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Poem 6/30: Status as Poem

Details: Write a poem of any length incorporating every word from your latest Facebook status.

Latest status: Ah, the sound of sirens.

I wrote this with "My Favorite Things" in mind.

City Symphony, As Heard From My Window

Church bells and train horns

and car engines coughing

Dog barks and wind gusts

and drunk people laughing

Was that a gun shot,

Or a fire cracker?

These are a few of the city’s great things

When I’m lonely

When I’m stressed out

When my heart’s barren

I simply open my window and let the world in  

Ah, the sound of sirens!

(Source: heckyeahtumblrchallenges)

New burlesque show in April!

The fabulously spunky Binky Daze graciously included me with her newly formed Richmond burlesque troupe, The Burlesque Babies! And we have our debut show April 21st! The theme is “Cult Girls Gone Wild”: There’s four of us, and each of us has selected a chick from  “cult” film (think Tarantino and other similarly gaudy/violent movies).

Naturally, I chose a comicbook supervillianess.

 

I’ll be checking out Catwoman’s fashions through the ages to create my own version.

I’ll likely be taking heavy inspiration from the 60’s Adam West TV/movie versions, namely for ears and mask (gloves with claws would be nifty, too):

And of course, gotta have a whip…will be visiting the local adult toy store soon!

Also, considering getting either a bra or panties with the Batman emblem…thought it’d be a cute touch. I would go for pasties, but already have my kitty-spotted pair.

OH, and I gotta figure out a song! Something fun and sexy.

Possibly Paul Oakenfold/Brittney Murphy’s Faster Kill Pussycat…?

I’m here, I’m now, I’m ready
Holding on tight
Don’t give away the end,
The one thing that stays mine

Jimmy Eat World, “23”

When they played this song last night at Richmond’s The National, I almost lost it. Ties in to my own situation pretty well.

But srsly, if you ever get a chance to see J.E.W. in concert, DO IT. I cannot put into words how they affected me. But judging from the sea of faces around me, staring aptly at the stage with awe-filled faces and bodies moving without instruction, I wasn’t the only one feeling whatever it was I was feeling.

Last night’s vaudeville-ish variety show performance went pretty well, for the most part.
I was in the opening number for a simple dance routine to Hercules' “Gospel Truth” (togas fucking rock, even if I'm not a big Disney fan). Special thanks to Brit (and/or Jane) for letting me borrow her wig. <3 I might have to trade you something for this one…
I was also in a post-intermission performance, singing a capella with two other chicks to O Brother Where Art Thou’s "Go to Sleep You Little Baby." We messed up on some parts, but played it off smoothly. Plus, everyone was kinda sloshed, so couldn’t tell anyway.
Downside: Got my first glimpse at some uncool, diva-like behavior (that’s entertainment for ya). And the show was pretty disorganized and thrown together (example: performers didn’t know what the line-up was until a couple hours before the show).
Overall: glad I did it for sake of experience, but likely won’t repeat any time soon.
Post-show was…interesting. Still trying to recall everything that happened, but that may prove futile, since I was pretty intoxicated. Nothing bad happened, but again, not an experience I’m eager to repeat.
And don’t drink and text, kids. #srsly
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Last night’s vaudeville-ish variety show performance went pretty well, for the most part.

I was in the opening number for a simple dance routine to Hercules' “Gospel Truth” (togas fucking rock, even if I'm not a big Disney fan). Special thanks to Brit (and/or Jane) for letting me borrow her wig. <3 I might have to trade you something for this one…

I was also in a post-intermission performance, singing a capella with two other chicks to O Brother Where Art Thou’s "Go to Sleep You Little Baby." We messed up on some parts, but played it off smoothly. Plus, everyone was kinda sloshed, so couldn’t tell anyway.

Downside: Got my first glimpse at some uncool, diva-like behavior (that’s entertainment for ya). And the show was pretty disorganized and thrown together (example: performers didn’t know what the line-up was until a couple hours before the show).

Overall: glad I did it for sake of experience, but likely won’t repeat any time soon.

Post-show was…interesting. Still trying to recall everything that happened, but that may prove futile, since I was pretty intoxicated. Nothing bad happened, but again, not an experience I’m eager to repeat.

And don’t drink and text, kids. #srsly

The Burlesque Recital

went incredibly well, and waaay too fast. I can only remember snippets, but the crowd’s roar is still tingling in my ears.

The group number, I barely remember, though I do recall it went well. No serious misfires or missteps.

My own routine went pretty smoothly, considering I messed up on a few parts; thankfully, I’m decent with improv. One part that got one of the loudest cheers from the whole night: when I took my black negligee off, I meant to kick it out of the way; instead, it flew upwards and draped itself across a low-hanging beam. I had no idea about this until afterwards, though everyone apparently thought it was part of the act. And I was the only one to pull someone up on stage! You’re so welcome, Chris. <3

I really wish I had more photographic evidence to show off, but since the performance was at a fetish club, there’s a strict no photography rule (doctors and lawyers and big-shots come in; don’t wanna hurt their reps). BUT here’s a couple of shots I got in at my place and Blair’s:

 

(Above) I have a new-found appreciation for superheroines, since it’s still difficult for me to dress in all of this in under 5 minutes. Taking it off, on the other hand…

(Above) Pre-show hair and makeup for the group routine.

(Above) Kimberly Kosmo (my bff, Blair) and Kitti Pryde, post-show adrenaline.

~~~

That evening did help me resolve some things. I want to stay in Richmond. I’ve talked to Chris and we agreed that we’re going to give the long-distance thing a shot while he’s off in Atlanta for a couple of years to attend grad school at S.C.A.D. He told me that while he really wants me to go with him, he took one look at my face while performing and could tell that I found something that I need to pursue. He actually went up to my teacher (the lovely Deanna Danger, check her out on YouTube) and thanked her for helping me find my niche. He says he hasn’t seen me so happy in a long while.

And he could be right. I’m finding so much in Richmond that I want to explore. I feel so much more confidant and ready to try new things. I want to move out on my own in a couple of months, and plunge deeper into the world of burlesque, vaudeville and even hula hoop dancing (yes, there is a hula hoop dancing troupe—they use fire rings, striptease and everything— that’s going to be my next class, actually). And I accepted the offer from the Dainty Dolls (check a couple of prior entries for the email I posted) to sing with them in a Vaudeville-ish show at the end of this month.

So, yeah, I’m a little concerned about what this might mean for Chris and myself down the line. But the future holds no guarantees. That’s the beautiful and horrid thing about it. But there are always options, there are always doors for those who are willing and ready to put their hands on the knobs and turn.

I am willing. I am ready.

Word Vomit (Warning: this can get deep)

When I don’t know what else to do, when I’m tired of a situation running around in my head, I turn to music. I’ll usually listen to something that directly channels my mood, just to hear someone else lament. That way, not so alone, and it’s like I’ve got a soundtrack going on.

Lately, there’s these two songs: “Cut,” by Jimmy Eat World, and “Hands Open,” by Snow Patrol— they really get to me. They get under me, my skin, because they describe my “situation” pretty well. They just make so much sense.

Unlike me, I imagine. Ok, I’ll explain.

I’ve been with my boyfriend for almost three years. At least half of this relationship has been spent in different parts of Virginia, roughly two hours apart. We meet up almost every Monday in a town that’s in-between our respective cities. We try to alternate and visit one another’s house at least one weekend a month. It’s certainly tolerable.

But Chris is going to grad school at Atlanta’s Savannah College of Art & Design (SCAD), sometime during the summer/spring of this year. Initially, I was all for going with him. I was feeling pretty stuck in my life, so I got another job in addition to the one I already had, and started saving up. But then, I graduated. I got a different job that allowed me to quit my dead-end ones. I made new friends in an awesome burlesque class. I realized that I no longer needed that escape. If anything, I feel like there’s still plenty left for me here, in Richmond…

So. As it stands, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I’ve done the out-of-state long distance thing, and I’ve got to say, I am not eager in the least to try it again. It just hurts too much. A cell phone is a poor surrogate boyfriend.

I’m only sure of two things:

  1. I love him, but
  2. Our relationship will not survive unless we’re both content with where we are (emotionally, mentally, physically, etc.).

I’m not going to Atlanta unless I can find more of a reason than him. I’m terrified that I’ll get there, and be miserable, and I’ll end up resenting him, then game over. And a plain, simple fact: love is not always enough to keep two people together. Don’t let the romantics tell ya otherwise. Our lives involve each other, but we are not each other’s lives. If that makes sense.

This is what has been on my mind, in my earphones.

I have to make a decision soon.

I’m just so fucking scared of the “what if’s.”

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