Rites Of Ass-age: Mercury Retrograde Is a Bitch

It’s Tuesday of Folsom week, 2015. Every year I look forward to this weekend, as several friends of mine and I consider it “Gay Christmas” — an event around which many friends from across the country flock to San Francisco to play kinky dress-up, go to parties, and let their hair down. It is a sexually explorative weekend, and every year is full of surprises. It’s like summer camp in the city, and the adventure is always unexpected and wonderful. You just never know where you’ll end up, at any time, day or night.

Tonight, I’m in a hotel in Las Vegas, having finished filming a scene for Raging Stallion’s Hard Friction merely hours ago, my first with director Steve Cruz in nearly six months. Other facts about this week: I’ve been waiting to hear from a loverfriend whether or not he tested positive for an STI, to know how I should move forward myself, the iPhone’s new iOS 9 came out in all its glitchy glory, leaving my Twitter and Periscope useless, I had more of a party weekend than I probably should have considering the shoot today and Folsom weekend ahead, the relationship situation I have found myself in has muddied its communication lately, and while I was mid-shoot today I discovered that a series of unfortunate events ended up leaving my living situation in San Francisco with a big, scary question-mark.

Now here I am, treating myself in the hotel bar with a martini, waiting for a sandwich, and realizing something I hate myself for even thinking: Mercury is in retrograde. When people would talk about Mercury being in retrograde, I would roll my eyes a bit and say “Instead of blaming Mercury, maybe this is an opportunity to look deeper into your own bullshit.” Several friends have retorted in the past, saying that in terms of technology and communication the Mercury retrograde thing is no joke.

The shoot today, for all intents and purposes, ended up going fairly well despite a few things going against it. The scene partner was sweet and handsome, though not entirely my type, and had much trouble with English. He apologized with his adorable accent repeatedly, and made up for it with his enthusiasm and his professionalism. My boner was moodier than I expected, and I may have lost about ten pounds in sweat during the course of the scene. Steve and I only snapped at each other once, not something that happens usually, though we were able to recover from it like pros, finish up, and address it swiftly and like adults afterwards.

The scene was finally over, I loaded up on snacks from the kitchen so that I didn’t feel like I needed to leave my hotel before waking up to get on the return flight, and came back to the hotel to sit down with the packaged salad I’d been waiting to eat for four hours.

Adam at Folsom 2015.
Adam at Folsom 2015.
The bottom line here is, I’m feeling miserable. This is Folsom week, and I feel so lost and alone, and I want to post on my social media apps about how I’m feeling this way, but I can’t even do that. Because of the position I have found myself in my life at the moment, it would be a selfish move to post about my feelings instead of post something to promote one of the many events I’ll be a part of the rest of this week. How strange. I’ve become less a person and more a personality on my various social media outlets, and my entire point this year has been to successfully blend the two.

Well, I’m not done trying. I can’t be a star in this business if I let shit like this get to me. Fuck you, Mercury. I’m calling a meeting with the pups to sort out communication. I’m calling a meeting with the roommates so we can get this shit sorted. Folsom will be what it is, always – an unpredictable mess of fun. Let’s do this.

Two weeks later: I’m on an airplane with one of the pups, heading back home from Maui, to San Jose, after a few days in Honolulu (work) and Maui (play), pushing it with this delayed departure (hello, we missed our plane to SFO yesterday by literally two minutes), as the two of us have to book it from San Jose to San Francisco in order to make it just in time for our Man Francisco burlesque show — an evening we’d promised not to miss. We are expecting the uber car to make it outside the venue no less than five minutes before show time, giving us time to slam down some water, get dressed, and hit the stage.

The past two weeks have included, intermittently, some of the greatest joy I’ve felt as well as some of the most excruciating relationship and personal despair. The trick about being in this position — working in the psych field, balancing that with parties, porn shoots, and alternative expressions of love — is that it is often fun, at times frustrating, and a constant reminder that we are “doing things differently.”

It’s this reminder that I need every once in a while to, at first, shake me to the core and make me anxious about the choices I’ve made, before I remember that they are, in fact, the CHOICES I’VE MADE. A lifestyle like this isn’t handed to you, and then you say “Oh great, let’s just manage this for a while.” We work for this, and then it becomes a practice. Like going to the gym, or dealing properly with stupid people.

Folsom was a lot of work and a lot of fun, the week following was playing catch up before a couple of the boys and I were flown to Hawaii to work a couple parties for friends of ours who asked us to join them at their new club in Honolulu.

I am learning that managing not only your own emotions but the emotions of your loved ones is particularly difficult during a time of such unconventional busy-ness. I came close to throwing in the towel so many times, but have found myself in this weird place, on a plane to a city I know nothing about, with only hope on my side that we will make this show and I will recoup some of the financial losses of the weekend via tips.

Mercury is out of retrograde in a couple days. Juggling responsibilities can bring out your vulnerable side, which can make you come across as needy, uncaring, resentful, and weak if you’re not careful. The only things we have left that will pull us out of these ruts are communication, patience, and gratitude.

Luckily, what I will remember from these past two weeks won’t be the hell of missing flights, of feeling misunderstood, of feeling less than, of the hit my self-esteem took, or of almost losing my apartment, etc. I instead will remember the joy, the sex, the good fortune, the love, and the thrilling danger of all the shit I get myself up to these days, as well as the opportunity to take what I can from all the negative shit that happened and learn from them. Let’s keep our hearts and minds open, remain grateful for what we’ve got, give back to the universe where we can, and crush the rest of 2015.

And watch out for Mercury. It can be a real bitch.

Previously: ADAM RAMZI ON THE RIDICULOUS RENTBOY RAID AND THE FUTURE OF SEX WORK

11 thoughts on “Rites Of Ass-age: Mercury Retrograde Is a Bitch”

  1. Pay no attention to the haters, Adam. You can be a bit vague at times with your writing. But, Damn, you are sexy and a star. This one cares a lot.

  2. Can we please stop with the Adam writings please. This is all stupid crap. Please sword I’m begging stop publishing this crap.

  3. Thanks Adam for talking like a real person with real life issues. It takes a strong man to be vulnerable like that when many won’t understand anything but a porn persona.

  4. OMG. Make it stop. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so alone if he actually had relationships with people that involved more than sex. “Ive been waiting to hear from a loverfriend whether he tested positive or not for an STI, so that I will know how to move forward myself.” He has to fuck on film, he has to have a sex weekend in San Fran, he has to fly to Hawaii for sex parties… And that Mercury Retro feeling is bullshit crap for not having anything meaningful besides the sex and the social media profiles. Put it away and get to know your friends and yourself for a bit.

  5. Oh my GOD, is it that slow over there that you guys have to publish this crap from a mediocre porn model. Please stir with the Adam Ramzi 3rd grade writings.

  6. How to tell a basic bitch #485: they talk about mercury being in retrograde. It’s on par with ordering a pumpkin spice latte.

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