Friday, June 7, 2013

Show Time

Ooh La La.

Ever wake up in the morning tired, puffy-faced and rough around the edges knowing that in eight hours you were going to have to conjure full showgirl to a crowded house?  Ever look in the mirror and think you looked just about as far from showgirl as is humanly possible?  No? Well, it goes something like this:

Ugh.  Swollen feet.  Distressing hair.  Cramping leg.  Bloated. Crawl to shower.  Make coffee.  Start building giant pile of teeny tiny articles of clothing.  Include odd arts and crafts bits, ribbon, feathers, paint as directed.  Do not weigh yourself or inspect yourself in front of the mirror in an attempt to not destroy self esteem or cause distress.  Try to touch my toes.  Fail.  More coffee.  These tights have a hole in the toe.  When was the call time? More coffee.  Must.  find.  Shoes.  Ignore both the part of my brain questioning why I am doing this and whether or not I will pull it off and the part that is telling me how important this is and how badly I want to do well.  Manage to touch toes.  Now tape them.  Why did I invite people?  Maybe I should run through it just one more time.... 

 At times I find there is some great distance between the realities of  life and the glare of the footlights.  At these times you have only one choice; sell it.


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