Remember how I was bitching about about feeling like I’m stuck on a treadmill set to max speed? Well, guess what — the fucker wasn’t even AT max speed; I found that out when shit really got cranking these past couple of weeks. Come to find out, I didn’t know what “max speed” even meant….apparently, my life goes to eleven!!!
The minute I returned from rambling around Arizona with my sis, it was on. After unpacking, doing laundry and cleaning my house,etc., I got back to the business of hustling for gigs….and holy living Christ on a horse, what an avalanche!!
It all started innocuously enough, with my annual Super Bowl gig as a showgirl at my neighbor’s party — she works for a local Italian restaurant (casadiamore.com), and they throw this HUGE party every year at one of the hotels. It’s a fun and easy gig — just walk around and schmooze with the patrons, taking photos and whatnot, then leave at the end of halftime, by which time everyone is so wasted they don’t even notice if I’m there or not.
But this year, I had an idea — I had just returned from 10 days camping in the Arizona desert, so my armpits were pretty gnarly. I happened to have a can of green hairspray around the house, so before I left for the gig, I sprayed my armpit hair green and posted a “Go, Seahawks!” photo on Instagram (the Seahawks’ colors are green and blue). Of course, I shaved them before actually leaving for the party (because, you know…society)….but what a shame; it would have been super funny if I’d had one armpit green and the other red, so that depending on the allegiance of the patron I was posing with, I could raise that arm into the air: “Gooooo New England!!”
Speaking of showgirls, if you had told me 10 years ago that I would one day find work as a showgirl in Vegas, I would have laughed my ass off. Me? A showgirl?!? I’m short, flat-chested and I can’t dance to save my life!!!! But astonishingly, I did two other turns as a showgirl recently. First, a magician friend who has an events production company hired me to work as a sort of ring girl at the World Finals of Indoor Archery!
This is one of the things I love about Vegas — all the weird little niche events going on here, all the time. I didn’t even know there was such a thing as indoor archery, let alone a fiercely competitive world final…but here were all these people from all over the world, who had spent tons of time and money getting to this level, duking it out for the title (and the cash prize). It was intense!!
All we really had to do was walk around schmoozing and then going out with a sign at the start of each round — like at a boxing match, only here I was walking a gauntlet of international archers armed to the teeth with pointy fiberglass arrows. YIKES!
To make matters worse, I’ve been having a tough time sleeping lately, so one night I ate a half a pot cookie to help conk me out….and as much as I love edibles for their sleep-enhancing qualities, the devil with them is not knowing when they’ll wear off. So one of the days I worked, I was still in a sort of fog, strutting around in my feathers and sequins and whatnot like I was floating on a cloud. A cloud made of pointy sharp fiberglass. Talk about surreal!
Meanwhile, everyone was baked at another gig I did — the CHAMPS tradeshow (a/k/a the stoner expo). CHAMPS is a show for anyone in the smokeshop industry — pipe makers, glass blowers, fake-pee-kit-manufacturers and odor-eliminating candlemakers…you know what I’m talking about. I was working for a repeat client, this company called SunshineJoy that makes trippy 3-D psychedelic tapestries. Last time I worked for them, I ended up buying half their inventory and taking it to Burning Man, where it was a huge hit…they really are bad-ass tapestries. All I really had to do was stand around all day exhorting people to come into the booth and put on a pair of 3D glasses, so it was pretty chill….but let me tell you, I’m pretty sure I was the only sober person there!!
Being surrounded by all those stoners was actually depressing, in a way — the vendors had their shit together (for the most part), but so many of the attendees were baked out of their gourds that it was pretty sad. I’m a huge fan of smoking weed myself, but I only do it as a reward at the end of a hard day’s work (Burning Man aside, LOL)…I can’t imagine walking around all day trying to function in that state. Also, I noted that most stoner models are pretty tore up — like any trade show, the exhibitors at CHAMPS hire booth babes to help promoted their products, and some of the girls I saw walking around were busted as fuck!!! Cellulite-y asses, shitty tattoos, fucked-up makeup…..ugh!!!! Meanwhile, no one would hire me in my Mary Jane showgirl outfit. Whatever!!!
But on the whole it was a fun show, and I ran into many of my industry pals like my buddy Jeffrey Peterson the 420 comic, who was down from Denver and gave me a copy of his new stoner comic book…and my friends at Pyptek, who hooked me up with a super-sweet new pink Prometheus piece. Let me tell you, I hit that fuckin’ piece with a vengeance when that show was over. Like I said, a reward for a hard day’s work well done 🙂
Aside from hum-drum gigs as a showgirl and a stoner booth babe, I also spent one fabulous day out in the wonderful desert sunshine doing one of my all-day photo excursions (see my Modeling tab for more info). This time, I was hired by a Canadian photographer who ended up bringing another model and several other photographers, all from Calgary, along for the day. It was really fun! We all piled into their rented minivan and we took off for three of my favorite locations, shooting for an hour or two at each. Everyone got great shots, and a great time was had by all.
Incidentally, a photographer recently told me that I have a “very good reputation up in Calgary.” I’m not sure how that happened, but I do know that I’ve been getting quite a few bookings from Candians lately. Someday I hope to be able to travel up to Canada myself for some shoots…but I have this pesky DUI on my record, so you fuckers won’t let me into your country :-/ So in the meanwhile, you’ll just have to come down here to shoot 🙂
Anyway, after all that I was getting pretty worn out. I had already pretty much made my nut for the month, so I planned to just take a few days off and spend some time around the house, working on the various craft projects I always have brewing: a fabulous mermaid-queen headdress, the caftan I bought in Bisbee that needs embellishing, the cinderblock wall in my backyard that needs muraling/mosaic-ing. As I was putting on my showgirl makeup one day, I had discovered this amazing Pandora station based around 60s piano kings Ferrante & Teicher — all swanky piano music and instrumental 101-Strings-type Valium-drenched fabulousness of the highest order. So I wanted nothing more than to be able to lounge around the house all day in my caftan, boozing and crafting with this fabulous soundtrack playing in the background. Alas, it wasn’t meant to be.
I’ve always had a hard time saying NO, especially when it comes to paid gigs — you never know when work is gonna dry up, ya know, so I feel like I have to accept every booking that comes down the pike — as long as it meets my minimum hourly pay rate. So, even though I was really looking forward to a few days off, I found myself unable to say no when a girlfriend from Arizona called with an offer to work a loathsome 3-day corporate gig at a hotel out in the suburbs.
The gig sounded super easy, so I said yes…and so the next three days of my life were swallowed up by a hideous royal-blue polyester long-sleeved polo shirt bearing the logo of a certain consumer electronics giant, which was having its national sales conference at the J.W. Mariott in Summerlin. They had hired a dozen or so staff to assist with directions and event facilitation and whatnot, and it was really a very easy gig…but exhausting nonetheless, as I was on my feet all day, every day. Also, the girl who got me the gig asked me if she could stay at my place for the duration of the event — since she lives in Arizona, she couldn’t really drive back and forth every day. Of course I said yes, and honestly I didn’t mind…but it was still tough having to be “on” even when work was over, and I just wanted to go home and get baked in solitude.
To make matters even worse, the weather that week happened to be amazingly gorgeous — in the upper 70s, sunny, fabulous. But I had to spend all day, every day cooped up in that hideous polyester shirt in the bowels of the J.W. Mariott. Oh, well. At least it was only for three days — the miserably henpecked, harried-looking salespeople at the event were in it for life. SHUDDER!!!!!!!
After the sales conference ended, I still had a few days off to enjoy — but guess what happened?? Yep, someone else called with a job offer — this time, just a couple days’ worth of quickie little in-store liquor sampling events for one of my all-time favorite liqueurs. Hang out in a liquor store for 3 hours and pour free samples of delicious booze? How could I say no to that?!?!? So again, on my days “off” I found myself suiting up in a fluorescent branded crop-top, pouring shots of RumChata and this amazing new liqueur called TippyCow, which is a delicious rum-based cream with flavors like orange creamsicle and shamrock mint. YUM!!! At one of the stores I worked at, there was another chick pouring samples of this horrifying new drink called Viniq that is made of grape vodka and moscato…and has shimmery flakes in it, so when you shake the bottle it starts sparkling like a hideous sparkly purple lava lamp. OMG…..how gross is that?!?!?!? But astonishingly, she sold a shit ton of it…just going to show, you can never trust peoples’ taste.
So anyway, by this time I was getting really stressed out from all the work and commitments — I mean to tell you, I have been going balls out the past 12 days!! Aside from the above-mentioned gigs, I also found time to record an interview with these cool people who are making a sort of Vegas-based “This American Life”-type podcast….plus another day I did a Vegas Bimbo shoot with my friend Randy, and then another day I did a shoot as a mermaid out on one of the dry lake beds. I didn’t even get paid for the mermaid shoot — I did it “TFT,” as in…”Trade For Tail,” as the photographer bought me this amazing mermaid tail in exchange for shooting in it, LOL! So, once I FINALLY get around to finishing my amazing mermaid headdress, I’ll have a bad-ass new costume to add to my arsenal 🙂
See, I’m not all about making a buck — aside from the TFT shoot, I also did a pro bono gig as a showgirl for my magician friend — the guy who had hired me for the world finals of indoor archery event. I felt I owed him a favor after that well-paid assignment, so when he asked if I could come hang around his booth at this women’s expo at Bally’s one night in my showgirl costume, of course I said yes.
It ended up being totally fun — free booze was flowing, the Cointreau babes were handing out free shots as well, and there were all kind of local kooks and nut-jobs hanging out schmoozing. My partner at the magician’s booth was this amazing miniature Elvis impersonator — a lecherous, swarthy Greek Little Person who is married to a mini Marilyn Monroe impersonator. How fabulous is that?!?!? The only bad part of the gig was, I had come directly from the corporate sales conference thing I’d been working at the J.W. Mariott, which had the most amazing, abundant catered breakfasts, lunches and snacks…so I was bloated like a zeppelin from all the French toast, sausage, scrambled eggs, tortellini, prosciutto slices, mini-cheesecakes and Rice Krispie Treats I had been snarfing down all day (and indeed for the past three days of the entire event). Thank dog I do all those ab exercises at the gym, so I was able to suck ‘er in with a modicum of success, and somehow pass myself off as a showgirl…not a blimp.
Anyhoo, as mentioned this 12-day marathon of merriment, money, free food & booze was fun, but the constant whirlwind activity left me totally stressed out, and unable to sleep. No matter how much weed I smoked, wine I drank or Ferrante & Teicher I listened to, nothing could calm my racing thoughts down at night, and I found myself lying in bed, toes twitching and tapping as I thought of all the millions of things I had to to the next day, and tried to figure out a way to squeeze them all in while still making time for the gym and my daily hygienic ablutions.
So finally, sadly, I admitted to myself that I simply cannot say YES to everything anymore. Saying YES has been my policy ever since 2010, when a fortune cookie at TAO told me “Those Who Say Yes Have More Fun…” but I should have known not to take the advice of a doucher-ass place like TAO, anyway! Ever since adopting that policy, I’ve had a TON of fun and amazing adventures…but I’ve also become an insomniac basketcase!!!!
Now, I certainly don’t plan to stop having adventures — that goes without saying! But my new policy is to only say YES to exceptionally amazing things. And when it comes to work, I plan to only accept bookings of a certain total pay rate. I’m just one frail human body….I can’t be everything to everyone, everywhere, at all times. Even though I really wish I could!
And speaking of exceptionally amazing adventures…in T-minus 48 hours I’ll be off on another one: it is finally time for my long-anticipated road trip around the state of Nevada, in which I plan to definitively answer the age-old question: “Is there anything between Vegas and Reno?” I’ve driven up and down U.S. 95 many times, but the time has finally come to stray from the beaten path and get all up in the barren wastelands of central and northern NV. No secret government bunker, no Hills-Have-Eyes meth lab, no dusty, sun-baked brothel will escape my scrutiny…..WATCH OUT YOU INBRED FREAKS, WONDERHUSSY IS ON THE WAY!!!
But in the meantime, I’m going to lounge around the house in my caftan listening to Ferrante & Teicher…and relax!!!!
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