Prom

I promised myself that I wouldn't drink ANY booze before or during the Pride Prom, and it's a promise I managed to keep.

Alcohol certainly gets me out of my shell, however, so I spent most of the night hiding in our change room, which was the handicapped anteroom to the women's bathroom: well-lit, yes, but with small 45-degree mirrors on the ceiling and a constant bass-booming soundtrack (the doorway being next to the speakers). Young girls in formalwear filed past us as we unhappily revealed our most intimate secrets.

This change room was the only really awkward part of the night.

A SUPER nice crowd. Now I understand why adults call teenagers "cute," while I simultaneously understand why the teenagers hate it. Miss Drew was the expected high-energy professional, organizing the king/queen pageant at the last minute and delegating responsibilities to Noir and I. Noir, being the runner and makeup person, was wearing the most amazing belt of brushes I have ever seen.

The pageant was good natured. I'm not sure how these students knew each other -- one said most of them were from "The Hill," which might have meant "Forest Hill" -- but they certainly had their favourites in the contest. Drew sprung a Q&A session on them, perhaps to even out the fact that three of the contestants looked SO uber-polished. "Johnny Depp," quiet, shy, ingenious, won the King contest, and "Sexy Lexy" narrowly beat out "Cheryl Alyssa" as the queen.

Most amazing was the confidence of these people; when asked serious questions they had instant, self-assured responses, even though they had absolutely no time to prepare. I didn't have HALF that confidence in school. Heck, I STILL don't.

I did, however, find the whole situation a little nerve-wracking...but I almost ALWAYS find these things nerve-wracking, so that's no surprise. Having not learned my lesson, I once again attempted fledgeling crowd interaction, stumbling down the auditorium steps and making a beeline to the first person I saw in order to...what? Once I reached that person I realized I didn't know WHAT THE HECK I WAS DOING. So I did the first thing that came to mind, sort of a full-contact shimmy that I hope to God didn't come across as sexual.

BONUS FUN: It was up to me to get directions to the Country Hill Community Centre and I was the "lead car" in our two-car caravan. I was very proud of myself when we arrived in the parking lot, having made no false turns and hitting no pedestrians.

We marched into the centre, dragging our suitcases. Miss Drew was dressed in a sort of rainbow bikini and hooker heels. A middle-aged lady ran up to us and screamed "You're in the wrong place!" We laughed, thinking she was kidding, but then we looked around and saw all these REALLY young kids staring at us in shock and surprise.

We were at the wrong community centre. We had crashed a 14-year-old boy's birthday party.

Guelph Pride 2008!

Guelph Pride was, as always, a huge amount of friendly fun. I do miss the sunny atmosphere of the old "Pride Picnics," but it's nice to be able to drink and dance, and to not have to get up at 8am.

I put up some pictures on Flickr but -- as usual -- they're mostly of the dressing room:



Look at this gorgeous place! There were only three of us performing...and they gave us FOUR MIRRORS! Not to mention the treats and the smiles and the great DJ and the enormous amount of respect for everybody, and a truly stellar bartender.

But I couldn't drink too much because...I drove! My first extended late-night excursion, following Mapquest directions and discovering that my highbeams don't work. And driving in heels. A necessary experience!

Thanks, Guelph, for another wonderful Pride...I'm already looking forward to next year!

Cosmetic Breakthroughs for Sweaty People with Wrinkles

At its very center my life is a never-ending attempt to look as good as possible for as long a time as possible, meanwhile fighting to hold the effects of aging at bay.

Actually that's not my life at all, I'm only kidding, but it's a substantial part of my WEEKENDS. So here's what I've learned recently.

As I've said before I have really greasy skin, and this is a problem because I wear CoverFX cream-based makeup with a heavy coating of powder. Oils are constantly seeping through the foundation around my T-zone, spreading and puddling to such an extent that migrating waterfowl occasionally get trapped on my nose and die. A tragedy for everybody.

One method of controlling this "puddling" is to constantly apply powder to the affected areas. In the past I have used a large foundation brush, but this causes the now-oily cream foundation to smear off as well, resulting in gradually-worsening Picasso-face.

After getting equally bad results from a thin, stiff eyeshadow brush -- which smeared off the cream AND didn't blend the powder -- I tried out a Quo "All Over Shadow" brush. This is an extremely soft, puffy, rounded brush about the size of the nail on your middle finger, and it applies foundation with enough strength to make it stick, but not so much to scrape off the cream foundation or keep the powder from blending. Wonderful!

But none of this stops my second problem. After a few hours "in face," the jolly "smile lines" around my eyes become engraved into the cream foundation, giving me a decidedly un-jolly "Kabuki" look. Re-powdering makes the problem worse, and putting additional cream over the creases does nothing useful whatsoever.

Victoria Parks to the rescue! During our Paris adventure she recommended using a damp sponge to smooth out those lines. I finally tried it after coming home from the Guelph Pride party and...wow! Creases-be-gone! Get a wedge-shaped cosmetic sponge, put a bit of water on it, squeeze it out so it's almost dry, and then lightly wipe the creases away.

This might take some fine-tuning, since applying powder afterwards brings the creases back immediately. Back to the lab, Frankenmuffy...there must be a solution.

Coming Up!

I haven't just been sitting at home playing "Dwarf Fortress." No indeed, I've been planning all sorts of special events.

First off, hopefully I'll see some of you at "La Cage" tonight (Friday) at the Walper Hotel, starting at 6pm. I won't be performing, just playing the music for the performers themselves, but it's always a fun and professional event in support of Tri-Pride...come see!

On this coming Thursday (the 8th) come to Club Renaissance for the next installment of "Glamourspunk!" It's an extension of the regular Ren Glitter Nights, coordinated and hosted by Victoria Parks with some help from me. So far these shows have had some of the best local talent (and the best crowds I've ever seen) so you're probably missing out if you don't show up.

Then, on Saturday May 31st I'll be performing at Guelph's Pride Party and Dance. Last year they gave me my own hotel room...maybe this year they'll give me the entire hotel?

Other than that there are some SECRET plans: operations "Ooh-la-la" and "Maid of the Mist." I can't tell you more, but let's just say that the "Daily Muffy" will be back soon...maybe as early as next week! Stay tuned.

Pridetoberfest 2007, Plus Hiking, Plus a Bonus Cat!

I had four days off work during the long weekend, but somehow it only felt like six hours.

First: the lead-up to "Pridetoberfest," during which I prepped and worried and messed with my hair. Jodi (super-stylist) had revealed the secrets of hat-defeating hairdos, and I spent all week trying to replicate her instructions. I bought hairclips and practiced segmentation, I rigged up an extra bathroom mirror so I could see the back of my head, I experimented with gel and pomade and the fake-hair braids she'd made me...

Well, I certainly learned a lot about hair, but only enough to develop a style that I call "Ugly Squirrel's Nest Mess (with Braids)." And even after four days of fiddling I couldn't remove those evil stylist-elastics without losing hair. After all that worrying and experimenting I settled on two pigtails, wrapped them in dirndl scraps, and considered myself to be suitably German (but still "hat-able").

The actual "Ilsa on Ice" outfit worked BEAUTIFULLY. You can really jump around in an organza skirt if you're willing to grab it and flip it over your head. I probably only broke two toes in my new silver shoes, and the run in my fishnets appeared only thirty seconds into the night, a new record for me.

Click here for a few more pictures from the event, including shots of the fabulous B-Girlz (who were spunky, professional, and hilarious, as expected).

Early the next morning -- nursing a hangover and a set of hamburger-toes -- I went on a 5km hike to Spencer Gorge with Jon & Vanilla. The place was drenched with an impossible fog which made the experience even more magical...click here for the trip in pictures. Consider it a "Bus/Walk Tour" without the "bus."

(You can also find a new collector's photo of Zsa Zsa called "Zsa Zsa A-curl.")

I wimped out of Monday's Oktoberfest Parade, but I did enjoy a super-heated patio lunch with my mother. Breakfast and booze and easy chatter, always nice!

Now, suddenly, I'm back to work again. Did I do a Rip Van Winkle on this weekend or something? Where the heck did it GO? I want to do it all again!

Pridetoberfest II!

All my energy these days is devoted to preparing for "Pridetoberfest II!" You simply have to come: I'm DJ'ing again, along with the fabulous J.P. And I hope you're as thrilled as I am that the B-Girlz are signed up!

And when I say I'm "preparing" for it, I mean I'm working on the "no-hats" hairdo, getting the music together, and learning to iron organza without melting it (much). The outfit is finished and is still awaiting a name...when you see it, let me know if it should be called "Ilsa on Ice" or "Cinderellastein."

This Saturday, 7pm at the Karlsberghaus. Let's have FUN!

Vintage Muffy Part Two: Guelph Pride 2005

Aha, before I forget about this, here's something totally bizarre that I stumbled upon a few months ago:


Click here to see the entire set, which I like to call "Muffy with Child." During my first number, this little girl decided she simply HAD to dance with me, and she emulated my silly choreography from beginning to end (right down to the rocket-powered hands and -- as you can see -- my pigeon-toes). She was the unselfconscious star!

And check out the other photos by Vaneramos...he has quite an eye.

A Long Way, Baby?

It's perfectly legal for women to go topless here in Ontario, but for some reason I've never seen it done outside the Toronto Pride parade.

Every woman I've asked about this has replied that going topless would be more trouble than it's worth; there'd be so much staring, and so many negative comments, that the "freedom" of doing it would be worth less than just wearing a top.

Now here's a "Talk of the Town" section from The New Yorker, February 18, 1928:

The progress of the nicotinization of Women has been interesting to watch. Cigarette manufacturers have admitted openly that women smoke; the railroads have provided ladies' smoking-rooms on the more venturesome trains; and even the Old Lady from Dubuque has learned, through hearsay, that smoking occurs in both sexes. It strikes us that the only party not completely emancipated is Woman herself, for we have rarely seen a woman smoke on the street, the reason being--so our cigarette-borrowing lady companions advise us--that it attracts undue attention and the satisfaction isn't worth the embarrassment. To be exact, the only times women smoke in the street are on the sidewalk in front of playhouses during intermission, and the three or four steps they take getting into or out of a cab. We, who have supplied literally tens of thousands of cigarettes to ravenously beautiful smokers, will never be convinced of the reality of their fag-life until we see one of these ladies enjoying a brief siesta on a bench in Madison Square, non-chalantly smoking.

Incidentally, any lady desirous of learning to smoke in the street should know that the finest street in which to practice is the old half-abandoned mall right behind the Library, where a lady may pace and puff, in what travel literature might describe as Old World Splendor.

I'm surprised that women had problems smoking in the late '20s. I'm pretty sure that women were publically smoking by the mid-'30s, though there was probably still some stigma. Nowadays there doesn't seem to be any smoking stigma at all, other than the one that covers both genders.

I suppose that going topless is quite a bit different from smoking, in that it's something disapproved of even in men, and that for women it would be considered an outright sexual activity (which smoking probably wasn't, at least not overtly).

The Coolest Dog of Pride!

This year I'm giving the game away by immediately showing you the winner of "The Coolest Dog of Pride!" That's Brutus, and there never was a cooler dog. Not in 2007, anyway.

Click the picture to see the rest of the contestants, and a few other shots from Toronto Pride.



PS: For reasons that aren't very interesting my Toronto Pride Impressions appear below the "Moby Dick" post, even though they were posted after it. So scroll down a bit if you're curious.

Toronto Pride Impressions

On Seeking Attention: A few years back, Annie, Victoria and I would dress up in showy outfits during Toronto Pride and march up and down Church Street on Saturday night, which was an ego stroke. Hundreds of people would take our pictures, they'd stand around and point, and guys with video cameras would stand there tell us to shout things like "Happy Pride, Puerto Rico!"

But while part of me loves to wallow in attention like a dog loves rolling in roadkill, the other part believes that this craving for attention -- and achieving it in such an easy way -- is pandering to a part of my nature that should be controlled, not encouraged. It like eating too many sweets on Hallowe'en night. It seems cheap and desperate and fleeting. So I stopped going.

But taking part in Pride to promote Pridetoberfest? That's a different story!

On New Shoes: Since I'd be wearing my "sexy dirndle" outfit, I decided -- on a whim -- to try on the only pair of shoes I owned that would match it. Both shoes fell to pieces as soon as I put them on, they were ancient and the plastic was dried and cracked. They were like mummy-shoes.

I raced out to buy replacements. I wore the new shoes around the house on Friday night, trying to break them in. Making dinner in heels, doing the laundry in heels, cleaning the catbox in heels. They didn't hurt at all! They felt great!

Walking and standing on pavement is very different.

A Resolution: We arrived in Toronto at 9am and I decided to follow through with another of my recent resolutions: to not meticulously plan EVERYTHING. The thing I didn't plan this time was to double-check Jason & Craig's address. With only two hours to get ready, I wandered in the general vicinity of their apartment without actually finding it, maybe because I was on the wrong street. Payphones are a dying breed, they now cost fifty cents a call, and they don't give you any change back. My call to Jason gave me the right address and it only cost me a dollar.

On Human Relations: Flyers, flyers, flyers. It was very sunny and we were handing out flyers. Most people were very friendly and were happy to receive the flyers. Many were genuinely interested in the event. Other people smiled and shook their heads, which was okay; I think that when somebody smiles at you, you should at least smile back, and if you don't you're a jerk.

I got an inkling of how panhandlers feel, even when they're not asking for money. Some people, as soon as they saw my flyers, looked at me in a strange way that seemed almost animalistic; they turned their heads at an angle, squinted slightly, and stared at me aggressively from the corners of their eyes when they passed. This meant "don't you DARE waste my time with another stupid flyer." It was like getting a dart from hell right into your forehead.

I also didn't want to discriminate, but with so many people approaching I needed to quickly decide who was most likely to be interested and approachable. I didn't want to assume that twinky boys would be better targets than -- for instance -- a guy who looked homeless. People in wheelchairs? Sweet old Oriental couples? The older lesbian and gay couples? Kids who appeared to be underage? Naked men? The Village People? The Human Pony?

Would a homeless man be offended if I gave him a pamphlet, or would it give him a feeling of integration, or would he just be indifferent? I decided to exclude those who were obviously homeless, on the grounds that it would be like giving tap shoes to a person with no legs. After doing this for a few hours, a homeless man walked right up to me and held out his hand. So heck, I gave him a flyer.

On Picture-Taking Tourists: Many of the Japanese girls are giving "peace" signs when they take pictures this year.

On Daytime Drag: My face fell apart at 3pm on Saturday, due to a number of factors that were all my fault. On Sunday, Jason introduced me to the joy of Ben Nye Fixing Spray, which was a huge revelation.

Still, there's simply no way to do totally convincing drag in direct sunlight. Sun dries out foundation and makes it curdle. It's difficult to strike a balance between "understated" and "overdone." Anybody who gets within three feet of you will have their illusions shattered.

Context: I have recurring anxiety nightmares about failing exams and screwing up a DJ set, but the most common -- and nightmarish -- of them all are my dreams about Being Only Half In Drag. Like, being out in public and realizing that I'm wearing men's shoes (or even just shoes that clash), or getting out on stage to perform and realizing I'm not wearing any makeup, or -- the most nightmarish of all -- being out in a sunny event with tens of thousands of people, and realizing that my face looks sort of like a wooly cottage cheese.

On Sunburn: I had a vivid and sort of pretty negative version of a dirndle halter top on my skin. No wonder I'd been getting woozy; I always feel that way when I've been out in the sun too long. I hadn't put any lotion on my shoulders, back, or chest, which was only slightly less stupid than the time I didn't put any on my feet, and had to crawl to the telephone the next day to tell my supervisor that I wouldn't be in to work, because my ankles were so swollen they could no longer flex.

On Cel Phones: During dinner, the woman at the table next to me was on her cel phone from the moment she sat down to the moment I left, which was halfway through her meal. Her five-year-old son played a game with his auntie (or nanny). The game was called "I'm Going Away Now." I can't help thinking his mom plays this game an awful lot with him, for real.

On Repetative Vision: When I shut my eyes to sleep I saw people walking towards me...face after face after face, not realistic but sort of like a crowd you'd see in a comic book. They were all walking towards me and I could see my hand and I was giving them flyers. I never saw the way the faces reacted, I just saw them aproaching, and they shifted and wobbled like a film about LSD.

Languishing

I apologize for not updating the blog much during the last few weeks. Besides a general busy-ness (I'll be in Toronto this weekend staffing the Pridetoberfest booth, and in July I'll be playing a non-speaking role in a webcast film series) and ongoing work on a complicated UPhold track ("The Road to Avondale"), I've mostly been nursing my hand.

As work gets more hectic (and involves more quick fiddling with documents), the strain on my tendonitis gets more extreme, and the less I can do outside of work. This includes typing blogs, cooking, opening windows, picking stuff up, and generally being useful.

I've found that soaking it in icewater makes a world of difference. But it's awfully hard to type when one hand is completely submerged in icewater, believe me.

Hopefully things will get back on track on Monday. And I'm sure I'll have lots of adventures to tell y'all about...

Photojourney 2.0!

Updating the old Photojourney was an incredible pain in the butt. Photos had to be cropped, resized, exported, uploaded...then the numbnails needed to be copied and cropped and overexposed and...geez, it's no wonder I got tired of it!

So I got myself a Flickr account. In fact, I've spent all weekend figuring it out and uploading the 90-some pictures from the last few months, including some odd stuff that I wouldn't have put on the old site. Go on over and have a look, and feel free to comment or whatever else you can do.

Based on my limited experience, Flickr is super-cool.

Ein Prosit, Part Two!

Once again I've been tapped to DJ Kitchener/Waterloo's Pridetoberfest event, which will be happening this year on October 6th. Woo-hoo!

We have yet to nail down the format and the finer details...but there is a more important consideration here: what the heck am I going to WEAR?

The Stag Shop dirndle is so perfect that I'm loathe to leave it at home, but I can't wear the same thing two years in a row, especially not when I'm standing up on the stage half of the night (looking pensively at CDs, as this screen snap from the website illustrates).

Delirium Clothing to the rescue. We've already started talks, trying to figure out how to combine "showgirl" with "fraulein" into a single fabulous (and daring) outfit. And if I wear a headdress, nobody will be able to crown me with an unflattering hat! An Oktoberfest Superhero theme is a win-win for everybody.

For the second time in as many years I'm finally LOOKING FORWARD to Kitchener's big tourist trap!

Guelph Pride 2007!

This year's Guelph Pride event is taking place at the Guelph Holiday Inn (601 Scottsdale Drive) on Saturday, May 26th, starting at 9pm (cover of $10). Carla Donnell (of Magic 106.1) and mayor Farbridge will be involved in the festivities...and I'll be performing a few numbers to help spice up the night!

If you can, please drop by. These events are always a lot of fun.