SOLD OUT!!!

That's right, both showings of Risque Business sold out before curtain. Hells to the yeah, the ta-ta's are funded. (did I mention this was a breast cancer benefit?)

If you're in Asheville, NC...

Event: RISQUE BUSINESS: A burlesque comedy extravaganza!
"Comedy never looked so good"
What: Fundraiser
Host: Bombs Away Cabaret
Start Time: Saturday, May 23 at 9:00pm
End Time: Sunday, May 24 at 1:00am
Where: Asheville Arts Center; 308 Merrimon Avenue



Come enjoy the product of the world's greatest architecture (also known as ta-ta's) coupled with comedy and brain power; written and produced by the very excellent Meg Eason, who has graciously allowed me to take part in her brain-child.

Laws of Performing Arts

oh, the ways in which I can procrastinate:

#1) Thou must be comfortable with looking like an idiot.

#2) Thou must have a thick skin; you weak, parasitic fugly fatass.

#3) Thou must adhere to your own standards. It is impossible not to compare yourself with your peers, but try to do so without getting emotionally involved; by the way, also usually impossible. Are you satisfied with your progress over the past year when compared to your skill set one year ago? In what areas can you afford to remove some energy to give to others?
**note to myself: Can I afford to put more energy into reawakening my classical training? (yes, if I give up ½ of my Friends watching time) What keeps me from doing so? (Fear of sucking!!) What time is class tomorrow night? (7:30-9:00, ok?!)

#4) Thou must consider fear, pain, hardship, and triumph to be ordinary passing sensations. They are not the point, but their intensity makes them addictive. Especially for personalities attracted to the performing arts.

#5) Thou must not rely on the compliments of others as a scale of your ability. How many “polite” compliments have you given out? How many genuine compliments have you withheld? Enjoy and appreciate other’s appreciation, then see #3.

#6) Thou must never stop training. Thou must never stop training. Thou must never stop training.

#7) Thou must learn to rest and work in seasons. If you exhaust yourself too hard and too often, it’s all over real, real soon.

#8) Thou shalt not be a douche about accepting criticism. Especially when you are presenting a work in progress for the purposes of obtaining criticism. Never justify yourself when receiving a critique. If they didn't "get it," it's not their fault, it's yours. And, that's ok. You know how you hate it when people explain why their jokes are funny? The decent thing to do is listen and remember other’s notes (see #2), then make necessary changes when they are necessary (see #3).

#9) Thou shalt RESPECT THE TECHIES. Introduce yourself to the lighting designers, the sound guy, the stage manager (duh…NEVER piss off the stage manager), the property master, the hospitality people, the costumers, the merch guy…your job becomes either really uncomfortable or obsolete in their absence. Do not treat them as serfs there for your benefit alone. This is assholery, even if you are Diana Ross. I’ll bet even Diana Ross is lovely to the techies.***

Now I know these lists usually go from 10 to 1, for the purposes of climax, but #1 up there really needs to remain #1.

The #10 slot is open to suggestions. Please leave yours in the comments, it would make me really really happy.

***addendum...obviously, this comment is a compliment to the Goddess that is Diana Ross. Anyone who thinks otherwise is obviously living according to rule #1. I only wrote this as a testament to my regard for Diana Ross, who is one of my alltime favorite personalities.

God, please save me from your followers.

While I realize

that a more than healthy percentage of the people who read this reside on the right-hand coast, if you are on the left-hand coast and near the gay, gay city:


Booyah.

A Post of Things and Nothing.

Good morning, world. I have the greatest cup of coffee ever in my possession. And I woke feeling monstrously generous, so here is how it's done:

One large European stove -top espresso maker and a lot of cafe espresso. Illy's is good (duh) but if you're poor Cafe Nero Medaglia D'oro is the bomb diggedy too. Make according to directions. When it makes a sound like it's pissed off, it's done, don't burn it. Heat some water on the stovetop while you're waiting.

Now most people will tell you to add a shot of espresso to 8oz. of warm water. What you must do instead is fill an excellent coffee cup (that is very important) at least half way with the black stuff, then top it off with some water. A little bit of sugar, that means less than a heaping spoonful, and whole milk enough to change the color by a degree or two. You will want to kiss me every day for bringing such daily joy into your life. I myself would like to thank Italy, and Mary Anne for being able to stomach only tiny amounts of espresso so leaving the rest for me.

Well, that was a whole lot of talking about coffee.

Soon I'll start traveling, and I've been preparing for this by systematically never leaving my apartment unless I need food or training. This time next week I'll be packing to fly up to Seattle to see my mind numbingly hot man, and to attend a lecture, then fly back for 24 hours to present my aerial solo (cue terror now) in the Sunday Works in Progress show (oh look at that, more terror) then leaving the next evening for my month + immersion in Places I Used to Live.

Now that I think about it I don't know anyone who has left their lives for at least a month to go to where home used to be. I know why, too- it's fucking stressful. Mostly because I want to return victorious, but when your definition of victory falls somewhere along the lines of crazy to your parents...well...so much for that.

Speaking of which, I did audition for Le Reve on Sunday, whoo-hoo. I didn't survive the first cut as I am not strong enough at this time. But I did amaze myself by climbing a rope with no feet. They could have told me I was too fat and ugly to be in their show after that, and I still would have gone home satisfied.
Ok that's probably not true, but I was pretty happy with that anyways.

Things I will not miss about San Francisco part 45:
Fucktards getting out of the bars at 2:30 and waking me up by screaming repeatedly, for no conceivable reason, in the middle of the residential street. Seriously just standing out there screaming. Wtf?!

Wine, Wine, Whine

Happy Beltaine to all!

I woke up feeling like I had permission. I also woke up seeing two tiny birds copulating outside of my window. When I was 19 I woke up this morning to thunder. When I was 20 I woke up to Christy. Somewhere in the space of 21-23 I would go into the woods with my sisters. Today I find myself in my apartment watching little birds flutter around each other, so I choose to make myself happy.

Yesterday I joined some of my Vau de Vire wenches in a ploy to obtain more corporate $ponsorship at the opening of a winery. It was an unpaid gig, it took all day, and I would rather have done that than any of my paying jobs online. When my set was done I didn't even want to stop. It is time to exit the "working for money world." That said, I have absolutely no idea what to do next.

At any rate, I finally have a corporate-friendly character:



Photo generously donated by Gene X Hwang/Orange Photography.
Generously and amazingly photoshopped to its present state of awesome by Max Cooper. Yes, you are the fucking man.

I was also monstrously pleased to run into the very lovable Juan from Teatro Zinzanni, a friend of the Nekyia's, who obliged me with some impromptu salsa in spite of the fact that I'd had a healthy dose of my invented cabernet/petite verdot (understanding of course I invented nothing).

I met a nice guy who gave me chocolate and cayenne pepper which is a Good Thing, and coaxed the Shred into helping me adios the rest of some (comparitively piss poor) wine at my place to cap off the excellence.



The moral of the story is that, against all the odds, life is more fun when I leave my apartment.

**Also, five bucks to whoever gets the reference in the title. Although you'd have no way of proving you didn't google it, so I guess I win.