Maxi  x   

Mardi Gras 2009!

Has it been a good weekend, when you end up on the lounge, cuddling a large mug of hot water, lemon and honey. I answer the phone as though I have transformed into my great aunt Kath (2 packs a day lady) in just a weekend. “How was your Mardi Gras”, in which I croak an answer and quickly make an excuse to return to my mug of comfort.
Why do we do it? By no means is it because I was a dirty stop out and had a debauches weekend, far from it. Constantly talking for 4 days straight, I went from a voice like a beautiful garden and now a gravel pit.

Mardi Gras weekend starts much the same with all showgirls, and that is a Friday night full of craziness and venues crammed to the rafters with patrons eager to soak in the Mardi Gras spirit. Fighting the crowds even just to get to our stages. Loving all the new faces, especially the international boys smiling from all corners of the dance floor.
Like most “Nights Before”, crowds start to disappear about 1am, with many pretending to be good and get a full nights rest before the big parade.
Through broken sleep, I made lists, of, “Get hair, diamontee dress and better pick up some healthy-ish food to stock the fridge”.

After numerous snooze presses the day was finally here, and I could almost feel the buzz from Oxford St in my lounge room. Running here and there like a caged tiger, I slowly crossed things off my “To do List” and it wasn’t long before I was in front of the make up mirror applying an inch of prettiness.
Our call time was 5pm at the BGF stands, I had a distance to go, Verushka lived around the corner, I arrived at 430pm (I’m always early or on time) and well lets not talk about Verushka’s arrival time.

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So I have climbed the harbour bridge, I’ve been to Jet boats around the harbour, I’ve posed naked for all and sundry to see, but my latest adventure seemed to scared the pants off me more than any of those did.

Saying that those that do drag for a living, are just men in dresses “WOO HOO” would be an understatement. Granted you have probably 30% of the equation correct, but there is a lot more to making a good living, especially in the “Arts” ( I know I’m not the only one that loves it in the ARTS).

You find that those showgirls regularly working, are constantly striving for something new or developing their talents to provide a better show for their audiences.
Keen to have as many fingers in pies or feathers in my cap as possible, I have recently completed a course in Presentation and Announcing at AFTRS- Australian Film, Television and Radio School.
Why did it send the willies up me, you may be asking? For someone that hasn’t studied for over 14 years, the thought I sitting an a lecture room and taking notes, rattled my apple cart. I knew that when I came to practical I would be able to shine, but the quizzes, exams and even taking notes has this old girl in a spin.

Well it has come to that part of the year where we stop and reflect on what 2008 has given us. I have to say that the good fairies smiled on me during 2008 and I had one of the best years of my life.

I jetsetted over to Ireland and UK with the Sydney Convicts where they took out the Bingham Cup once again. I soon experienced the adventures of my first overseas trip and that I had a new extended family in the Sydney Convicts.
Trying to keep my cap feathered I completed a course in Radio at AFTRS, which had me in North Ryde weekly, to the shock of many of my class mates, most of my course I had to complete in lady form due to work commitments.
I took my younger brother to DIVA’s where I was lucky enough to pick up “Queen of Hearts” once again, which meant a little more having my brother in the audience smiling back at me.
Keeping it in the family, my Dad who I hadn’t seen in many years, dropping into a performance, to see his son had turned into a Showgirl…. It took him a little while to realize it was me, but once he did, he chuckled along, soaking in everything around him.

I think for any performer to have family in the audience is a huge deal, like many gay boys, to have my Mum’s approval when I was younger meant a lot. After finding out that Dad had actually seen a show before her, it seemed to have lit a fire under my Mum. I knew it was going to be baby steps, but she was determined to make the trek up.
I had expected maybe next year I would see her in one of my audiences but was taken by surprise when my brother messaged me to say, “Mum’s coming up on Wednesday, Dress sexy”.