Here was the schedule for this past weekend:
-perform for Vau de Vire at Bohemian Carnival 9pm-2am
-ride home with Kristina, pack and prepare to leave for Denver 2am-4am
-leave for Denver, fly to Denver 4am-11:30am
-attempt to get to hotel 11:30am-1:00pm
-check in, walk around looking for IHOP, eat food, return to hotel 1pm-3pm
-prepare to leave for corporate gig 3pm-3:30pm
-go to corporate venue, dress, warm up, makeup, perform 4pm-10pm
-go to Clocktower Cabaret, dress, makeup, perform 10:30pm-1am
-try desperately to get back to hotel (cabbies in Denver SUCK) 1am-3am
-pack for flight home 3am-4am
-trundle off to airport, fly home 4am-10am
-come home and cry 10am-present
That is hardcore. There are very few things I will endure physical discomfort for and almost nothing I will endure hunger for. Thankfully, when you're onstage, nothing hurts, and nothing else matters. You could be dancing on a broken ankle and have a 103 degree fever and once you walk on stage, you don't feel shit. It wouldn't be the first time. Just ask Kristina, who worked all weekend in fishnets with a huge spider bite marring her perfect ass and giving her a fever. She couldn't even sit down properly (it ended up being a black widow bite).
Goddamn I love my job. I love the details...eyelash glue, fishnets, spirit gum, black eyeliner, hours upon hours of rehearsal. How everything comes together seamlessly at the last possible moment. The innovation that came at the inception of a new idea and the driving force that has let it survive and evolve for years into this. The muscles on the bodies of women, trained to the bone, magnetized to frames. To be in the presence of so much ability and force and desire that does not idle but takes action. These are the people I wish to devote my time to.
To think that at the founding of this blog I was praying for a 9-5. I would have taken it too, and it would have been great in its own way. But I know I can't die in peace without having known this first. Sometimes my to do list looks like a roster of things that will allow me to die in peace.
I'm nowhere near finished, although I have to say it's shorter than it was at age 7.
Rachel (7): you need to get up in the air on a hoop, covered in gold or silver paint, with silk.
Rachel (26): I'm working on it.
Rachel (7): work harder.
Rachel (26): ok.