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Kayden Kross Blog

My day thus far....

Today I flew home to LA (where i officially live as of last week) and immediately set about doing the little errands that need to be done before I fly out of town again tomorrow (or today... it will be tomorrow any minute now). While my day consisted of only small, trite tasks and nothing of any importance actually happened, I somehow have found myself doubting the state of society.

It started with my email. I have a few email accounts. I answer virtually every email I get, including the myspace ones. There is one email address I hold sacred though. I only give it out if I genuinely believe that the person I'm giving it to has a good reason for having it. Well, some random dude decided to do some deep detective work and find it for himself, then proceeded to write me a short essay about why he wants to get into the industry (he worked for an escort service and liked it, he's tall, he likes sex...), and even attached pictures and a little blurb about reading my poetry. I responded with what seemed like the only response one should give in this situation: How did you get my email address?

In the meantime, I skipped off to the post office to get a new PO box because the one I have down in San Diego just isn't cutting it anymore. I waited patiently in line with my 2 government issued IDs and sent text messages to pass the time for thirty minutes. Finally I got to the front of the line and was called forward by a man with a poor sense of English. Having signed up for 2 boxes in the past, I knew the drill. I pulled out my passport and driver's license. I told him what size box I needed. Then the man who couldn't speak his native tongue properly asked me for proof of my new address. He needed me to bring in mail that had been sent there.

me: I don't recieve mail there. Thats why I get PO boxes.

stupid post office man: but I can't give you a box until you bring in mail addressed to yourself.

me: they've never required this before

stupid post office man: its a new security measure

me: all of my mail goes to another PO box.

stupid post office man: we need a physical address

me: why

stupid post office man: so we know that you live somewhere

me: why do you care if I live somewhere? is the default assumption that we are all homeless?

stupid post office man: it's for security reasons. do you have a friend who can sign up for a box for you?

me: so you're telling me that anyone can come in and open a box for anyone else?

stupid post office man: yes

me: that's not very secure

stupid post office man: (beat)... (no answer)

me: this is why government should not run businesses!!

So I stormed home and arranged for someone to mail me a blank piece of paper on the way. I had a new email in my inbox. It was from the previously weird man who dug up my email address. He let me know exactly how and where he got it, and sent directions on how to stalk him as well (just in case?). I felt like this could have been a touching internet bonding moment, like what needy people do when they spill their most intimate details to cyber strangers. I chose not to bite though. I do not need a mutually probing relationship right now. He got another one liner response: but that is not an invitation to email me here

His response later was not nice.

In the spirit of true procrastination, I logged into myspace immediately after. One fellow myspacer had been emailing me a few stupid attempts at an argument (all in good fun), and my response, finally, was that his argument had no internal validity. The whole thing stemmed from a line in my profile: I hate sexual repression.

So, his argument was that I am sexually repressed because I have sex on camera and therefore its not "intimate". Of course there are a million things wrong with that statement but he seemed a bit dull so I went with the obvious one, namely, that I have sex off camera as well. Certainly that would be "intimate". So he responded: No, you're still sexually repressed because you don't enjoy it. And I wrote back something to the effect of "bullshit". I followed up by pointing out that his argument can't get off the ground because it has no internal validity. Good day sir.

And now guess what he's calling me. A whore. How I went from being sexually repressed to being a whore in 2.5 emails is slightly elusive to me. I'm not going to change my assessment of him though. He's a bit dull.

So I went through a few more emails. They were pretty much normal messages from pretty much normal people. There was one that was disconcerting though. He wanted me to tell him who to vote for in the presidential election.

He should vote for me. And I promise, once in office, to put an extreme amount of effort into taking away the voting rights of people like him. Is it scary that there are people out there who will vote based on what a pornstar on myspace tells them to do? I think so.




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