Friday, 13 July 2012


I rarely feel sexy, but the one time I do actually think of myself as attractive - I don't believe it when told so, even if it makes me grin inside - always coincides with my being on stage. I am clearly an attention whore, or enjoy making a fool of myself. Or the son of an actor.

All three.

Okay, I can't dance, I can't act, I can't sing and my instrumental skills are sub-par. I seem to be able to talk though, and make people laugh. I do that at the Erotic Meet sometimes. Works for me, anyway. And, considering I haven't had the greatest of weeks (well, it's been all right, but not the brilliant week it ought to have been), I do need a bit of an ego boost. I need to do a gig, but nobody came to my last one, and therefore it's not very encouraging to attempt to do so.


I am aware that tomorrow is my cousin's wedding; therefore, it's her day - and all attention should be on her. Allegedly she hasn't finished making the dress yet, so they will be if there's any loose stitching left over. Although I'm hoping her fiancé gets some attention too... however he ends up dressed. I don't really want to know. And I'm aware that the cabaret she's been planning is a temporary diversion for the assemblage of guests at the reception. And it's just cabaret. It's not about me, and it's in no way an ego trip.

But I will be singing a song in Russian while as dressed as Doctor Who.

I can cope with that.

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