didn’t think it was real. Or maybe I tried to tell myself not to get my hopes up because miscarriages are common, especially for someone with a history of infertility and unexplained health problems.
However, it became very real within a few days of the news, when I woke up one morning with an uncontrollable urge to vomit. I spent that day stuck in the bathroom and couldn’t keep down any food or water.
I called my doctor and she recommended saltines by my bedside, sucking on sour candies for morning sickness, drinking ginger tea, staying away from strong smells, and getting out of bed slowly in the morning. I tried all of those things and a whole lot more, but my body wasn’t having it. My “morning sickness” was an all day spew fest. It went on like that for multiple days and I had to get admitted to the ER because I couldn’t even keep down water or the anti-nausea meds they prescribed.
I was diagnosed with Hyperemesis gravidarum – a condition characterized by severe nausea, vomiting, weight loss, and electrolyte disturbance during pregnancy. I would continue to experience this condition for another 8 weeks. Early in the first trimester, on my best days, I could work from home next to the toilet for an hour or two and keep down plain crackers and ginger beer. When things were at their worst, I was throwing up 30+ times a day and unable to move more than a few inches. If I was having a very good day, I was able to leave my house for appointments and grocery shopping, but I felt horrible at all times and had to carry around my own personal barf bag.
My biggest and most badass achievement during those first few weeks was when I parallel parked my van with one hand while using my other hand to hold a plastic bag up to my mouth to catch my vomit.
I eventually started to come around. I haven’t thrown up in a couple of weeks but am still prone to dehydration and moodiness. I am constantly hungry but feel relieved about having any sort of appetite again.
Now that I am in my second trimester, I’m very much looking forward to eating for two and getting extra pickles on everything (which I have done for years anyway, but now people will think it’s cute instead of just weird).
When I first heard the heartbeat, I cried. It was really real. When my partner and I saw the baby move and squirm and wave on a screen, we both shouted things like, “Ah! Fuck! Whoa!” Fortunately, the technician was understanding and laughed along at our amazement.
I have had three ultrasounds at this point. We had a little bit of a scare with the second one looking abnormal, but so far everything seems to be going well (as far as we can tell). We do need to get a fetal echo to check baby’s heart just to be on the safe side, so fingers crossed everything is healthy.
The doctor told us last Friday what kind of genitals our baby has, but we will not be sharing that info with the public or even with friends. We know that a penis does not automatically equal a boy and a vulva does not automatically equal a girl, so we’re not going to be talking about the sex of the child with others. I have seen how early the gender stereotypes and restrictions start, and I am hoping to avoid that for as long as possible. Hopefully until our kiddo is old enough to let us know for themselves if they are a girl, boy, or neither.
Since I was so sick in the first trimester, I haven’t been able to work much. That means the podcast has been on hiatus and will probably remain on pause until March 2018, after all of the Valentine’s events of February have passed. I do have a lot of work coming up this month though, and am looking forward to getting back out there and teaching.
I am not sure whether this pregnancy qualifies as a miracle, magic, or just plain randomness in a wacky world. Whatever the reason, I’m excited and terrified and know my year is going to be very unlike any year I’ve ever had. Can’t wait to meet my mini Moosh in July!
Sex on the Road – Best friends,Amory Jane and Amari Indigo, record from their hotel room at the Central Ohio Perversion Excursion. They talk about what it’s like to be a demo bottom/stunt cock (for a fellatio class), demisexuality, being “delicate fucking flowers,” different relationship labels and styles, unicorn hunting, libido, the frustrations and conveniences of modern dating, and the importance of human touch.
About a third of my Facebook feed today is filled with #420 memes and statuses and another third is filled with people who are annoyed by people who are into weed.
For most of my life, I was in the latter group. Most stoners I knew growing up were trashy white boys who listened to Sublime, made jokes about Funyuns, and mocked me for being a straight A student. In my younger brain, I thought pretty much all stoners were lazy, and probably also smelled like skunk. However, after cannabis was legalized in Oregon, it was suggested I use some for my chronic pain, mood disorder, and nausea. So, I tried some. Sure enough, it made me feel a whole lot better.
I had been taking pills for pain, which sometimes made me feel like a zombie (and made my nausea worse). I used to drink booze multiple times a week to help with anxiety, but I’d feel terrible later, and it honestly made me way moodier overall. Discovering the healing that cannabis could offer me, and realizing I had no negative side effects the next day and I didn’t even have to smoke if I didn’t want to (hooray for edibles and oil!) was actually life-changing.
I also discovered other types of weed lovers too — high femmes, successful stoners, chronic pain warriors, cancer survivors, and everyday people who used it to help themselves feel better about their bodies, sex, stress, etc. Yes, there are still plenty of smelly slacker stoners out there, but I’ve grown to appreciate cannabis culture. I love that anywhere I go where people are smoking weed, they’ll invite me into their circle and share both their cannabis and their stories freely.
I love that when I’m high I am in love with myself and my brain and my body (which, when I am sober, I struggle to appreciate). I love that cannabis has helped me work through trauma without shutting down, helped me make new friends easily, and truly helped my career by allowing me to have less pain and anxiety so I can accomplish more. It’s also made me hear songs in brand new ways, taste foods more intensely, and helped me process two back to back heartbreaks that surely would have crushed me a few years ago.
So, yes, I recognize that this “holiday” is completely goofy and maybe even obnoxious to a bunch of folks. But for lots of us, it is a day to celebrate that we have a plant that helps us more easily handle all the bullshit life can throw our way. For me, I use cannabis not as a way to escape, but as a way to become more connected — to myself and to others. I use it to let my overactive and frequently worried mind have some moments of solace. I use it to zone in on relaxing and relieving parts of my body that are chronically tense or in pain. I use it as a social lubricant, a libido booster, and a creativity booster.
I am outraged that so many people, most especially POC, have been sent to prison (or worse) for buying, selling, or possessing weed. I am sad that cannabis is still not legal in many places where I know it would help many members of the population. I’m frustrated by restrictive laws and ridiculous punishments. I know I am lucky to live in Oregon and be able to travel easily to Washington, so that I can enjoy cannabis legally and safely. I wish and hope that one day everyone will have access if they need it. Until then, I’ll keep being a vocal and passionate supporter of cannabis rights, decriminalization, and reparations for communities that have been disproportionately affected by America’s War on Drugs.
To all who celebrate – whether you celebrate sincerely, humorously, with a heavy heart/conscious mind, or every damn day – Happy 420!
Episode 12: A Visit from The Mystery Box Show Reba Sparrow and Eric Scheur from The Mystery Box Show visit the studio and talk with Amory Jane about sex-centric storytelling. We hear how their show began and how it’s evolved, chat about vulnerability, clowns, and “celebrities” as storytellers, and get tips on how to tell our own sex stories well.
Read this heartwarming, sexy, sweet little personal essay written by our very own magical intern (Intern Courtney) for Autostraddle! It’s about her experiences with our Femme Sex Coven (also featured in Episode 9 of our podcast, Sex on the Brain with Amory Jane)!
This made me cry happy tears. So much love for my intern and friend, Courtney, for my community, and for all of the witchy wonderful femmes out there! <3
Episode 9: Live from the Femme Sex Party! Okay, I admit that live is a tad misleading. While Intern Courtney and I did throw a femme sex party and recorded it, we decided against broadcasting live. It was a very intimate night and we wanted to allow that to unfold naturally, without having to feel anxious about having a live audience. But don’t worry my precious listeners, we share plenty of real intimacy, sexy noises, and unedited audio straight from the party.
SPOILER ALERT: This episode ends with me having an orgasm. NSFW.
Our sixth episode is on the topic of polyamory – the practice of having more than one romantic relationship at a time with the knowledge and consent of everyone involved. This episode features candid and personal conversations between Amory Jane and her guests (Kevin Patterson ofPoly Role Modelsand educatorAnnamarie Stockwell), from one polyamorous person to another. They talk about the real pros and cons of ethical non-monogamy, the heartbreaks, and how others have reacted to their non-traditional relationship styles. They also talk about intersectionality in polyamory (and about how intersectional feminism is often lacking in the media and polyamory communities in general).
Now that things are settling down after the end of my tour, moving into a new home, and my hit and run accident, I’m excited to share details about my time at kink camp!
Boundless is a four-day kink retreat located at a beautiful private resort about 2.5 hours north of San Francisco. Boundless 2016 took place September 30-October 3 and I was lucky enough to be awarded a scholarship to attend. My partner, Matias, also joined me there (and it was his first time going to a kink camp as well).
I first heard about Boundless when we received some of their promotional posters/fliers at She Bop. I had missed a few kinky camp out events earlier in the summer when I was traveling the country in my sex ed mobile, so I was glad to see something scheduled for early Fall when I was at the end of my tour. The Boundless website said that the cost was $335 for the full weekend and covered all meals and workshops, which didn’t seem like a bad price. Still, it was out of my budget, especially if my partner and I were both going to attend, so I almost just closed my laptop and moved on… until I noticed something in fine print about offering a scholarship for sex educators.
Good thing I got my eyes lasered to perfection in 2009 and can read the tiny font at the bottom of a website.
I sent an email to the organizer, James, asking him about the scholarship application, and he sent back a friendly response encouraging me to apply. I answered a few questions in essay format (I always nailed the essay portion of my tests in school) and was feeling pretty good about my chances of being accepted. Sure enough, James got back to me a few days later offering me the scholarship, which covered all costs of the retreat, including a camping spot! He even said I was the exact candidate they were hoping would apply. Sweet!
When the time came to head to camp, I made sure to pack everything I thought I would need: a tent and lots of blankets, condoms, lube, edibles, a couple of my favorite sex toys, and lingerie. I also overpacked cute summer camp clothes and underpacked clothes that would keep me warm, which means I ended up spending the majority of the time in one pair of fleece-lined leggings and an extremely unsexy sweater. Next time I will remember that California + “summer camp” does not equal warm and dry. I mean, it was October and we were north of San Francisco, (and I’m always cold), so I should really have known I couldn’t survive only wearing a corset and my Sasha harness. Plenty of other people there managed to be comfortable in their kinkiest costumes, sexiest lingerie, and completely nude though. Maybe handling cold temperatures with a smile is a special skill reserved for masochists, which I very much confirmed I wasn’t over the course of that weekend.
More on that later.
Matias and I spent a good portion of our drive to the retreat discussing our boundaries, desires, and concerns. We both wanted to primarily play with each other but were open to making connections, we wanted to learn/practice new skills, and we wanted to sample kinky things we hadn’t yet had a chance to try. We had been to plenty of play parties, BDSM events, kink nights, munches, and sex workshops during our 2+ years together, but never an overnight camp or a multi-day event that wasn’t a conference. I had also attended sex clubs and swingers parties while in a previous relationship and am part of a femme coven, so I love kinky spaces and feel comfortable with consensual sex happening all around me. Still, a kink retreat would be a new experience and neither of us really knew what to expect.
After a long (but beautiful) Autumn drive through Southern Oregon and Northern California, we found ourselves driving alongside a large freshwater lake called Clear Lake. We knew we were close and speculated what kind of welcoming committee would be at the camp. Would people already be walking around naked or clad in latex and leather? Would we show up presenting as the most vanilla people there? Turns out, we were fairly accurate with our hypotheses. As we pulled in, there were some people hanging out wearing little to no clothing, some people in Boundless crop tops, and one gentleman wearing stilettos that were chained together and a very frilly tutu. We were in hoodies and jeans with beanies on our heads. We looked very much like we were from Oregon. Still, we were greeted with a wave and a smile and the volunteers helped us figure out where to park our car and set up camp.
After putting up our tent, we went into the main lodge for dinner. There were at least 50 other people there, from all walks of life, and most of them were already sitting down to eat. Meatloaf and veggies were on the main menu, along with vegan options and gluten free pasta. The food all weekend was really good, and they always had snacks available. As a person who needs to eat every few hours, it was a relief, and it helped me stay fueled for all of the workshops and sex adventures. While we mostly took in everything around us and kept to ourselves during dinner, we got out of our shells more during the opening address and formal mocktail party. Matias and I volunteered to walk around with drink trays and offer tasty beverages to attendees, which took me back to my days as a cocktail server, except for that instead of serving hipsters at a karaoke dive bar, this time I was serving kinksters in their finest fetish gear. I also helped get a sexy lady into her corset, which I had never done before, and it turns out it is only sort of like lacing up a pair of boots. Definitely more tugging and gasping and overflowing cleavage. It wasn’t an easy task for a first timer, but I have zero complaints.
After the opening address, which included info about the weekend and a talk about consent and dungeon rules, Sinclair Sexsmith presented a fun and interactive icebreaking workshop called Flirting Dirty. We got to practice being turned down and saying no, negotiating boundaries, and asking folks if they wanted to play. I was paired up with the stranger sitting in front of me, who had a completely opposite flirting style, and that was sort of eye opening. He was telling me about how he’ll just say hello and start a nice mild conversation that is not at all sexually charged, and I appreciated his low pressure approach. However, it was in stark contrast to my approach, which is usually more like, “We seem to be checking each other out, which is cool. I really like your nose and I would be down to ride your face if you’re interested.”
That was only the beginning of eye opening things I discovered and/or reaffirmed about myself that weekend.
After the flirting event, Matias and I stayed in the Heart Lodge as they transformed it into the dungeon/play space. Multiple spanking benches, sex swings, St Andrew’s Crosses, rope suspension areas, massage tables, and mattresses for the floor were set out. There were also towels, wet wipes, condoms, gloves, and extra sheets. Hooray for a well-equipped dungeon!
We spent most of that first night hanging back and observing. We snuggled and made out on a floor mat while watching people get whipped, tied up, and fucked. We talked about what turned us on, what didn’t seem like our cup of tea, and what we were curious about trying. We listened to the sounds of a woman riding a Sybian while giving her partner a blowjob, watched some artful Florentine flogging, and took in all of the hedonism that filled the room. Eventually we realized that we were exhausted from the long drive, and went back to our tent to have a quickie and pass out for the night.
I slept on an under-inflated air mattress and woke up in the middle of the night to baby deer prancing around on the tarp right outside of our tent (which was adorable, but kind of scary to hear at first, since we were in the woods also surrounded by bears). Still, even with a bad night of sleep, I woke up on time for breakfast and attended a workshop called “How to Be a Successful Male Submissive.” I found myself nodding my head on most things, disagreeing on a few points here and there, and generally daydreaming of a harem situation where an assortment of submissive men serve me and worship my body whenever I snap my fingers.
That first workshop put enough ideas in my head that I decided to skip the second one to go back to the tent with my boyfriend. After a few orgasms, we fell asleep and accidentally napped through lunch. Fortunately, we woke up with enough time to find leftovers before the next session. That session was the Heart Centered Needle Pull and it seemed to be getting a lot of attention around camp from nervous but curious attendees who wanted to know what it was like to be pierced in the chest and connected to a pulling cord while ecstatic frenzy was being whipped up all around us. The Boundless website describes the Heart Centered Needle Pull like this:
Join a community ritual to open our heart centers and bring us closer together as mindful individuals. Facilitated by Fakir Musafar and Cleo Dubois, variations of this ritual have been used for centuries by Native Americans (the Sun Dance) and other cultures as a way to develop mind/body awareness and connection with others.
The ritual consists of an invocation and invitation for traditional sources of spirit and our own higher selves to join us in creating an ecstatic state. Each participant will be safely pierced in their heart Chakra with two small needles by Fakir or Cleo and attached by a sterilized cord to a common point. Music, chanting and drumming will then propels us to ecstasy. Sound interesting?
If you join this ritual you will be guided every step of the way by experts who have facilitated this ritual for over 30 years in the USA, Canada, England, Portugal, and Italy.
We were “cleansed” with sage as we walked through the doorway into the dungeon, which had been converted again into a new type of space. This time there was a horizontal pole in the center of the room with many cords hanging from it, a very large suspended gong, and tables filled with unopened boxes of sterile gloves and needles. We took off our shoes and found a seat, facing a person who appeared to be in his late sixties (it was Fakir Musafar and it turns out he is 87). Then, after everyone else finished walking through the door, Cleo joined Fakir at the front and they proceeded to tell us about the history of the ritual and what to expect.
Matias was definitely nervous, but I was feeling incredibly calm about the whole thing. Piercing has never bothered nor scared me and I had read enough to know about the possible risks and about the incredible strength of human skin. I was ready.
We stood in line and waited our turn to get pierced. Fakir was using hooks on the more advanced campers and Cleo was piercing those of us who were new to the ritual with 22 gauge needles. With each new participant, she had an assistant help her put on a fresh pair of gloves and she would pinch the skin (above the breasts, below the collarbone) and slide the needles through. On my turn I took a deep breath and looked at Cleo’s face as she pierced me. The first needle went through perfectly but the second one went through a little too easily and poked her finger as it came out of the other side. She immediately started gushing blood, even through the gloves, and I could tell this was something that didn’t usually happen. I felt bad that she was hurt, but I wasn’t freaked out, and it didn’t have any sort of negative impact on my piercing experience. After getting cleaned up and bandaged, she put a small carabiner at the end of my string loop and I felt the weight of it gently pull at my skin. Matias was pierced next (he did really well), and then we walked together to the room’s center point to connect our carabiners to the hanging cords that we would use to pull ourselves.
Music swelled around me, the smell of incense was strong in the air, there were people (who weren’t pierced) drumming and dancing, and the rest of us (who were pierced) were leaning back with the skin on our chests stretched out. It was like a mini suspension, but both feet were on the ground, and as the music grew faster and louder, many of my fellow campers started having stronger responses. Some had their eyes rolling back in ecstasy, some were swaying to the music or testing their bodies. A couple of people were crying in a way that you could tell they were releasing something more than just tears. I pulled harder and focused on the feeling, hoping to also feel something powerful or release grief, but I couldn’t feel any adrenaline running through me. All I felt was a tugging, a very literal tugging. It wasn’t a bad feeling by any means, but no matter what I did, my body just stayed very neutral and I didn’t feel anything strong or spiritual. I even unhooked from the main point after a while and hooked my carabiner to Matias’ carabiner and had us both pull back and stare into each other’s eyes. Matias kept breaking eye contact when his eyes would roll back into head, but it still felt very bonding, very novel and was a unique experience to share. However, I admit I was slightly disappointed that my body just wouldn’t get into the intense energy around me. Empath-types are supposed to feel all of the energies, right? – that’s what normally happens to me in crowds – but this time I just felt the most basic sensations in my body without any sort of energy rush. It was curious, and not the only time something like that happened to me that weekend.
My favorite part of the ritual was when a percussionist was dominating the room with the sounds of the hammered gong and Cleo was going around and whacking our tautly pulled strings with a cane so that the vibrations were sent into our chests. She also used a vibrating sex toy against the strings for the same purposes, and I enjoyed the rumbling and shaking sensation. Of course I did. Because I love vibration in pretty much all of the ways it comes to me.
I also enjoyed coming down after the ritual, watching people sort of float back into their bodies and then have their needles removed. Matias and I were some of the last to have our needles taken out, and the twenty minutes or so that we sat quietly waiting for that to happen were some of the best moments of the afternoon for me. Hearing about what the experience was like for him and watching his eyes light up as he talked about it made me feel very happy that I was attending Boundless with a partner. Even if my body has a hard time with adrenaline production or I am sometimes too much of a control freak to stop my observation mode and fully let myself go, at least I was experiencing new things, learning a lot, and feeling closer to someone I loved.
That night in the dungeon, Matias and I were both flogged (at separate times) on a St. Andrew’s cross by a trained professional with a very extensive set of hitting implements. There were leather floggers made from different animal hides (deer, elk, rabbit, buffalo, etc.), skinny whips, rubber toys, and a few items I had never seen in person. It was an impressive collection…but you’ll have to wait to hear about our flogging adventures in a future post.
My First Time at Kink Camp: Part 2 will be all about our second and third nights in the dungeon, what it’s like to be on edibles at a kink retreat, what I learned about mental health at the workshops I took on day 3, and my newfound love for sex swings. Stay tuned!
Amory Jane is currently at a kink retreat called Boundless and will be returning to Portland (and this blog) on October 5th. Since she is off learning new things to teach at her future classes, getting to know some needles, gazing at the stars, and frolicking/flogging in the woods, she hasn’t had reliable access to the internet to post any updates. So, I am here to deliver some deets to you! Here’s what’s up:
– St. Edna the Sex Ed Mobile is very sick. Amory Jane and her travel companions were driving back into Portland when Edna started making very weird noises. Her engine died suddenly on the side of the highway just 20 minutes outside of Portland and she had to get towed away by AAA. Fortunately, the team made it back to Portland and Edna didn’t shut down on top of a mountain or in the middle of the desert or something. Unfortunately, Edna has complete engine failure and will need some expensive repairs. AJ is still weighing all of her options, but is considering launching a campaign and/or throwing a sex-positive fundraising event to get Edna back out on the road. In the meantime, AJ is traveling the country in a much smaller (but equally cute) sex ed mobile – her purple Honda Fit.
– Amory Jane has some rad classes coming up this Fall, including a new one on Sex and Cannabis! There might even be some free cannabis lube samples in it for you! Details can be found on the She Bop website.
– Amory Jane will be traveling through California this November and still has a little bit of room left in her schedule. If you would like to book a workshop, private party, or coaching session in that time, give her a shout! Her dates in California are early to mid-November and she will be visiting the Bay Area, Los Angeles, and everywhere nearby and in-between.
– Yes, AJ did get the donuts she asked for. She put it out into the universe and it came to her (and by that I mean her intern dutifully got them for her).
I don’t know about you, but I am SO stoked for what the future has to hold! Stay tuned to the blog for detailed accounts of Amory Jane’s final few days of her recent teaching tour, St. Edna’s prognosis, and tales from kink camp!