This is how you know you should be the emcee of a burlesque show and not actually one of the performers.
I spent all last night trying to get ready for the 22nd, and all while also trying to kill whatever cold bug has taken my body hostage. Admittedly, not the best combo for trying to be sexy...or anything other then a lump for that matter. To start off with, I had spent so long trying to hand sew something jewels onto the garter belt, that I was damn near blind...and had to switch from the contacts to the glasses. Yes, very sexy-not!
Second, I lack a great sense of balance on my best day, so you mix in glasses and NyQuil, and really, it's lucky I am not typing this from the hospital while they are setting a broken leg.
I am sure you can see where this is going, but I will continue anyway.
I am so far behind for my class, that I should just take it again and try for that final performance, but I wont, so I am cramming. As of now, I still don't have the costume done, so I have not done a full walk through of the song. I have shimmied half assed around my bedroom trying to work out a routine, but have not committed to doing the whole number yet. So last night I thought it would be a great idea to do so. And as we all know, my great idea are often far from great!
It's late. The kids are in bed. LET'S DO THIS!
I get into the parts of the outfit that I have finished (although I still do not have pasties, and I had a bit of a panic attack about that at this same moment), put on the song (well, half of it as I still have to find some 50's type of song to play at the beginning) and do my best to try and be sexy and work on some moves.
Starts out ok. A little bump here. A little grind to the left. Sexy over the shoulder playful smile to the audience (or the mirror). Hey...look at me...all sexy and stuff...
AND THEN IT WAS ALL SHOT TO HELL.
Turned around, caught my foot on the side of the leg of the bed, loss my balance, hit the side of the dresser, fell to the ground, what ever was on the dress fell on top of me....and all I could do was lay there in a pile of clothes, dressed in a corset and laugh.
I was laughing so hard that I was crying, and if you would have seen it, you would have laughed as well.
I am fine. I have a large bruise to my body and an even larger one to my ego, but nothing broken and no black eyes.
Hopefully nothing like this will happen on the 22nd, but if it does....please make me a promise.
Promise me that you will laugh along with me, because if I can't be sexy, at least I can make you laugh and in the end, that is all I wanted!
I will laugh and applaud and scream. And probably cry.
ReplyDeleteAnd I will help you, we have plenty of time. ♥
PS - Not to sound like a broken record about you being too hard on yourself about this (and in general), but...
ReplyDeleteHaving never been a guest of your bedroom and given that my stalking of you is limited to here I can't speak with complete certainty. But I'm guessing said boudoir is NOT the roomiest of stages for a girl to work on choreography, NyQuil impaired or otherwise. So maybe it's less the girl and more the choice of venue. That said, I am SOOOOOO happy to see signs of you embracing something other than an all or nothing "If I don't do perfectly at something that is way outside my comfort zone and that I've ever done before then it means I'm a failure" stance.
Although ours is a love bounded only by reality, that little detail does keep me from cheering you on in person. But for what it's worth I'll be thinking of you, sending positive thoughts your way and I will most definitely be supporting you in spirit. And whatever happens the night before, come the morning of the 23rd I'll still be proud of you, still be your fan, and still think you're a truly brave, sexy and remarkable woman...for stepping outside your bubble and for so many other reasons I couldn't begin to detail here. So whether seduction, comedy or somewhere in between, have fun with it, do it for yourself, and own it like you've never been owned it before!