Lazy Movie Weekend: Kickstart My Heart

One of my favorite Chuck Klosterman books is Fargo Rock City: A Heavy Metal Odyssey in Rural North Dakota. I think it was the first of Klosterman's books I read, and it was definitely the one that made me laugh out loud the most (my favorite is Killing Yourself to Live). Chuck grew up in rural North Dakota listening to the dulcet tones of every metal band you can name and many you probably can't. He breaks down the genres of metal and discusses his love of it all. One of my favorite sections is his discussion of Motley's Crue's album, Shout at the Devil and the title track. This was the Crue's second studio album and the one where they were accused being devil worshipers. Both Klosterman and the Crue would note that they weren't shouting with the Devil, but at the Devil. Subtle difference, but clearly not devil worship.

The 1980s were a magical time of, well, spandex, pop princesses, early rap stars, and the debauchery of the Sunset Strip and everything associated with it. As the opening narration of the Netflix movie The Dirt tells us, everything sucked about the 80s. I'm not sure I 100% believe that, but I get where movie Nikki Sixx is coming from; the 80s weren't great, but they were tolerable. Lots of really fun and fascinating pop culture comes from the 80s, including the wonder that is glam metal, or hair metal if you want to be a jerk about it. Glam metal is my favorite sub-genre of metal. It combines my love of loud/aggressive music with the sparkle and weirdness of glam music.

Glam metal had its beginning in the 1970s when KISS, Alice Cooper, and Cheap Trick (yes, they belong here) added theatrical elements to their performances and used costuming and makeup to create specific personas onstage. In the 80s, every other band was a glam metal band: Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Ratt, Twisted Sister, Van Halen (the David Lee Roth era), and Quiet Riot were some of the big names. Poison, Cinderalla, and Warrant would come later. This was the kind of music metal dudes could rock out to, but girls could dance to, so it was a perfect. I started listening to glam metal because my brother listened to it, and I was heavy into David Bowie/Roxy Music/T-Rex/70s punk bands so the pieces all sort of fit together. By the late 80s/early 90s, I was over boy bands and onto real music. Glam metal was a perfect.

I've seen a lot of these bands in concert, but at much later points in their careers. My second real concert was a Def Leppard concert in 1992 (I've seen them 3 times). I saw KISS, Motley Crue, and Alice Cooper at various times between 2008-2014. These show are among some of my favorite concerts; devoted fans, fun performances, and a commitment to a the glam metal aesthetic.

I shouldn't love the movie The Dirt as much as I do, but I can't help it. The 80s, particularly in the world of the Sunset Strip and glam metal bands, was about decadence and breaking rules and being the most rock and roll band you could be. That's why this movie is so perfect. It's based on the joint autobiography/oral history of the band of the same name (I haven't read it, but now I want to), and gives us some glimpses into the personal lives of the band before they became Motley Crue. We get to see Tommy Lee's super suburban family, and Nikki Sixx's crazy mother. We learn the name of Mick Mars's degenerative bone disease. I'm still trying to decide if Vince Neil was a kept man before joining the band; he had a rich girlfriend and it seemed like he might have been. Anyway, the movie moves from their humble beginnings in L.A. to their mega-stardom and inevitable crash. It's like a long-form VH1 Behind the Music, but one that was written by a super hormonal teenage boy who's been snorting coke and drinking Jack Daniels for a week.

This movie is not for everyone. If you don't want to watch Nikki Sixx shoot heroin into his neck or see the car crash that killed Hanoi Rocks drummer, Razzle Dingley, you probably shouldn't watch this movie. If lots of random sex and drug use and drinking bothers you, don't watch this movie. If cursing makes you clutch your pearls, definitely don't watch this movie. If you're cool with this or at least can tolerate it, grab a glass of Jack Daniels and settle in with me for The Dirt.

• "He makes a lot of bad choices." Nikki Sixx describing Tommy Lee during the intro voiceover. If ever there was an understatement, this is it. 
• "Mick Mars - he's an alien." Seriously, I love this movie and I'm on 5 minutes in.
• I never knew Tommy Lee came from such a ridiculously normal family. It's kind of crazy. I guess I thought he was raised by wolves in a parking lot or something similar.
• I have realized that because I'm sober, I'm too sober to watch this movie. I will continue on, but seriously, this movie would make a great drinking game. 
• Mick Mars will always be my favorite member of the band. Dude has a serious medical condition, but could play. He seems like a guy who could tolerate/participate in a lot of nonsense, but also needed his quiet time away from the party. He's played by probably the most well-known person in this movie, Iwan Rheon, from Game of Thrones. He is amazing in this role and my favorite part of the movie.
• When looking for a singer, the guys were looking for someone who would be a combination of David Lee Roth and David Bowie. They got Vince Neil, and I can see both Roth and Bowie in young Vince Neil.
• There's a lot of breaking of the fourth wall in this movie. Every member of the band does it, as do the band's manager, Doc, and the A&R guy from Elektra Records (played by Pete Davidson). 
• "Don't ever leave your girlfriend alone with Motley Crue." Probably the most accurate statement in this entire movie.
• I never realized how much Vince Neil and Rod Stewart had in common until I watched this movie. Neil is like the glam metal version of Stewart's man tart. 
• "Come have a talk with your Uncle Oz." The section with Ozzy Osbourne was spectacular. I don't doubt that any of this happened, but it's so bizarre that I have to wonder. When I saw Sabbath a few years ago, Ozzy reminded me of an old grandpa shuffling around in his pjs. This is not that Ozzy.
• Bless the Crue's manager, Doc. "Motley Crue did stupid things because they were Motley Crue." 
• Things shift dramatically for the band following the death of Razzle from Hanoi Rocks and Neil's first attempt at sobriety. This is also when Nikki Sixx discovers heroin and Tommy Lee meets Heather Locklear. 
• This is when the movie becomes a mix between Behind the Music but with more swearing, and a reality tv show. Tommy Lee's life on the road segment would have made great reality tv back in the day. 
• Nikki: "Is there even still a Persia?" Heroin Dealer: "There has to be; that's where the cats come from." This is the exchange before the dealer injects Nikki with the heroin that would kill him. But he didn't die die; he was revived. 
• This prompts the entire band to go to rehab. Where is the documentary about this? I mean, we got a documentary when Metallica went through group therapy together. I guess we got The Dirt so it's sort of the same thing. 
• After rehab, the band released Dr. Feelgood, their most successful album and one that lead to an epic tour. This epic tour would be the start of the decline of the band. 
• And then the movie turns super sad. Vince Neil's first wife leaves, taking their daughter with her. The daughter, Skylar, dies of cancer not too long after, at age four. It's the most emotional part of the movie, and does a lot to humanize Vince Neil. It was hard watching this part of the movie after everything that came before it.
• Nikki figures out his life, and begins apologizing to everyone. Mick gets his hip replaced. The band gets back together. They continued to perform as Motley Crue for 20 years after that. Just a bunch of dudes who like to play glam metal and be around one another. And we all learned a lesson...or something.

I've learned a lot of things from Motley Crue: the names of strip clubs; that I should not go away mad, but just go away; Nikki Sixx will always be the hottest member of the band; we all need to remember that it's our collective jobs to kickstart Vince Neil's heart; that shouting at the Devil is really effective. More than anything, the Crue showed us all that music doesn't always have to be serious. It can be about having a good time and doing wild stuff. Even when you eventually have to be a grown up, you can still rock out. So thank you, Motley Crue. Thank you for this self-indulgent, but also sort of sad movie. I don't know how all of you survived, but you did, and for that, I salute you. 

The Dirt cast image

My 40th Year on Earth: In the style of

Here are some things I know:

• When presenting any sort of information in front of a group of people, I have the confidence of a much taller person.
• I owned a Debbie Gibson hat when I was in the 4th grade and I rocked it better than Debbie herself (maybe not, but again, confidence of a much taller person). 
• I store song lyrics in my brain like a hoarder hoards plastic bags (or whatever their preferred hoarding item is). 
• While my tolerance for nonsense and shenanigans is high, my embarrassment level/awkwardness in certain public situations is rather low. 
• I have never sung karaoke. 

We've come to the point in my 40th year on Earth where it's time to accomplish one of the terrifying things on my list: singing in public. I'm not entirely sure why I decided this was a thing I needed to do. It might have something to do with my inability to truly relax, or my control-freak tendencies. I don't know. Singing karaoke seems like something one does to truly let go. It doesn't really require singing ability or talent; just a passing knowledge of the song's lyrics and some showmanship. I occasionally have the confidence of a taller person, or even a mediocre white man, so I can do this. 

Earlier this month, I got called for jury duty. The second I received my summons in the mail, I knew I was going to end up on a jury. I had to go in the week after coming back from New Orleans and ended up on the jury for a murder trial. It was a surreal experience and an incredible contrast to my New Orleans trip the previous week. Anyway, I took Rob Sheffield's book Turn Around Bright Eyes with me. I knew I would need a distraction during breaks, and I wanted to re-read it before my own karaoke journey. Rob had guided my on my trip to Charlottesville, so why not help with karaoke? Turn Around Bright Eyes won't replace Love is a Mix Tape as my favorite of his books, but it's great. It mostly takes place after the events of Love is a Mix Tape; karaoke becomes part of the healing process for Rob after the death of his wife. He falls in love again and sings karaoke everywhere. Woven into the story of Rob's move to New York, and life moving on, are random facts about songs, tips for giving it your all, and observations about the people who make up the karaoke community (which is a thing). It was exactly the book I needed to read while on jury duty. Turn Around Bright Eyes kept me calm while listening to some horrible things. At the end of the week, I stumbled into some karaoke with my brother while we were out celebrating his birthday. I didn't sing that night, but I watched a couple of middle-schoolers and some drunk girls sing their hearts out at a brewery in Woodbridge. It was an odd end to a bizarre week, and it got me more excited for my own karaoke debut.

Anyway, my karaoke date drew closer and I still hadn't picked a song. I could have picked songs from Rob's book, but I felt like all of them were the songs of seasoned karaoke singers. I asked my Facebook community for suggestions. One of my Nyx sisters sent me a great article to get me thinking of the perfect song. Every song on the radio became a potential option. I gave my fellow 66 commuters a show over the last two weeks (singing in my car is my second favorite commuting activity after making up stories about fellow commuters). I listened to songs at the gym by genre, hoping something would spark. I spent most of the day of listening to records and embroidering (as one does) for more inspiration. Walking into the bar, I still had no song. Anita suggested looking at "the book" and deciding based on what's available. This is what I did.

Did I mention that Anita is a karaoke pro? Exactly six years ago to the day, I went with her to L.A. Bar & Grill (Lower Arlington, because that's a thing) and listened to her sing "Walkin' on Sunshine" while I drank like the supportive friend I am. She does a killer version of "What's Up" as well. It's a moment. I trust her karaoke wisdom. She was 100% right; I had to let the book tell me what to do.

I browsed. I checked for songs I had considered during the week. I looked for songs me and Anita discussed over dinner and the first of many beers. I talked to a few people who were also signing up. One woman, who I'll call Donna Summer, told me I couldn't go wrong with Donna Summer. She's right, but she sang "Last Dance" and killed it, so I knew I wasn't going down that road. I also got advice from a dude bro about having fun. He told me an 80s song was risky; people might not know it. This made me A. feel old B. realize he thinks I'm younger than I am which negated the feeling old thing. Karaoke is a lot. I was the last person to sign up on the first page of singers. Accomplishment.

Anita also selected the location and she picked a good one. We went to Rock It Grill in Old Town. It's a great place for karaoke; people are nice, they sing along, and are generally not jerks. The mix of people who went before me varied from the Lynyrd Skynyrd guy who started the night to the fantastic duo who sang "Bohemian Rhapsody" and of course, Donna Summer. There was also a woman who look terrified, but her friends got her through a Shania Twain song. The guy right before me sang a Drowning Pool song; it was a weird moment, but he did it with such conviction that it worked. 

I was nervous. When Drowning Pool guy got up, I knew I was next. My heart started beating a little faster and I downed my last beer. I felt my face getting a little hotter. I started giving myself the pep talk I always give myself when nervous. I looked around the room and saw a packed bar of perfect strangers who were way drunker than me who were all having a great time. They were going to continue having a great time during and after my song. And they did. People danced, people sang along with me. I got high fives and fist bumps on my way back to my seat. I didn't trip. I didn't freeze or throw up. I remembered the words...for the most part. The Go-Go's would be proud of me, I think. (I sang "Our Lips Are Sealed.") Anita went up a few people later and killed "What's Up" like I knew she would. I finished my shot of Jameson, we sang along to "Piano Man" and went home.

I did it. Singing karaoke may not sound like a huge accomplishment to many people, but for me it's a big deal. I don't sing in public. I don't really sing at all. I typically don't put myself in positions where I might, I don't know, trip and fall in front of 100 strangers. Or sing in front of 100 people. I can teach public speaking fundamentals to my colleagues, help Girl Scouts learn about abstract art, and tell vagina jokes to 50 feminists, but singing in public is not my thing. I'm proud of myself. And I want to do it again. Rob Sheffield told me I was going to get hooked and want to sing karaoke all the time, and he's right. I want to do it again. Maybe not every weekend or even every month, but the next time I'm randomly in Woodbridge at the brewery (it's the only one in Woodbridge) on a Friday night, I'm going to sign myself up. And I'll be back at Rock It Grill.

Mardi Gras 2019, Part Three: So You Want to Be in a Mardi Gras Parade

Now that I've told you about the actual experience of riding in a parade and waxed poetic (or something) about my "journey," let's get down to the actual logistics of riding in a Mardi Gras parade. People have been asking me what I would do differently or what I've learned, so here you go. No state secrets are revealed (there are Mardi Gras krewe secrets), but these are my things to live by/remember for 2020.

• Make float friends. This is especially important if you're an out of towner. My group was all from out of town and thankfully, we have a wonderful group of float friends to help us. They picked things up, provided tips for everything, and are generally cool human beings. 
• Invest in glitter makeup. Y'all know I'm ore of a "a little mascara on a Saturday" makeup wearer, but I need to fully embrace glitter makeup in 2020. Not only is glitter makeup sparkly, but it's fun. And having fun is what Mardi Gras is all about.
• ALWAYS style your wig. You would think with my experience in costume design and the sheer number of drag queens I know that this would have been a Captain Obvious moment for me, but it wasn't. I didn't know we were allowed to change the overall style of the wig, but now I know we can do things that enhance but not fundamentally change the wig. This is particularly important with long wigs as I had this year. Thankfully, I had extra pins so I could pin my wig up once we were outside. I'll plan to have ponytail holders too. This is not a short hair girl thing, but I'll do my best. 
  
• Order your throws wisely. Being in a krewe is not cheap. It's not prohibitively expensive, but it's not cheap. I purchased a middle of the road bead package with some extras (cups, plush) and it was totally fine. I may up my bead purchase a bit next year (they're the easiest things to throw), but not significantly. As one of our friends told us, it's all about the kind of thrower you want to be. She's a heavy thrower, but that's not everyone's thing. I liked several of the supplemental items Kelly bought (glitter slap bracelets!), so I may add some of those next year too. Two other things to consider: glow necklaces are awesome from a volume perspective, but terrible from an assembly perspective AND only throw what you're allowed to throw. Don't ruin things for others. 
• Know the halfway point of the route. This helps gauge the best places to take breaks or spend time taking pictures and videos. It'll also help determine when you have to start throwing like a mad woman because the parade is almost over. It's somewhere on St. Charles Avenue for an Uptown route; I'm not quite sure where. 
• Everything will hurt at the end of the night and for several days after. It doesn't matter what shoes you wear or how physically fit you are, standing for approximately 7 hours hurts. Throwing stuff at people means you use muscles you don't necessarily use everyday. I'm pretty certain I got a bruise from my harness. The thing is, it's all worth it. Take a long bath, get a massage, enjoy a glass of wine. You'll be back to normal in a few days.
• Hydrate. If you drink alcohol, be aware of your alcohol to water ratio. A parade is not a race, it's a marathon. You need to make it to the end. I drink, but I don't drink that much. I limited my alcohol consumption during the pre-party. I wanted to experience the parade with fresh eyes and didn't really know what to expect. I wanted to be alert. I'm also not 25 anymore so I don't drink as much as I did back in the day. Drink in moderation and stay hydrated. Get your routine down and then decide what your limits are.
• Stay until Friday...at least. We all left at various times on Thursday. To quote Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, "Big mistake. Huge. I have to go shopping now." Not only does this apply to snotty women who work on commission on Rodeo Drive, but to Mardi Gras. Next year, I want to stay at least until Friday or Saturday if I can. I don't think I'll be able to afford staying through Mardi Gras Day, but we'll see. To paraphrase one of my friends, "It's freaking Mardi Gras, baby! Live it up!"
• Yell at me. A sign is great and fun and I know you put some time into making that. I appreciate you and your creativity. However, I can't guarantee I'm going to see it between the crowds, my mask, and my foggy glasses. Yelling is more of a sure thing. I'll post my float position, you tell me where you're going to be. I'll listen for you when we get there. I heard one of my friends and he got a purse (Kusama inspired purse). 
  
• You will hit people in the face. It's inevitable. While I was pleasantly surprised by the direct eye contact I made and the number of times I landed a throw, it doesn't always work. The float speed changes with some frequency. The wind picks up unexpectedly. People aren't really paying attention, so yes, you'll hit people. It's not intentional and is ultimately part of the experience. Also, I'm sorry. 
• St. Charles Avenue is not for the weak. St. Charles is a weird combination of families, college kids, and people staying in hotels along the avenue. I've spent so many years as a spectator on St. Charles that I never noticed how crazy it really is. It's intense and is the longest stretch of the route. My advice: take a break, refill your drink, restock/reorganize your throw. Don't panic - Lee Circle is just ahead. 
• Why, yes, there is a port-o-let on the float. No, I didn't use it. I hope I didn't ruin some illusion anyone had about floats being magical by telling you there's a portable toilet on board. I'm sorry if I did, but sometimes knowing things is better. I was on the upper level of the float, and it's not "easy" to get up there when the float is stationary. It's not hard either, but it takes attention. The ladies on the lower level also had stuff and so my pathway would take me through their stuff too. I opted to skip this entirely. Go before you leave the party, and manage your beverage intake. 
• Embrace the fanny pack. I've now written this sentence twice, and I'll write it over and over again. I don't know your fashion life, but trust me on this one. I took a bag this year, and it was a poor life choice. Thankfully, one of the novelty items was a fanny pack, and I thank the goddess for it. My fanny pack experience was amazing. All you need on the float is your ID and phone. Guess what fits perfectly in a fanny pack? I'm not saying I'm going to use it all the time, but I'll definitely be rocking it next year. 
  
• Dance, Dance, Dance! I freely admit that I'm an awkward dancer. I can dance, but I never feel really comfortable doing so. I love a rock show and enjoy rock show dancing because we know it's not the same as dancing dancing or being say, in the club. I vow to work on this for next year. Everyone knows the dances, and I want to know them too. 
• Work on your throwing arm. I did surprisingly well hitting my "marks" despite having the upper body of strength of someone who carries heavy boxes of cat litter on the regular (basically better than someone who never raises their arms, but not as good as a person who has a small child that needs wrangling on occasion). I'll have to develop a fitness regiment that I can do from the comfort of my couch. Some of the novelty items I threw don't have any weight, so I need to work on my drop skills too. 
• Save some throws for yourself. This was my first ride in Nyx, so of course I was going to keep things for myself. I also kept some things for my friends and family. It's nice to have them around to keep the spirit of Mardi Gras alive all year.
• Take pictures! We live in a society based on documentation on social media. It's what we do, so don't forget to do it here. Stuff is going to get thrown by you and everyone else in the float, so take some time to take video and pictures of the crowds, your float buddies, and whatever else is fun. My family couldn't come this year, so I wanted to make sure they could "participate" from home. I wish I had taken more, so I'm going to make a point to do this next year.
• Have fun! This shouldn't have to be said, but I'll say it anyway. I had a freaking blast and am excited for next year. I'm more of an introvert, so I know it might sometimes seem like I'm not having fun because I'm being quiet. Totally not the case. It's a lot; it's an overwhelming experience the first time, so my introvert brain has to make it all work. And it did. I enjoyed myself in the way I wanted to. I was with my friends and did something I always wanted to do. Let's get through the rest of 2019 so we can do this again!
  

So that's all from Mardi Gras 2019! I'm taking a short break from purse making and glitter, but will be back at it before I know it!

I'm taking next week off, but will return the following weekend with my next adventure: singing karaoke for the first time. Still need to figure out what the hell I'm going to sing. 

Mardi Gras 2019, Part Two: New Orleans by way of Detroit

This is part two of a three part series on my recent trip to New Orleans to ride in my first Mardi Gras parade. You can read part one here. Part three will be up this weekend. I wrote most of today's post last Monday while on a plane from DC to New Orleans via Detroit. 

I take a lot of road trips with my brother. He's not a huge fan of flying, and both of us like to drive. We drove everywhere as a family when we were younger; I'm sure our love of road trips comes from our childhood. We have a few traditions for our road trips including buying a new CD for the trip, and stocking up on specific snacks. Interestingly, there are a few topics we tend to come back to on trips. One of those topics is about our funerals. This conversation usually takes place around hour six or sometimes on day two if it's a longer trip. I know, it seems like a depressing topic for a road trip, but it's one of those topics we have to discuss. Neither of us are married or have kids, so we have to take care of one another. And yes, we're working on getting our wills/trusts set up, but it's still important to have these conversations. I like being prepared and frankly, don't want to have to make major decisions at a time of grief. I don't want my brother to have to do that either.

Both of us want to be cremated. I have no desire to have people visit my grave or for some random cemetery worker to have to tend to it when everyone I know is gone. Neither of us are particularly religious, and cremation always seemed more secular. I don't know exactly where my brother wants his ashes scattered; I suspect a location, but he says he hasn't made a final decision yet. Having an urn is weird. I've told my brother that I would like my ashes scattered in two places: Detroit and New Orleans, the city of my birth and the city of my life.

I started writing this on a plane to Detroit where I will then board another plane to New Orleans. I didn't select this route; Delta Airlines did. I assume they did this with the same level of humor that went into their new uniforms (think Carmen Sandiego meets Willy Wonka with a dash of the Red Hat Ladies). This route is amusing to me, and maybe poetic or something. I've been thinking about place and home lately, so it's fitting that this is the route taking me to New Orleans, the place where I've always felt at home. I read a lot of rom-com novels at the gym, between cult memoirs and mysteries. In many of these novels, at least one character, usually the love interest, is searching for "home." They always seem to find "home" in a person, usually the protagonist, rather than a physical place. Conceptually, I understand, but personally, I don't get it. Maybe it's because I've never really been in love. Maybe home is with family, but I'm not always sure that's true either.

Anyway, New Orleans will always be home. We moved to Louisiana in 1987, when I was in the 3rd grade. We lived across the lake in Slidell, but spent lots of time in the city. I was captivated by New Orleans (I wouldn't have used that word as a 3rd grader); by the history and culture and the ghost stories. I remember my first Mardi Gras and Jazz Fest. There's so much to love about the area, but what I always come back to is its vibrancy. New Orleans is one of the most vibrant places I've ever been. We moved to northern Virginia in 1992, and I think I always knew I'd go back to Louisiana. I did, for college and then lived there until nine months after Hurricane Katrina. I tried to stay in New Orleans, but I couldn't. I didn't have a support network once people started leaving and I needed to be closer to my family at the time. I regretted my decision then, but I know now it had to happen. I needed to leave, at least for a little while, in order to eventually go back.

Had I not left when I did, there would be people missing in my life today. I wouldn't have experienced some very important professional and personal events over the last 12 years that I needed to experience. It hasn't always been easy, but life isn't necessarily supposed to be easy. Manageable, but not easy. I would make the same choice I made in the summer of 2006 if I was magically taken back and had to decide again.

Last week, I got to do something my 7 year old self never thought she'd get to do: ride in a Mardi Gras parade. I remember wanting to do this so badly as a kid, but we were from "away" and had no connection to the hierarchy of Mardi Gras (which is a real thing). Most of the krewes I grew up with were all male too. Thirty plus years later, I'm finally doing it as a member of the Mystic Krewe of Nyx, one of the largest all-female Mardi Gras krewes. I'm in it with two of my very dear friends, women who are my sisters, and who I shared many a Mardi Gras with back in the day (we're allowed to use that phrase because we're almost 40). It's an odd thing to those from away, who think Mardi Gras equals beads, boobs, and booze. These are people who never experienced Mardi Gras as a child or who only know one thing about New Orleans. New Orleans is so much ore than one thing.

Making my glitter purses has been an experience, both rewarding and stressful. Stressful because I overthink everything and am a perfectionist. I want the person who gets each one of my purses to love it as much as I loved making it, but I worry none of mine are grand enough. Maybe they're too avant-garde (at least a few of them) or weird. But they are what they are. I've enjoyed the creative process and figuring out all of the techniques to make each one. I have ideas swirling around in my brain for next year. I've felt, at times, that making these purses was part of the healing process of dealing with leaving New Orleans before. It connects me to the city in a way I don't feel connected to anywhere else. I feel more connected to my own creative process and sense of self. Is that a lot to put on a bunch of glitter purses I'll throw to strangers? Maybe, but it's how I feel. I know this process will influence my other creative projects; I can come back to them or start them with fresh eyes.

So I return to New Orleans, traveling through the city of my birth to be in the city of my life. In a few days, I'll return to where I live now. I'll finish writing this there, and go back to work and the dailyness of life in NOVA. I'll work. I'll write. I'll commute. I'll create. I'll countdown the days until I return again to my favorite place at the best time of the year. I'll be back in a city teeming with life and fun and pain and joy. And lots of glitter.

This weekend I'll part three of my Mardi Gras series. This last post will focus on the things you need to know if you want to be in a Mardi Gras parade. Also this month: I sing karaoke for the first time ever. What song should I sing? Should I wear my purple wig (styled of course)? 

Mardi Gras 2019, Part One: Tonight, We Roll

This is part one of at least a three part series about my experience riding in my first Mardi Gras parade. Two previous blogs about the lead up to riding can be found here and here. Since I know most everyone wants to hear about the experience of riding, I'll start in the middle with load-in and the parade itself. At least one of the posts will be a little sad; this is not that one. This is probably the funnest of the series because everyone loves a parade! Enjoy - from your resident Misfit!

If I had to pick one image that reflects the fun and fabulousness of the last week, this would be it. This is pre-parade, from our perch on the upper level of the tandem. We're mostly in costume, ready to roll out for the first time, together and having a blast.

Riding in a Mardi Gras parade is an odd thing to most people, you know, people who don't live in Louisiana. When you haven't experienced Mardi Gras in person, a parade is a very different thing. For most people, a parade is a quaint thing, something that happens maybe once a year on the Fourth of July or maybe St. Patrick's Day. It's fun, but no one spends a lot of time thinking about how it was organized or the people who ride in it. It happens, you come out and wave a flag, have a few laughs and then go home. You tuck the parade away until you hear or see the ad about it again the following year. It's part of your life, but not part of your life.

Mardi Gras is the exact opposite. I'm not here to tell you the history of Mardi Gras; there are dozens of books out there that are far better for that than me. Try Mardi Gras: Chronicles of the New Orleans Carnvial by Errol Laborde, Mardi Gras in New Orleans: An Illustrated History by Arthur Hardy, or New Orleans Carnival Krewes by Rosary O'Neil (who also happens to be a former professor of mine). Mardi Gras isn't one day; it's a season. It starts on Twelfth Night (Epiphany) in early January and runs through the day before Ash Wednesday, Mardi Gras Day. Between Twelfth Night and Mardi Gras Day, there are dozens of parades, walking groups, and celebrations. New Orleans isn't the only place were Mardi Gras/Carnival is celebrated, but it's probably one of the most well-known celebrations. Most people think of three things when they think of Mardi Gras in New Orleans: beads, boobs, and booze. It's so much more than any of those things, but you have to experience it to really see that.

Mardi Gras is part of everyone in the region's life whether they enjoy it or not. Parades disrupt traffic in a major way, so even if you don't like Mardi Gras, you have to deal with it. There were times when I lived in New Orleans, that I felt the rage of not being able to get anywhere during a parade. I would grumble and be annoyed. However, after riding down Tchoupitoulas to get in formation, I finally understand the magic of a parade. People were on the street just watching us line up. We're not allowed to throw anything at that point, but they wanted to see the floats and get into a parade mood. That's a thing: parade mood.

But let me step back. You can't be in formation without a little work. I rode in the parade with my two college roommates, Kelly and Heather, and Heather's mom, Mary Irene. All of us live out of town, so we missed out on a lot of the pre-parade events like our membership meeting where the theme was announced ("There's No Bigger Party than a Parade") and costume pickup. Thankfully, we have the greatest float lieutenant in the world, Caitlin, who picked up our costumes, bought our harnesses, and generally made everything work. She, along with the rest of the ladies of Float 11, are the best people I know. They're friendly, welcoming, and most of all, super fun. Heather picked up our costumes from Caitlin on the way from the airport to the hotel. Costuming is a big part of Mardi Gras. In addition to a standard costume across the krewe, we all wear masks and elaborate wigs and headdresses. Our float's theme was "Prince Charming" so our headdress included a knight's helmet, feathers, and LED lights. You know, like every prince wears.

Prior to the actual parade, we have to load the floats. A lot of this is done in advance, since we order throws (throws: beads, cups, plush, novelty items, purses, basically anything we throw from the float to the crowd) from a company that pre-loads them to the float for us. Load-in is all about organizing all of the throws and bringing all the other stuff onto the float, including our purses, snacks and food (which we bought too much of), and other throws we brought with us. We also needed to tarp everything since the forecast called for rain overnight.

So much pink. Having only been on the receiving end of parade throws, I never knew what went into getting all the stuff together. The fact that most of what I threw was pre-loaded on the float for me is amazing. In addition to the beads, I also bought some novelty bags which included everything from Nyx themed bath bombs (no joke) to parade themed items like light-up Poseidon tridents and pirate swords (all float titles started with a "P") and then super random things like post-it notes and tutus. Basically, if you can put a krewe brand on it and it can light up, I threw it to the crowd. I also bought cups, a Mardi Gras staple, and a plush set (themed stuffed animals). I brought some random things from home, mostly glitter sunglasses and cat ear headbands, and my purses. I figured if I ran out before the end of the parade, I'd spend the time taking video and pictures. I didn't run out, but I did stop throwing for a bit on St. Charles Avenue to ensure I had enough for the second half of the route. 

After float loading, we met up with some of our float sisters at a restaurant on Magazine Street. It was nice to meet a few more people before the day of the parade. They shared stories from past rides and tips for the next day. I can't express enough how much I love the ladies of Float 11. They helped make this a great experience, even if we only got to be around each other for a short time. 

Parade day is a long day. There's a pre-party before the parade at the Convention Center. Everyone shows up in full costume and then it's 3300+ women hanging out and dancing until it's time to load on the floats. I finally got to meet our float lieutenant and some of the women I'd only "met" in our Facebook group. They helped us glitter up our wigs and add more sparkle. We weren't the only newbies; we ended up sitting at a table of all new people. This was a perfect people watching experience for me; my writer brain has filed away a ton of little things for future reference and introvert me had to really work at not being overwhelmed. Being with my friends and the other newbies helped a lot. It's a whirlwind of colors and glitter and people having a great time. Note for next year: brush up on my dancing skills. Everyone knows all the dances and I only sort of do. My goal is to be able to keep up with this police officer. 

Floats were called to loading around 3:30 (our parade rolls at 6:30). We got back to the float, un-tarped everything, which dropped water down below (sorry, ladies) and then proceeded to continue organizing for the ride. I honestly thought I did a nice job of organizing the night before, but I was wrong. I spent the time moving things around, unwrapping more stuff (although I'm glad I kept a lot of stuff in plastic since it rained), and assembling glow necklaces. Glow necklaces are both the best and worst throw; best because I had a lot of them and everyone loves a glow necklace and worst because you either have to put them together or throw them as is and hope the person who catches it figures it out. I did a bit of both, and am still questioning whether I want them next year. Another tip for 2020: style my wig, especially if it's another long one. I had extra bobby pins so I was able to pin it up. It was hot and that helped a lot. Mary Irene said I looked very European once I pinned it up. I also discovered the joy of a fanny pack, something I never thought I'd say in my life. It was easier to access my phone from a fanny pack, especially a pink, glittery one.

We started moving into formation at some point, I don't know when because I wasn't really paying attention to time. As we started lining up on Tchoupitoulas, dark rain clouds started to cross our path. The day had been beautiful, sunny and clear. It rained heavily for about 30 minutes. We put on our ponchos and sat under tarps until it cleared. Thankfully, the rain held off for the rest of the parade and the crowds were huge; rain didn't keep anyone away. The parade in front of us started late, so we waited on Tchoupitoulas by the Winn-Dixie for a long time. The marching bands and dance groups were here too, so we got to hear them practice while we waited.

Once we started to roll, the whole thing became a blur of crowds on the street and throws. My first few throws were weak. I made contact, but my aim was a little off. Some of the throws are light weight so the wind was really in control. I tried to drop those down to people instead of throwing. That sort of worked. Beads are the easiest thing to throw, and I'm proud of my ability to get beads to the back rows of people. Being on the upper level helped with this a lot. I tried to throw things to little girls, people who were really yelling for things, and the occasional handsome dude out on the route. I received blown kisses and long distance high-fives in return. Being on float is a powerful thing.

I ended up making 11 purses to throw. Only my friend Brian "claimed" one of mine, so I threw the other 10 to complete strangers. I feel like this is the way it should be. I picked people based on signs I could see, like the lady who traveled 1802 miles for the parade or the one near Gallier Hall who drew a purse on her sign that looked like one of mine. The guy in front of her caught it, but gave it to her, so I'm proud of him. My second favorite purse, "You're the Cat's Meow," went to a little girl who's mom was carrying her and trying to catch the purse I tossed down. She did and I didn't hit her little girl. Win-win in my book. I hope they post them to the Nyx Purse Tracker, but if they don't, I hope they enjoy the purses and the love that went into each one. 

This is one of the crowd videos I was able to take during the parade. I think it's a great representation of what the crowds are like and the speed we're going. There are so many people and they all want something. It's overwhelming in a fun way. I tried hard to get stuff to kids, but everyone deserves something during a parade. I was surprised at how easy it was to make eye contact with someone so they were ready to catch whatever I was throwing. I thought that would be harder than it was. Maybe it was being on the upper level, maybe we're not as far away from people as I thought we'd be. I apologize to anyone I hit in the face, head, or shoulders. It wasn't intentional, I promise. 

Since I wear glasses, and can't seen without them, I wore my glasses under my mask. I had planned to glue the mask to my glasses, but the addition of light up eyebrows made this too difficult. My light up eyebrows didn't end up working, so I was able to make it work so I could lift up my glasses when needed. This helped a lot since I had to pause frequently to let my glasses de-fog because it was hot. When I did this, I kept my mask on, and took pictures or video since I didn't want to throw blind. Once we left Lee Circle heading to Canal Street (and the end of the route), I wore my glasses on top of my mask because it was more comfortable. Lesson for next year: glue the mask to old glasses. 

And then it was over. By a little after 11, we were at the end of the route, separating the garbage from all of our stuff, and getting off the float. We said goodbye to float members still around and walked the few blocks back to our hotel (thankfully, we stayed close to the end). Everything hurt a little bit, and continues to ache today. I have a weird bruise on my hip, probably from my harness. Yes, we wear harnesses on the float. Mine is pink. It kept me from falling off. Thank you, pink harness. Thankfully, everyone from the float is feeling the same aches I am. It's the price we pay for having so much fun.

Category is: retired showgirl at the end of the night.

Being part of Nyx is definitely one of the funnest things I've ever done in my life. Sharing this experience with Kelly, Heather, and Mary Irene was amazing. Getting to spend time with them, and not have to think about work and other life stuff was a gift. I miss them so much already and will probably need to start a countdown to next year ASAP. Being home was perfect and emotional; I'll share more about this in part two.

Next year, my purse goal is 15. If you want one, you better claim it and make sure I know where you're going to be on the route and you yell extra loud for me. If not, 15 strangers are getting a treat. May the odds be ever in your purse catching favor.

Hail Nyx!

Part Two will be out sometime this week. It's a little more maudlin, but whatever. It's my blog so I do what I want! Part Three will be up next weekend and will include a handy list of things any parade newbie needs to make their riding experience the best experience ever. 

Photos by Heather, Kelly, Mary Irene, a random person who took our float picture, and me. Videos by me.