Though much has happened since last I wrote, there has been nothing I have been wanting to write more about, than the pole-dancing class I went to for my girlfriend’s birthday! There were twelve of us ladies, mostly all moms, mostly very suburban, typical “Soccer Moms”, pretty bobbed blonde hair, velour Juicy tracksuit, conservative- you know the type. So, we drive to what looks like an office complex in a very non-descript area of Redwood City, and walk into an office, where we could see beyond the front desk was a Pilates studio. Non-threatening, no big deal! Then we walk into the next room, which was literally a room full of floor-to-ceiling poles! Right as we walk in, the instuctor (Shelly) greets us, as she is hanging upside down, legs spread-eagle, half naked from the first pole as you walk through the door.

If you’ve never seen “Soccer Mom Shock”, it is funy as hell to witness in person! It’s when a pretty, sweetly conservative, suburbanite mom sees something that is “shocking” to her, and her recenlty Botoxed forehead can’t even stop the knee-jerk reaction of her eyebrows slightly arching, while her neatly pink-and-white manicured nails cover her Lancome Juicy Tubes-laquered mouth as a barely audible gasp emerges… it’s classic!

While some of the women recovered from their “Soccer Mom Shock” ordeal, and were still struggling to wrap their minds around what was happening in front of their eyes, a few of us reveled in what was sure to be a raunchy, in-your-face, play-by-play instruction manual into the sordid world of stripping and pole dancing. Being a belly-dancer, I have brushed shoulders with many dancers from, shall we say, “other genres” of dance. So being in a room full of poles with a barely clothed woman was no big deal to me, but for some others- it was quite out of their box!

At this point, the instructor uninverts herself on the pole, glides down effortlessly, lands in the splits, wipes down the pole with a cloth and some sort of  stripper pole cleaning solution, stands up and introduces herself as Shelly. My first thought is “Shelly”? Is that her stage name or her real name? Shelly is stunning- abs that you could bounce a quarter off of, about 12% bodyfat, every muscle defined, very impressive, and yes, a tad intimidating.

She begins to instruct us through a very benign, simple warm-up, and then BAM! Whips out the good stuff….”Ladies- this is how you do a lap dance!” Nervous trilling laughter ensues amongst the Soccer Moms, as myself and the two other more “wordly” women think, “Now we’re talkin’!” Shelly asks us to partner up- one woman is the “Dancer” and one is the “Person” (being a customer in Shelly’s case, being a shell-shocked, sex-starved husband in some of the Soccer Moms cases). I partnered up with my girlfriend, who is thankfully as open-minded, expressive and adventurous as I am. The other Moms partnered up with eachother nervously milling around the room, laughing quietly. Shelly bellows to the room, “Dancers, slowly slither up to your Person, walking very confidently and slowly!” I don’t know if you’ve ever tried to “slither” very confidently and slowly in 6″ platform heels before, but it’s no easy feat, I’ll tell ya! “When you get to your Person”, Shelly continues, “Drop down between their legs onto your knees, and show them your there for THEM. Insist your presence!” This is where a couple of the moms literally jump back, do the Soccer Mom Shock and gasp combo, and shake their heads. ‘Their poor husbands”, is all I can think. But I ignore them- I’m here to learn! I wobbily “slither” up to my friend, my “Person” and damn it, I insisted my presence! I even got into it a little leaned over my “Person” and gave her a great cleavage shot, thanks to the couple of swigs from a flask of what I’m pretty sure I determined was whiskey from one of the other gals in the class.

After lots of giggling, some nervous laughter from the other Moms, and being taught some seriously sassy dance moves, we moved onto the POLES! Shelly taught us about different ways to stand in front of the pole, then moved into how to spin. It was a blast! I had bruises on the inside of my knees and thighs for about two weeks, but it was well worth it- I would do it again in a heartbeat!

About two weeks after our class, my girlfriend who’s birthday we were celebrating at the pole class, and I, were at a Girl Scout field trip to the fire station. We were the two naughty girls in the back of the class, snickering and giggling everytime the fireman talked about the pole in the firehouse, and showed the kids how they slide down when the bell rings, etc. Finally, as we were leaving, and all of the kids were outside of earshot, she quips up to the cutest of the four hot firemen there that day, and says with a wink, “We know how to do that!” Yes,  we do…….thank you, Shelly!

So, I ask my friend, how on earth she has no bumps or redness- surely she’s had thousands of dollars worth of laser treatments. “Nope” she says. Waxing? “No way- that hurts!” She replies. This I know firsthand (see my post titled “ the Brazillian Wax Incident”) . “I tweeze”, she admits. “Like your eyebrows? With tweezers? Really?” I ask, skeptically. “Really.” She assures me. “The whole thing? Doesn’t that take a long time?” “It does, but it’s worth it!” She says, and I believe her. The proof was there, afterall.

So, the next week, I hold off on my girl-part grooming regimen, in hopes to copy-cat my friend and tweeze my area to fuzz-free, bump-free perfection. The day before, I had talked to my Aunt on the phone who had told me about this cream called “Bikini Zone”,  that you could buy at the drugstore, supposed to help with the redness, irritation from waxing or shaving, or in my case plucking. Got the kids to bed, the Husband fell asleep on the couch watching COPS- this is my opportunity. Armed with tweezers, Bikini Zone, and a generous glass of Merlot, I trodded off to the bathroom to begin my masterpiece. Since, I received no specific instruction, I decided to follow the logic that I learned from my other bikini line grooming catastrophes- start outward, work inward. Good advice, whoever came up with that, because the outward doesn’t hurt too much, it’s when you get to the inward, that hopefully your glass of wine has hit ya, because you’re at the point of no return…you’ll end up looking like a boiled, pink, bearded clam- surely not the look you were intending.

So, outward to inward….I commence. Not too bad- things are moving a long smoothly- very little pain or discomfort is occuring so far. About an hour into my journey, my back is a little stiff, my hand hurts from tweezing, so I get up to get another glass of wine, rally, and get back to work, thinking I was half-way there. Let me teach you something about the female anatomy, if I may. In God’s great creative design, the tiny hairs on the outer area are fewer between, and much less painful, then the ones more inward. In addition, as nature intended, the more inward is a more “slippery slope”, so to speak. Tweezers have a tougher time tweezing. Now what do I do? Off to grab another glass of wine, and think of a solution. Think, think, think….Baby powder would work! I look all over- no baby powder. Damn. What else….when my kids had diaper rashes, my mother-in-law always said to use cornstarch- that must soak up moisture! So, I grab a box of cornstarch, do a dusting of my area, and we’re back in business! Yeah, it hurts like hell at this point, yeah my neck is twisted and my body contorted trying to reach myself, but it’s all for good reason, right? Sexy bikini line is within my reach! Four hours, a bottle of wine, a half-box of cornstarch, and a twisted, pinched-nerve riddled neck and back later…I have finished. I laquer on the Bikini Zone, and pass out in my bed, still covered in cornstarch (this didn’t even phase the Husband- he’s totally used to my shenanigans by now).

The next morning I wake up, realizing that there are several patches that in my wine-dimmed haze I thought I nixed, and didn’t, and it took yet another hour of painstaking tweezing. The whole effect was pretty good, still red and bumpy, the first two days, then all started to sprout back within a week. So overall, not my answer to bikini hair removal. After the $18 bottle of wine,  $160 chiropractic bill, and five plus hours of discomfort, and at least one solid hour of pure torture, I’d rather pay $50 and have someone rip it off all at once (which I’ve never had done yet, but you know when I do, I’ll tell you all about it)!

And a small disclaimer about the Bikini Zone…it works pretty good. However, I do not recommend applying the product right before any sort of naughty activity…it contains Lidocaine. In other words, if you do not heed my warning, you will hear the words, “Honthy, I can’th feel my thongue!” Don’t say I didn’t warn you…

Trick #1: Nutritious snack bars for the kids and for yourself. I prefer CLIF Kid Z-bars: Super healthy, organic, no trans fats or high-fructose corn syrup, and they taste good! I keep a stash in my car for outings, when the kids are freaking out, because they’re hungry or bored, and I don’t want to drive through McD’s for the third time in one week! I also keep a stash at home for a healthy snack as we’re all making a mad dash out the door to get my daughter to school on time. For myself, I prefer Detour protein bars: Low sugar, lowfat, high fiber and protein, and if I imagine really hard, and I’m hungry enough, I can convince myself it’s a Snicker’s bar!

Trick #2: I don’t have time to go to the gym, nor can we afford the added cost of a gym membership right now. So, I keep a library of assorted 20 and 30 minute workouts on DVD, and I pop one in first thing in the morning to rev up my energy, burn calories and add strength and tone to my body. Since I get bored easily, I like to switch them up. Here are a couple of my faves:

 Both workouts are 30 minutes or less, and I see results, even though I only do them three days a week. Plus, both women are inspiring without being annoying. It is also good for my kids to see my effort in being healthy and active, and they enjoy crawling under me when I’m doing a “bridge” or they play with my hand-weights in between sets, which I allow them to do, until they start swinging them at eachother. Leading by example to have a good body-image, providing entertainment for the kids, while keeping me in a bikini for one more summer- a definite win-win situation in my book!

Trick #3: Certain Dri deodorant and anti-perspirant:

 Not that I’ve ever really noticed sweating very much, but I tried this little gem, and I don’t sweat at all…even after working out, at work, or dancing- never! Plus- if you shower the night before, and put this on right after- it lasts into the next day, saving you an extra step in the morning. Plus- you will never check your trendy turtleneck for emberrassing underarm spots, because there won’t be any! I also like that it is unscented- no “flower meadow” or “spring rain” powdery smell to interfere with my Chanel perfume!

Trick #4: “Fake Tan in a Can”: Every woman would love to know the answer to the question, “How do I lose 5 lbs. in 5 minutes?” Here it is- fake tan in a can! It contours the definition of your muscles and highlights your curves and makes your boobs look bigger and sexier- sounds like a girl’s best friend to me! There are many options from drugstore to salon, from $8 to $38- I’ve tried them all. The trick to all of them is to make sure you have exfoliated your whole body, do not apply body lotion before applying the tanner, wash your hands, and let your body dry at least 15 minutes before getting dressed. I don’t care if the can says “dries quickly”, wait the full 15 minutes! I have dressed too quickly only to discover later that my bra has soaked up the tanner, and now I am left with half-moon, pasty- pale crescents under my boobs- not so sexy! Learn from my mistake.

I hope that at least one of my tricks has helped you to become a sassier, sexier, more confident Mom-on-the-go! Stay tuned for more tricks this Halloween season! I’m full of “smoke and mirrors” tips and secrets, and will be sharing more soon…

Flirty Girl Fitness

It honestly took me fifteen minutes to stop laughing after doing the “Flirty Girl Fitness” DVD. It was very fun, hilarious, actually- unless you really are a stripper, then I’m sure this is all old hat to you! As for me, I am a novice to the strip-tease world, the hip-hop-booty-shaking world, and generally the dance world, other than my reigning favorite form of exercise: bellydancing.

"The Pussycat"...with attitude...she told me to!

Now, one would think that a bellydancer would easily pick up these moves being thrown out by the “Flirty Girls”, but no. I didn’t. At all. The first DVD, called “Booty Beat” (try to contain yourself, here), is a fun, heart- pumping dance routine. If you’re 5’10″, hair down to your waist, a 34D, size 2, perfect abs and tan, like all of the “Flirty Girls” are, then these moves look super duper sassy and hot! However, if you’re like me, and have at least 10 lbs. to lose, and this is your first intro to moves like “the Booty Bump”, “the Pussycat”, and the “Spank”, you might at first feel a little silly doing all of these moves. God knows I did! But, as ridiculous as I felt, I found myself laughing and smiling the whole time- which is a great bonus to just sweaty, plain ol’ cardio. The only downside to any “pole-dancing-stripper-routine” DVD is that you can’t do it while you’re kids are around. The last thing I need is my Daughter doing “the Bootie Bump”, or my Son trying to copy “the Party Girl”! So- if you go for it, do it while the kids are napping or at school- as for me, I’m not doing it in front of anyone but the cat until I have some of these moves mastered!

"Hip Thrusts"...I can do that!

"The Party Girl"

After I finished the “Booty Beat” DVD, I was feeling all sexy and empowered, and I thought I would move onto the “Chair Dance” DVD. Be forewarned here, friends- do not attempt the chair routine until you have mastered the art of being stripperrific, are super flexible, and can feel really sexy doing some seriously crazy-slutty moves! Do not do as I did, and skip straight to the chair routine- get the first one down for a few days, then move on. Learn from my mistake….

So, I put on the chair DVD, and the skinny, tan, flat-as-a-board abs, perfectly endowed instructor purrs, “You’ll never look at your kitchen chair the same…” Allow that to be a warning, Ladies! So, I continue on with the DVD, “walk unassumingly around the chair, sit with your back arched…” So far so good. “Do a sexy stretch….” I can do that alright…”Stand up to the side of the chair, kick your left leg over the back of the chair, straddle, and sit”….I’m a dancer, right? So, I just follow along….except, I realize midway through kicking my left leg up and over the back of the chair, that it was not going to clear the top of the back of the chair. So, not only did I topple over the back of the chair, I lost my balance, landed on the now upside-down chair on my hip, and have a huge bruise on my ass to show for it. Notice, there are no pictures of the “Chair Dance” workout…nor will there be. The “Chair Dance” is intended to be somewhat of an ab/core workout, but mostly for you to learn the art of  chair dancing, in order to show it to your significant other. I wouldn’t dream of making such an ass out of myself in front of the Husband, until I am a Master Chairdancer! Then, I can graduate, and move up the ranks to “Poledancer”.

The 10-foot Pole...Seriously

 It’s then and only then, I will graduate from bashing myself on an overturned chair, to breaking my neck trying to climb upsidedown on a pole in my living room…..Stay tuned!

The End!

It is a global obsession, and I have fallen prey to it! Three years ago, I was very content in my little world of a handful of friends and my family, until one night, I went to a bar to hear a local band play, and after, they said “You can hear more of our new music on Myspace!” What the hell is that, I wondered? So I asked my sister, who is eight years younger than I, and way more hip what it was. Like a crack dealer, she snuck me into her room upstairs at my parents house, locked the door behind us and said, “Dude- check this out…” Then she pulled up her Myspace account, and showed me all these pictures of long lost friends, bands and music that she loved, tons of pictures….my first question was, “You can just look someone up by their first and last name?” “Yeah, TRY IT…” she said in a low, convincing voice. My fingers trembled as I entered the first and last name of the first ex-boyfreind to pop into my head. Voila! He appeared- picture and all- pictures of him, his wife, their kids. Holy cow! This is fun! I started typing in the names of all of my ex-boyfriends, and one by one, got the scoop on all of them, what they were up to, whether or not they were married, whether or not their wives were hotter than me- if they upgraded or downgraded ( I know I’m not the only one who does this…don’t judge)! And like that- I was hooked!

Just when I really started getting into Myspace, and had even dared a couple of times to play drunk Myspace (kinda like drunk-dialing, but not as dangerous, ’cause you can’t really talk to anyone), and started friend requesting all these ex-boyfriends…I do not recommend operating a Myspace page while under the influence, by the way. I would run into people at the mall or around town, and feel super cool and uber-trendy when I could tell them “find me on Myspace- we’ll keep in touch!” I would change my song every day or so, I would “pimp” out my page with graphics and codes and glitter, send comments, post pictures- I had become a Myspace whore.

Then one day, I saw a comment from a gal I worked with that said, “Peace out, Myspace- I’m moving on to Facebook!” Facebook- what is that? Some Myspace knock-off, no way! I’m staying true to my roots, I’m sticking with Myspace. Oh, sure, I took a little peek and I was totally bewildered by the “status” the “posts”, the applications and getting “Poked”- yeah, don’t think I want to be “poked” by some creepy dude I blew off in highschool- thanks, but no thanks.

So, as my friends started to drop off Myspace like flies to jump onto the Facebook bandwagon- I was steadfast. I kept answering the “all about me surveys”, posting pictures, changing my music, until one day I realized that the people I really wanted to keep in touch with were all on Facebook now. That I went from trendy Myspace girl to not-cool girl who’s not yet on Facebook. Nobody wants to be the not-cool girl, right? So, I did it- gave into the peer pressure, and opened a Facebook account.

At first, I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I posted a bunch of pictures into what I thought was an album, that ended up instead on my “wall”. I would send my friends messages, instead of writing on their wall, and they would bitch at me, “You never wrote me back! So, I figured you didn’t want to go to girl’s night out…” “WHAT? I totally wrote you back! I messaged you!” I would exclaim. “Noooo- you write on the wall- it’s faster” they explained. Oh. Not a cool girl quite yet.

After a couple of weeks, I got the hang of it. I was posting my status daily, finding friends, suggesting friends, even drunk friend requesting ex-boyfriends! After a month, I even closed my Myspace account- “Myspace- that’s for amateurs”, I thought to myself. I’ve had people friend request me that I went to Sunday school with when I was seven, and a girl that hated me in high-school- even slapped me once, were now my “friends”. Some, I had to reach into my deepest depths of memory, past all the haze caused by years of partying in L.A., to try to grasp who this person was, but I would always add them, even if I couldn’t remember how on earth I knew them, ’cause I’m an equal opportunity friend adder.

BUSTED! I’m supposed to be writing a book review, but I’m playing Facebook instead!

I even walked the uncharted territory of adding people I work with, my bosses and co-workers. I struggled with this one. Do I want them to know that my status is “Kristin is recovering from a blaring headache from a bottle of red wine she drank last night.” Or, do I lie on my status, censor myself, ignore my whole First Amendment right to my freedom of speech? I finally figured, “I’m a bartender, I’m not curing cancer- it’s not that big of a deal if my boss knows I tie one on once in a while.”

Then out of no where, WHAM!  “Charlene would like to add you as a friend”. *Gulp* I only know of one Charlene…my Mother. Now, I am close with my Mom, and I love my Mom, but if she’s my Facebook friend, she’s gonna know all kinds of crap that I might otherwise omit from casual conversation. For example, if she asks how my night was out with my girlfriends, I would tell her, “It was fun! We had some drinks, we were safe, took a cab.”  But, if she was my Facebook friend, she will see pictures of my drunk ass dressed all slutty singing “I Touch Myself” at karaoke, or the occasional cigarrette in my hand in pictures snapped before I could quickly hide it behind me… all evidence that would certainly out me from being the sweet little wifey-poo and mommy dearest that I would like for her to believe that I am! Now, I’ll really have to censor myself! But, she’s my Mom- she gave birth to me, I can’t NOT add her- how disrespectful is that? But if I do, then Facebooking is no longer fun, and every time I post a picture or a status, I have to wonder “what would my Mom think about this?” After half a day of agonizing over my decision, I decided to add her. Thankfully, she seldom checks her page, hasn’t even uploaded a picture yet, and definitely doesn’t get on enough to catch all my updates, so, it’s really not a big deal.

Yesterday, I received a message from my cousin, asking if I received a Friend request from my Grammie. Are you kidding me? I type her name in the “Friend Finder” and sure enough, my 78-year-old Southern Baptist, heart of gold, pure as snow, knows the bible from cover-to-cover Grammie is on Facebook. Now that would definitely put a damper on my Facebook party! The woman has never let alcohol touch her lips, or sinned in her life, and I’m gonna let her see status posts about ”Kristin is still voiceless after singing ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’, and twisted an ankle while doing cartwheels on Main Street while she was out with the girls last night”- I THINK NOT! So, for now, I’m in Facebook undercover spy mode- adding a hyphen in between my two last names every couple of days, taking it back out, changing my location once in a while, and so far, sweet Grammie hasn’t found me yet! But, if she does, believe you me- I will be forced to jump ship, and give into the enemy, at which time, you can chose or chose not to “Follow Me”.