u s e y o u r h a n d s

This is a feeling I haven’t had since high school community theatre: the post-show letdown. And this case is a pretty tough one.

I learned a lot during the rehearsals, backstage, and most definitely, onstage. I’m not sure if I’m done learning yet.

I am still completely perplexed as to why I decided to do the burlesque show. Certainly, I’ve been interested in the artform for some time, but from the audience, not onstage. So, what was it? I’m highly insecure about my physical appearance. I don’t even wear skirts above the knee.

I think I was suckered onstage by the performers’ moxie. All types of bodies, all kinds of tattoos, all sharing the same crazy chutzpah. But they weren’t alone. The audiences, man, the audiences. All the burlesque audiences I’ve seen have been so supportive, so kind.

Once I got into the show and attended my first rehearsal, I relaxed a lot. The artistic director and other performers offered great tips that I integrated into the act. I was inspired by the other performances which showed so much moxie, talent, sexiness. And how can you not bond with someone when you’re both holding your breasts while pastie glue dries?

I feel so proud that I performed in front of 1,100 people. I feel good about my body, in clothes and without. And though I’m not “perfect” I’m pretty good nonetheless, even without corsets and fishnets.

Thanks to all the performers and crew I worked with during the show. And, of course, many, many thanks to Red and Gwen, the Sissy Butch Brothers themselves. Their project will preserve the history of burlesque while making a scene here in Chicago.

And I think I’ll keep performing. What’s a better excuse to by lace and glitter?

That’s how I’ve been feeling. And it’s weird.

Do most people have this moment, where they realize that they’re racking up frequent flier miles in life? Does it show on my face yet? Because my hands are looking older. Thanks, drywall. And dishes. And everything else.

I’m starting a new job on Monday. I’ll be working downtown like a real grownup. And I’ll wear grownup clothes. The days of flip-flops and pajamas at work are so over.

And, all this is going on while I’m engaged and shit. My chosen life partner is at home, actually, sleeping off a nasty ass cold in the next room. He is not perfect, of course. But he’s totally perfect for me. I’m pretty sure about him, and that’s as good as you can get without a crystal ball.

I feel good about it, though. Plus, I’m very very excited about the burlesque show. Besides from being crazily attractive, they’re all equisitely kind. I feel cute and talented amongst them. But not so cute as to stop practicing my act. That’ll be me up there with the fake money. Hot-cha.

Tomorrow is my last day of weekday freedom. It’s been nice. And I’ll fucking miss it. But I have fun “working-girl lunches and after-work drinks,” just like Rachael mentioned in my comments the other day. And that’s pretty good, too.

Come to the show. Tell me I’m fabulous.

What has driven me to update during my delicious stay-at-home time? The floor is wet and Jerome McDonald is boring the shit out of me. C’mon, Jer’! Put some energy in that voice. And NPR, between talking about AIDS in Africa and the war in Iraq, how do you possibly make time to suck at Millennium Park’s fat teat? Oh, you do manage to work it in!

Tavis Smiley!!!!!!

So, I’m at home during an unexpected two-week vacation. I’m about to start what promises to be a dream job at a downtown ad agency which will remain unnamed. I’m thrilled. I’ll be working at Michigan and Wacker, taking the train to work. Cue the opening credits to “Working Girl”.

But during my time at home, I’m revelling in the life of a housewife. This is awesome. I get to putter around all day, scraping paint, sweating, cleaning, cooking. Man, this is awesome. No, really, if someday I’m able to be a housewife, I’m down. This rocks. Plus, I get time to read and catch up on writing. And let’s not forget all the time spent in silence. Divine.

I’m practicing for the Sissy Butch Brothers Burlesque Show this weekend. My act is primed and I am practicing the whole makeup thing. I feel good about the show and am not particularly nervous about performing in front of 600 people. The mostly female crowd is wonderfully supportive, the show benefits a good cause, and I think I’ve put together a good act. I am not rail-thin, but I look good in fishnets. I could be worse off.

Wedding plans are progressing. We have found a reception site and I’ve scored some tacky silk flowers from eBay. Corsages and boutonnieres for all! It’s still weird for me to say “wedding.” We usually just refer to it as “the fete.” We went to a really good wedding this weekend, for our friend Leigh Knight. It was a darling, darling affair, original and very well-executed.

I have to go blow a bunch of cash on new school clothes. Nordstrom? Marshall Field’s?