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Rattlin my muck…

Ok, that was joy.

Went and gave the new shoes a whirly last night at Pelly’s open mic, and boy was that fun! Now I have a really good reason to quit smoking… and next time I’m bringing water onstage…. THIRST!

Oddly enough I felt no extreme emotions over the thing, with the exception of the elation… what an adrenaline rush. The BMR boys love what they do so much, it was the easiest thing I’ve ever done. Like a hot knife through butter.

Now onto better things, I’ve a standing invite to tap for them boys, and although I did great, I listened to the tape this morning :) My thanks to Alison for her camera expertise…. that was also joy, I love the camera, but having it in my hand all the time leaves me out of the picture… Although the lighting sucked and we can’t really see me, we hear me just fine thank you very much, and now I’m counting the number of beats I missed…

And going through the basics…. I wasn’t sore at all this morning so I set out to practicing again… although it bores the shit out of me to repeat the exact same movement over and over and over again… the fun part is, once you get the basics down pat… the rest just happens.

Like last night. It just worked. Errors and all I suppose, but me has to learn another beat than horse gallop… So I ran myself through some new moves this morning too…

I dunno…. I’m having so much fun it’s hard to remember being the me I was just three months ago, sticking forks in herself… then the three months before that stuck in a cubicle, and then the three months before that being the biggest soul stealing groupie on the planet, and then the three months before that…. losing my mom.

I’ve thought alot about my mom during the holidays, but not in a mournful way. At first I thought that perhaps I should be feeling mournful, this being my first holiday season without her, and then I would remember those moments last Christmas, the separation during the holidays, her words “I love you” being her biggest gift to me. I wrote about it, and I can still hear her voice saying them if I allow myself to.

So now all these months later, I am T, Tamara, Tappity Tappin on a Tuesday Twilight, tenaciously tipping the tide to temerity.

I felt more myself last night than I ever have. Knowing all that I know about myself, that feels pretty damned good.

It also feels pretty damned good to hear that the entertainment at the Atria is considered “real” as opposed to the “lame” at Reilly’s down the street. She may not have brass taps, but it’s true… and I didn’t even say it, I heard that last night from a guy who waltzed into Atria from Reilly’s and had never been there before. He watched a micless open mic…and had fun.

I can’t wait till next Pelly night…. I just can’t wait.

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