Update!

First, thank you so much everyone for the lovely birthday wishes. I have awesome friends and people wrote some really nice things and I got some great presents. I was touched, that myspace birthday feature is the shiz. And I blissfully forgot how old I was until Drew reminded me. No worries though. Once he comes to I’m sure he’ll promise never to mention it again.

Second, I’m drained.

I forgot that the last time I performed a full set with a band I did not have a full time day job. Plus it’s the busiest time of the year for the store which means the phones are ringing off the hook and I’m racing around shouting things like, “Oh my God, is it possible that we’re out of white satin corsets? It can’t be!!!” and “Can we overnight the last Madame Monastery costume to Idaho??”

And I don’t even work on the floor. Thank God because I’d kill someone for sure. Today a woman came in, pushed her way through the melee and stated in a French accent, “I want to be surrealism.” If I’d had a weapon in my hand she’d be dead right now. Luckily the kids who actually deal with the customers sort of shoved me gently and led her away before I stopped sputtering “Unspeakable! Unspeakable!” like Mia Farrow in Rosemary’s Baby.

So yeah, grown women are tearing the place apart to get their sexy costumes together. Every costume is X + Whore = Slutty X. As in Indian Maiden + Whore = Slutty Indian Maiden. This year everyone wants to be a pirate or Marie Antoinette. You know, if pirates and deposed French royalty wore teeny minis and fishnet stockings. Pretty much everything needs a push-up bra and ruffle panties and a garter belt. If you walk in there asking to be a Hassidic wife you’re going to walk out with a blonde wig, a g-string and a rhinestone handled riding crop.

So that’s entertaining, but the roiling humanity of it all is killing me.

Then there are rehearsals, which come after long days of fashion mayhem and cut into time allotted towards much needed beauty rest. Gini lives in MN so we’ve had to jam them all in at once. And there are our own costumes and guest stars to organize. And dealing with the club to make sure that my high fashion co-workers along with the Queen Mother Ms. Pat are taken care of in the style they are accustomed, and that we have the gear we need and that the lighting guy can make it and t-shirts made and blah, blah, blah… And don’t even get me started on the guest list, that alone could drive a sane person to madness. I have it on a google doc and I just rearrange and stare at it and it never becomes manageable. Thank God my mom’s not coming bc she’d have to be on the reduced list.

But it’s going to be a lot of sloppy fun and I just wanted to post an update before I plunge into the last few days of overtime bc I don’t know if I’ll get a moment again.

For everyone who’s asking – we’re on at 11:30. MF is notorious for its long lines so get there early. There’s an open vodka bar from 10-11 pm so that should be incentive. Plus I hear the opening band the Stalkers are great. I took a look at the club today and it’s cool and has a lot of rooms to wander in and out of and the staff actually seems cheerful and friendly. The party pushes for costumes, if you don’t want to do that just don’t go looking like a total slob and you should be able to get in with a minimum of hassle. After the bands it turns into more of a rock dance party and then they get tighter about the fashion.

Oh, and I just noticed my good friend RACHAEL wrote a blog some time ago about her experiences with CSFH that I thought was kind of cute: SUPERFREE. Her blogs are usually pretty funny but because she’s not on myspace I forget to read them sometimes.

All right, I think that’s it. Going to bed now so I can work an extra day this week in order to ensure that the good women (and some ahem…men) are cinched in and pulled up and teased properly for All Hallow’s Eve. Thank God the accountant cancelled out on the early meeting Pat wanted to have tomorrow. Because nothing says good times like beginning an extra day of work with a long drawn out discussion about taxes. Luckily she pushed it back to another early Saturday morning. Sigh…

See you on Wednesday. If not then, see you at the bar.

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