tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post1859637488799514886..comments2023-05-10T05:04:11.791-05:00Comments on Because I'm Your Mother, That's Why: Where I probably reveal too muchChristinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11764899704457653919noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-62097432208437445952007-04-17T12:21:00.000-05:002007-04-17T12:21:00.000-05:00Ha! It was definitely a life experience type thing...Ha! It was definitely a life experience type thing. I had a good chuckle when the 'striptease workout' became all the rage. The whole reason strippers look good is because a,) they don't eat and b.) they're doing those movements for 8-10 hours a day! Those stupid 30 minute videos are a joke!Christinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11764899704457653919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-19763911841484456612007-04-17T11:35:00.000-05:002007-04-17T11:35:00.000-05:00Wha, wha, wha, what?????? A stripper??? I knew I ...Wha, wha, wha, what?????? A stripper??? I knew I freakin liked you!!!Tracy Reifkindhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07868257020358013257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-65029361461122790462007-04-12T14:30:00.000-05:002007-04-12T14:30:00.000-05:00It's a toxic environment. I'm glad I got out when ...It's a toxic environment. I'm glad I got out when I didChristinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11764899704457653919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-1489749871264525892007-04-12T12:38:00.000-05:002007-04-12T12:38:00.000-05:00I used to bounce at a club. It was a high class jo...I used to bounce at a club. It was a high class joint in a rich part of town. I was young and had these fantasies about bouncers saving the hot chicks ( I've seen too many porns I guess, plus I was 21 what was I going to think ). Of course the reality was way different. I enjoyed my job, hey I got paid to look at half-naked women all day. But man, some of the guys in there were ASSHOLES, and the girls were CAAATY. Meth abounded, it flowed like water. You could watch the progression. Somebody would call a dancer fat and the next week she would be skinnier, then within a few weeks she would miss work then she just started looking bad and get fired or quit work.<BR/>There were exceptions though. There were some nice people there, they were just rare.Roycehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08646895219807042702noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-33669648415259714952007-04-11T14:16:00.000-05:002007-04-11T14:16:00.000-05:00Totally. And having a daughter has helped to heal ...Totally. <BR/><BR/>And having a daughter has helped to heal a lot of that. If for no other reason, I don't want to pass it on to her. I want her to have the most rock solid self esteem. I tell her a million times a day that she's beautiful, she's smart, she's the best girl. I sing her this song we've sang to all the kids (obviously we'd say 'boy' instead of 'girl' for Tyler and Henry) but it goes "who is the best girl, the best girl the best girl? Who is the best girl? Addie is!" And we'll change it sometimes to 'smartest' or 'funniest' or whatever. Addie, when I sing it now, I can't even get past the first line, because she starts screaming "It's Addie! Addie! MEEEEE!" And she always has this look like, jeez, mom, what's your deal?<BR/><BR/>So I think Addie's good in that department.Christinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11764899704457653919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8554322107743820140.post-78520131640473968302007-04-11T10:23:00.000-05:002007-04-11T10:23:00.000-05:00I remember my own days as a stripper. I'm so glad...I remember my own days as a stripper. I'm so glad that didn't last long. There's a reason why strippers do a shitload of emotion numbing drugs. <BR/><BR/>It's amazing how those comments stick in our minds and how mean people can really be. I am my own worst enemy in this regard; I remember, when I was "hot", and I used to look at women who look more like my current self and tell myself I'd rather die than look like that. I remember being with my girlfriends and the catty conversation about other women's bodies and taste in fashion.<BR/><BR/>Feh. It really doesn't last forever.Christine Hammondhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01266434046365053314noreply@blogger.com