I went to the mall Friday, and EVERYTHING WAS BURGUNDY. It’s apparently a whole thing for fall. I reject the trend. I’m rallying a network of support. Feel free to join our cause:
Or wear your stupid ankle-length, flannel, sleeveless, burgundy and black plaid, faux-boho/grunge dress all fall and look like a dumbass. I don’t care.
Facebook updated their mobile app at some point, and now the notifications sometimes say things like Jenny recently liked a photo you are tagged in. Sometimes it still just says Jenny liked a photo you are tagged in. I haven’t been able to discern the reason Facebook makes this distinction, but it means that when I open my notifications and quickly scan through, sometimes I think it says Jenny REALLY liked a photo you were tagged in, and before I can help myself I think, “Oh, that’s so nice! I wonder what made her really like that one? Like why did she like it more than the other one? Was she just liking the other one out of obligation, but this one she actually, genuinely likes? What’s wrong with the other picture? Do I look fat in it? The other picture must actually be humiliating in some way I didn’t see. I should delete it. OMG, what if all of my pictures are humiliating in some way I’m not seeing? I SHOULD DEFINITELY DELETE ALL MY PICTURES RIGHT NOW. Except the one Jenny really likes. That one’s probably OK.”
Dear Facebook, Please quit fucking with my self-esteem. It’s like really stressful for me.
I performed at an event this weekend. It was a circus-themed fundraiser for Phoenix Children’s Hospital. It went well, although I’m still learning the ins and outs of aerial performance and there are still some issues I’m not sure how to handle. For instance:
1. I can get through the 15 minute sets in the air, with a general amount of grace. I feel good about my tricks and poses, things are fairly smooth, and everyone is taking lots of pictures and seems to be enjoying the show. But when it’s time for me to come down, and I’ve literally got sweat dripping into my clown makeup, my heart rate is at 200, and I just need a glass of water and a towel, apparently I still need to take pictures with people and field compliments without looking like I’m going to pass out or throw up on anyone. This level of professionalism is something I need to work on.
2. What to do when drunk people insist on engaging with you while you’re performing.
I went with, “You’re going to need to step back now unless you want me to kick you in the face,” but I feel like there might have been a more graceful way to react.
3. I’m not sure I can do any gigs unless I have my husband assisting. So… I’m just going to go ahead and put that on my talent contract stipulations from now on. In addition to picking all the brown M&Ms out of the bowl in my dressing room, and leaving seven perfectly chilled Diet Cokes in the mini fridge (sure, you can substitute Diet Pepsi if Coke products aren’t available, IF YOU WANT TO GET FIRED), I need you to provide my husband with an all access pass so he can:
- Climb ladders when they look rickety and I don’t want to
- Hold both a glass of water and a glass of wine for me at all times so I can switch off when I feel like it
- Be in charge of the designated spray rosin and flipflop area
- Create and hang DO NOT TOUCH signs for us when we get paranoid someone will swing on the silks when they’re not in use
- Tell me I don’t look fat and I’m going to be awesome 12 times in the three minutes before I perform
I really can’t be expected to work without him. It’s just not optional.
Despite those struggles, the event seemed to go well, and afterward I was glad I did it. Beforehand I spent the three preceding days and nights asking myself why, WHY, do I get myself into things like this because I’m obviously too old and fat and ridiculous to be an aerial performer. Why can’t I just stay home like a normal person? What is wrong with me??? I’m a goddamn idiot, and I don’t know what’s good for me, that’s what’s wrong.
But that’s just “my process”. It’s an artist thing. It’s how I do my best work.