Tag Archives: 90s

highschool

High. School.

5 March 2013

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If you’re new to my page, let me get you up to speed. I’m a 44-year-old recovering hot mess who, from 1987 to 1996, used to grab her ankles on the stripper stage in Waikiki, where I grew up. I survived some pretty major shit as a kid and am writing a book about how it all comes together – after everything fell apart.

My main squeeze was Blow, but I had a torrid affair with Ecstasy after our introduction on my 21st birthday, and for a solid five years, I was in love with both. Booze was always my back-burner bitch, and every now and then Acid and Shrumes crashed the party. But Cocaine – from the moment I snorted my first line at fourteen – she was The One.

You may be wondering how a freshman in high school could even get their hands on drugs. Trust me. It ‘aint hard. At least, it wasn’t in the 80s. But I gotta say, with the current drugs of choice coming straight from mom and dad’s medicine cabinet these days, I can’t imagine accessibility being a huge deal.

But how could a parent not know?

Parents don’t see what they don’t want to believe. It’s the Holy Grail of addiction for a kid: we know you think you know, and with every turn of your blind eye, we delve deeper into our addiction. Of course, not every high schooler who pops a pill, smokes a joint, slams a beer or even tries blow is an addict. But so what? Isn’t even one kid who uses too many? And let’s get real – there are shitloads of kids getting high. Not buying it? Here’s a free sample of some raw facts:

“Recent research by the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse reveals that drug use among teens has reached epidemic levels: a staggering ONE out of every THREE teenagers meets the medical criteria for addiction.” Kristen Johnston – SLAM

That little nugget of Scary is a direct quote from SLAM (Sobriety, Learning and Motivation), an organization actress and author Kristen Johnston started five years ago, which assists New York City’s youth in recovery.

The deeper I dig into my own personal story, with every chapter that unfolds within the safety of my words as I write this book, the more I’m realizing – what a gift Kristen and SLAM is to our kids and families today.

I can’t help but wonder how different my own path would’ve been, had I been part of a sober high school.

But regret is an allergy for us addicts – if we allow ourselves even a taste – we break out in shame. And life is fucking hard enough without having to disinfect our past. So we move forward, one day at a Goddamned time, navigating around the land mines of blame.

But someone is to blame.

Every addict has their own story, so there’s no way we can blanket the world with one giant finger-pointing party. The bottom line is, once your child is in trouble, in the immediate sense, it really doesn’t matter how they got there (ok, it does, but you’ll have plenty of time to figure that out during Family Week).

The hooks of addiction are sharp and unmerciful, and they don’t need a reason to puncture, they just need the skin. And when it comes to our children, SLAM (and every sober high school in the country) is the greatest armor we have.

I’m not a therapist, interventionist, doctor or specialist – but what I can tell you is teenage addiction (and depression) is REAL. If you need more proof, here’s a poem I wrote, high on cocaine in 1983. I was fifteen.

~

whiteladypoem

If you’re wondering whether your teen (or anyone you know) is an addict, TheFix.com is a great source of information.

For more information on Kristen’s sober high school, SLAM, please visit their website www.slamnyc.org.

To read Kristen’s personal story, pick up her book GUTS (I dare you not to laugh through tears). Here’s my review.

twosisters

Mea Culpa: Confessions of a Baby Sister

13 July 2012

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A fancy, edited version is featured on Salon.
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No bride expects her maid of honor to be high on drugs on the big day – especially when it’s her younger sister in the supporting role.
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After church, photographs, and the limousine ride, we arrived at the reception. Between greeting the guests, gift giving and more photo sessions, I found a pocket of time to slip away to meet my dealer in the hotel lobby.
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Armed with a half gram of cocaine, I locked myself in the bathroom stall. Lifting my strapless, floor-length bridesmaid dress, I straddled the back of the toilet with my dyed-to-match pastel pumps. I held my over-teased, Aquanet sprayed hair with one hand, and snorted through a rolled up dollar bill with the other.
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Within seconds, my heartbeat kicked up a notch, and the music echoing through the hall began to thump a little louder. The subtle vibration of the metal stall reminded me where I was, but I wasn’t in a hurry. As long as I heard music, I knew I had time.
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A couple more lines, pantyhose adjustment, and lip-gloss reapplication later, and I was ready to head back. Before reaching the door, I cursed the fluorescent lighting framing the mirror, surveyed my nostrils, and wiped away any evidence of my secret.
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Stepping closer toward the ballroom, I couldn’t escape thoughts of my upcoming toast.  I was brewing with cocaine confidence, but still had no idea what I was going to say. I just knew I had to say something.
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At 18, I had little life experience, so mom served up a crash course in maid of honor etiquette the night before the wedding. My toast was to be light-hearted and personal – a trip down relationship lane about my sister and new brother-in-law.
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“Just share a nice story about them.”
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The problem was, I didn’t really have any stories, nice or otherwise. Short of all the pre-wedding hullabaloo, my sister and I barely spoke.
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“Okay” I agreed.
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The ballroom was packed. When my time came to toast the happy couple, my eyes wrestled with the spotlight, and landed on Continue reading »
Musical memory: who was your first concert?

Musical memory: who was your first concert?

14 May 2012

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There’s something about being in the presence of live music that provides such a gift. As audience members, we allow ourselves to get lost within the melody, riding the waves of each instrument, feeling the energy as it seeps into our blood. With every drum beat, guitar riff, base line and lyric – we soak it all in. What’s theirs is suddenly ours, wrapping around our hearts, moving our bodies to the beat of extraordinary creation. Live music is so raw and real, never duplicated in the exact way you experience it, which is what makes living in the moment, and sharing performances of your favorite musicians priceless.

It doesn’t matter if the venue is small (my favorite), or the size of a football field, the energy among audience members is palpable – even before anyone steps foot on stage. And when they do – when the space is illuminated and that very first sound fills the air, we all feel it – the collective first musical kiss. Our knees get weak and butterflies turn to thunderous applause and cheers.

On the heels of a Billy Idol reference regarding last week’s post (with those crazy 80s photos), I thought this would be a fun question to answer.

Who was the first person (band) you saw in concert?

I’ll go first.

The first (supervised, with my mom) performance I saw was Stevie Wonder, at age 13 in 1982. He rocked that piano out like no one’s business; so much so, at one point, he actually fell off his piano chair. He quickly recovered, and finished the show with the most insane rendition of “Boogie On Reggae Woman” I ever heard. To this day, I can’t keep still when hearing that tune.

My first (unsupervised) concert was a triple threat of musical goodness: Cheap Trick, who opened for The Police, who opened for Continue reading »

An obsessive, bionic, Japanese speaking snoop?

An obsessive, bionic, Japanese speaking snoop?

25 April 2012

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1992 (24 yrs old) Donna (left) and me (right) on Halloween in the dressing room. Note the poster of Eric on the door.

On the heels of gal pal Dalai Lina’s post today, I’m going to share five things about myself that you don’t know – then ask you to share a little about YOU.

Here’s me:

1)

In 1992, I was obsessed with The Real World (season one)‘s Eric Nies (notice him on the dressing room door behind me). Obsessed. He was hot, fun and totally unattainable, just the type of man I liked.

After The Real World wrapped, Eric parlayed his 15 minutes into a “VJ” (video jockey) role on MTV.  When a contest to guest host with Eric for a week was announced, I quickly entered. The rules stated we could enter as many times as we liked, so that’s exactly what I did. I hand wrote thousands of post cards and mailed them to the MTV corporate offices in New York. Convinced I would win, I drove around the island dropping off hundreds of entries in different post boxes, thinking I had a better chance of winning if the mail was spread out. I had all the dancers in the club filling out these post cards during their time off stage.

I didn’t win, but it was an incredible display of my tenacity and passion; not to mention a lesson in life being incredibly unfair.

2)

In the third grade, I was a bit of a track star in school. When a fellow classmate asked me “how can you run so fast?”, I couldn’t help myself. I told her I was bionic. Her mouth gasped open, and to prove my lie, I said “watch this…” and proceeded to walk up to the hand-powered, wall mounted pencil sharpener and grinded that pencil within an inch of its life. She promised to keep my secret under wraps and was thrilled to know a real-life Bionic Woman.

3)

I’m left-handed, but do everything else with my right hand. I’m also dyslexic and have the worst hand writing known to man. I should have been a serial killer. Or a doctor.

4)

I speak Japanese. When you grow up in Hawaii, the second language is Japanese, so it makes sense. Thanks to a summer job at Häagen-Dazs in Waikiki, I still know how to say “A dollar sixty-nine”, “big cone, or small cone?”, and “I’ll be with you in a moment”.

Years later in Northern California, I worked as a store manager at Ann Taylor. When a group of Japanese tourists walked in the store, I greeted them and chatted a little in Japanese to them. They were stunned!

Angela and me. Love the Milli Vanilli shorts.

5)

I’m a recovering snoop. When Robert and I lived together, I snooped all the time. You’d think the fact he was a drug dealer would’ve scared me, but I didn’t care. I wanted to catch him in the cheating act, because I knew he was playing around, and I thought if I had proof, it’d help me leave him.

When I discovered a love letter and photo from a stunning blonde, Angela, I immediately phoned the number she left. After introducing myself, Angela invited me for a drink and I curiously accepted. We learned a TON about Robert and decided to confront him together. Later that night, you could’ve knocked him over with a feather when he came home to see Angela and I sitting on the couch, hamming it up.

I kicked Robert out and Angela moved in. It was the beginning of a life long friendship, and I consider her to be one of the most amazing women I know.

It’s been years since I’ve played detective. When you surround yourself with people you love and trust, there really is no need to invade someones personal space. My motto is, if I feel like I should be checking your phone or emails, I shouldn’t be dating you in the first place.

So there you have it. Five random facts about me that you didn’t know.

Can you think of any you’d like to share about YOU?

Dancing Queens

Dancing Queens

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Navigating six-inch heels on stage with smoke in your face takes practice. Sporting a smile while dancing to Me So Horny in those heels takes a cocktail.

In the near ten years I was a stripper, one of the unique challenges I faced was pretending to like certain types of music. Like suffering through a bad date, you realize something isn’t your taste but you smile politely and muddle through.

A typical Saturday night set on the main stage was shared with three other women, each providing the DJ with very specific song requests. I was always the Enigma or Nine Inch Nails Girl with an occasional PJ Harvey thrown in for good measure. Pair that up with the Bel Biv Devoe and Naughty by Nature Dancers and let the muddling ensue. It’s not that I didn’t appreciate a little Ice Cube with my INXS; I just didn’t feel sexy dancing on stage to it. I always felt like an extra on MTV’s Beach House.

My personal taste in music was a bit more edgy and alternative than what was played on mainstream radio. In classic narcissistic fashion, I took full credit for introducing the local masses to PJ Harvey’s Down by the Water. The song made absolutely no sense to me, but it made me feel sexy as hell. My style on stage was very Bob Fosse inspired, so the percussions were the perfect backdrop for the wanna-be Solid Gold dancer in me. When I was eleven, I was obsessed with the movie All That Jazz. Go figure.

You may be surprised to learn that strippers actually cared about what music they danced to. I can’t speak for exotic dancers today, but back in my day (it’s official, I’m old) most us gals actually danced. Don’t get me wrong; the American Ballet Theatre wasn’t banging down the door, but there were performances, and some of them were downright amazing. I used to sit in awe with my 21 year-old eyes popping in wonder at such beautiful women and their talent. A couple, more seasoned gals in their late 20′s come to mind.

There was Gretta, a petite but solid blonde woman who walked on stage donning an old-granny mask, baggy clothes and a cane while The Beach Boys Little Old Lady From Pasadena sang in the air. The audience would cheer in excitement mid-song as Gretta peeled off her mask revealing her stunning face. Cheering continued as the body of a goddess emerged from the baggy clothes and the money would literally fly on the stage as the men stood in awe. Gretta was the embodiment of classic blonde beauty and top-notch physique. Think; Brigitte Bardot meets Jessica Biel.

Loretta, a raven haired vixen from the island of Kauai, was another showstopper; a feature dancer performing just a couple of times a year. Buzz in the air about her arrival equated to the club filled to capacity. I don’t know if Loretta invented chair show choreography, but she sure did master it. I remember being star-struck by this exotic beauty who loved her Cannabis and was never shy about it. If the smell of a burning joint bothered you, you knew not to hang out in the dressing room when Loretta was in town. Each time I watched her show, I was mesmerized. In addition to Loretta’s flawless, ivory skin and thick wavy hair (think Dita Von Teese) her oversized tattoo on her left thigh kept my gaze. I remember thinking only someone really hot could get away with a tattoo that large on your thigh. I don’t even remember what her tatoo was of, but she made it work. Not too many women could pull off Goddess with half their leg marked in ink.

One night in a local bar, some random guy came up to me asking if I had a large tattoo on my left thigh. I almost kissed him.

Gretta and Loretta were just a two of the many women throughout the years that helped my inner Goddess emerge purely by inspiration. Thanks ladies. Wherever you are.

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90's Flashback: The Strip

90′s Flashback: The Strip

25 February 2010

19 Comments

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Strippers from the mainland always came to Waikiki to work and hearing their stories left me chomping at the bit. Having never left the island, I felt it was time to take myself on an adventure and see how the rest of the world lived; well one town anyway.
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Three years into my life as a stripper at 22 years old, I hopped on a plane to California from Hawaii after purchasing a one-way air ticket. I figured I would make my return fare home on stage, whenever I felt like making it back to the island.
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For work, I checked out the scene at Star Strip and a handful of other dives, but decided on The Seventh Veil located right on the Sunset Strip. Mötley Crüe filmed part of their video for Girls Girls Girls there so that was all I needed.
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Although I was officially on a working vacation, I still found time to let my overly teased and Aquanetted hair down – not to mention make very questionable fashion choices. Below are some Polaroid’s from a night after work at The Whisky on Sunset. It’s safe to say, I was going through an all-white nurse-fantasy fashion phase.

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The complete story of my Hollywood adventure will be told in the book.

Thanks so much for your interest and following. It really helps keep me going.