This morning I spent a good three minutes standing in the bathroom, staring at my pink Schick Quattro razor trying to remember how to change the blade. Not because I just got this razor, mind you (I’ve had it since my senior year of college when then marking folks over at Schick Quattro decided to start giving away razors for FREE on campuses across America, the only catch being that you then had to then buy the replacement blades yourself…) but because today is the third and final day of the Philly Tap Challenge.
This means I’ve spent the past 48 hours shuffling between master classes, shows, panel discussions, dress rehearsals, band rehearsals and tech rehearsals (and no, before you ask, these rehearsals aren’t even for the same shows or even in the same city, let alone the same state but this is the life I have somehow fallen into and this is the life that just about every tap dancer leads).
As a result, my brain is fried, hence my inability to remember how to change the head on my razor.
My knees are also fried, my feet are fried and my toenails are looking even more rebellious than usual. (Every once in a while the middle toenail on my left foot decides to jump ship. I’m not sure how much longer he’s going to stick around…)
Tonight my co-producer and I will debut our first duet (in our fishnets and booty shorts if I manage to shave my legs between now and then). We’re sharing the stage with Karen Calloway Williams, Maurice Chestnut, Chloe Arnold and Jason Samuels Smith; these names may not mean much to those of you reading this blog but trust me: they’re huge. In fact, I am kind of freaking out because being a dancer, I’m also a neurotic perfectionist with some major self-esteem issues. What fun.
So—wish me luck, because I am definitely going to need it.
(And on that note, I promise to get to bed at a reasonable hour tonight and write something a bit more entertaining for tomorrow.)