Every now and then I find myself beaten at my own game; shy, quiet, withholding things I feel, think or want to say.  Timid. It amuses me because it's infrequent and atypical and I don't get flustered very often.


I feel like writing a dance/choreography related post, but there is SO much bouncing about in my head right now that I feel like it would be the biggest explosion of word vomit ever.  I'll organize my thoughts and get back to you, blog.

static or stagnant

Think of something you want to do more than anything else in the whole world, even if it is indulgent, selfish or destructive, and DO it. If not now, at this point in life, when well you ever try?  You don't have to try this form of impulsive decision making more than once, but it's bound to either be fantastic and exhilarating, or a total disaster/life lesson.

I guess this is semi-contradictory to my 'try-everything-twice-no-exceptions' philosophy.  Then again, I firmly believe in that, too. If you are a try-everything-once person how do you know that the one time you experienced something wasn't out of the norm? Also, yes, you should try EVERYTHING.  Minus murder, or a serious crime, I suppose.

So many people are living sedentary, routine, by-the-schedule lives.  It freaks me out.  Maybe people can be happy living the exact same day or exact same weekend for their entire adult lives, but how is this satisfying?  One of my friends (condensed version) once stated life was basically work hard, make money, retire and travel and live out the rest of your days. Whaaaat?  What about right now, what about tomorrow? What did you do this very day that was fun or new or exciting?  Everyday should contain something novel, some little nugget of great.  It's not too late for today, FYI.  Go lie outside in the rain until you are soaked, or moon your neighbor, or smash an egg with your bare hands, or put on great music and dance ridiculously.  Extra points for all of the above.

I like to think my life experience is like an amoeba, and everyday i make it grow/expand outwards a tiny bit more.  Who is going to die someday with the biggest amoeba?

Thennnnnn because it's rainy and I'm feeling a bit contemplative, maybe there are people that just want to have a little amoeba and are happy and comfortable with the limited amount of whatever it is in their tiny collection of experience.  Same breakfast, same job, same tv shows, same bed time.  Huh.  If YOU, reader (or lack of reader haha) are one of these little bubble people I would like to question you relentlessly, sign up now, or run away quick!

time traveling

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rARN6agiW7o&feature=share

Exciting.  It looks a little bit glitzy, but I have faith in Baz Luhrmann.

I'd love to find the magic balance between being the lady-version of Gatsby and a productive/successful/innovative/happy individual.

Time to face the HIP-issues...

SO!

I've been dealing with a shitty hip situation since halfway through college.  To summarize, there are three happily coexisting problems; osteoarthritis (I've worn through a lot of my cartilage), snapping hip syndrome (have an extra tiny little bony process on the bone that is catching a tendon that should ideally glide across the hip surface), and a labral tear (soph. year jazz class induced, sore subject.. no puns intended), which is best described here.

It's been sucky and painful and limited, and sort of depressing.  I saw an orthopedic doctor 4 or 5 years ago who half-heartedly conducted an arthrogram and MRI and said I could do PT or just go for a hip replacement, but also I should really stop using the joint as much as I was in an attempt to heal. Uh... ok.  I did the PT, it sort of helped for a bit before I plateau-ed which happened about the same time as I got kicked off my parent's health insurance and had to do the exercises from home.  For the past couple of years I've just been trying to cope/deal with it... either working through hip pain and sleeping with an ice pack, or just not moving at all.  I know what I need to stretch, what needs to keep strengthening, but there is never enough improvement to feel great.

Anyways, I am happy that after waiting for way too long, I am going to see a new specialist and get this stupid injury fixed!  I've been annoyed with my hip way too much lately, and have come to the conclusion that you shouldn't have to live with or accept day-to-day pain (if I do anything more than normal-people movement, which is obviously going to happen) and limited mobility!

It's probably going to take awhile to solve the problem/heal the injury, since I would rather not go invasive right away, but hopefully there is a fix out there for me.  I don't remember what it feel like to have two normal/functioning/pain-free hip joints!

party trumpet...

Also... everytime I see this commercial (bacardi 1957 party) it makes me smirk thinking about the last time I brought a trumpet to a party. The party was an informal basement gathering in NH that progressed into the back of a minivan, and I'm pretty sure I composed an original song with no formal trumpet training.

Came straight home after rehearsal, had big plans, can't stop watching Mythbusters and playing with the dog.

It seems that I can completely incapable of reading signals these days, I guess I need a big old metaphorical slap in the face or one of those guns with the little POW flags to understand anything.  I've also been way more gullible than usual.  Distracteddddddd. Point being, anything anyone says to me from this point on should either be written by one of those planes that writes things in the sky, communicated in sign language/interpretative dance, or spoken through a megaphone pointed at my ear.  

the process heats up!

We are finally getting to that magic point where I can sit on the couch, cross-legged, eyes-closed, Bose headphones on, and listen and listen and listen to music in attempt to score the new piece of choreography. Merli and I toss things around, we speak in really random descriptive non-English to figure out what we both have in our separate heads and how we merge it, and then I sit and layer and tweak, repeat repeat repeat.  Sometimes I get to go make awkward vocal percussion on the mic in my office or rock the midi keyboard and its affiliated noises, sometimes I go record the washer machine, sometimes I have to dig through sound websites to find what I need. I love creating sound!

Backtracking.

Of course it is nice to be motivated enough by a piece of music or something auditory to create choreography off of it.  I did this for my big senior piece in college, and for my more recent Luminarium work everything but blue, but there is something so satisfying about being able to score the choreography and make the sound in your head accompany the established movement.  On a technical level sound is nice because it is stable.  It stays right where you leave it, you can always undo what you did, and you can close your eyes and listen to it a thousand times on repeat to determine whether or not it works. (At the same time, I love choreographing because the process is the exact opposite of all of these reasons!)

Perhaps the happy compromise is to find an auditory seed of motivation (pre-movement) or at least a general sound/feel/song to put on your mental cork-board, and then go about your merry way creating movement, and then fill in the gaps and score it all out.  Hmm...

greygreygreygrey

It's a boring grey day.  I could be doing important things.  Instead, I am watching this and looking through these.  Genius.

Dear Kelsey O'Brien...

... I love you. Hope time passes quickly until you come home from llama-land, but until you do...

My bed feels huge when it is just me and the pup sleeping in it... Distractingly huge, even for a starfish-er like myself. I sort of wish I was still in NY where it's somewhat ok to wander at all hours of the night.

Sweater thievery

Wearing a stolen sweatshirt/sweater pullover that I didn't steal... Part of me wants to take it off, but I don't know who it belongs to so it's either keep, or donate. Also it's so amazingly soft, warm and lightweight that it would be a struggle to convince myself to shed the layer. Double also, whoever last wore this gave it the most amazing smell; a subtle sweetness, not overly floral, a hint of some masculine smell but not too musky. I know this is probably really weird but I'm kind of enjoying being wrapped up in this stranger's wonderful scent. While i have no guesses to the former owners gender, style or any other details (its quite nondescript) it makes me think about this garment's potential adventurous journey. Perhaps, to ease my guilt, I'll spend some time with it, leave my own combination of scent, and leave it somewhere new for another person to take it with them...

bus update

I was having a lovely lunch with Kelsey at Border Cafe earlier today, before I dropped her at Logan for her return flight to Peru, when who did I see walking down the sidewalk but my awkward bus seatmate from yesterday!  We made awkward eye contact; he seemed to recognize my face but couldn't place me in his head, while I knew exactly who he was.  It's both delightful and freaky to recognize a stranger in a common place.

Bus part 2.

My personal space is getting devoured. We barely made the bus we wanted to get on due to the 5-boro bike ride and so I find myself with a seatmate since there weren't two open seats. Unfortunately said seatmate, a fairly generic/averagely dressed 20-something that looks like the less cute little brother of a combined Nick Jonas and James Franco is a bus sleeper. This would be bad if he wasn't a sleep snuggler. I'm all for physical contact, kind sir, but you aren't conscious, and I am not in the mood to awkwardly spoon while sitting in a bus seat. Thanks very much.

Cooped up.

On a slow bus. Merli is trying to nap. I am trying not to wiggle. Why do people do these things to themselves... Ohhhh transportation. Next time perhaps I'll ride a horse. Or shoot myself out of a well-aimed cannon. Or rent a Vespa. Or take helicopter lessons and fly...

inadequacies

The English language is lacking in ways to use love.

Spanish, italian, arabic, greek (and of course many more languages I am less familiar with) all have multiple words for love, why do we just have one?  We have fondness and passion and desire and familiarity and hundreds of word-combos that express love, but it's just not the same.

I love each and every one of my friends.  It's not a want to marry them all, it's a warm, familiar, cozy feeling in my heart that endears me to each.  This makes me feel awkward, however, when I tell someone I absolutely love them, or say I love a friend in conversation with yet another person... Our culture doesn't seem to accept this.

beachy

There are always warm spring nights where I want nothing more to jump in my car, drive an hour up 93 to the NH coast, and sit up high on the seawall to check out the full moon.

Excuse the lousy/stolen pic.  Picture darkness and a big fat moon lighting everything up, and just sea and rock for miles and miles.  While there is a lot more freedom being an adult leading my own life, why is it so hard to get away?

the clothes may make the man, all a girl needs is a tan?

I was arguing (with love) with a friend of mine, who believes that if (SUPER condensed version) you consider yourself a feminist you need to prove it every day of your life; every thing you say, think, wear, do must reflect the struggle you and generations of women past endured for equal rights.

I absolutely consider myself a strong independent woman.  I went to a women's college... I know the history, I know the battles, I know the current problems and inequities, I know what aspects of being a woman will perhaps always be a struggle.

Where I am going with this... There are days where I just want to wear pencil skirts or pretty dresses and red lipstick and high heels.  I want to make like I am an extra on the set of Mad Men and perhaps twirl my hair a bit and dance through my day.   Above-mentioned-friend, groaned in mock disgust (hopefully mock!) at this statement.

Does this make me a hypocrite?  Does this discount my gender/make me any less of a power lady?  I don't think so...  I'm still successful, doing what I love, not taking crap from anyone etc.  I think if you like what you are wearing and how you are presenting yourself you are bound to be infinitely more successful (or at least have a better day).  My friend argued this was some sort of 'secretary mentality'.  Perhaps it is, but I think the difference is that I can't stand complacency in life/career choices?

Anyways, sick of writing. I would be curious to hear other opinions on this.