The first question Ivywood ever asked me in May of 2019 was what my zodiac sign is. That's when I knew she is a fucking idiot who categorizes people based on false bullshit, and I should stay away from her. Ivywood was apprehensive about me when I replied Taurus. I think she said she's a Virgo, not that it matters. Astrology isn't real. The only cool thing about astrology is when rich people hilariously spend lots of money on the materials to enrich pauper charlatan saleswomen.

The 2019 Mouse's Ear crew might be surprised to know that I fucking loathed Ivywood. I kept my hatred for Ivywood shrouded in secrecy at Mouse's Ear until the very end, when I spoke with LingLing on the phone about it. LingLing spilled the beans. I think I might've told Brandy and Bunny about my secret hatred for Ivywood near the end, after LingLing spilled the beans. To everyone else, I pretended like LingLing was full of shit. She wasn't full of shit. I really do hate Ivywood. The only reason why I'm not doxxing Ivywood now is because she is extremely secretive about her identity. I was unable to gather a shred of information about her that would lead me to her legal name. She keeps a Kaczynski-level low profile. With all this doxxing on Mouse's Ear Memoirs, perhaps she is happy about those security culture choices right about now. She lives somewhere secluded in rural Appalachia, up a long gravel road, so she says. That doesn't explain why I hate her though. Let's back up.

Ivywood didn't come into Mouse's Ear too often, but she had a regular presence during my first few weeks. She'd cycle through coming in, off and on, throughout my six months. Ivywood usually carried an animal fur with her, and placed it on chairs before sitting down. It looked like a North American Cottontail rabbit, but I could be wrong. Ivywood initially told me that she came to Appalachia from Iowa, but later revealed that she is from somewhere near the Quad Cities, Illinois. I've camped near Quad Cities many times. It is a conservative area, and nothing like Chicagoland despite being in the same state. Whatever Upper Midwestern town Ivywood was from, she had distinctly nasally points to her hidden accent, which she intentionally made sound more Southern. Whatever Upper Midwestern town Ivywood was from, she was a carpetbagger with no ancestral ties to Tennessee that I was aware of. She told me that she likes “hillbillies” and living in Appalachia seemed “right.” Most of our Southern coworkers accepted her as one of their own. Ivywood told me that she worked at Mouse's Ear for about four years. During our first conversation, she said that she didn't talk to any of the other dancers during her first year at Mouse's Ear. She informed me that they were abnormally mean to her, and that Mouse's Ear dancers were abnormally mean in comparison to other clubs she has worked. Ivywood didn't have a good short term memory, so she repeated this “I didn't talk to coworkers my first year” anecdote to me several times during my six months at Mouse's Ear. This doesn't explain why I hate her though.

Ivywood was around her mid-twenties, mid-height for an adult white female, with long light brown hair and an average-looking nondescript feminine face of perhaps French or German origins. She was pretty, but also unremarkable. Her legs were long in ratio to her body, with an hourglass lower half of flared out hips that many people found aesthetically pleasing, a smaller chest, and a very tidy put-together natural appearance of a middle-class Midwestern person-- turned Appalachian hippie. Ivywood didn't hack off all of her female genital hairs like most of the other Mouse's Ear hags, but her hair is also light brown. Her overall appearance is not as dramatic or offensive as mine, but we both share a certain Earthy aesthetic. Her skin is not as porcelain fair as mine, he hair not nearly as dark to contrast the skin, and she's not as tall and lanky as me. She's more socially acceptable in a non-threatening feminine way. Ivywood usually applied some kind of piney fragrance or essential oil to her person, and burned sage at her locker during times of tension. Most of the dancers were impressed by her performative new age pseudo-scientific coolness. I was never impressed. I dislike pseudo-science, sage burning, North American Cottontail death-fashion, astrology, and many other things about Ivywood. I hate toxic positivity. I hate apathy. I hate poseurs. I hate complicit ignorance. I haven't even gotten to the sexual harassment yet.

Ivywood had a non-legal “spiritual marriage” with a man she called her husband. She stated that she didn't need a piece of paper to be married. Ivywood regularly talked about doing lots of drugs in rural Appalachia, but didn't specify what kinds. If I had to guess, I'd say natural psychedelics. She once stated that she gets paranoid when the mailman comes to her house, and she has to hide her drugs when she hears him coming up the gravel road. Ivywood drove a practically brand new black truck. She often discussed the large property that she lived on, and the animals she collected. These animals included baby goats and black dogs. She did not rescue these animals from bad situations; she purchased them from capitalist exploitative breeders. She once stated that she was trying to manifest a certain color pet cat, but manifested it incorrectly, and her dog killed a stray cat of the same color she was trying to manifest. Ivywood's non-legal husband had some kind of medical problem which caused his intestines to break apart. Ivywood might've had babies who she didn't want to talk about at work. Ivywood might've worked at some kind of a new age spiritual center with her husband. Ivywood was strongly opposed to using microwaves, because she believed they destroyed vitamins and minerals from the food. Ivywood was absolutely not a vegan, quite the opposite-- she was very pro-meat. One fast food restaurant she ate from was Culver's. I feel sorry for the chicken who was murdered so some meat loving hippie bitch could eat Culver's before work. I still haven't gotten to the sexual harassment.

Ivywood-- literary ethereal antiquity lover that she is-- thought Madison Rae Gladstone's svelte ginger phenotype was extraordinarily beautiful, and commented on it with regularity if they were both working. However, Ivywood had hesitations about interacting with Natalie, due to Natalie's high-strung meanness. Natalie had a tendency to call weak men she disliked “cucks,” in a very 4Chan manner. Ivywood didn't like that, because she and her non-legal husband were into three-ways, and Ivywood was offended with Natalie's derogatory use of the term “cuck.” Lilith was very fond of Ivywood, for her tidy au naturale ways, her sage burning, her useful seamstress skills and hair cutting skills in the dressing room. Lilith repeatedly described Ivywood as “a good woman.” “A Good Woman” is a term that conservatives and assorted Southerners use to describe an adult human female who engages in traditionally feminine activities, and who is perceived to be of honest and upstanding traditional character-- unlike a Nasty Woman. By all definitions, Ivywood was the ultimate Good Woman.

Ivywood was often in the room when, or in close proximity of, people like Rhed or Khaleesi when they were saying horrifyingly terrible things about me, expressing desires to fatally harm me. Ivywood never uttered a word in my defense that I'm aware of. Ivywood was friends with Selexa, and they discussed attending a music festival together where they can walk around naked and do drugs. Doing those things with Selexa sounds like a horrible hell to me, but Ivywood was into the idea. Ivywood expressed amusement when Selexa started following me around, bothering me in the workplace. I haven't even mentioned Ivywood's sexual harassment yet though.

Ivywood thinks of herself as anti-authoritarian or subversive in some way, but I saw her as more of a beta follower. It didn't take long for the comments and opinions about me from people like Khaleesi, Lilith, and Raven to effect Ivywood. Ivywood and I stopped talking at a certain point. More specifically-- Ivywood stopped approaching me to talk. I never initiated contact with her. I did not miss smelling her, or hearing her astrology bullshit, when she stopped talking to me. One time when Khaleesi was berating and threatening me in the dressing room about not letting Alex Cave extort me for “tips,” I stood up for myself by discussing how we shouldn't feel obligated to give away our money to staff. Ivywood started burning sage, not talking to me, not doing anything except engaging in conversation with Khaleesi about clothes or whatever. I hate cowards. They are dangerous. Toxic positivity and sage burning in times of labor conflicts is dangerous. Since Ivywood has a poor memory, she'd come back to work after a few weeks to a month of being gone, and not really recall what had happened the previous times that we worked together. Sometimes she was nice to me, sometimes not. Sometimes she'd come back after being gone for a spell, and randomly try to talk to me or “include” me in conversations with the dressing room hags who she was friends with. Sometimes she complimented me on things like my accessories or clothing items in front of other people, to show her solidarity and willingness to be friendly with me. It was random and dandy, but I preferred strength and consistency. I never needed Ivywood. Ivywood was mean to Bunny when Bunny first started, because everyone else was mean to Bunny. Ivywood would eavesdrop on me sitting with Bunny as we were having an unremarkable conversation at the mirror, putting on cosmetics. Ivywood's behavior wasn't much different than any other territorial cunt with social clout who worked there. I'll get to her sexual harassment, eventually.

In Raven's doxx, I mentioned that she was the only one with sales tallies that regularly kept up with mine. Raven was at work regularly, so that's why I said she was the only one. Ivywood wasn't at work regularly, but when she was, her sales tallies sometimes exceeded mine. Most of the time, Ivywood's tallies were slightly behind mine. There was some subtle unspoken competition between me and Ivywood. I never felt threatened by Plastic Raven, but with Ivywood and I having so much in common physically, and both being from Illinois with nasally accents, mine more prominent because I don't hide it, there was a bit of a rivalry in sales. Sometimes Ivywood would slyly smirk if a customer chose her instead of me and she took them away to do a dance. Sometimes Ivywood would subtly glare at me if I did the same to her. Ivywood heard the false rumors about me being cheap, so she went out of her way to stare at the amounts of money customers were giving me, as though she was trying to determine if the rumors were true. They were not true; only the dressing room hags made those statements as a cope. One time when it was slow and Ivywood was in the mood to be nice to me, she sat down with me on the show floor. She started talking to me about The Secret and “the law of attraction.” She assumed that I believed in such things and that I used neural-linguistic programming as my main method of hustling. She assumed wrong, but I didn't correct her. It was later on in my employment that she started with “the law of attraction” conversation. I already hated her by that point, and I didn't think it would benefit me in any way to disprove “the law of attraction” by explaining the scientific method to some stupid disgusting sexually predatory cunt with her ass on a dead North American Cottontail. Ivywood always assumed that she and I agreed on more things than we did. I fucking hate The Secret. Sing it loud, sing it proud! Ivywood is a pseudoscience loving shitlib from the Midwest, with the opinion that privilege and good things happen to certain people because they think hard enough about it. That's what “the law of attraction” is all about.

Contrary to Lilith’s observations, I occasionally purchased some CBD cigarettes from the store across the road from Mouse's Ear, and occasionally drank one beer per night at work. One day, I lit a CBD cigarette in the dressing room at the start of our shift. Ivywood became upset, along with her friend Raven, and angrily stated that she smells “The Devil's Lettuce.” It was pretty fucking weird that they became so angry about me lighting a CBD cigarette, accusing me of having “The Devil's Lettuce,” when we were otherwise surrounded by illegal narcotics and cannabis vape on a near constant basis.

One time, a friend of mine from outside of work came in because he wanted to say hi. That was not allowed at Mouse's Ear, but I neglected to notify him of the rules. He thought it would be nice to support the dancers by going to the ATM machine after Ivywood introduced herself and requested monies. I intervened while he was at the ATM machine, chatted with him for a while, and instructed him to leave the club. This sent Ivywood into an angry rage. She approached me, having to look up due to our height difference, and accused me of “cut throating.” Even after I explained the confusion to her, she was still angry with me and stated that anyone who walks into a strip club is fair game. It's certainly true that anybody who walks into a strip club is fair game, but it is also true that a friend from the outside world really wasn't supposed to be in there and needed to leave ASAP. Lilith was aware of the incident and made sure to inform the Brownings about it, because they had been known to fire dancers in the past who had friends come in as customers. There was a certain degree of plausible deniability on my part, so Buddy simply gave me a firm expression during a subsequent shift. Ivywood later thanked me for explaining the situation to her, and expressed some sympathy. That still doesn't explain why I hate her though. I really need to get to the sexual harassment.

Ivywood sexually assaulted me on the 13th of October, 2019. I was coming up the stairs and she asked to see my hair. I thought she meant head hair. She proceeded to pull down my underwear and pull up my dress. It was a really creepy and horrible sexual assault that took several days to recover from. She wanted to converse about genital hair and thought it appropriate to casually, rapidly remove my clothing when I came up the stairs. Ivywood used to brag about sexually assaulting her husband while he was sleeping. Ivywood used to pat Bunny's chest, as though she was playing the drums, without Bunny's consent or initiation of any kind. When I discussed these matters with LingLing on the phone, LingLing informed me that Ivywood used to put her hands on her sometimes without consent, but LingLing did not specify how. One time when Ivywood and I were sitting with a customer who sexually assaulted me, I got upset. Ivywood put her hand on my arm and told me to “let it go,” because she thought the best way to deal with such a customer was to walk away from and ignore him. Ivywood and Aspen were quite chummy at work, to the extent that Ivywood considered having Aspen do her taxes. After Ivywood sexually assaulted me at the top of the stairs aggressively, rapidly, and without provocation, Aspen thought my reserved reaction was very strange, and suspiciously asked me if I had ever worked at a fully nude club before. Aspen was confused as to why I had no interest in looking at my coworker's genitals or discussing my genitals with my coworkers. In fact, I have worked at many fully nude clubs, ones in which dancers do not harass one another in a physical manner, or spend extensive amounts of time in the dressing room socializing together, clubs in which dancers do not sexually assault one another. Mouse's Ear is disgusting in a variety of ways, as discussed in many previous entries. As mentioned, LingLing spilled the beans that I fucking hate Ivywood, and she included my complaints of Ivywood's sexual assault and sexual harassment. After LingLing told, Ivywood approached me unprovoked, tapped a one dollar bill against my nipple, and asked,

“Is that ok?”

She asked it in a calm manner, as though she thought she was respecting consent, being sensual, or otherwise doing something that was appropriate in the workplace or elsewhere. It never fucking was appropriate in the workplace or elsewhere. She is loathsome and disgusting. I hope the bitch dies. The only reason why I didn't vocalize my hatred for Ivywood openly was because she was friendly with the Brownings, great friends with Raven, respected by almost all coworkers, and called A Good Woman by coworkers. She is loathsome and gross. Hatred is good and hatred is right. I want my readers to always understand that hatred for people like Ivywood is appropriate and acceptable, and that toxic positivity is perpetuated by disgusting pieces of shit. Let your hate burn, burn, burn like a sage bundle to cleanse your soul of agony and trauma. If anyone tells you differently, burn them too. Perhaps anti-vaxx Ivywood gets COVID and her lungs burn until she dies.