I Showed Mine

Cat Vader finds your lack of faith disturbing...

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I'm currently experiencing Deja-vu. As I write these words, I can hear the pings of dripping water coming from the kitchen. Almost a year to the day, the powers that be, have decided that the ceiling in my kitchen shall pour forth water, again. This time around the roommate and I are amazingly calm about this, as we dealt with this before.

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The show went well. Except for an unexpected wardrobe malfunction, I made it to the stage for my performance, and did all right. Making break-away clothing is a very demanding task, one I hope I won't have to do for a while. Especially when one must sew themselves into the outfit, due to the tightness of the shorts, and the fact you are wearing a box attached to a coat hanger around your waist, that said shorts must go over.

I prepped three needles with thread, two of which broke just before I had to go on. Though the shorts wear almost falling off, people did not seem to notice.

We had a modest gathering of 200 people there, which is above average for our attendance, though not the amount of people I was expecting. Winter weather is mostly to blame.

I watched the video of my performance. I look nervous as hell.

It was so bizarre. Being on stage like that. I would say that I "blacked out" up there. But not really totally gone. The thought process was strange to me. I couldn't even really see the audience. I heard the music, I did my routine. Everything was in slow motion, yet went by so fast... Then the box dropped, and the roar of the audience...

oh.

I'm glad I still have the ability to surprise myself.

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Of course a bunch of coworkers were there. Female coworkers, who have been gabbing quite a bit about the performance. Some have taken to calling me Mr. Burlesque. Its always good to stir up the rumor mill.

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Well, the pictures are up on my myspace page if peoples would like to see them. In the tagged pictures folder, or on the burlesque company's myspace, which can be found through mine.

I would write more, but now I have to go empty some buckets that are filling with water.

I'll Update Soon, I Promise

So I turned thirty. I feel proud to say I spent the last day of my twenties shopping for a thong and fake mustaches, having an eleven inch mustache of my own, preparing for the upcoming event on Saturday night. The event at which I will take my clothes off in front of hopefully 400 people, where I will be wearing said thong.

I'm leading a somewhat interesting life right now.

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But I'm terribly busy for once. I almost don't know how to process it all, how to get it all done... I have to write stuff down constantly now.

I'm amazed at myself, and proud. I usually take winter pretty hard, and having these things to do week after week feels wonderful, and energizing. Not at home every night, smoking as much weed as humanly possibly and drinking wine and immersed in video games.

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Its been a long day. I'll have details of the birthday soon, and extreme details of my first burlesque perfor-MANce.

Not that anyone is exactly living and dying on my less-than-frequent updates...

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P.S. Not sign of a girl anywhere in sight. This is a good thing.

Waiting on the Couch For You

I love who ever did this. Its inspired me in ways I cannot even begin to imagine. I really love how Elvis has the bigger halo. I think it should be entitled "Kings," because it reminds me of the story of my friend J. who had this amazing Elvis belt buckle, his portrait surrounded by an intricate floral design. One day he went to a tattoo artist that was working on J.'s tiger back piece (sadly unfinished to this day). The tattoo guy asked who was on J.'s belt buckle, and J. responded, "the king, baby." Then the tattoo guy grabbed his own belt buckle, the same floral design, only in the portrait was a picture of Jesus, and he said, "nah, baby, this is the King!"

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Today has been a long arduous day. Full of some good news, things I should be feeling very thankful for right now, but for some reason I'm kinda hung up on some lingering sadness. That being Seasonal Affective Disorderness.

I suppose my biggest announcement is that I'm currently up-ing my role in the burlesque troop, and crossing the boundary of Tech to Performer. Boy-lesque. Me in a thong. And that's about all. Yep.

Heh.

Its a cute routine, and I'm proud of it, though I haven't spent all that much time on the performance, as its been a long week of indulgences, and holiday shit.

I suppose I'm immensely nervous, considering I'll be in front of (hopefully) 300 - 400 people, with a one or two millimeter strip of cloth between them and "the gentlemen." I just need to get my stuff in order, and pray to god its not cold in the club.

And yes, I have a tad bit of the exhibitionist in me. I spent a portion of my youth naked at summer camp. Which sounds entirely inappropriate, but you have to understand, Naked Cabin Jumping was a very serious game among the staff.

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Long week. Practice two nights a week, plus work, and then the throngs of visitors who come back here and expect to get really drunk, and I must oblige.

My sleep has been restless, and not quality in the slightest. This makes me prone to bouts of weakness, the winter blahs, minor depression etc.

Feeling it very strongly at the moment.

But good things happened today.

I gots me a raise. And again, I wish I could focus on that good feeling instead of my pathetic emotional whimpering. But hey, that's me!

(I've been saying, "But hey, that's my life!" a lot lately. I don't know why.)

Slightly what I expected, a bit slightly under what I had hoped for, but I'll take it. She also offered a bit more six months from now, if I meet her demands of me, which are all not unreasonable, and if fact may learn me some new things.

And its much needed, as I still can't quite grasp the saving money thing. There is a hole in my bank account. The hole is me, and my unquenchable thirst for booze. And crab wantons. So freakin' good.

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But I think I may go for the quitting smoking thing in January.

I told myself that when I turned thirty, I would quit smoking, cuz its just no longer cool to smoke when you're over thirty.

Well, I turn thirty on Friday of this week, and quite frankly, with the b-day celebrations, performance, and Christmas and New Years, eh, realistically no. So by the end of January, I hope to be smoke free... well, cigarette free. Nah Fool!, not giving that up any time soon.

Another hapless in vain stab at supposedly trying to "get my shit together."

Whatever.

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Today marks an anniversary, of sorts. Maybe a smudge on some sort of record. But I have been officially single for an entire year now.

Perhaps I may be brooding a bit, again, prone to weakness, but ah, more of a year in review of all my horrible encounters I've had with women in the past year. Its been quite a few, though no 'serious' dating came out of it.

What a long, strange trip its been.

Heh.

Totally laughing at that line.

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Well, not going to dwell too deeply on that one.

And now I'm going to go read the w@tchmen. I'm riveted.