Tag Archives: identity

It hasn’t done much for Snooki – what can it possibly do for me?

30 Sep

I got my 2nd offer to do and/or be a part of a reality TV show in terms of my Brotheling.
The first offer was one I got of my own accord because of a massive amount of emails I sent out trying to find agencies interested in publishing my book.
I wrote all of the literary agents who used to work for William Morris. Smooth move!

The 2nd offer I got was via email today.
It would have come by phone.
But I am glad it came by email,
because news like “Do you want to show your whore self to all of America on TV? Tell me now.” Is not really something I want to deal with by phone.

The guy who brought me this offer is somebody who has known me since I was but an underage drinker. (Not very long, hahahah!)
He said, “you really need to decide whether you are going to oust yourself with your brothel identity or whether you are going to stick with your art.”


A few hours later, I was talking with my friend in the law/legal industry (Hello friend!)
and he brought up an interesting point.
I laid out my options and he said:

“Well it sounds like you are trying to choose A. or B. Prostitution or your Art. Like that’s all the choices you have.
When what you REALLY should be considering is other options in the rest of the working world. Like Law School.
Or being a Cop, or graduate school.”

True true.
But allow me to give you back this info:

I think going to school when you don’t have the money for school is a foolish idea.

Especially in this economic depression, when there’s no telltale sign that a degree equals income on any level.

My biggest interests to go to school for would be computer arts, but why would I go get a degree when by the time
I got it, whatever I learned in school would be outdated, and I’d have to go back again to update my credentials?

I’ve tried most every job on the planet I have wanted to try.
I have worked for magazines.
I have bartended.
I have been peoples nutritionists and personal chefs.
I have been a graphic designer.
I have done copywriting.
I have done pole dancing.
I got my real estate license once, and it never worked for me.
I passed the written test for the highway patrol, but whether its for me is debatable.

But…in the words of Shakespeare:
“To thine own self be true.”

Its already been established that I have trouble keeping my mouth shut.
It’s already been established that I like doing things my way – to the point of being fired for standing up for what I believe in.
I’ve always been schedule challenged…incapable of arriving at 8am. No matter how hard I try – and I feel like a loser every time I run late.
I’ve been a night owl since I was 10.

As much as I would love to be just like everyone else and give Corporate America a try…
I can’t make sense of walking blind into companies that I know nothing about, in terms of…
how long their employees stick around…the stability of the company.
People I know who have real jobs seem to have just as many financial burdens as my entrepreneur friends.

If anything, my entrepreneur friends are better off, because nobody can steal their job.
Once you have taken somebody’s “real job” because of the horrible economy and your tight wallet,
you also do something horrible to the self esteem of whoever you fire.
Frankly, I don’t want to live every day of my life wondering,
“oh is today going to be the day that I am a victim of
your mighty budget cut?”

I remember the last time I got fired from a “real job” in Corporate America. I was devastated.

Doesn’t matter if you got “fired” or you “walked away” before you got fired….
the end result is still the same.

Tighter economy means fewer risks get taken.
Which means the voices of some of the most talented people I know don’t get heard…because the owner of whatever homogenous company
they are working for, sees the creative voice as a “business risk.”

This makes me sad because…I enjoy reading up on a unique perspective.
I enjoy reading or hearing the unique things that people have to say and share.
It makes me sad when you see a little piece of someone’s spirit die.
When I see that happen, a little piece of my spirit dies with them.

So I have made my decision.
I will not do reality TV.
I will not do anything that might take something from me that I might want back some day.

I’ve already tasted the bitterness of defeat from this job.
Knowing that somebody can’t be in your life because your job bothers them so much.
You don’t know isolation til you know that feeling.

So. No TV.
Brotheling was supposed to be a temporary holding place, anyway.
Must make room for art.

BrothelBabe’s #1 fear: Secret identities 

29 Aug

Who knows?

Hypothetically, lets THEORIZE…
lets say a gal like me (brothelbabe!) told a lot of people about her “other life” and wishes she hadn’t.
Reasons why a gal might reveal her brothel status:

Because you want to put a wall between you and the other person.
As if to say, “Here is some drama in my life, here is why I can’t go to lunch with you, can’t talk wit you, can’t date you, can’t have a relationship with you, can’t fall in love with you.”

Because you want to take DOWN walls between you and another person.
As if to say, “Here’s why I’m great at meaningless sex, having affairs, and why I’m so goddamn candid. Here’s why I’m the most frank and forward person you’ve ever met when it comes to relationships….particularly taboo ones.”

Because you are tired of men trying to use sex as a tool and as currency.
“Please, dahling. I’ve heard every trick in the book and you making like you will help me get famous if I sleep with you is useless. Show me your private jet first and hand me a bag full of 80 thousand dollars. I’m a professional.”

Other reasons you might talk about this job:
– It’s too tiring keeping all of your lies and cover jobs straight
– The first year is unusually emotionally draining, and you could use a friend (or 30….woops) to help you cope.

Can you guess which reason my reason is? 😉

The conundrum facing Brothelbabe:
Suppose a gal wanted to start over. Pursue another life. Hypothetically Brothelbabe could be a genius of sorts. A modern day Leonardo da Vinci….who fears being discovered as a generic brothel ho. How does one cover their tracks?

This saga is TO BE continued…..
I love you.
P.S. My coworker cooked us all breakfast wearing an apron, a bra, and NO PANTIES, so we could all laugh at her completely exposed bum. GOD BLESS THIS JOB.
P.P.S. The security guard also had it with the brothel down the road who wouldn’t give him beers, so last morning he came in completely wasted, crashed here, and got so drunk that we painted his fingernails black. I love him.
P.P.P.S. I sent a letter professing my love to Mr. Wrong….which started with me talking about this guy who wanted to fuck me, but instead of fucking the guy, I was thinking of Mr. Wrong. Isn’t that romantic?