THURSDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2008(Fantasia Fair: Day 5 below has more photos and a few words about Day 5. This post details Day 5 more fully.)
I was up and at 'em (or more like "up and Eve") and into my female morning routine (shower, shave, makeup, pick an outfit to wear, dress, continental breakfast, and make my plans for the day).
The morning talks did not interest me, so I decided to go shopping again. The weather was the nicest so far.
My goal was to visit a vintage clothing store. The store had some delicious vintage clothing on display in its windows, but it was closed when I was in the neighborhood on Wednesday.
I walked about a mile to the store, but it was closed even though its posted hours indicated that it should be open. I was disappointed.
I window-shopped my way back down Commercial Street and visited some of the stores of interest, but I did not find anything I wanted to buy.
Soon it was time for lunch. My lunch ticket for the day was for my own hotel, so I returned to my room to freshen up, then went downstairs to the dining room on the enclosed veranda.
Lunch that day was a disappointment. Despite the pleasant weather, it was not warm enough to be sitting on a veranda to eat a meal and I was uncomfortable. Also, the food was only so-so. On a positive note, the luncheon conversation with the other girls was fun (I found the conversations over meals this week were always great fun and I tried to sit with new people as often as possible to make the conversations even more interesting.)
The keynote address at 1 PM was a panel discussion titled "State of the Trans Union." I especially wanted to hear the words of my favorite trans personality Ethan St. Pierre, but others on the panel spoke more than he did and I was a little disappointed. However, it was an excellent discussion (Stephen Whittle's words were worth the price of admission). I hung around for the open discussion after the panel discussion ended, but I just listened and did not participate because I did not have anything to offer.
Most of the Fantasia Fair attendees from my support group made a date to dine together at the Lobster Pot, a restaurant with rave reviews from folks, who had dined there in the past.
I changed into my outfit for the evening and primped (see photo above right) for my night out. Then I walked the four or five blocks to the restaurant in my short bubble skirt, which attracted the attention of some of the passerbys.
Three of my friends were waiting outside the restaurant, including one of my biggest fans, Teresa Marie (aka TM), who jokingly pointed out that my skirt was too short for the weather. (I call TM "one of my biggest fans" because she tells everyone that in her opinion, I am pretty.)
After two other friends showed up, we went inside to join still other friends, who already were seated in the restaurant. As we girls entered the dining room, I noticed that we caught the attention of a table of six or eight civilians, who were gawking at us. Before I sat down, I waved at them using my girliest limp-wristed wave. They did not wave back.
Dinner was excellent. I had three crab and seafood cakes topped by hunks of lobster meat. It was so filling that I could only eat one and one-quarter of the cakes. And, as usual, the dinner conversation was wonderful.
After dinner, we went to Club Purgatory for karaoke. Fifty-seven years on the Planet Earth and I have never seen karaoke in person, much less participate in karaoke, but I was going to do karaoke this night.
I so wanted to do Wendy by the Beach Boys, but it was not one of the available karaoke tunes. As a long time Beach Boy fan, I know a lot of their songs by heart, but they had only two to choose from: Fun Fun Fun (one of my faves) and California Girls (one of my least favorite Beach Boy hits), so I signed up to karaoke the former and put my sign-up sheet in a fishbowl with the other sign-up sheets.
It was my lucky day... not! The DJ picked my name out of the fishbowl to be the first karaoke performance! No, not me! I was hoping to witness a few karaoke performances before my turn came up. Holey Shirt! I was so not prepared for this!
By the way, I did not get lubricated for this event. In fact, the only alcohol I drank all week was two glasses of wine at the welcoming reception Sunday night. In retrospect, I should have gotten well lubricated before my maiden karaoke performance, but so it went and I was called up by the MC, who was a professional drag performer.
Before I began, I mentioned to the MC that I was a novice and she announced that fact to the crowd. So I hoped that the crowd would be sympathetic if things did not go so well.
Things did not go so well. I lost my place after the first verse of the song and it took me another verse to catch up with the music. I also sang in falsetto and did not sound much like Brian Wilson... more like Minnie Mouse. Despite my awful performance, the crowd cheered me on and most people said I did OK (they were too kind).
I decided to try and redeem myself, so I signed up for another song: Shania Twain's Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under, which I kind of knew because I had practiced singing it when I was considering lipsyncing it for my support group's banquet entertainment.
Second time around, I did better than the first time. I sang in my natural voice and I kept up with the music most of the time. The crowd reacted well, just like the first time. (My guess is that they were well lubricated!)
In retrospect, I should have picked Man! I Feel Like a Woman, which I knew cold. I think the key to doing karaoke is to pick a song you know by heart and just sing your heart out to the music and avoid reading the lyrics appearing on the karaoke screen. Next time...
Around midnight, the crowd was thinning out and my friend, Denise from Plymouth offered to give me a ride back to my hotel, which I gladly accepted. (Even though Provincetown has a very open, liberal, and diverse population, I was still concerned about walking the streets alone late at night especially the way I was dressed!)
I had a wonderful day on Thursday and went to sleep with visions of female impersonators dancing in my head.
