So last night I did my first show. It has taken me this long to get my thoughts enough past “god that was so scary!” to write a coherent post about it. First of all, a LOT more people showed up than I expected. There were even a couple I didn’t know. But I am sending my thanks for coming to all of you, family, friends, and people who just thought “why not watch this? it might be fun.” You are all awesome, even if I was terrified because of you. Also, the people who are awesome plus a million: Andy, Mum, Dad, and Alison.
Now that I have thanked people for helping and showing up, I guess I should say something about this show. My problem is the only way I can think to describe it as is “scary!” We didn’t have monitor speakers, so I could barely hear the piano and cello. On the quieter songs I was constantly thinking “please let me have come in in the right spot just now.” One thing I did notice was I got a lot less scared once I actually said to the audience “sorry, I’m a little nervous.” Unfortunately, I said that near the end of the show. Maybe I should start saying that at the beginning at the every performance, to get it out of the way. What makes me really feel better about my nervousness is that despite my shaking, and my slip-ups on stage, I did not leave thinking “I never want to do that again.” I just made a conscious decision to practice a lot more, and to perform so much that hopefully it will be not quite such a big deal.
I did make an amazing poster for Cyclops, but I forgot to take a picture of it. The drawing style is reminiscent of a 5-year-old. There are various fluffy animals, one turtle, and a puddle of blood thrown in for good measure. I am quite proud of it. Hopefully either Andy or I will get a picture taken of it this week. Hopefully.
5 minutes to go.
After what I consider the success of my previous blog, I have decided to write probably almost all of these entries spur of the moment with a half hour time limit. It gives the critic that is my brain less time to realize that I’m being somewhat creative.
I’ve been working on what I’ve been referring to as my self-pity song, but it really has a better title than that. Of course, all of my songs are self-pitying in some way or other, but this is the one where I go all out. I just like the idea of having a song to work on where I can dump all the angst I want and no one can call me out on it because hey, I’ve told them what they’re getting into by listening to it. This song, I don’t have to worry whether it’s bad, so bad it’s good, or even somewhat bearable to listen to. I can write whatever I want for it and it doesn’t matter because hey, this is my self-pity song, and self-pity has an excuse for being annoying.
My first performance is in two weeks and I’m being extremely nervous. As much as I’ve performed in the past, the spotlight has never really been on me. I’ve been one of the cellists, or just another piece in the line-up, and, with one exception, all things written by someone else. Obviously, this paragraph belongs in the self-pity song. I am excited, too. I think, I hope my songs are good, and I hope I’ll have an audience, and logically I know I can’t have a worse screw-up than I did at my cello recital when I was 11, but not knowing how this will go gets to me.
I’m not quite sure what else to say, I am publishing this entry with 10 minutes to go.
So, I am very bad at writing blog posts consistently. Very, very bad. Looking back on previous ones discourages me, because I am my own worst critic. I have a friend, let’s call him John, who is also very bad at updating his blog. We just agreed to have our next entry up in a half hour. He has a head start. I am just typing whatever comes into my head. I will so win.
So this is my first blog entry of 2010. Doesn’t really seem all that special. I expect interesting things to happen in 2010, but 2009 taught me that the interesting things aren’t the ones you want to have happen. I much prefer living in the past. It’s safer. I know what’s going to happen when, and I don’t have to make any more decisions about it. 2010 is scary. I have my first ever non-open mic performance of my own songs, I’m moving…somewhere, I’m doing…who knows what? Let’s go back to 2002. I enjoyed Pokémon non-ironically then. I had a friend in the neighborhood, and I would go over to his house and we would play with his Pokémon figurines. As far as I remember, the only thing we ever talked about was Pokémon. I didn’t know anything else about him. Yay for simple, uncomplicated friendships.
There are 18 minutes before I am required to post, and so far I feel happier with what I’ve written here than any of my other entries. Thank you Amanda Palmer, for showing me that blogs do not have to be in essay format. Yes, you probably have to be famous to get people to read blog posts like this, and be liked to get people to care, but to quote Emilie Autumn, it’s not about you. It’s about me.