509

The turnaround.

FIVE-HUNDRED-AND-NINE

December 12, 2025

Santiago, Chile

11:13 AM

Neptune just went direct, felt it the day it happened. Neptune has been retrograde in Pisces for MONTHS, and it was making everything foggy, escapism was taking on a huge role…...

Pisces rules my sixth house of daily activities, so my daily activities are inherently Piscean: watery, escapist, hello poetry, hello endless travel, hello excessive marijuana use, hello wild journey through this wild continent one day at a time, don’t ask what’s happening tomorrow, I may not even be eating by the way life is headed. Ideally, the sixth house operates under the sign of Virgo, the literal exact opposite of Pisces….but we all know I’ve rejected the Virgo lifestyle: a husband, normal jobs, and staying still don’t make sense in my sixth house. That’s how I’ve been all along. BUT WHEN YOU ADD IN NEPTUNE, the planet of dreams and delusion and FOG and nothing normal squatting in Pisces, flooding up my daily activities……it’s certainly taken me on a ride. How wild the past six months have been (!!!!) one after the other: Panama, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, and now Chile, and here in Chile, I’ve been dreaming, dreaming….about Guam. The first dream told me the money is good, which whets my appetite because you already know I’ve been struggling. A few days ago, Aunt Aquarius and I talked on the phone, had laid it all out to her about what was going on in terms of my day-to-day. She seemed alarmed. I said if things got really bad, I could always call Guam. She didn’t like that answer, specifically pressing: But Melissa, what are you going to do when you can’t strip anymore?!?! And I said: I’ve been writing this whole time, it has to turn around at some point. A few days later she sent $50, told me to go get something to eat, but I needed that money for another week’s worth of rent. I BARELY had enough to pay for the very first week after proposing this whole two-month deal.

Sigh.

I’m sighing.

It was nice that she sent it though; she’s never done that before. Apparently she called up Double Gemini and asked her specifically how to do it….which makes me laugh because Double Gemini would certainly know!

Camming…...I don’t know what’s going on. I just know IT USED TO BE AMAZING, but now it’s not. These days, I am stripping for cents on the dollar, and it’s demeaning, disrespectful, downright infuriating….I could go on. I got into this business because the MONEY MADE IT WORTH IT, but not these days, not even close. I tried, I swear I tried…..but I’m not buying a sex machine, I’m not spreading my legs in pubic for just anyone to come and jerk off for free, I don’t want to sit online ALL EFFING DAY like the top girls do with their sexually charged, fancily decorated rooms…….I don’t have it in me, I swear to God, I don’t even want to try.

And I didn’t want to go back to Guam…….but I have been craving familiarity, really wanting to BE somewhere for awhile, somewhere….as much as I hate to say it, where I can COMMUNICATE myself thoroughly, where I KNOW how to get around, where I know people who will be HAPPY to see me….

There’s more.

I’ve missed freediving. So much of my world is online these days. I’m staring at screens all day. I don’t like it, I miss being in the world, exploring, just……seeing the Earth, beholding the Earth, interacting with our ever awe-inspiring, seriously poetry-inducing Earth. I’ve missed Guam, and I KNOW Guam comes with its troubles, but going back right now feels like I’d be going home, a TRUE home, I’ve never felt that way about anywhere else except New York. For some reason, I keep going back; there’s no other place like it.

All this has been ruminating.

Only thoughts.

Stronger every day.

But on the day Neptune went direct, that very morning, I had another dream. Much more detailed this time. I was fighting off…..some kind of big cat, lots of them, mountain lions or jaguars, a whole team of them. I was right next to this pool of water, close to the edge, it was filled with seals, and I’m trying to get them to go after the seals…..but they’re intent on me, launching themselves through the air and I’m heaving my whole weight against them, forcing them away but they’re closing in, forcing me closer and closer to the edge of the water and I’m out of my mind with fear………but then everything changes, all of a sudden my surroundings are shifting, dissolving then solidifying and I’m realizing……I’m in Guam, in the strip club. Immediately I’m looking for the door and it’s bolted shut, securely safe. I felt SO safe! Fully fucking aware I’d just escaped those mountain lions and breathing heavy with relief because of it, I almost died (!!!!!!) mauled to death in the wild……and then someone is handing me big check. I was staring at it in my hands, addressed to me in blue ink as everything faded to black…..and as I opened my eyes, I knew it was time to make the call. The feeling couldn’t have been more immediate. I literally reached for my phone as I was waking up, it was so instinctual it felt scary, too scary, I was stopping myself like: Wait! I need to think about this, I need to pull some tarot cards, I need to…..just, sit with this for a minute.

And so I made my bed, boiled some ginger tea, went to the bathroom……but there’s no toilet paper. Usually there is. This place provides it. A few rolls are portioned out while the rest are stored behind a locked closet, taken as needed when the cleaners come through a few times a week. But there was no toilet paper late last night……it stayed like that the entire night, and upon waking up….still nothing. This was a problem because I had about four dollars left, only a single dollar was allotted each day, and it was for the cherries. Four guaranteed mornings of cherries. But now…there’s no toilet paper, and I’m in dire need given this cherry/cornmeal explosion desperately trying to careen itself out of me.

It was then that the realization occurred…I’d need to break my budget for toilet paper.

And I wasn’t happy about it.

Without even bothering to change out of my pink heart pajamas, I threw on some shoes and ran out the door, into the corner store, hemming and hawing over the prices, looking for the dead cheapest one, which turned out to be the equivalent of two days’ worth of cherries, almost three.

Ooooh I hated spending that money, loathing the mere necessity of it, slashing my food budget to wipe my ass….it was ridiculous, action must be taken. I thought: I can’t live like this any longer. I won’t. A refusal is now entering the chat. GETTING NAKED ON THE INTERNET WHEN I CAN’T AFFORD TO EAT is not conducive to my lifestyle. I am fucking finished. So I marched my skinny legs right back up to the apartment (utilized the facilities) and got on my phone to message the owner of my club in Guam.

We call her Mama.

Initially, about eight years ago, when first arriving to Guam and meeting her, I never called her Mama, it felt weird. I avoided calling her anything at all. That changed during Covid when she started treating me like an actual daughter, like….letting me live above her club for free. I started calling her Mama then because that’s what it felt like, she was there for me, paying the wifi, the electric, the air conditioning, sending people to check on me, making sure I was okay. She blew me away. She’s a Sagittarius actually, arguably my least favorite sign, but there’s always exceptions, and she most assuredly is one. I’ve worked for so many other clubs run by men that treat it as if it’s their own personal whorehouse…….but not her, she is professional and generous, and I’ve never worked in a better club. I mean that.

However, she took awhile to get back to me….leaving me riddled with acute anxiety the entire time. What if she says no?! What am I going to do? Genuinely no idea! Saying yes means she would fly me out, put me in dancer housing, pay me $500 a week, PLUS half of everything I sell, PLUS all my stage tips, PLUS bonuses. THERE ARE STRIPCLUBS WHERE YOU HAVE TO PAY TO WORK…….but she reveres the strippers, it’s so obvious, of course, you have to meet her standards, she doesn’t take everyone, you have to submit pictures when first applying, and if deemed suitable, you’ll be flown out. However, if you don’t look like the picture upon arrival, you’re left stranded. I heard that happened a lot in the old days. She doesn’t play. There are signs around the club stating you need to keep your figure too, otherwise you’re suspended, sometimes fired……I’m not saying she’s perfect; she’s a businesswoman, and she knows without strippers, she’s got no business, so she treats us accordingly. I’ve only submitted pictures once, my first time, and I remember rushing to apply because I was about to turn thirty and they didn’t accept anyone over 30…..but my age has never been a problem for her. I actually flew myself out the first time because I didn’t trust this random club in the middle of the Pacific with my personal information, I said I’d show up when I was good and ready (took a little two week vacation upon arriving on the island, had NEVER seen water so blue, intended to enjoy it….and I did) but when that day came, the female manager gave me the hardest once over before even greeting me….and it’s been smooth sailing since.

I stay for awhile. I leave. I stay for awhile. I leave.

Every time I’ve asked to come back, they’ve flown me out right away. How many times?! I think this is my fifth? Possibly sixth?! I’ve never stayed anywhere more than Guam throughout my travels. It feels like home, and after all this uncertainty, all this wandering around South America, I feel like going back right now is necessary.

The longer Mama took to write me back, the harder the launches from all the worries slingshotting around in my head were hitting. I couldn’t focus on anything else. I just sat there counting off my cons like: I’m a lot older now….more than a decade than most of the other girls there….twenty years older than the minimum age to apply. Ooof. I attacked that customer last time too, got in a little bit of trouble for that….they could hold it against me.

There’s more.

Last time I made a big deal about never coming back, gave away my stripper clothes, my stripper shoes, bought Mama a big bottle of Hennessy (her favorite) and sobbed hugging her goodbye, I thought it would be forever. FUNNY HOW LIFE WORKS. Not too long ago, I was chatting with a girl I worked with during my last stint there, the Virgo who has FUCK YOU in big bold letters on the back of her thighs…..apparently, she had been trying to go back for over a year, but they continue to say they have no space for her. What if they said the same to me? Just flat out refused. It could happen.

So I waited. Couldn’t focus on anything else. Just stared at my phone and prayed to the stripper gods.

When the message arrived, I screamed, literally, spiritually, emotionally, and joyfully just let out a long-awaited, full-body wail. I was saved.

She’s telling me to sort out the flights with the club manager, as she was vacationing in Korea.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I messaged the manager, then called Double Gemini. I was worried she wouldn’t approve, but she understood, she knows it’s been rough, and she wants me to be happy. I told her I was excited and she’s excited for me:) SHE ALSO SENT *THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS* TO GET MYSELF A FEAST, and oh my god it was pure joy rolling through that supermarket: red lentil pasta, fresh produce, expensive tomato sauce, yellow potatoes, pure balsamic vinegar, three flavors of hummus, vegetable chips, everything flavored rice crackers, creamy feta cheeze (the good kind, the best kind, the only one kind and nothing else) and MORE, MUCH MORE. I practically skipped home and played loud music as I prepared my dinner feast. When it was finally ready, I arranged all the plates and platters and silverware and napkins and condiments and accoutrements on my bed, semi-circled myself into submission by all the wafting scents, and I’m lifting my hands into the air, giving thanks for Double Gemini, for Guam, for all this food, and for being saved over and over again. I’m so grateful.

Melissa Ryan