Cirque de So Gay pt.2

So, here’s the deal:

You go.
You pay your $25.
You watch one demonstration.
You get attached to your harness.
You climb a 946 foot ladder that’s held together with spirit gum and faith.
You stand on a platform that’s 10in x 3ft.
You grab onto a bar with one hand.
You grab on with the other.
You jump.
You Swing. Hook Legs.
You Swing. Drop arms. Bend your back.
You Swing. Grab on with hands.
You Swing. Drop legs.
You Swing. Perform double back flip.
You land safely into net.

Repeat steps 4-14, four times.
Meet with friends for cocktails afterwards to calm your nerves and ‘come down’.

Essentially, that was trapeze class. It also happened to be the MOST FUN I HAVE HAD IN TWO HOURS (outside of the bedroom), IN A VERY VERY LONG TIME.

Friday nights are Trapeze drop-in (pardon the pun) nights at The Toronto School of Circus Arts. Our class was eighteen people strong, but it can vary between as low as four people, and as high as 25. At first I though it would be boring, just sitting around while other people flew about, but as everyone was at different levels, it was great too see others perform tricks that we have yet to learn (note the emphasis on ‘yet’).

Definitely going back. No question. After waiting 7 months for the class, I’m hooked. I believe I may even take the full course when I can afford to drop the $700. Until then, I will be at liberty of the drop-in offerings.

Anybody want to join in? The group than went (Cell Phone Boy, Debbie Gibson, Sideshow Elissa, The Late One and I) have made a pact to go every other payday, and are more than willing to accept more guests and / or go on other Fridays as well. Also note, I think my birthday party will be held there… at least the start of it.

TWO MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS OF THE NIGHT:

1: One of my class mates was a four year old girl named Belinda. She climbed the ladder with ease, jumped on the bar like a pro, and hooked her legs as any four year old that has ever been to a Jungle-gym could. But when the instructor called out for her to drop her arms, she replied (mid-swing; from the rafters), “I don’t think I want to! I think I want to come down now.” A-D-O-R-A-B-L-E!

2: Edited out because, apparently, Cell Phone Boy wouldn’t want me to tell everyone that he farted out loud, in our direction. Oops.

Kids in the Hall - Nipples

One of my favourite KITH skits.
Short, but sweet.

I'm beginning to see a trend...

I know it's not just me, but I've been having serious problems trying to publish on this site lately.

Grrrrr.

Cirque de So Gay

Well, tonight I will be cashing in on one of last years Christmas gifts, and going to my first (of many?) Flying Trapeze classes.

Not much more to say about it really, as I'm not sure what it will entail, but wish us luck.

Oooooooo. Maybe one day I could move to Vegas!

Confessions of a Drag Queen (trailer)

How DOES she put her bits away?

Do Not Feed or Offer Poppers To The Drag Queens.

Just over a year ago, I met with The Boyfriend and several of his co-workers for a cocktail (or four) in Toronto’s Gay Village. We found ourselves in a quiet pub enjoying wine and martini’s. This is when we found out that one of his co-workers, Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon, was looking forward to seeing some drag queens. What Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon didn’t know was that not every square inch of The Village was hopping with tucked penises.

This is when the begging started. For the past 12 months all we’ve heard is, “Oh. You have to take me out to see the queens.” “I Want to see the queens.” “Where are the queens?” “When are we going to see the queens?” “Is that a queen?” Honestly, you’d think that she had never seen a Drag Queen in her life. Well, I guess, she DOES live in Mississauga. So we finally were able to book a date and this past Saturday saw us all getting ready to see the queens.

The Boyfriend, Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon, and Issabell de Isabella (their Portuguese co-worker that married a man with the same surname as her given name… straight people are so weird) and I all met at a lively little Hookah bar in Little Italy. Over the first few martinis, we talked about the bar and the show that we were about to go see. Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon was shocked. “There’s an actual show?” What did she think, that we kept drag queens in cages so that we could just look at them? We would post signs that said, “Do Not Feed Or Offer Poppers To The Drag Queens”?

Off we go to Church Street and arrive at Crews & Tango, a local bar that offers nightly entertainment of the Gender Bending kind. Tonight we would be seeing Farrah N. Hyte and Heaven Lee Hytes (two of my personal favourites) doing what they do best: parade around in women's clothing lip singing to other peoples songs.

Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon was like a kid at Disneyland. Her mouth dropped, her eyes bulged out, a small trickle of drool dangling from her chin. Pretty. She was quickly spotted as the new girl on the street. Others in line with us were helping her spot out drag queens on the street. “Really, that’s one?” No, Rammadeep, that seven foot tall woman in platform heels, huge blonde wig, wearing sequins is actually a woman. So much to learn, but so eager.

Once we made it inside, it was Issabell de Isabella’s turn to be shocked. She was expecting a piano bar setting, were we would be entertained by “Cher”, “Madonna”, “Barbra”, “Tina”, “Bette” and the rest. Much to her surprise, we were allowed to dance, jump, scream and applaud while Farrah and Heaven Lee egged us on. It only took a few minutes for the girls to get used to hearing ‘the girls’ using language courser than a longshoreman with tourettes.

The evening went well. A little too well, I think. As we left, the new veterans of gay culture looked across the street and saw another bar. “What’s the Black Eagle?” asked Rammadeep Nabendu Poonam Sandeep Rupinder Nahasapeemapetilon.

“A leather/bear bar.” We replied knowingly.

“Oh. You have to take me out to see the leather daddies and bears.” “I Want to see the leather daddies and bears.” “Where are the leather daddies and bears?” “When are we going to see the leather daddies and bears?” “Are they leather daddies and bears?”

Oh boy. It’s going to be an interesting summer.

My apologies to anybody out there who may be reading. Especially Fat Girl. Sheesh! I had no idea that someone would get so worked up about me taking a few days off. Apparently, and this I did not know, my blog is like crack to her.

I’ve been a very busy boy this week and have not had time to sit down and put something to paper. But trust that I will soon. I have a few things that are ready, they just need to be typed.

So Sooooooooooorry. I’ll try to be more responsible.

-L

PS: Does that count as a post?

I Should Start Getting Paid For Promoting People...

Click here to listen to a great song. I just put it onto my iPod this morning, and have already listened to it several times over. You can get a FREE download of it off the Official Website by clicking the big pink banner.

The song is called 'Fade In Time'. It's a new song off the upcoming album "Sky is Open" from Donna De Lory. I've never heard any of her personal music before, but if it's a lot like this I just may buy this album.

I imagine it to be great for meditation (if your practice involves music), quiet walks, yoga, background music at dinner... anything. I'm trying to learn the words so that I can sing along (See previous post).

Give it a shot. You won't be sorry.

Sing It, Sister!

Karen Carpenter was on to something. Well, maybe not with the whole starvation / bulimia thing, but with the singing thing, she was bang on.

Anyone who knows me knows one thing: I have the kind of smooth, silky singing voice that could make Helen Keller turn in her grave. That’s right, I can’t sing. Not a note. Not one bar. I couldn’t carry a tune with a duffle bag. You want melody… forget it!

That being said, I LOVE SINGING. Love it. I sing all the time… well whenever I’m alone, that is. There’s something that just feels so powerful about belting out a tune (that sounds rather foul doesn’t it. “You’ve been a very very bad tune. I’m gonna give you a belting you won’t soon forget!”). Singing to your hearts content, as loud as you want (remember to be alone when doing this… unless you actually possess some semblance of talent) without a care in the world. Just you and your Judy Garland album.

I listen to music all the time. It surrounds me. At home my CD’s are always playing. At work, too. In between the two, I have my iPod. Unless I’m in the movie theatre or having dinner with people, I’m listening to music. And truth be told, if I’m having dinner with really boring people, I still listen to music just to drown them out. (Shhhhhh, our secret.) And when I listen, I just can’t help myself but to sing along.

Studies have shown that singing is actually beneficial to our health to boot. They say (‘They’ being the people that do these studies) that when we’re singing, good or bad, our mood is elevated and endorphins are released and some other good stuff happens, or something… I wasn’t actually paying attention to the article.

I’ve actually got another confession to make: I sometimes fancy myself a famous singer of some sort, and dance around my apartment singing along with Madonna, Liza, Elton, Tina, Enrique, whoever. I dance around like I was in the video. Mirrors really come in handy at this point. My apartment is not the largest unit on the planet, so I am rather limited to my moves, but I can still Vogue like nobody’s business. Although I did make quick note that I would never again try to duplicate the finale of ‘Flashdance’.

Maybe things will be different when a CERTAIN Fat Girl and I actually get around to booking ourselves into a dance class of some sort. Until then, take a cue from Karen, the ‘They’ and from me…

Sing, sing a song

Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad.

Sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Don't worry that it's not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song.

Sing, sing a song
Let the world sing along
Sing of love there could be
Sing for you and for me.
-The Carpenters

The End Of My Career!

Inspired be Fat Girl’s post about knowing what you want to be when you grow up, I thought I’d share some musings of my own.

If you’ve not been reading my earlier series “A Brief History of My Career” (and why haven’t you?), then let me bring you up to date…

Ever since Grade 1, I have wanted to become a hairstylist. Right after high school I enrolled at Marvel College and became a Stylist. I took of like a shot and almost instantly became Yellowknife’s “Go-To Guy”. Within months, I was booked several weeks in advance. Within two years, I was unable to accommodate any new clients.

I opened my own salon and became the epitome of what a young, fabulous, naive hairstylist should be: I traveled the continent on a monthly basis going to this class, or that workshop. A few symposiums in Vegas. Colour classes in New York. Hands-on workshops directed by some of the industries biggest names… Ruth Roche, Chris Baran, Sharon Biro, Sam Villa, et al.

I tired of this soon enough, and decided to take my talents and move them to Toronto… for if I could make it there, I’d make it anywhere. My goals?
- Get my name into magazines.
- Work on serious photo shoots.
- Work on television.
- Work Fashion shows.
- Become a serious, well known, respected educator.
- Build a firm, solid clientele.

Well in just over two years, I’ve been named several times in NATIONAL magazines, most recently listed as one of the top Colourists in Toronto in Fashion Magazine. I’ve done several photo shoots for competition, magazine, advertising etc. Filmed several episodes of Prime Networks ‘Diva on a Dime’, as well as TLN's ‘Viva Dominicana’ and that makeover show that the Designer Guys did. Been hairstylist (and once a model) for a few fashion shows, some big, some small.

My career as an educator was brilliant. Having recently left the position, I still run into students that ask why I left, request that I come back to their salon to teach. Across eastern Canada there are stylists that have been asking why I left or where I have gone to. My clientele has built into quite a respectable size for someone who’s only been in the city 2 years.

So, on paper, I’ve done all that I’ve set out to do, yes? I should, by all accounts be happy and satisfied, yes? Actually, no.

You see, I left Yellowknife thinking that the reason I was unhappy is that I was there. I felt like I just needed to spread my wings. I wanted to see, just see, if I could actually fly.

Around the same time that I was deciding this, I started studying Kabbalah and Buddhism.

Kabbalah taught me that everything I valued in the material realm (known as the 1%) was not bringing me happiness. The money, the fame, the fortune that I sought was not going to bring the fulfillment that I was hoping for. Buddhism showed me what was happening to me from my past way of thinking. I was learning more about the type of person I was becoming.

While I was being continually overwhelmed by these principals, I came to the realization that I was unhappy because I have swayed from my original path. Before I got into the fashion industry I did a lot of volunteer work. Even early in my career I volunteered my services quite often. But then I got dollar signs in my eyes and started seeing everything through green tinted glasses.

Where am I going with this? Well many months ago, I made a decision:
I am leaving the Fashion Industry!

Any readers that are my clients, don’t worry! I am not completely leaving. I am just going to be making hairstyling my part-time gig eventually. I’ve decided that I can’t die after living a life selling the idea that our outer appearances are that important. I can’t die thinking that my greatest accomplishment was getting my foil highlights closer to the root than most colourists. Good things to be sure, and definitively something to take pride in, but I crave more.

I want to save the world!

Some of you may scoff or roll your eyes, but trust me, I will do it. I am going to work the rest of my natural life trying to make the world a better place. Clear peoples eyes. Challenge peoples beliefs. Open peoples hearts. Give someone, somewhere hope.

I’m not quite sure how I’ll do it, but I do have a short term plan. So, submitted for your approval, here is my new set of goals:

- Enrol in a Fundraising & Volunteer Management Program at one of the three colleges in Toronto that offer it.
- Start work in the Not-For-Profit / Voluntary sectors.
- Encourage more people to volunteer on a regular basis.
- Encourage more people to reduce/reuse/recycle.
- Empower people to be the change they want to see in the world.
- Annually travel to Africa, India or any other 3rd world country to do volunteer work for a month or so.
- Die knowing that I’ve done something.

No small order, but I love a challenge.