Hi there.  I know, I know, it’s been a while.  And this note is just that.  A note.  I have several drafts started and I will definitely continue to share my life with you – the past and the present.  That brings me to the point of this entry.  While I continue through life, busy with work, an interestingly brief and somewhat gross relationship and with my screenwriting endeavors,  I was reminded today of something so very important.

I made it out.

For now at least.  Stripping is quite similar to alcoholism – it’s a constant nagging reminder that it could chase all of your worries away in a single night.  You can pretend to be someone else.  You can pay your bills for the month in a single night.  And all you need is a breakaway thong, some stilettos and a smile.  I admit, I fantasize about being on the stage again every once in a while.  Yes, the pole beckons – even to me.

But I got out, relatively unscathed.  I’m blessed to have not gotten into too much trouble.  I’m blessed that fate intervened every so often, ousting me from a club, usually via firing, reminding me that I’m destined for greater things.

What if I had started stripping much, much younger?  Before I had a little bit of sense?  Before I knew that all of my problems wouldn’t be solved because I had a little bit of extra change in my pocket?  I don’t know if I would have been strong enough to resist the pressure.  I was fortunate to only succumb to alcohol – not that that’s anything to brag about, but drugs would have been a whole ‘nother habit to break.  I come from a family of addicts – drugs, alcohol, sex.  I’m lucky.  Some others, not so much.

I received news today that someone who worked for me died of a drug overdose last night: Monday, January 16th 2012.  She was very young.  In fact, when I hired her she wasn’t even of legal drinking age.  I’m so angry and incredibly saddened.  She came in whenever I called and needed more girls for the shift.  She was never any trouble, other than the occasional scuffle with her bestie, but that’s to be expected.  I mean, they were strippers ;-).

But she was a good girl.  I’d like to think that I had some positive influence, but obviously not enough.  I’m angry because I know that someone had to have seen her spiraling out of control.  I’m angry because this industry has no regard for the lives it chews up and spits out.  I’m fucking angry because she was a sweet girl…and didn’t deserve to go out like this.  For any one reading this who is still dancing, bartending, deejaying, serving, managing – what if she were your sister, your daughter, your bestie?

Something to think about.  I just had to take a moment…be safe out there.  Rest in peace, Bella.

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