Tag Archives: puppies

murphy’s law – the waterfire edition

the last waterfire was definitely my most stressful ever. it started with the weather. more threats of thunderstorms, to which i said, “FUCK YOU NATURE, I’M BUSKING TONIGHT.”

i arrived in providence just after 5:00, aiming to begin at 5:30. that didn’t happen. despite taking my usual precautionary claritin, my eyes caught enough glare from the sun and enough wind to start watering as i was doing my final preparations in the parking lot. i gave up on trying to fix my makeup and figured if i left my eye alone it’d be fine by the time i arrived at my pitch. but the wind was picking up, my eye was gushing, makeup streaming down my face refusing to be fixed. ducked behind the building across the street to try finding some relief from the wind, waiting it out. tents and trash bins were beginning to get tossed around. mike, one of the waterfire staff folks, is bouncing between chatting with us and chasing down the stuff being tossed around in the wind. shit was looking pretty grim.

it wasn’t until 7:00 or so that i returned to my pitch. my eye was still watering some, but it had settled down enough, and it was late enough, that i didn’t care much anymore about whether or not my makeup was pristine. i just needed to get out there and perform. i was hoping it would be one of those awesome waterfire nights filled with cool people. alas, ’twas not one of those nights. by the time i settled into statue mode, i was in a pretty foul mood. i had a decent start, but the downward spiral of jackassery was in full swing in by the time the fires were being lit.

the most noteworthy douchebag of the evening, i’m sad to say, was a little boy who couldn’t have been more than four years old. i went three rounds with this kid over the course of my four hour performance. round one, he ran up to grab at my legs. instinctively, i shot down to grab both of his arms and held on tight. he’s laughing and cackling, “HA! YOU’RE NOT A STATUE! YOU’RE A GIRL!” i let go, hoping that momentum would take over and the force of him trying to pull away from me would send him flying backwards to fall on his ass as soon as i released him. unfortunately, someone was standing behind him, blocking his path to blood spatter. he did not hit the pavement. he continued taunting me for a while. i chose to ignore him and return my focus to the rest of the crowd. he disappeared, but not for long. he was back about an hour later, shrieking a steady stream of “I’M ON TO YOU” exclamations sprinkled with laughter, lunging toward me threatening to grab me again. his fat fuck of a father had plopped his ass down on the wall just off to my right. i glared at him, pointed at the boy, and gestured to get him the fuck out of my face. no response. i turned toward him more, folded my arms, and stared into his eyes with the burning hatred of a thousand suns. he got the message eventually and pulled the boy away. he returned soon after, with his fat fuck of a father nowhere to be seen. i was reaching my breaking point. never in my life have i so badly wanted to kick a child full force square in the face. if he’d been fourteen, or forty, this all would have ended after the first grab. i would have been able to properly defend myself and ensure no return visits. but how am i supposed to defend myself against a child? i can’t use physical force. that sort of thing is frowned upon. what would i tell a cop? “this tiny creature is harrassing me and i’d like you to arrest him.” yea, right. all i can realistically do is pray that this boy dies in a fire before he has the opportunity to become a true menace to society.

on top of the trials and tribulations of dealing with the epitomy of brattiness, i had costuming issues, which is something i shouldn’t still be dealing with after eight years of busking. i wore the wig i’d just bought, which turned out to be a mistake. it’s too long, too straight and thick, the fibers too soft and prone to tangling in the slightest breeze. i’ve ordered another wig, much more like the old one, feathered and messy in style, but longer over the back of the neck where caked makeup tends to tangle the fibers and makes the shorter styles stick out in a funky unpretty flip. but the one i wore that night, ugh. in addition to being a hot mess from all the wind, it gave me a blinders effect – my peripheral vision was so limited. i’m grateful that no one snuck up on my side. lessons learned.

overall, though, i have to say that my performance time was decent enough. i had lots of hand-holding moments with sweet doe-eyed children. i startled some folks coming up to pose for photos with me. i’ll never tire of the jumps and shrieks. i got to hold a toy pomeranian who was fully grown and approximately the same size as my chinchilla. the cute was overwhelming. andrew anselmo came to visit me late in the evening with a dollar bill origami pinwheel and a sign he held up to my crowd that said “best statue ever”. aw, shucks. wyatt and his daughter came with me, and there were unexpected visits from my brother and some friends. thank baby jesus for the friendly faces in my crowd. i might not have survived the evening without them.

we won’t talk about the world’s most obnoxious drunks who absolutely would not leave me alone post-performance while wyatt’s daughter and i were chatting, waiting for him to bring us some indian food. i think i’ve ranted enough for one post.


october warmth

usually, october waterfires are cold and miserable. if i’m dumb enough to try to busk, i’m forced to step down after an hour or two at most, muscles shivering and joints locking up. but not this year. i’d bought a warm underlayer and a scarf, brought extra gloves and shirts, and didn’t need them at all. i performed for four hours without breaks. i don’t know where all this stamina is coming from, but i’m grateful to have had it this season.

– from the start, i was plagued by vendors who sell plastic crap that lights up and blinks and costs eight cents to make and eight dollars to purchase.  they were all over my area, much more persistent than usual, using the glora gemma breast cancer awareness theme of waterfire to sell pink shit to anyone dumb enough to buy it. i sent wyatt to chase a couple away because they were unreasonably close to me. i stepped down to tell one to stay away from my pitch. but whenever one left, another came in to take their place. it amazes me that there are so many at waterfire, considering how much barnaby and the entire waterfire staff hates them, and the cops hate them, and most of the non-parent people who attend waterfire hate them. can’t you leeches go make a buck elsewhere? how can you care so little about the vibe of an event? i want to grab each one of them by the shoulders and shake them.


there was another dog that walked towards me earlier in the evening, but as i knelt down to see if he’d let me pet him, he gave me a rather dramatic “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” look and promptly backed away from me. sorry, puppy! i did not mean to scare you. i just wanted to say hi.

– a few people, when talking about me to their companions, referred to me as male. one guy was particularly persistent about it. i know i don’t have D cups or anything, but, seriously?

+ one of my favorite things that happens within my crowds is adults giving money to children they don’t know so they can make the statue come to life. i see this happen a handful of times every busking season. it’s refreshing and heartwarming to see that kind of spontaneous generosity, to see grownups understanding and appreciating the importance of the magic between a child and the statue.

+ love this little girl.

+ i ended the night perfectly. there was a little boy, as tall as my tip jar and just old enough to be able to walk independently, staring with the slightest hint of awe in his eyes. i knelt down and extended my hand. he ran to his father. i waited patiently. his father very gently encouraged him to approach me. there was no force, no pressure, only reassurance. i watched the boy as he made his decision. holding his father’s hand, the anchor that would keep him safe, he stepped toward me. as he moved closer, he forgot all about his anchor, and put his little hand in mine. he and his slightly older sister were each given some money to put in my tip jar. their faces lit up as i blew them kisses. their father thanked me, quietly, sweetly, repeatedly. i want to extend my most heartfelt thanks to you, sir, for being the kind of person that helps make street performance the anchor for my soul.

waterfire has gone bananas.

the bananagram bananaganza. quite possibly the most interesting waterfire i’ve ever busked. kids walking around in bananagram suits, banana-themed music [i was very happy to hear day-o], the bananagrams car [which i was given a ride in, hopefully photos will be coming soon], all kinds of craziness.

– people are never, ever, ever funny when they think they’re being funny.

+ overwhelmingly adorable kids. i held two little ones for photos, and they did not cry! others played with my outstretched hand, some tried to touch my face [which i had to intercept just for the safety of my makeup and wig, but damn, so cute], and i got some hugs. i was also visited by my #1 fan. the last time i saw her was… september? the first time she came over, i almost didn’t recognize her with my wig all up in my face, but i realized who i was looking at when i bent down to blow a kiss. second time around, i made up for it, and gave her a kiss on the nose. i remember you. i’ve been watching you get taller, look older, but your eyes never change. i hope to see that same sparkle of magic in your eyes for many years to come.

– i started having some problems maintaining my space. i’ll invite kids to come up onto my ledge for photos, but if you’re over the age of ten, please keep your feet on the ground. you’re plenty tall enough to be seen in the picture with me. there is absolutely no reason for you to be up on my ledge. it’s amazing that people are so slow get the message when my hand is planted firmly on their shoulder the second i see them thinking about climbing up next to me. they keep pushing against my hand for a few seconds before realizing they’re supposed to stay on the ground. or, if i can’t catch them before they lift a foot, they’ll get all indignant about me shoving them back down. don’t give me a fucking attitude when i defend my personal space, you self-centered twat. i will slap the stupid right out of you.

+ MORE PUPPIES! two were brought up to me. i don’t know if y’all are bringing your dogs to me because you read my blog, or you see my reactions to dogs while i’m performing, or if it’s just a big awesome coincidence. either way, i’m lovin’ it.

+ gifts! george brought me another bouquet of carnations, as well as photo prints. sir turner gave me a print of one of the photos he emailed me a while back. of course, andrew anselmo [who had a terrible terrible night, poor dear, so you should go show him some serious love at the next waterfire] gave me a $2 bill folded into a little bowtie. and long after i’d finished busking for the night, while i was hanging out at my pitch with some friends who had come to visit me, a teenage boy gave me a carnation. so sweet.

– james stopped by to say hello. james is one of the most irritating fans i’ve ever had. very clingy, very tedious. after an inappropriate conversation he had with my mother the first time she ever came out to see me perform, i lost all patience for him, and let him know it. i hadn’t seen him since. until saturday. i hope this is not the sign of a triumphant return, because i really don’t need to deal with such dolts anymore. it’s such a difficult line to walk, the line between being friendly to my audience without trapping myself into polite-but-unwanted interactions.

-/+ while i was gobbling up some indian food and hanging out with my friends, this woman started barking at me to get up and do my thing so she could see it and get a picture. i kept telling her no, i’d performed for four hours, i was done for the night, come back next waterfire, take pictures when i’m performing. but she kept holding up her camera. so i held up my hand to block the view. she kept barking at me. i don’t even know how many times i told her that i was not going to pose for a photo and she should just come back next waterfire. finally she accepted the fact that she was not going to get her picture. but before she left, she said i should stop eating so i don’t get fat. wtf? so rude, so baffling, so oddly hilarious.

listen to the music.

i thoroughly enjoy it when the rhode island philharmonic orchestra plays at waterfire. they pump the music throughout the canal, which means i get to hear it even though i’m nowhere near the orchestra. such a wonderful change from the usual playlists [that are getting a little too heavy on the opera, in my humble statue opinion]. the problem, though, is that everyone’s watching the orchestra, and my crowd is thinner as a result. still, it was a lovely evening.

– very early on, i had a group of teenage boys off to my right, and as they talked amongst themselves, every so often i would hear things like “no, you do it!” i kept an eye on them, waiting for them to do something completely douchey. they huddled there for so long, never doing anything, just arguing about who should do whatever it was they were talking about. i didn’t know what they were talking about, but i knew it involved me. they freaked out every time i looked at them. it was very stressful and it turned out to be nothing. they just tipped and left. suggestion: if you don’t want the statue to stare at you suspiciously, then don’t fucking be suspicious. dumbasses.

+ an exceptionally sweet gentleman, who also saw me last summer, tipped me  a couple times. and gave me a small bouquet of carnations. not the carnations that everyone at waterfire gets for free because of michael grando’s performance. no. he went and bought flowers for me. he also gave me his phone number, which is something i really don’t understand. why do people do that? either way, i have pretty flowers sitting on my windowsill. that’s the important thing.

– a little boy, maybe 5 or so, walked up to investigate my tip jar, obviously not realizing that there was a person standing above the jar. so he’s leaning over and looking in. not a big deal. then he bends down and sticks his entire arm into the jar. fucking unacceptable. i shot my hand down and grabbed his shoulder with what was probably a little too much force, but fuck damn, kid needed to learn to not touch shit that doesn’t belong to him. and obviously his parents weren’t going to be the ones to teach him that lesson. his father was just standing there laughing. asshole. the boy looked up at me with this mix of surprise and fear and indignation. i removed my hand, he pulled his arm out of the jar, and walked away clutching his shoulder not knowing whether he should be upset or if he should just accept the consequences. he was quiet, so i guess he decided on the latter.

+ the best hug ever. this adorable little girl walked up, tipped me, and before i could get into the motion of blowing her a kiss, she had her tiny arms wrapped around my legs. so, of course, i knelt down for a proper hug. words cannot describe what it feels like to be on the receiving end of such a quiet and spontaneous gesture of adoration. the crowd disappears. in that moment, it’s just me and the child.

+ MORE PUPPIES! had the cutest little dachshund ever thrust into my arms. he tried to give me kisses. i do so appreciate the sentiment, and i am usually one of those looney dog lovers that allows face-licking, but not when my face is covered in makeup. later, this woman brought up her yellow lab. she had him jump up onto my ledge and lie down for a photo. he was so calm and friendly and well-behaved. kudos, m’lady. you have done a beautiful job training your dog.

– had to flip off a boy who, after seeing a small child who didn’t know any better try to poke me, decided he would pretend he also didn’t know any better. but because he did know better, he approached from the far right side of my ledge, so i didn’t see him coming, and he took off running back to his buddies as soon as he made contact. i had no opportunity to slap him. still, a middle finger is, surprisingly, a great crowd pleaser, and sometimes an effective way to send a message. i guess it was effective this time, because i didn’t see or hear him again.

+ scared the bejeezus out of a man who reached out to touch my hand, not realizing it belonged to a person. i moved my hand for my usual “i don’t fucking think so” gesture, and he shouted, leaped, and ran a few strides before turning around to be like “wtf was that?!” i almost giggled at that one.

+ when i came home and emptied out my tip jar, i found no trash, no religious bullshit, none of my own business cards, no sticks or leaves or pebbles. only money. i think that’s a first.

waterfire masochism

either i’m getting better at this whole busking thing, or i’m really just crazy. i started at 5:30pm and stopped at 10:15pm. i did not take any breaks. if i’d known it was going to be so damn busy [i suppose i should’ve known, being a ballroom night and all], i would’ve started a little later. the crowds were still bustling at 10, but i very reluctantly accepted the fact that i had to get down for the sake of self-preservation. my knees can only take so much standing-on-concrete abuse.

+ i had THREE dog encounters. a little dachshund that was brought up onto my ledge to say hello, a large poodle-type dog that was surprised but curious when i came to life, and a tiny little chihuahua wearing a purple lei was thrust into my arms. i love love love dogs, and these encounters always make me happy.

– lots of pokes. most of them were tiny children who really didn’t know any better when they put their hand on my shoe. one adult, who really should have known better, but the sound of my hand hitting his arm was oh so satisfying. then a young girl who definitely knew better, because she bolted right after she poked me. i tried to chase her down, but she was moving too fast [never even looked back, little bitch], and without an assistant i can’t leave my tip jar unattended so i was forced to abandon the chase.

+ lots of very positive baby and toddler interactions. the line between scared and happy is so fine, but i’m learning how to sway them toward the latter more often than the former. major props to the quietly encouraging parents/guardians who let children approach the weird statue lady on their own terms instead of trying to force interaction.

– had to put quite a bit of effort into maintaining my personal space. people really need to stop jumping up onto my ledge to pose for photos. the camera will see both you and me if you stay on the ground. i promise.

+ i’m getting pretty good at reaching out to block people after they’ve gotten a foot up on the ledge but before they fully land and find their balance, sending them back down to the ground with minimal effort.

+ at the end of the night, when my energy was really starting to dwindle, i had the most wonderful group of enthusiastic people in my crowd. once they figured out what my act was all about, they turned into my own little advertising team. someone new would walk by and i’d hear a chorus of “put a dollar in the jar and see what happens! go pose for a picture with her and see what happens!” it was beyond cute.

– while i was dumping out my tip jar on my living room floor, i found a note. it’s officially the dumbest note i’ve ever pulled out of my tip jar in seven years of busking. i’m going to frame it and add it to the collection.

“just a suggestion put some color on your hair as contrast it would look much better. good job!”

let’s take a moment to break this shit down. any time you tell an artist anything that begins with “just a suggestion”, and your criticism is uninvited and scribbled on an anonymous note, you’re being a bit of a twat. when i want your suggestions, i’ll ask for them. well, maybe not your suggestions, specifically, since you seem to have completely missed the point of living statuary. i’m trying to, y’know, look kind of like a statue. hence the head-to-toe whiteness. and the standing still. like a statue.

also, tacking on a “good job!” doesn’t really make you any less of a dumb twat. nice try, though.

“there’s a lot of weirdos around here!”

waterfire. much better crowd than the last holiday weekend, thankfully. i guess more people stay home for the fourth so they can see their own city’s fireworks? whatever the reason, i’m grateful for it. i did four hours, with one break that was just long enough to get some water and get right back up again. apparently i’ve become a glutton for pain. but it pays off in the end. no pun intended.

– i was hassled by a persistently stupid sailor boy early in the evening. i generally don’t cut people much slack when they start off being a douchebag then try to be nice to make up for it, but this is especially true for douchebags in uniform. thankfully, his buddy was very sweet, so dealing with the pair was a balanced experience.

+ here are some of my favorite little girls from the evening. the one with curly blonde hair was very shy, but she and her mom came over to chat with me at the end of the night, and she is just precious. her mom said “we’ve been waiting all year to see you!” aw, shucks.

– it was motherfuckin’ windy in providence. for the first couple of hours, i was having trouble staying steady on my feet. i kept swaying in the wind. so annoying.

+ there was this unbelievably adorable little boy who i really really wish had been caught on camera. he came up to put a dollar in my jar and pose with me for a photo, and was comfortable enough with the statue lady for me to lift him up onto my ledge for the photo. but after the photo was taken, i bent down to kiss his forehead, and apparently i crossed the not-scary/scary line. he shrieked and scrambled away.

– i was grabbed and poked at a few times.
+ i successfully grabbed or slapped them all.
– one girl jumped up onto my ledge to pose with me for a photo, which is something i’m not comfortable with people doing unless i explicitly invite them up, and even then i prefer it just be small children.
++ before she had fully landed on the ledge, i reached out and very successfully clotheslined her. don’t invade the personal space of the ninja statue.

– this dumbass teenage girl came up and tried to take the blue glow necklace someone had given me earlier. i’d put it around the neck of my tip jar [this is especially handy when it gets dark and people are more likely to walk right into the 32″ tall white vase], and she reached for it, looking up at me asking “can i have this? do you want it? no? okay i’m gonna take it.” i had to reach down and physically shoo her away.
+++ but then, much to my surprise and delight, a gentleman from the back of my crowd walked up and started to lecture her! and he’s doing it the same way i would do it, saying if she wouldn’t do something like that to just anyone on the street, why would she do it to a performer? kind sir, if you are reading this, i want you to know that you’re amazing. THANK YOU. very very few people stand up to the douchebags in my crowds. i wish there were more people like you around.

plymouth on monday was not quite as enjoyable as waterfire. i fully intended to do three hours, but got down after an hour and a half and decided to not get back up again. i was too tired and sore, and the crowd was too slow for me to maintain whatever momentum i had left. still, overall i’m glad i went.

+ my favorite thing about plymouth is adorable children. i had a very positive encounter with a baby. his father brought him up to say hello, and when i put out my hand, he reached out to grab it. i saw a big grin peeking out from behind his pascifier. he held on tight to my fingers for a solid minute. my heart, it melts.


– remember the most obnoxious kid in the world from last year’s fourth in plymouth? yea. he was there again. he didn’t do anything overtly obnoxious this time, but he was sitting on the benches next to me with a couple of his friends, whining incessantly. “oh my god, she yelled at me last year! she’s so mean! SHE YELLED AT ME!!! she’s so creepy! SHE YELLED AT ME LAST YEAR!!!” apparently, all this kid wants in life is to be a victim. he spends so much time whining and crying and desperately seeking pity. the great thing is, nobody’s giving him any. i have listened to him repeat the same sentences literally dozens of times to the same person, and they never have a response. so you really think you’re the victim here, huh? why don’t you explain to your friends WHY i yelled at you, and see how much pity you’ll get from them then. whiny little bitch. i bet he’ll be a real charmer in adulthood.

– i had another bratty young boy who kept blowing one of those stupid plastic horns at me. after the tenth time or so, i’d had enough.

+ the “step down, loom, and stare” tactic seems to be very effective. i wish the video captured the look on the kid’s face. the determination to avoid eye contact. the awkward, uncomfortable laugh. oh, it was wonderful, i assure you.

another year, another waterfire.

i can’t believe how quickly summer snuck up on me. regardless, i was much more prepared for waterfire this year than i ever have been before. no searches for costume pieces. no last minute scrambling to buy makeup or spraypaint or business cards. it felt a little strange to not be stressed about the beginning of busking season. nice, but weird.

the weather was perfect. the flow of the crowd was a little slow, but steady. i ended up doing a solid four hour shift with no breaks, first time i’ve ever statued for more than two hours straight. part of it was because i stupidly left my water bottle in the car and didn’t have anyone to fetch it for me. part of it was because i was just feelin’ it.

+ oh, the children. one little girl, brought onto my ledge by her father who wanted a picture, was so unsure at first. but i just gently reached my hand toward her and let her come to me. she came up again later, and this time did not hesitate to touch my hand. i seem to have figured out how to convince the little ones that i am, indeed, not a child-eating monster.

+ another young girl brought her dog up to see me. looked like a poodle cross of some sort. i reached down to pet it. my glove was very enthusiastically licked. down side: my right hand smelled like a dog the rest of the night. oh well. the cute was worth it.

– the douchebaggery ran the gamut. my hand was grabbed twice. the first time was a large slow-moving man, and i slapped his hand. the sound of it was satisfying. the second was a young woman who took off before i could grab her, so i waited for her to turn and look back [they usually do] and flipped her off. i had to shove a guy off my ledge when he jumped up to pose next to me, too close for comfort. a young boy kept getting too close and waving his hands at my face, which i eventually handled by stepping down towards him, though i think his friend was more nervous about it than he was. still, it’s an effective method of telling someone they need to back the fuck off. the worst of the evening, though, was a group of young teenage girls. standing in a line blocking my tip jar, spewing stupidity all over the place, trying to make me laugh, trying to insult me, etc. i brought my finger to my lips to shush them. that was successful for approximately ten seconds. they inched closer. i waved my hands at them, motioning them to back away. no response. so, i stepped down, right into the heart of the group. they screamed and scattered. i didn’t see them again the rest of the night.

+ i was visted by several loved ones. my brother, a few friends, my ten31 bosses and a few others from the crew, and, of course, mister anselmo made his usual pre-performance stop to say hello. waterfire is that much more enjoyable when familiar faces pop up in a sea of strangers.

+ when i finally stepped down at 10:00, i hung around at my pitch for a while, chatting with friends and allowing my knees to recover before walking back to my car. our conversations were interrupted several times by some very kind folks wanting to say hello, tell me how much they enjoyed my performance, pose for photos, and drop a dollar into my tip jar. it was the most overwhelmingly sweet post-performance crowd i’ve ever dealt with. usually at the end of the night people are just shoving their cameras in my face while i’m trying to eat and hydrate and stretch and relax a moment before heading home. it’s nice to be reminded that people are capable of being sweet and polite.

second waterfire is tomorrow. despite the mountain of work i have to do at home [spring cleaning is a bitch and a half, especially if you haven’t done it in a few springs] i am thoroughly excited and eager to get back to the streets of providence. when the winters drag on forever, i sometimes forget that summer is made of awesomeness.

the end of the busking season draws near.

the waterfire schedule has been somewhat sparse over the last couple of years, due to the economy and lack of funds. it saddens me that, as i feel like i’ve really settled into my art and i’m finally starting to do it right, my favorite busking opportunities are becoming few and far between. but, i’m cherishing every moment, good or bad. looks like my last waterfire will be on the 25th, if i can acquire some warmer clothing by then.

– new england’s transitions from summer to autumn are way too drastic and abrupt. it was so cold! i had on all the layers i could squeeze in without destroying the sleek look of lily. i would’ve tried to put in another hour if my joints weren’t frozen and locking up painfully.

+ i got some serious love from the sweetest beagle puppy in the universe. the owners handed him to me to hold for a photo, and he gave me lots of puppy kisses. cuteness overload. it was impossible to be annoyed that he licked my chin and i had to get down to fix my makeup when the family left.

+ i held a baby, and for the first time ever, it did not result in a crying fit! sometimes it’s okay to touch them while mommy or daddy hold them, but i’ve never been able to actually hold a baby without them being very unhappy about it. not only was this little tyke not afraid of me, he kept trying to grab my face and wig. adorable.

– some particularly persistent teenage douchebags were really pushing their luck. you say something stupid, reach out to grab me, i move to block it, and you’re still going to threaten to touch me? really? probably the same kinds of kids who think it’s funny to poke an injured and dying animal with a stick and watch it get pissed off. you keep on prodding. eventually you’ll get bit.

+ generally, though, there was lots of love from teenagers. there were a couple groups that kept coming up to get their photo taken with me over and over again. it’s nice to be reminded that highschool kids aren’t always disrespectful dingbats.

– it’s amazing how many people put their money in the box that holds my business cards. let’s think about this for a moment. directly in front of me is a big white vase with a dollar bill taped to the front of it. the vase is elevated by a hat box that holds my makeup, drink, etc. the whole thing put together stands twenty-five inches tall. the box that holds my business cards, which sits on the ground, is… one inch tall. anyone who stands in my audience and watches me for five minutes will likely see between two and ten people drop money into the big white vase with the dollar bill taped to the front of it. so, gee, i wonder where you should put your dollar?

-/+ my brother came to keep me company, and he actually had to act as my guard dog for the first time [that i’ve witnessed, anyway]. this guy got all up in my face repeatedly saying something to the effect of “are you a mannequin?” my darling brother, who is about a third the size of this guy, walked right up and convinced him to leave in a way that almost made me break into a gigglefit.

brother: go.
douchebag: where?
brother: away.
douchebag: why?
brother: because!

the guy walked away without saying another word. brilliant.

+ training the next generation of living statues.

like a firecracker on july the fourth.

surprisingly and stupidly, considering the fact that i’ve been busking in plymouth on and off for about five years, it was the first time i’ve tried busking down there on the fourth. i should’ve been doing this all along. wonderful atmosphere, the waterfront streets were blocked off solely due to the number of people walking around, and my pitch was clear and waiting for me. according a friend whose family has spent the fourth in plymouth before, there weren’t as many people there as there normally would be at 5:00ish. but considering the fact that it was awfully hot, i’m not surprised the crowds were a little late to show up. hell, i was late to show up, too. this summer is being gross. regardless, it was a lovely evening.

+ my makeup miraculously remained fairly well intact despite the initial heat and humidity [thankfully it cooled down a bit not too long after i started]. i’m pretty impressed with the durability of this new makeup system i’ve got.

+ adorable children improve my quality of life by a thousand million percent.

+ there were cannons going off every hour or so, which gave me the perfect opportunity to show off my mad statue skillz. i never reacted to any of the big booms. my onlookers, once they recovered from being startled, were impressed.

+ my aforementioned friend’s family came to see me perform for the first time, after hearing about me for a couple of years and seeing my youtube videos. they showered me with so much love i felt as though i might burst. and they took what must be one of the cutest photos ever when they brought their tiny fluffy dog that looked like a teddy bear over to me and allowed me to hold him. aw!

+ i really like the base my dad made for me. it’s perfect for plymouth. high enough for me to be at least kind of above the crowd, but low enough [and wide enough] that i can easily invite small children up onto it to pose for photos. and what a difference it makes in the audience experience. i so greatly prefer posing for photos with people, rather than having them simply stand in front of me. i want it to be interactive and fun and personal.

+ lots of people took business cards. hello, new readers! send me your photos!

– douchebag teenagers piss me off. dealing with douchebags of all ages is pretty much a standard part of being a street performer, especially of the living statue variety. but teenagers seem to be much more persistent with their douchebaggery than any other age category.

teenage douchebag #1 was doing anything he possibly could to become the center of attention. incessantly waving at me, saying any stupid little thing that came into his head, trying to mimic my poses while standing in a place that blocked everyone else from getting to my tip jar, etc. he tried to pester me when i got down for my first break. his douchebaggery continued, and worsened, during my second shift. i flipped him off, and he made a point to be very loudly “offended”. but he persisted. i tried intimidating him into shutting the fuck up by occasionally choosing a pose that would allow me to stare him down, but that just fanned the fires. wyatt tried intimidating him into leaving, which worked only temporarily. so, when i got down for my second break, i went over to the stone wall where he and his friends were sitting and joking about stealing my tip jar. i told them to shut up and leave or i would have them removed, they’re not fucking funny, i’m trying to make a fucking living over here. they muttered some halfassed apologies accompanied by terrified looks, and they left. as i returned to my base to have a bit of a rest, one of the firemen who had been watching me asked if the kids were bothering me. no, they won’t be bothering me anymore. but thank you, oh, thank you so much for being protective of me.

teenage douchebag #2 didn’t last as long as #1. i was officially done putting up with any bullshit from anyone. he got all up in my face, waving like an idiot, blocking my tip jar. his friends are not as stupid and douchebaggy as he is. one of them was kind enough to drop a dollar into my tip jar, and after blowing him a kiss, i settled into a pose with my hands on my hips, staring at the douchebag. he backed off for a moment, but quickly returned to his moronic display. i stepped down from my base toward him, maintaining eye contact, and stood there on the ground staring at him. apparently that was a bit too much for him to handle. he made a quick exit, and i returned to my base as if nothing happened.

+ but, seriously, it was a great night overall. i’m hoping to spend a lot of time busking in plymouth this summer. if it’ll ever cool down enough to comfortably do so, that is!