Feb
08

What the Strippers Taught Me

By Suzanne · Comments (4)

I have been working on this post for a while. Almost a year. I was worried it would be so controversial all my readers would unsubscribe immediately. Or, certain family members would completely disown me. Or, worse, I would be considered an affront to womankind, anti-feminist and somehow promoting female slavery. Therefore, I would be booted from the sisterhood.

But, when I learn something from an unexpected source, I feel compelled to share. So, deep breath. Here goes.

This post is about what strippers have taught me.

First, know that I believe if someone wants to take their clothes off and titillate strangers for money, then that is their business. Choice is what the woman’s movement was all about anyway.

Secondly, I believe everyone has something to teach you – even the ones you’d never trade places with.

I have never been a stripper. I don’t understand why anyone would want to be. And, I have only ever had the occasion to see or talk to a “gentleman’s entertainer” three times in my life. But, those times taught me some things.

 The first time I met a stripper was at a party about 20 years ago.

I remember this woman looked like any 20 year old might in Washington, DC (where we were). I asked her what she did, professionally, because that is what you do in DC.  Your job is your identity. She answered, quite matter-of-factly, I’m a stripper. I recall being speechless. I probably said something like, “wow.” This is probably because that’s what I – being just 25 years old — could only muster on such short notice. She then went on to say how she had to leave. Her hair extension appointment was in an hour. And, apparently, she made much more money with long hair. I recall being appalled that hair length would have such an effect on her tips. But, then again, this was my first foray into a conversation with a professional exotic dancer.

Now, 20 years later, I started studying burlesque dance and the art of striptease for fun. (It’s important to keep one’s mind and body alive with fresh skill-building.) A number of other students and I decided to visit a strip club. We wanted to see how women danced outside of a private studio.

I realize my saying that going to a strip club to look for new dance moves is kinda like the guy who says he reads Playboy for the articles. So, I give up – in advance – that everyone will be convinced of this fact. But, it’s true. You can only learn so many dance moves without venturing out in to the world. So, that’s what we did. And, I ended up walking away with some lessons much, much better than how to bump and grind.

Both times I visited said gentleman’s clubs, I was with a bunch of women. No husbands or boyfriends came along. My male friends tell me they are shocked that they actually let us in. Apparently women don’t spend as much money. Also having “real women” sitting with the male customers makes the guys feel uncomfortable, like they’ve been caught or something. But, somehow, the bouncer let us in. We made sure to spend money and ignore the men. (I think we also were better customers – handing out $5s instead of $1s – and there never was any threat of us launching ourselves at the dancers.)

First, the art of striptease has a long history. At various times it was considered an art form. But, today, the movies have you believe anyone who strips for money is 1) a woman who has six kids at home — whom she has rescued from an alcoholic — and has no other choice to make this much money in such a short period of time in order to win that custody battle, or 2) is a woman who is also a drug addict and hasn’t a clue what she’s really doing.

I can’t tell you the real story.

But, what I can tell you is, that in my trips to said clubs, I saw beautiful but normal-looking women who seemingly came from all kinds of backgrounds and circumstances. Also, watching them “do their thing” was informative. So, I thank the women I witnessed and hope they are healthy and happy.

Here’s what I learned:

1. Professional strippers manage their energy brilliantly. It takes some serious energy management to dance, entertain and act interested in strangers for hours on end. But beyond that, these ladies know how to put out exactly the amount – and kind of — energy that gets them what they want.

They watch men’s reactions with an eagle’s eye, adjust their tone accordingly, and never, never steamroll their prey. They will be assertive, but not aggressive. They are direct, but you don’t get the sense they are going to hurt you. They know their male admirers must be enticed, intrigued and pulled in before getting close – hence, the long, slow crawl from the stage to the tip rail where the men wait for them.

Strippers understand that being strong and being vulnerable are not mutually exclusive.

So, while I am tempted from time to time to just “let the frustration fly,” “dump,” make demands and ultimatums, and other marital energy steamrolling activities, I remember the stripper energy management technique.  And, then, maybe I can remember how, it’s not that productive to launch myself at Husband when he first walks in the door, throwing my day’s happenings like hand grenades, failing to see the weary look on his face because he had his own daily bombs to handle. I have learned to assess the situation first, and know when to pull back and when to move forward.

2. Strippers know mystery is valued.  Stage names and encouraging the “upsell” to “that mysterious room behind the curtain” are just part of the game. If you want to know more, you – the guy – must act interested to be let in on the secret world.

Really good strippers (read: earn a lot of money) also know that men – when they realize they must encourage the dancer to stay focused on them either with dollar bills or attention — are more vested, long-term.

So, want your spouse to stay interested? Practice a bit of intrigue. Everyone wants something that is privileged, unpublished, classified – something that is secret. Let him know you are giving him something no one else gets. Then, mutually reward one another for that attention. Taking one another for granted is marital death.

3. Strippers don’t take any crap. They ask for attention, but that doesn’t mean they are a door mat. A certainly gentlemanly behavior is required at all times. So, while you ogle the beautiful dolls, be polite. One of the golden rules around receiving a lapdance, specifically, is no touching. You’ll be thrown out immediately. Manners are non-negotiable in strip clubs.

This goes for Husband-Wife stuff, too. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you get to throw your manners out the window.

4. They dance even when they don’t feel like it. Strippers have a job to do – even when it’s having to entertain some guy (who she’d normally never look twice at) making ga-ga eyes at them. Her response? Thank you for noticing.

This is a similar task to being married. Your spouse needs to feel your love and patience – even when you have worked eight hours, been to the dry-cleaners, the grocery store, driven through Rt. 29 traffic hell, and the first thing he asks you when you walk through the door is what’s for dinner? You don’t always want to converse with your spouse, but you should be thankful they notice you’ve arrived home.

5.  Smelling good counts. Strippers take into account the whole package they are presenting – from looking good to smelling good. In fact, as one of my friends said, they smell like freshly baked cookies. (We found out, from the strippers we encountered, that they wore lotion by Bath & Body Works called “Frosting”.)

While I am a proponent of dressing (and smelling) like you want, do take into account what your significant other likes. Everyone has their own version of what looks good, smells good, tastes good. Be your partner’s brand of delicious at least some of the time. (Ditto for them.)

6. They know what earns currency: focused attention. As a business owner, I found the business behind the strip club fascinating. The real money does not come from the single dollar bills handed out at the tip rail or even the alcohol sales (watered down as they were). It’s all about selling the $25, three-minute (timed) lapdance. That’s where the bucks are. And, men pay. Laser-focused, private attention is considered valuable in a strip club – to both stripper and recipient. Everyone wants to be chosen.

You want partnership commitment, adoration or something else as currency in your relationship? Focus. Commit. Choose him (or her). And, see no one else. Be interested not just interesting.

End of lessons.

So, what I did not appreciate at the strip club? How some of the guys made the dancers positively grovel for a mere single dollar bill. How simulated sex moves on the stage were more valued than showing off real dance moves. How the men never smiled.

(A friend called the look they did have on their face, the “trance.” Actually, she put another word in front of “trance,” but I’m pretty sure the Internet police would lock me up if I repeated it here. Oops, I guess I did look at the guys at some point.)

Did I learn any new dance moves? Not really.

Will I ever return? Probably not.

But, while you or I may not believe in a stripper’s choice of profession, just remember: there are lessons everywhere.

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Feb
07

Quote of the Week: Back Up

By Suzanne · Comments (0)

In honor of National Marriage Week (February 7 – 13)

Every man who is high up loves to think that he has done it all himself; and the wife smiles, and lets it go at that.  ~Sir J. M. Barrie

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I believe I am a champion grocery shopper. Fresh organic veggies. Check. Fresh basil for pesto. Check.  Salmon on sale. Check. Husband’s favorite cereal? Check. A case of wine (because you really want to earn that 15% discount, right?). Check.

Six bags later and we could open our own gourmet restaurant.

When I was single, I sucked at food shopping. It is hard to cook for one person. It’s even harder when that one person (me) travelled a lot for business. Add living in major city with abundant restaurants along with lots of single friends to hang out with and lots of single men to date, well, you could say eating in was the exception and not the rule.

But now married, the whole food business has been turned on its head. I learned how to shop. And, cook. (And, basically gained 10 pounds on the spot. I hear this story often from former single people now married and cooking most nights.)

However, getting married later in life adds to the change-up. For one, we have very definite ideas about what constitutes real food. We’ve had about 40 years to declare our different tastes. Nothing spotlights this more than around Super Bowl time. (Someone reallly needs to do a study about how much more food is sold due to football.)

This particular Super Bowl Sunday weekend also was special. We were expecting 28 inches of snow (which is about 28 inches more than we ever get).  I – along with the rest of the town – descended upon our various and sundry food stores a few days in advance to basically wipe them clean. I came home with, oh, about eight bags. This is a lot. Remember, there are only two of us. Oh, and one puppy.

But, apparently, I did not get all the right food. This is because yesterday, as the 28 inches of snow began to descend, Husband announced he was going food shopping.

What do we need? I asked.

Snacks for Sunday. He said earnestly. And, out the door he went into the blizzard to hunt down and drag home two tubs of hummus, one tub of guacamole, a bag of  chips, six boxes of various crackers, grapes, more beer (we were down to a measly six), three kinds of gourmet cheeses, a bag of carrots and broccoli for dipping, various fruit drinks, bananas, and I don’t know what else. It was three bags of snacks. For the two of us.

(He also proudly told me that, when he arrived, there was no guacamole anywhere. But, he tracked someone down who was unloading a truck to get the “just-shipped-in” fresh tub.)

We now could be snowed in for about three weeks and never have anything twice. I do believe we have more food in our kitchen than the Harris Teeter has left on its shelves.  I’m not exactly sure what the correlation between football and a sudden surge in appetite, but it’s there. Good thing it’s snowing. We’re gonna need some shoveling exercise.

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I’m not sure how I feel about this. A new report from Pew Research Center came out this month that shows Husbands around the country are making financial gains by being married. This is new, apparently. Wives are bringing bacon to the table like nobody’s business and men are, economically-speaking, the better for it.

Historically, women had to get married to reach certain economic thresholds. But, now due to women making their own money (and sometimes lots of it), they are actually adding to men’s financial status (versus the other way around). Also, as of December 2009, women account for 47.4% of the workforce – a new record.

Yeah, for us.

I am cheering inside that women are finally making gains in the workforce, being paid higher (though still not equal) wages, and having more choice than ever around career, motherhood and marriage. (Another threshold has been hit: a marked decline in the number of Americans who are married at all.  Among U.S.-born 30- to 44-year-olds, 60% were married in 2007, compared with 84% in 1970. In other words – if you want to get married, go ahead. If you don’t, don’t.)

Another part of me grew worried about this economic trend. And, I think it has to do with the way the news is being reported. It all sounds like men and women are, once again, being pitted against one another. Like who is winning and who is losing, who brings the most and who doesn’t. Ick.

Don’t get me wrong. I was raised by a feminist (seriously – she was part of the League of Women Voters and everything). I appreciate the gains made in male-female relationships and roles. So do a lot of people – men included.

About million years ago (being facetious), my college poetry teacher talked about the women’s movement one day in class. He said he was so relieved. It meant the full burden of being the breadwinner, the strong one, the everything in a relationship was being lifted. He could finally share “the load.” At the time it sounded quite enlightened. (He was interested in my roommate at the time, so there may have been some other intentions there, too. But, I digress.)

However, I do believe, if I was single I would have heard this news in one way. (Again, yeah, for us.) Now that I’m married I hear this news under a different perspective. I am thinking – how can I make sure Husband – who also has heard of this news —  continues to be empowered to 1) do fulfilling work and 2) bring home lots of bacon for it? I mean, I don’t want him to feel emasculated. (He tells me he’s not that delicate.) I also don’t want women to feel the pressure either. Something more equal would be nice. I really only want one leg of the marital pants – not the whole garment.

This Pew report was carried everywhere (newspapers, on Good Morning America, online, you name it). Some of the headlines simply talked about how marriage was becoming more equal, economically speaking. Other headlines were waving a flag like we’ve won a war or something. “Marriage Benefits Men More Than Women,” “The Rise of Wives,” “Modern Marriages: The Rise of the Sugar Mama,” and “Women’s Earning Power Shifts Economics of Marriage” to name a few.

In society we have rewarded men for their ambition. They must all want to be CEOs to be considered valuable. (Personally, I take issue with this. Ambition comes in all forms.) But, we may have created an impossible scenario for them, leading us to believe that this news (women actually adding to the marital pot of gold) is actually really, really big news. Not only should they all be CEOs, but they all should watch out because women are hot on their tails (economically speaking, that is).

I’m not so sure it’s nice to imply a group (in this case: men) are falling behind. And, that someone else is winning. I want equality, not overtaking.

Am I being oversensitive?

Below are some reports, research and commentary on this whole topic, if you’d like to read more:

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Feb
03

I Have a Puppy! Sort of.

By Suzanne · Comments (5)

Well, actually, she’s not mine. We’re puppy-sitting for two weeks while friends are on vacation.  And, I have been told, under no uncertain terms, by all parties involved (including Husband) that she is to return to her family upon vacation’s end. Ooooo-kay.

I am sure Husband has ulterior motives for this puppy stint. He is hoping it will cure me of my doggie desires. Ha. I have made no secret of my puppy lust. But, he continues to try to steer me in the direction of believing this is a lot of trouble. Subtly is not Husband’s strong suit in such matters, so I saw right through his veiled attempts at turning me off to puppy motherhood.

Puppy is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel with a baby face and sweet temperament to match. She loves to play, yet sleeps a LOT. These traits make it hard to not want one of your own. Husband still tries to stay neutral.

For one, the first time she “doo-dooed” (outside), she promptly decided to clean her butt (once inside) on the carpet. Husband picked her up, stuck her cute little tush in my face and said, get out the baby wipes. This is your job. (Subtle.) Husband sorely underestimated my resolve for puppy care, however. Wiping a butt the size of a teddy bear is not hard at all.

She slept through the first night with us, easily. Then, in the morning, she awoke at 5:30 a.m. needing to go outside. Husband poked me. She needs to go out, he announced and promptly rolled over. I could “feel” him smiling. I am sure he was hoping this early-rising to do puppy pee duty was going to turn me off immediately, given I am not a morning person. No such luck.

Puppy didn’t exactly want to be out in the new 12 inches of powder snow that we got the day before, either. She walked out, did her thing, and walked right back in. And, while earlier int he day her favorite pee spot at Chez LBB was the middle of the road in front of our house, she was easily persuaded to visit “out back” to claim a new spot that early, early morning. (We’re hoping once the snow melts and the asphalt reveals itself, she’ll also decide that’s not the best place to squat.)

Back into her crate, she was snoring again before my head hit the pillow. About two hours later she let us know she had enough of her crate and promptly crawled into bed with us. (Well, okay, I picked her up and assumed the snuggle position.) She was snoring again before I had a chance to rearrange the bed covers. She slept until 8:30. My kinda girl.

Husband was not amused. He thinks a Puppy-Wife conspiracy is being developed. Heh-heh-heh. We girls stick together.

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I wrote earlier I’d have to discuss this book in parts (part one), but I didn’t realize it would take me this long. It’s just that after getting half way through this book I needed to do something. I realized by page 201, I needed my mother.

One of my favorite parts of Gilbert’s book is where she recounts her conversations with her own mother. At that point, I simply had to stop reading to talk to my own mom about her experiences. I never outright asked my own mother about her thoughts on the subject at hand. Pieces of advice would float between us, but I never really asked the question: What is it about marriage that you like so much? I mean, my mother is the most optimistic person I know around this institution.

(She is now married to her fourth husband, “the one” who had not been married before. She lovingly describes their situation as, I am the first wife of my fourth husband. My mother has a great sense of humor.)

Also, I believed she would have lots to say because she went through some of the most tumultuous times around marriage – the 1970s. And, things were vastly different in that decade compared to today.

My mom grew up with the 1950s decree: Marry. And, soon.  Additionally, her father would write “MM” at the bottom of his letters to her in college. The “MM” stood for Marry Money. This was typical when growing up in the 1950s.

Instead, she married for love, at the ripe old age of 20, to a college professor with whom she had three children (myself included) through the 1960s while the hippies raged war on convention. The 1970s and 1980s brought the women’s movement, her own divorce and remarriage. I suspected she has much to say about how one should, can or might view marriage. She did.

First, I learned my mother was sold on the idea – as so many baby boomer women were – that your marriage would be the single most important thing in your life. That is the first myth that gets busted, said mom. But you do learn, she says, that it’s a game – it has rules, obstacles and if you are lucky and work on it – rewards. When people break the rules, marriage is the saddest place to be. But, when the rules are adhered to – it’s the happiest.

I asked about what she gave up, being married. (As an LBB, I simply had to believe there were moments of her wishing she was single in there.) She said there were times she would have done things differently, if single. But, overall, she had no regrets. Being married so young she never had the luxury of setting her own agenda without having to take account of someone else. Women who get married in life, however, need to learn how to take into account another’s wishes and desires at a level they have never experienced before. I asked mom how she did it. I mean, didn’t she just want to bust out sometimes? Yes, she did. But, she still loved being married. She said “the title of that book – Committed – that’s what it’s all about.”

In the end, I concluded much of what Gilbert did. There are no conclusions. It’s a messy business, this marriage stuff. There will come a time in every woman’s life, where she will need to make peace with her choices – to marry, to not marry, to marry later, or not at all. And, having mixed feelings about your choices is not only natural, it should be expected.

And, everyone’s reasons for coupling are different. One of my friend’s favorite quotes is Nobody knows what passes between two people…nobody. And, that may be just it. It’s different for everyone – the rules, the obstacles, the work, the prizes.

As Gilbert says, “every couple in the world has the potential over time to become a small and isolated nation of two – creating their own culture their own language, and their own moral code, to which nobody else can be privy.”

There is so much more I could say about Committed. But, I won’t ruin it for you. Rather, if you are a woman who has married after age 40, read this book, cover to cover. In order. The last 30 pages or so were important for me. But, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gotten it by skipping ahead.

Happy Reading!

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Jan
31

Quote of the Week: Change

By Suzanne · Comments (0)

People change and forget to tell each other.  ~Lillian Hellman

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Jan
28

Cooking Dinner. Not.

By Suzanne · Comments (6)

So, how bad is it that I just. don’t. want. to. prepare. dinner. anymore?

Moms around the world, I salute you. Cooking every night for a family must be a grind like none other. I am starting to feel your pain.

For first few years Husband and I were married, it was kinda cool. Finding fun new recipes, cooking for two, sitting down together. But, lately, I just haven’t felt like it. Call it cooking burnout. Or, food fatigue.

Most nights we’ve been munching before the TV on whatever I can throw together from the fridge and pantry.

Husband can cook, when he feels like it. But, I don’t see him stepping up to the stove in my absence. If I don’t make something, he’ll settle (happily) for a bowl of cereal.

If I had my druthers, I’d just do what I did when single – not eat at all or grab something on the way home. (See: Does marriage make you fatter? Why, yes, it does.)

My cooking doldrums have been going on for two months now. And, my motivation is getting weaker every day. Stopping at the grocery story on the way home to pick up prepared food isn’t giving me a thrill. In fact, grocery shopping on any level is too much.

We dine out more now. But, it gets expensive.

What I really want is for the food to just magically appear. I’ve looked into private chef service. Pricey.

So, I suggested Husband cook at least one night a week. His answer? That’s possible.

Possible or probable? I replied. He laughed.

I’d have to give it a try and see, was his answer.

Somehow I think this idea isn’t going to go anywhere.

Husbands around the world – who have wives who cook regularly – take note. Say something nice to your partner at the dinner table tonight. You never know when it’s going to end.

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We have been having some strange weather in Virginia. This basically puts us in the “normal” weather category as the rest of the country does battle with the elements, as well.

First, there was the Big Snow Storm the week before Christmas. It rarely snows where I live in Virginia, so we were paralyzed with 27 inches of the white stuff for days. (We still have a little patch of snow on our front lawn.)

Then, there was last night. It rained so hard I honestly was worried about the birds. I mean, where do they go when the heavens unleash a fire hose? I’m surprised our windows are still intact, and part of me wondered if my car’s windshield was going to be caved in this morning.

I, of course, posed some of these questions to Husband in the middle of the night. I was awake anyway. (Who can sleep through a gale force?) I asked: What’s going on? Should we be worried? Husband, who consulted the Weather Channel earlier in the evening, remained nonplussed. Apparently, knowing that the weather is coming is calming. I continued to worry about the birds.

Regularly I consult Husband on such nightly matters. What was that? is a common question when I hear something. As someone who cannot, under any circumstance, watch movies about home invasion or other such violence, I immediately think someone is breaking in. Husband replies the same each night. It’s just the house. Our townhouse is still “settling.”

But, it’s nice to have someone to ask when your thoughts are running amuck in the dark. I distinctly remember living in Northern Virginia during my single days. I lived very close to Washington, DC, and was constantly convinced that someone was breaking in when I heard a noise in the dark. Of course, 99 percent of the time this was my mind playing tricks on me. (The fact someone did try to kick in my door one afternoon while I was home did not add to my comfort level. I moved from NoVa about five months later.)

So, while I have complained about having to share my sleeping space with someone, I must add something to the “pro” category. Having someone to ask What was that? when the house settles is kinda nice. Even when they can’t do anything about windows blowing in from torrential storms, it is good to know I won’t be alone when it happens.

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Jan
24

Quote of the Week: Limo

By Suzanne · Comments (0)

Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.  ~Oprah Winfrey

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