Dishonestly Speaking...

[Background: Text conversation between me and a wildly successful, charming, relatively-older-than-me-but-still-on-the -young-side New Yorker I briefly dated. We had great chemistry, he made me laugh, he has money coming out of his ears-and after two broke and dependent boyfriends, it was nice to meet someone with some financial stability. Call me crazy, but I actually might of liked the guy and could've seen us turning into something serious.  Downside? He made it very clear that he was after one thing, and one thing only, and made me feel like he didn't take me seriously.]

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Former Suitor: 'Hey KP. How are you?'

Me: 'I'm well, thank you. I am dating an old flame. [fib] We're doing great! [fabrication] Parent's adore him. [falsehood] I'm happy [untruth] I think we might turn into something serious this time. [falsity] He's just what I'm looking for: funny, smart, tall, dark, and handsome with the smoothest chocolate skin I've ever seen! [my pants are currently on fire. Also, I'm deliberately describing a man who has every physical attribute, and I'm alluding to every attribute, you wish you had.] Things are looking up at work, too [lie]. Still climbing that corporate ladder [flat out lie]! I hope all is well for you. [truth] Please lose my number. [absolute truth] This is good-bye [irrefutable truth].'

No leg warmers, please

Tonight I wore a fuchsia tutu, light pink teddy and a cowboy hat.  I had put on some light grey and electric yellow zebra-patterned leg warmers, but was asked to take those off before I began to pose in the [otherwise] buff.


On that note, I'm beginning to see why my friends question my actual activities during my art modeling gigs...

Texts have no tone...

Dear Sir,

What part of "Eat shit and die," implies, "Nah dawg, send her a text in about a month's time. She'll be cool with that,"?


Regards.

Dunce Cap.

For maybe the 2nd or 3rd time now my mom happens to pass by as I am browsing online for exotic dancer shoes. I have my eyes on a classy, clear pair with floating star glitter in the platform bottom of the shoe. Mind you, this pending purchase is for the pole fitness classes I take with the goal of getting my beach body back and improving my wrist strength [for rehabilitative purposes only, I assure you].

She then asks if I am considering picking up dancing on the weekends as another side gig.  Understand that my becoming a stripper- a bad, goofy stripper- is a joke between my sister, mother, and me because of my other, more innocent behaviors and habits [read: I used to undress and jump in our kiddie pool as a toddler, and now as an adult I am comfortable in my skin]. Naturally, I joke back, "sure, why not?"  She then responds that she is asking in all seriousness, considering I am planning on attending graduate school soon and will need to finance this venture on my own...


*Sigh* There are scholarships for a reason...

A good teddy going to waste...

Buying leingerie for purposes other than what it's actually meant for is probably one of the most depressing activies a single lady can do. It's like preparring a dinner for two, but with the intention of saving the second portion of the meal for break time at work the next day.

With that in mind, I bought a few costumey, lacey, colorful numbers for up coming art modeling gigs to switch it up from the mundane and expected [i.e. my naked body*sigh*].
What. a. waste.

Combined Interests

I take exotic dance lessons at a local studio after my regular 9-5.  On weekends, or on nights I'm not dancing at the studio, I art model for local art leagues. The pole classes are relatively expensive, but fun and therefore worth it; the art modeling pays a mere pittance, but I enjoy the art and atmosphere.

To recap:
I dance around a pole for fun, and take my clothes off for a measly amount of money. If only there were some way of combining these two activities to make some actual bank.

Think, woman, think!

B.S.

Dear wildly attractive, relatively successful, and probably closest to my ideal suitor,

Sometimes I just think you are straight up bull shitting me. There is no way you are that interested in an awkward little rapscallion like me. But just in case you are genuinely captivated by whatever charms I may have, please forgive any and everything that will spill from my lips during any and all interactions with you.

Thanks. Really appreciate your understanding.

Cheers.