Dust

I woke up on Ash Wednesday at 7:30am by to a text message from my landlord saying :

"Some guys may be coming by tomorrow to do some measurements to install some insulation. Is that ok with you?"

Of course, I say "Sure. Thanks for the head's up" for 2 reasons:

1)I don't speak contractor speak and don't fully understand what's about to go down. My landlord has made it sound like it's a piece of cake, rather than the nightmare that is about to unfold.
2)My contractor boyfriend had left and gone to the coffee shop and was not there to tell me that I should tell this guy to go fuck himself.

The next text message I receive says:

"Well, they may come by today and get started if they can."

A half hour later my landlord shows up with 8 construction workers and unleashes them on my house with no for warning or time for me to prepare. For 5 days, I couldn't stay in my house, ALL of my things had been rearranged and moved outside in the side alleyway for them to be able to do their work, and EVERYTHING I own is covered in a layer of sheetrock dust. The shit doesn't ever go away. It's awful. I am also missing a bag of costumes (I think someone is dancing around in my very expensive Spanish Harlet dress and wearing my thigh highs. And it's probably a dude) and a litter box. WTF, over.

It was more stress than I had anticipated but, as usual, I am always looking for the upside of things and the good news is that I can move out. I never did like this apartment and the rent is too high. My lease is for a year but since my landlord was such a douche about this whole situation, he doesn't know it yet, but I will be moving out. I figure it's a great time to just go ahead and get an apartment down in the neighborhood where I want to buy the building and start getting the lay of the land, getting to know the neighbors and neighborhood, and just start getting a presence down there. It's been a little harder for me to find a place than I thought it would be. There's still some real dodgy areas down there and I'm not totally familiar with everything so I am being really careful not to end up living next to some run down crack house buildings that were projects at one time. That would be great.

Slowly but surely, I'm spoonfeeding the city of New Orleans exactly what I want The New Orleans School of Burlesque to encompass. I just had Jo Boobs and Jonny Porkpie (www.schoolofburlesque.com) in town from New York. I set up some workshops for them and they did their show as well. It was a great turnout. I am really, really trying to set a precedent here and make New Orleans a place where burlesque performers from other places can come and WANT to come. I got an email from Bunny Love (www.bunnyloveburlesque.com), who is originally from New Orleans, and she will be coming here for Jazz Fest. It was very exciting to hear from her and that she deemed me as a "go to" person for getting gigs, networking, and setting up a workshop for her to teach. This is what I am going for...and it's all happening. Making these performers available to us down here and making this a destination performance spot just like NYC, St. Louis, LA, and all the other major players in the burlesque world.

I'm happy. I'm working harder than I've ever worked in my life. And I've got so much to do...and I intend on doing it.

Lap dances, Mardi Gras, and the art of making money

I drive around the Bywater daily looking at buildings to hopefully purchase. I saw one the other day on Piety. Kind of in the dodgy section but not totally...still close enough to where everything is building up. It's really amazing to be down there and see all the work in progress. The building is selling for a pretty reasonable price and has a 2 bedroom apartment upstairs. The agent said that the owner would be willing to owner finance possibly with a rather large sum of money down as a down payment--ya know, only $30,000 or so (no problem-o. Just hand me my purse real quick...). It's beyond me that people are able to create that kind of money for themselves but, clearly they must because people buy houses everyday. So, that means I can too. And the lap dances continue....

Over Mardi Gras I had quite a few gigs. One of which was a repeat of last year and is a private party for a group of gentlemen who ride in a parade and rent out the upstairs balcony of a Bourbon Street daiquiri shop. Last year I walked away with nearly $900. Up to that point, I had never walked away from any stripping gig with that much money. This year was a little different. There were less guys, for starters. There was a up and downside to this. The down being the obvious one--less guys equals less money. Basically we give lap dance after lap dance after lap dance at $20 each. The upside is that there were a few girls there who were not really hustling which was good for me because it gave me a chance to work on the hustle capabilities that I do not necessarily have. I got to use these guys as a test drive to figure out what a guy is really looking for in a lap dance (besides the one skeavy one who wanted to put his hand in my g string). What I learned and finally understand is this: Men go to strip clubs to get what they aren't getting at home or anywhere else. Whether it be beauty, a hug, a whisper in the ear, conversation, or just someone hovering over his genitals. I had always heard these things, but never really understood it. And that day made me really grasp that. I felt bad a little and the mother in me wanted to coddle them. Hug them tighter. And it honestly allowed me to really get into character and give these men the attention that they were so deprived of. To feel a grown man sink into the space between your ear and your neck because he's just so happy that you are giving him some contact, it honestly actually feels kind of nice to give someone something they need and it might be one of the only things that is going to allow me to survive this whole experience.

Along with my new found understanding, I also ordered a pole to put up in my house so I can start working on some more pole tricks. And I've decided to try incorporating the femme domme in me into my stripper persona.

I walked away from that gig with less money than I had made last year but with a lot more confidence and a better understanding of what I need to do in this business to make the money I need and get the studio bought and up and running. $30,000....that's a lot of lap dances. Bring it on.