Strippers Have a Story

I have my homework nest built and I’m ready to settle in for roughly six hours of homework. I knew that the Rogue Mare needed to pour some of her own grammatically incorrect, non-math related words out of her head to be able to proceed with the mind numbing world of “have to do” things.

I recently found myself in the midst of topless dancers. Yes mom, (she reads my blog), I was hanging around strippers. I’m sure that this does not even phase my mother though. If it does, she’d never show it. I would consider mom to be pretty conservative but she knows her daughter is always looking for a story. A person’s story, an animal’s story or her own story.

I’m not really sure how to label the girls that I met. It doesn’t matter to me though because, when I’m not at work, do folks refer to me as my occupation? No, they don’t. I’m just gonna call them “the girls” for the duration of this post. This paragraph caused me to think about how family members would say, “My son brought a stripper to Christmas dinner.” Would that same family member say, “My son brought a library assistant to Thanksgiving dinner?”

I spoke with girls who, for the most part, like their job, some who hated it but needed the money, and some who didn’t think there was anything wrong with what they did. I can identify with all of those feelings in regards to career choices and I’m sure most of you will concur.

Every face has a story. The girls were very open about who they were, if they had children, where they were from, whether they were going to college or merely trying to survive. Some are just trying to stay well enough to make it through the day. When I say well enough, I mean that they have found themselves to be addicted to drugs and they need this job to buy or trade the substance that keeps them functioning.

The girls were very kind. They were telling me how beautiful and sweet I was! No, they weren’t trying to get money from me. That was not the forum in which this meeting took place. They were just happy to talk to someone who was interested in who they were. That, gentlemen readers, is how you get a girl to like you.

The girls are people with beautiful bodies, stunning smiles and tortured souls. Many of us, especially artists, have tortured souls. You may or may not agree with the fashion in which they make their living but that is extraneous. Wait, I take that back, it is of greatest significance. Many career choices have the ability to derive a negative connotation. My first job was at a pizza joint. I seem to recall a pastor asking my parents if they were okay with my working at an establishment that sold alcohol. Really? He had the nerve to ask that while his daughter worked as a checkout girl for a local grocery store! I’m sure that she rang up her share of beer and wine on any given day. Funny thing is, the pizza place I worked at didn’t even serve alcohol.

I’m almost down to the conclusion. The core of my experience is that I respect the girls. We live in a money driven society. It is an animal that most of us have created. These girls pay sales tax and pay  into the economic system just as much, or more, than you and I. Sexuality sells.

“Judgements prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances.” ~ Wayne Dyer

Peace from the Rogue Mare

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Altering traditions to make life fit

Being a divorced parent has its drawbacks. I think that it caused my youngest son to hate any and every holiday because of being stretched too thin and trying to make it to everyone’s house to make everyone happy. He’s the type of kid who will just give up if he’s losing the race, so when it comes to the holidays he’s the one who will go hide in a cave and not visit anyone.

That being said, being a divorced parent has its benefits. I don’t have to share miserable holidays with the father of my children! Gotta look on the bright side, right?

This year I’ve decided to make the ultimate decision that our family and close friends will celebrate Hanukkah. It has always intrigued me. The tiny little area in stores that has set aside two square feet of decor for some of the most persecuted people in history. I always wondered about the Jewish traditions and belief system, but then again, I’m very curious about many beliefs. I guess I’m more interested in Judaism due to the fact that my beliefs have Hebraic roots. I believe in tolerance for any belief system as long as no one mistakes tolerance for weakness. Aside from the “religious” (don’t like that word) aspects of the evening, I’m just looking forward to enjoying time with my family.

I suppose I should call what we’re celebrating Chrismukkah. For some reason I’m not completely comfortable with that. If someone told me it was okay then I’d probably believe them. From what I know, Messianic Jews celebrate Hanukkah so that’s how I’m keeping it real.

Hanukkah also has many benefits in the fact that you have eight days to share your tradition, gather with family and friends and most important, learn a bit of history regarding Judaism.

We will be eating fried food, lighting the Menorah and sampling some Maneschewitz!

My husband is very conservative so this is going to be a stepping stone for him. He might just sit in the corner eating a matzo ball but that’s okay. He married me because I’m fun, keep things interesting and a stone-cold fox. hehehe

My oldest son was the sweetest when it came to my “changing up” of tradition. He said, “But I still want to see you on Christmas.” I told him that would be wonderful but that I just didn’t want he and his fiance to feel pressured to being somewhere at a certain time. What a sweet man I raised!

As we enter the winter solstice, may you all enjoy a peaceful holiday and enjoy your families. Try not to stress about the gifts. The greatest gift has already been given.

Peace from the Rogue Mare

In the beginning…..

When I first sat down to write I received a rush of insecurity when thinking about how folks might pick apart my misuse of commas, under-developed knowledge about religion or politics and any other area I may decide to blog about. How sweet it is to know that I chose to blog about being human. As humans we all have different ideas, levels of intelligence, levels of compassion and we understand God to be many different things. To be human is a walk of tolerance, war, suffering and don’t forget joy.

This blog is open to anyone’s enjoyment, criticism, release of anger or if you feel that I need to educated on a certain topic. The topic of who God is will be tricky though if your intent is to sway me. The price is firm on that one. These are my words and I will be more in tune with others by expressing myself this way.

Thanks to all of my fellow humans out there for walking with me through this life. May we enjoy one another’s differences and learn to play well with one another.

Peace from the Rogue Mare