A few days before I play a show, I usually get sick. It starts with the throat, a fever and then moves onto chills, cough, headache, joints aching, then wraps itself up nicely with me lying in a horizontal position crying “BUT I HAVE A SHOOOOW!! I CANNOOOT GET SIIIIICK!!!!”.
Then it “magically” disappears…usually...oh...right after I am done playing.
No mystery here at all. But I don’t even have the slightest bit of stage fright. My favorite times are spent playing music to an audience but I REALLY wish I could be that “chill” girl, the one whose feathers never get ruffled, the one whose stomach doesn’t hurt all the frickin' time. But I’m not. I am a high strung, over achiever who sometimes vomits at any sign of change. Change being most accurately described as in anything involving leaving the house.
No surprise then that today I woke up sick. Throat ache, check. Feverish. Check. Nice work. Right on schedule. This should flare up nicely into a full blown flu by Friday, leaving plenty of room for a full blown panic on Saturday leading right into Sunday’s show. Voila.
But this time is different. This time I decided to mix it up a little and REALLY up the ante. Give myself something REAL to panic about. So I sliced my finger open across the joint with a bread knife while opening some boxes.
FB: “Are you retaaaaaaarded???!!”
ME: “Uh, yes?”
NICE!! Why stop now? Why not take a pair of scissors to your hair and give yourself a brand new set of...
FANTASTIC NEW BANGS!!!!
Pantera called, they want ALL their fans back. Immediately.
These bangs are not doctored, sprayed, gelled, blow-dried or styled in ANY way. Yes, my friends, they were washed and let to dry on their downy, feathery own. I spent 20 minutes trying to glue them to my head this morning and all it took was one small puff of wind to send them flying gracefully into the unicorn wings they were born to be.
Guess I better start learning some Slo-Jazz numbers for Sunday. Sigh.