I came into the world an actor, who got funny enough to turn into a comedian, who got physical enough to become a burlesquer, until burlesque discovered I could talk and turned me into an emcee.

I gave up the cruel world of stand-up for the bedazzles and $50/number of burlesque, until one fateful night and a "win one for the gipper" speech that turned my tides and let me to take a vow to do 365 stand up sets in 365 days.

Will I be lured back into the world of fans and feathers, or will I stay with drink minimums and Comedy Central Specials? Only time will tell.

Friday, March 25, 2011

Woah, Black Bettie

Wednesdays for me mean one thing. Ok, two things. Trying to wiggle in a hump day reference into all my texts and emails, and Spanking the Lower East Side at Nurse Bettie, hosted by my partner in crime, Honi Harlow (www.honiharlow.com). Though burlesque is it's bread and butter, It is no rare sight for a chanteuse (Shelly the Singing Siren and Broadway Brassy, to name a few) to make an appearance. I, myself, have done a ditty or two on that stage, so, knowing that the rest of my open mic part of the evening was dedicated to other matters, I asked Honi if I could do a number at the show with my ukulele so as not to fall behind schedule on my quest for world domination.

Performing in a bar is the fastest way I know to learn the importance of concision. When people have imbibed and are encouraged to keep imbibing, you only have so many words to which they are willing to listen before their what-to-pay-attention-to scale tips toward their drink in hand or the drunk girl falling off a barstool who looks more than willing to make out with you with fully bar-inappropriate tongue and possibly throw up in a cab on your trek back to your apartment in Astoria where you live with your craigslist roommate who uses your shampoo and thinks you don't notice. I had planned on doing a couple of bits, maybe three minutes or so, before delving into the song, but 90 seconds in, I knew it was time to jam or be jammed. I was unsure about the songs' reception among the drunkards, but was smilingly surprised to be asked by the crowd to return to the stage for a second number, which I did not do, for the host had things to deal with other than changing the up, and I don't blame her. Burlesquers can be pissy when you mess with their time frames.

So all in all, a success, I would say. Not in the boys club, but you can never have too much practice doing these things, and lord knows your audiences only get slightly more sober at the top. Even Eddie Izzard gets hecklers. Ugh. Don't even get me started about drunk people in Europe.

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