The Road To Me Being The Next Big Thing...

It's funny how life works.  I had sex with a few guys while I was in high school, during a very vulnerable moment in my life and I was called a slut.  Then I moved onto become an exotic dancer, where men paid to see me undress in front of them and suddenly the perky C cups on my slender, athletic body made me one of the most well liked and highest paid dancer at a small stripper club in LA.  No one called me a slut then.  Nope, they called me anything but that.  More like Baby, Honey, Sugar, Sweetheart, and Shorty.

Being idolized like that by men, being wanted so badly by even complete strangers definitely gave me a sense of empowerment.  I knew they were just being that way to me, just to get into my pants.  If I got in bed with them, they would just screw me and leave me.  But leading them on and never giving them anything, other attention - I owned them.  I could make them pay me for anything I wanted and not even have sex with them.  They couldn't just use me and walk away.  But me living that life didn't last for long.  The owner of the club was my boyfriend.  9 months earlier I was the next big thing when I walked into his club.  But, two weeks into my 10th month, when a new bottle blond walked in the door with her fake DD cups - she became the next big thing at the club and I was made an outcast almost immediately.  She had my boyfriend, my job and stole my Louis Vuitton pocketbook from my ex's apartment.  Before I left town, I went back to his apartment to get her face acquainted her face with my fist and his balls with my foot.  They could have everything else, but they couldn't take my Louis Vuitton bag.

For yet another time, I was rejected by someone I really cared about.  I was still young, foolish...and heartbroken again.  So I began enjoying my drinking and marijuana all over again.  I left that club and got a temporary gig with a bigger strip club, that had a higher paying clientele.  But, I was a leftover from a smaller club, so my tips dropped down to literally pennies on the dollar.  My hours sucked.  I had to leave a nice apartment to live with a roommate, who was also a dancer, in a cheesy section of L.A.  The aunt that I had originally came to live with lied to my family back in Ohio and said that I had ran off and that she didn't know how I was doing.  But, she knew.  She just couldn't face the fact that she really didn't care.

One night, after I stripped at my new club in LA, a very sweet black man, Julian Dickerson, approached me and asked me if I was interested in doing nude pictures.  Oh he was as sweet and as kind as could be.  He was very convincing.  I wouldn't have to work as hard for tips from customers or work in a second rate exotic dancer club for the money.  I could do still and get some residuals off of Internet sales since men don't buy magazines like they used to.  He was an porn actor himself, starred in a handful of low budget porn videos.  He said that I had beautiful skin and didn't look drugged out like some of the other women who flipped from porn films to nude modeling - or vice versa - in order to pay for their drug habit.

Not all the girls were drug addicts or alcoholics.  But at some point, you eventually do turn to them if not to just go out and have a good time, then at least to numb yourself to the reality that millions of people, including your friends and family may eventually see you on screen having sex.

I wasn't going to do that.  I told Julian no videos for me.  But I didn't have a problem showing my cookies off to a camera lens.  What's the big deal?  We all come out of some woman's pussy.

The Little Girl From Youngstown, Ohio

How did I get here?  Where is here?  New York City of course.  I'm a real estate agent, renting apartments on the upper east side.  I'm originally from Youngstown, Ohio, formally a steel mill town that turned into a down trodden city from it's lost industry.  Youngstown has been trying to rediscover and redefine itself and it's industry as it goes into the next century.

What most of my weekday clients don't know is that the sharply dressed, petite, 27 year old, short haired brunette showing them apartments, is a former high school soccer star, a waitress, a stripper, a porn actress, a prostitute, a drug dealer and an ex-convict.  Now I'm a real estate agent in New York and living a pretty good life.  But I'm not done.  I've cleaned my act up, I've matured and I'm ready to take conquer this town.  In another life, I'd be a double platinum album selling, white female rapper with all my personal drama.

So where do I begin?  Well, I have a lot of good beginnings in my life.  Those good beginnings were usually followed by a short lifespan and then bad endings before I learned to move on.  So perhaps I'll just start here.  During my senior year in high school I skipped town and moved to Los Angeles, California with a distant relative.  I hated home and everything my family, friends and Youngstown represented.  My father was as religious as he was a racist, an alcoholic and a philanderer.  He would sometimes disappear for weeks, leaving my mother to fend on her own to raise six kids while he constantly took odd jobs after doing a stint in the military.  My mother cleaned beds at a motel and worked weekends at a laundromat, while my oldest brother and sister worked hard to help raise us four younger siblings.

Most of the folks in Youngstown, grow up and just get jobs in Youngstown.  So they never leave the area.  Generation, after generation of people from the same town, growing up, working, living and dying in the same town.  I wanted more than that for me.  I had dreams.  Big dreams.  I played soccer, and softball.  I was well known for my blue eyes, blond ponytail and well developed body in high school.

I always spoke to my friends about going to Hollywood.  Lots of kids do that sometimes.  We dream of leaving home and going someplace to make it big and that way we could come back to our hometown and sort of flip certain people the bird.  Tell them to kiss our asses, because we made it.  We left Youngstown, went somewhere else and became something.  Most of us dreamed of going someplace, but we ended up no place at all.  I was going to be different.  I was going to get out of Youngstown.

I had my first kiss at 13 to my first love, Michael.  We didn't really try anything more until we both turned 15.  I lost my virginity to him when I turned 16 and thought that he would be mine forever.  But, Michael didn't want out of Youngstown.  Michael was just counting the days when he would graduate high school and get a job alongside his father at the General Motors plant.  I wanted more than that.  He broke up with me at the end of our junior year.  He said that we needed to spend some time away from each other.

That summer I had sex with two of his friends hoping that would make Michael come back to me.  But I was wrong.  When Michael found out, he only stayed further away from me.  That in turn made me run into the pants of three more boys.  It was a potent mixture of marijuana, alcohol, teenage hormones and rejection.  I was just trying to find something to make myself feel better inside.  To make matters even worse, my mother lost our house that my father flopped on our house mortgage, so we had to move into the Martin Mobile Home Park.  Yep, South Ave in Youngstown.  We had finally sunken to trailer park status.

A couple big family fights, including my father getting busted by my mother for fathering a five year old kid on the other side of town with another woman.  Six months into my senior year, I was already labeled one of the  town sluts.  I wanted out.  My mother had a second cousin who had moved from Cleveland to Los Angeles to work for a TV network.  My mother wanted me out the door anyway since I had began doing drugs a lot casual drugs more often and openly in front of my other siblings.

So I got my little bit of money together and off to Los Angeles I went...