Go Go Gadget

Yes I'm a bit overworked... A lot overworked... But actually.

I'm really good. Logging in studio hours. Trudging through schoolwork by Julian's playground (and sometimes at the studio too)...

There's no way to talk about art. Talking about art is like dancing about architecture. And that's been my life lately, so, I find it hard to write... Also the fact that all my creative energy is going to these two outlets, I mean all of it, so that's another factor.

But, yes, good. And, as far as the club, well, I gotta go, and Vinnie called me last night when me and Emmy were at dinner, so it's kinda perfect timing. I heard it got revamped and they changed owners again and got rid of the pool table (THANK GOD) so it might be kinda cool. And, I KINDA miss it. Dancing. Not the rest of it. But it's been so long I can deal with it. I'll probably go in Tuesday night cuz I got class til 9 30 tomorrow.

The haunted hayride and carnival were amazing last night. We had so much fun. Perfect full moon and misty night and the middle of that beautiful forest. Reminded us of home.

I've been cooking pretty much all the time and eating a lot but for some reason getting skinny. I think it's cuz I'm cooking so it's real fucking food and my horse metabolism just kills it. I don't like being too skinny especially for the club... but I'm not really... And I feel better.

So yes.

Miss you all dear readers and sorry for not reading. Will soon. Promise.

XO
S-O

Soldiering ever and on

I'm like.. I'm like.. I dunno..

I'm tired. Man I'm tired. Not a lot of sleep, hardly any, ran 3 miles to the gym then took my yoga class and then swam. I met all these people at the gym and I ran into Mia, another dancer at the club, and she's one of the few cool ones and we actually exchanged numbers. She's pretty and smart too.

And then... I went to Table Top, cuz they have wi-fi now, as in Table Top next door to Cooperland, Home of J's Office, where he gets his coffee.

I sat there for 2 and a half hours. But I got all my linguistics homework done. Actually I got way ahead. Linguistics actually gets me going. It really does, and I dunno, in class today after like an hour I felt like people were getting irritated when I'd make arguments or observations the prof couldn't even really argue with, so I just shut up and looked down and wrote a letter to J in my notebook.

Obviously he didn't show up at Table Top. So I went by the Cooperland parking lot and looked in his car. To see what was in it. Unwashed. Yoga-mat. No more Paris pamphlet.

Meh.

sexual musings.

I think... that dancing at the club, is a sort of outlet for sexual energy that lowers my need for a satisfying real romantic sexual relationship... or a boyfriend... and having a boyfriend and being in love in a satisfying real romantic sexual relationship makes me really uninclined to want dance at the club, and release that energy somewhere else.... i've never danced for long when I was in a real relationship... not just cuz the guy didn't want me to. i didnt want to.

actually

actually i'm in a really shit mood. i feel like anyone in my life just feels sorry for me and thinks i'm this mess of a loser. sunny feels sorry for me. she always acts like it. naima thinks i'm a self-obsessed wreck now after last night. celine can't stand me either. all the men just want to sleep with me, not because i'm attractive but because they think i'm a slut and talentless and desperate. julian is my doctor. it's his job to be nice to me, and he probably flirts with me because he wants me to have some self-esteem. cam is done with me. manny's not my friend anymore because his wife hates me. z thinks i'm a fucking knowitall dilettante. carly just got engaged. i'm going nowhere in life.

i feel fat and lazy and like every time my i feel good about myself it's just mania-based delusion. because these are the facts. i'm selfish and i don't keep up with people and even this writing is fucking selfish loser bullshit. i have to go to sunny's because she came to my show out of pity. but i don't want to. i don't want to do anything. i'm broke. and the only reason i'm not evicted is because P came through and gave me some money and i got another check from the movie. otherwise i'd have been in the red. my car's about to fall apart. my phone's falling apart and i can't afford a new anything because i ruin everything because i'm a fucking loser.

i can't keep any friends because i'm too lazy and selfish.

the end.

Ex Ballerinas

I have to go shoot this interview for a film Celine's friend is making about ex ballerinas. He sent me an e-mail with the questions. I know I'm dutybound by the first rule of Fight Club to only say good things about Fight Club, and to talk about the instructors and choreographers and other dancers with adulation as hi fructose corn syrup oozes out of the corners of my mouth but I wanna say that as soulful and incredible as the life can be it's soulcrushing (and bonecrushing and anorexifying) for most, and that 999 out of 1000 ballerinas are ex ballerinas after a few years, and its kind of a dead art, like jazz or classical music or even a lot of theatre, sadly, most of whats done that's good is just, technix, if not PYROTECHNICS, which is really sad.

And that I'm eternally grateful for it because it got me the hell out of dodge and to all sorts of cool places I would've never gone...

And then one of the questions of course is: What do you do now? Do you use your dance training in any way today? And of course I'm gonna say, well, sure, the discipline I learned, the blafuckingbla, respect for my body (yeah right, most classical ballet dancers battle their bodies on the daily), and art and blah. And I'm a student, now. The truth would actually be great. Now? Oh, now I'm a dancer. Yes, I use my dance training. I make a living dancing.

But I don't actually, I feel like I've had to unlearn a lot of it, to dance "dance" no it's really dancing, it's just really different, I mean, it's all dancing, but with ballet, there are just some really unsexy specifics....

Anyway.

I have to go throw myself in the wash and do that right now. I'm kinda overit. Yesterday was genius. More later.

Interior Decorating

I am one tired lady. I tried to go to bed earlyish last night but it was tough... I don't even know when I got to sleep but I kept waking up... Then I woke up at 8 and went for a run. I totally cleaned and also rearranged my furniture and the doma looks so much better and feels so much more comfortable. Jesus. That feng shui musta been pretty off.

But now I'm so tired. I wanna take a nap. I'm meeting Sunny at 7 for dinner. I can't afford dinner though. I'll probably get coffee. Or a soup. And then, of course, work.

I hung out with Cam last night. We did his scene thing again. He's real attractive. And sweet. We're gonna go to the beach tomorrow, and the Gogol Bordello show. And he hasn't like, kissed me or anything yet. (I mean we've slept with each other and kinda dated like a year and a half ago but I mean now...) And he always almost does and walks me home and then says good bye. And I really like it. And obviously we flirt a lot and he's always trying to impress me and over the three times we hung out gotten more touchy and stuff. And you know. I know he likes me.

But this makes me think. Maybe none of these people like me. Maybe they're just flirting with me to be flirty.

I mean... Cam really liked me before... the last time... and men have fallen all over me, been crushed, made fools of themselves, poured their hearts out for the first time ever, and proposed, with diamond rings, introduced me to family, etc, etc, always. Hot shot lawyers, millionaires, rockstars, nice boys from Idaho, married, single, young, old, mobsters, Christians, all nationalities. And all the guys I meet in the club. And at the shows.

But... maybe, some of it is just all in my head... I mean... I need a mirror... all the time... I see myself in photos and I feel like that person is beautiful but it's not me... Or onscreen... and I always feel like I just don't look like that anymore... I only feel pretty when I'm seeing myself onscreen or in a mirror at the club or when people are watching me and telling me I'm pretty. I'm like... It's not even that important, because I just don't care anymore. But it's important because... it really makes me wonder if I'm just delusional all the time. If the club and the pictures made me think, or the particular men, and I'm not anything attractive or anything anyone would wanna be with. I damn sure don't feel pretty right now. I don't have any nice clothes AT ALL. NOTHING.



But. now that I've moved the bed, the breeze and the sunlight coming through the window are caressing my body and there's nothing more beautiful than that...

The Art of Whore

The title of this post is not supposed to be self-effacing OR ACCURATE, I just thought of it and find it funny.

Anyway.

I was telling J how I did the math and realized I'll be okay money-wise, that it's been dead at the club, but I always manage to squeeze out of there with a buck-fifty minimum, like it always comes SOMEHOW by the end of the night even after tipout, and that the other girls are all really over me by now, because they'll walk out of there with like fifteen, thirty, sixty, on these nights... and I totally understand it because sometimes I'll be sitting there for the first two or three hours and there's like nary a soul around, and I'm like, wow, I'm gonna make ten dollars tonight... But it doesn't happen, and he was like what is it that makes you better at it? So, I'm gonna break it down here. My secrets. The art of the club.

It took me a while to get this... I think like with everything, it's just kinda practice, and I've never really thought about it, but it's kinda like this:

First. If you walk in and one of your regulars is there, you go sit with them obviously, but if they're talking to another girl, you just come with a warm, familiar friendly hello, smile and nod at the lady, and say okay well I'll talk to you in a bit...

If there aren't any regulars, you don't go up to anyone until you go onstage. You go onstage, scope out the crowd, see how people react while you're up there, then take a moment after you get off and go around and gently talk to all of them, slowly approaching, just smiling, see if they're open to talking, ask if they enjoyed the show, everything slowly, clocking the reactions... If they're cheap and at all reluctant to tip, or try to be smartasses, or talk a big game, forget about them completely. Don't even look at 'em again. Usually I'll find one guy who really wants to talk, buys you a drink... Sit down with this guy... See if he's smart, sweet, lonely, hip, nerdy, whatever. Behave accordingly. Match his pace, intelligence, and his sense of humor.

Do not ask if he wants a dance. Stick with him. Wait til your turn onstage again, and he'll tip you a lot when you're up there, which usually makes others do the same, and more interested, cuz they see you're devoting your attention to one guy and not all desperate. Also, obviously, see how much he's tipping, because if he likes you, he'll tip what he can afford, and sometimes that's peanuts, and call for a *graceful exit.

Now, by the time a guy has talked to you for a bit, and feels like he knows you, it's usually totally okay to say, Ok! You stickin' around? I'm just gonna go make the rounds for a bit and see if I can get any dances... Make it kinda funny, and they'll usually be like, Oh of course, do what ya gotta do, or, Hey, aren't you gonna ask me? That way you cover all the bases, and always have someone to go back to and sit with... While you're making the rounds, another girl might come up to them, and ask them for a dance, and they'll be totally overit, and whenever you come back to them they'll want to talk to you.

A lot of the girls will just come up to the guys at the beginning of the night and ask for a dance or talk to them for a second and then walk away and whine in the dressing room how he's cheap and not tipping. Stupid. Most guys who come in early and aren't regulars are lonely and want to like, feel like they're special and have a special connection with a girl, and don't wanna feel like they're being hustled, even though that's exactly what's going on.

Now, later in the night, gets more packed and people are more drunk, I still don't go up and just ask for a dance right off the bat. Again, see who's watching you onstage, and only initiate the dance thing, with the guy you've been chatting to, or the new people who've been watching you, if there's a "Two for One," which is all the frickin' time, like every four songs. Make it sound like a deal, obviously. Explain it earnestly and slowly like a bimbo.

And, of course it helps to be really pretty, and a good dancer. Always seem like you're in a good mood. DON'T COMPLAIN, already. And everything slooooow, slow, slow. These girls just ambush the duders or come at them like vultures. Some of them come on really strong and basically scare the guys into getting dances, and it works for them, but it's not necessary. And besides you don't wanna make your money with dances. I only do that on a shitty night. It means a cut of your earnings, and the really big spenders don't usually get them...

*As far as walking away from a duder, always be cheerful and nice about it and say you'll be around and come back in a bit. Even if you're never ever going near the cheap bastard again.

That's about it. It's pretty obvious and intuitive but kind of hard to perfect. Also... It kinda helps to not be friends with the other girls. They waste their time hanging together and complaining when it's slow and get caught up drinking together and being assholes. Get really LOOSE, I mean, it's never a good idea to turn down a drink... And you wanna be relaxed and fun. And seem a little drunk. But never get drunk. You just lose your focus and sometimes your money.

Yep. That's it.

And furthermore,

The girls at the club- allllll collectively decided to dislike me. I don't give a goddamn, because as soon as I walk in, I plop myself down next to some duder who's gonna shell out all night, who doesn't like lapdances and thinks he's the first person to suggest, Can I just give you the $$ to sit here and talk to you? I don't wanna go in there... and I'm like, yeah, I totally know, it's kinda weird, I'd totally rather talk to you here too, that would be cool... And THEN I don't have to give the percentage of it to the house. So at the end of the night there's the little list with our names and X's next to them for how many dances we did, which determines how much of our hardearned greenbacks we give up, I've got like, one, or three, or no X's... but anyhow... yeah, I just don't talk to them, at all, I come in dressed already under my hoodie and plop the F down.

So this inglorious ho' whose dancer name is so marvelously retarded and gross I will certainly leave it to y'all's imaginations, well the duder she was sitting with pointed at me, as I walked by, like Can you get that girl over here? And S--F-----, who was eating, a fucking hot dog, in the club, no F.N. joke, made an obscene gesture, and I was loaded up, so I walked over there and leaned on the table and smiled at her. And she goes
What
And I go, Hey!
And she goes, Can I help you
And I go, Sure!
And she goes, What?
And I go, I just saw, you makin a little gesture over here, is there a problem?
I wasn't making a GESTURE! Someone OVER THERE... made... like a gesture at ME, so I made a gesture back, I'm just sitting here eating a hot dog!
Okay! Have fun!

So then later while I was talking to a duder she came up to me again, with her spiked insane hair, which she just bleached, which is doing nary a damn thing for her, and like insane makeup, and little latex top and pudgy little boy body-- (I have to give it to her, she puts on quite a show, she can like climb up the ceiling like spiderman, and wears a blindfold and shit, but its not sexy, just.. nuts...) and says, Why did you come over to my table while I was talking?
Same reason you're here at my table now.
What, why, I wasn't even doing anything, I was just sitting there eating a hot dog-
Got it
I pretend like you're not here, you don't even exist to me-
Awesome
I was just sitting there eating a hot dog
O-KAY NOW

This little lady has been dancing here for YEARS and thinks herself quite the queen bee, and is always bitching and complaining. I'm over it. But she and the sexy girl are friends now, that's what they all do at the club, they become little best buddies like, what's that damn game called, where you circle 'round the chairs? Oh, Musical Chairs. yes. like musical chairs. and then talk smack about each other. it's some kind of stunted development high school bizarre objectifying stripper thing. I abstain.

Hot, Hot Summer

It's so hot. Really it's not even hot, it's just the sun through my windows of my clean, clean apartment. In the horizon of the clear blue. Like a sneaky keyhole to hell.

It's so clean. The cleaning ladies came yesterday and they did a fantastic job. Word from the wise, to the wise, or others: Get a cleaning lady. A filthy apartment is a depressive agent, and one's own apartment is inscrutably difficult to clean... I personally find myself repeatedly and frequently distracted by every object with which I come in contact. Oh-- this old thing! Oh-- I should alphabetize these! Oh-- I haven't read this in months! Do I need this? And cetera. I wouldn't even know where to begin. And so easily remedied this problem. One of the best investments one could make. So. It's sparkling clean. It makes me feel better.

And I didn't even have to store Madeline anywhere... The women that came yesterday were cool and pretty and they did awesome. The ones I got the last time sucked. I'D done better. But yeah.

Sigh. I'm reading my favorite book again. Of course I forgot how good it was... It's over a grand pp long... I'm tired and...

School's almost over... I'm probably gonna do pretty well... It's COMMUNITY COLLEGE and I only took two classes so it's kinda like I better do well... But still, it was hard to manage, caused all this stress and... It's still an accomplishment... Just to get it done with... I kinda doubted I could, and they were valid concerns because it's quite possible I won't finish even these two classes and if I do it'll be by the skin of my teeth, so I'll be satisfied.

I have a cool gig. It's a movie. I'll be playing a stripper. Heh. Small thing, but... still... I know a lot of people wanna do this kind of stuff so it's hard to get these gigs.

I always think of the years starting and ending in June, because that's when school was over... So I'm looking back on this year like, What?

I don't know what to make of it.

I have nothing to say for myself. My coffee in the heat. Not steaming or cooling.

Scarlet-O's Fuck-Everything, Rainy-Day Set List:

1. Bone Machine- Pixies

2. Empire State of Mind- Jay-Z

3. On the Road Again- Bob Seger

4. Rock Me Baby- B.B. King

5. Creep- Radiohead

back.

I like working. I know I go back and forth but yesterday it was the only thing that I liked. I like dancing. I love it. I like making money. The people are funny and sometimes they're assholes and I don't even mind that.



Stefan- overit. He acted like a jerk, not a big deal, but enough to just turn me off. Immature, two-faced, not a gentleman, trying to be cool. I told him he was full of shit. I'm not even disguising names anymore because I don't care. I told Julian and he said it was good, he said some men respond to women being mean and step up to the plate, but that even if he doesn't it's good, because it would've been a bad foundation for a relationship. He asked me how I would've dealt with it before and I said back in October I just ignored all that stuff, all those red flags, and wanted him anyway, because we had a connection and I didn't want to give it up...



I said I wouldn't talk about Julian anymore, but screw it, because, it's not the same anyway... I've totally accepted that he's not into me like that, he's probably happily married with kids and why shouldn't he be... He deserves it. I think I'm still deep down really sad about it. But... I think maybe I talk to him more openly now... Well I do. I was just sitting there in silence blushing before. I talked to him about Stefan, even sex with Stefan, which was lousy, he drinks too much... and dancing, and the club... I was sitting with my boss and the DJ last night, the cool one I like who's only there two days a week who has picks me awesome new songs and has a sense of humor, it was late and everyone just left but I had hundreds of ones to count out because I made all my money on the stage, and the DJ was like, you rocked it out tonight it was raining bills every time you went on.. aren't you glad you stayed? and my boss was like, What, was she hovering? Don't you know, she's the Invisible Person. She's the disappearing dancer. She's there one minute and the next minute I have a call from her, hey, I'm on a plane halfway across the country... Hey, I needed to get out of there and go to another part of town... Hey Vinnie I'm down the street if you need me... We were DYING cu3 that's exactly what I say and I was like Vinnie you know sometimes I just caaaaaaaaaan't... and he was like, I know, it's OKAY, sometimes I can't either, but I'm stuck here. Hehe.

So after I finished telling that story I started tearing up, I was staring at the celing, and J asked, where did you just go? And I said, all over the place, I dunno... I'm not depressed... I'm doing things you know... I'm just sad, like this, all the time.. Why? And he said, well that's not an easy question to answer... but I do think the chemicals in your brain... tend to change sometimes, and put you here, and when there's nothing to pull you out of it, like talking to Jo, or skiing, or your music... it's kind of the default emotion...

Our time was running out and I was still sobby but I was putting on my shoes and he asked if I need a minute and as I nodded I started hysterically sobbing down into my knees, and I finally stopped myself, I made myself focus on something, I dont remember what, skiing maybe, moving with the mountain... and I said, Help.

He asked if I wanted to see him sooner, and I nodded. So I'm seeing him on Thursday instead of Friday. Thank God.

One of the guys last night wants to buy me a keyboard, like a really good one... That would be sweet. I don't know what it would entail... but the thought of like having an 88 key weighted Yamaha excites me a bit.

Nico

I went hiking with Em today. For 3 hours and it was so beautiful and I made us climb up the rocks and completely leave the trail and Em found a bunch of waterfalls... I was dreading work, my heart weighs a million pounds and it just seemed so awful... But I made myself go and as usual, it wasn't so bad. I actually made a decent something and this girl Nico is just so beautiful I die. She dances like, a hot dream, she's like a wet dream actually, and we were flirting a lot tonight. I don't really like girls like in that way, there's just nowhere for it to go... Sexually, physically, practically or in a longterm sense, and I don't even really know what she's like, but man I could watch her for days..

I dunno what it is now.

I went home early. I couldn't make a dime. I liked being onstage. Onstage I was great tonight... Better than ever. All the girls were watching, with their men from whom they were milking money like lifelong dairy farmers, they stopped and watched, each time, and they rarely do. But the rest of the time... I just COULDN't do it. I couldn't walk up to these guys. And when I did they just leered and grabbed and a lot were rude and it was one rejection after another despite everything. And then I'd walk away, and I feel so sad and rejected and horrible and look over 5 minutes later at them, being lead to the back by another girl. Any girl, every girl. I know why, I know I came off depressed, and passive, and it just doesn't work.

And I need the money. And I just can't get myself... I just couldn't walk up to these guys.

maybe I should figure out some other employment.

it's so bad in here, so dead, no money, girls beinf mean, and depressing as all get-out

Why Stripping Saved My Life.

I didn't go to work for like three weeks, high on myself, high on school, high on my love buzz, high on my music successes, feeling introverted, and intelligent, and above it all...

And finally I ran out of cash. And my boss, Tony called me, last week, and asked when I'd be in... so it was time to go in... and still I put it off... I just couldn't do it... And then on Thursday, when I really bottomed out in my depression about Julian, I made myself run 5 miles, and even that didn't do a dent, and I didn't wanna play, and I'd missed class in the morning (since which I've spoken to my prof and it's totally fine), and then I was like:

Okay S, get your ass to work. Like I always said I dance better when I'm sad.

And I went. And Tony was so nice. And the girls were all so nice, and we joked around, and I'd missed it, and a bunch of my regulars were there, and they were happy to see me, and I did well, and this kinda celebrity actor from a sitcom was there, and ended up hanging out with me all night, he wasn't gonna get a dance until he saw me dance to Empire State of Mind, he's from New York... He said Not to be cheesy, but you're hotter than all the other girls here, by like a lot... I said Please, keep it coming, I need it... And I told him about moving here and I told him about school... We went to get food after, and he gave me his number and called me the next day... He's really young, only 22, and been on this TV show since he was 18, and he so nice...

AND, AND, OMG-- what I thought would be my worst nightmare happened-- and it was fine. Funny even. I got off stage about to go talk to the TV guy cuz he was tipping a lot and said to come see him for a dance... And someone said- "Scarlet..." And I turned around and here he was, this face I recognized, a face I recognized in the club-- not FROM the club-- saying my name. "Judd. Remember?" He was from my hometown. My 5000-person, rural, hometown.

"Yeah! Wow! Hi!" (standing in silver hot pants, fish nets, my pavement glitter 6-inch heels and a black vinyl bikini top...)

"How are you?" he smirked a little.

"I am super! You?" I said with a big phony smile.

"I dunno... broke and couch-surfing..." He said. Which should have clued me into the fact that he wasn't trying to be a jerk, maybe, but... he might have been... he could've been... my thought instantly filled with thoughts of the rumor mills, plentiful as the windmills, pumping judgment from the North... my privacy had been invaded... and how dare he... this was my turf. So I treated it as such.

"Well okay, okay, first of all, if you're broke... what are you doing here." Carmen and Asia giggled behind me. I laughed. "I have to go talk to someone over there real quick, you'll be around, yeah? Okay, great." And I walked off.

When the night was over I told all the girls in the dressing room, which was nice, cuz they all were all funny and supportive...

And when I got out, dressed, he was waiting, outside the door... "So hey..." "Hey!" "You taking off?" "Well my friends were leaving but..." Oh god I thought, it's late, and I do not want to hang out, and if he's COUCH-SURFING-- "Are those your friends?" "Yeah," "Oh, go, go, go, go with them, we'll catch up, find me online or something!" I said. And that was good-bye.

But I got home, and I was certainly not depressed anymore. I'm looking forward to working again... I even hope I can make it as early as possible after my show rather than hang around there... It's fun... It's free of judgment... It's nurturing, in its own way... And most of the girls are really sweet, just living crazy lives, and often probably stressed about something, and sometimes it doesn't come out great, in that environment, being a bunch of scantily clad women essentially competing for the desire of men... Strange business. It never bothers me though...

I dunno, it's saved my life. It's allowed me my independence. It's actually allowed me to take better care of myself. It really has.

Three Martini-Lunch

I really should NAE be blogging. I should close my eyes, like they were on their own an hour ago, and f#$*ing go to sleep for once. But. In brief. (My idea of brief.)

Slept about four hours. Had to call in a radio show in the morning ("morning") to yap about myself since they were playing my stuff.

Ran six miles, to the hooker store, to buy my new shoes (CHOICE) and some outfits for work.

Took the bus back. Had a show at a hipster club, thought I had to be there at quarter to eight, in fact had to be there a half hour before that, thought they had a piano, in fact I had to bring my KK, don't have a case... Had to leave the second I got home, unshowered (two days, after a six mile run) or dressed or made-up, unpracticed, unprepared to drag KK and its accoutrements ANYWHERE... I had, for some reason, kept the cardboard Yamaha box he came in, so I stuff him and his stand in there, and the sustain pedal and a/c cables, and dumped my new shoes and clothes in to my huge stripper sack, and lugged the lot of it downstairs toward my car. The thing is like a 2x4 and everything probably weighed 100 pounds together, and a dude stopped up near me and offered me a ride to my car, thank god, he was a keyboardist too... So I got to my car, sped like a maniac to the Strip, couldn't find a spot to save my life, ran in, the weight of the world under my arm and probably my eyes, and- BLOODY HELL. My adapter and pedal were no.where. NO.WHERE.
BLOODYBLOODYBLOODYMARYHELL.
I even drove back and looked between my front door and where the guy stopped, not there, I only pray it fell out of the cardboard contraption in his car... If not it means they were picked up off the ground within like a half an hour... which seems unlikely... and if anyone is like, This girl is STUPID, letting strange men pick her up, etc, well, yeah, it might sound that way but I've always been trusting in that regard and it's never (knock on wood) failed me. He wouldn'tve stolen the stuff, it's pretty much worthless, except to me, on a night of a show, when no one else had a piano. We hadn't exchanged numbers but I gave him my card and prayed he'd call or e-mail at some point while I sat there, having found them, and bring them by. But alas. But I ended up talking to this guitarist and taught him the chords to one, one and a half-ish songs, and he was awesome... And... I was kind of nervous about this place, or would have been if I weren't so harebrained, and it ended up being REEEEALLY unimpressive. All the shows I've played here have been... to tell the truth... I dunno... Haven't done that many.

Anyway. I drove right to work from there though Carlos (the guitar player) invited me to come play another club, but I need the damn money so I can buy another ac and sustain tomorrow (ugh) and after the clothes today, and I realized, I can come in at 11 if I want. Really. I won't, cuz that's a jerky move, but I truly could. And I actually was really in the mood to, with all my new gear. And it was so fun dancing and actually being able to dance now that my shoes aren't hanging on my feet by a millimeter of clear plastic, and totally treadworn threatening to flip me on my ass every step... And I made a ton of money. Stupid ton. I've made a ton every night I've gone in this month. I just haven't gone in that many... I think that's part of it...

And I probably drank 6 vodkas in 2 hour, and then went to the diner with a fancy namedropping dude who invited me, and ate like a pig, and my eyes started to close. Here I am. Going to sleep. NOW.

Love and ladies of the night,

Scarlet-O

A Lapdance is...

"A lapdance is when a man pays a woman to treat him like a chair. A chair she really, really likes." -Demetri Martin

THIS POST WILL SELF-DESTRUCT...

.... I wish I could put up some pictures for you all (you nebulous, indeterminately-existent-"All"...) but I'm on the DL. Here's one though... I think it's safe enough... But this post may disappear soon-ish...

Another Stripper Question for a Shrink...

I did good tonight. I always do better when I'm sad... I come in, don't talk to anyone, do my make-up, dance different, more sex, more angst, more pathos... I drink more and I talk to the guys because... I'm there. And I don't wanna be anywhere else. There's nowhere else. Not at some better job, not with better friends, not with a man who loves me. So I dance. Dance the pain away.

My Playlist on Stage:

Buddy Guy- 5 Damn Years
Jay-Z- Empire State of Mind
NIN- Closer
Bob Seger- On the Road Again
Jonny Lang- Lie to Me

And Off to the Races.

Well time to suck it up, S-O, and go to work. Off you go, ma poule, my little chickadee, turn on the red light, bitch.