Girl on the Brink: Surviving Desperate Times with Desperate Measures

Oh, boy. I found a new confidence builder: amateur burlesque. Read this one in The Washington Post. Anything, I say, to get noticed builds my confidence. When I’m the center of attention, I feel like a man—in control. Mind you, I don’t think I’d ever have the nerve to do it, take off my clothes. It’s not the taking off part that bothers me.

It’s what underneath. I’m lookin’ good for my age, but becoming a burlesque star when you’re middle age is about as realistic as ABC choosing me as the next Bachelorette.  Face it—the body ages. I can’t imagine the deep-wrinkled SharPei dog look is in, but then again, people are into a lot of weird things.

But think of the fun—and the money, which I could use. First off, just thinking about my stage name invokes thoughts of smoky lust and red lipstick, and I’ve been such a good girl all these years. I’d want to give my stage name some thought, however.  Nothing corny or trite. I like Cherry Blossom, because I live in Washington, DC, and the Cherry Blossom Festival recently ended. Maybe people would remember.

I’d wear lots of pink and cherry blossoms as pasties, and I do hear they fall off on amateur night, which takes place at The Palace of Wonders in Northeast D.C. But you can buy Nip Dots and Nip Tac to hold them in place as an alternative to spirit gum, which is apparently the heavy duty stuff. Seems like spirit gum is what you’d use if you had warring melons, which I don’t; more like tomato cherries that were separated at birth.

Wednesday’s Cherry Popp’n Peep Show is when I’d perform and hope for the best, like having a talent scout spot me. They’re in the audience.  At least that’s what the website says.