Lesson 03: Commit to a writing practice — so let’s talk music

Lesson 03 in learning blogging asks for my 3 most important songs and what they mean to me, along with my commitment to a writing practice. It mainly asks for my commitment. The song bit takes up 2 lines while the rest of the 2 pages is about dedicating 15 minutes every day to going for the jugular.

Have you ever tried to choose your 3 most important songs? It’s not a problem finding the songs, it’s narrowing them down that’s the issue. If you’re anything like me then you have lots of important songs. Millions.

This was another free write one and the person who wrote it has taken too much of their own advice, I think. ‘To hell with mistakes’, they say, well it took me 2 full reads to work out what they wanted. It shows that ‘not worrying about spelling, punctuation, grammar’ can cause problems

So let’s talk music

How do you do? I
See you’ve met my
Faithful handyman
He’s just a little brought down because
When you knocked
He thought you were the candyman
Don’t get strung out
By the way I look
Don’t judge a book by its cover
I’m not much of a man
By the light of day
But by night I’m one hell of a lover
I’m just a sweet transvestite
From transsexual Transylvania

Do I go with my coming out and of age songs? My rebellious years? These more twilit years in comparison? How about my breakdown, the music that saw me through? No, I go with show tunes.

I love a good show tune — not every single one, I’m picky. But I love the ones I love.

It would be nice, if I didn’t have such crippling stage fright, to be trussed up belting out a beauty, most likely dressed in drag. Sometimes my mirror is an audience, a scarf is my boa, and I’m making even the most seasoned performers jealous. When I put a towel on my head I pretend its a wig, and if I bunch my chest I’ve lovely tits — this could be reality if not for the fright. Crippling, hearing my own voice makes me cringe and weak. Good for nothing but a giggle.

Also I can’t sing but this is only a minor issue because I can dance, baby — mmm-hmm. Slut drop, shimmy — I got all the moves.

Bring on that pecan pie
Pour a little sugar on it sugar don’t be shy
Scoop me up a mess of that chocolate swirl
Don’t be stingy I’m a growing girl
I offer big love with no apology
How can I deny the world the most of me?
I am not afraid to throw my weight around
Pound by pound by pound!

It’s the show in them that I love. The utter freedom. The good messages and positive vibes. Their risqué nature. The sing along. The fact I know the words because I’ve learnt them. My little routines. How, when I get to certain bits I do certain things guaranteed — all in front of the mirror. I can’t see the point performing if it’s not in front of a mirror.

I would love to muster up the confidence to give it a go, you know? I love to perform. I was once a snake in the school nativity, and I had a lead role in a WW2 play. My house was getting bombed and I had to run for my life screaming: “The Nazi’s are coming! The Nazi’s are coming!” — I was around 9 at the time. Got pulled out of the play because of school.

Still got this mirror and towel, though — show tunes can never be taken away from me.

Got a little motto
Always sees me through
When you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you!

If you want my gravy
Pepper my ragu
Spice it up for Mama, she’ll get hot for you!

So what’s the one conclusion
I can bring this number to?
When you’re good to Mama, Mama’s good to you!

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Sweet Transvestite — The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Big, Blonde and Beautiful — Hairspray
When You’re Good to Mama — Chicago