A Lover of the Pole
"I am obsessed with pole dancing," my friend said excitedly, as she sat down to join us. This very well may have been the second thing she said to us, right after hello.
Apparently, she'd been taking strip dancing classes, complete with pole, at Crunch or New York Sports Club, or the subway, or wherever they offer such things. But for my friend, it's not just a good workout or a chance to get in touch with her sexuality. "It's like the pole is my center. If I can focus on that, I can focus all my energy."
And while it sounds a little like advice that might come from Jenna Jameson if she were to meld with the Dalai Lama, I think I see her point: pole dancing is her happy place.
And it made me think: what exactly is mine?
I would say sleeping, but when I'm stressed I have horrible nightmares (most recently about rabid squirrels), and I toss and turn. I'd say it's alcohol, but that doesn't make me happy, it just makes me forget. I'd say it's heroin, because I hear it makes you really happy, but I've never tried. And since I went bowling on Sunday and I'm still sore two days later, I don't think I have a body built for drug abuse.
I mean, if it's not drugs and not sleep, what's left? A good stand-up set? Maybe, except you can't always predict when that's going to happen (insert jokes about my limited ability to make people laugh here).
And then it dawned on me. My happy place is when I really click with someone. It sounds incredibly retarded, but I think it's true. Back in college my friends used to make fun of me because I'd be at a party and then I'd disappear. And I'd return several hours later incredibly satisfied. And no, it wasn't because I had some tawdry nookie in a bathroom somewhere, it was because I met someone and talked for hours and had, as my friends began to call it, "a good conversation."
Granted, I may be a little drunk when it happens, but that's not the point. Good conversations, where you really connect with someone, make me happy. And maybe that makes me a little bit special, in the "I may need to wear a helmet" kind of way. But I'm okay with that. Then again, maybe I just need to take up pole dancing.
Labels: dalai lama, drugs, good conversation, happy place, jenna jameson, pole dancing, sleeping
4 Comments:
you are definitely special. and i mean that in the most loving way...
9:40 AM
You are special, many people love you, and also I took a pole dancing class once and it was like joining a cult.
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