Employed.

I devoted the week to preparing myself physically, mentally, and spiritually for this work. I've been to yoga classes, reflecting on surrendering, meditating to candle light. I was lying on my back during a hatha class, and the instructor said she wanted to ask each of us to sacrifice something of ourselves through our hour together.

"What can you contribute to the world that is possibly painful for you give up?? It may be on a physical level or it may be a character trait."

I began to loosen up about offering my body to strangers for money so that I can survive during this horrible economic time. The yoga helped me break through the patterns of resistance. The instructor came along and pressed my shoulders deeper into the mat. I had no choice but to surrender physically and then emotionally. I left feeling like I can do this. I felt wonderful after moving in sync with other people.

I had a rehearsal run to a strip club yesterday. I put on blue jeans, a tight t-shirt, and high heels. I stuffed costume pieces into my bag in case. Then I got into my car. First I had to pick up a check from the college kid's mother for tutoring him. "How are you?" She asked, looking me up and down.

Practically starving.
Barely making it.
Worried.

Little did she know I was on my way to a strip club to apply for work and little did she know what I was wearing beneath the jeans and t-shirt. "Managing," I answered and thanked her for the money. Right away I deposited the check at the bank and got food because I have barely had enough to eat this week. I dream of sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes in butter, stuffing and turkey drowning in gravy, cranberry sauce, green beans, brussel sprouts, rich pie...

I drove north to the club and circled around for 30 minutes listening to music. Finally I entered the parking lot, my soul filling with sadness. I felt sad about many of the men who frequent this place, the lack of affection and love they might receive in their lives from a woman, and that they will pay tons of money to see women topless and have their attention. I felt sad about some of the women caught in this business; for me it is temporary; for some it is their career. It was such a seedy, awful place. I watched the men walking in. I wanted to hide. I drove away fast. I went to a yoga class that night and tried to accept this reality more.

Today, I knew I had to do it. I selected a different club, one that caters to more higher end clients, a club I feel more comfortable about working at. I walked in through the doors, spoke to a manager, and was hired to be a dancer on the spot, shoving aside my pride, my preconceived notions, my upbringing. More details on the inside workings of the club to come. My first day is tomorrow.

"But you're selling yourself." (Almost as much as a waitress is)
"But you're selling your goods." (Whatever that means)
"Don't you feel ashamed of dancing like that?" (For showing my body to strangers who want to look at me? No.)

I think that American society has some rather serious complexes surrounding sex and the body. I'm not a bad girl, a whore, a sell out, or somehow less as a person for being a topless dancer. I do have an issue with the system in that it is completely controlled by men and for men, and I do find some parts of it really degrading to women.

I consider myself a free spirit, a healer, a performance artist, and I certainly won't starve from here on out. Cheers to that.