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Surprise! It’s tour time! (And falling-in-love time)

My traveling style doesn't look nearly this tidy. Or trendy.

My traveling style doesn’t look nearly this tidy. Or trendy.

I like to think I’ve gotten better at this over time, this touring thing, but every year it’s the same damn thing. I’m puttering along in the slow lane, same pajamas for four weeks at a time, being on call for 14 to 16 hours a day. These are dark days of winter, literally and metaphorically, when I go along to the occasional story slam or open mic, but only barely; it is so damn hard to drag my ass out of the house. I am definitely not thinking too hard about anything much further out than a month or two. My hibernating mind shies away from looking far. It’s too much work. Yes, I do fundraising where I have to talk about events and locations and shows that may be nine or ten months away. That’s just a placeholder, though! I don’t really know what’s going to happen that far ahead!

Except I do know. Of course I know. I have to know. Lead time for most venues is between 6 and 9 months, or longer, for the really snooty arty ones. For international legs of my tours, I am thinking and scheming a year or more ahead. I know what’s coming… and I’m never ready for it.

This year it’s hitting me particularly hard, because I have a countdown timer attached to the tour launch. Except it’s not set for the day I arrive in the UK. It’s set for the next day, the day I meet up with my UK lover at a particular London train station on April 24. Now, that thing has been ticking down since the end of September. Hell, it’s on my bookmark list. But so in love am I that my mind has been kind of glossing over the tour part and just thinking about Making Out against Historic Buildings! And Sex Toy Shops! And Delirious Fucking! And Passionate Declarations about Feral and Mysterious Kinky Love, In Yet-to-Be-Located Country Meadow!

Ahem. My point is, it’s easy to get distracted from the real point—one-half of the real point—of me going over there in the first place.

I am trying to be serious. (Wait, my love is serious, too!) Okay, but I have shit to do. I am trying to establish myself as an artist on a whole ‘nother continent. (Yes, and I am trying to have a meaningful long-term relationship with someone over there, too.) Yes, of course, but there are shows to perform, not only mine, but spots in other people’s, too. Oh, RIGHT. Which means press releases to get out, already so soon. Which means sponsors to nail down, and print schedules to set, and this year I’m going to secure proper performer insurance, and my small pile of possessions always grows a little during the winter and it’s time to cull THAT down considerably, and oh shit, where am I going to store the Deerinator from end of April to early September?

(Yes, that is important, but also there is a love to cherish and grow, which means figuring out how to be legal over there, and where should I try to find sponsors, and how can we be together when I am going to still want to tour, and oh shit, where am I going to store the Deerinator FOR THREE YEARS?)

There are two timelines going on this year, tour and love. On one, I know all the dates, at least, and there are web sites to remind me. On the other I know nothing. Just the one ticking countdown. Two more months.

<deep breath>

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