Eau de Jo

Above: The Brazilian Girls, about ten minutes into the New Year.

So...my performance last night was rocky, to say the least, due to rushing, costume malfunctions, and cables on the stage. It was really cool in spite of my being disappointed about that, though. I was looking the audience, a very packed Irving Plaza, right in the face, which I'm not used to, and they were grinning and cheering even though some of them were pretty puzzled by me. I'd been preceded by this great insane marching band in paper costumes--a member of whom turned out to my my rather reticent next-door neighbor--and they were ready for anything. They liked the fan dance, but they LOVED the tassels. I had wondered if the tassels would play to that large of a room, but no problem. When I did the single-tassel twirl, they just roared. I was so fucking relieved. It's always weird to take burlesque out of the burlesque environment, and sometimes very bad things happen, but this ended up great even though my performance started out subpar.

The band was awesome. I mean, they were brilliant onstage, but what made my night was that they were also very appreciative and flirty backstage and, how shall I put this, charmingly gropey. I was running around like a puppy at a birthday party, looking for petting.

AND they paid me cash AND they invited me to come fool around at Nublu. I had plans, though.

I also got to spend some time with Scott Ewalt, who I just adore, and his partner, with whom I had an interesting conversation. He thought I had left all that sex work stuff behind me and moved on to a new life in burlesque, and I was surprised that anybody would think that about me. But it gave me a little perspective on what people who don't actually know that much about me might think. I always assume I appear to be such an aging hooker, right up front, but I guess not!

I walked part of the way home alone in my drag makeup. It was drizzling out, so the streeets weren't too crowded. People kept seeing all my glitter and rhinestones and eyelashes and would say, "You look amazing! Happy New Year!" as if fake eyelashes were the best thing in the world. Well, they certainly aren't one of the worst things in the world.

Then I went to 3 of Cups and snuggled with Rik for awhile before coming up and uploading pix.

And then to bed.

I've heard a lot of people say 2006 sucked, but in spite of my financial issues and dating accidents and worrying about my sisters' health, most of my year was unexpectedly satisfying. This has nothing to do with the state of the world at large, naturally.

Now for the Year of the Pig (which actually begins in February, and that's one Chinese New Year's Parade I'm VERY sorry I'll miss), and my New Year's Resolution: to continue to cuss. Have a fabulous, rubber-gloved, well-lubricated fist-fuck of a new year. Thanks for the inspiration, Content!

I haven't yet really evaluated 2006, but but upcoming for me this year:

The Sex Workers' Art Show Tour

Who Killed Jo Boobs? A Burlesque Murder Mystery

New Advanced Burlesque Classes

A new weekly party with someone I adore and admire (details to come!)

Plus an art gallery showing in Los Angeles in June, another Exotic World striptease reunion, and who knows what else!

So this year is bound to be interesting--and the Chinese curse is usually true for me.