I may keep coming here, but as of Monday, I will have a full time dayjob. I’m excited. Well, technically, night job. I’ll be keeping similar hours to the Night Shift Hottie, who has turned out to be an amazingly positive influence. Thanks to his suggestions, and time spent helping me rewrite my resume, I am moving on into a new point in my life.

Truthfully, I’m a lot happier now than I have been for quite a while since i started dancing!

I suppose NSH and I have been going out for about 3 months, but it feels a lot longer, and he’s been a great supportive influence with my family, drama, etc.

As much as I’m not one to romanticize things, or get my hopes up, I really think we have a long way to go together. We agree on pretty much all of the issues we discuss, and debate hte ones we don’t. We’ve fought, but are perfectly OK to resolve it without personal attacks and undue aggression. He’s made an incredible effort to be here for me anytime I’ll let him, and pop up on my doorstep the times I won’t. It really makes me happy to have that level of support and commitment from someone. Normally, I’m the one putting that in,but not getting it back.

I’m definitely at that point with many of my other friends right now. So many people lean on me for comfort or advice, but don’t hang out with me when I need that, or when they DONT need it. Its a bit hurtful, but what can you do?

So I really am focusing on the happy right now…. To new beginnings!

New Jobs, New spiritual family, New opportunities.

I’msure I’ll ramble a bit more about N(short for NSH, but more personal). I’m still ata bit of a gushing point. We’re taking things fairly slowly, but he’s made it clear that, when we feel ready, he DOES want to live with me. Its rather sweet. I suppose it seems too soon, but it really IS hard to explain teh amount of shit we’ve dealt with together, and considering we were talking long before we started dating, I think we have a good foundation. Definitely no rushing though. And we’ve been seeing each other pretty much daily anyways.

I’m going to enjoy the hope. I deserve it.

the clubs are so swamped with girls that you can’t get more htan one shift a week at any one. Everyones been losing money like no other the past fe months, and its REALLY taking a toll. Everywhere has so many new auditions, old girls coming back, house girls wanting more shifts…. THat its a fight to work even 3 days a week. THe past two months, most weeks i’ve had one or two dead shifts at most…. Maybe a party here or there, but even the party scene is dead. Its quite scary.

Best thing is to just convince myself that its NOTHING to do with me. I am hot, reliable, a great stage performer, a sociable dancer. Its just that there’s so much competition, and the managers don’t KNOW me too well.

But its still quite scary. I’m mulling over options, because I can’t survive like this. A regular of mine suggested webcamming. I don’t own a cam, am a techno idiot, so i don’t know if it would work, but its on the research list.

At least i’ve had some distractions in my personal life taking my mind off it-the dog has an ear infection and needs medication twice a day. He’s also quite cuddly, and quite prissy about going to the bathroom outside when its wet out. been meeting a lot of new people, been on some dates. WIll go to a classical concert tomorrow, and have a real prospective boyfriend, though we’re still in the “Getting to know you” phase, we have a LOT in common, and a LOT of chemistry. So we’ll see how it goes. STill no communication with the family. That’s gotta be a good thing, even if i feel bad for not calling to tell my aunt “i’m sorry you lost your job” after i got her voicemail. I just can’t have that can of worms open, on top of everything else.

Life is scary right now. I want to grab the Night Shift Hottie(new possible boy) and just monopolize him every minute i’m not working. Gotta have some comfort right? I’m petrified of ending up homeless, despite my best efforts.

Its official. I’m done. Friends have been telling me for forever that I’d be much healthier if I gave up on the blood family, and stuck with the spiritual family.

Last straw happened just a week or so ago.  Let the family talk me into taking a trip with them to Mexico, as a way to reconnect, after much prior drama in December when I visited.

THis trip ended up with a horrible fight that followed every unhealthy pattern theyve established.  Bad enough that my mom actually came to blows with me.

I’m sorry. I dont allow that sort of violnce from NAYONE in my life.  In december, it was my aunt who left bruises.  Normally they’re only emotional bruises.

But the past two trips have come to violence. I’m done.

I think people know-in this fight i found myself crying to my aunt, confessing that all my friends couldn’t believe i still talk to the family, and even my THERAPIST said it would be for the better if they stuck to their guns on disowning me, instead of changing their minds and just pretending they said nothing.

Well jokes on them.

I’m done.

For how many times they’ve disowned me, and then “forgiven”: me, only to do it again, the last laugh is mine.

Done. Disowned.  I have a new phone, whose number htey don’t have. I’m not logging onto IM to talk with them.  If i COULD move just to get a new address I would.

I want to change my name. Have for QUITE some years.  But hte events of hte past few months have cemented to me that I am not happy with the identity they chose for me, including name.ANd hte only way i can truly reject all of it is tocut them off, and show them that THIS is who i am-NOT whatyou think my birth certificate says.  Everything you think about me means NOTHING.

Its a liberating thought. I just don’t have the money or energy right now to force the name change through.  But i dream of it. I have my new name ALL picked out.  I use a form of it with all my friends.  The family are the only ones who refuse ot get wtih teh game.

They lose.  I just wish it hadn’t taken getting blamed for a full out catfight to mae me say ENOUGH.

Abuse is abuse, even if it doesn’t bruise, and is disguised as love.

So no mom, I don’t love you.  No, aunt, I don’t love you.  No, sister, I don’t love you.Maybe I did once, but I honestly love myself more.  I’ve worked for far mmore than you will ever know, and I reject any love that you offer, because you aren’t loving ME, you are loving the image of “your daughter/sister”

Its not a particularly spiritual way to live, but I want the negativity OUT NOW.

Its been a stressful few months, with the economy in nose dive, work’s been rather crappy. Plus, my area has VERY strict scheduling and senority things so its a pain even working as much as I want.

Been dancing for private events, something I actually love. People are so happy to see you, and you know your getting paid up front.  SO very comfy.

Due to our states very liberal laws, we are allowed to put on a DAMN good show, and I’ve actually had a lot of fun with my dancer partners.   Just had a show tonight that paid for girl on girl.  An absolute blast to do.  Although its weird thinking that I’ve had my face in several friends private parts in front of an audience.  Not a bad thought, just… amusing and weird.

I’d love it if this work was  steady enough for me to just ditch the clubs.  Its unfortunatly NOT, but I do what I can.

my momentum has been in a million different directions lately. Not really trying any new pole tricks, but have been learning hand balancing and a few other aerial acrobatic arts. I love it.  I love performing, improving.  Now, to find a feasable career path for myself.

Had some family drama that will be talked about in another post.

Also had a lot of inspiration for writing. I always had ideas moving through my head, and I analyze everythign I come in contact with.  So of course,the urge has hit to write something longer, a novel, something that i’ve put just as much thouht in as I ever did intaking apart someone elses work.  I’ve found myself going through my favorite genres, authors, pickign apart style, symbolism,ways of handling “taboo” topics…

THe stuff thats in my head is really dark, which is why I never seriously pursued writing before, beyond short stories.  But i think i could be a lot better at it, and it would be cathartic since my modeling career has temporarily sabotaged itself.  I feel to insecure about my short hair(not my decisiion to cut-it got damaged because of some medicatio and no longer looked thick and even)  I’m insecure about my weight, even while trying to avoid kcik starting my ED cycle a over again.  I think I’v e held up well, but it definitely sabotages work relations and makes it hard to get th momentum to put myself out to shoot.

Been dating a fair amount, but no die.  Everyones been flakey,disinterested, shitty in bed, immature.  So i’m better off onmy own, and happy that way.  I would like to attract a sugar daddy, as I’m very good at pampering others, and it would be a cozier way to earn money while tempering my antisocial tendencies.  But those are hard to find, and I seem to be more inept than most.

Ah well, I ahve my hopes up since we should be entering wedding season soon.  PLEASE LET ME GET A LOT OF BACHELOR PARTIES!

Just had a bday party tonight, with a cop theme.

I have my favorite pair of “fake” keyless handcuffs, cheap, but effective. THe bday boy is being annoying and gropey, so i handcuff him to the chair.

Later, I am dancing for his mother(!) brother and sister(!) and i see some of the guys trying to get the handcuff off his wrist.

One side of the handcuffs worked fine, the other was so totally STUCK.

I went through HALF my show discretely trying to get his handcuffs off. My driver tried as well.

NO ONE COULD GET MY HANDCUFFS OFF THE POOR GUYS WRIST!

Thankfully, we found a pair of pliers, and went at it with that.

Ten minutes later, my handcuffs are totally bent, adn mutilated, but finally off the poor kids wrist!

Laughing. So. Hard. People were cool about it, but my POOR HANDCUFFS! I have traumatized countless dates with those, disciplined countless grabby mo-fo’s. What a sad defeat!

Even the best of us make mistakes, and it is an unpredictable sport.

Case number one.  Spinny poles.  You get the momentum and its like riding a tornado. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen girls abandon attempts to do tricks because they can’t do anything but cling to the pole for dear life.   The other day, I found myself launching into one of my signature pole moves, a ballet inspired beast that supports the pole along my back and stomach, without use of hands or feet. I’m getting into it on a spinny pole, the momentum gets too much, and my glasses FLEW off my face, to the other end of the bar.  Took about ten minutes to find, and between not having good depth perception without htem, and being htoroughly dizzy from the ride, i was dancing like a drunk madwoman.  Got a good laugh though.

Case number 2.  Low ceilings.  One of my current clubs has a VERY low ceiling.  Any jump at all when I go into my stag, and i’m in danger of of clipping the tiles on it.  Worse yet?  They’re MIRRORED.  This looks sexy for floorwork, but is very disorienting for polework.  Today, I put my foot through the ceiling three times, knocking one of hte light bulbs out.  Ouch. THere goes that “floating vision of ethereal beauty” thing.

Case number 3.  STages without proper spinning room.  At the last club I was at, the stage was just SLIGHTLY too narrow for a reverse grab spin.  Plus, it had wooden pillars.  Get a great takeoff, try to remember to tuck, and WHACK stripper shoes against wall, and rebound onto floor.  Yeesh.

Who designs these things?!

Small, stubbly nails, short fingers, swollen knuckles.

My acrylics were fading, and becoming painful during polework.  Was time for a new pair anyways. Normally i just let the nail people take them off, but they were too loose and painful to last a day in that condition.

So now i have my normal, stubby hands back. They look exactly like my mothers.  Its funny what a change a set of pristine, long nails makes.

Was talking to my mom, she’s been really making efforts to keep an open relationship with me, and trying not to provoke me or get judgemental or anything. i don’t trust it.

We spoke about aerial dance, like i’ve been learning, and I sent her links to a few video’s of my HERO, Isabelle Chasse.

Immediatly, the whining began.  “Your SECONDARY hero, right?  Not me?” Umm, I have lots of heros. I love to admire people. “But i’m your QUEEN hero right?”

No.  No your not.  As if the fishing wasn’t rude enough, why SHOULD you be my hero?

My life has been characterized by dealing with HER neuroses.  When my eating disorder was developing, it was modeled after HER.  Her compulsive dieting, self loathing, was a byword in the family.  My dad got a BIIIIIIIG bowl of food(half of what was in the pot)  My sister got the second biggest bowl(a quarter of what was in the pot)  I got 3/4 of the remaining amount, and my mom would save the smallest portion for herself.  I used to make a game out of switching her plate with mine, so that I could be the one becoming beautiful and pure.  I wonder if she knew why her diets always failed.

The more I speak with her, the more I know she realizes she messed up wtih me.  For a long time, after she found out about my rape(five years AFTER The fact, with me living with her, and self abusing the ENTIRE time) she blamed herself, both for exacerbating the situation with her Christian conservatism(she sat me in a room and said “this is sex, if you do this with a boy you aren’t married to, you will rot in hell”, and for years, I believed it-though I had been raped when I didn’t know what sex WAS)  She blamed herself for failing to notice my abuse, or suicide attempts(though i took cares that she WOULDN’T).
And I still kind of blame her too.  I never had a childhood.  And though only part of it was her fault, its still hard to forgive the one who SHOULD have been by my side.

Stupid movie aside, there’s a quote from Silent Hill in my head.  “Mother is god, in teh eyes of a child”.  maybe that’s why she wants to believe i look up to her.  But I don’t, and I can’t.  She betrayed herself by allowing herself to be steered into a career and life that OTHERS chose for her, and knows it.

She wanted to be a nurse.  And was smart enough.

She was overwhelmed by two children, and abandoned me to raise my younger sister, because she couldn’t assert herself to reach out for my sister, herself.

I’ve learned motherhood, because of her, and its reassured me i won’t have kids of my own.   Because I’m JUST like her, and I don’t want to be. I don’t want to wreck another human the way she did me.

I’m strong now.  I recognize my beauty, though i sometimes doubt in it.  I live my OWN life, doing things i love, outside the norm that SHE would have chosen for me.

I don’t want her hands.  I can’t wait till the nail salon opens tomorrow.

So, had a experience today that is really making me consider myself and my flaws.  I know for YEARS i grappled with negative feelings, and coped with a number of destructive cycles. I’ve weeded them down in time, except for one.

Kleptomania.  When I was a teenager, I stole from stores, makeup and such.  For the most part, I hated it, it was just one other way of affirming to myself that i was an awful person who deserved all the bad things my life has thrown at me.  Get control of the cycle, remove other destructive coping mechanisms, and it faded.

Well, for some reason, I’ve noticed the compulsion has come back more, in the past few months.

Today I stole a slip, from a designer dress, at a store i regularly shop at.  And nearly got caught. Its the first and only time I’ve stolen from them, and I’m  highly pissed at myself.  Aside from the fact that they have my name and address, I really think its horrendously stupid of me.

I don’t need any legal trouble, and i don’t need to go begging to make my life worse, or to aggravate my old mental issues any more.

I don’t really know what to do now, I don’t want to set foot in the store, for fear they confront me.  I really just want to have this off my chest, and to break this cycle once and for all.

I can’t stop laughing, Private Parties are a BLAST.

Had a bachelor party tonight,  guys were well behaved, blushing, fun to dance for… And hten?  THey paid me extra to spend the last bit of my show playing Rock Band with them, naked.  It was HILARIOUS!  A room of nerds howling along to radioheads “creep” with me trying to ham it up on the “guitar”.

I can’t stop laughing.  It was CLASSIC.   How do you top THAT?!

What do you do when you realize things are close to ideal?

Since taking more private parties, and finding a club i genuinely like, I’ve been happy with my money.

And since things with A (for Artist) have taken off a bit, its been GREAT for my confidence. Normally, I feel like I do well “in spite of” my body shape/weight/natural facilities. Like when I model for people, I look good, primarily because of THEIR talents at hiding my flaws. With A, I don’t feel like that. Its long been one of hte reasons I love working with him. I can hit the most odd, disjointed, contortionistic pose, and he’ll be enthusiastic and happy, and hte results will show beautifully, though they DO show honest “un-model-y” curves. Guy really has a knack for “outside mainstream” beauty and body shapes, with honesty. I talk about shooting with him, and shoot with him, and his actions are a “you are BEAUTIFUL and I just try to capture it once and a while” Phenominal artist.

And he’s an absolute SWEETHEART. Things with us have definitely taken a sensual edge. he has the most delightful touch, and is so sensitive when he gives massages. I think so many guys lose track fo the “its about YOUR relaxation” in favor of the “duuude my hand is on her butt”.

I can’t recall the last time a person made me feel genuinely cared for, and intimate, consistantly, before ever having slept with me.

Its kind of funny-I know myself, and i DON’T develop crushes. Last one I had, i was 15. i experience “love” with a partner, as a sense of responsibility, knowing what I can do for them, and doing it. I like taking care of people, or making their “burden”s easier.

This is a new thing for me. Its too early to say i LOVE him, but i definitely am IN LOVE with him. Not in that “thoughtfulness” way, but in the more “stereotypical” sense. In the “its difficult to be depressed or upset while listening to his chest” sense.

He was so sweet today. Ifeel bad that I was in so much pain and not feeling well at all, but he was so sweet, making sure I was comfy, and generally doing everything he could to keep me relaxed.

I really adore this guy. And he knows it. That scares me. I am definitely afraid of getting attached, and being hte only one. I’m so used to getting fucked over. But i’ve known him for so long now, i KNOW he’s not like that, and i know we have a solid enough friendship base to where we CAN talk to each other.

I wish i knew how guys dealt iwth feminine insecurities. Him and I are both a little self conscious about our bodies, and I want a good comeback for next time he makes a joke about his “beer gut”. This time, all I could do was look him in the eye, and say “I don’t want to hear another word about it, your the only one who sees it.” and kiss him. And it was a distraction, but I don’t think it actually was reassuring. At any rate, its not healthy for both of us to be having “jiggle comparing” contests with our respective stomachs.

Although it IS refreshing, being around a guy who deals with that shit head on, its one of hte qualities that attracted me to him.

Sigh. I have to admit, i have high hopes. And I’m definitely glad that we waited so long to act on the crush. There is no rush at all for this. He’s worth more than that.