The journey begins....

*Disclaimer* There are going to be some things in this blog that my friends, family, and fans will learn about me for the first time. And for better or worse, this is me. You can judge me for it--but I am prepared for that and will still like/love you anyways. I have a goal to accomplish. And the ways I choose to go about doing that have nothing to do with you. So, now that you have been forewarned, repeat after me "I understand and wish to continue."

I think my goal is simple of course. I don't think I have wanted something so bad in my life honestly. Owning and operating New Orleans' only dance studio dedicated to the education of burlesque is what I am referring to. I will buy a building that is studio space on the first floor and my home will be on the 2nd floor. As I figure out what master plan will work to enable me to purchase a building and put all this into practice, I have already hit some bumps on the way. The thought of owning something was never on my radar. I didn't think I'd ever have the means or the know how to ever get my shit together enough to buy something. I knew that people all around me were doing it--but I also know that these people didn't decide to start having kids at 19, so I kind of just thought that my choices made me handicapped to certain things. For example, having money (along with many other things but, I'll save that for another blog). And then having enough money to buy something and make a dream come to fruition.

*Warning! This piece of information you're about to read, you may not have known about me before now.* Along with burlesque dancing, I have worked at various stripclubs off and on around New Orleans for additional income. I have 2 children in private school--it's expensive. I started stripping on occasion to help pay for the monthly tuition. For the most part, I did ok. I don't even know why to be quite honest with you. I am not a hustler. And I have a hard time putting a lid on my natural ability to be a smart ass--especially not long enough to trick you into thinking I like you and think you're hot and hope that you will give me money for pretending. I think I did well on some nights because of my looks. Sometimes because I got lucky. Sometimes because the guy was just really drunk. And sometimes because the guy liked my sense of humor and thought that it was sexy.

Up until a few weeks ago, I hadn't stripped in a while. I didn't really need to. I was doing pretty well financially and quite honestly, didn't have the time to do it. I took a full time day job in November out of necessity after working for myself for nearly 3 years. It's been really rough. I have lots of past retail management experience but, I also remember that there was a huge reason why I left it too. And the last 3 months have been a reminder of that. If it weren't for the people I work with, I wouldn't have made it this far (I like how I've managed to make 3 months sound like such a long time. That's hilarious.) Truth is, I wasn't put on this planet to be in retail management--I was put here to dance. I was put here to be a medium for other people to learn how to pull their self confidence out of their toes and get on stage and strut their stuff. I was put here to entertain the masses. I was put here to be apart of what keeps the heart of New Orleans beating. I wanted to open this studio some time ago and some things came along and it got put away to the backburner but now, it's something that I think about day in and day out and I want it to happen so bad that it makes my skin burn. I devised a plan that will make this dream come true, and here it is:

1) Quit day job. Running someone else's business for them will not do anything for wanting to run your own.

2) Learn the art of the hustle and begin stripping 3-4 times a week at club or clubs of choice.

3) Use the bulk of the mad cash that you plan on making at said clubs to pay off your car. Your one and only debt. Approximately $5342.47.

4) Continue to do burlesque gigs, teach classes, gogo dance, makeup gigs, and pretty much any other side gig that comes along. As per usual.

5) Once mad cash has paid off your car, start stashing away to use as a down payment towards the building.

6) Search for ideal building in the Treme, Bywater, and surrounding areas.

7) Buy building. Move in. Take over the world.

Last night I decided that it was time to start putting this plan into practice. I have already put my notice into the day job and will be leaving there after Mardi Gras. I don't have my kids on Tuesday nights because they go with their dad. So, after working all day at the day job, I headed over to the French Quarter in a pretty good head space. I was going to go in early and avoid an exorbitant house fee. Gee, I'm so smart. I put on the outfit that I feel most confident in: a long grey scarf from American Apparel that I wrap around my neck, across my boobs, and tie it behind my back, some gunmetal grey shiny stripper panties that tie on the sides and have ruching in the buttcrack to make your ass look pretty cute, and my favorite black patent leather Bordello heels. I was ready. I was going to sashay by every man in that place and wow him and the money was going to come pouring out of his wallet like blood pours out of slaughtered pigs. I had the confidence of a smug teenager and I was planning on making the first night of the Master Plan be a big one. The first 3 guys walk into the club at around 7:30pm. I was the first entertainer of the evening and I took the stage. I shimmied up the pole, hung upside down, spun around it with my cat like slinkiness and landed in a split. I pulled out all my best tricks because well, they were the only 3 guys in the place and it should be easy to get their money because right now, they've got my full attention. After my set, I saunter over to their table. They seemed pretty decent in the beginning. They told me that they had just left another neighboring club and came here because the "girls are prettier." After running through the typical run-of-the-mill stripper questions (what's your name, where are you from, blah, blah) it's customary to ask the customer what brings him into this fine topless establishment. I was told that the young man across the table had been in court that day for attempted murder. My smart ass nature bubbles up to my lips but I do a good job of squishing it back down long enough to encourage him to get a lap dance in celebration for not being in jail (ok yeah, that was smart ass of me. But I did it in a sexy way. I promise). I proceed with my dance for the length of the song. He sits in his chair completely indifferent. His indifference is sucking the self confidence right out of me at rapid, rapid world record breaking speeds. The song ends and I turn around to collect my $20. He looks at me and says "My girlfriend does it better." At this point I didn't even know what to say. His friends are behind him giggling and fumbling because they didn't expect him to say that either. He refused to pay me for my time. It was a kick in the gut honestly. Instead of starting off the night with kicking someone in the balls, I decided to be the bigger person and walk away (I already was the bigger person just for the simple fact that I wasn't being accused of killing anyone. So there, asshole.)

The customers slowly started to trickle in and my self esteem trickled out. And my performance showed it. What I realized last night is that I am a decent pole dancer--not a good stripper. Not only did I not make much money last night, about $13 of the measly $35 I had managed to make had gotten stolen by some other stripper or customer while I was on stage. I watched a goth dominatrix win the affections (by affections, I mean money) of a middle aged man I had been sitting with for a little while and when that happened, I was through (To her credit, she was amazing. She did some pole tricks that were downright a la Cirque du Soleil. I'd had given her my money if I were middle aged and overweight too). All my insecurities were screaming at me at that point and I just couldn't take it that night. I had started my period the night before, my first encounter of the night was with an attempted murderer, I don't drink so there is nothing there to buffer any of those things, and as much as I didn't want to accept it, I am a complete wreck because the 1 year anniversary of my mother's death is in 5 days. One of the main reasons for my drive is because of my mom. She'd probably be mad at me at first for doing this--but I once she knew why I was doing it, she'd be moderately ok and would probably even want to hear the crazy stories. Last year was the hardest year of my life. It was filled with a lot of loss, a lot of disappointment, and more changes than I think one person should have to deal with. This year on the other hand is already off to a good start. And by the end of the year, I want to be living in my building.

I can do this.

And I'm happy to have you along on my journey.