I was onstage at a casino last night, and......and...

AndIgottodancewithGregoryHines.

There. I said it.

And it's true! It's not just some pathetic lie made up in attempt to restore your respect for me since I haven't given a bonafide update since practically last weekend.

I got tickets to see Gregory Hines at the BeauRivage last night with Jessica and Kevin. If you don't know who Gregory Hines is, he is a world-famous tap dancer who has been in several movies including The Preacher's Wife and White Knights with Baryshnikov. He also won a Tony for Best Male Actor in a Musical.

Needless to say, I grovel at his tap-dancing, Tony-winning feet.

Before I danced with him, he was walking around in the audience just talking to people and stuff. He recognized some people he knew that were sitting right behind me. So I was inches away from him then, and he stuck his ass in my face when he hugged them. That was enough to send me home ecstatic, but there's more.

Later, he asked all tap-dancers to come up onstage. Now, I've taken ballet, pointe, jazz, and tap for ten years, so I thought it was safe to go up. There was a few of us, and we were all equally nervous so we stayed back from the center of the stage.

And suddenly, he arbitrarily walks up to me and asks me my name. Luckily, I didn't say Rhoda Morganstern or something equally stupid. I knew my name for once in my life when meeting a celebrity.

"Alexa," I stuttered, and extended my hand politely, trying desperately to control my Parkinsons-like quivering. And he just leans over and gives me a big hug and kisses me on the cheek.

"How long have you danced?" he asked.

"Ten years," I answered. Oohs and Aahs from the crowd. After all, this is Mississippi, folks.

"Wonderful!" he says, guiding me to center stage. "Now have fun."

Me? Have fun?

CENTER STAGE AT A TONY WINNER'S SHOW?

Never.

But my feet started moving and I began a dance that I learned last year in tap class to "Sing Sing Sing" from Fosse. It's a pretty fast and flashy dance, so everybody was pretty impressed, and I was sweating bullets and knowing that I was seconds away from falling flat on my ass.

And before I know it, he's come up beside me and has picked up on the steps I was doing. He starts to dance along. I let this go on for a minute after his band begins to play before I realize that HOLY SHIT, MY LIFE IS NOW BASICALLY COMPLETE. And I give a flashy finish, the crowd goes wild, and I hug him again. I exit back to left stage and he gives commentary.

"Wasn't that wonderful? Who knew we had so much talent around here in Biloxi!"

I was this close from telling him that I'm from New Orleans, bucko, people from Biloxi can't even spell tap-dance, so get it straight. But I figured that since he had fulfilled number four on my life's To-Do List, I could let it slide this time.

Then he invited all the tap-dancers behind him to do a time-step, which we did, and everybody clapped, and we ran offstage like little embarrassed roaches. Jessica was practically dying when I got back to my seat. "I took a ton of pictures," she said excitedly.

Great! I've always wanted pictures of me looking like an ass, dancing with a Tony-winner! Thanks!

But it's definitely going on my resume: Danced With Gregory Hines And He Was Impressed So Give Me A Job.

Unfortunately, I still have yucky, cruddy pneumonia, so I was miserable all the way down to the casino and all the way home. But I think I danced well enough for a person who was knocking on death's door a week ago.

It was really exciting, though: I got to walk through the casino, not once, but twice. I even looked two guards in the eye and they didn't stop me. Yay. Kevin slipped me a quarter to put in a slot machine just so I could pull the lever. Hopefully no one will identify me on the security camera tape and Kevin will get put in jail.

That would suck.

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Howard, one of Kevin's friends with whom I am vaguely familiar, also came with us last night.

He knows me more than I know him, because he's come to see a lot of show's I've been in, including Anne of Green Gables. He's a short, stocky, balding guy from Scotland.

Like a Scottish George from Seinfeld, if you can imagine without wetting your pants.

Before the show, we ate at a restaurant inside the casino. Since we were running late, Howard ordered a cheeseburger and Cabernet (red wine). (That's not saying much, because I ordered a BLT. *sigh* Old habits die hard.) Then he started telling us about his adventures in Scotland and England, such as when he lived above a pub or when he got his tea leaves read at a fair and it scared him so bad he ran screaming front the tent and he lost a bet saying that he wouldn't.

Howard's a funny guy.

I don't know. Maybe it's just the accent that makes him so funny.

Kevin started to get a migraine whilst we were in the Very Fancy Casino Restaurant, and Howard (being a physical therapist, or so he claims) got up, crossed to the other side of the table, and put his hands all over Kevin's head, saying he knew how to relieve a migraine with simple muscle manipulation, or something. It was so funny that practically the whole place was looking at him, so I figured what the hell, so I took out my camera and snapped a picture.

Imagine the tourists from Maine sitting in the next table: You're enjoying your filet mignon when you look over and you see a stocky, balding Scotsman with his hands all over another man's head and the other man seming to enjoy it, a truly Mississippian moment.

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I had an adventure with my Uncle Bob on Thanksgiving. (No relation to the infamous Diarylander by the same name.) My Uncle Bob is a brain surgeon that looks like an aging hippie. About 6'3, long white hair pulled back into a ponytail, and a goatee. We were trying to find his cat, Lennon. He decided to employ James Bond-like techniques (like using radar guns to find the cat), but sadly, the cat was inside a bureau so we couldn't have found it anyway. I think Uncle Bob (Uncle Bond?) just needed an excuse to use some of his techno gadgets. But he's cool, so I played along.

We also watched the James Bond movie marathon on TNT and Uncle Bob looked very envious. VERY envious indeed.

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This week, my former principal and teacher, Mr. Noland (flamed about in former entries), was arrested and put in jail for kidnapping and molesting two boys.

I always knew he was weird, but eww. He was a pastor at a church. He was my principal for five years at a private Christian school, and he taught me two subjects last year. I've done about five shows with him. I was the valedictorian of the last class he'll ever teach. Surprise, surprise, indeed.

Yeeaauuugggh. (A sound of disgust.)

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Well, I just bought the special edition DVD of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

_{why not try a holiday in sweden this year?}

It's really quite amusing.

_{see the lovely lakes...}

And it was made on a low budget, too.

_{the wonderful telephone system...}

It has lots of interesting special features, like Find The Killer Rabbit, three mindless sing-alongs, and select scenes from the movie done in Lego!

_{and many interesting furry animals}

I think it's one of the funniest movies ever made in the UK. Did you know that Michael Palin plays over ten characters?

_{including the majestic m00se}

I'd like to apologize for the problem with the subtitles. Those responsible have been sacked.

_{a m00se once bit my sister}

I apologize once again. Those responsible for sacking those people have just been sacked.

_{no, really! she was carving her initials on the m00se with an interstellar toothbrush given to her by her brother-in-law, Sven, and Oslo dentist and star of many Norweigan movies, including Hot Hands of an Oslo Dentist and Fillings of Passion.}

That's it, I'm ending it right here.

No more of this foolishness.

© alexa

The counter keeps breaking and pissing me off, so NO MORE COUNTER! Mwahaha!