less is more/peace

i think this will be my last post on this blog. it's too busy in here. and it's too exposing. i'm finding it hard to keep up with my online persona and to be honest i've lost interest in figuring out how much is too much or not enough or who's reading and what is real or cool. i got wrapped up in my own self-perceived hype.

so i'm starting over with a new blog. it's nameless at the moment. it's simple. free of dramatic sequels and tokens of my imaginary coolness. it's so much quieter there and i feel better about sharing it than i ever did about sharing this, my dysfunction and pretentiousness sloppily packaged in widgets, photos and prose. to my two-point-five readers, thanks for riding with me. i hope you'll join me on the next leg.

yes, less is more and i'm ready to give that a try.

peace,
laetiçia :)

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random chatter: everyday i'm hustlin'

1. these last few days have been at once hectic and enlightening and emotional and empowering. i made a lot of decisions, some i'm happy with, others i'm a bit regretful of. but i'm too much thinker-feeler. not enough doer. so i have to keep moving. stay on the path. the momentum's back, but it's got me seeing things as they relate to reality. no flying high on grand faith and feeling. i'm going to make these dreams of mine real life. this year has to be the year. i can't see the possibilities outside of my goals. this plan has to work. there is no plan b.

2. in the last week, i've auditioned like mad. i went ahead and crashed that cirque audition. for all my nervousness, i wasn't asked a thing. i was cut right away, but they have my things now. i'm hoping to go to their march audition in toronto. i haven't heard from ase yet *crossing fingers*, but i went out for another company inspirit dance based in brooklyn, which i landed. i have my first rehearsal this weekend. go me!

3. i discovered something a few days ago. my life was in perfect order when i was a disciplined student of dance. when i was taking class religiously and even with the stress of school and work, i got it done. i feel overwhelmed and just a step behind myself. so i'm getting back to it. i have to be dancing everyday, as exercise, as education, as reward, as work, as pay, as release.

4. i'm going to youngstown, oh at the end of the month. to judge a dance competition. as a kid, my local dance studio was way too avant garde for the competition scene, so i don't know the first thing about the competitive dance world. the stereotypes i have of these sort of events include underdressed, terribly trained preteen divas and the egomaniacal stage-momzillas who enable them. there will probably be a lot of bad dancing. a lot of glitter and neon lycra. but the pay is good and the organizers are covering for my flight, hotel room and meals, so i'm down!.

this covers my outta the city resolution for february. i was getting worried because my dc plans got tripped up... flaky people are the worst.

phil's from youngstown. le sigh.

5. i had my teacher training midterm last week. i stressed over it so much i wasn't sleeping! i had to create a lesson plan to present to the class. in the end, my teachers and my classmates loved my work. the comments and feedback i received were so rewarding! work hard, be successful.

6. i stood up to the two bullies in my life last week. on a whim in both the instances. i don't generally like confrontation, but i hate being treated like less than. one instance backfired and may cost me a mutual friend and a regular gig, and though there may have been other ways i could have handled it, i think the result could have happened no other way... c'est la vie. the other instance has laid the groundwork for every step i'll take from now on--most importantly, the ones to and out the door.

7. i told my boss that if i get a touring gig, i'd take it and wouldn't look back. i'll have been working there 6 years on my birthday this summer. that's much longer than i wanted. i'm ready to go. i'm waiting patiently for my escape plan to materialize. *geevus take the wheeeel!*

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dancing vs. being broke

imagine my frustration and sadness as i sit here, eyes glassy, shoulders sore, fingers shaky from hours hunched at my desk while there are agents in the conference room shuffling through headshots and watching reels. i'm overhearing conversations between choreographers and producers. i'm watching students improve and be recognized. i'm saying "have a good rehearsal!", "merde! you'll be great tonight!", and "have a wonderful time on your all expense paid two-week teaching gig in australia!" i'm winding down and feeling stuck and wishing for the courage to just say "fuck it! i'm a dancer!"

do care about dancing more than i care about being broke?

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Guide to Fresher Lettuce: 2009 Edition

1. Bonne Année, Bonne Santé! I'm feeling 180° from where I was just a few days ago. The new year brought an incredible momentum that I pray won't evaporate. It feels so good to feel motivated towards an ultimate goal. I'm very excited about this year and as a matter of fact I'm quite proud of all that I accomplished in 2008. I had to sit and remind myself that while it might feel like my drive waned toward the end of the year, all that I'm doing is moving me in the right direction. I can be assured of that. I was recently approached with a request to teach abroad. While I'm not totally confident in my experience, this will only be a rung on my ladder, for better or worse. I just need to stay focused and get a press kit together, most importantly a performance/choreography reel. More on that soon.

2. I spent my first New Year's Eve out this year. I shelled out $30 for the AfroPunk/Coup D'etat Brooklyn Punk N' Paint Party. It was in a loft in Soho with some of the scene's well known live painters lining the walls and Dante's Fried Chicken providing the grub. I rolled solo, and while I generally avoid drinking when I'm not around people I trust, I wanted to throw my inhibitions out with 2008. I happily took advantage of the open bar and the cheap drink tickets and quickly went from nice to inebriated by 1am. I left not long after that, sliding all the way down the steep staircase from the 4th floor walkup, not feeling confident enough in my really high, slightly loose pumps to make down upright. I did manage to snag a number before I stumbled out. Go me. The three-plus-hour trip home was cold and frustrating and my bed couldn't have been more welcoming when I finally got to it. I'm proud of myself for going out alone and having a blast alone and having the good sense to make it home alone and in one piece. I let myself get discouraged sometimes, especially when I'm feeling tired. I want to be more social and this is how I have to make it happen. *pats self on the back*

3. I somehow never got around to making a list of resolutions in 2008 and I feel okay with that because I didn't put pressure on myself to get shit done. I just jumped at opportunities and was patient with the outcomes. This year, I'm going to be more proactive, however, and go a even further than just a list of resolutions. This year's Guide to Fresher Lettuce is a list of predictions. Inspired by this post, these are the moves I'm making in '09, no pressure, simply presence:

1. I will travel outside of New York once a month, exploring US cities through the spring and finally making my way to Europe this summer. I've already contacted former students overseas and friends in the States for advice and places to rest my head. I've gotten affirmative responses from everyone, further solidifying the accuracy of this prophecy!

2. I will set the foundation for being a self-employed Certified Pilates Instructor/Teaching Artist/Performer/Choreographer in 2009. I will develop a brand name, market myself, educate myself and make a comfortable living as an artist. 2009 will be the year I more match my salary currently sitting on my bum, as an artist.

3. I will immerse myself in the young art scene that in 2008 I so longed to be a part of. In 2009, I will have made a name for myself worthy of the interest of the powers that be.

4. In 2009, I will teach and land a performing job overseas.

5. Love will take a backseat to my career in 2009, saving me the distraction and heartache I suffered in 2008.

Here's to maintaining momentum in '09.
Cheers!

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Best of 2008

+ Month-long trip to Haiti in January on $500 where I spent time learning about my extended family, my people and my history.

+ Made a good amount of money as a stage manager for theater and dance, picking up tricks of the trade, later realizing that it's not really what I enjoy doing, and having the sense to walk away without burning bridges.

+ Signed with a print ad agency and booked an international commercial through said agency.

+ Created a brand and marketing plan for my shop, then watched my sales increase tenfold.

+ Danced with a new Company in which I learned the politics of being in a Company, the meaning of professionalism, and what it will take for me get to the next level in my career.

+ Landed a month-long residency with an opera production with a choreographer I'd worked with before, making contacts, learning Polish and finally taking control of my ego.

+ Came very very close to landing what I thought would have been my dream job and having the sense to understand that chemistry and fit are just as important as talent and training.

+ Acceptance into what would have been my last chance to participate in Ailey's Independent Study Program.

+ Was approached my several photographers for various project, including an auction for a production company run by a woman who will change my world in 2009. The photo was never sold, and is sitting in my room as a reminder and as motivation.

+ Made a promise to see one dance performance a week for the entire fall '08 season and stuck to it, better educating myself about dance overseas and inspiring me to travel abroad in search of my career.

+ Auditioned for a UK-based dance company, for which I made it to the final cut and whose work further solidified my goal of working overseas.

+ Returned to the source of my heartache/headache and finally letting go, then swiftly getting caught up in a disastrous situation with someone and having the sense to realize how disastrous it was.

+ Took a few steps closer to self-employment embarking on an intensive Pilates Certification.

+ Took even more steps with a Dance Education training course that will hopefully supplement my income as a working dancer while insuring me ;)

'Twas an incredible year! Looking back, it feels like it was a year in preparation.
Here's to maintaining momentum in '09!
Cheers!

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Mo' Money, Mo' Problems

i'm lucky to have so many patient people around me. mine has been waning for some time and I'm learning a good lesson. i'm having trouble snapping out of self-pity mode and i know i just need to jump, but i'm anxious and self-conscious and stubborn. and mainly i'm broke. not poor, but feeling locked down. i hear biggie... but i wouldn't mind a winning lottery ticket finding it's way into my hands.

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On: Tyra Banks' take on skin bleaching

Before even watching Tyra Banks' talk show, I guessed it would be a silly platform for Tyra's brand of grandiose inarticulate posturing, mimicking the idea of a down-to-earth inspirational and informational guru, but failing miserably because she's a fucking clown. The problem with Tyra is that she'll do a show on actual controversial topics, like skin lightening trend in the black community and MSM's unhealthy prorogation of the super waif, but she'll never delve deeper than the surface and she's completely ingenuous in the process. She's far too emotional when it's not necessary (see: vasaline give-away and "I'm not fat!") and then pretends to cry when an actual beating heart is called for (see: Chanel Iman and Keysha Cole). Top that off with her vapid awkward personality, her unconvincing "You go girl! I'm down!" monkey show, and her shameless habit of making every topic somehow be a reveal centered around her... I can't!

Case in point, the above clip is an recently aired episode of the Tyra Banks Show in which Tyra discusses the popularity of skin bleaching by black women and where the problems really stem from. First, I'll give her this: 20 minutes is not enough time to flesh out the meat of a topic so loaded as skin lightening, but I'm still annoyed by her inability to present the subject more than superficially!
What is the purpose of the doctor?
How comical is her little sidekick's "investigative reporting"?
Count how many times Tyra says "me", "my" and "I".
Why weren't the guests prepped to sound a little less foolish?
Why not find a woman who could come up with a convincing argument for skin bleaching? How little light did that lame faux expo shed on the desperation of these women while making them look even more silly?
Why not mention the statistics of women in South Africa or Congo or Brazil actually dying from the habit?
Why not mention some famous and successful dark-skinned women (Alec Wek, Angela Basset, India Arie)?
Is it me, or do the expressions on the audience's faces look choreographed?
How pointless was her chat with the three young boys?
Could she be anymore inarticulate when the words run out on her cards?

I hate to be a hater, but I more hate someone making light a subject that hangs so heavy in the hearts of so many women. And I can't give props to someone so untalented. Somebody turn that heffa's mic off... PLEASE!

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On: Past me/43things

I rediscovered my list on 43things.com and I couldn't help but feel a little sad, noticing how simple some of my wishes were. Not sad because they were silly, but because dancing in the rain, one of the tasks on my list, doesn't seem all that appealing anymore. I feel like I've lost my carefreeness. It used to be the case that dancing alone in my room to Stevie and spending half my days riding my bike along the Hudson Greenway would bring me so much joy. Now, so much of my time gets lost in my grind and I positively don't have the time or money to just have fun. And I don't know if simply telling myself to make the time would be a feasible idea. I'm looking into a second source of income and I'm desperate for a steady dancing gig. I'm barely scrapping by on the money I make at the studio. I have no social life to speak of. I wish for so many things! Don't mind me, I'm having another bad week.

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On: The Act of Not Crying

Somewhere in my childhood, I learned that crying was a sign of weakness. Man or woman, child or adult. Crying, and all its accompanying emotions are to be suffocated or, at the very least, relegated to dark, private rooms where you couldn't bother everyone with you sniffling. I don't know where I got that idea. My mom didn't cry when I was young. Then, in my teenage years, the men in my mother's life (my dad, her brothers) began to fall and fall apart. I remember for a long time feeling a deep seeded disgust for my mom, because she just couldn't get past her grief and misery and just keep it together. I hated it and I couldn't feel pity for her. I went to school the morning after my father died. It was two years later, in a college, chatting about men and love with my girl friend, that I first truly felt the weight of my dad's passing. I basically exploded in front of her, feeling dizzy, out of control and deeply deeply sad. I felt like I'd surrendered or that I'd lost the war.

Since then, that's pretty much how I handle the tough stuff; push it into the corners where I can forget about it and continue with everyday life dealing with the full force when it all bubbles over. I'm late to respond with my emotions. I would rather let things wash over me, leaving the decompressing for a safe private place where no one can tell me I'm weak and no one can see me lose.

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random chatter: karma, flying, and even more questions

1. This was a helluva week! Exciting. Exhausting. Frustrating. I'm rundown today. I didn't dance this week and that always puts me in a funky mood, sort of irritated and punchy. I finally exhausted all of my patience with a coworker who's personality tests my buddhahood daily. Everyone tip-toes around her. Even the higher-ups find themselves bowing down to her. This week, I gave up and gave back! And now she and I are not on speaking terms. Bump that! Just one less person to have to say hello to in the morning! Oy! Where does she get off?! Somebody needs to knock that sloppy (sic) off her damn high horse for real. Moving on...

2. That I didn't get Misnomer is starting to wear on me. Not because I really wanted that Company, but because I was so close to my dream. I know it's better this way, because it's even more clear to me that I would not have been a good fit for the Company, but I want to be dancing. And when I'm sitting around not dancing and I have to deal with the uppity fools I work with, I get on edge. So, I'm back on my grind, looking for that next audition, chanting for work and good karma.

3. I visited SLAM (Streb's homebase in Brooklyn) on Wednesday to take a rad trapeze class (pictures coming soon!) and decided not to go for the Streb audition later this month. I'm definitely not strong enough yet to fake my way through the stuff they'll be asking of me. Plus, it'll be a three-day audition that would force me to miss two days of pilates training, a day of work and another audition that I'm a lot more confident about. It doesn't seem like a worthwhile sacrifice. But, lucky me, because there were some technical issues with the trapeze that stopped the class for an hour and even though when all was corrected the crew stayed an hour later to teach the class anyway, I got a free class gift certificate! So I'm going back again in the next week or two. Fun!

4. I haven't seen Phil since June... about three months. He's been hitting me up constantly this last week. I'm pretty much ready to let go. I think he doesn't get that. The rest are starting to fall back... so strange. I think I'm repelling them. Because I don't feel so successful anymore and my cockiness is waning? Maybe.

5. It's hard to see people I danced with growing up or who are my age (or younger) become really successful dancers, while I'm struggling to find my way. I try not to compare because I know each one of us is different, with different strengths and different paths, but it's hard not to be envious. I want to be dancing full-time. I want to be a successful, admired, talked-about performer. So what am I doing? Am I doing it right? Am I making good decisions? These have been some of my rush hour thoughts all week. It's so busy in here!

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Gnarls Barkley: Transformer (Live from Abbey Rd)

Gnarls Barkley: Transformer (Live from Abbey Rd)

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Nope... Not this time.

So... after three auditions, a week of trial rehearsals, and nervous waiting and waiting, I got a call from Chris this afternoon that I would not be moving forward with Misnomer after all. To be honest, I'm pretty relieved. There were several times last week it crossed my mind that maybe I couldn't see myself working with these people, doing this choreography, going in this direction professionally over the course of two years. It would've been a serious commitment and the reality is, I didn't feel very strongly about the work. I am very very grateful for the time I was able to spend with the Company and with Chris. It was a great time.

I'm surprising myself with my own resilience. Just a few weeks ago, when I was sure I hadn't made the cut, I was sulky and bummed out. Today, I feel like that something great is about to happen; like the universe is working on plan I don't know about yet and my turn is just steps away. I believe in the power of determination; by simply saying there is absolutely no way that I will not reach my goals and that success is certain for me, it will be. And this is what I'm saying. Not getting Misnomer has opened a huge chunk of calendar space for auditioning, working and exploring! I'm actually quite excited!

Stay tuned for the real thing!

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On: The Peculiar Thing About My Men

1. I've never been so clear about the following fact: men are attracted to successful women. Not to say that I've, by any stretch of the imagination, reached what I would call success--I've got many many more steps to go. But I'm making moves... and I'm noticing a strange trend. Men I used to shamelessly fawn over to no avail are suddenly calling to talk about nothing in particular or leaving not so subliminal messages in my inbox. It's the damnedest thing.

2. There are a handful of them floating around in my periphery, hell-bent on distracting me from my course. They are handsome and smart and worldly and they all have really good things going for them. But, they all have defects significant enough to be deal breakers. Sexual attraction, conversational co-rhythm, financial solvency, a penchant for curbing drama, etceteras, etceteras are so key to holding my attention. So I'm talking the talk to keep them at bay, but I've got my eyes fixed. These dudes can't give me what I need-- I'm sure they can give a lot of exactly what I don't need!

3. I have never been attracted to men who can't lead the way... or those who can't understand and act on my subliminal lead. I remember reading in Robert Green's The Art of Seduction, those who are too dense or too proud to be seduced should be avoided at all costs. The frustration will foil a plan and kill the romance. When a man doesn't know what to do with me, I get annoyed and lose interest. What kept me hooked on Phil is that he always knew what to do next. He was just smooth like that. And though he wasn't into planning for the long haul, he was ace at romantic timing. He totally had me in his palm and if I ever stepped off or wanted to change the course of things, he could sense it and act accordingly. We were totally compatible in that sense. It's a shame that this is not all it takes to keep a relationship afloat.

4. I have a crush on a student of mine. He's older than me. Well-traveled and talented in many arts, a jack of all trades, casanova type. I day-dream about him regularly and I've invested way more time and energy on him than my job requires. It's really embarrassing. I'm almost sure that he's on to me, but then sometimes I think he's not getting my drift. I really just want him in my pants one time.

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To Future Me

1. I'm feeling pretty resolute about what I want in life and career. This opera gig, propping me in the middle of serene beautiful nature, miles away from hectic city living, has been such an immense blessing. I've been working on my chanting, looping a short lotus sutra recitation I downloaded so that I can concentrate better. I've been making calls and sending emails. I pray that I can sustain this momentum when I go back on Monday. I'm excited to get back to my daily grind so that I can start doing what I say I'm going to do. I need to get out more. Be more respectful of my time. Work on my intuition. And get back to impressing and inspiring me before I get caught up in what others have in the works.

2. I've been thinking a lot about what I want in love, too. That, I'm not so clear on. My dad died when I was 16, just when I was pulling my nose out of my books long enough to notice the boys were noticing back. I think about all the conversations I would've had with my pops about how to choose the right man, how he should treat me, and what kind of man he wants for me. Nearly ten years later, and I still can't figure it out. I'm totally lost when it comes to men. I know now, from Phil and the ones before, what I don't want. I just wish I were more clear on what I do want in a man. I need to be patient.

3. My mama is coming to see the operas tomorrow night. She hasn't seen me dance since AGORA II back in 2006, so I'm excited for her to come. I'm also happy because she never leaves the house to do anything that isn't somehow related to work (ie: a nurse's luncheon, a former patient's wake). Our relationship is improving so much and I suspect it's because of these extended periods of distance. I love my mother. I also love my independence.

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On: losing my last ally + good karma

1. I lost my last neutral ally at work yesterday. She's an Asian-American musical theater actress adopted by white folks. When I first met her, I got the sense she was someone I could relate to because like me, she's the only girl repping her people in the office; like me, her dance aesthetics spans further than what the school offers; like me, she's a no bullshit, low drama, "fuck it I'll do it myself" type of lady and she's easy to talk to and joke with.

It never occurred to me that the sort of out of pocket comments I catch coming out of the mouths of my white coworkers would ever come out of hers. Because she was my neutral ally. Neutral in that we weren't bound by our sex or our color or departments, but by our mutual respect and understanding of the other's daily fight. We can read each other's silences and dead pan expressions and side eyes. It's nice to have that sort of relationship in the workplace. Especially in this particular work place at a time when I'm coming to a crossroad and any little sly comment I overhear has me wanting to give up and get out. So you can imagine the remorse I felt yesterday afternoon when, in retelling a not so funny story, my neutral ally referred to another dancer and myself as "blackies". I questioned it before realizing what I'd heard and when she repeated it, I knew I'd lost one of the last things keeping me sane at that job.

A few weeks ago, I confronted my boss about using "nigger" in my presence. She's tall white mid-aged Bay area bred women who mentions at least once a day that she graduated from Columbia and at least once daily that she doesn't feel good. Working with her can be a struggle in keeping my positive outlook. She preaches positivity ad nauseam, but can be such a fiercely negative person. She talks shit about students and other coworkers. She's an attention whore and a bit of a megalomaniac. She regularly sticks her nose in shit that has nothing to do with her. She complains more than I can bear most days. She has a tendency to overreact and jump to conclusions which completely baffles me; don't you eventually learn why you shouldn't do that? All this of a Landmark Forum person. BUT... but she is a very good boss. She acknowledges me and rewards me. She's honest and open and I can say she's one of the best bosses I've had the pleasure of working with. She's been very supportive of my artistic ventures and was largely responsible for the total transformation of work ethic. I've learned so much about life and career and love and I actually owe a lot of my happiness to her.

Now, with all that said, it's tricky, raising the topic of racism and language with her and in a place like this. She suffers from that Carson Daily syndrome; Carson liked to switch up his host speak depending on the day's guest; that is, hood talk to the rappers, SAT language to politicians, and milquetoast to the teeny boppers. She likes to think she's down, which is fine, but remember that you're white and I'm black and you have no business saying "nigger" in my presence, no matter the context. I'm a fan of Quest and I think "Sucka Nigga" is a beautifully written etymological study of word. I don't need to hear you sing the lyrics word for fucking word right in front of me. I don't think you're hip. I don't think you're down. Yes, I do know the kind of person you are; like me you're curious about the world and it's people and their ways. But unlike me, you're not in the position to know why a filter is necessary when exploring. You've never had a noose drawn around your neck in a class photo. No one's ever called you "darky" or "nigger" or "nappy head hoe" or "black bitch". You're ignorant to my struggle. This is the same woman who was surprised by the number of black people who work at a health food market near the school and how nice and seemingly educated they are. The same women who says she doesn't know how to tell if a black man is handsome. I get it when it when she says she doesn't mean any harm and that she's just wants to know, but that doesn't make her comments any less out of pocket. And refraining from a word or being more aware of your words doesn't change the ideas you've got wired in you about a group of people.

This is my work environment. What is it about me that makes people think they can be that comfortable around me?

2. My wallet fell out of my bike basket yesterday morning as I was speeding to catch my train. There is a can collector who circles the train station every Friday. Sometimes, he talks out loud to no one in his strange voice about whatever is on his mind. He never bothers me much so I just ignore him and keep it moving. Well this strange old man was the one who found my wallet and handed it to the taxi stand at the train station. When I see him again, I going to thank him graciously and befriend him.

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Meditation # 7431 or Lettuce says DIY help is the path to succeeding at life

I've been trying to be clear in my own head on the reason for my deep annoyance of anything that can be dubbed "self-help". A teacher at the studio gave everyone in the admin office a deck cards printed with supposedly inspirational quotes for Christmas last year. When one of the girls in the office quipped about not receiving her own deck, I quickly and selflessly chucked mine at her. She makes a note to swivel her wiry neck around the corner to share with me the sage words of some crafty internet business owning house-wife. What is it about these books and decks and videos that make me want to roll my eyes? I can't quite put my finger on it.

When two co-workers mentioned the idea of having monthly The Secret viewing parties, I squished my face and gave the ill side-eye on the sly; two intelligent grown ass independent women discussing the need to watch a poorly produced cheesy ass DVD regularly to further discuss the sheer magnitude of its old-as-the-world, "duh stupid" points... QUE?!?! I mentioned out loud that I thought self help shit was "condescending", then I got a squish face and a side-eye. Now what I meant by "condescending", was that I feel that I have a pretty good handle on my life. I feel like there are times when I'm sad or mad or feeling inadequate or lonely and that those feelings are normal. I evaluate myself regularly and I have a sense of when I need to put myself in check. I was blessed with the gift of acute self-awareness and I use it well. Sure, I wonder if I'm doing things right sometimes. And, yes, quite often, I feel lost, but I don't think spending $500 on group therapy or buying book after book after book will really help me find my way.

And, not surprisingly, I happen to be fiercely independent and I've a slight problem with self-professed authority . So the thought of some pearl-earringed bumpkin who claims to have figured out the answer to overcoming depression or those shiny-toothed suits with the 900 easy steps to finding the perfect mate... the thought of those bamas telling me how to succeed at life is so completely preposterous. I know what my success looks like and I'm damn sure I don't need a televangelist or divorced marriage counselor telling me how to get there.

Moving on. I think this is also my problem with religion. I want spiritual health. I want peace and wisdom. What I don't want is the nagging that comes with most religion and the feeling that I have to be part of a group. I feel like my path to spiritual health is wide enough for only one. It's individual. It doesn't require church picnics and cash out of pocket and prayer chains. Not to say that there is anything wrong with these things. Everyone needs prayer and I love to eat, I'm just not the type of girl who needs group support. I just need quiet, to think things through so I can figure it out on my own without the two-cents of some know-it-all guru type making millions on the backs of the weak. Yes, DIY help seems like it would be so much more rewarding.

I need to think this through. Read The Artists' Way and watchThe Secret so that I can better pose my argument, because at the moment, I'm not sure I'm being clear on my point.

More soon...

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Getting back to basics

I've made the decision to quit stage managing and board operating to focus on my dance training and nurturing my performing career. I feel like I can't be committed to the gigs I'm getting as an SM because of scheduling conflicts, as I have a day job and often I wish I didn't have to spend as much time on the projects I sign up for. It's depressing to be locked down like that, especially when the hours I'm spending in rehearsal following scripts and jotting notes could be hours spent in class or company rehearsal or working on the shop. And while the pay for stage managing is, in most cases, better that what I'm paid as a dancer, I will never enjoy behind the scenes as much as I enjoy being the scene.

So, once my this crazy week passes (which includes tech week for two short plays and a children's recital this weekend), I'm going to sit down and update my dance resume. I'm then going to spend time on the shop which is in desperate need of attention and promotion. The store room needs work and I've got to get my sewing area cleared. Once that's taken off, I need to holler at the folks at UGLY to get my comp card and headshot printed--I think many of the photo's Day took of me are going to work well for that. I've still never enshrined my gohonzon and my walls, which I began painting a LONG time ago, need some lovin... for reals.

Yea, stage managing is low enough on my list of things I enjoy doing that I don't mind the forfeiting the occasional extra paycheck. I just need to get back to focusing on my own personal and professional growth. I need to be focusing on me.

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On: oversharing & my purpose for feeding the feeds

I've attempted, in the past, to say clearly why I blog. And since reading that senselessly long, really dull biographic article by Gawker's Emily Gould for Times Magazine, I spent time seriously considering my own purpose for posting.

I've had this blog for a little over a year now and I can remember first posting because it seemed like the thing to do. In the beginning, I was so naive in my posting. I wasn't self-censored for the most part and I treated my blog like the physical paper journals that I kept under my pillow. It was cool, but it was secret and practical. And happened to be way more public. I'm still pretty open about myself in my posts; much more than my public self is. When reading older posts, I find them to be pretty embarrassing, but no more so than when looking back at high school photos or reading secret notes passed between besties. This blog has helped me see plainly my personal growth. It's a good record of my past achievements and mistakes. I can read them and put the present into perspective.

I have another blog. That one is about my butt. Well my gut really and the cleaning of it. I started it to help me support my Master Cleanse cycles so that I could record the process and stay on track. And I thought if anyone were interested in finding out what a detox is really like, the blog would try to cover it in it's least glamorized form. I chose to be super open and graphic, which I'm still okay with because though I may come off as a prude in public, I'm not shy about poo. At all. There are a handful of posts, those posted between cycles, that were health-related and tended to be, maybe, uncomfortably personal for the reader. But again, I figured if anyone had questions I had answers (or at least a story) for, I figured it was worth it.

Back to ol' girl Emily's article and why I still share too much info about myself: I've never had the troubles of a popular girl. I have a tiny circle of friends and I'm very tight with my family. I'm shy at first and reserved later. And, as it were, I enjoy the idea of someone I know possibly stumbling across my posts and making some judgment or another. I understand that by posting links to my network sites and the shop and by posting my photos alongside very personal posts, I'm inviting any Joe to see me naked (sometimes literally). Now, I'm pretty clear on the fact that my life is no more interesting than the next person's. Everyone has relationship troubles. Everyone's been embarrassed or really fucking happy. Everyone has highs, and lows, and mostly in-betweens. Some can present their essentially boring lives more compellingly than others. Some blog about ugly bugs or the Bible. Some do this professionally. Me? I just want to expose my secret self a little bit. Be someone who can tell complete strangers what I'm listening to or what my dancing looks like or what I think about a boy I'm seeing. Just to put it out there so I and everyone can see. I guess that's very narcissistic of me. But if being so has given me an excuse to write, reflect and grow, then I'm okay with that.

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Now playing on iTunes: Donnie - Over-The-Counter Culture f. Phonte of Little Brother
via FoxyTunes

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On: self-promotion begets happiness or an epiphany regarding blatant bragging

I've been challenged by my Sister-from-another-City to get into the practice of bragging. We had a great conversation recently about what it is to be positive, vocalizing one's blessings, and the laws of attraction. Apparently the key to this women's inspiring disposition is her gift of shameless self-promotion (!); her ability to brag about her flyness daily. She totally blew my mind!

Growing up, the best grades were never high enough. The sharpest church outfit was never crisp enough. That cute boy on the block spitting game at you was always somebody else's first, someone flyer than you. I learned to remember to be humble because someone is likely going to knock you down. The closer you are to earth, the less painful the swipe from above (even if it's just outwardly; I'm a dreamer by nature ;P). Remember to be modest because the good and the happy are never too proud. So for me, humility meant never being too excited about all the great things that happened and politely acknowledging a compliment then moving on quickly.  So imagine my simple mind trying to wrap itself around the idea of bragging as a good thing! That shouting your blessings from the highest peaks regularly will multiply your blessings! Word?

So I've been seriously ruminating on this idea. I've been Negative Nilly lately as I watch my peers being recognized and landing gigs left and right. The more praise people were getting, the more I felt like whatever I've got going on wasn't worth mentioning. I felt insecure and jealous. I just tried focusing on my own path and remembering to respect my time. But after this revelation of bragging, I began to see its value: (1) you have to let people know what's up for them to know what's up. People aren't trying to find you, they want you to come to them. When they see how fantastic you are they'll tell you so, but you've got to make sure they see; (2) reminding myself of my flyness, remembering to bask in my light, and putting into perspective all the greatness I'm creating will make me a happy, fulfilled person. UREKA!!!

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I brag that I've finally and successfully kicked my PK habit.
I brag that I'm told that I'm loved daily.
I brag that I made good money last week doing something I love and I did it well.
I brag that I said "No, thank you." to something I didn't want to do even though it paid well, because it would surely be a mind-numbing, soul-killing gig.
I brag that I said no and I spent all day yesterday as I planned. I cleared the entire day so that I could stay at home and work on the shop and work on me.
I brag that I'm getting a raise.
I brag that I had the most decadent pistachio cupcake from Sweet Sugar Sunshine this afternoon and I nearly cried because it was just that good.
I brag that I bought four of those incredible treats and a slice of bundt cake to enjoy at home while I'm writing to you.
I brag that my googly eyes were returned last week... thrice!
I brag that I get to be creative all day everyday and that is truly a blessing.

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The next time I see L, I'm giving her a big sloppy kiss.

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Acquiring yin and yang or Meet Ceelo and Blue

I recently took in a pair of cats. One is gray and I named him Ceelo. He's nervous, timid. The other is Blue, the black one. He's more adventurous and outgoing. They're brothers. They sleep together. They groom each other. They are like yin and yang. I'm glad I was able to snag both of them. I wouldn't have had the heart to separate them. They remind me of my sister and me and they're exactly what I need in my life.


(please excuse my messy room... i'm still unpacking my haitian adventure... so?!)

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