Stripping was, primarily, the means to an end, and now that that end has been achieved, it is time for the end to the means.
Meaning? We did it! Boyfriend had surgery over the summer, and the accomplishment of that has brought an end to my career on the pole. However, that does not mean an end to this blog. In fact, I see it much more like the beginning. In order to actually pull our little project off, I had to work a LOT, which didn't leave a ton of time for blogging. Now that I'm done though, I'm eager to get the ups and downs of the whole ordeal in print, before they escape into the suppressed part of my memory. :P
I was walking down the street the other day when one of my songs came on my iPod. One of those songs I really enjoyed dancing to. It felt... strange. Part of me was horrified, but part of me was rocking out to it, even envisioning myself twirling and bouncing around on the stage, maybe even missing my work - and if not missing it, definitely reminiscing to some of my better nights. I concluded that certain songs will probably always have that effect on me, and even though I smiled at that thought, that was also when I realized just how addictive my job was. I'm lucky that it's a job with an expiration date attached (although I've definitely met women who don't seem to agree on that point).
The attention. The adrenaline. The rush of the risk, the sweat, and of course, the money.
It's like being famous, being a stripper. You walk around and turn heads. Everyone wants to talk to you, wants a piece of you, wants your attention and showers you with theirs. The performing, the money, all of it. And fame... well, we've all seen how hard it is to let it go. I feel qualified to go platinum. Like all the rappers these days seem to be bitching/bragging about - the pressure and the rush and the attention. I get it.
Does this mean I should get a record deal now?
Be well, stay tuned.
