Ghost Stories
God damn him for being 20. Seriously. Sometimes it can be so easy to forget, but, in the end it can’t be ignored. And god damn you Dan Savage for pointing out that I know of no one who is with the person they dated when they were not yet able to drink in bars. Thanks for engorging my sense of impending doom. Seriously. Feeling so doomed... *sigh*
You do it to yourself, you do.
Do other girls do this? I swear this didn't used to be so terrifying. It used to be so easy to put my heart in someone's hands and trust that I was the best thing that's ever happened to them and it couldn't possibly hurt that bad... Up until last year, with one exception, I was always to one doing the heart-breaking. It was a lot easier to just assume that I was the one always moving on to better things. But here I am now, and, he’s just so seemingly close to perfect. And I’m already so very attached. Last night I worked myself up into having nightmares about him leaving me for someone almost ten years younger than me. Really Josie? Things are going so very right. So why am I so hellbent on focusing on what will inevitably go wrong? For all I know I will be the one that finds he doesn’t meet my needs, or I will be the one that gets sick of him. I need to learn to relax...
I pissed off his best friend recently. Which has had me in a growing panic. It is just empirically not a good thing to be on the outs with someone who has more sway in your lover’s life than you do. Said panic also has me realizing just how invested I am in this. It wouldn’t be quite so bad. Except that he came through for me in a big way last month as I’ve said before, when I desperately needed him to be that perfect, amazingly supportive, deceptively strong man, he was. And then my eyes got real big and everything in me said “THIS. THIS, is the kind of man I want for *x* and *y* and *z*. OMG, THIS.” I’ve offered up the opportunity for him to move in with me when his lease is up. I don’t know what he’ll decide to do. On the one hand, we spend every possible night together already any ways. On the other, I am not easy to live with and I think he’s gathering that from spending so much time with me over the last four months. The hesitation has me feeling insecure. Hell, every little thing lately has me worried that he’s finally going to realize that I’m just not *that* awesome. And the more insecure and needy I get the more I feel like I must be lame and annoying and... You see where I'm going here?
Sure, you can love someone as much as you want. But then to really know that they know how to be there for you and can really do it. That they can and will take care of you. Now that, that is something special, something new. There it is. He really is different. And *twenty*. Whereas I am getting so very close to thirty. Which means I absolutely must assume that this is temporary and something to enjoy and savor while it lasts before he takes flight.
God damn is life bizarre. And so are my ever changing wants/needs/hopes.
(Lately he’s been coming up behind me on the treadmill, so warm from just lifting heavy, and putting his arms around me and his body up against mine. Such an amazing feeling. So many little pieces of perfection, all the time. It kills me.)
Someone sit me down, tell me to relax, and assure me that Murphey’s Law is bullshit.
* * *
My work is so very odd...
It is at once so ego affirming, and so deflating. In the past week I have seen two regular customers of mine jump ship for other girls. Because they are prettier? Because they give hand jobs in the VIP room? Because they are cheaper? Because the customer simply wanted some variety? No bloody clue. But it certainly smarts...
It has become harder and harder to make money. Some of this I’ve done to myself. The longer I’m there, the more vital it seems to become to keep my head in the game. It can be so easy to forget the attitude, the strategy, the persona, that works so well. Or at least better. There’s also the simple fact that there are more girls and just as many customers as there ever was. I don’t compete very well... My stage show, myunique & curvy appearance, my legitimate personality, the genuine respect and caring I have for my customers until they truly earn otherwise, these are my only selling points. I’m not a terribly dirty dancer. I’m not cheap. I’m not a hustler. I’m not a super model. I am a fair business woman. And I do remain somewhat intimidating and not terribly tolerant of bullshit.
And so, I make far less money than many of my counterparts on any given night.
So be it.
Sometimes I get jealous. Sometimes when they’re making hundreds and I’m struggling to break one, I wonder and doubt. But, I get a little too much satisfaction out of not being your typical stripper. *shrug* And I gloat a bit about being able to go to bed guilt-free every night. The fact all my bills are paid and my savings are growing helps too.
That said, I wish I could muster the commitment to lose 10 pounds. And to get breasts that stay full and up on their own. This despite feeling overall, more sexy and attractive than I ever have. The more time you spend looking at yourself, the more you want to look exactly as you wish you looked.
* * *
Today, My Favorite Micah helped me get an excellent deal on a Nikon D90 camera. It is an *excellent* camera...
I am very, very stoked on this. I greatly desire to become an expert photographer of cocktails and greatly enjoy the learning process. And a very pleasant decent into artful alcoholism.
Life is good. Tough. Trying. Mostly because of myself. But good.
You do it to yourself, you do.
Do other girls do this? I swear this didn't used to be so terrifying. It used to be so easy to put my heart in someone's hands and trust that I was the best thing that's ever happened to them and it couldn't possibly hurt that bad... Up until last year, with one exception, I was always to one doing the heart-breaking. It was a lot easier to just assume that I was the one always moving on to better things. But here I am now, and, he’s just so seemingly close to perfect. And I’m already so very attached. Last night I worked myself up into having nightmares about him leaving me for someone almost ten years younger than me. Really Josie? Things are going so very right. So why am I so hellbent on focusing on what will inevitably go wrong? For all I know I will be the one that finds he doesn’t meet my needs, or I will be the one that gets sick of him. I need to learn to relax...
I pissed off his best friend recently. Which has had me in a growing panic. It is just empirically not a good thing to be on the outs with someone who has more sway in your lover’s life than you do. Said panic also has me realizing just how invested I am in this. It wouldn’t be quite so bad. Except that he came through for me in a big way last month as I’ve said before, when I desperately needed him to be that perfect, amazingly supportive, deceptively strong man, he was. And then my eyes got real big and everything in me said “THIS. THIS, is the kind of man I want for *x* and *y* and *z*. OMG, THIS.” I’ve offered up the opportunity for him to move in with me when his lease is up. I don’t know what he’ll decide to do. On the one hand, we spend every possible night together already any ways. On the other, I am not easy to live with and I think he’s gathering that from spending so much time with me over the last four months. The hesitation has me feeling insecure. Hell, every little thing lately has me worried that he’s finally going to realize that I’m just not *that* awesome. And the more insecure and needy I get the more I feel like I must be lame and annoying and... You see where I'm going here?
Sure, you can love someone as much as you want. But then to really know that they know how to be there for you and can really do it. That they can and will take care of you. Now that, that is something special, something new. There it is. He really is different. And *twenty*. Whereas I am getting so very close to thirty. Which means I absolutely must assume that this is temporary and something to enjoy and savor while it lasts before he takes flight.
God damn is life bizarre. And so are my ever changing wants/needs/hopes.
(Lately he’s been coming up behind me on the treadmill, so warm from just lifting heavy, and putting his arms around me and his body up against mine. Such an amazing feeling. So many little pieces of perfection, all the time. It kills me.)
Someone sit me down, tell me to relax, and assure me that Murphey’s Law is bullshit.
* * *
My work is so very odd...
It is at once so ego affirming, and so deflating. In the past week I have seen two regular customers of mine jump ship for other girls. Because they are prettier? Because they give hand jobs in the VIP room? Because they are cheaper? Because the customer simply wanted some variety? No bloody clue. But it certainly smarts...
It has become harder and harder to make money. Some of this I’ve done to myself. The longer I’m there, the more vital it seems to become to keep my head in the game. It can be so easy to forget the attitude, the strategy, the persona, that works so well. Or at least better. There’s also the simple fact that there are more girls and just as many customers as there ever was. I don’t compete very well... My stage show, myunique & curvy appearance, my legitimate personality, the genuine respect and caring I have for my customers until they truly earn otherwise, these are my only selling points. I’m not a terribly dirty dancer. I’m not cheap. I’m not a hustler. I’m not a super model. I am a fair business woman. And I do remain somewhat intimidating and not terribly tolerant of bullshit.
And so, I make far less money than many of my counterparts on any given night.
So be it.
Sometimes I get jealous. Sometimes when they’re making hundreds and I’m struggling to break one, I wonder and doubt. But, I get a little too much satisfaction out of not being your typical stripper. *shrug* And I gloat a bit about being able to go to bed guilt-free every night. The fact all my bills are paid and my savings are growing helps too.
That said, I wish I could muster the commitment to lose 10 pounds. And to get breasts that stay full and up on their own. This despite feeling overall, more sexy and attractive than I ever have. The more time you spend looking at yourself, the more you want to look exactly as you wish you looked.
* * *
Today, My Favorite Micah helped me get an excellent deal on a Nikon D90 camera. It is an *excellent* camera...
I am very, very stoked on this. I greatly desire to become an expert photographer of cocktails and greatly enjoy the learning process. And a very pleasant decent into artful alcoholism.
Life is good. Tough. Trying. Mostly because of myself. But good.