6/13/2010
I'm not quite a trauma magnet when it comes to life events. Indeed, I seem to have circumvented near disaster a lot in the past few weeks between spraining my wrist, (though not breaking it), finding an ecosystem in my closet, (and flushing it), and learning that some things require closer inspection and awareness. I'm thankful for my luck because any of these situations could have blown up into something horrible but wound up just making really funny anecdotes to tell people and watch them cringe.
So, for anyone who knows me even in passing knows I'm not suitable parent material. I have no patience for children, an aversion to feces, strange smells, and children's entertainers. There are plenty of people with viable ovaries and better life skills I feel who will continue the species and don't require my genetic output. So it was with a great sense of unease on day two as I started to feel unwell and then be violently sick. I mulled over the possibilities: I was fine by afternoon both days and it was just in the morning it would hit me. While I had my head in the toilet bowl on day three I was convinced it was neither food poisoning or virus. In my mind that only left one explanation...
I should stop here and point out that my roommate was in Las Vegas performing at the Burlesque Hall Of Fame weekend with my of my friends. So my slow, unravelling of sanity was unchecked by the voice of reason. Reason was noticeably absent. If Lola had perhaps been around and I could have talked it out with her then I might have had someone put on the brakes. The decent into Stephen King-like madness in my own mind made perfect sense: I was not sick up throwing up every morning, couldn't remember my period and so came to the conclusion I was pregnant.
Panic.
I should point out too that the potential father was in New York and so my panic factor nudged itself up significantly. What to do? Call him? Wait? Send a text message and be passive aggressive and say "We have a situation"? So keep in mind with roommate and gentleman caller out of the picture I got a little unhinged for a few days.
Day four. I had an attack of sensibility come over me. I thought about my morning routine, my coffee, breakfast... Breakfast! Looked at the milk and lo and behold it had been there, uh, awhile. Yep, eating spoiled milk for four days, kids. But how could I not tell or taste it? It seems that my uber-healthy ancient grains and unprocessed cereal tends to turn the milk kind of funny, even when it's fresh. So I didn't notice and instead worked myself into a frenzy thinking I was playing host to a parasite with my partial DNA.
So the moral of the story: condoms, IUD, oral contraceptives, and a vascetomy are the best ways to ensure no pregnancy and check the dates on your milk every time you pour. Thus ends the lesson.
LMR 5/11/2010
SO...
It's been a sufficient time since the end of the last tour and now the end of the 5th Annual Vancouver International Burlesque Festival that I can start to function like a human being again and not the sparkle-driven whiskey-fuelled zombie I was. Who had great lashes. I think that after the Friday Sweet Soul show, when the lovely Evilyn assisted me with my magic act and having some twelve ounces of glitter dumped onto me and then find it's way into EVERY possible orifice on me (and apparently every crevice at the Rickshaw theatre which hosted the event) I have officially hit glitter rehab.
In order to combat this though, I'm getting back on the BJB horse again, dragging Bloody Betty out for some shows with me. It will be refreshing to do the BJB numbers again, even though after the last tour I had to go mute for awhile. When anyone asked me about tour I got this weird rictus on my face and told them it was too soon to discuss it. It sort of felt like a war and that I couldn't really talk about it. I still can't, come to that. All I will say is despite the fact that everyone came perilously closes to dying at everyone else's hands at lest twice in eight weeks, our body count remains at zero. But with the support of family and friends, I am coming around and I no long wake up having nightmares of being back in the Murderbus.
Some cool news, though. The Burlesque Hall Of Fame weekend in Las Vegas will have a large number of Vancouver performers representing there: Both Sweet Soul Burlesque and Screaming Chicken are up for Best Troupe and former Voodoo Dollz Burgundy Brixx, Lola Frost and Cherry On Top are up for Best Debut. I would say congrats, but I won't lie, it definitely makes our band look good (any myself exceptionally proud) to have had these amazing performers tour with us. It's also interesting to note that Jay Z wants Rihanna to be the face of a chain of 'burlesque clubs' he's looking to invest in. I'm guessing this will more than likely be a Pussycat Dolls-like school of burlesque and nothing that is either true to the old glamour or the avante guard performance art. But instead of getting mad about the idea, I think about this instead and smile. If this past tour and weekend were anything to go by, DIY artists who can pull out amazing shows out of nothingness, and legends like Judith Stein will help keep the art strong.
Worse comes to worse, if these clubs open then it may make air humping, crawling on hands and knees, and chair grinding socially acceptable when my peers have too much to drink (or too much glitter in their systems).
Now, to get dolled up and meet the boys to watch the Canucks game. Here's hoping Chicago's ass gets a spanking!
Mwuah!
Little Miss Risk 1/30/2010
Normally I like to throw out an odd little fact or piece of arcane trivia that no one except myself or crossword puzzlers would be interested in. Friday is usually when I like to do these things but as my Friday got away from me yesterday (which BJB swapping stereos at Casa De Risk and hoofing it to my tower in East Vancouver) it fell by the wayside. Now with the weekend ahead, I thought I'd share a strange little bit that you may have not previously appreciated...
"When English writer Thomas Hardy (1840 - 1928) died, his heart was kept apart when his body was cremated. The idea was to bury it in Stinford, England, the home of his beloved childhood church and his family's burial plot. All went according to plan until his sister's cat jumped up onto her kitchen table and snatched the heart and ran off into the woods with it."
Source: The Book Of The Bizarre, Varla Ventura
The moral of the story? Don't be late feeding the cat when your brother's earthly remains are on the kitchen table. For myself, I can think of at least several things that are wrong with that particular story (and I mean wrong as in demented, not inaccurate).
Enjoy your Saturday!
Little Miss Risk 1/21/2010
As we bid farewell to 2009 and bury it six feet under, we welcome in 2010 and our New Year's goal: to have more fun! Here's the new news... We've updated the band's website with a new look. Hmm... does that make anyone else crave a dose of medicine? http://www.bigjohnbates.comhttp://www.littlemissrisk.netUpcoming shows: Feb.5/10 4th Annual Voodoo Ball @ The Richshaw Theatre, Vancouver, BC An incredible line up featuring some of Vancouver's amazing burlesque talent as well as SWARM, Hank and Lily, BJB and a surprise guest! We have a North American spring tour and we're pleased to annouce for our US dates we have the fabulous Reverend Deadeye with us, aiming to save (or further damn) our souls. htp:// www.myspace.com/reverenddeadeyeUSA:
Feb 25 - Bellingham, WA @ Wild Buffalo
Feb 26 - Seattle, WA @ Studio 7
Feb 27 - Bremmerton, WA @ Winterland
Feb 28 - Portland @ Dante's
Mar 02 - Eureka, CA @ Nocturnum
Mar 03 - San Francisco, CA @ Thee Parkside
Mar 04 - Fresno, CA @ Audie's Olympic
Mar 05 - Bakersfield @ Fishlips
Mar 06 - Anaheim, CA @ Juke Joint
Mar 07 - Long Beach, CA @ Alex's Bar
Mar 12 - Phoenix, AZ @ Rogue West
Mar 13 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Burt's Tiki Lounge
Mar 14 - Denver, CO @ Casselman's
Mar 15 - McCook, NE @ Sport
Mar 16 - Manhattan, KS @ Kathouse
Mar 17 - Nathan P. Murphy's @ Springfield, MO
Mar 18 - Memphis, TN @ The Hightone w/ Memphis Belles
Mar 19 - Hot Springs, AR @ Maxine's w/ Memphis Belles
Mar 20 - Nashville, TN @ Matty's Alley
Mar 23 - Deland, FL @ DaVinci (Outdoor show)
Mar 26 - Satellite Beach, FL @ The Sports Page
Mar 27 - Bradenton, FL @ Distillery Tavern
Mar 28 - New Smyrna Beach, FL @ Beachside Tavern
Mar 31 - Charlotte, NC @ Snug Harbour
Apr 01 - Richmond, VA @ Playing Field
Apr 02 - Morgantown, WV @ 123 Pleasant Street
Apr 03 - Lafayette, IN @ Lafayette Brewing Co
Apr 04 - Cleveland, OH @ Now that's Class
CANADA:
Apr 05 - London, ON @ Call The Office
Apr 07 - Ottawa, ON @ Mavericks
Apr 08 - Montreal, QC @ L'Esco
Apr 09 - Toronto, ON @ The Horseshoe w/ White Cowbell
Apr 10 - Thunder Bay, ON @ Black Pirates Pub
Apr 12 - Winnipeg, MB @ The Pyramid
Apr 13 - Regina, SK@ The Gaslight
Apr 14 - Lethbridge, AB@ Henotic
Apr 15 - Edmonton, AB @ New City
Apr 16 - Calgary, AB @ The Distillery
Apr 17 - Kelowna, BC @ Doc's
Apr 18 - Kamloops, BC @ Dirty Jersey
If you have a podcast and would like to do a interview with Big John Bates and the Dollz for your show, drop me a line at tristan at frontmanrecords dot net and we'll hook something up!
Muchas smoochas!
Little Miss Risk
1/6/2010
Some people of a cynical nature might suggest that a bit of white washing is going down in regards to the Vanoc committee. It may be unfair to regard a private corporation who holds sway over a city as a bunch of insane corporate yahoos who’s only goal appears to be bankrupting the city for a one time shot at world re-known. If I wasn’t a lady, I’d probably say “Oh shit, the Olympics are coming – there goes the neighborhood.” But in trying to give the Vanoc peeps a fair crack at the benefit of a doubt, let’s face it… they are kind of shooting themselves (and a lot of other folks too) in the proverbial foot.
I live close to downtown. Which is going to be enforced that you can only walk, cycle or take transit. Normally, that might sound all Gibson-esque Utopian, but as a water locked city, that’s going to make it hard for a lot of locals to get around. Add on top of that the out-of-towners who will be descending on our fair city like a plague of locusts, and all of a sudden any and all public transit becomes a giant group grope. As much as I try to justify it, that just doesn’t sound appealing to me. I also can’t picture a shit ton of Olympic athletes and their respective entourages bringing their own bicycles. I think that the phrase “What the fuck were they thinking?” might suit this situation. But it gets a little more interesting…
Consider that the Vancouver Symphony refused the invitation to record music for the 2010 ceremonies (probably on the grounds that most of them can’t get to work because of the idiotic temporary traffic rules). What actually happened was they were asked to record the music but have VSO maestro Bramwell Tovey step aside and let someone else pantomime his movements for the games. Yeah… I don’t know of the mom’s of Vanoc’s committees are suitably embarrassed at their offspring yet, but I’m beginning to wonder where Vancouver’s theoretical federal mother is on this one.
I just have to wonder, since you would think if you have thirteen kids (or provinces and territories) and one is making the rest of the family look like damn fools, then wouldn’t the parental unit (or federal parental unit, as it were) come down and give them a cuff upside the head? And failing that, wouldn’t the rest of the family (or Commonwealth countries) start making remarks that would suitably embarrass the head into taking action? I don’t know.
I might no complain about this so strenuously if this kind of coin was dropped on arts funding, but then again the rampant commercialization would probably just wind up leaving a horrible bitter taste. So in lieu of that, I’ll take the taste of my green tea, try to get zen, and hope that all the athlete’s kneecaps painlessly pop off at once, thereby calling the whole deal off.
And I will go make some scones to try and get rid of that bitter taste in my mouth.
Namaste.
Little Miss Risk 12/21/2009So there I yesterday, in the kitchen, and one of Australia's most deadly critters came marching along the counter. This was my first encounter with aredback spider. I managed to trap it under some glass to take a photo of it, but as you can see, it was a harrowing experience...
Then, all of his buddies showed up. I think I must have disturbed a nest in the kitchen some where.
I was able to shoo them off of the counter and into my dad's lunch case. I'm sure that seeing ten redbacks looking up at him instead of the chicken curry he *thought* that he had packed will shock him, just a little.
Points to anyone that notes the David Bowie spider. He's my favorite. I hope he gets eaten last. Where when most people say that they are doing baking before Christmas, it usually means gingerbread, fruitcake or cookies. Not in my family. My mom and I go and make spider cupcakes... this is why my family is cooler than yours.
Little Miss Risk 12/16/2009It would seem that Australians, much like North Americans, when confronted by large expanses of space share one thing in common. They fill up the space either with really ugly big box stores, or they build large ridiculous roadside attractions. Then they fill up the space between the attractions and the box stores with gas stations and fast food restaurants. Actually the only place that they really do that is Canada and the USA, not so much the Aussies - yet.
While there is some debate as to which is the largest lobster in the world between the lobster in Shediac, NB and the one in Islamorada, FL (aka "Betsy") hands down the one in Australia wins. The Big Lobster sits at the northern entrance to Kingston in the South East of Australia and also has a cafe conveniently located underneath it. All in all, if I ever became obnoxiously wealthy (we're talking Bill Gates wealthy) I'd love to buy all three and possibly organize the world's first world's largest lobster swap. I'd probably increase the already stellar roadside attraction traffic, I'm sure. ( "Hey honey, look! It's Betsy, but she's in Kingston - Neat! Let's get a photo") I only know because when the band is on tour I'm the one tugging at sleeves saying "Oh can we please stop... there's the world's largest baseball bat over there!"
I'm sure all my European friends are shaking their heads at me. This is because space is at a premium in Europe and you can't walk 12km before running into someone's house, a town or a city of some kind. In the USA, Canada and Australia there is almost nothing but space, except in major urban centers where people would rather crush on top of one another rather than branching out. Please refer to the human density problem in Vancouver, Toronto and getting stuck in Seattle rush hour traffic. So these three powerful nations do what anyone does with extra space: we fill it up. I'm just pleased that we seem to opt for such goofy things like the world's largest Popcorn Ball (Iowa City, IA) and world's largest nickel (Sudbury, ON). The Aussies have elevated it to a new level though. They have the following spread across their vast sprawl:
The Big Banana (Coff's Harbor)
The Big Pinapple (Queensland)
The Big Buffalo (Dawin)
The Big Cow (Nambor)
The Big Elephants (Wollgoolga)
The Big Rocking Horse (Gumeracha)
The Big Koala (Victoria)
There's more too, which impresses me. I love how the Aussies call their attractions "Big" instead of "World's Largest" even though many of their attractions are quite larger than the "World's Largest". It's just the same as anytime we move into a larger apartment and all of a sudden we're confronted with this extra space and what to do with it. I think this makes me a contender in that respect for the world's largest dust bunny, but I doubt I can sell that as a tourist attraction to the 2010 Olympics crowd. But then again, they are also travelling that far to see people launch themselves off of ices chutes and to see millionaire beat the crap out of each other in ice skates, so why not try?
Little Miss Risk 12/15/2009I'm pretty sure only I can make friends in a foreign country this - by throwing up in a community swimming pool.
It's a terrible affliction I seem to have, or talent depending on how you look at it. I'm certain Jim Rose could probably make an act out of it but I can barf at the drop of a hat. Not always voluntarily. If my mother had been visited by some malicious sprite at my birth who gave me contradictory gifts: to have the bravado to eat and swallow nearly anything but also vomit at the slightest provocation.
Warning: I'm going to talk about barf a lot... Because I can and my ego is better than yours.
I had invited some interest in my situation from the other people after my arrival, coming only after the sun was totally down (the pool was outdoors) and I was wearing what has come to be referred to as the SPF 50burqa. A hooded shirt that hangs low, elbow length gloves, long tights, giant Olsen twin style sunglasses, and hot pink lipstick.
This, on its own was probably weird enough to draw people's stares from poolside, had my little gift not kicked in. After swimming a few lengths (I totally look like a dog when I swim. Also - the gift of looking like a dork in water) I deposited the contents of my stomach on the patio at the deep end. The response from the folks was touchingly immediate. They all stood at once and rushed forward, one kindly soul even bringing me a Fosters to drink, believing it would help. The kind and open matter that they patted my back, introduced themselves and cleaned away my mess was wonderful. I had misgivings about the Aussies being a little blunt and brash but here were the milk of human kindness helping me after I pulled my little trick.
Mind you, it must be said, after an actual swim, and a few cocktails with my new peeps, my faith in humanity was restored. And I daresay a few of them even reproduced my little parlour trick.
Cheers!
Little Miss Risk
PS: Oh yeah, it was BJB's birthday on Dec.11th. Same day that Betty Page died, though I don't hold him personally responsible. Anyone with any blackmail photos can email them to me for future reference. 12/9/2009There is a strange thing that happens when you travel to Australia, I've found. I left Vancouver on the first of December and arrived in Perth on the third. Somewhere over the Pacific, I travelled forward in time and completely lost a full 24 hours, probably somewhere over Jakarta.
It's interesting that this happens because it all has to do with crossing the international dateline, because there is a point on the globe where one day starts and so it has to finish. It doesn't really change the fact that some of us being scientific romanticists are looking at it as travelling backwards/forwards in time.
The inside of a time machine?
So while your losing a day, and not just to the time it takes to get to Australia, your also doing it with an airplane full of other people. I used to think the idea of moving backwards and forwards in time to be a little more interesting instead of seeing people waiting in line to empty their bowels, hassling the flight attendants, and failing to keep their offspring contained and quiet (seriously, you can't have pets in the cabins but kids are allowed?). So while you're trying to figure out how to sneeze copiously on the person wearing the H1N1/SARS mask, you are being moved back and forth through theoretical time. I would have liked to have gone further back in time, had the option been available, but our time-travel technology has only progressed so far to doing on a 24 hour basis. Kind of like the way we have genetic cloning up to a point, but I still can't have an identical copy of myself made that I can pass off as my 'evil' twin.
It's not less unsettling to talk to someone in the northwest hemisphere and realize that they are talking to someone in the future and your, technically, talking to someone in the past. It's all kind of disturbing. Kind of like when you start to think about "perfect" numbers and, how the smallest is 6 but the next one is 28.
Oops, looks like I broke my own reality again...
My head hurts. Time to go throw some bread to the wild parrots.
Little Miss Risk
I am in love.
It doesn't matter that he's a cold-hearted reptile, he's affectionate to me, cuddly and has this long, long tounge... Of course I'm totally getting ahead of myself. I'm in love with a resident Bobtail Lizard atthe Kanyana Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. My mother is a volunteer and helps to give presentations to school children on the native fauna which includes long-term residents at Kanyana. The general aim of the center is to take in injured wildlife and get them well again and ready to re-enter the wild. However there are some who live there due to the fact that their either are too badly in need of constant care or too dependant on humans to be able to live properly in the wild.
So how did I fall for the Bobtail? Two of them live in one of the enclosures and as I cuddled this little armoured fellow, he went on a quest for the warm. Little did he know he was about to hit the overheating jackpot. Not only was he getting cuddled by a Canadian who was desperately unused to the Aussie summer heat, but she was wearing two layers AND long sleeves on her shirt to keep the sun off her albino skin. Bonus! So he had himself more or less his own heat blanket. It was hard to give him back to his enclosure mate who was peeping (thinking that he was getting some kind of food that she wasn't) but rationality won out. It was going to be too hard to smuggle the little fellow back to Canada and too cold for his heat-loving heart to bear. He would have wound up peeping a phrase that wouldn't sound unlike a very small "Fuck off!"
I also made the acquaintance to two Tawny Frogmouths, who are little tree owls. Okay, okay, I know they aren't ACTUAL owls, but they do a darn good impression with their giant bright yellow eyes and appetite for mice. They are adorable, and I had to be prized away from the two of them.
I got to meet one of the endangered residents, Boodie. This little guy was all curled up and refused to move his head out from under his towel to look at me due to the bright sunlight. He's a Bilby and where once these little charmers nearly overrun Australia, they are now estimated to be extinct in less than ten years. The best hope they have is to be a captive breed, but between the feral cats and the mining companies *cough cough* who are stripping them out of their habitat they haven't got a snowball's chance in hell. I nominate letting them use my apartment as a breeding ground/habitat, but the idea of having to shake the Bilbys out of my costumes, hats, and pantyhose and so on is a little daunting. Of course, if I could train them to do some dancing and be entertaining the Aussie government may find some funding in their pockets for a protected area... They'd have to wear tiny little hats, though.
Until that time, Kanyana is doing a really wonderful job. If you're looking for one of those "eco-friendly" Christmas gifts, then you can sponsor an animal for someone... All the info on the center is here and you can see how cute these little buggers are for yourself. Photos of myself and above critters to follow.
Namaste.
Little Miss Risk |
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