Show-girl!

One solitary dancer out of say, about 100 had a boob job, and that got me thinking.

I went to Las Vegas last week, from Sunday to Thursday as it was Spring Break. I stayed at Angie Rizzo's dad's place with Angie and her friend Gabby. Angie is a photo BFA3, and she's really nice. Very mature, but funny too. We work on CAP together. We mainly chilled, but also went for a swim in a casino/hotel's fancy pool and joined Alexis, Calvin and Grace, Alexis's room mate to watch them give large amounts of money to the casino. I did not partake in any of the gambling business, because that whole risk thing has no thrills for me. Instead, I want and blew a small amount of money on eyeshadows I don't need from MAC, because they look so cute.

Angie's step mum got us a great deal on tickets to see 'Jubilee' - the longest running and most classic showgirl show in Vegas, its been going for years. It was amazing, such a spectacle. It was a song a dance thing borrowing heavily from ballet and Paris music hall. I loved it. Formation dancing and sequins and ostrich feathers just warm the cockles of my heart. I needed more. I came out from Jubilee at 9.30pm and went straight to the Folies Bergere, the only other classic showgirl show. I saw so many showgirls in one night it wasn't true. And only one had a boob job. In showgirl shows there are topless girls who move around less, have to be at least 5ft 8 and wear the taller headdresses. Only small pert breasts that don't jiggle to much are allowed. The other dancers, the 'ponies', don't have to be as tall and they do the more turn and jump moves and have smaller headdresses. They are the best dancers. The boob job stood out so much as it seemed to be the ugly detail that stuck out to unpick the suspension of disbelief that goes on with the whole spectacle. Topless revues go back to the Folies Bergere and Windmill in London and other music halls, that justified using semi-nude women by relating them to sculptures. They created classic scenes that the women just stood in, unable by law to move. Looking at dancers is a salacious business, even ballet has proved an excuse to look at young women's legs. Overt sexuality interrupts the constructed innocence of the pleasure of watching a nice girl dance. As you can tell, this boob job really got to the heart of my interests in my work.

We went in Angie's car. Although I have a car now. It's all a bit funny, I am renting it from a man, a private rental. His insurance only covers me within 100 miles of Santa Monica. Which is great. I have a car. But no road trips for me. Doing it this way has meant that I have circumnavigated registering the car, getting it insured and means that getting a California Driving License (I need to take a written test and an actual, real driving one too) is less urgent as I am not a car owner. Getting a car has totally transformed my life here and I now feel I am just begining to get LA and figure it out. It makes me wonder if I wasted last semester by being here and not having a set of wheels.

One of my first trips was with Dana to Burbank. I posted a request for burlesque ostrich feather fans on Craigslist, for a photo-shoot and woman replied with the offer of renting me some fans. I went with Dana to her house. It was awful. Her entire yard and garage was stuffed full of atrophied crap. She had bin liners full of showgirl outfits not used since the 90s - it would have been great stuff back in the day, but now, they were rotting corpses. Her garage stuck of mould and cat poo. She thought she could set up a business renting this stuff out to dance troupes, she thought she was sitting on a gold mine. I thought she needed the 'How Clean Is Your House?' team to come round and sort her life out. There was a very creepy atmosphere about the whole set up and me and Dana had to make our apologies and run as she started to argue with her very dodgy looking partner. Incidently, she's been campaigning for Hillary. She rings round numbers and talks to them about how great the Clinton woman is.

And I'm the proud owner of a Mamiya R-Z 67, which I keep pronouncing R Zee - because thats what everyone here calls them and I forget to say R Zed. I got it second hand from one of my class mates. I'm so dumb, she said she'd sell the whole kit for $1000 in December, but I didn't get round to paying for it til February, and I offered her $1100 then. I just found the original email now, doh! I'm so bad at getting deals! (BTW, more evidence that I really am a real photographer now, not just messing about)

I'm half way through Buffy Season 4 and Angel Season 1. It's the only thing I do when I have a spare moment. Which is great, but I think about it way to much. The other week CalArts held interviews for the Art and Photo MFAs - the first time they've done that - I got in on portfolio only. Current students toured the interviewees round the facilities. I had 4 to take round. One of them was an English woman, my age. I can't say any of this without coming off as absolutely petty, but here goes. She went to Goldsmiths, she has a place at the fully funded RCA, she is currently an artist's assistant in London, she is into 'Grime' music and her accent is more Northern than mine. I'm sure, reader, that you either get how these facts relate to me or you don't. But let's just say, I was Buffy when Faith came to town. Someone was stealing my act. And she's got a better act.

At the last Buffy class we watched 'Once More With Feeling', the musical episode, I love it. If you haven't seen it, check it out at: http://www.surfthechannel.com/info/television/Buffy_The_Vampire_Slayer/1152/S6E7.html - it really is worth watching.

On another note, that day Natalie Bookchin told me that if they had interviewed me I would have got a place at CalArts much sooner. I applied 3 times and was wait listed once so I sent in 4 portfolios. Yep, I really wanted to come and I'm stubborn as hell. And 'no', means nothing to me.

Dana is in a directing class and the other week I was her performer. It was only a thing for her class, but it was site specific so it was set in the car park. It was an improv piece that I did with an actor in Dana's class. We had to have an argument, that resolved with me unable to speak and finally having to say 'I love you'. All the actors couldn't believe that I, untrained person that I am, could get into character so much and make it really sad. So that was a nice little exercise. You only get that kind of opportunity at CalArts. I think I'm going to do another thing like that for Dana next week.

Last night I went to a viewing of some of Allan Sekula's films in Hollywood. The final film of the night was from 1973 in which Allan himself starred. It was a 20-minute improv sketch were he and his collaborator were miming making pizzas in a restaurant. It was so funny. Allan had shoulder length thick brown hair, wore a bandana, baggy jeans and oversize t-shirt and spoke with a street New York accent. It was hilarious. Really.

I'm feeling the end of the year coming. And I'm scared. I really am getting it at the moment, I don't want to stop for Summer break. I'm worried that the second year will go as quick as this year and that means that it will be over in 5 minutes. I'm just getting to really bond with the graduating second years so I gutted to have to say goodbye imminently. Liz Glynn, Lesley Dick's teaching assistant (who I really like but never get to hang out with and who went to Harvard) is a second year and I don't want to see her go. She is so smart and says such clever insightful things in class. Imagine my surprise when she drunkenly told me how impressed and intimidated she is with my comments in Buffy class, she said she just didn't get film like I did, she couldn't see the things I see. This makes me happy. Low culture, vernacular, television and other general trash are the things I can get and unpick, and my getting them is my admittance into higher more learned debates. I'm only really high-minded if principles can be related back to The Simpsons. But don't tell anyone that.