Platonic Stripping


I have never wanted to become a stripper. I can't imagine dancing for a bunch of stranger but I will admit that I have wanted to dance for a couple of my friends/boyfriends. Part of the interest I believe is innocent. I was the girl at the dance club that made a B-line to the stage so that I could dance by myself and be the center of attention; strippers get the stage all to themselves. My less than innocent motivates would the desire to dance sexy to songs I love. In my late teens I sometimes found myself day dreaming about stripping while listening to sexy music. There was nobody else in my daydreams, just mean on a dark stage with one spotlight. I did worry that about my thoughts because it only felt safe in my imagination.

Through high school my friends would tease me about being a big flirt. I liked boy's attention and I liked having platonic friends. I realized soon that if a boy likes you but there is no hope of you relationship every becoming romantic than they will soon tire of your friendship. So I become comfortable with the flirting with my friends. It started off as conscious but then I think it became a part of my personality. Sometimes girls thought that I was flirting with them but I did not feel bad. I learned that flirting is smiling a lot, making good eye contact, being personable, being confident, and showing genuine enthusiasm while listening; in other words great interpersonal or interview skills. However the skills sometimes sent mixed messages to a few close friends. Especially one friend in particular; I call him hubby today.

You see hubby, as sweet and generous as he is, still is a hot blooded male. It seemed when I refused to flirt at all he become disinterested in our friendship or become more determined to win me over. Although my feelings for hubby were platonic I've always known that he was someone really special and made a point to do what it took to keep him in my life. To be honest hubby was fun to flirt with. He's witty, charming, intelligent and funny so flirting with him was satisfying on so many levels. Still I had to find the right balance of sarcasms and sweetness so that he never tried to make a move on me but stayed interested. Through the years I became comfortable letting my guard down with him because he never tried to force himself on me, something I really grew to appreciate.

I moved away from home to go to school but hubby and I become even closer during that time. So when I transferred to a school close to home me and hubby hung out a lot. That summer was incredible. I could be one of the guys while watching, sports drinking beer, and listening to crazy women stories. No matter what I always knew that I was also a lady; hubby and his friends treated me with respect, open doors for me and were eager to buy dinner. After a few years of trying to avoid being raped and stalked by men (more on that at a later date) it was a pleasant surprise to hang out with male friends who did not try to even steal a kiss.

So in all my young wisdom I knew that hubby's b-day was the perfect opportunity to get him a present to show him how much I appreciated him. In the past I have bought music CDs, but this time I wanted to make it special; something he really wanted that only I could or would give to him. Those darn day dream started popping up in my head. I couldn't afford to get him a car and a tie would not cut it, but I could not figure out else that he would have really liked. Besides I could imagined his surprise when I started dancing to the music (I barely would hug him at the time). I could envision the delight in his eyes as we locked eyes; after all I am pretty damn sexy. I could anticipate the sense of freedom as I slowly removed my clothes; how much courage and confidence would that take for me to be able to dance down to my underwear (getting completely naked was never a part of my fantasy). I entertained the thought for about a week but knew that not only would I never have the courage, but I also realized that could be detrimental to our friendship. One reason why I love hubby is because he never treated me like a piece of meat. Our platonic relationship, except for the occasional flirtation was pure as the driven snow, why would I do anything to jeopardize that.

So instead I gave him a gift that was equally good, some nice cologne and he was none the wiser. Because of that decision to keep my clothes on I now have a lifetime to explore all my fantasies to my heart's content. I can spend time finding sexy songs that inspire a little role play for a spicy day.


Do you think it was strange that I wanted to strip for a friend? What would make a 21 year old want to strip for fun?

I See Dead People

fearing the futuristic, originally uploaded by JenniPenni.

This is the post I've been dreading. The first one admitting that I have in fact see ghosts, more than a few, and more than just looked at. I feel a little more confident now with TV shows like Ghost Hunter, and my favorite Paranormal State. Yes I realize reality TV is not always what it seems. Still I'm happy to people who claim they can relate to my experiences. I use to be scared that people would assume that I'm crazy, but I have learned that you have to trust yourself and not worry what others will think of you. I can't say without a doubt that ghost exist, but I have so many different experiences that it is hard for me to dismiss the possibility.

For instance when I was a kid I can remember hearing the phone or the doorbell ring two or three times before anyone else could hear. I can remember going to bed with a nightlight on and seeing my rocking horse start rocking when no one esle was in the room; I felt more concerned than scared, so I quietly watched the horse to make sure it did not do anything else that. As a kid those experiences just meant that I'm a little different, but I was okay with that.

However I can't remember is my first ghostly experience. My mom is the one that told me the story I'm about to tell; for some unknown reason it always brings a smile to my face when I hear it. Late one night when I was three years old I asked my mom to take me to the potty so she walked with me to the bathroom, flipped on the light switch and sat me on the toilet. Mom stood in front of me with her back to the door and talked me waiting for me to finish when suddenly I started screaming and crying. Mom asked ,"What's was wrong honey? Why are you crying?" and I responded by pointing desperately into the air and yelling," The man! Mommy the man!".

My mom, perplexed by my response, asked "What man". My wide eyes glazed with fear tried to say what my mouth was scared to. Finally I mustered the courage to whisper, "The man standing behind you." Goose bumps raised as a chill swept her spine. Mom looked behind her but did not see anybody or anything. I insisted that there was a man and continued kicking my legs and screaming with tears streaming down my face. My mom tried to console me but nothing she did or said helped. She said this went on for about almost two minutes when suddenly............................ Silence! I stopped crying and I and started smiling again. My mom who's heart was now pounding loudly against her chest asked me why I stopped crying. I said "It's okay...He gone and we're alone now".

And that was the truth; dad worked the graveyard shift leaving just mom and me alone in our creaky old house. Mom fought hard to calm herself without any success. Instead she sat on the couch all night holding a butcher knife jumping at every unexplained noise. I , however, went right to sleep seemingly unaffected by that night's event.

What are your thoughts on ghosts? Have you ever experienced something abnormal that you could not explain?

The Man That Changed My Life - Part 3


... It was not to have some time to recover, but things were back to normal for the most part.

I returned to school the next day but my mom insisted on driving me there. I felt bad because it was so far out of her way, but I was glad that I did not have to take the bus for now.

When I arrived at school, my favorite security guard noticed that I missed school the previous day and ask why. In a corner of the hallway, I quietly told her what had happened the day before, and she hugged me in the hallway. I'm sure the hug looked strange to others, but it felt good to me. She told me she was glad that I was okay and gave me instructions on what to do if it ever happened again. She said, "Keep your hands in your pockets and put a key from your key ring between each finger. If someone trys to attack you, punch them in their eyes and run away." I smilled and thought that was a good idea.

For awhile I tried to walk aroung like Wolevrine, but I felt silly. Besides, I did not worry that it would happen again; I knew that I would be okay and had nothing to worry about. I knew that, but it was hard for my mom to hear. My mom was single now, and she picked up a lot of overtime. She had to get up extra early to drop me off at school and get to work on time. I hated to see her work so hard, and I told her that I would be okay riding the bus again.

She would not listen at first, but finally she agreed to let me and promised me, "If it takes blood, sweat and tears, I will buy you a car." I did not want by mom to have to push herself anymore than she already was, but it was nice to hear. At that age, you are not always sure that your parents love you, but I knew without a doubt that she did.

My mom insisted that I get some counseling, and to everyone's surprise, I was excited. I decided when I was nine years old that I wanted to become a psychologist. I thought that this was my oppurtunity to see what they do. I was happy with my therapist: First off, she was a woman (thank God). Second, she was so nice, which made it easy for me to talk. I felt sorry for her because I talked her ear off. I talked about school, my parents, and boys, and she let me talk about whatever I wanted to. The only thing that I did not talk about much was the kidnapping attempt. I did not want to talk about that. I mean, what was I going to say? Okay, yes, I got scared sometimes, but I shouldn't be; I got away unharmed. I wanted everyone to know that I was stronger than that.

After six weeks of therapy, 12 sessions altogether, I ended my counseling sessions. I would miss the therapist a little, but I was happy to get back to regular life. My mom had a private session with my therapist to get an understanding of how I was doing. I couldn't wait for her to ease my mother's concerns; after all, the therapist never saw a moment of weakness. She would tell my mother that I was a tower of strength. That no man could scare me or take away my sense of security. Now, I was the one sitting in the waiting room while my mother had a session with the psychologist. I felt a little uncomfortable knowing that they were mainly talking about me, but in a way I felt grown up. The door opened, and the therapist walked me and my mom out of her office. It was strange to say goodbye forever to a woman I quickly befriended, but I was used to that, so it was not hard for me.

Years later, I asked my mom what the therapist said to her. She summed it by saying, "She said you were hiding something. You were not ready to open up." All that time, I thought I'd outfoxed everyone. It was not like I wanted be deceptive, but my fear and anxiety were growing more severe with time. I thought about telling the therapist about how hard it was for me to walk around and not know if this man would ever get caught. I tried to keep a mental image of the man ingrained in my mind so that I could help the police catch him. That felt like toture because everywhere I went it seemed like there was someone that looked liked him. I was terrified that he would break in my house and kill my whole family. Of course, I could not tell her that; I couldn't tell anyone. I did not want anyone to worry about me or doubt my maturity. I knew that my fears were irrational, and I had every confidence that I would get better on my own. He did not even hurt me. I was mad at myself for being so weak and letting my emotions get the best of me. During the day I could manage, but nights were starting to become unbearable ...

Godsmack- I Stand Alone Lyrics

The Man Who Changed My Life- part 2

... It seemed like my mom was there within in seconds. I instantly felt safe in her prescences. I thanked the waitress for her help and got into the car to head home. I filled my mom in on what happened, but before the story was complete the police were at the house. Soon after that my father arrived. So for the third time I recounting the morning's events. I told the police about the car in the alley and then I was struck with fear. Rembering that my purse, my drivers license was next to his car, if the car was still there. Then I wondered how long had this man been watching me, waiting for the oppurnity to attack me. With panicked eyes I pleaded for someone to get my book bag. My father grab his coat,"No daddy I don't mean you". I imagined my dad coming face to face with a rapist, with a killer. I held on to my father's arm, telling him to wait, let the police go. He assured me that he would be right back I had to trust him. Still I wonder why one of the two cops could not go 1 block to find my purse, my bookbag and the car of the man who'd tried to hurt me.

police safe-play

My dad kept his word and handed me my belongings. My IDs and all my things were there, but the car was not. I wondered when the man came back for it. Maybe I should have busted the windows. The police finished taking my statement and then told me it was time to go to the police station. I felt a little excited, I'm not sure why. I guess it was my desire to see justice done; I wanted to make sure that I helped them put the man away so that he would not harm anyone else. I held on to his image so that I could give the best description possible to the sketch artist. I believed that they would catch him eventually, but hoped that today would be the day.

So with a few nosy onlookers I got into the back seat of the cop car and smiled at the irony. It was so nice to see so many cops that day. Walking into the police station gave me a ton of comfort and security. I was calm before, but now I felt like I was back to my normal self. One cop told me to have a seat and they'd be right with me. They did not explain why my parents could not come with me; I assume that they needed to question me to make sure that I was telling the truth. As I waited a good looking cop smiled at me and asked me why I was there. I gave him a brief synoposis and felt proud of myself for keeping my promise, the promise to walk away without a scratch. He said to me with a warm smile,"Good thing you got away. You saw his face so he would have killed you". With that he patted my arm and told me to take care. My smile faded. I'm sure the thought had crossed my mind, that's why I refused to be pushed in his car. The officer made that possibilty of death seem so real. I figured out that the man knew where I lived and what time I left my house everyday. I'm glad he did not rape me,but if he wanted to he could break in and kill me, kill my family. They had to catch him today.

After another interview the cops said they would take me home. I furrowed my brow and asked them if I was going to see a sketch artist. They said no, they don't need that today. Fustrated but ready to get home I followed them to the car. What a lousy way to get a day off of school, but I was grateful. My mom pampered me all day, my friends came over to protect and support me. Everyone but my boyfriend, Justin. When I told him what'd happened he listened in silence. When I ws finished talking he said that he had to go. It felt like he did not love me, but I gave him the benfit of the doubt. Maybe he was in shock. Besides I had all the support I needed. I was alright. I was stronger than I ever knew. I stayed calm and thought quick on my feet. Now I know without a doubt God loves me, he saved my life and I would never forget that. For now I would take it easy and just appreciate that I was home and safe.