One would assume I'd never traveled before by the situation I found myself in while visiting Boston. No hotel room. No available hotel rooms in Boston.

The truth is, it had been the day from hell. A late start compounded by a brief situation involving a police officer while speeding down the Thruway and to top it off, missing my exit and adding at least 45 minutes onto my already long commute. When I finally arrived in Boston and found I had no place to stay, it was truly the icing on the cake.

A phone call and a latte paired with excellent conversation later, I found myself at another friend's home settling in for a night on the sofa. With the dog. The following day, I had business to take care of so turning around and heading home was not an option.

Though I would have rather spent my time in Boston as it was intended and felt absolutely terrible for the inconveniences caused in the wake of my day from hell, the weather was beautiful, so I took advantage of it.

Once business was finished, I strolled up and down Newbury Street and the surrounding area. I read a book in the park. I ate a dirty water hot dog. I popped in and out of the shops. Soaking up the sun and the cheery atmosphere, I wandered aimlessly like a tourist who knew her way around. I love Boston, I really do. I miss it wholeheartedly. While Manhattan has a lot to offer, Boston has a lot to offer, too, but in a quieter, cleaner, friendlier way.

And so, back to Boston I go in just a few short weeks.

Kate

Having a personal yet professional website is similar to having chickenpox. You're always pick, pick, picking. It begins by replacing a word, perhaps it's been used already in that paragraph. Then you might delete a paragraph because it's just not necessary. After reading through the website once again, you might decide chickenpox is not enough, it's time for unraveling cloth. You know, when you find a string and you can't help but pull it until it's a big mess and you need a new cloth.

What began as a few slight changes to my website, an updating if you will, turned into almost completely new copy. This is a day-long endeavor and can be frustrating if unplanned for and it's 79 degrees outside with azure skies and a slight breeze. My attempt was to create a site that was short on copy and easy on the eyes and mind.

As anyone with a resume is well aware of, writing about yourself is difficult and uncomfortable. One doesn't want to come across less talented than they are but must not sound narcissistic, either. Imagine, instead of a professional resume, writing several paragraphs about how wonderful you are, not only because of your documented accomplishments in life, but because of your stunningly good looks, sensual body and sparkling personality? I can see why some escort sites are written in the third person.

While I realize updating is important I also know to stop picking and pulling when something is working. Why I am constantly changing and rearranging the copy on my site, I do not know. The fact is, I am quite pleased by the outcome and changes were not necessary. All I can say for sure is my site is heavier with copy than it was yesterday and my web designer is probably very happy I opted for the CMS program.

Kate

P.S. The groin is just dandy.

I learned something new about my body today.

During my kick boxing class I felt a sudden sorness where my thigh meets my . . . self. It hurt and was uncomfortable but not unbearable. I soldiered on.

After class I found the instructor in the locker room and decided to ask her about this strange soreness . . . down there. I pointed to the vicinity and said, "I think I pulled something during class, it really hurts. Any idea what it could be?"

"You must've pulled your groin a bit. I'm sure you'll be fine." she said.

"My what?"

"Your groin."

"I have a groin? I thought that was a guy thing."

"I said your groin, not your prostate."

"Oh."

Kate

His home was beautifully appointed with modern furnishings while maintaining it's original character from a century ago. His kitchen was every hobby chef's dream and easily the size of the average homeowners entire first floor. Soothing jazz played throughout and a silly but lovable golden retriever added a bit of warmth to the very clean and organized atmosphere. Spurred by a conversation about great steaks at our first date two months prior at Manhattan's famed '21', he thoughtfully surprised me by ordering two magnificent cuts of beef from Lobel's. After dinner we settled down and polished off a bottle Veuve Cliquot Rose while playing a competitive game of Scrabble under the glow of candlelight. I won the first game with the help of a triple-scored ‘zoom’; he won the next game using 'exemplary' on a double-word tile.

In the morning I was instructed to make myself at home while he attended a short, impromptu meeting not far from his house. The first order of business was coffee and the second, I decided, was a workout in the home gym I was introduced to the evening before. Like the kitchen, the gym was state-of-the-art and I was anxious to get my hands on it. I sipped my coffee over The Times and then dressed for my morning jog on the ultra-nifty treadmill.

I placed my travel speakers on the stereo and settled my iPod into the cradle. I bypassed David Grey, Antigone Rising, Joss Stone and The Dave Matthews Band, among many others, before finding my playlist entitled Workout. These are songs I normally would not listen to due to the unnecessary filthy language and a blatant lack of respect for, well, anyone. The lyrics generally don't make sense, just a bunch of shocking words strung together, and the fact that the songs are inappropriately marketed to young people causes me to balk at supporting such artists and record labels. Alas, to date this is the one and only way I can be persuaded to exercise outside of social activities.

Fifteen minutes into my workout I was pressed on by Gwen Stefani's Hollaback Girl, which always reminds me of my stint as a football cheerleader back in high school. Next, the Pussycat Dolls serenaded me with Don't Cha, a little ditty about a woman chiding her current flame about being hotter and more raw, fun and freaky than his main girlfriend. It's got a good beat anyway . . . Toward the end of my workout, I began sweating to Kanye West and Jamie Foxx's popular and addictive Gold Digger.

So, there I was rocking out and breathlessly singing to Gold Digger, ". . . she went to the doctor got lypo for your money, walking around looking like Michael for your money, shoulda got that insured at Geico for your money . . . holler we want pre-nup, yeah!", when I see a figure behind me reflected in the blank television screen.

"What the hell is this?"

Did I mention this particular gentleman is an Ivy League professor? Who teaches music?

I stepped onto the sides of the machine and pressed the STOP button, smiled and turned to face him.

"Oh, hi. You're back early. What a nice surprise!"

"Yeah, well, this is really bad, this, uh, music stuff. I mean, I've heard it. Those kids, you know, who listen to loud, uh, music in their cars with the windows down, in the winter. I never imagined you to be the type to listen to this."

Some people put quite a lot of stock into the type of music a person listens to as if it were some type of major ethical or moral debate. Clearly he was disappointed I wasn't running to Tchaikovsky or famous opera arias, if that is even possible. I mean, I like and appreciate classical music, opera and show tunes, but they all have their time and their place, you know?

"Oh, well, you see --"

I felt the need to explain myself to him. He looked so hurt, so devastated by my apparent lack of taste when it came to music selection.

"Listen, this is just to motivate me, to work out by. I don't really like it, per se, but it's got a beat that keeps me moving -- like dancing, sort-of. It has a purpose, anyway." I motioned to the iPod on its stand. "Here, why don't you come here and look at the other songs I've saved. They’re actually quite normal. Some I think you would actually enjoy." I began to step from the treadmill to show him that I too, could listen to music responsibly.

He was still looking down, contemplating the situation I suppose, when he put his hand on my arm to indicate I should stay on the machine. A few seconds went by and Britney Spears' dance mix Toxic turned into the live version of Jane's Addiction's Jane Says. As the opening began, the flirty steel drums and the bass, I noticed his foot tapping to the melody. Irritation, I imagined, but then he suddenly looked up at me and smiled, "This is more like it!” Then he started to do a little jig, apparently modern dancing.

He literally burst into laughter. Though he was slightly shocked and found it humorous to hear Gold Digger playing in his house which frightened his simple-minded dog, he found my wide-eyed and horror-struck face hilarious and he just had to play it up as best as he could. I wrinkled my nose and furled my eyebrows in mock irritation, turned from exertion pink from the exercise to crimson red from the embarrassment and then laughed along with him.

We agreed there is something absolutely erotic about Jane Says and began to kiss. We fell onto the matted floor, arms and legs entangled, and "danced" to the remainder of the song, followed by Kidd Rock's slow and sexy Lay It On Me, and then an intense finish with George Michael's I Want Your Sex, Part 2, the extended version with porno-like music combined with brass in the background. As we layed back together and relaxed in post-coital bliss, The Blackeyed Peas came through the speakers singing My Humps and we laughed until we cried.

Well, Happy Easter to me!

Growing up without religion, Easter in my household was about the Easter Basket and getting together with family to eat. We always had an Easter Egg hunt and collected real eggs. Instead of hoarding candy it was all about the competition among my siblings and cousins. Once the eggs were collected and counted, the winner received ten bucks from my uncle and the eggs were used for potato salad. The potato salad, in all its pastel glory, was always delicious.

Family has dwindled down and over the years has also settled down. People pass away, move away and create new families. Things have become different but it's always a nice time, visiting with family. I have opted for no Easter Basket this year, instead I am swinging by a local bakery to pick up some sugar cookies. Not just sugar cookies, but melt-in-your mouth, premimum, addictive, unbeliveable, perfect sugar cookies. I should also be receiving a package in the mail today from my favorite lingerie site, Agent Provocateur. Their new line, Confetti, is very sweet and sexy in pink. I also bought a few spring dresses this week and cannot wait to wear them. Though I am no Patty Duke, I am delighted to find the 1950s style dresses and skirts back in style. They are so simple and lovable, slightly sexy in an "I know what you have under there" way. The attire from that era is uncomplicated and feminine, like this updated dress:

I am hoping the weather warms up over the next couple of weeks so I can wear some of my new clothes.

Kate

I am afraid I have set the bar higher than I meant to. The response time bar, that is. During the winter months it's easy to spend quite a lot of time on the computer or next to the phone. In addition, the winter is my busiest time at my full-time job which requires me to be at the computer anyway. As the weather becomes more pleasant and the full-time job slows down, I spend more and more time outside either relaxing, working on my home or enjoying the outdoors.

If you need to reach me in a timely manner please use my cell phone number if you have it. If you must leave a message, please tell me the best time to reach you. If you are trying to contact me by email, please be patient, I may not be able to get back to you within ten minutes, but definitely within 24 hours. Most of all, enjoy the beautiful weather we are experiencing, take your lunch outside or go for a walk and take time to smell the hyacinths.

Kate

About a year ago at this time I had run from the cold east coast and was experiencing the warm tropics. Our suite was large, ocean front with a huge veranda, a four-poster bed and a bathroom to die for with a romantic soaking tub for two, or three. The sitting area was comfortable and the complimentary mini-bar was stocked with anything a heart would desire. The view was unobstructed and simply breath-taking. The beach before us was quiet, the water was still and azure and the sand was a light tan. Very peaceful.

Each morning after showering we lazed on the veranda with a spread before us of sweet baked goods, fresh eggs and bacon and of course, a large carafe of hot Jamaican coffee, my absolute favorite. We read photo copies of front-page news from The NY Times. On some mornings I read it aloud to him while my feet perched on his thigh and a cuban cigar hung from his lips, eyes closed, head tilted back relaxing against the chair in the warmth of the morning sun. We would not move from our amazing view until the coffee was finished and as the trip came to an end, we found ourselves nursing our coffee sometimes until noon.

During the day while he golfed at the various courses on the island, I took advantage of the spa or spas, rather. One can only have so many manicures and pedicures, so I opted fo a massage on almost a daily basis. Luckily we were right next door to The Ritz where I enjoyed a different type of massage daily: Swedish, hot river rock, you name it. It was lovely and I was spoiled. The resort offered a shopping center and I bought coffee and linens to bring back home, a few cuban cigars as a surprise for my travel partner.

When time permitted, we snorkeled, rode bikes around the property, kayaked and went horseback riding. Of course, we ate. We ate like I've never eaten before. I didn't find the food to be particularly interesting but the quantity we consumed was amazing! Spiny lobsters, shrimp cocktails, fresh fruit, jerked chicken, steaks, seafood salads, rum raisin ice cream and our fair share of pina coladas and daquiris. We visited various restaurants and on the evenings we were late getting ready, or simply got ready only to become "unready", we took advantage of room service. Eating dinner in the nude with plates of food for miles set unsteadily on a king-sized mattress makes for a fun experience. Plan on calling housekeeping for a new comforter before turning in for the evening.

Because our trip was at the end of winter we came home to spring. The ground was green and not white. Tulips and daffodils were blooming in front yards, the sky was blue and the smell of fresh cut grass and bar-b-que grills was in the air. I don't think we could have timed it better.

Kate

I have met many wonderful men while hosting in Westchester County, NY. Though I realize it may be an inconvenience to them, I have made the difficult decision to no longer offer this service on a regular basis. I plan on communicating this bit of news through email over the next few weeks, but time seems to be slipping away so I thought I would mention it here.

One of the reasons I am no longer hosting is that I am enrolling in grad school. It's been quite a lot of work getting everything together in order to enroll this summer, so worst case scenario is that I will begin this fall. My business is growing and though I don't plan to continue the business once I graduate it is a place-holder in my resume and allows me to collect important professional contacts outside of the escorting world.

My business does allow me to travel from time to time and during these rare occasions I may host depending on my workload. My business travels take me across the east coast and New England. If I am traveling and hosting I will post this information on my website. At this time there is no telling how often I might be traveling or to where. However, I do plan on visiting Boston April 26-28.

The other reasons for no longer hosting on a regular basis are personal. The demands of seeing several gentlemen in a short period are more than I can handle on a regular basis both physically and mentally. On rare occassions, it is exciting and fun, though I will not see half the number of clients many escorts see while offering incall. It's simply not within my personal capacity to do so.

This is how my business plan was arranged when I first started over two years ago and was based on quality and not quantity. I knew what was best for me then and I know what is best for me now. Funny how we always end up back at the basics, isn't it?

Kate