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When someone tells you they're a big deal in the music industry, how are you supposed to react? Especially when you have no clue who they are, and he's telling you his name and you repeat it wrong. I had no idea who "this guy" was that I started talking to, and truth be told, I still don't. But apparently he's some sort of messiah. He came complete with a posse who seemed to bend over backwards for him. And then he asked me not to say anything about what happened during his stay at the club. Well, it's hard to talk about people you don't know. So I'm not even gonna bother. But he was sweet and adorable. And a great tipper.
But onto better things... Paul Walker came into the club. Nah, not really, but a guy who could've been Paul Walker's twin came in and I noticed him straight away. Why? Because Paul Walker is hot shit. So of course I pounced on this guy and practically stayed by his side the whole night. I didn't make a lot last night probably for that reason alone. But he was an absolute pleasure to dance for. And I had fun running my hands all over his body. I even (guiltily) thought about leaving my bf to be with this unknown stranger. We just hit it off so well and he was oh so hot.
Now that I'm home though, I realise I could never leave my boyfriend. I couldn't see myself with the Paul Walker lookalike, because I already see my future with Ryan. I love my boyfriend and I feel so guilty for having a bit more fun during a dance than nessecary. But anyway...
I'm really lazy atm. I've worked two nights in a row and I'm really starting to feel it. My right knee can barely bend and my body aches all over. Worse, I haven't been able to catch up on the sleep due to school holidays, so I have to wake up when my kid wakes up. And tonight I'm working agian. Argh! But I need that dirty cash. I hope I make enough tonight to be able to fund my easter holiday.
Sorry, I'm all over the place. I don't really feel like writing. I feel like shit, I just want to sleep but the little one wants to play. I wish 5 year olds could take care of themselves and make their own lunches. Hmpf! So this is probably the messiest written blog. I make no sense... I may as well jab keys at random. I'm just preserving the memory of meeting some famous dude and a Paul Walker lookalike. Over and out.
I probably should've updated as the days went on, but sometimes things happen that are bigger than the internet. For example: finding out you're pregnant when you have been drinking most nights and stripping.
Shock, horror, elation. I wanted to keep it, I really really did... but fear prevented me from doing so. Drugs, smoke and alcohol a heathy baby do not make. And so it's with saddest regret that I will relay to you the most heinous confession I will ever make: I terminated my 6 week old fetus.
So now I am a murderer as well as a stripper. There is no way of justifying the killing of an innocent being, regardless of the situation. A child will never be because of my choice. Oh how I wish abortion were illegal. It would've made the choice so much easier for me. I had lots to consider before I made my descision: my finacial situation, my "career", my boyfriend, my family. Circumstances just did not allow room for a baby.
My womb that is supposed to protect and nurture had become a killing field. Conception is a miracle, and there I was in a sterile room with my legs in stirrups, allowing that miracle to be ripped away. I will never ever forget it. I grieve the loss of my baby's life, and hate myself because it was I who put an end to it.
But, the show must go on. The world waits for no one. I have been at home waiting to heal, waiting to get over my sadness. My financial situation is in even more dire straits, I have only managed to bring my credit card down by $850, bringing it's total to $4,150. I find this disconcerting, as my 2 week stripping stunt brought me home well over $2000. Where oh where did all that money go?!
Obviously I haven't been able to work, but now that I'm no longer bleeding from the uterus, I think it's safe to say that I'm bringing stripping back. I look forward to dancing my way to finacial freedom. So, once I start stripping agian that means more regular updates! After all, this is supposed to be the diary of a stripper.
I made just over $500 on my fourth night working. That's the most I've made so far, and as you can imagine, I'm quite happy with that! It's great having money just sitting around, waiting to be spent. Unbelievably, I haven't gone out to buy anything at all! I feel a bit funny about parting with the money I make, so I'm just letting it grow fatter and eventually I'll either buy things with it or put it towards my debt.
I think I'm starting to have "regulars" who come in to see me now. This one guy in particular has been my main tipper and the bulk of my money comes from him. He's such an easy guy and never tries to touch me, and he's not bad looking either. I'm always happy when he's in the club because I know I'm going to make some money.
I still can't work the pole as most strippers do. One of the girls have tought me a few moves but I've been too scared to try them when I'm preforming for fear of looking like a complete moron. And since practising those moves, my muscles have been aching. I don't know if I'm ever going to feel normal agian. Over time I'm guessing I will, but for now I have to put up with a sore body every day. I'm trying to treat myself well, I'll apply a foot balm each night and dry brush my body and moisterize and all that shit. The only thing I'm lacking on is the sleep. It's hard to find the time to sleep when I'm working at nights and I have a child to care for in the day. I have a feeling that working in a smokey environment isn't too good for my health either, my skin appears dull and my hair probably reeks all the time now. Yuck!
Ryan has been so good to me. He's happy that I'm making money and I guess he's now proud that it's money I'm earning and not just a handout from the government. He doesn't seem to be getting jealouse which I think is a little odd, but there's no friction between us because of my job so I'm happy! You can't argue with that.
On the nights that I have work, I think to myself "Argh, not this agian..." I can't decide whether I like stripping or not. I dread the thought of getting ready in the change rooms with the other girls, I hate thinking that I'm going to have to talk to men I don't even know who may possibly reject me because they'd rather have a dance with a thinner girl. I loathe the thought that I'll be on stage and no one will tip me. But when I think about taking home the money I make, I get excited and I'm ready to dance up a storm. Each night I think to myself "tonight could be the night I make a thousand". And I'll go to work with a smile on my face.
From my lack of posts, you can tell I've been busy with my new "proffession". It's tough work gyrating against a pole that countless other girls have handled, while wearing super high stilettos. I have a feeling I'm going to need to take better care of my feet. Already I've got bruises from my heel straps and what looks like bunyins (or whatever they're called) developing. Yuck!
I told Ryan about my desire to be a stripper that night I posted my last post. He is absolutely unbelieveable! I wasn't expecting him to be so calm, and even encouraging. He embraced what I had to tell him. Amazing. I was utterly dumbfounded, and if I had known sooner what his reaction would be, I would've told him from the word GO. It would've saved me a lot of worrying
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When most people land a job, they start buying things once they get their first pay. I'm the complete oposite- I've been shopping all day long! I don't know if i'll be successful as a... dancer (I can't quite bring myself to say the S word yet). I don't even know when my first "shift" will be! But I managed to spend a tidy $140 on shoes, lingerie and clothes. All because I keep thinking I'll need it for work. Tragic, isn't it? I think to myself- "Ohh, I'll need a pair of stripper shoes!" and the next thing you know I'm carrying a new pair of high, red heels in my hand. Or "Oh yeah, this black g-string will go good with that bra I've got..." and walk out of K-Mart with a bag full of undies. Sigh...
Worse, I still haven't told my boyfriend! Today is the day I have to tell him, as tomorrow is when I'll be going to see Amy (my "house mother") for training. I don't want to lie or keep anything else from Ryan, so he simply has to be informed tonight. We've arranged to meet at a restaurant after he finishes work, so I'll tell him then
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Where do I begin? At the beginning, obviously. But sometimes the start of something is not nescecarily the very beginning, as in my case. So do I talk about my childhood, or when I first harboured thoughts of my potential future career? Or do I start from when I got the phone call?
I'll just start from last week, when this whole thing began hatching. Well, it's been hatching since I was a teenager, but back then I didn't take it seriously. Today, I'm taking it very seriously, because everything- my relationship, my financial situation, my role as a mother- may all be at stake. Allow me to finally begin telling my tale
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