"He killed her."
When time stands still,
You can't hear.
Because the words you just heard are too big to let any other sound in.
You can't see.
Because light is suddenly too bright, and causes everything to fragment and pixilate.
You can't speak.
Because when your heart shatters, all the pieces land in your throat.
When time moves again,
You find yourself sitting in a chair in the middle of a hallway, your body folded in half, arms wrapped around the back of your knees, rocking back and forth. And a refrain of "in, out" plays in your head as your body reminds itself to breathe.
You think of the last conversation, of what she'd shared with you only two days before, how she'd called and insisted that you get dressed and come out, how she'd made everyone dance, how tightly she'd hugged you.
The story plays in your head and you tremble at the thought of how scared she had to have been. And how brave.
You walk, in a desparate attempt to keep reality from catching you. You walk as you talk to friends, each of you repeating a story over and over again. A group of words that don't belong together. A story that will never make sense.
Five years later,
The feelings live just beneath the surface.
You don't take time or people for granted.
You can still feel the cling of arms that knew they were hugging you for the last time.
You can still hear her voice and how she used to fuss at all of you for not keeping up with each other. And it makes you grin.
You remember how you sat in a courtroom staring at the back of his head without blinking, the ringing in your ears as you listened to the guilty verdict being read, and the feeling of despair as you turned your head towards the courtroom door and stared until your heart realized she wasn't going to walk in.
You have learned that time won't heal the hole in your heart.
Her home and cell numbers are still in your phone. You can never again call them, nor is deleting them an option.
You still wish you had turned around that night and told her you loved her.
You remember that day five years ago when you answered your phone and heard your Soror, her best friend, say,
"He killed her."
It was a Tuesday.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Day 52: HEARD. Vol. 3
The people quoted below have two things in common, they're all adults and they're all people I've come in contact with over the past several months. With the exception of one title, their identities were not recorded and will not be revealed.
There are times in this whirlwind adventure when the dust settles.
It was during those times that I listened.
This is what I heard.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"I love daydrinking."
"It was like someone transported us to London, England on the most boring day of the year."
"Q-R-S. I know my alphabet. You can't confuse me."
"Toaster ovens are like, the best thing ever."
"How do you spell impactful?"
"I-m-p-a-c-t-f-u-l. But it's not really a word."
"Impactful? It's not?"
"Nope."
"How about thrilling?"
Me: "Will you write my check please?"
My Boss: "Sure. Your last name is Shaw, right?"
"Those dresses look like cheap witches at Burning Man, I got my costume at Rite Aid."
"We made out and I was so excited because it was just what I wanted!"
"And I was like, "Hey!" 'cause I'm like, you know, friendly."
"When you say cash only does that mean I can only pay with cash?"
"Pork is a dessert meat."
------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "I may not understand the people in my new reality, but I am grateful for them. And thoroughly amused."
There are times in this whirlwind adventure when the dust settles.
It was during those times that I listened.
This is what I heard.
------------------------------------------------------------------
"I love daydrinking."
"It was like someone transported us to London, England on the most boring day of the year."
"Q-R-S. I know my alphabet. You can't confuse me."
"Toaster ovens are like, the best thing ever."
"How do you spell impactful?"
"I-m-p-a-c-t-f-u-l. But it's not really a word."
"Impactful? It's not?"
"Nope."
"How about thrilling?"
Me: "Will you write my check please?"
My Boss: "Sure. Your last name is Shaw, right?"
"Those dresses look like cheap witches at Burning Man, I got my costume at Rite Aid."
"We made out and I was so excited because it was just what I wanted!"
"And I was like, "Hey!" 'cause I'm like, you know, friendly."
"When you say cash only does that mean I can only pay with cash?"
"Pork is a dessert meat."
------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "I may not understand the people in my new reality, but I am grateful for them. And thoroughly amused."
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Day 50: Daughter of a Man.
Though I am his daughter, I am not a Daddy's Girl.
My sister and I were raised by our Mom. She loved, taught, sang, laughed, chauffered, fed, hugged, worried, rejoiced, disciplined, bought, made... She parented.
And though I am sure my Father caused her endless frustration, she did not allow his daughters to hate him.
"You shouldn't speak to your Dad that way. He loves you."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes. Because he helped me make you."
As adults, my sister and I made the decision to have a relationship with him. We have learned to enjoy the time we have with him inspite of his sporadic presence during our childhood. He is an intelligent quirky man. He was a French professor for over 30 years, he ran a bartending school and owned a cleaning service. He was not one to show much emotion, but was generous with his praise. He is an excellent cook, an avid vegetable gardener, and, in his retirement, he has mastered the game of pool.
Our infrequent childhood conversations and visits with him were filled with the following mantras:
Him: "Who are the prettiest girls in the world?"
Us: "Kilah and Nza."
Him: "That's right!"
Us: "We won..., made..., achieved.... etc...."
Him: "That's great Kilah Wilah/Nza Pinza. Makes my toes tingle!"
I carry his dark skin, his wiry hair, his slanted handwriting, a few of his mannerisms and his mother's maiden name.
It was with him that I ate my first (and last) raw egg, learned to pickle cucumbers (a process which I have long since forgotten), got my first taste of the French language he adores, and learned my first reggae dance steps. He is frugal, into healthy lifestyles and cares little about material goods. He loves music, languages and African sculpture. In his own way, he also loves his daughters. He speaks deliberately and does not waiver once a decision has been made. He is not easily affected.
And now he is sick.
I learned of his diagnosis a few days before I left and last week's surgery two days before it occured. He waited until the last minute to tell me of his diagnosis and surgery on purpose.
Him: "I've just come in from the garden so I wanted to call and let you know that my surgery is the day after tomorrow."
Me: "Why didn't you tell me before? I might have been able to be there. And why are you in the garden this late at night?"
Him: "That's why I didn't tell you. And I had to get my collards in the ground."
He then went on to explain, in explicit detail, the information concerning his prognosis. In the months between his diagnosis and his surgery, he had researched, compared and questioned. He educated himself on every possible facet of his illness, treatment options, side effects and longevity.
As I listened to him detail everything from the growth pattern of his tumor to the place where the initial incision would be made, I realized that my Dad had armed himself with a plethora of information because he is scared. Part of his defense is knowing the twists and turns of his disease before he reaches them. He is not a fan of surprises.
His daughter shares that trait with him.
He is back home now, healing, resting and awaiting more tests and treatment. He is being well cared for. I spoke with him briefly and he explained his goal of eating more solid foods before he faded. For the first time my tall, lean, stoic Father sounded old.
And his daughter was not prepared.
My sister and I were raised by our Mom. She loved, taught, sang, laughed, chauffered, fed, hugged, worried, rejoiced, disciplined, bought, made... She parented.
And though I am sure my Father caused her endless frustration, she did not allow his daughters to hate him.
"You shouldn't speak to your Dad that way. He loves you."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes. Because he helped me make you."
As adults, my sister and I made the decision to have a relationship with him. We have learned to enjoy the time we have with him inspite of his sporadic presence during our childhood. He is an intelligent quirky man. He was a French professor for over 30 years, he ran a bartending school and owned a cleaning service. He was not one to show much emotion, but was generous with his praise. He is an excellent cook, an avid vegetable gardener, and, in his retirement, he has mastered the game of pool.
Our infrequent childhood conversations and visits with him were filled with the following mantras:
Him: "Who are the prettiest girls in the world?"
Us: "Kilah and Nza."
Him: "That's right!"
Us: "We won..., made..., achieved.... etc...."
Him: "That's great Kilah Wilah/Nza Pinza. Makes my toes tingle!"
I carry his dark skin, his wiry hair, his slanted handwriting, a few of his mannerisms and his mother's maiden name.
It was with him that I ate my first (and last) raw egg, learned to pickle cucumbers (a process which I have long since forgotten), got my first taste of the French language he adores, and learned my first reggae dance steps. He is frugal, into healthy lifestyles and cares little about material goods. He loves music, languages and African sculpture. In his own way, he also loves his daughters. He speaks deliberately and does not waiver once a decision has been made. He is not easily affected.
And now he is sick.
I learned of his diagnosis a few days before I left and last week's surgery two days before it occured. He waited until the last minute to tell me of his diagnosis and surgery on purpose.
Him: "I've just come in from the garden so I wanted to call and let you know that my surgery is the day after tomorrow."
Me: "Why didn't you tell me before? I might have been able to be there. And why are you in the garden this late at night?"
Him: "That's why I didn't tell you. And I had to get my collards in the ground."
He then went on to explain, in explicit detail, the information concerning his prognosis. In the months between his diagnosis and his surgery, he had researched, compared and questioned. He educated himself on every possible facet of his illness, treatment options, side effects and longevity.
As I listened to him detail everything from the growth pattern of his tumor to the place where the initial incision would be made, I realized that my Dad had armed himself with a plethora of information because he is scared. Part of his defense is knowing the twists and turns of his disease before he reaches them. He is not a fan of surprises.
His daughter shares that trait with him.
He is back home now, healing, resting and awaiting more tests and treatment. He is being well cared for. I spoke with him briefly and he explained his goal of eating more solid foods before he faded. For the first time my tall, lean, stoic Father sounded old.
And his daughter was not prepared.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Day 45: Lost and Found
I had an interesting weekend, but I can't quite get my ego in check enough to write it with the truth it requires. I'm working on that. In the meantime, I'll tell you about crazy cool today.
My Tuesday started with a hike. My friend A and I had been talking about hiking together for awhile. He has lived in L.A. his whole life but has never been. He said he wanted to do a 'real' hike, so I took him to my favorite Vermont Canyon instead of Runyon which can seem more like a steep walk.
Vermont Cyn is a Griffith Park trail that takes you to one of the peaks next to the Hollywood sign. It is a 2 hour hike that offers a 360 degree view of L.A., including the ocean, catalina island and Forest Lawn cemetary in Glendale where MJ is buried. Not to mention endless mountain ranges. The views along the trail and from the peak are breathtaking.
The price you pay to have your breath taken away is a series of super steep climbs along the ridge line of a couple of way too high mountains. There are times during that hike where I have actually considered calling search and rescue to demand an explanation of "What in the hell I was thinking when I decided to do this today" followed by a request to "Come get me off the side of this mountain!". The rush is addictive though, and I find myself hiking it with Kasey at least once a week.
A and I set out at about 830 this morning and made to the peak around 930. He enjoyed it, but admitted that there were times when all he could think of was "a way out.". The climb down which takes you by the Hollywood sign takes a solid hour. It is pretty easy and allows for great conversation.
On the last leg of the descent, I reached into my pocket to make sure I had all of my things:
Phone - check
Keys, which I carry to scare away rattlesnakes - check
Drivers License, which I carry in case I have an unfortunate encounter with a moutain lion or a coyote - MISSING
In a split second I felt my airways constrict, my stomach churn and my knees lock, all of which I masked behind bulging eyeballs and a gaping mouth.
It was hot, we were almost to the car and our legs felt like jelly, but we turned around and hiked back up with our eyes glued to the ground.
me:"A, I owe you my first born."
him: "I'd rather have a smoothie."
Half an hour back into our re-climb I called it and full on panic set in as I realized that my perfectly good, nowhere near expired, matches the tag on my car and insurance in my glove compartment, license was gone. I couldn't drive without a license! How was I going to convince the DMV to give me a CA license when everything about my car is GA?! How would I get a new tag?! California insurance?! I'm not even sure I want to live here that long!
I stopped my pleading prayer long enough to explain my plight to a police officer and a park ranger. They were both very sympathetic, giving me cards and phone numbers to call, but held out little hope.
Soft spoken, laid back, California calm A explained that it wasn't a big deal and then treated me to a smoothie.
Later on at the studio, I sat researching CA licenses, tags and insurance. I made my appointment at the DMV and laughed out loud at the realization that I would have to take a driving test. I then worked myself into a hot flash at the realization that the completion of these steps would mean that I would be in California for awhile. I am not quite comfortable with that thought yet.
I took a class to calm my nerves and then ran to the office to check Facebook like the good little addict I have become. Imagine my surprise when I saw the following in my inbox:
"Hi, my name is Stephen and I found your license in Vermont Cyn today."
Hi Stephen.
He went on to explain where he lived (about 3 minutes from my front door) and gave his phone number. We made arrangements for me to pick it up from a hiding place on his front porch.
God is good.
And I'm buying a fanny pack.
My Tuesday started with a hike. My friend A and I had been talking about hiking together for awhile. He has lived in L.A. his whole life but has never been. He said he wanted to do a 'real' hike, so I took him to my favorite Vermont Canyon instead of Runyon which can seem more like a steep walk.
Vermont Cyn is a Griffith Park trail that takes you to one of the peaks next to the Hollywood sign. It is a 2 hour hike that offers a 360 degree view of L.A., including the ocean, catalina island and Forest Lawn cemetary in Glendale where MJ is buried. Not to mention endless mountain ranges. The views along the trail and from the peak are breathtaking.
The price you pay to have your breath taken away is a series of super steep climbs along the ridge line of a couple of way too high mountains. There are times during that hike where I have actually considered calling search and rescue to demand an explanation of "What in the hell I was thinking when I decided to do this today" followed by a request to "Come get me off the side of this mountain!". The rush is addictive though, and I find myself hiking it with Kasey at least once a week.
A and I set out at about 830 this morning and made to the peak around 930. He enjoyed it, but admitted that there were times when all he could think of was "a way out.". The climb down which takes you by the Hollywood sign takes a solid hour. It is pretty easy and allows for great conversation.
On the last leg of the descent, I reached into my pocket to make sure I had all of my things:
Phone - check
Keys, which I carry to scare away rattlesnakes - check
Drivers License, which I carry in case I have an unfortunate encounter with a moutain lion or a coyote - MISSING
In a split second I felt my airways constrict, my stomach churn and my knees lock, all of which I masked behind bulging eyeballs and a gaping mouth.
It was hot, we were almost to the car and our legs felt like jelly, but we turned around and hiked back up with our eyes glued to the ground.
me:"A, I owe you my first born."
him: "I'd rather have a smoothie."
Half an hour back into our re-climb I called it and full on panic set in as I realized that my perfectly good, nowhere near expired, matches the tag on my car and insurance in my glove compartment, license was gone. I couldn't drive without a license! How was I going to convince the DMV to give me a CA license when everything about my car is GA?! How would I get a new tag?! California insurance?! I'm not even sure I want to live here that long!
I stopped my pleading prayer long enough to explain my plight to a police officer and a park ranger. They were both very sympathetic, giving me cards and phone numbers to call, but held out little hope.
Soft spoken, laid back, California calm A explained that it wasn't a big deal and then treated me to a smoothie.
Later on at the studio, I sat researching CA licenses, tags and insurance. I made my appointment at the DMV and laughed out loud at the realization that I would have to take a driving test. I then worked myself into a hot flash at the realization that the completion of these steps would mean that I would be in California for awhile. I am not quite comfortable with that thought yet.
I took a class to calm my nerves and then ran to the office to check Facebook like the good little addict I have become. Imagine my surprise when I saw the following in my inbox:
"Hi, my name is Stephen and I found your license in Vermont Cyn today."
Hi Stephen.
He went on to explain where he lived (about 3 minutes from my front door) and gave his phone number. We made arrangements for me to pick it up from a hiding place on his front porch.
God is good.
And I'm buying a fanny pack.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Day 38: Free
I remembered today a time in my life that seems like a lifetime ago. While my teammates were and are some of the best people I've ever known, I was doing a job that had me so stressed that my body was trembling 24 hours a day and my hair was falling out. I felt strangled by the regulations that controlled my wardrobe, schedule and how often I answered the phone or responded to an email. I hated the fear that formed a knot in my stomach on the elevator not knowing what my inbox would look like on any given day or what new report I wasn't measuring up to. I cried on the way to work and on the way home.
I would sit at my desk or go to an empty office and stare out at the Atlanta skyline wondering why I wasn't doing something I enjoyed. Why wasn't I in some studio building sets or dancing or putting finishing touches on costumes or painting, gluing, nailing, taping...?
Today I spent the day at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art working on my boss' residency debut. I crawled around the floor in mismatched clothes helping to build 50 ft walls and an 18 foot divider. I cut, punched holes, reinforced, and tied together. I witnessed a space being transformed. I planned for the studio. I rehearsed and then watched my boss sew costumes in his hilltop house.
Tomorrow I'll be laying carpet on asphalt, re-tying, cutting, taping, dancing, running lights and celebrating.
I am tired.
I am covered from head to toe in fiberglass and itching like mad.
I am rejoicing at the realization of the answer to a whispered prayer.
I am free.
I would sit at my desk or go to an empty office and stare out at the Atlanta skyline wondering why I wasn't doing something I enjoyed. Why wasn't I in some studio building sets or dancing or putting finishing touches on costumes or painting, gluing, nailing, taping...?
Today I spent the day at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art working on my boss' residency debut. I crawled around the floor in mismatched clothes helping to build 50 ft walls and an 18 foot divider. I cut, punched holes, reinforced, and tied together. I witnessed a space being transformed. I planned for the studio. I rehearsed and then watched my boss sew costumes in his hilltop house.
Tomorrow I'll be laying carpet on asphalt, re-tying, cutting, taping, dancing, running lights and celebrating.
I am tired.
I am covered from head to toe in fiberglass and itching like mad.
I am rejoicing at the realization of the answer to a whispered prayer.
I am free.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Day 36: Life Stuff
I'm sitting here on my bed at half past midnight. My belly is full of steak and on-sale-for-$1 Haagen-Dazs raspberry sorbet, and my Pandora Debbie Gibson channel is rocking.
Reflections on this whimsical day:
-Woke up, got dressed for my hike and walked out into a wonderful cold Fall rain that would last all day.
-Went to flush the toilet only to realize that we had run out of water. Funny how a logical brain will subscribe to the belief that jiggling a handle will miraculously make water flow through pipes.
-Let six eggs explode because I put them on to boil and forgot about them. What happens to your brain after 30?
-Sat at work for an hour before I realized the roof was leaking a lake of water onto the studio floor.
-Mopped up the roof leak and then accidentally dumped the water back onto the studio floor, TWICE.
-Tripped over my own feet and fell into a closet and onto the studio's water heater, tearing the grill off the front. Still haven't figured out how to tell the boss about that...
-Met Sam Sparro, took his money, showed him how to use the studio sound system and smelled his bag without realizing he's the 'Black and Gold' singer.
-Took a great class from Ryan who is somehow managing to teach while choreographing and orchestrating his first of three shows for MOCA (L.A. Museum of Contemporary Art). He is injured and sleep deprived and still getting it in.
I loved this day.
I've also been sifting through this new feeling I've named Connected Disconnectedness.
I don't feel a connection to future, but I absolutely care about what's happening right now. I used to say things like, "Next year we'll do...." and "Next Summer let's try...", but I don't do that very often anymore, and when I do, it feels like the part of me that would normally mean it, steps out of the part that's speaking the words. I'm going through the motions but the sincerity isn't there.
Is living in the moment the same as feeling no connection to what might be?
I'd love to know what you think.
Funny and fascinating, this Life Stuff.
Reflections on this whimsical day:
-Woke up, got dressed for my hike and walked out into a wonderful cold Fall rain that would last all day.
-Went to flush the toilet only to realize that we had run out of water. Funny how a logical brain will subscribe to the belief that jiggling a handle will miraculously make water flow through pipes.
-Let six eggs explode because I put them on to boil and forgot about them. What happens to your brain after 30?
-Sat at work for an hour before I realized the roof was leaking a lake of water onto the studio floor.
-Mopped up the roof leak and then accidentally dumped the water back onto the studio floor, TWICE.
-Tripped over my own feet and fell into a closet and onto the studio's water heater, tearing the grill off the front. Still haven't figured out how to tell the boss about that...
-Met Sam Sparro, took his money, showed him how to use the studio sound system and smelled his bag without realizing he's the 'Black and Gold' singer.
-Took a great class from Ryan who is somehow managing to teach while choreographing and orchestrating his first of three shows for MOCA (L.A. Museum of Contemporary Art). He is injured and sleep deprived and still getting it in.
I loved this day.
I've also been sifting through this new feeling I've named Connected Disconnectedness.
I don't feel a connection to future, but I absolutely care about what's happening right now. I used to say things like, "Next year we'll do...." and "Next Summer let's try...", but I don't do that very often anymore, and when I do, it feels like the part of me that would normally mean it, steps out of the part that's speaking the words. I'm going through the motions but the sincerity isn't there.
Is living in the moment the same as feeling no connection to what might be?
I'd love to know what you think.
Funny and fascinating, this Life Stuff.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Day 34: Seven Months
Seven Months In And...
Faces are familiar.
Greetings are warmer.
Friendships are forming.
I've found a salon and stylist I love.
I can parallel park without hyperventilating.
My ears no longer pop when I'm driving up and down hills.
Gas prices no longer make my knees buckle.
People call me by name.
Plans are beginning to include me.
Conversations are easier.
I am finding peace.
My walls are wavering.
I am beginning to understand.
My concentration is shifting from what I'm missing, to what I'm experiencing.
There is predictability.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the things I find fascinating about this place is how time passes. It's only been seven months, but each day feels like it holds the experiences of several different lives. I was standing on a mountaintop this morning, and at Target this afternoon. Tomorrow I'll be working at the studio all day, but standing on the boardwalk overlooking the beach at night.
The breadth of each day exceeds everything I've ever known and therefore, at times, I find it too much to comprehend. Sometimes when I look back on the day it's as if someone else has lived it. It's a strange out-of-body like emotion that is intoxicating. And one that I'm still trying to find a place for.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Seven Months In And....
I still find new experiences refreshing.
I still gasp at the view from the top of the mountains.
I am still in awe of the Hollywood sign.
I still get lost.
The weather still confuses me.
I still have experiences that leave me happily asking myself, "Did that just happen?"
Seven months in and I am still humbled by and so grateful for the blessings on this path.
May it always be this way.
Faces are familiar.
Greetings are warmer.
Friendships are forming.
I've found a salon and stylist I love.
I can parallel park without hyperventilating.
My ears no longer pop when I'm driving up and down hills.
Gas prices no longer make my knees buckle.
People call me by name.
Plans are beginning to include me.
Conversations are easier.
I am finding peace.
My walls are wavering.
I am beginning to understand.
My concentration is shifting from what I'm missing, to what I'm experiencing.
There is predictability.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the things I find fascinating about this place is how time passes. It's only been seven months, but each day feels like it holds the experiences of several different lives. I was standing on a mountaintop this morning, and at Target this afternoon. Tomorrow I'll be working at the studio all day, but standing on the boardwalk overlooking the beach at night.
The breadth of each day exceeds everything I've ever known and therefore, at times, I find it too much to comprehend. Sometimes when I look back on the day it's as if someone else has lived it. It's a strange out-of-body like emotion that is intoxicating. And one that I'm still trying to find a place for.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Seven Months In And....
I still find new experiences refreshing.
I still gasp at the view from the top of the mountains.
I am still in awe of the Hollywood sign.
I still get lost.
The weather still confuses me.
I still have experiences that leave me happily asking myself, "Did that just happen?"
Seven months in and I am still humbled by and so grateful for the blessings on this path.
May it always be this way.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Day 30: Purpose.
I took a three day blogging break.
During those three days I filmed a youtube parody music video, hiked Vermont Canyon, enjoyed my first L.A. girls night, ate Chipotle for the first time, caught a cold and lived through the hottest day in L.A. since the 1800s with temps reaching 112 degrees.
I also questioned my purpose.
The question came 3 days ago as I sat at work chewing on recent events. I worked myself into a state of ultimate confusion, stood up and began my pacing back and forth, hands flailing, voice squeaking, end of my wits prayer.
"Lord, what am I doing here? Is this what it's supposed to be? Me here? Really? Why?! I'm not like most of these people. I don't have anything in common with any of them! I don't understand their world! Do I even want to? NO! Not really! I hear conflicting information, I don't know who to trust, I question motives of some and feelings of others. People say things they don't mean and think things they don't say. I'm told stuff about what others think even if they don't actually think it. And You expect me to grow?! In THIS?! Was this move a mistake? Because it sure sometimes feels like it! How do I feel so at home in a place where I see things I never believe existed? Am I ever going to get it?"
Then I exhaled and shook my head at my absurdity.
My friend B has been telling me for nearly three years to live in the moment. To see what's right in front of me and deal with only that, because it is the only thing that matters. And he's right. I tend to get so caught up in what may be that I spend my moments frivolously and, in doing so, color the future in ways that may never have been intended.
So in thanksgiving for the current moments I've been blessed with, I am grateful for:
Long lunches with T.
Warm hugs, smiles and kind words from S.
Belly laughs and pizza, wine & hair parties with M.
Silliness with MK.
A's ear.
R's answers.
Roses from M.
Cookies from A.
Hikes with K.
What a lucky Girl I am to be able to experience the kind of goodness that sustains me as phase after phase of this purpose is revealed.
"Lord, thank you for this journey."
"And I wouldn't change a thing. I'd walk right back through the rain, back to every broken heart on the day that it was breaking. And I'd relive all the years and be thankful for the tears I've cried with every stumbled step that lead to you, and got me Here." -- Jeffrey Steele & Steve Robson
During those three days I filmed a youtube parody music video, hiked Vermont Canyon, enjoyed my first L.A. girls night, ate Chipotle for the first time, caught a cold and lived through the hottest day in L.A. since the 1800s with temps reaching 112 degrees.
I also questioned my purpose.
The question came 3 days ago as I sat at work chewing on recent events. I worked myself into a state of ultimate confusion, stood up and began my pacing back and forth, hands flailing, voice squeaking, end of my wits prayer.
"Lord, what am I doing here? Is this what it's supposed to be? Me here? Really? Why?! I'm not like most of these people. I don't have anything in common with any of them! I don't understand their world! Do I even want to? NO! Not really! I hear conflicting information, I don't know who to trust, I question motives of some and feelings of others. People say things they don't mean and think things they don't say. I'm told stuff about what others think even if they don't actually think it. And You expect me to grow?! In THIS?! Was this move a mistake? Because it sure sometimes feels like it! How do I feel so at home in a place where I see things I never believe existed? Am I ever going to get it?"
Then I exhaled and shook my head at my absurdity.
My friend B has been telling me for nearly three years to live in the moment. To see what's right in front of me and deal with only that, because it is the only thing that matters. And he's right. I tend to get so caught up in what may be that I spend my moments frivolously and, in doing so, color the future in ways that may never have been intended.
So in thanksgiving for the current moments I've been blessed with, I am grateful for:
Long lunches with T.
Warm hugs, smiles and kind words from S.
Belly laughs and pizza, wine & hair parties with M.
Silliness with MK.
A's ear.
R's answers.
Roses from M.
Cookies from A.
Hikes with K.
What a lucky Girl I am to be able to experience the kind of goodness that sustains me as phase after phase of this purpose is revealed.
"Lord, thank you for this journey."
"And I wouldn't change a thing. I'd walk right back through the rain, back to every broken heart on the day that it was breaking. And I'd relive all the years and be thankful for the tears I've cried with every stumbled step that lead to you, and got me Here." -- Jeffrey Steele & Steve Robson
Friday, September 24, 2010
Day 28: Sur-Reality
Today I worked at the studio. I made copies of schedules, checked in students, traded ideas with K, and trained a front desk worker.
Tonight I had my first 'Hollywood' experience as a participant in a flashmob at a benefit for Livestrong.
The benefit was held at Smashbox in West Hollywood. Smashbox is a warehouse space and tonight it housed a silent auction, open bars, tons of food, cupcakes, cameras and pretty skinny people.
After my identity was verified against The List, I entered the outside area and couldn't believe my eyes. To my right there were photographers from every major tabloid in the grocery store checkout line with cameras poised. My presence, of course, was a colossal disappointment.
On my left was a Fatburger truck serving fresh burgers. I stood still for few seconds to take in the smell, and the part of my heart that has rediscovered it's adoration of all things meat skipped a beat. I was then apologized to by one of the event workers, seemingly because she crossed my path at a distance of less than three feet.
I was perplexed but I moved on to the open bar to order my triple sec white grape martini margarita from a bartender who looked like he was carved out of a block of perfection and spoke with an accent.
Once I entered the warehouse, I looked around and felt ashamed that I'd forgotten to check 70lbs of my body weight at the door, until I saw the tables of cupcakes and nearly fainted with delight.
I walked around for a bit, admired the cool art, smiled at unfamiliar faces and passed waiters with trays of cheese topped roasted endive and quartered peaches wrapped in prosciutto on my way to the green room where my fellow flashmobbers were drinking, eating pretzels, running choreography and watching a rerun of 'My Wife and Kids'.
I love dancers.
As we planted ourselves in the crowd before we danced, my friend D pointed out that I was standing next to Michael Buble which resulted in an immediate change of position due to sensory overload.
Midway through our mob I looked to my left and into Reese Witherspoon's face. She was smiling and clapping and shouted, "I want to dance with you guys!", so at the end when we wanted audience participation, I invited her out and she and her friends danced with us for a little while.
After the mob cleared, I thanked her and her friends for participating which resulted in a conversation about when we'd learned the piece, who we were, who our choreographer was and where we danced.
Ten minutes later I was double fisting my cupcake and Fatburger on my walk to the car.
Surreal.
Tonight I had my first 'Hollywood' experience as a participant in a flashmob at a benefit for Livestrong.
The benefit was held at Smashbox in West Hollywood. Smashbox is a warehouse space and tonight it housed a silent auction, open bars, tons of food, cupcakes, cameras and pretty skinny people.
After my identity was verified against The List, I entered the outside area and couldn't believe my eyes. To my right there were photographers from every major tabloid in the grocery store checkout line with cameras poised. My presence, of course, was a colossal disappointment.
On my left was a Fatburger truck serving fresh burgers. I stood still for few seconds to take in the smell, and the part of my heart that has rediscovered it's adoration of all things meat skipped a beat. I was then apologized to by one of the event workers, seemingly because she crossed my path at a distance of less than three feet.
I was perplexed but I moved on to the open bar to order my triple sec white grape martini margarita from a bartender who looked like he was carved out of a block of perfection and spoke with an accent.
Once I entered the warehouse, I looked around and felt ashamed that I'd forgotten to check 70lbs of my body weight at the door, until I saw the tables of cupcakes and nearly fainted with delight.
I walked around for a bit, admired the cool art, smiled at unfamiliar faces and passed waiters with trays of cheese topped roasted endive and quartered peaches wrapped in prosciutto on my way to the green room where my fellow flashmobbers were drinking, eating pretzels, running choreography and watching a rerun of 'My Wife and Kids'.
I love dancers.
As we planted ourselves in the crowd before we danced, my friend D pointed out that I was standing next to Michael Buble which resulted in an immediate change of position due to sensory overload.
Midway through our mob I looked to my left and into Reese Witherspoon's face. She was smiling and clapping and shouted, "I want to dance with you guys!", so at the end when we wanted audience participation, I invited her out and she and her friends danced with us for a little while.
After the mob cleared, I thanked her and her friends for participating which resulted in a conversation about when we'd learned the piece, who we were, who our choreographer was and where we danced.
Ten minutes later I was double fisting my cupcake and Fatburger on my walk to the car.
Surreal.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Day 27: Age
My little sister turns 30 today. When did that happen? She's supposed to be 7.
When did she age?
Tonight I danced for 3.5 hours. I took a class and then rehearsed for a flashmob. It's for a benefit for Livestrong and should be fun. I was watching the kids who are doing the first piece and marveling at the fact that I now refer to early twentysomethings as 'kids' because I no longer remember being one, and that they have boundless energy with seemingly no pain while I, during the last run through, could feel every fiber of every muscle tightening and locking itself into a position that will force me to limp around for the next few days.
When did I age?
I'm home now and have just finished eating a dinner of two boiled eggs and two rice cakes. I'm not on a diet, it was just already prepared. I am quite hungry. But the thought of the amount of energy it would take to walk to the kitchen, open the freezer and apply heat to my vast array of frozen food causes a furrow in the once smooth skin between my eyebrows.
The decision has been made then to use my remaining energy to shower. But, as I sit here with my legs crossed I am fully aware that my hips have solidified in their position. My legs will require my arms' assistance to unfold them and, thanks to my cemented hip joints, my feet will be facing due east and west as I hobble to the bathroom.
I love my...
I can't believe my...
I am feeling my...
Am I really my...
Age.
When did she age?
Tonight I danced for 3.5 hours. I took a class and then rehearsed for a flashmob. It's for a benefit for Livestrong and should be fun. I was watching the kids who are doing the first piece and marveling at the fact that I now refer to early twentysomethings as 'kids' because I no longer remember being one, and that they have boundless energy with seemingly no pain while I, during the last run through, could feel every fiber of every muscle tightening and locking itself into a position that will force me to limp around for the next few days.
When did I age?
I'm home now and have just finished eating a dinner of two boiled eggs and two rice cakes. I'm not on a diet, it was just already prepared. I am quite hungry. But the thought of the amount of energy it would take to walk to the kitchen, open the freezer and apply heat to my vast array of frozen food causes a furrow in the once smooth skin between my eyebrows.
The decision has been made then to use my remaining energy to shower. But, as I sit here with my legs crossed I am fully aware that my hips have solidified in their position. My legs will require my arms' assistance to unfold them and, thanks to my cemented hip joints, my feet will be facing due east and west as I hobble to the bathroom.
I love my...
I can't believe my...
I am feeling my...
Am I really my...
Age.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Day 25: The Puzzle
Three people in the last three days have asked me what I want to be and/or do, and I don't know how to answer them.
For the first time in my life I am not living in the future. I have no idea what this time next year will look like or where I will be. Is that smart? I dont know, but I believe that there is a reason for this feeling. The not knowing seems to makes sense.
I had lunch with a wonderful new friend today. I'm beginning to connect with people and that feels really good.
I'm still figuring out my place in this city, but I am okay with who I am again, and can be myself without feeling apologetic and deficient. I am on a path that will have many avenues and cross with things I don't understand, and that is good. I feel stronger now. I can walk this path, meet these people, have these experiences and take parts of all of it to add to Life's puzzle. Crazy beautiful mangled perfection this Life. And I am grateful to live it.
I am confident.
I am insecure.
I am brave.
I am a coward.
I am calm.
I am in awe.
I am fearless.
I am scared.
I am ready. And I have never felt more alive.
For the first time in my life I am not living in the future. I have no idea what this time next year will look like or where I will be. Is that smart? I dont know, but I believe that there is a reason for this feeling. The not knowing seems to makes sense.
I had lunch with a wonderful new friend today. I'm beginning to connect with people and that feels really good.
I'm still figuring out my place in this city, but I am okay with who I am again, and can be myself without feeling apologetic and deficient. I am on a path that will have many avenues and cross with things I don't understand, and that is good. I feel stronger now. I can walk this path, meet these people, have these experiences and take parts of all of it to add to Life's puzzle. Crazy beautiful mangled perfection this Life. And I am grateful to live it.
I am confident.
I am insecure.
I am brave.
I am a coward.
I am calm.
I am in awe.
I am fearless.
I am scared.
I am ready. And I have never felt more alive.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Day 24: Today
Today there was work, lots of spreadsheets, new ideas and a date on a mountain.
Details tomorrow.
Details tomorrow.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Day 23: Saturday
It's late/early and I am that wonderful kind of tired that comes from having a fantastic day.
Had a hike in the fog this morning, got all my laundry done and spent the evening playing beauty shop with a friend who wanted his hair done.
Feeling my way into my groove.
And tomorrow I have a date.
Stay tuned.
Had a hike in the fog this morning, got all my laundry done and spent the evening playing beauty shop with a friend who wanted his hair done.
Feeling my way into my groove.
And tomorrow I have a date.
Stay tuned.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Day 22: Panic Attacks and Apple Pie
me: "I'm not breathing out enough!"
"That's because your shoulders are on your earlobes."
me: "What if I hyperventilate?!"
"You won't. Just stand up and breathe."
me: "Oh."
I'm a bit of a perfectionist and so the fact that I won't be at the studio on our first Saturday of classes tomorrow is making me nuts. The fact that I'm leaving it in the hands of two people who have never worked there before is testing my breathing reflex.
Saturday is my only day off and I feel guilty.
I love it.
I love that I have a job at a place that I care so much about.
I love that one of my seasoned people volunteered to spend her day helping the new folks run the studio.
I love that even though she volunteered, I had to fight the urge to forgo my only day off to be there.
I love that I'm still fighting it.
I love that as frustrated and stressed as I sometimes feel, I am happy that this is the place I get to go everyday.
I also love that my friend K'Beetle'D convinced me to meet her at the House of Pie on the corner of Franklin and Vermont tonight for chicken wings and apple pie. Because there is nothin' about a panic attack that a l'il sugar can't fix.
Sweet.
"That's because your shoulders are on your earlobes."
me: "What if I hyperventilate?!"
"You won't. Just stand up and breathe."
me: "Oh."
I'm a bit of a perfectionist and so the fact that I won't be at the studio on our first Saturday of classes tomorrow is making me nuts. The fact that I'm leaving it in the hands of two people who have never worked there before is testing my breathing reflex.
Saturday is my only day off and I feel guilty.
I love it.
I love that I have a job at a place that I care so much about.
I love that one of my seasoned people volunteered to spend her day helping the new folks run the studio.
I love that even though she volunteered, I had to fight the urge to forgo my only day off to be there.
I love that I'm still fighting it.
I love that as frustrated and stressed as I sometimes feel, I am happy that this is the place I get to go everyday.
I also love that my friend K'Beetle'D convinced me to meet her at the House of Pie on the corner of Franklin and Vermont tonight for chicken wings and apple pie. Because there is nothin' about a panic attack that a l'il sugar can't fix.
Sweet.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Day 21: To Sum it Up
Thankful that payroll is done.
Adoring the beautiful weather.
Looking forward to my day off on Saturday.
Missing familiarity.
Wishing this was easier.
Appreciative but unsure.
Adoring the beautiful weather.
Looking forward to my day off on Saturday.
Missing familiarity.
Wishing this was easier.
Appreciative but unsure.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Day 20: Pieces of Ki
I feel like I should do something special in honor of my 20th blogging day, but I can't think of anything spectacular so I think I'll do a list.
Here are 20 pieces of Ki:
1. I have severe astigmatism in both eyes.
2. After living out of suitcases for five months, I can no longer stand the sight of folded clothes. Every stitch of clothing I own is on a hanger.
3. I find tremendous comfort in sitcoms from the 60's, 70's and 80's. I own the first season of Maude and can quote every episode verbatim. I also love Mary Tyler Moore, Rhoda, Diff'rent Strokes, Punky Brewster, Silver Spoons, Small Wonder etc... Watching these shows is like wrapping myself in a warm blanket.
4. I have most of the theme songs from my favorite sitcoms downloaded in my iPod. Out of all of them, Mr. Belvedere, Alice and Gimme a Break are the ones that make me deliciously happy.
5.I find bath taking torturous. I will be a shower taker until the day I die.
6. I want to name my first baby November.
7. I can't bring myself to drive above the speed limit.
8. Kilah May is a nickname that has been given to me by various people at various times in my life, which I find intriguing. My real middle name is Swann.
9. One of my greatest fears is that people will be disappointed in me.
10. I am absolutely addicted to all things sugar.
11. My Mom was an avid tennis player and much of my childhood weekends were spent in tennis clubs all over Atlanta.
12. My love of meat prevents me from being a good vegetarian.
13. I don't believe in camping.
14. I know how to shoot a gun, but I don't think I'll ever own one.
15. I adored my Granddaddy. To me he was absolute perfection.
16. I eat chitlins. And I like them.
17. I have never gotten a massage because I'm afraid of them.
18. Driving across the country was the best thing I never want to do again.
19. Cream of Wheat is my all-time favorite breakfast food.
20. My Mama almost named me Sturgis.
Here are 20 pieces of Ki:
1. I have severe astigmatism in both eyes.
2. After living out of suitcases for five months, I can no longer stand the sight of folded clothes. Every stitch of clothing I own is on a hanger.
3. I find tremendous comfort in sitcoms from the 60's, 70's and 80's. I own the first season of Maude and can quote every episode verbatim. I also love Mary Tyler Moore, Rhoda, Diff'rent Strokes, Punky Brewster, Silver Spoons, Small Wonder etc... Watching these shows is like wrapping myself in a warm blanket.
4. I have most of the theme songs from my favorite sitcoms downloaded in my iPod. Out of all of them, Mr. Belvedere, Alice and Gimme a Break are the ones that make me deliciously happy.
5.I find bath taking torturous. I will be a shower taker until the day I die.
6. I want to name my first baby November.
7. I can't bring myself to drive above the speed limit.
8. Kilah May is a nickname that has been given to me by various people at various times in my life, which I find intriguing. My real middle name is Swann.
9. One of my greatest fears is that people will be disappointed in me.
10. I am absolutely addicted to all things sugar.
11. My Mom was an avid tennis player and much of my childhood weekends were spent in tennis clubs all over Atlanta.
12. My love of meat prevents me from being a good vegetarian.
13. I don't believe in camping.
14. I know how to shoot a gun, but I don't think I'll ever own one.
15. I adored my Granddaddy. To me he was absolute perfection.
16. I eat chitlins. And I like them.
17. I have never gotten a massage because I'm afraid of them.
18. Driving across the country was the best thing I never want to do again.
19. Cream of Wheat is my all-time favorite breakfast food.
20. My Mama almost named me Sturgis.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Day 19: Short
Worked 13.5 hours today and almost accomplished everything on my to do list!
R spent the entire day at the studio for the first time ever. It was wonderful. Even though I still have the same amount of work, it makes a huge difference when R is there. Today, for the first time, I didn't feel like I was carrying the studio on my own.
I'm tired, but so thankful.
R spent the entire day at the studio for the first time ever. It was wonderful. Even though I still have the same amount of work, it makes a huge difference when R is there. Today, for the first time, I didn't feel like I was carrying the studio on my own.
I'm tired, but so thankful.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Day 18: The Conversation
"I miss my friends and my family."
"They miss you too."
"Is that supposed to help?"
"Are you focusing forward?"
"Maybe. I'm trying! It makes me tired."
"Why?"
"Because sometimes changing my focus feels like trying to stir hardening concrete."
"Add water."
"Not funny."
"You gotta keep stirring 'til you get your focus in check. It isn't supposed to be easy you know."
"Why not?! And don't give me that 'The greatest rewards come from struggle, no one ever promised you a rose garden' crap. I hate it!"
"You're a little fiesty tonight."
"I know."
"And some parts are rosey."
"They absolutely are. And I am grateful."
"You said you're feeling at home."
"I am. More and more everyday."
"Then why so blue?"
"I'm frustrated and lonely and unsure. Sometimes I just wish I could skip the learning part and get straight to the smooth sailing."
"What does smooth sailing look like?"
"It's pretty."
"Dig deeper."
"It's a comfort zone, you know? Like, no more having to try to learn and understand people's personalities or have them trying to learn you when you're not even sure of yourself yet and sometimes don't even recognize the 'you' that you're putting out there. And you know who you can trust and who you should be wary of. And you don't always fear that the rug is about to be snatched out from under you. And you stop holding your breath."
"That's a lot."
"Yeah."
"You don't have to hold your breath."
"I'm afraid that if I let it go, I'll get socked in the stomach."
"Maybe that's okay a little."
"I've had my fill of sucker punches, thank you."
"Touche."
"This is my first experience without a support system. I'm alone out here. I only have myself. I'm tired of playing grown up. I quit this game."
"Um, newsflash, you're not 'playing' grown up. You are a grown up."
"Ugh!"
"Truth doesn't always taste so good, eh?"
"It's a tad bitter."
"It's good for you. Are you praying?
"Constantly."
"Then you're never alone."
"Amen. Thanks for that."
"You're welcome."
"When will this up and down rollercoaster of emotions end?"
"Um, well, I don't know. I'm kind of on this journey with you seeing as how I AM you. The rational, thinking, not crazy, easy going part of you, but you nonetheless."
"I miss her."
"I'm right here, freak!"
"I know! But when are we gonna synch up?!"
"When you let go."
"They miss you too."
"Is that supposed to help?"
"Are you focusing forward?"
"Maybe. I'm trying! It makes me tired."
"Why?"
"Because sometimes changing my focus feels like trying to stir hardening concrete."
"Add water."
"Not funny."
"You gotta keep stirring 'til you get your focus in check. It isn't supposed to be easy you know."
"Why not?! And don't give me that 'The greatest rewards come from struggle, no one ever promised you a rose garden' crap. I hate it!"
"You're a little fiesty tonight."
"I know."
"And some parts are rosey."
"They absolutely are. And I am grateful."
"You said you're feeling at home."
"I am. More and more everyday."
"Then why so blue?"
"I'm frustrated and lonely and unsure. Sometimes I just wish I could skip the learning part and get straight to the smooth sailing."
"What does smooth sailing look like?"
"It's pretty."
"Dig deeper."
"It's a comfort zone, you know? Like, no more having to try to learn and understand people's personalities or have them trying to learn you when you're not even sure of yourself yet and sometimes don't even recognize the 'you' that you're putting out there. And you know who you can trust and who you should be wary of. And you don't always fear that the rug is about to be snatched out from under you. And you stop holding your breath."
"That's a lot."
"Yeah."
"You don't have to hold your breath."
"I'm afraid that if I let it go, I'll get socked in the stomach."
"Maybe that's okay a little."
"I've had my fill of sucker punches, thank you."
"Touche."
"This is my first experience without a support system. I'm alone out here. I only have myself. I'm tired of playing grown up. I quit this game."
"Um, newsflash, you're not 'playing' grown up. You are a grown up."
"Ugh!"
"Truth doesn't always taste so good, eh?"
"It's a tad bitter."
"It's good for you. Are you praying?
"Constantly."
"Then you're never alone."
"Amen. Thanks for that."
"You're welcome."
"When will this up and down rollercoaster of emotions end?"
"Um, well, I don't know. I'm kind of on this journey with you seeing as how I AM you. The rational, thinking, not crazy, easy going part of you, but you nonetheless."
"I miss her."
"I'm right here, freak!"
"I know! But when are we gonna synch up?!"
"When you let go."
Monday, September 13, 2010
Day 17: I Quit This DAY for Good
It has been one of those DAYS.
The kind of DAY where everything seems harsh and loud and prickly.
And everything you think and say and do is somehow wrong.
And the things people tell you are so piercing that it bruises your soul.
And your shoulders slump so deeply that you believe your body has forgotten how to right itself.
And your best answer is "I don't know.".
And you can't figure out why in the world you put forth so much effort when people don't really know what they want.
And all you want to do is curl up in bed and sleep, but you can't because your body isn't tired, it's just heavy with DAY.
And so, DAY, I quit you. I want to be with Good instead.
Good is simple. It is large but not demanding or loud. It is still, dependable and ever present.
All that Good requires is a desire to see it. Then, it appears.
Today Good was for me:
The person in my life who was held up and robbed, but had their life spared.
The clear blue sky, warm sun and cool breeze.
The tired that comes from the privilege of having a job to do all day.
The sweet friend who is excited about new possibilities.
The text pics of the beautiful happy babies I love so much.
The great parking space I found.
The time I get to spend next week with a guy I like.
The ever growing peace I'm feeling in my new home.
DAY started out with its hands around my heart, but Good fought hard and won in the end.
Thank you God for Good.
The kind of DAY where everything seems harsh and loud and prickly.
And everything you think and say and do is somehow wrong.
And the things people tell you are so piercing that it bruises your soul.
And your shoulders slump so deeply that you believe your body has forgotten how to right itself.
And your best answer is "I don't know.".
And you can't figure out why in the world you put forth so much effort when people don't really know what they want.
And all you want to do is curl up in bed and sleep, but you can't because your body isn't tired, it's just heavy with DAY.
And so, DAY, I quit you. I want to be with Good instead.
Good is simple. It is large but not demanding or loud. It is still, dependable and ever present.
All that Good requires is a desire to see it. Then, it appears.
Today Good was for me:
The person in my life who was held up and robbed, but had their life spared.
The clear blue sky, warm sun and cool breeze.
The tired that comes from the privilege of having a job to do all day.
The sweet friend who is excited about new possibilities.
The text pics of the beautiful happy babies I love so much.
The great parking space I found.
The time I get to spend next week with a guy I like.
The ever growing peace I'm feeling in my new home.
DAY started out with its hands around my heart, but Good fought hard and won in the end.
Thank you God for Good.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Day 16: Short
Free dance day at the studio was great.
Two memorable things happened:
I learned that one of the guys who volunteered at the studio today takes a picture with his iPhone everyday at 12:34 (1234). His alarm rings and he snaps a photo. Today that photo was of me. He's got some really awesome shots and I find it fascinating that for as long as he keeps this up, he will have reminders of exactly what was happening in his life at 12:34 each day. Kudos to you Mike and thank you for including me in your project.
I received an email from an ex. It looks like his computer has a virus that sent an email to all of his contacts. It was a llittle unsettling to open my email and see his name staring back at me.
Such is life I guess. Now for some well earned sleep.
Two memorable things happened:
I learned that one of the guys who volunteered at the studio today takes a picture with his iPhone everyday at 12:34 (1234). His alarm rings and he snaps a photo. Today that photo was of me. He's got some really awesome shots and I find it fascinating that for as long as he keeps this up, he will have reminders of exactly what was happening in his life at 12:34 each day. Kudos to you Mike and thank you for including me in your project.
I received an email from an ex. It looks like his computer has a virus that sent an email to all of his contacts. It was a llittle unsettling to open my email and see his name staring back at me.
Such is life I guess. Now for some well earned sleep.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Day15: Still
Tonight I was able spend time with a friend who just moved here from home, and I cannot begin to describe how great it felt. It was peaceful and comfortable. My spirit was still.
I didn't have to think about what parts of my personality were on display. My laughter wasn't forced. I didn't worry that I wasn't saying the right thing or that my jokes would be taken seriously or that I was leaving a lasting first impression that I wouldn't be able to undo.
I just was.
Some people come to L.A. to reinvent themselves and become someone new. There is very little accountability because no one knows who they are or where they came from. I'm finding more and more that I don't want to be reinvented. I want to grow and develop and embrace new experiences, but I don't want to lose the essence of who I am and become unrecognizable to those who know me. Or to myself.
In just a few hours the 9/11 anniversary will be here. Tonight as I pulled my flag pin out of my jewelry box, I thought about where I was that day.
I was working at the Concourse banking center and Ashley got a call from her Mom advising us to turn on the tv. Our only set was in the back breakroom so all five of us rushed back there and watched.
I will never forget:
-- The crystal clear blue sky.
-- The stillness before the second plane hit.
-- The sound of the jet engine as it flew into the building.
-- Someone standing next to me saying, "Did that just happen?"
-- All of the white towels and shirts, we assumed, hanging out of the upper floor windows.
-- Thinking that we couldn't imagine what the people in the restaurant on the top floor must be feeling.
-- The people jumping, and us wondering out loud how bad it had to be in those buildings if jumping out of a 100 story window to certain death was the better option.
-- The closeups of the men and women jumping from the building in suits with briefcases in hand.
-- The intermittent crashing sounds.
-- The reporters telling us that those sounds were bodies hitting the ground.
-- All of the paper fluttering to the ground and wondering how the paper survived and the people didn't.
-- The screaming and crying of the spectators.
-- The buildings collapsing.
-- The smoke and dust.
-- People running.
-- The mayhem that ensued.
And then I realized that because of the time difference, many people here in L.A. slept right through the whole thing.
I didn't have to think about what parts of my personality were on display. My laughter wasn't forced. I didn't worry that I wasn't saying the right thing or that my jokes would be taken seriously or that I was leaving a lasting first impression that I wouldn't be able to undo.
I just was.
Some people come to L.A. to reinvent themselves and become someone new. There is very little accountability because no one knows who they are or where they came from. I'm finding more and more that I don't want to be reinvented. I want to grow and develop and embrace new experiences, but I don't want to lose the essence of who I am and become unrecognizable to those who know me. Or to myself.
In just a few hours the 9/11 anniversary will be here. Tonight as I pulled my flag pin out of my jewelry box, I thought about where I was that day.
I was working at the Concourse banking center and Ashley got a call from her Mom advising us to turn on the tv. Our only set was in the back breakroom so all five of us rushed back there and watched.
I will never forget:
-- The crystal clear blue sky.
-- The stillness before the second plane hit.
-- The sound of the jet engine as it flew into the building.
-- Someone standing next to me saying, "Did that just happen?"
-- All of the white towels and shirts, we assumed, hanging out of the upper floor windows.
-- Thinking that we couldn't imagine what the people in the restaurant on the top floor must be feeling.
-- The people jumping, and us wondering out loud how bad it had to be in those buildings if jumping out of a 100 story window to certain death was the better option.
-- The closeups of the men and women jumping from the building in suits with briefcases in hand.
-- The intermittent crashing sounds.
-- The reporters telling us that those sounds were bodies hitting the ground.
-- All of the paper fluttering to the ground and wondering how the paper survived and the people didn't.
-- The screaming and crying of the spectators.
-- The buildings collapsing.
-- The smoke and dust.
-- People running.
-- The mayhem that ensued.
And then I realized that because of the time difference, many people here in L.A. slept right through the whole thing.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Day 14: Right Now
Right now:
I am two weeks into this blog journey.
I am thinking of the two people I learned have died. I haven't seen or spoken to either one of them in well over a decade, but I still can't believe they're gone.
I am praying for the families of these two people.
I am praying for a friend who is having a difficult time after surgery.
I am praying for a friend who is facing a scary unknown.
I am praying for a friend who is at a crossroads.
I am praying for a friend who needs a break.
I am praying for a friend who is figuring out what comes next.
I am praying that love will conquer in the lives of four people I love.
I am functioning on 3.5 hours of sleep.
I am tickled that my neighbor had to help me parallel park.
I am grateful he was there.
I am contemplating whether to let my stylist dye my hair.
I am pretty sure the answer is no.
I am wondering if men willl ever make sense to me.
I am enjoying the peace that I opened my heart to these last two weeks.
I am enjoying a job that is challenging me metally and emotionally, and rewarding me in ways that I never imagined.
I am enjoying the newness that each day here brings.
Right now it is 1:40am and I am having a Michael Jackson, Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam and The Jets lip synch dance party in my room.
Just because.
I am two weeks into this blog journey.
I am thinking of the two people I learned have died. I haven't seen or spoken to either one of them in well over a decade, but I still can't believe they're gone.
I am praying for the families of these two people.
I am praying for a friend who is having a difficult time after surgery.
I am praying for a friend who is facing a scary unknown.
I am praying for a friend who is at a crossroads.
I am praying for a friend who needs a break.
I am praying for a friend who is figuring out what comes next.
I am praying that love will conquer in the lives of four people I love.
I am functioning on 3.5 hours of sleep.
I am tickled that my neighbor had to help me parallel park.
I am grateful he was there.
I am contemplating whether to let my stylist dye my hair.
I am pretty sure the answer is no.
I am wondering if men willl ever make sense to me.
I am enjoying the peace that I opened my heart to these last two weeks.
I am enjoying a job that is challenging me metally and emotionally, and rewarding me in ways that I never imagined.
I am enjoying the newness that each day here brings.
Right now it is 1:40am and I am having a Michael Jackson, Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam and The Jets lip synch dance party in my room.
Just because.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Day 13: Long Day, Good Day
Why have I not blogged until 1am?
'Cause of this:
I'm at the boss' house high up on a hill in Echo Park having a meeting about this weekend's Free Dance Day event. We're talking, they're drinking... fun. This was taken during a smoke break.
I love my job.
And yes, we're still here.
'Cause of this:
I'm at the boss' house high up on a hill in Echo Park having a meeting about this weekend's Free Dance Day event. We're talking, they're drinking... fun. This was taken during a smoke break.
I love my job.
And yes, we're still here.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Day 12: "Y'all know Kilah is Special..."
I don't wear smug well.
Last night I stayed up until 2am wallowing in the fact that I didn't have anywhere to be this morning. I set my alarm for a leisurely 11:15 which, I concluded, would give me ample time for showering, breakfast and lounging before I had to be at the studio for our 2:15 rental. I laid in bed, did a shadow dance with my legs in the moonlight, then drifted off to sleep. I was actually grinning.
If any of you have ever doubted that God talks to us, let me put all your doubt to rest. This morning in my dream/half consciousness a voice clearly said to me, "Stella has a class this morning at 9."
I sat up and said out loud, "No she doesn't. Her class is Tuesday, and today is Mon..... sh*t.
I looked at my phone, saw that it was 8:39 and proceeded to have the following conversation with myself:
"I'm never gonna make it."
"Yes you are."
"It's impossible!"
"You don't have a choice!"
"What am I gonna wear?!"
"What difference does it make?! GET. UP!"
I then tore out of my bed, jumped into the closest pair of jeans I could grab, yanked a dark red fitted sweatshirt out of the closet and over my head, slipped into my leopard print flats; and actually paused to pontificate about what a great buy they had been at only $10 seeing as how they were coming in handy for a situation such as this; ran to the bathroom, cupped my hands under the faucet, threw the water at my face and nearly drowned.
Apparently one should hold their breath whenever two fistfuls of water come rushing at their facial orifices.
I attacked my mouth with my toothbrush, figuring that this was the one hygiene step that I, though I actually heavily considered it, probably should not skip and groaned at the toothpaste stain I made near my armpit, because I mean who doesn't brush their teeth with one arm flung over their head?
I grabbed my purse, my computer, and my keys, contemplated whether to grab my gallon of water, decided to take it or risk dying of thirst, ran out the door, to my car and began driving while having the following conversation with myself:
"I'm doing okay, I'm gonna make it."
"You may actually get there before 9."
"Yes! I'm thinking 8:55."
"You'll have to make every light."
"It could happen."
"You almost blew it."
"I know!"
I got to the halfway point of my drive, where Hollywood Blvd. becomes Sunset Blvd, before a traffic light stopped me. I was feeling a little off, so I felt around in my purse to make sure I had my phone. I did. I thought maybe I'd forgotten my water after all. I didn't. I could not for the life of me figure out why I was so uneasy until I reached to grabbed my left shoulder with my right hand. It instantly dawned on me and I gasped so violently that the intake of air nearly burned my throat.
"I'M. NOT. WEARING. MY. BRA!"
I covered my mouth with both my hands, let out a muffled scream and foolishly looked around to see if any other drivers had noticed my lack of support. It may not have been a big deal to some, but I have not left my house without the proper restraints since 1990. I was not blessed with natural perkiness. I couldn't turn back, because it was now 8:52. so I proceeded while scolding myself:
"You are going to a dance studio with 7,000 bottles of water, and nonetheless you grabbed your own gallon jug, but you didn't have the wherewithall to put on a bra?! This better be the best jug of water you ever drank!"
I turned into the parking lot at 8:55, apologized to the folks that were waiting and went about making a little physical motion as possible lest I give myself away.
At 11:00 K, my boss' business partner, was scheduled to arrive for her photoshoot. Upon hearing her motor, I crossed my arms over my chest, ran outside and said to her moving car:
"Just to give you an indication of my current state of dumb, I overslept, haven't showered and forgot to put on my bra so I'm going home to take a moment to re-evaluate my life. I'll be back at 2."
And thus my day began.
Thank you God for waking me up, holding me up and keeping my sense of humor intact through it all.
I love life.
Last night I stayed up until 2am wallowing in the fact that I didn't have anywhere to be this morning. I set my alarm for a leisurely 11:15 which, I concluded, would give me ample time for showering, breakfast and lounging before I had to be at the studio for our 2:15 rental. I laid in bed, did a shadow dance with my legs in the moonlight, then drifted off to sleep. I was actually grinning.
If any of you have ever doubted that God talks to us, let me put all your doubt to rest. This morning in my dream/half consciousness a voice clearly said to me, "Stella has a class this morning at 9."
I sat up and said out loud, "No she doesn't. Her class is Tuesday, and today is Mon..... sh*t.
I looked at my phone, saw that it was 8:39 and proceeded to have the following conversation with myself:
"I'm never gonna make it."
"Yes you are."
"It's impossible!"
"You don't have a choice!"
"What am I gonna wear?!"
"What difference does it make?! GET. UP!"
I then tore out of my bed, jumped into the closest pair of jeans I could grab, yanked a dark red fitted sweatshirt out of the closet and over my head, slipped into my leopard print flats; and actually paused to pontificate about what a great buy they had been at only $10 seeing as how they were coming in handy for a situation such as this; ran to the bathroom, cupped my hands under the faucet, threw the water at my face and nearly drowned.
Apparently one should hold their breath whenever two fistfuls of water come rushing at their facial orifices.
I attacked my mouth with my toothbrush, figuring that this was the one hygiene step that I, though I actually heavily considered it, probably should not skip and groaned at the toothpaste stain I made near my armpit, because I mean who doesn't brush their teeth with one arm flung over their head?
I grabbed my purse, my computer, and my keys, contemplated whether to grab my gallon of water, decided to take it or risk dying of thirst, ran out the door, to my car and began driving while having the following conversation with myself:
"I'm doing okay, I'm gonna make it."
"You may actually get there before 9."
"Yes! I'm thinking 8:55."
"You'll have to make every light."
"It could happen."
"You almost blew it."
"I know!"
I got to the halfway point of my drive, where Hollywood Blvd. becomes Sunset Blvd, before a traffic light stopped me. I was feeling a little off, so I felt around in my purse to make sure I had my phone. I did. I thought maybe I'd forgotten my water after all. I didn't. I could not for the life of me figure out why I was so uneasy until I reached to grabbed my left shoulder with my right hand. It instantly dawned on me and I gasped so violently that the intake of air nearly burned my throat.
"I'M. NOT. WEARING. MY. BRA!"
I covered my mouth with both my hands, let out a muffled scream and foolishly looked around to see if any other drivers had noticed my lack of support. It may not have been a big deal to some, but I have not left my house without the proper restraints since 1990. I was not blessed with natural perkiness. I couldn't turn back, because it was now 8:52. so I proceeded while scolding myself:
"You are going to a dance studio with 7,000 bottles of water, and nonetheless you grabbed your own gallon jug, but you didn't have the wherewithall to put on a bra?! This better be the best jug of water you ever drank!"
I turned into the parking lot at 8:55, apologized to the folks that were waiting and went about making a little physical motion as possible lest I give myself away.
At 11:00 K, my boss' business partner, was scheduled to arrive for her photoshoot. Upon hearing her motor, I crossed my arms over my chest, ran outside and said to her moving car:
"Just to give you an indication of my current state of dumb, I overslept, haven't showered and forgot to put on my bra so I'm going home to take a moment to re-evaluate my life. I'll be back at 2."
And thus my day began.
Thank you God for waking me up, holding me up and keeping my sense of humor intact through it all.
I love life.
Day 11: Strange Air
Something strange is in the air tonight.
This was one of the few Labor Days that I haven't spent with my family, but I was okay. I miss my family, but I didn't think about homesickness until tonight when I wondered why the feeling wasn't there.
My day was peaceful and uneventful. The studio was open, but today was the first day of the Fall schedule, so there were no morning classes. We didn't have any rentals scheduled for today, so I slept in a little which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Classes tonight were okay. Katie's first jazz class had 3 and Nina subbed for Ryan's contemporary to a crowd of 7. I was happy to see a turn out at all on a holiday. I am more than a little nervous that our web guy hasn't updated the website with the new schedule. As of 11:45pm we still haven't heard from him, hopefully we can get it corrected tomorrow.
The city feels a little empty. There was ample parking on my street which is unheard of, and very much appreciated. I didn't even have to circle the block. I turned onto my street, saw an available space and squealed with delight while my mind wondered what in the world was going on. After I parked, I threw my things in the house, grabbed a jacket and began the half block trek to the market. On the way, I witnessed a couple in bathing suits, run barefoot into the middle of Hollywood Blvd to take pictures of each other.
My holiday trip home is officially booked and I received my itinerary via email tonight. I am very much looking forward to spending time with my family, hanging out with my friends and being in a place where everything is familiar.
But as much as I am looking forward to home, a part of me is going to miss being here.
Something strange is in the atmosphere indeed.
This was one of the few Labor Days that I haven't spent with my family, but I was okay. I miss my family, but I didn't think about homesickness until tonight when I wondered why the feeling wasn't there.
My day was peaceful and uneventful. The studio was open, but today was the first day of the Fall schedule, so there were no morning classes. We didn't have any rentals scheduled for today, so I slept in a little which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Classes tonight were okay. Katie's first jazz class had 3 and Nina subbed for Ryan's contemporary to a crowd of 7. I was happy to see a turn out at all on a holiday. I am more than a little nervous that our web guy hasn't updated the website with the new schedule. As of 11:45pm we still haven't heard from him, hopefully we can get it corrected tomorrow.
The city feels a little empty. There was ample parking on my street which is unheard of, and very much appreciated. I didn't even have to circle the block. I turned onto my street, saw an available space and squealed with delight while my mind wondered what in the world was going on. After I parked, I threw my things in the house, grabbed a jacket and began the half block trek to the market. On the way, I witnessed a couple in bathing suits, run barefoot into the middle of Hollywood Blvd to take pictures of each other.
My holiday trip home is officially booked and I received my itinerary via email tonight. I am very much looking forward to spending time with my family, hanging out with my friends and being in a place where everything is familiar.
But as much as I am looking forward to home, a part of me is going to miss being here.
Something strange is in the atmosphere indeed.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Day 10: What a Difference a Sunday Makes
Sundays are busy at the studio, I think in part because it is the day of the class that started it all. Two years ago Ryan created Sweaty Sundays to give his friends and people in the community a non intimidating way to enjoy dance, and today he has his own studio. The students that come in are passionate and interesting and diverse and they, along with Ryan, create an energy that is intoxicating. I enjoy my Sundays with them.
After work I drove out to Santa Monica for church. My church is three blocks east of the beach, so my 20 minute drive resulted in a 30 degree drop in temperature. It always feels like Fall at the beach in the evenings, and I have fallen head over heels in love with it. My church with it's 70 year old Monseigneur who tells it like it is, the cold air, the fog that rolls in and the smell of the ocean have captured this Girl's heart.
One of my favorite parts of Mass is the few minutes after communion when we each get to take a few minutes for some one-on-one time with God.
It was during this time just a few months ago that I sat in my pew, praying with tears sliding down my face. I didn't have a job, I was scared, I didn't know what my next step was supposed to be. I pleaded for a sign, guidance, comfort and strength...
"God doesn't close a door without opening another, but sometimes it's hell in the hallway."
Tonight as I kneeled it struck me that I was happily talking/praying about the triumphs, frustrations, concerns and opportunities I'm experiencing and asking for guidance for the coming week. As I kneeled in the same spot where I had shed tears not so long ago, I grinned at the realization that my heart has been repaired and my circumstances turned around.
My hallway days in this part of my life have come to an end. I am joyful.
When I was leaving church I checked my phone and saw an unexpected text message.
Things might be getting interesting for this California Girl...
After work I drove out to Santa Monica for church. My church is three blocks east of the beach, so my 20 minute drive resulted in a 30 degree drop in temperature. It always feels like Fall at the beach in the evenings, and I have fallen head over heels in love with it. My church with it's 70 year old Monseigneur who tells it like it is, the cold air, the fog that rolls in and the smell of the ocean have captured this Girl's heart.
One of my favorite parts of Mass is the few minutes after communion when we each get to take a few minutes for some one-on-one time with God.
It was during this time just a few months ago that I sat in my pew, praying with tears sliding down my face. I didn't have a job, I was scared, I didn't know what my next step was supposed to be. I pleaded for a sign, guidance, comfort and strength...
"God doesn't close a door without opening another, but sometimes it's hell in the hallway."
Tonight as I kneeled it struck me that I was happily talking/praying about the triumphs, frustrations, concerns and opportunities I'm experiencing and asking for guidance for the coming week. As I kneeled in the same spot where I had shed tears not so long ago, I grinned at the realization that my heart has been repaired and my circumstances turned around.
My hallway days in this part of my life have come to an end. I am joyful.
When I was leaving church I checked my phone and saw an unexpected text message.
Things might be getting interesting for this California Girl...
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Day 9: This California Girl
It feels like home here in L.A. for the third day in a row, so perhaps it's time to make the official declaration.
In addition to a G.R.I.T.S, I am a California Girl.
In honor of my newfound peace, I have some observations to list, but first a quick recap of the day:
I enjoyed a great hike this morning. One of the un-smoggiest days yet! It was gorgeous and HOT. Looking forward to Thursday when the high is 68. Ran errands and washed my hair. Sitting here now building up the strength to flat iron it.
I am feeling every second of my 32 years tonight. Where is the Girl who could do more than three things in a day, party all night and not need a week to recover? This whole getting old gig is for the birds. But, like my Granny used to say, it sure as hell beats the alternative.
Observations of a California Girl:
1. Changing my attitude has brought almost instant results in my commitment to get un-spun. I have opened my heart to the people around me and can already feel the acceptance that was always there.
2. Focusing forward does wonders for perspective.
3. I'm finally learning shortcuts that actually lead to my destination.
4. Due to less than ideal parking circumstances in my 'hood, a great parking space can instantly trump my nighttime plans.
5. The lack of left turn signals in this city continues to baffle me, although I must admit that it is making me more courageous driver.
6. The view from the top of my favorite peak is 360 degrees of awesome. It never ceases to amaze me.
7. I am not the only person in L.A. who gets out of their car, looks at what most would label as impossible and fist pumps after successfully parallel parking.
8. I may be the only person who takes a bow.
9. I still don't know how to apply sunscreen and not end up looking like a glowstick.
10. I think I'm gonna like it here.
In addition to a G.R.I.T.S, I am a California Girl.
In honor of my newfound peace, I have some observations to list, but first a quick recap of the day:
I enjoyed a great hike this morning. One of the un-smoggiest days yet! It was gorgeous and HOT. Looking forward to Thursday when the high is 68. Ran errands and washed my hair. Sitting here now building up the strength to flat iron it.
I am feeling every second of my 32 years tonight. Where is the Girl who could do more than three things in a day, party all night and not need a week to recover? This whole getting old gig is for the birds. But, like my Granny used to say, it sure as hell beats the alternative.
Observations of a California Girl:
1. Changing my attitude has brought almost instant results in my commitment to get un-spun. I have opened my heart to the people around me and can already feel the acceptance that was always there.
2. Focusing forward does wonders for perspective.
3. I'm finally learning shortcuts that actually lead to my destination.
4. Due to less than ideal parking circumstances in my 'hood, a great parking space can instantly trump my nighttime plans.
5. The lack of left turn signals in this city continues to baffle me, although I must admit that it is making me more courageous driver.
6. The view from the top of my favorite peak is 360 degrees of awesome. It never ceases to amaze me.
7. I am not the only person in L.A. who gets out of their car, looks at what most would label as impossible and fist pumps after successfully parallel parking.
8. I may be the only person who takes a bow.
9. I still don't know how to apply sunscreen and not end up looking like a glowstick.
10. I think I'm gonna like it here.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Day 8: My Mama Did the Best She Could With the Child She Was Given
I have not been on my best behavior.
I left out some details yesterday because I am ashamed. But I promised honesty, so in an effort to keep my word, here's what happened at the studio last night:
Although I'm pretty organized, the minutea of payroll day stretches my sanity to its absolute limits. Last night my sanity broke.
Instructor B is a sweetie whose class I enjoy. He's always upbeat and friendly though I've noticed that he particularly enjoys my Payroll Day Altered Mental State.
As he was leaving the studio last night, he caught me mid PDAMS meltdown and the following exchange occured:
B: (jokingly) "You are too cute when you're all stressed out over payroll."
K: "I am not stressed out." (spoken with a full blown facial scowl through clenched teeth and stationary lips) "AND I'M NOT CUTE!" I hollered at him while running towards the window, stopping just short of pounding my fist on the glass.
and while i'm confessing i might as well mention that i growled at a lady at trader joes last week because she asked me to move my car when i was clearly blocked in and yes by growl i mean a lips pulled back over teeth neck lunged forward no sound a human being should ever make guttural groan.
Because that's the kind of ugly that lives and breathes within.
But today I was good!
And I'm really looking forward to tomorrow morning's hike.
I left out some details yesterday because I am ashamed. But I promised honesty, so in an effort to keep my word, here's what happened at the studio last night:
Although I'm pretty organized, the minutea of payroll day stretches my sanity to its absolute limits. Last night my sanity broke.
Instructor B is a sweetie whose class I enjoy. He's always upbeat and friendly though I've noticed that he particularly enjoys my Payroll Day Altered Mental State.
As he was leaving the studio last night, he caught me mid PDAMS meltdown and the following exchange occured:
B: (jokingly) "You are too cute when you're all stressed out over payroll."
K: "I am not stressed out." (spoken with a full blown facial scowl through clenched teeth and stationary lips) "AND I'M NOT CUTE!" I hollered at him while running towards the window, stopping just short of pounding my fist on the glass.
and while i'm confessing i might as well mention that i growled at a lady at trader joes last week because she asked me to move my car when i was clearly blocked in and yes by growl i mean a lips pulled back over teeth neck lunged forward no sound a human being should ever make guttural groan.
Because that's the kind of ugly that lives and breathes within.
But today I was good!
- I got up early to move my car for street cleaning day and although the streets never actually look clean, I didn't grumble about it once.
- I decided it was probably not a good idea to yell out of my window at the person who stole the parking place that he didn't know I'd reserved on my previous drive around the block.
- I smiled at strangers as I ate my bowl of pho and drank my apple juice.
- I walked by our neighbors storefront, an amazingly badass vintage tshirt shop where I will be doing a lot of Christmas shopping, and laughed with one of the owners as his friend, a big shirtless man in black booty shorts and a pink bandana, danced around the store to 'Grove is in the Heart'.
And I'm really looking forward to tomorrow morning's hike.
Day 7: "What can I do?"
I left my house at 8:20 this morning ( I am LOVING my 10 minute traffic-free commute!) and returned home at 12:15am. I am too far gone to do the simple math to calculate those hours. I just know they are a lot. And I worked them.
Between classes this morning, Austin, my boss' boyfriend and my sweet friend, stood at the front desk amidst the piles of paperwork I had spread from one end of our counter to the other and the 3 inch stack of data that needed to be entered, looked at me and said, "What can I do?".
I think I cried a little. I know I grinned a lot.
I don't know what Austin had planned for the day. What I know is that he went and got the envelopes I'd forgotten I needed, delayed his lunch to label those envelopes and delayed it again to get me a smoothie when he realized I was hungry and would not be able to leave.
Thank you Austin. Your lot a bit of kindness went an extra long way.
Payroll is finished, the deposits are prepared, the renters had a great rehearsal, the floor guy came and told me things I already knew, classes ran smoothly and a rough draft of a mass email is waiting to go out at 2pm today.
My eyes are red and my body is screaming, but life is good for this tired worn out Girl.
Between classes this morning, Austin, my boss' boyfriend and my sweet friend, stood at the front desk amidst the piles of paperwork I had spread from one end of our counter to the other and the 3 inch stack of data that needed to be entered, looked at me and said, "What can I do?".
I think I cried a little. I know I grinned a lot.
I don't know what Austin had planned for the day. What I know is that he went and got the envelopes I'd forgotten I needed, delayed his lunch to label those envelopes and delayed it again to get me a smoothie when he realized I was hungry and would not be able to leave.
Thank you Austin. Your lot a bit of kindness went an extra long way.
Payroll is finished, the deposits are prepared, the renters had a great rehearsal, the floor guy came and told me things I already knew, classes ran smoothly and a rough draft of a mass email is waiting to go out at 2pm today.
My eyes are red and my body is screaming, but life is good for this tired worn out Girl.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Day 6: Business, Boots & Bruises
Great day. The heat is back, but the mornings and evenings are cool. Well, the evenings are actually cold. Wearing boots in August is all kinds of awesome.
I spent most of the day at the studio. We're working out the kinks in my schedule and I think the changes will be good. The break I got this afternoon did wonders for my attitude.
Our new class schedule begins next week, which I'm really looking forward to. It'll be interesting to see the responses. K and I met briefly about our first Free Dance Day scheduled for the 11th. Our dance space is HUGE, 2000 sq. ft., but we don't have much space for folks to hang out in. It's more than adequate for day to day, but we're still not sure how to handle FDD crowds.
We'll be launching the work study program the week of the 19th. I really like the group we have, so I'm glad some of them are staying, but I'm also looking forward to giving more folks a chance to help run the studio in exchange for free classes.
Tomorrow will be my final 14 hour Thursday :). Morning classes then a rental followed by afternoon and night classes. I love my job and the studio, but I have to admit that those days wear me out! Tomorrow is also the close of payroll. With the exception of tomorrow's classes, my spreadsheets are up to date, deposit slips completed, note cards and class sheets clipped and filed. Tomorrow will be full of copying, spreadsheet finalizing, and check writing. Sweet sweet organization.
I had a slight mishap tonight involving my car door and my clumsiness, which resulted in a shiner on the inside portion of my left elbow bone. It's a real beauty.
I am so grateful to be where I am and doing what I do with the people I'm meeting on this portion of my path.
God is good.
I spent most of the day at the studio. We're working out the kinks in my schedule and I think the changes will be good. The break I got this afternoon did wonders for my attitude.
Our new class schedule begins next week, which I'm really looking forward to. It'll be interesting to see the responses. K and I met briefly about our first Free Dance Day scheduled for the 11th. Our dance space is HUGE, 2000 sq. ft., but we don't have much space for folks to hang out in. It's more than adequate for day to day, but we're still not sure how to handle FDD crowds.
We'll be launching the work study program the week of the 19th. I really like the group we have, so I'm glad some of them are staying, but I'm also looking forward to giving more folks a chance to help run the studio in exchange for free classes.
Tomorrow will be my final 14 hour Thursday :). Morning classes then a rental followed by afternoon and night classes. I love my job and the studio, but I have to admit that those days wear me out! Tomorrow is also the close of payroll. With the exception of tomorrow's classes, my spreadsheets are up to date, deposit slips completed, note cards and class sheets clipped and filed. Tomorrow will be full of copying, spreadsheet finalizing, and check writing. Sweet sweet organization.
I had a slight mishap tonight involving my car door and my clumsiness, which resulted in a shiner on the inside portion of my left elbow bone. It's a real beauty.
I am so grateful to be where I am and doing what I do with the people I'm meeting on this portion of my path.
God is good.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Day 5: Spun
"There's a feeling here inside that I cannot hide and I know I've tried, but it's turning me around."
To say that my time in CA thus far has been a whirlwind is a understatement:
A Tuesday night:
Girl says an earnest prayer.
A Wednesday morning:
Girl goes to work.
Girl calls an old friend during her break.
Girl gets a job offer.
Girl decides to move to California.
--Two Weeks Later--
A Wednesday afternoon:
Girl and her Mom leave for CA.
A Friday night:
Girl and her Mom arrive in CA.
A Monday Morning:
Girl starts job.
--Eight weeks later--
A Sunday afternoon:
Girl's car breaks down.
A Monday morning:
Girl gets car fixed.
Girl loses job.
--Eight weeks later--
Girl finds job.
Girl moves into apartment.
Today:
Girl feels immeasurably grateful and frighteningly unsettled.
"Im not sure that I'm aware if I'm up or down if I'm here or there, I need both feet on the ground. Why do I feel like I'm drowning, when there is plenty of air? Why do I feel like frowning? I think the feeling is fear."
This Girl has been Spun.
I can only liken this Spun feeling to a toy top. The kind with the string. You pull the string quickly and the top spins so fast that the patterns blur and the air around it creates an audible whir. When it's done spinning, it falls on its side as if to say, "can you just give me a moment before you do that again?".
Spun is a heart hardener, and it has sealed the parts of me that allow people in. The people that have more than proven their goodness are being kept at bay because the wariness of Spun still lingers. Spun is palpable. I see it in my interactions. I hear it in my words. It is my cloak. Patches of the recent past woven together to protect me from what might be.
I decided today that it is time to shed the cloak.
"In a different place, in a different time. Different people around me. I would like to know of their different world, and how different they find me."
It will be a process involving time, a lot of prayer and restoration of the belief that things are not necessarily to good to be true.
"Suddenly my world's gone and changed its face, but I still know where I'm going. I have had my mind spun around in space yet I've watched it growing."
It's time to get un-Spun.
**All quotations are from The Wiz, 'Soon As I Get Home' and 'Home'.
To say that my time in CA thus far has been a whirlwind is a understatement:
A Tuesday night:
Girl says an earnest prayer.
A Wednesday morning:
Girl goes to work.
Girl calls an old friend during her break.
Girl gets a job offer.
Girl decides to move to California.
--Two Weeks Later--
A Wednesday afternoon:
Girl and her Mom leave for CA.
A Friday night:
Girl and her Mom arrive in CA.
A Monday Morning:
Girl starts job.
--Eight weeks later--
A Sunday afternoon:
Girl's car breaks down.
A Monday morning:
Girl gets car fixed.
Girl loses job.
--Eight weeks later--
Girl finds job.
Girl moves into apartment.
Today:
Girl feels immeasurably grateful and frighteningly unsettled.
"Im not sure that I'm aware if I'm up or down if I'm here or there, I need both feet on the ground. Why do I feel like I'm drowning, when there is plenty of air? Why do I feel like frowning? I think the feeling is fear."
This Girl has been Spun.
I can only liken this Spun feeling to a toy top. The kind with the string. You pull the string quickly and the top spins so fast that the patterns blur and the air around it creates an audible whir. When it's done spinning, it falls on its side as if to say, "can you just give me a moment before you do that again?".
Spun is a heart hardener, and it has sealed the parts of me that allow people in. The people that have more than proven their goodness are being kept at bay because the wariness of Spun still lingers. Spun is palpable. I see it in my interactions. I hear it in my words. It is my cloak. Patches of the recent past woven together to protect me from what might be.
I decided today that it is time to shed the cloak.
"In a different place, in a different time. Different people around me. I would like to know of their different world, and how different they find me."
It will be a process involving time, a lot of prayer and restoration of the belief that things are not necessarily to good to be true.
"Suddenly my world's gone and changed its face, but I still know where I'm going. I have had my mind spun around in space yet I've watched it growing."
It's time to get un-Spun.
**All quotations are from The Wiz, 'Soon As I Get Home' and 'Home'.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Day 4: Normalcy
I'm beginning to get spoiled by Fall in August. It was beautiful and cool, and it was dark by 7:30. Here I thought I was going to miss having a Fall and God goes and gives me one.
We hashed out some schedule changes at the studio today. Overall, I'm excited about where we're heading and I must say that getting to go through this process is an incredible experience.
I had been running the studio alone for several weeks, and though it was stressful, it wasn't a bad stress. But it was interesting and disturbing to not be able to enjoy dance. I couldn't concentrate in class because I was constantly worried about whether a nail was going to pop through the floor (an effect of the new floor settling) or if someone would be towed for parking incorrectly or if my front desk person had enough petty cash, had everyone signed a release, etc... I was glad that I could multitask, answer questions, and keep everything going, but I was missing the joy that comes from completely letting go and going wherever the experience takes you. It feels really good to have Ryan & Kct back. We're all still adjusting. They are adjusting to not being consumed with NYC and the phenomenal undertaking that was the T project. I'm adjusting to the fact that although I now know every centimeter of that studio, can put my hands on anything without having to think about where it is and have created an airtight system of payroll, class tracking, filing etc... I no longer have to do it alone.
Tonight I took class and was able to concentrate on movement and corrections and my biggest external concern was reopening the burns on my elbows and knees. I gave in and experienced joy.
After class I enjoyed conversation and a dinner full of laughter with Maurice and Austin. My first time eating pho and I LOVED it! I could eat it everyday! Since it's cheap and within walking distance of the studio, I may do just that.
R, K and I got the Christmas calendar done and I will be home from the 23rd to the 1st. I'm expecting a phone call from my sister on Thursday. Praying for good news.
Today was normal. And that is all kinds of good.
We hashed out some schedule changes at the studio today. Overall, I'm excited about where we're heading and I must say that getting to go through this process is an incredible experience.
I had been running the studio alone for several weeks, and though it was stressful, it wasn't a bad stress. But it was interesting and disturbing to not be able to enjoy dance. I couldn't concentrate in class because I was constantly worried about whether a nail was going to pop through the floor (an effect of the new floor settling) or if someone would be towed for parking incorrectly or if my front desk person had enough petty cash, had everyone signed a release, etc... I was glad that I could multitask, answer questions, and keep everything going, but I was missing the joy that comes from completely letting go and going wherever the experience takes you. It feels really good to have Ryan & Kct back. We're all still adjusting. They are adjusting to not being consumed with NYC and the phenomenal undertaking that was the T project. I'm adjusting to the fact that although I now know every centimeter of that studio, can put my hands on anything without having to think about where it is and have created an airtight system of payroll, class tracking, filing etc... I no longer have to do it alone.
Tonight I took class and was able to concentrate on movement and corrections and my biggest external concern was reopening the burns on my elbows and knees. I gave in and experienced joy.
After class I enjoyed conversation and a dinner full of laughter with Maurice and Austin. My first time eating pho and I LOVED it! I could eat it everyday! Since it's cheap and within walking distance of the studio, I may do just that.
R, K and I got the Christmas calendar done and I will be home from the 23rd to the 1st. I'm expecting a phone call from my sister on Thursday. Praying for good news.
Today was normal. And that is all kinds of good.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Day 3: Reality.
Reality is perceptions shattered. Even the perceptions of ones who are defined by the perceptions of others. Especially those.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Day 2: 66 Degrees
The original forecast for today was high 90's, and I had planned a morning hike, so in an effort to beat the heat I rolled out of bed at 8am, donned my hiking gear (jazz pants and a tank top) and covered every inch of my exposed skin in gobs 50spf sunscreen. I understand now why they make special sunscreen chapstick for your lips. That stuff tastes like battery acid. I looked positively iridescent but I was super proud of my advanced sun protection until I stepped out of the door.
Today's weather never got above 66 degrees.
I am a G.R.I.T.S (girl raised in the south) through and through, and I enjoy the dog days of summer. They bring back memories of sticky August evenings spent hanging out in the rocking chairs on my Grandmommy's porch, the smell of dinner cooking in her kitchen, The Jefferson's and Judge Wapner on TV. My Granddaddy keeping cool by drinking ice water out of the glass jug he kept in the refrigerator. Sitting barefoot around the kitchen table with the sliced tomatoes on my plate that I initially hated but learned to enjoy.
I must admit though that California weather is capturing this girl's heart. This was a picture perfect Fall day. It was cold in August. I wore a hoodie. Tonight in Trader Joe's a lady had on a turtleneck. In August. This weather is the most wonderful gift of absolute mind-numbing absurdity.
My hike was great. I listened to Michael Jackson, Rascal Flatts and Boys II Men, climbed at a respectable pace, dropped my keys, breathed in crisp cool air, dropped my coin purse, grinned at fellow hikers, tripped over rocks, looked at horses and got tangled up in my iPod cord.
After 45 minutes of climbing, I saw this on the steepest part of the mountain leading up to the peak:
I don't know where he entered the trail, but as I stumbled up (as I always do on this part) sliding on sand and rocks, this elderly man and his cane went up with ease. He smiled at me as I took my place next to him on the bench and for a few minutes we both enjoyed the view.
Today California felt like home.
Today's weather never got above 66 degrees.
I am a G.R.I.T.S (girl raised in the south) through and through, and I enjoy the dog days of summer. They bring back memories of sticky August evenings spent hanging out in the rocking chairs on my Grandmommy's porch, the smell of dinner cooking in her kitchen, The Jefferson's and Judge Wapner on TV. My Granddaddy keeping cool by drinking ice water out of the glass jug he kept in the refrigerator. Sitting barefoot around the kitchen table with the sliced tomatoes on my plate that I initially hated but learned to enjoy.
I must admit though that California weather is capturing this girl's heart. This was a picture perfect Fall day. It was cold in August. I wore a hoodie. Tonight in Trader Joe's a lady had on a turtleneck. In August. This weather is the most wonderful gift of absolute mind-numbing absurdity.
My hike was great. I listened to Michael Jackson, Rascal Flatts and Boys II Men, climbed at a respectable pace, dropped my keys, breathed in crisp cool air, dropped my coin purse, grinned at fellow hikers, tripped over rocks, looked at horses and got tangled up in my iPod cord.
After 45 minutes of climbing, I saw this on the steepest part of the mountain leading up to the peak:
I don't know where he entered the trail, but as I stumbled up (as I always do on this part) sliding on sand and rocks, this elderly man and his cane went up with ease. He smiled at me as I took my place next to him on the bench and for a few minutes we both enjoyed the view.
Today California felt like home.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Day 1
Happy New Year.
For the next 365 days I will be journaling online. My goal is to keep track of myself, appreciate the crazy goodness of life and hold myself accountable for the choices I make. I am trading my cloak of silence for ones of honesty, openness and courage. Be patient. New wardrobes always require a period of adjustment.
365 days begins now.
Thanks for reading along.
-----------------------------
This morning as I stood in my room after my shower, I glanced over my shoulder and saw this:
This is Josephine. She is the resident cat at the castle, and she nearly gave me a coronary. She roams all over Hollywood and only comes home to eat. Because her owner lives on the second floor, Josephine gets into the building through whatever open window she can find. Still wrapped in my towel and already running late, I spent the next 10 minutes coaxing this kitty out of the apartment. I finally picked her up, carried her to the door and deposited her into the hallway. As I stood up I realized that I had also deposited my towel.
Day 1: Public nudity.
I've been feeling lonely, melancholy, exhausted and homesick. I've been questioning whether being away from my family and friends is worth the effort of building a life here. My Six Monthiversary sent me reeling.
But I believe that a certain amount of reeling is good for growth.
The strongest shiniest plants afterall, begin their lives as seeds buried in a pile of manure.
For the next 365 days I will be journaling online. My goal is to keep track of myself, appreciate the crazy goodness of life and hold myself accountable for the choices I make. I am trading my cloak of silence for ones of honesty, openness and courage. Be patient. New wardrobes always require a period of adjustment.
365 days begins now.
Thanks for reading along.
-----------------------------
This morning as I stood in my room after my shower, I glanced over my shoulder and saw this:
This is Josephine. She is the resident cat at the castle, and she nearly gave me a coronary. She roams all over Hollywood and only comes home to eat. Because her owner lives on the second floor, Josephine gets into the building through whatever open window she can find. Still wrapped in my towel and already running late, I spent the next 10 minutes coaxing this kitty out of the apartment. I finally picked her up, carried her to the door and deposited her into the hallway. As I stood up I realized that I had also deposited my towel.
Day 1: Public nudity.
I've been feeling lonely, melancholy, exhausted and homesick. I've been questioning whether being away from my family and friends is worth the effort of building a life here. My Six Monthiversary sent me reeling.
But I believe that a certain amount of reeling is good for growth.
The strongest shiniest plants afterall, begin their lives as seeds buried in a pile of manure.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Five Months, A Lifetime.
"Don't ask God to order your steps if you aren't ready to move your feet."
It has been awhile.
The honesty that this post required is what kept me from writing it until now.
Next Monday marks my 5 month California anniversary. To celebrate I am heading to the beach on the preceeding Saturday to stop time for awhile. To think. To pray. To listen. Quiet the noise, laugh, cry and marvel.
During the past five months:
My Car Broke Down.
Well, broke down is kind of harsh. It lost power.
While driving every gauge, light and dial would decide to take a little rest. The radio would stop playing, the cd would spontaneously eject. When it started happening regularly I decided to get it checked out. The prognosis was a loose battery cable. Most likely the result of the condition of the roads while driving across the country, combined with the condition of the roads in LA.
"It's going to cost $175 just for us to lift the hood. I don't know after that... Ms. Willingham, please don't cry."
I Lost My Job.
It seems like everytime I pray earnestly, a big thing happens. Five months ago on a Tuesday night I prayed for guidance and the next day I was moving to LA.
I honestly hadn't felt right since the day I started the job that moved me here.
What in the world was I doing? Had I made a mistake? What would everyone think if I decided to come back home? Will I ever make friends? According to everyone, I'm supposed to be happy. Why aren't I?
When will this gold start to glitter?
And so one night I prayed.
"Lord, I really don't think you brought me all the way out here to be unhappy. And I don't believe that I'm supposed to go home just yet. PLEASE show me something because this isn't working. I trust you. I won't flake out. It's me! I'm ready."
The next day I lost my job.
After I left the building I got in my car, took some deep breaths and wrapped my hand around the cross that hangs from my rearview mirror. "Okay." I said. And I drove off.
My Lettuce Obsession Almost Landed Me on Television.
I decided to pass on my 15 minutes of fame.
I was being considered for a show that would have highlighted my obsession with lettuce. My mom and my friend B willingly let me interview them for the producers. I detailed all of my absurdities about the vegetable I adore on film. But when it came time for the in home interview where I would be filmed eating, I flaked.
Honestly, I was afraid of looking like a complete nutcase.
The other night I was sitting outside talking to a friend. He had a beer, I had a bowl of mixed greens from the farmer's market. It was so good and fresh that I just wanted it plain.
About halfway thru his beer, he stopped drinking to stare at me as I picked through my bowl of greens and said, "I can't believe you're eating that lettuce like it's a bowl of potato chips."
I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.
There's something to be said for having moments like that without a camera in your face.
I Got a Dance Gig.
I danced for my first feature film last weekend. It was a blast. Our choreographer, Mecca Vazie Andrews is a phenomenal talent and one of the nicest most sincere and interesting people you could ever hope to meet. I adored the cast, and production crew. It was one of the best experiences of my life and one that I will always cherish.
I Landed in The Sweat Spot.
After I lost my job, while frantically looking for another, I called a friend who called a friend. A few conversations later I ended up as studio manager at Ryan Heffingtons dance studio, The Sweat Spot.
I love my job. The 12+ hour days. The people who don't quite know what to make of me just yet. The ones who decided to welcome me with open arms anyway. The dance family that I don't quite belong to, but appreciate because they love each other and make me realize how blessed I am to have a dance family of my own. The thoughtfulness of the people I work with warms my heart. I couldn't have asked to be placed in a better environment.
I love my boss, Ryan Heffington. If you don't know about him, get schooled :). http://www.sirheffington.com/ He is one of the three most brilliantly creative minds that I have ever met. The other two being Bubba Carr and Lee Blalock. And he has one of the sweetest souls.
I love Ryan's business partner Kristin. That girl is crazy as hell, and she works hard. We're both business minded and like to get ish done. We get each other and that is so refreshing. And she's nice to boot.
My days are made up of things as mundane as data entry and as thrilling as exchanging text messages with Mia Michaels about rehearsal schedule changes, watching her genius in action and everything in between.
We have classes as small as 2 students and as big as 75. I'm intrigued by the team and the students. They are incredible people. I live for that kind of diversity and talent. The energy of the place greets you at the door and makes you never want to leave.
What's Next?
I'm moving in two weeks. Thanks to a new connection with a dancer I've known for awhile but am just now getting to know, I will have my own room, my own bathroom and my own balcony in North Hollywood. We'll see if I can survive the heat of a summer in the valley!
After this 5 month lifetime, I am beginning to exhale. Just how many more lifetimes I will experience on this journey remains to be seen, but I welcome them.
My steps are being ordered.
I am moving my feet.
It has been awhile.
The honesty that this post required is what kept me from writing it until now.
Next Monday marks my 5 month California anniversary. To celebrate I am heading to the beach on the preceeding Saturday to stop time for awhile. To think. To pray. To listen. Quiet the noise, laugh, cry and marvel.
During the past five months:
My Car Broke Down.
Well, broke down is kind of harsh. It lost power.
While driving every gauge, light and dial would decide to take a little rest. The radio would stop playing, the cd would spontaneously eject. When it started happening regularly I decided to get it checked out. The prognosis was a loose battery cable. Most likely the result of the condition of the roads while driving across the country, combined with the condition of the roads in LA.
"It's going to cost $175 just for us to lift the hood. I don't know after that... Ms. Willingham, please don't cry."
I Lost My Job.
It seems like everytime I pray earnestly, a big thing happens. Five months ago on a Tuesday night I prayed for guidance and the next day I was moving to LA.
I honestly hadn't felt right since the day I started the job that moved me here.
What in the world was I doing? Had I made a mistake? What would everyone think if I decided to come back home? Will I ever make friends? According to everyone, I'm supposed to be happy. Why aren't I?
When will this gold start to glitter?
And so one night I prayed.
"Lord, I really don't think you brought me all the way out here to be unhappy. And I don't believe that I'm supposed to go home just yet. PLEASE show me something because this isn't working. I trust you. I won't flake out. It's me! I'm ready."
The next day I lost my job.
After I left the building I got in my car, took some deep breaths and wrapped my hand around the cross that hangs from my rearview mirror. "Okay." I said. And I drove off.
My Lettuce Obsession Almost Landed Me on Television.
I decided to pass on my 15 minutes of fame.
I was being considered for a show that would have highlighted my obsession with lettuce. My mom and my friend B willingly let me interview them for the producers. I detailed all of my absurdities about the vegetable I adore on film. But when it came time for the in home interview where I would be filmed eating, I flaked.
Honestly, I was afraid of looking like a complete nutcase.
The other night I was sitting outside talking to a friend. He had a beer, I had a bowl of mixed greens from the farmer's market. It was so good and fresh that I just wanted it plain.
About halfway thru his beer, he stopped drinking to stare at me as I picked through my bowl of greens and said, "I can't believe you're eating that lettuce like it's a bowl of potato chips."
I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.
There's something to be said for having moments like that without a camera in your face.
I Got a Dance Gig.
I danced for my first feature film last weekend. It was a blast. Our choreographer, Mecca Vazie Andrews is a phenomenal talent and one of the nicest most sincere and interesting people you could ever hope to meet. I adored the cast, and production crew. It was one of the best experiences of my life and one that I will always cherish.
I Landed in The Sweat Spot.
After I lost my job, while frantically looking for another, I called a friend who called a friend. A few conversations later I ended up as studio manager at Ryan Heffingtons dance studio, The Sweat Spot.
I love my job. The 12+ hour days. The people who don't quite know what to make of me just yet. The ones who decided to welcome me with open arms anyway. The dance family that I don't quite belong to, but appreciate because they love each other and make me realize how blessed I am to have a dance family of my own. The thoughtfulness of the people I work with warms my heart. I couldn't have asked to be placed in a better environment.
I love my boss, Ryan Heffington. If you don't know about him, get schooled :). http://www.sirheffington.com/ He is one of the three most brilliantly creative minds that I have ever met. The other two being Bubba Carr and Lee Blalock. And he has one of the sweetest souls.
I love Ryan's business partner Kristin. That girl is crazy as hell, and she works hard. We're both business minded and like to get ish done. We get each other and that is so refreshing. And she's nice to boot.
My days are made up of things as mundane as data entry and as thrilling as exchanging text messages with Mia Michaels about rehearsal schedule changes, watching her genius in action and everything in between.
We have classes as small as 2 students and as big as 75. I'm intrigued by the team and the students. They are incredible people. I live for that kind of diversity and talent. The energy of the place greets you at the door and makes you never want to leave.
What's Next?
I'm moving in two weeks. Thanks to a new connection with a dancer I've known for awhile but am just now getting to know, I will have my own room, my own bathroom and my own balcony in North Hollywood. We'll see if I can survive the heat of a summer in the valley!
After this 5 month lifetime, I am beginning to exhale. Just how many more lifetimes I will experience on this journey remains to be seen, but I welcome them.
My steps are being ordered.
I am moving my feet.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Here.
The valet parking man at Cafe Sushi has it in for me.
I was floating on air after my first LA shopping experience at H&M. The store was half the size of a football field. I had a giftcard. I'd collected enough clothes to go over my giftcard limit by $15, only to get to the register and find that one of my items was $15 off.
I cried. And then I drove to Cafe Sushi.
I passed Mr. Valet and parked. Sure the sign said no parking after 6:00 and it was 6:07, but I had been kissed by the H&M Fairy. Nothing could touch me.
Mr. Valet glared at me as I walked past him and into the restaurant. I ordered my spicy salmon roll to go, took a seat at the door and glared back. In the middle of our glaring match he took his phone out, dialed, smiled and looked away.
I knew, in that instant, that he'd called the parking police.
The little white hybrid drove away from ticketing my car exactly 2 seconds before I exited the restaurant. As I walked past Mr. Valet, he smirked. I stopped turned my head slowly towards him, squinted my eyes into crescent moons, lifted my hand, curled my fingers and silently gave him my best Color Purple Ceely to Mister "Till you do right by me, everythang you THINK about, gonna crumble!" curse.
The smirk vanished.
Victory.
Complete with a $55 ticket as a trophy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday March 28 marks my 30th day as a California resident. I've decided that on that day I will take myself to the beach to reflect, recharge and refocus.
Tonight, I write.
For the past 28 days I have been on a rollercoaster. But the track is invisible. My seatbelt is fastened, but it's not secure. My senses are functioning at peak levels, but brain is too stunned to process it all.
Keep your seatbelt securely fastened.
There are times when the energy in the air around me is invigorating. It is so palpable that it has a pulse. And there are times when it is filled with such uncertainty and doubt that it causes me to catch my breath.
I am grateful for this opportunity, this job, the willingness of my friend to open her home to me, the people I'm meeting...
I am discouraged that I don't know when I'm going to find a place of my own, that I still don't feel settled, that I still get lost, that making friends is not easy, that the business of building a life at 31 is a lot more complicated than it was when I did it in college at the age of 18.
Your arms and legs must remain inside the vehicle while the train is in motion.
Think has become my constant companion.
I pray. I think. I work. I think. I dance. I think. I walk. I think. I people watch. I think. I meet people. I think. I smile. I think. I cry. I think.
And last weekend, Think thought of a question:
"Why does your 'There' keep shifting?"
For 23 years my 'There' was LA. In recent years, 'There' expanded to include a job I liked in an office where I could where jeans everyday, and a chance to start over in the one place I'd always wanted to live but had never even visited.
And all of a sudden, I was Here.
Now, I want my own place. I want friends that know me as well as the ones I already have. I want to know my way around without getting lost. I want ease and effortlessness. I want to know where to go and what to do and who to call. I want a we to spend time with.
I want to be There.
Hold on tight.
The thing about There, I'm learning, is that it is always just out of reach.
The thing about Here, I'm learning, is that it is always available.
Here is LA. Here is a job in an office where I wear jeans everyday. Here is the person who offered me a place to live and goes out of her way to make sure I am comfortable. Here are the people I've met who are welcoming me into their lives and assuring me that they too felt like this once.
In time Here will be all the things I miss about home and the life I left because when Here shifts, it takes you along.
So, since I'll be Here for awhile, I figure I might as well enjoy the view.
Because sometimes time does more than just pass. Sometimes it builds character.
Sometimes you lose your way.
Sometimes you don't.
Sometimes you laugh.
Sometimes you cry.
And sometimes you pay $63 for an $8 roll of raw fish.
Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. - Epicurus
Enjoy the ride.
I was floating on air after my first LA shopping experience at H&M. The store was half the size of a football field. I had a giftcard. I'd collected enough clothes to go over my giftcard limit by $15, only to get to the register and find that one of my items was $15 off.
I cried. And then I drove to Cafe Sushi.
I passed Mr. Valet and parked. Sure the sign said no parking after 6:00 and it was 6:07, but I had been kissed by the H&M Fairy. Nothing could touch me.
Mr. Valet glared at me as I walked past him and into the restaurant. I ordered my spicy salmon roll to go, took a seat at the door and glared back. In the middle of our glaring match he took his phone out, dialed, smiled and looked away.
I knew, in that instant, that he'd called the parking police.
The little white hybrid drove away from ticketing my car exactly 2 seconds before I exited the restaurant. As I walked past Mr. Valet, he smirked. I stopped turned my head slowly towards him, squinted my eyes into crescent moons, lifted my hand, curled my fingers and silently gave him my best Color Purple Ceely to Mister "Till you do right by me, everythang you THINK about, gonna crumble!" curse.
The smirk vanished.
Victory.
Complete with a $55 ticket as a trophy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Sunday March 28 marks my 30th day as a California resident. I've decided that on that day I will take myself to the beach to reflect, recharge and refocus.
Tonight, I write.
For the past 28 days I have been on a rollercoaster. But the track is invisible. My seatbelt is fastened, but it's not secure. My senses are functioning at peak levels, but brain is too stunned to process it all.
Keep your seatbelt securely fastened.
There are times when the energy in the air around me is invigorating. It is so palpable that it has a pulse. And there are times when it is filled with such uncertainty and doubt that it causes me to catch my breath.
I am grateful for this opportunity, this job, the willingness of my friend to open her home to me, the people I'm meeting...
I am discouraged that I don't know when I'm going to find a place of my own, that I still don't feel settled, that I still get lost, that making friends is not easy, that the business of building a life at 31 is a lot more complicated than it was when I did it in college at the age of 18.
Your arms and legs must remain inside the vehicle while the train is in motion.
Think has become my constant companion.
I pray. I think. I work. I think. I dance. I think. I walk. I think. I people watch. I think. I meet people. I think. I smile. I think. I cry. I think.
And last weekend, Think thought of a question:
"Why does your 'There' keep shifting?"
For 23 years my 'There' was LA. In recent years, 'There' expanded to include a job I liked in an office where I could where jeans everyday, and a chance to start over in the one place I'd always wanted to live but had never even visited.
And all of a sudden, I was Here.
Now, I want my own place. I want friends that know me as well as the ones I already have. I want to know my way around without getting lost. I want ease and effortlessness. I want to know where to go and what to do and who to call. I want a we to spend time with.
I want to be There.
Hold on tight.
The thing about There, I'm learning, is that it is always just out of reach.
The thing about Here, I'm learning, is that it is always available.
Here is LA. Here is a job in an office where I wear jeans everyday. Here is the person who offered me a place to live and goes out of her way to make sure I am comfortable. Here are the people I've met who are welcoming me into their lives and assuring me that they too felt like this once.
In time Here will be all the things I miss about home and the life I left because when Here shifts, it takes you along.
So, since I'll be Here for awhile, I figure I might as well enjoy the view.
Because sometimes time does more than just pass. Sometimes it builds character.
Sometimes you lose your way.
Sometimes you don't.
Sometimes you laugh.
Sometimes you cry.
And sometimes you pay $63 for an $8 roll of raw fish.
Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for. - Epicurus
Enjoy the ride.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Pieces.
The Prep.
"Mom, do you need this green bag in the car or can I put it in the trunk?"
"Will it fit?"
"Yeah. I fit everything I'm bringing in four bags. Two are in the trunk, two in the back seat."
"Well, yes then, put it in."
Fast forward 10 minutes.
"Mom, do you want the mini dvd player?"
"No. I have my book and my Nintendo. But they're in the green bag."
"The one in the trunk?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to pull over."
"No. It's fine... I just thought I'd finish the book I'm reading."
"I can pull over."
"No."
Fast Forward 30 seconds.
"And I thought I might play my Nintendo a little."
"I'm pulling over."
"Well, okay. If that's what you want to do. I have some fruit snacks back there for you too."
I love that woman.
The Drive.
Memphis-Arkansas-Oklahoma-New Mexico-Arizona-California. $135 in gas.
We made it in 2.25 days.
This country is breathtaking, and driving across it was one of the best things I have ever experienced.
And the one thing I never want to do again.
Ever.
The City.
I felt at home as soon as I got here.
The weather is perfection. I live in the middle of everything wonderful. I've taken walks through The Grove, explored the park across the street that looks out to the Hollywood Hills. I can walk to Ralph's, Whole Foods and Trader Joes. Nearly every road leads to the beach.
I've seen my first facelift, a little old lady with curly blue hair and Robert DeNiro.
I'm close to one of the best dance studios in the country and will begin classes there next week.
Next Sunday I will walk down the street to the Kodak Theater and wait with all the other gawkers to get iPhone pics of the celebrities walking the red carpet at the Oscars.
I've found my Target store.
I am in love with LA.
Work.
My first day of work was good. The drive was scenic. The traffic decent. I didn't get lost. I made it on time. The work was interesting and challenging.
And then The Man arrived.
The Man was pleasant enough, but he didn't say hello, introduce himself or interact with me. I shrugged it off and stuck my tongue out at him behind his back for good measure.
It was liberating.
An hour later I took my newly liberated self to the restroom and in the middle of trying out different poses in the mirror, I glanced to my right and saw the urinals.
After thinking for a split second that they were actually excessively tall bedets, then wondering out loud why in the world there were urinals in the ladies' restroom, my senses returned. I hung my head in shame, whispered a pathetic, "oh.", trudged back to our suite and went directly to the office of The Man.
I streteched my lips into a smile and said, "Hi, I'm Kilah. I don't think we've met.". To which he replied, "It's nice to meet you! How is your day going?", rose from his desk and extended his left hand for me to shake.
I extended my right hand. He dropped his left hand, swung his right arm back and forth and stuck his left hand out again.
I turned and walked away.
Me.
I'm suspended.
In 2.5 weeks I accepted a new job that I hadn't even applied for, packed my life into four bags, said goodbye to everything familiar, drove across the country to a place I've never been and began anew.
This dichotomy of crippling sadness and overwhelming jubilation has thrown me for a loop.
I can only liken it to the excitement of getting a new 1000 piece puzzle that you've had your eye on for a long time, opening the box and dumping all the pieces onto the floor only to realize that a puzzle requires assembly.
You stand there stunned for awhile before you accept the fact that while what you wanted may look a little scattered, all the necessary pieces have been provided.
Your job is to figure out how they fit.
So you take a deep breath, grin, roll up your sleeves, kneel on the floor and start lining up the pieces.
---------------------------
"Mom, do you need this green bag in the car or can I put it in the trunk?"
"Will it fit?"
"Yeah. I fit everything I'm bringing in four bags. Two are in the trunk, two in the back seat."
"Well, yes then, put it in."
Fast forward 10 minutes.
"Mom, do you want the mini dvd player?"
"No. I have my book and my Nintendo. But they're in the green bag."
"The one in the trunk?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to pull over."
"No. It's fine... I just thought I'd finish the book I'm reading."
"I can pull over."
"No."
Fast Forward 30 seconds.
"And I thought I might play my Nintendo a little."
"I'm pulling over."
"Well, okay. If that's what you want to do. I have some fruit snacks back there for you too."
I love that woman.
The Drive.
Memphis-Arkansas-Oklahoma-New Mexico-Arizona-California. $135 in gas.
We made it in 2.25 days.
This country is breathtaking, and driving across it was one of the best things I have ever experienced.
And the one thing I never want to do again.
Ever.
The City.
I felt at home as soon as I got here.
The weather is perfection. I live in the middle of everything wonderful. I've taken walks through The Grove, explored the park across the street that looks out to the Hollywood Hills. I can walk to Ralph's, Whole Foods and Trader Joes. Nearly every road leads to the beach.
I've seen my first facelift, a little old lady with curly blue hair and Robert DeNiro.
I'm close to one of the best dance studios in the country and will begin classes there next week.
Next Sunday I will walk down the street to the Kodak Theater and wait with all the other gawkers to get iPhone pics of the celebrities walking the red carpet at the Oscars.
I've found my Target store.
I am in love with LA.
Work.
My first day of work was good. The drive was scenic. The traffic decent. I didn't get lost. I made it on time. The work was interesting and challenging.
And then The Man arrived.
The Man was pleasant enough, but he didn't say hello, introduce himself or interact with me. I shrugged it off and stuck my tongue out at him behind his back for good measure.
It was liberating.
An hour later I took my newly liberated self to the restroom and in the middle of trying out different poses in the mirror, I glanced to my right and saw the urinals.
After thinking for a split second that they were actually excessively tall bedets, then wondering out loud why in the world there were urinals in the ladies' restroom, my senses returned. I hung my head in shame, whispered a pathetic, "oh.", trudged back to our suite and went directly to the office of The Man.
I streteched my lips into a smile and said, "Hi, I'm Kilah. I don't think we've met.". To which he replied, "It's nice to meet you! How is your day going?", rose from his desk and extended his left hand for me to shake.
I extended my right hand. He dropped his left hand, swung his right arm back and forth and stuck his left hand out again.
I turned and walked away.
Me.
I'm suspended.
In 2.5 weeks I accepted a new job that I hadn't even applied for, packed my life into four bags, said goodbye to everything familiar, drove across the country to a place I've never been and began anew.
This dichotomy of crippling sadness and overwhelming jubilation has thrown me for a loop.
I can only liken it to the excitement of getting a new 1000 piece puzzle that you've had your eye on for a long time, opening the box and dumping all the pieces onto the floor only to realize that a puzzle requires assembly.
You stand there stunned for awhile before you accept the fact that while what you wanted may look a little scattered, all the necessary pieces have been provided.
Your job is to figure out how they fit.
So you take a deep breath, grin, roll up your sleeves, kneel on the floor and start lining up the pieces.
---------------------------
Let the fun begin.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
And Then You Pack.
I'm moving to LA in 20 days. I'm moving to LA in 20 days?!
What do you do when you wake up in the morning as one person and go to sleep that night as someone else?
You pack.
Or...
You buy 3 duffel bags, a box of gluten free chicken strips, half a pound of brocollini salad, a blueberry Izze and a People magazine, sit down on your kitchen floor and hyperventilate.
You pray.
You call your sister and a few good friends, update Facebook, hand in two week notices, and then you call your Mother.
You sort through your memories and highlight the ones you don't want to forget.
You think about saying goodbye to Princess Charles at his drag queen show on the 18th and burst into tears.
In an effort to get it all in, you call and text old friends to arrange meetings and drinks and lunches and dinners.
You listen to your best friend when she tells you to stop worrying because you can't do it all.
You get honked at for not going when the light turns green.
You convince yourself that the fact that you've maintained a sense of normalcy at the office instead of dancing on your chair to Miley Cyrus' 'Party in the USA' should earn you a Best Actress Oscar nod.
You hold your breath until you realize that breathing is one of the necessities of life.
You sing The Bare Necessities.
You find, download and purchase The Bare Necessities from iTunes.
You thank God everyday for His grace in granting such an undeserving person her biggest wish.
You look at your newly purchased tube of toothpaste and think, "Wow, I'll still be using this when I live in California."
You find yourself staring into space with your eyebrows raised and your eyes bugged out.
You make yourself stop doing that because it dries out your contact lenses.
You buy lettuce even though you know you're too nervous to eat it.
You beg your Mom to drive across the country with you. She agrees. You throw up a little.
You pray again.
And then you pack.
What do you do when you wake up in the morning as one person and go to sleep that night as someone else?
You pack.
Or...
You buy 3 duffel bags, a box of gluten free chicken strips, half a pound of brocollini salad, a blueberry Izze and a People magazine, sit down on your kitchen floor and hyperventilate.
You pray.
You call your sister and a few good friends, update Facebook, hand in two week notices, and then you call your Mother.
You sort through your memories and highlight the ones you don't want to forget.
You think about saying goodbye to Princess Charles at his drag queen show on the 18th and burst into tears.
In an effort to get it all in, you call and text old friends to arrange meetings and drinks and lunches and dinners.
You listen to your best friend when she tells you to stop worrying because you can't do it all.
You get honked at for not going when the light turns green.
You convince yourself that the fact that you've maintained a sense of normalcy at the office instead of dancing on your chair to Miley Cyrus' 'Party in the USA' should earn you a Best Actress Oscar nod.
You hold your breath until you realize that breathing is one of the necessities of life.
You sing The Bare Necessities.
You find, download and purchase The Bare Necessities from iTunes.
You thank God everyday for His grace in granting such an undeserving person her biggest wish.
You look at your newly purchased tube of toothpaste and think, "Wow, I'll still be using this when I live in California."
You find yourself staring into space with your eyebrows raised and your eyes bugged out.
You make yourself stop doing that because it dries out your contact lenses.
You buy lettuce even though you know you're too nervous to eat it.
You beg your Mom to drive across the country with you. She agrees. You throw up a little.
You pray again.
And then you pack.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
HEARD. Vol. 2
The people quoted below have three things in common: they're all adults, they're all people I spend time with and none of them had any idea that their words were being recorded. Their identities will not be revealed.
Last time I gave myself 7 days to get the recording done. This time I just listened.
And this is what I heard.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I want some original house of pancakes. But I won't get any anytime soon because I'm a crackhead."
"I hate when someone dances and they thrust too hard. You can't fix that."
"It was like a silent announcement."
"It's nationwide. You know. The whole world."
"Happy birthday. Wait. I meant to say thank you. How did that happen?"
"I have to have a schedule or I'll just throw up all the time."
"Why when I say breathe do you breathe out? That's not breathing."
"I just wish I had a rhinestone cuff on my ankle."
"It's the latest thing! It's been out for awhile though."
"Whenever I walk around in Office Depot, my toes catch on the floor."
"Plain potato chips taste like stale milk."
"I want you to be Eminem for Halloween next Christmas."
"How do they grow chocolate?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "If this is the caliber of people that make up my friendship circles, I must be doing something right."
Last time I gave myself 7 days to get the recording done. This time I just listened.
And this is what I heard.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I want some original house of pancakes. But I won't get any anytime soon because I'm a crackhead."
"I hate when someone dances and they thrust too hard. You can't fix that."
"It was like a silent announcement."
"It's nationwide. You know. The whole world."
"Happy birthday. Wait. I meant to say thank you. How did that happen?"
"I have to have a schedule or I'll just throw up all the time."
"Why when I say breathe do you breathe out? That's not breathing."
"I just wish I had a rhinestone cuff on my ankle."
"It's the latest thing! It's been out for awhile though."
"Whenever I walk around in Office Depot, my toes catch on the floor."
"Plain potato chips taste like stale milk."
"I want you to be Eminem for Halloween next Christmas."
"How do they grow chocolate?"
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kilah: "If this is the caliber of people that make up my friendship circles, I must be doing something right."
Friday, January 1, 2010
Can You Dig It?
Dress? check. Shoes? check. Accessories? check. Hairstyle idea? check. Makeup? check.
New Year's Eve 2009.
To say that I struggled with NYE plans this year would be the grossest of understatements.
Every year of my life I've partied.
When I was child my family gathered at my cousins' house. We kids ate, played, danced, dodged our Uncle's rolled up papertowel balls, counted down to Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve and watched the adults get tipsy.
As an adult I have visited various party locations, drunk every available liquid from Manischievitz to homemade "punch", I've eaten pizza, cake, dip, chips, brownies, cheese, meat, olives.... I've danced, I've sung, I've enjoyed great company.
This year I raged a battle in my head:
Head: You should go.
Me: But it's too far!
Head: People are expecting you.
Me: They won't notice!
Head: You like being with friends.
Me: Can't I see them next week?!
Head: You always celebrate the New Year.
Me: Change is good!
Head: People will think you're strange.
Me: They already do!
Head: People will give you funny looks.
Me: I like consistency!
Head: It'll be great once you get there.
Me: It's not the there, it's the getting!
Head: Deep down you love a party.
Me: But up top I don't want to be bothered.
Head: If you don't go, who will help you ring in the New Year?
Me: My subconcious?
All yesterday my responses ranged from the unenthusiastic "sure." to "i don't know" to "what time again?" to "we'll see." to "probably not.", but at 9:45 I laid out my outfit. Black dress, boots, accessories and nail polish. I lined up hair products and makeup and set the flat and curling irons on high.
That evening, coats were checked, outfits admired, hor d'oeuvres sampled and music played. Partygoers danced, kissed cheeks, exchanged hugs and best wishes. Shouts rang out and fireworks lit up the sky.
I slept through it all.
Right on top of the outfit I had so meticulously laid out.
I missed every phone call and every text. I didn't update my facebook status. I forgot to watch the apple drop.
When I woke up at 8am bright-eyed and not hungover, I giggled at my own absurdity. Maybe I am a boring old uninteresting dud. Or maybe, just maybe, the change with which I rung in the New Year, is the beginning of a change in the way I live my life.
Maybe I'll be neater.
Maybe I'll wash my car.
Maybe I'll do more than pause at stop signs.
Maybe I'll be less easily distracted.
Maybe I'll be more normal.
Maybe I'll cover my gray.
Maybe I won't carry a tub of Vaseline in my purse.
Maybe I'll stop forgetting the things I don't want to remember.
Or maybe not.
This morning I decided to go on a 31 day cleansing fast. No meat, no dairy, only veggies, fruit, brown rice and water.
This afternoon I decided to buy ice cream.
So this year I resolve to keep being me. More positive yet still quirky. More focused yet still weird. My deck of cards is still short an ace and my train still stops just outside the station.
And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.
Can you dig it?
I knew that you could.
Happy New Year.
New Year's Eve 2009.
To say that I struggled with NYE plans this year would be the grossest of understatements.
Every year of my life I've partied.
When I was child my family gathered at my cousins' house. We kids ate, played, danced, dodged our Uncle's rolled up papertowel balls, counted down to Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve and watched the adults get tipsy.
As an adult I have visited various party locations, drunk every available liquid from Manischievitz to homemade "punch", I've eaten pizza, cake, dip, chips, brownies, cheese, meat, olives.... I've danced, I've sung, I've enjoyed great company.
This year I raged a battle in my head:
Head: You should go.
Me: But it's too far!
Head: People are expecting you.
Me: They won't notice!
Head: You like being with friends.
Me: Can't I see them next week?!
Head: You always celebrate the New Year.
Me: Change is good!
Head: People will think you're strange.
Me: They already do!
Head: People will give you funny looks.
Me: I like consistency!
Head: It'll be great once you get there.
Me: It's not the there, it's the getting!
Head: Deep down you love a party.
Me: But up top I don't want to be bothered.
Head: If you don't go, who will help you ring in the New Year?
Me: My subconcious?
All yesterday my responses ranged from the unenthusiastic "sure." to "i don't know" to "what time again?" to "we'll see." to "probably not.", but at 9:45 I laid out my outfit. Black dress, boots, accessories and nail polish. I lined up hair products and makeup and set the flat and curling irons on high.
That evening, coats were checked, outfits admired, hor d'oeuvres sampled and music played. Partygoers danced, kissed cheeks, exchanged hugs and best wishes. Shouts rang out and fireworks lit up the sky.
I slept through it all.
Right on top of the outfit I had so meticulously laid out.
I missed every phone call and every text. I didn't update my facebook status. I forgot to watch the apple drop.
When I woke up at 8am bright-eyed and not hungover, I giggled at my own absurdity. Maybe I am a boring old uninteresting dud. Or maybe, just maybe, the change with which I rung in the New Year, is the beginning of a change in the way I live my life.
Maybe I'll be neater.
Maybe I'll wash my car.
Maybe I'll do more than pause at stop signs.
Maybe I'll be less easily distracted.
Maybe I'll be more normal.
Maybe I'll cover my gray.
Maybe I won't carry a tub of Vaseline in my purse.
Maybe I'll stop forgetting the things I don't want to remember.
Or maybe not.
This morning I decided to go on a 31 day cleansing fast. No meat, no dairy, only veggies, fruit, brown rice and water.
This afternoon I decided to buy ice cream.
So this year I resolve to keep being me. More positive yet still quirky. More focused yet still weird. My deck of cards is still short an ace and my train still stops just outside the station.
And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.
Can you dig it?
I knew that you could.
Happy New Year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)