Coqette: “Dr. Sketchy’s is Making Me Effin’ Crazy”

2 12 2008

So tonight, in case you are somehow unaware, I am the artist’s model for Dr. Sketchy. (Details about the event are in the Upcoming Performances tab up top, or just one post below this one on the main page.) I’m modeling solo, because the organizer is trial-running a night-time version (usually it’s Sunday afternoons), and she was worried about the attendance, yadda yadda, only one model in case there’s no $.

I am not worried about the $. Spoiler alert: dancers generally don’t get paid very well. I am not even worried about sitting still for that long; I’m exhausted today, so if anything, I may end up taking a 20-minute nap on stage and start drooling. Sexass.

What I am worried about is going up there alone. Not because I don’t like being on stage by myself – I totally, totally like it, probably in a Secretly Very Revealing About Her Psyche way – but because I don’t like that I can’t move. If I can’t move, I can’t see how my jokes are going over with the entire crowd. I can’t make eye contact and charm people. I can’t say something and gradually smile while I say it, which is up there with, “nodding your head while talking,” in the list of ways to get people to subconsciously like you.

You’re reading this going, “Damn, Coquette tries too hard.” Maybe I do. But I don’t think so, because if you’re saying it, you probably already like me, and if you like me, then it’s probably because I’ve already charmed the hell out of you. Which is what I’m supposed to do – I’m a self-promoting performer. And it’s also what I’m supposed to do because, aside from the actual sketching, I sort of *am* the event…or more accurately, I’m the Key Prop. And if the Key Prop is a wet blanket, then it’s going to be a loooong 2.5 hours.

This was going to be the usual, “Hey! Event! Tonight!” excitement building post, and I would love to do that. But my mother is in town tonight (and will be at Dr. Sketchy’s — everyone come out and say hi to my mom! …yeah, still sounds weird), and today has been kind of awful on all fronts. Pretty much the last thing I feel capable of doing is being sexy and wonderful in front of strangers, but that would be why they call it acting.

So if you read this blog and you come out tonight (which you should – there will be Christmas music, because I’m unashamedly That Girl), think of yourself as getting the back-stage pass into my brain. And please feel free to come say hi and tell me if I’m faking it well or not. 🙂

Coquette: “Good for you!”

19 07 2008

I am sad to report that working for Big Moves is not my full-time job.  No, instead I work in an office, where I do a variety of office-type things, like doing boring tasks, fending off telemarketers, sitting in meetings…basically it’s a daily struggle not to answer my phone, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

So!  I was sitting in one of my meetings the other day, making small talk with one of our newer employees before the official start, and she mentioned that I looked kind of exhausted.  Not like, sick-exhausted, just really tired and worn out.  I completely agreed with her, by the way.  “Oh man, no kidding!  Rehearsals have started up for my dance troupe, and they’re totally kicking my butt.”  I mean, even when exhausted and half-asleep at work, I’m still completely ready to talk about Big Moves at any time.  (Side note: I may have accidentally invited my boss to our next show, Hot Buffet, during our bi-weekly meeting.  Maybe.  I should probably warn her about the nudity, yeah?)

Anyway, back to the new hire.  Up until this point, my interractions with her had been polite, professional, enjoyable overall.  But then, OH but then:
“Oh, you dance?”
“Well, uh, yeah.  It’s an all-size dance troupe, we do all different styles of dance, we’re really pretty good.”
“Oh, well yeah, no, I mean, of course, that sounds like fun…And I imagine that there’s a lot of good exercise…Right, right, I mean, good for you!

I didn’t even know what to do or say to that.  It just washed right over me, this nervous, upper-middle-class lady-chatter that managed to throw out insults without even forming a complete sentence.  And then our meeting started and I tried to burninate her with my eyes.  Good for me?  Good for me? What does that even mean?!  Yes, good for me for joining a talented group of women, good for me for being my own personal rock star; but I didn’t join Big Moves as a weight loss system, just like I don’t read Dickens to learn the finer points of punctuation and grammar.  If one follows the other, fine, but I’m just here to shake my booty.

I’ve since shared this story with a few people, one of whom told me about how when she lost ten pounds last month, someone complimented her for being so skinny.  Her response was, “um, I have diabetes.”  His answer: “Well, keep it up!”

So it’s not just me then!  …That doesn’t make me feel any better.