Oi, but if you heard that press conference sound bite, you'd know there's plenty of crying in Sentinel land. Gah--it's a sickness.
So, lemme see, where was I? Something about the suckage of last weekend? So much so that I didn't even bother trying to make up a movie quote for it? Well, let's start with I'm still tired, and not wanting to do this when I could be, oh, I don't know, SLEEPING! or something, which is apparently something I'm just not prepared to do on the cellular level or something. The only piss off to reading online porn til the wee hours is that this is just like X-Files, but without Debra Fran Baker and the mighty Fox Mulder eating disorder, the pounds aren't coming off like they did last time *LOL Too bad Jim and Blair like to cook so much...
Just interrupting to say I reread "My Best Friend's Wedding" and even though I'm a freak for saying it, damn! I forget sometimes just how good I really really am :)
Dorian Gay did a great job last weekend, what with it being his first show and all, and having to deal with the neurosis of GBLUR, not to mention new "Guide" *LOL!! and all, and being in face for 17 hrs and drinking excessively and teaching Mitchell how to waltz, and having a roommate to look out for, and a host of other things as well. I think the whole Sandburg thing is giving his fifteen minutes an extended run, but we'll see what happens by the summer. On the other hand, just hanging out and watching Buffy with him on Friday was really really nice. Oh,and he got to have one of those old people moments when his sister advised she didn't know the theme from the Friendly Giant (aka Spike's 'eat your face' dance remix theme)
Mitchell's Get Lucky show went very well also, although we'll get to the high maintenance drag kings in a minute. Some good numbers, lots of folks trying to be in theme. I had to bartend which sucked for working the next morning, let me tell ya. On the other hand, decent tips for a Friday on the Outside. Back to the first hand and the suckage, though. Mitch asked Lee to do it, and Denise and Bruce decided Lee couldn't bartend anymore cos he skipped a shift and didn't call in. Okay, yeah, bad work ethic and all, but the main point here is we had a volunteer meeting and Denise was quite adamant that if there was an issue, she would speak with the volunteer to get it resolved. No one told Lee he wasn't working that night until *I* basically made Bruce talk to him. Then he tells Lee it's because it's not fair to the other volunteers cos he only works weekends. Wha-fuck?? Hello, some of us have jobs during the week, not to mention the fact that frankly, we're just better bartenders. And what does that say about Denise, who's doing the scheduling??? she only works weekends, quite a few actually. I was getting bent over pretty badly myself about the schedule and all, but pulled one last tattered martyr card out of my bitch Tarot deck ("doesn't matter if they rearrange the beer so the more popular brands are on the top shelf since I don't get scheduled anymore, right?") and I work next Saturday, bartending in the lounge. (on a lighter note, got a couple of complaints that it's just "wrong" that I'm on the dance side and I need to be in the lounge)
Oh, and Dave, don't put Kim's name on the cash sheet next time--contrary to popular belief and my own words, all fat women don't really look the same.
So, brunch (no, I haven't forgotten about the high maintenance dykes, I'll be back to them shortly) Not only did we lose money (if Kim had shown up we would have made seven bucks *LOL) but found out that our office was broken into, and the Oscar money that was in our lock box was stolen--they jimmied the hinges right off the thing, then screwed them back in so that we didn't even notice right away. I have my own opinion on who did it, and figure we won't have to worry about it much going forward, but fuck, that was something like 7 mos of phone lines in that box, and it's not like we're made of money.
Brunch was fun even if nobody was there, and Thomas was amazing. Anastasia did a Sandburg number that made me laugh, not just cos it was a him and I thing, but because somehow we've managed to invest a little Sentinel lurve into the whole freakin' community. You can announce "Blair Sandburg's a bottom" at any show now and pretty much guarantee a response beyond Dor's whimpering "no....." *LOL But you really need to see Beach Baby Anne!
Okay, back to drag kings. Holy crap. They really think they are all that and a bag of crisps!! Well, here's the rules, you stupid neurotic women: Yeah, I know you're new and nervous. Know what? I've been there, and I hear that. However, that does not give you carte blanche to be back at the protocol table every ten seconds asking if there's a show order yet, especially when I've told you not only what time the show order will be done, but also that I will personally let you know when the show order is done (I mean, I'm trying here, cos some of em hair up great, and look like something I might have fucked back in the day when sex was not something nasty). Bottom line, kids--not only is it now part of a drinking game (take one sip every time some newbie asks if the show order is done), but you can guarantee that I'm going to go out of my way to make sure you're first if you don't lay off!! Oh, and then of course there's the whole "can I be in the middle, can I be nearer to the end, can you put me here, I have to change fifty times, my lover's doing back up for me and she's not here yet, blah blah crap shpling" stuff. If you were at an out of town function and came breezing in all new and not in a dress and pulling rank like that, they'd kick your ass. What makes you think I--Empress twice, remember?--will put up with it. Remember, if you ask if you can go last cos you think you're something, you're going to go first. Frankly, you've got to earn your place in the drag heirarchy, and just spirit gumming some pubic hair to your chin is not going to get you there. This is the selfish bit. Yeah, I don't do this shit much anymore, but know what, I did it for eighteen years, and frankly, you can call me when you've done more than dry hump your girlfriend once on stage this year and we'll talk about how much leverage you have for shows, kay? Final thought. I don't care who you are, how well you bind, how hot and real and great you look as a boy, I don't care if you know your words. I don't care if you've been rehearsing for a year in the mirror. I don't even care if you buy me a lifetime's worth of Blanches. The fact of the matter is that the Court/drag/gay bar system is completely, totally sexist, and you will always, ALWAYS be second best to the man in the dress. It's a fact, you'll never work your way around it, so just suck it up, get over it, enjoy what you do have, and quit trying to get more than your due, or act like you're anything more than you are.
Okay, rant over. Whew, that was a boil that needed lancing :)
It's ten to nine, and I guess I oughta think about trying to get this stuff finished and uploaded.