For many of the pre-show rituals I do below, you may well say, “Well, you don’t HAVE to do those things?” You’re right–I could do nothing. I come just come out, zits and all. I could just come out naked slathered in baby oil. But I want to project showgirl realness like a drag queen projects Cher. And high femme drag is a process.

My pre-show prep involves:

• • • Removing my dark Mediterranean hair from my pasty Irish skin. I am 1/4 Italian, and it all went to my butt and my body hair. This will be an arduous process that involves bleeding, crying, or both.

• • • Hair dyeing–engage. Dark roots on blonde hair can be sexy, a la Brigitte Bardot. Salt and pepper roots on brassy locks–not so much.

• • • Fingernail/toenails shellacking.

• • • No clean undies. I will be forced to beat up one of my defenseless neighbors in order to secure the downstairs washing machine.

• • • While washing undies/beating up neighbor, I will bork up my manicure.

• • • WHERE IS THAT THING, I KNOW IT’S IN THIS CLOSET.

• • • Stopping by the closest nail salon for eyebrow shaping and pray they don’t take off half my eyebrow. I will be wearing flip-flops, so my homemade pedicure job can be judged by all.

• • • Missing a critical clothing piece/prop–I will end up purchasing it at a costume shop for far too much money.

• • • Realizing I cannot do the thing I wanted to do because I could not acquire certain clothing piece/prop after hours of searching the whole goddamn city, so I will kick inanimate object.

• • • In process of kicking, I will bork up my pedicure.

• • • Wait, what time is it?