Laziness is a disease. I need a cure

I enrolled myself in a sewing course. Everyone should learn a trade, they say. You’ll benefit from having a skill, they say. Make yourself more marketable, they say. THEY should shut up sometimes. I decided to take a sewing course because I want to be able to make my own clothes if I feel like and I have often felt the desire to make my own clothes so I finally found the time in my schedule (with me being a resident of two countries and whatnot) and the money and I headed over to HEART and did a short course in Basic Garment Construction. Point to note: the course isn’t over yet but it’s past the midway mark.

Oh, how I wish I had waited and how I wish someone had talked me out of this (if it was even possible). I mean, I could have learned how to sew informally like my grandmother did and like so many other people I know. It would have been cheaper and I could set the pace according to my liking. A short course is a long course cut in half- the same amount of work but with less time to do it. Why didn’t this raise a flag to Nas? Clearly because she didn’t know any of this BEFORE she signed up. Who researches these things in-depth? Crazy people with too much time on their hands, that’s who. Every week I feel overwhelmed and I think about why I’d be better served to postpone learning to sew. But then I think about the fact that I paid my money already and that it’s my own fault that I am overwhelmed and I drag my ass to class and try to remember why I signed up in the first place.

Let's get personal

My laptop charger felt it time to go into early retirement. I discovered this at the best moment- when the “battery power is 10%” notification popped up. I quietly shut down the laptop and stared for a moment and then complained to Mr. Man who graciously tried to see if any life was left. There was none. I was super bummed. Just a couple days earlier my Blackberry decided it needed a break from active working life so I had comforted myself with the fact that I still had my laptop. Actually, taking some time off of BBM was quite appealing to me, threats from friends aside. I initially had budgetary concerns that influenced my decision to take a small break and then I started thinking I should extend my leave and sell my phone. My phone made the next move by going “Ha! I’ll show you! I’ll leave you before you can dump me”. Who knew phones could be so spiteful?

So here I was, lost in the world. Frustrated because I am one of those people that believe that things should work for the purpose(s) for which they were created or be removed from my presence (sometimes violently. J I kid about that part but I do think it). I much prefer when they do the former. Mr. Man said this is good for me ‘cause I’d get back to--- I honestly cannot remember what positive thing he said would come out of this. I must have repressed it due to trauma.

Pageant At A Strip Club

So I went to pageant (for strippers) at a strip club

These are the moments that make my time in BIM so memorable.

You haven’t really experienced one of life’s greatest situational ironies until you have attended a stripper pageant. There is nothing like a stripper donning an elegant (by some standards) evening gown and walking onstage to Celine Dion’s “I’m Your Lady” or Rihanna's California King Bed.

This was something I wish I could have gotten pictures or even video of so I could share with you all but recording of any of the night’s events was strictly prohibited. While being able to say I was ejected from a strip club would have also been a great story to tell, I decided to adhere to the rules.

They had 3 segments- stripper wear, lingerie and evening gowns.

These ladies took the entire show seriously. I could smell the scent of broken dreams and desperate clinging to a semblance of what could have been in the air. Each of these women had a story- somewhere there life took a turn and they haven’t since been able to get on a different path so they made due with the journey they were now on. But still, they remained hopeful and carried within themselves some quiet dignity that allowed them to get up on that stage and pretend that they were not one notch below “women of the night” but instead one step away from being ambassadors of the entity which would, at the end of the pageant, crown one of the queen. To be honest, the only difference between that pageant and the typical beauty pageant is the known backgrounds of the strippers, the location, the encouraged interaction with the pole and the absence of a question-and-answer portion. I must say that it was very classy pole-dancing- the type that women from all walks of life buy DVDs or attend classes to learn how to do.

During the breaks from each segment the strippers that did not participate in the pageant did their usual form of entertainment. Overall, there wasn’t much to be fascinated by except the music that they chose to dance to. Maybe they were disappointed about not being a part of the pageant. They may have felt that the crowd was not really there for them that night. All the same, I could have done without the seemingly pregnant stripper though. I was uncomfortable and so were those I came with. Not simply because she was pregnant but because it seemed like she was due and I really could not imagine the trauma that would take over everyone if her water broke. I also felt really bad because no one tipped her, not even her fellow strippers and I had seen from previous sets of other strippers that it was commonplace for the girls to encourage the audience to start tipping by tipping each other.