bare hugs

i just wanna sing and dance forever, so obviously going to the tonys was a big deal for me. i sat there in the first mezz dreaming of the day i get my invite to sit in the orchestra, practicing my speech in my head like everyone does, imagining the rush of performing for 5800 people in radio city and millions out there in the world, especially because my tony performances will not have to contend with the series finale of the sopranos. so yes, going to the tonys reinforced my desire to devote my life to musicals. but last night, i actually left the roseland ballroom physically itching to dance.

i seriously hated legally blonde this season, despite wanting so badly to like it and introducing everyone i knew to the san francisco recording of the opening number before the show moved to its home in the city and elle woods took over every duane reade. but i left the theater only saying “ohmygod ohmygod you guys” with a look of mournful disappointment, shaking my head, my confidence in jerry mitchell taken down yet yet another notch (since hairspray also makes my soul die a little). jer had his work cut out for him if he was going to restore my faith (though to his credit, how many choreographers teach their audition combinations with words like, “windshield wipers… oh yeah!” and “buy your sack of potatoes…throw your sack of potatoes!”. true story.) but following a night full of pole dancing, more nude colored bedazzled male thongs than i cared to count, and this joke: “you could date oedipus” “that motherf*cker?”, however, jerry is back in my good graces, and i have yet another event driving my ambition for the great white way.

it’s a burlesque show called broadway bares, performed by broadway choruses from every show. this year the theme was “myth-behavior,” which has actually be proven totally impossible to say without sounding like a bad gay stereotype. when i first got a text message asking me if we should go, i thought it was a typo, because broadway cares/equity fights aids is a big deal and everyone knows it and blah blah blah, and i made fun of the person who sent it to me for making a freudian slip. salt on me. no one was wearing anywhere near as much material as would constitute a slip, but freud would have sat back all night and just said, “i told you so.”