Because I Said So. It's For My Own Good.

A good thing happened yesterday.

You know how from the time we can comprehend conversation we learn that sometimes we have to do things we just don't want to do? But we also learn that almost always the things we should do, or have to do, those things because they're for our own good? I know, typical parental reasoning. "So-and-so, I need you to _________." "But I don't want to." "You have to." "But why? I don't want to!" "Because I said so. It's for your own good." (Not saying that my parents really ever used this type of reasoning with us, but the gist of it was still made clear to us as kids.) Things have to get done because our wise and knowledgeable caregivers know that they will benefit us in the long run, even when our inexperienced, naive minds didn't have the capacity or the experience to know so at the time. The thing is, as we get older, we have to take on the responsibility of our own accountability. We have to be able to say to ourselves (and yes, talking to yourself is perfectly acceptable at times likes these, though I usually choose silent conversation just in case), "You have no choice. You have to do this. No options this time."

I had ballet with Jack yesterday as usual. As not-so-usual, I wore the following outfit: a leotard, dance shorts, and a white wrap skirt that just so happened to appear last week from the depths of my dresser. Now, the last time I wore just a leotard with shorts in class was two years ago. This is for two reasons. 1) Dance is a visual art, so needless to say it's easy to become self-conscious and confidence has a tendency to ride life's ups and downs. Since my whole second year of school was on a bit of a downhill slope, and last year was spent working my way back up to the level I knew I was capable of being at, my usual uniform went by the wayside and has had to make its way back into my routine. 2) Simple laziness. There are no more leotard color requirements that pertain to your level of training anymore as it is when you're growing up. At school leotards and tights weren't a requirement so as I got lazier for awhile there I just kind of rolled with it because no one was going to make me do otherwise. 

But yesterday I woke up and I said to myself, "Okay Michaela. Enough. You're going to ballet today? Then act like it." So into my bag went the following: leotard, shorts, skirt, t-shirt, cotton shorts, sweats. (I do like to have options for while I'm warming up before class and to have during the first few barre exercises, though in heat like this there's really no need for any of it!) I got to Broadway Dance Center and pulled my options out of my bag so I could go get changed, actually a little nervous at the knowledge that I really didn't have any crutch options available for the moment when I decided no, I'll restart the dress code on Monday. 

I put on my dance clothes and some layers and gave myself a nice thorough warmup, as I've been making myself also do. (Core strenthening, stretching, etc...It's the best.) The start of class was nearing so I put my ballet shoes on, and I couldn't bear to wear my sweats anymore because I was already sweating buckets and I still had a full class ahead. So off went the sweatpants, on went the skirt, and there I was. Looking more like a ballet dancer than I have in much too long. Feeling more like a ballet dancer than I had in much too long. And I have to say, I liked it.

The class before us finished, we went into the room and started pulling out barres, and dancers tend to be territorial when it comes to spots at the ballet barre. Well, someone new was in class and was standing where I usually stand, but I figured it was a good thing. New outfit, new spot...new outlook. 

And so class began. Jack's plié combination is the same every class so he says, "Aaaalright, first position please! [Gestures to the pianist] And..." and all the new people in class follow the people who already know it as he gently calls things out for help every couple of counts. And from that first plié, class felt one-hundred percent different than any ballet class I've taken anytime recently. I was taken back to the days when I approached every ballet class like a ballet class, not just a dance class, and I worked completely different. We all have habits in our dancing mannerisms, some good and some not so good. The not-so-good ones we try to cheat and get by, by skirting around them and making alternate choices to offset our wrongdoings. For instance, sometimes I don't close, cross or get my heels completely down in fifth position during tendus. This is hard for me. Always has been. On most occasions my main task for the tricky, fast tendu combinations is just to get through it. Get through it, we'll move on and I won't have to deal with it anymore. Well, yesterday my purple leotard had me doing otherwise. With a little mental force and a some nice, newfound determination, I made those fifth positions as accurate as I possibly could. It didn't happen every time, but I felt it when it did. No, it wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't the easy route that I've gotten so used to taking. But it also wasn't a daunting, impossible feat either, so I'd come to find out. Another example: center adagio. I've never been a fan of adagio. It's slow. It involves high leg extensions. And it's slow. I'm growing to enjoy it more because now I feel like I'm able to find new ways to infuse the weaker bits with aspects of my stronger areas in order to make the tasks more physically feasible, but yesterday I felt tall. I'm 5'4" and athletically built, so I come a good deal short of the long and lean type (hah, no pun intended), but yesterday as I stood in fifth position waiting for the music to start (as tight a fifth position as I could muster without freaking my knees and ankles out), I actually felt tall. And I felt ready and able to take on and perform a center adagio combination. Because for the first time in ages I could visually see my whole self in the mirror and the reflection I saw wasn't covered up in baggy t-shirts, bulky shorts and a shadow of self-doubt. It was a nice change. And a much-needed one at that. 

I went through all of class yesterday absolutely loving every challenge, because the second I made myself play the part and believe in myself playing the part excuse-free, the challenges posed themselves to me as opportunities with attainable results. Because I was finally believing that they were attainable results. I don't think any thought along the lines of "My body doesn't move like that," or "That's just what I've always done, so that's how I do it" even crossed my mind, which was very refreshing because I wasn't held down by that obnoxious, pessimistic innervoice who whispers her two cents whenever she senses vulnerability. 

But yesterday vulnerability wasn't an option. The doubts and the complaining and the whining weren't options. 

"Michaela, you're wearing a leotard and shorts today. You look fine. Just do it."

"But I haven't done that in two years. I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I usually just wear a tank top. Though I guess they're all dirty..."

"Well, are you going to take class seriously? Okay then. You're wearing a leotard." 

"Forward port-de-bras really hurts to stretch because my hamstrings are so tight and I can't get my fifths to close."

"Okay, well then stretch your hamstrings, roll them out before class, and get your heel across in fifth. And remember to breathe." 

(It worked.)

"You know, I really don't like stretching my extensions because my muscles seem to have gotten tighter and they just don't go so easily anymore."

"Have they gotten tighter or have you just stopped stretching them, resulting in tight muscles?"

"........"

"Right. Grab your foot. Stretch."

Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. But so often, once we do the things we don't want to do, we'll realize that our excuses are rather invalid, for the reasoning we present has no substance. It's not a capability issue that's blocking our way; we're fully capable of doing everything that has to be done. In fact, at least in personal experiences, the excuse-making is really only for personal reasons. It's to make myself think that there's a real reason why I'm not putting my best foot forward, when in reality I know that the truth is it's nothing more than an excuse. 

Sometimes, you just have to put yourself in timeout, wear a blasted leotard, and put your heels down in fifth. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. You'll accomplish the small things keeping you still without even knowing you've done it, and that's when the bigger and better doors become new territory just waiting for you dive in :)

The Popsicle Days of Summer

Well if you're on this page reading these words right now I can only assume that you've managed to beat the heat without totally melting so far, so kudos to you and keep doing what you're doing because it ain't over yet! WOW, it's warm!


In my opinion, the worst phase of summer heat like this is probably those first few days when it really hits for the first time of the season. That first week is rough because no matter how many times you read on Weather.com that it's going to be 100 degrees with a heat index of a million and a gazillion-and-three percent humidity, nothing can really prepare you for that first step out your door in the morning when it's a mere 9:00 A.M. and you're already swimming through air thicker than molasses. No matter what you will sweat all day and your hair will do things of its own. Now's the time to embrace the natural beauty, people! Comfort is key and who wants a head full of sweaty, gloppy hair product for three months? Not this kid, that's for sure! Ponytails and running shorts it is, then! 


Today was another warm one, but it was a warm one filled with really good "summer in the city" energy. I was feeling really good vibes from pretty much every and all things. (I only say "pretty much" because as much as I know it's one of those things you just have to get over and deal with, the tourists in midtown today? They were a lot to deal with.) But again, that's part of the beauty of this crazy city, and when I feel myself getting frustrated, well...Nah, I get frustrated. But then I remember that that song on my iPod is one of my favorite ones and I bought clean socks without holes in them, so yet again the positives outweigh the negatives!


I took class this morning at Broadway Dance Center from Keigwin+Co's Emily Shoen and knew that it was going to be the perfect class for a beautiful Thursday morning. I don't usually take class much in the morning anymore either so that was a nice change of pace. (Wait, back up...My iced coffee this morning was totally on point. T'was perfect from first sip to last.) My expectations were met and then exceeded, as I knew they would be; a little improv-y movement to get the muscles moving (not that they weren't already warmed up from the commute uptown!), some technique-y warm-up exercises, a lighthearted across-the-floor phrase to get us moving, and then we learned a little rep from the K+C company which, as always, was too much fun. It's movement that I so love being able to put into my body because it's really the perfect combination of technique and release, I guess. The contemporary style of the company is one that I love watching, I love dancing...I'm a definitely all-around fan! And BOY was I sweating by the time class was over! But there's nothing like a good, disgusting summer dance sweat to make a girl feel refreshed and revitalized. Seriously, I left ballet yesterday feeling the same way. It's like a fantastic natural cleanse. So good. 


Random run-ins on the street are always fun and today New York City was throwing them at me! This included seeing one of my dance teachers from back home while I was waiting for class at BDC. Was NOT expecting that! I mean I knew she was in the city but it was such a great surprise to see her unexpectedly walk around the corner! Her class was starting before mine so we chatted for a minute and made plans for coffee later this afternoon. What a nice taste of home that was!


I took a quick walk through Central Park while killing time between class and coffee. Sunbathers, runners/bikers, tourists in pedicab seats took in the sights, the playground was alive with happy kids on summer break; I walked by a group of little kids in matching t-shirts (maybe 6...7 years old?) with their camp counselors by the fence on one of the fields. They were cheering their team members on enthusiastically as each new kid took on their leg of a relay race. I had to stop for a minute and watch because they were just too cute. So happy. So excited. What's more positively contagious than a happy kid? I'll tell you...Not one thing.


I found myself smiling a lot while I was walking down the street all day. Good music kept playing on my iPod and everything about the city was bringing me joy. Even the heat. The sun was almost calming to me and my skin was thankful for a hearty dose of Vitamin D. The streets felt very alive to me and I can't help but feel grateful when I get to be part of such a community. This is a big city with a lot of people and a lot going on. But knowing that my place--my story--is a part, is a humbling and exciting thing to remember. I think everyone feels drowned in the mix at some point or another, which is completely normal, but then you remember that it's truly amazing to be able to be here, there, or wherever you are. To be in the heart of it all no matter where you may be or what you may be doing. 


Joy without reason. Many days lately, including today, I'm only able to pin down vague things that are making me walk down the street perfectly content and goofily smiling--adorable kids in the park, a Q express train that's come to take me home at the end of the day instead of the local R train. But the real happiness isn't coming from these things. These are examples of specifics I can give in the case that specifics are needed. No, this joy really is coming from the simple state of being. Here and now. No matter what is happening, laughter or stress or whatever on the emotional spectrum, life is happening. And that in itself is a gift that I can't give enough thanks for. Life's happening, and in it love and peace are always within reach.


Happy Thursday, friends :) 

Don't Touch Your Nails. I Repeat, Do Not Touch Your Nails.

The main purpose of tonight's post is really to keep me busy while I put a new coat of nail polish on so I don't rush it like I did last night, resulting in a simply utterly terrible manicure. Not my best, to say the least! So, hello to all who have wound up on this page! I think I'm going to include a few photos along with this as well because, well, I've got them and because I don't have much more to write about than to give an account of what happened today! (It was a good day though, I have to say!)


Firstly: Base coat...Check. Hang on...Gotta put on the first coat of color. (I'm feeling like maybe a nice mint green is going to be the winner tonight?)


Also super quick fun fact about me: I can't type lengthy things that require real thought when I have music playing from my iTunes library in my computer. I just had to switch to my iPod because for some reason I get so distracted when it's coming from the same place into which I'm supposed to be pouring my thoughts. Don't know...C'est la vie! 


Okay, good deal. Feeling good about this nail painting go-around already. Now do NOT touch your nails, Michaela. Type until you think they're dry and then keep typing for two more minutes. 


Sheesh. What a process.


ANYWAY, today was a big ballet day for me. Two of my very favorite ballet teachers were teaching today and I had two work-study classes left to use (ever...for the time being, at least) at Broadway Dance Center so I figured what better way to put them to use? (Please see Figure A below for a look at what the thought of $18 dance classes as opposed to $5 ones did to my face though. It wasn't pretty...)

Ballet class #1 with Jack Herzog was fantastic as usual. No matter how I'm dancing on any particular day I always leave his class feeling accomplished and happy. He's such a sweet man and gives a wonderful and challenging class, yet it's still an enjoyable 90 minutes. And today it was also a HOT 90 minutes. HOLY COW. Usually in ballet I can make it to about ronde-de-jambes at the barre before I really start sweating, but starting your daily sweat upon leaving your apartment in the morning really doesn't help your case, so you know you're going to be sweating buckets by the time the first side of pliés is finished. Five minutes into class. It ALSO didn't help that I had a nice, lengthy walk along Riverside Park before class, but the sun was out and the water was calling my name once again! I had no choice! But yes, class was really good actually...pirouettes were pretty much happening, so that's always a good thing! Grande allegro at the end of class was a fun one as well...It moved a lot and for once I wasn't lagging behind the music, which I know I tend to do during grande allegro, so class was seen through to the end as a success, I believe! And then I changed my shorts so I could go outside the studio for a bit and this was what happened when I took off the previously monochromatic grey bloomers:

Be right back...time for coat two!


Oh yes, this is a much better attempt than last night's. No comparison!


After ballet #1 I cooled down and enjoyed the afternoon jolt of caffeine at a Starbucks around the corner and did some reading. Pleasure reading! How nice is it to have that as a thing in life again?! My current book choice is "The Cranes Dance" by Meg Howrey. I highly recommend it to all who like ballet. If you don't you may not like it, but it's fiction and it's got a lot of humor and a lot of drama, so I still highly recommend it. Take it or leave it! Here's the thing about Starbucks though, especially in the city...Like, I totally understand that space is tight and there are far more people than square footage for retailers, but it's close to impossible to find seating. But I guess that's how you make friends! (Sharing tables and whatnot.) It's not the end of the world...It's just really tricky to find seating sometimes so it's always easy to complain about! Then back to BDC I went for ballet #2, but mostly I went back earlier than necessary because I had to charge my phone and the only outlet I could see was by the seat over there that was taken very quickly by that guy when those two people finally left, after about 5 fake-out departures. But again, not the end of the world. I had to start warming up again anyway. 


Class #2, taught by the amazing Matthew Powell, was good as well, though it was definitely different; within the hour before class started I went to fill up my water bottle and on my way back down the hallway my left ankle starting having shooting pains every time I put pressure on it. This happens frequently so don't freak out or anything...Something was just out of place enough so that my body decided it needed let me know to take it a little easier. And I really had no choice because every time I went to plié or relevé I could feel it so I'd have to modify some things. I'm really only saying this because it's a prime example of how real it is that every time you step into the studio it's is a brand new experience. Three hours earlier I had not one kink in my body. This time around it took almost all of class to get that ankle cooperating with me again. Ahhh, but that's what keeps you aware and present and thinking! (But if it's an injury? Yeah, you may not want to think through that one so much as maybe thinking about getting on the RICE routine or whatever you need to do to get yourself better!) 


Wait, let me check the nails...Yep, top coat ready. Hold one, please!


Well daggonit, I'd say we've done it! NOW...The Final Test. Can she make it until the top coat dries or will she lose it right at the end? We shall see! (Though I'm feeling good about it tonight, seeing as last night I think I had a fingerprint or two on a few of them by about halfway through painting the second coat of color. What can I say? Beauty's tough! ;))


And that was my day! Lots of ballet, lots of feeling good about the ballet that was done, and lots of sweat that really tuckered me out. I think that's why there are a few less smilies in this post. (As in I don't think I've used one yet? Weird! But honestly I think if I used more than one or two I'd be giving you reason to make inaccurate emotional inferences, because my heart is happy but my face is sleeeeeeepy. I think I've typed half of this with my eyes closed. Haha!) And friends, this nail painting/blogging tag-team thing is great! And I believe is really working out well! It's still too soon to tell and I will NOT give in and touch those minty nails yet, but methinks we've made it! 


Well, I guess that means one thing. Nope, maybe three things.


1. It's the weekend! Happy, happy weekend to all! :)
2. I have painted nails sans chips and fingerprints! 
3. I didn't do these earlier and now I have painted nails sans chips and fingerprints, so I guess now I'm waiting until tomorrow? ;)

(I know, I KNOWWWW...So gross. FIRST THING TOMORROW.)


By George, we've done it! Mission complete and crisis averted! Friends, we make a great team! My nails and I thank you sincerely! :)

Happiness. Say No More!

I have so much in my head but no sense of how to put it all together into written words. Whatever's bouncing around in there though has my heart overflowing with gratefulness, excitement, humbleness, awe...And I can't pin down one dang thing! I've been sitting here trying to think of some way to even begin a paragraph that would do justice to all this emotion but I can't so I won't! It's this city, mostly. This city and its summer energy mixed with the love from the amazing people I get to know mixed with dance mixed with dresses mixed with good summer reading books mixed with laughter mixed with...(I think you get the point). Every day is similar enough, yet brand spankin' new with every sunrise; every day when I wake up I never really know what's coming my way...the day will be beautiful in its uniqueness, all facets of life included. (This morning I woke up laughing. Laughing! I've always known to be a strange sleeper, but that one's a new one to me and started the whole day off on such a fun note!) 


Something's in me and it's got me glad :) 


Like, in my mind, this is how walks to the dance studio, the grocery store, Forever 21, the subway, Starbucks, the dentist (well, not so much the dentist maybe...) should be every day:

Alright NYC...Let's dance! :)

When In Doubt, Talk About the Weather

Well New York, that was a weather-crazy Monday, huh?! I mean, thunderstorms at 8 in the morning?! With full on thunder and lightning and some seriously good-sized raindrops coming down with a purpose, that's for sure! But I can't lie...I really liked it. I mostly loved it for the wonderful cool air we were left with as each storm passed after these last few days of sticky heat and humidity, but I find summer rains to be quite relaxing, whether they be storms, sun showers (of which we had a GREAT one tonight!), or plain ol' rain (though that's my least favorite of the three), I find it to be so relaxing! And this isn't quite the norm for me...Usually I'm the kind of person who really only likes rain on lazy weekend afternoons off when nothing is required of me other than couch sitting, pajama wearing, movie watching and sleeping. But during the summer it's different I think because during the summer, like on days like today, the sun doesn't fully go away and even if the rain is coming down hard like it did this afternoon when I got out of class it somehow seems more forgiving. It's less of a menacing weather condition that's out to make our lives miserable, but more of a welcoming refresher amidst the rising temperatures and humidity index. I don't know...A day of summer rain like this makes me happy, even when I don't have an umbrella. Or rain boots. (Don't own either of them. It'll go on my priority list one of these days...!)


Am I sounding crazy? I feel like I might be sounding a little crazy. Well, long story short, I liked the weather today. Okay! So...good talk!


Kidding. Though I really don't have too much to say tonight. I took a walk after dinner though for the first time in awhile. I do a lot of walking here in the city. I love it. I love that there are always new things to see, no matter how many times I take a certain route. Though I really like to switch up my routes and see different sights...Keeps things more interesting! Anyway, I took a walk after dinner tonight because I ate dinner early for some reason, the sun was coming in from behind some recent rain clouds all golden and prettily and I was getting antsy in my apartment. So out I went! The East River is close to my apartment so I called Dad and moseyed (WEIRD spelling...whoa) on over to the water. I am very glad I did. It was a stunning evening!


Guys, I love this city. But I love the water. Like, I LOVE being by the water. No place is more relaxing to me. Oceans, rivers, lakes, ponds...Whatever I can get I take because there's only so much unforgiving concrete and angularity a person can take before they need to take in some different, calmer vibes for a minute. Not that I don't love this city for all that it is; I've lived here for three years now and I'm still awestruck at the sheer magnitude of this place. It's truly incredible and I'm thankful for it and humbled by it every single day. But when I need a change of pace, being by the water is where I'm able to fully, fully find quiet. That's why I'm grateful that the people who planned out this city did such a great job with taking into account that nature is kind of an important part of life! Between Central Park and the two waterfront parks that I've explored, I've found several spots that are my automatic go-to's that never fail me and allow me to feel a little bit removed from the craziness of the city streets. 


So tonight I walked over to the East River after dinner, chatting with Dad, and totally drank in the beauty of the waterfront. It's the most scenic stretch of the river, but with the Queensboro Bridge right to the left (I thiiiiink it's that one), boats coming going, and the reflection of the sun setting in the post-storm pink and periwinkle clouds, yup, that's all I needed! Pair with all of that with a cool, salty breeze and I could have been on vacation! (Except not at all, but for the moment it's good enough!)


As I was walking back I was TOTALLY amazed at how incredibly amazing tonight's sunset was, and was TOTALLY bummed that I was, like, 13 avenues away from the opposite side of the island. It was all I could do to turn left at 1st Ave and get myself back to my apartment...I've been known to run down the street--yes, run--to catch the full sunset. Like one time I was taking one of my favorite theater jazz classes at Broadway Dance Center. It was from 4-6 PM and we were maybe 40 minutes into the class and we were on the floor stretching facing the back of the room. It was a crowded class and I was close to the door...I looked through the little window of the door out the bigger window outside the studio and foresaw a gorgeous sunset just by how the colors were already starting to distribute across the sky. Instantly I decided I had no choice but to see it before I went back downtown. Class was great, and then right when it was over I grabbed my bag, threw on my clothes, left the building as fast as I could and took off down the street toward the Hudson. Full on run, which is a little difficult with a huge dance bouncing off your shoulder. But run I did because I did not want to be missing this sight, being so close that evening. Out the door of BDC I kept going right down 45th street only to find that my view was going to be blocked by piers and docks and things I totally didn't account for. So down the Hudson I ran until I finally found a stretch with a clearing. I was really not looking cute at all during this fast-paced commute, I passed a few police officers along the way who probably thought I was some kind of crazy, and was no match for the runners and the cyclists making their evening exercise rounds beside me on the path, but once I got there, all out of breath and red in the face, it was worth it. I stood there for maaaaaybe 7 minutes. Ish. Give or take a few. I wasn't there long, as it was already starting to get dark and I was ready to get home--I then realized that I was going to have to walk a ways to a subway line, as NOTHING runs over to 12th avenue...so dumb. But it was worth it. Those quick moments of beauty can't be passed up and sunsets are my favorite ones. I could sit and watch them until the the last ray of light vanishes below the horizon, which is saying something as patience is absolutely not a virtue I have naturally. But sunsets, like the water, make me calm and happy. They don't last forever and every single one is different, so when I'm able to witness a truly stunning one (like what I saw of tonight's...holy cow, too incredible!) I do what I can to hold on to that minute or two and fully take in everything about it that I can. What the color scheme is. How the colors feed into and around the clouds. The shapes of the clouds. What my favorite part about the overall composition in front of me is. (Geez, that is such the artist in me talking. Haha!) 


But I'm really going to have to live on the west side at some point or another so that I don't have to guess about what the big picture looks like from the little bit I see from the far east end of 20th Street and can more easily have access to it. I don't think island-wide sprints can really turn into a regular thing ;)


I think I just rambled your eyes off about the weather. The epitome of small-talk conversation topics. (I told you I had nothing to say!) Weather. Water. Sunsets. You've gotta love it all in the summertime :) Stay cool and keep smiling, friends! Here's to a great rest of the week!

A Visit to the Kid on Memory Lane

I consider myself to be a really nostalgic person. I like this and I don't-so-like this, but I mostly like it. As a year goes by my big nostalgia comes and goes in phases, the first of which being around prom season in May with summer right around the corner and schools winding down...Everyone remembers that season of the high school calendar when the sun is shining, the pools are open, the reminders that clothing has to cover everything are given over the morning announcements every other day, and the last thing anyone wants to do is spend seven hours sitting in desks listening to people talk but the excited summertime energy makes it okay and bearable. The summer goes on and I hit the pre-school year phase when the back-to-school preps are in full swing: supply shopping (my FAVORITE), first day of school outfit shopping and getting in all the hours of kickball and bike riding in the cul-de-sac as possible before the outside world becomes an unknown place among the hours of homework and extracurriculars once again. Then fall comes and from the beginning of the season right through to the end of the Christmas holiday season and I basically relocate myself to Memory Lane for an extended stay. Between school dances and holiday traditions and The Nutcracker and beautiful, crisp Sunday evenings watching TV with the family because I didn't have any homework or finished it all nice and early like a good student (hah), September-December is full of happiness for me...Lots of happy memories that bring me great joy to recall.

But now it's summer! As of yesterday, actually! So happy summer, friends! Summertime as a kid was the other best three months of the year to me. (And, I know, to most kids out there who could finally sleep in until noon and experience life on a whim for a bit...That is, if Mom or Dad would drive!) I've been going through one of my particularly nostalgic bouts recently, I think partly because of the fact that life's currently in such an up-in-the-air place so I've been going back and digging up some bits of familiarity, but also just because it's nice to touch base with some of the old times, remembering what they were, with whom they were spent, and how those times and those people have factored in to where I'm at today. So for today, here are a few of my particular favorites:

1. I think we all know that it's hot outside. I stepped out to go grab my iced coffee this morning and was immediately thrown back to Hidden Creek Country Club in Reston, VA. Every summer between the ages of 6 and 13, Nana signed me up for their Junior Golf Program, which was a weekly thing that allowed for kids to get out on the course and learn the game. I LOVED IT and the longer I go without playing (it's been a really long time at this point) the more I miss it. Tuesday morning golf meant a lot of great things for a kid of that age, including:

 -A Monday night sleepover at Nana and Pop-pop's house every week, which meant: my    personal dinner requests (they still take them when I visit and head to their house for a visit...Nana's always been great about making sure that she's prepared for when her kids come over!), Super Mario Bros on the SuperNintendo in the basement (which still works, BAM), ice cream and old musicals like Meet Me in St. Louis and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Oklahoma! after dinner, among other things!

-Tuesday morning breakfasts from Nana (the works) 

-A fun couple of hours on the golf course with Nana and the other kids and their parents and grandparents...I was a 9-holer so it never took too terribly long to get through the round, though because we had to walk we had a tendency to slow down as the course went on with our little legs and our big golf bags. We had some great laughs, Nana was a fantastic cheerleader (especially when I got that first birdie on 15...One shot to the green, one putt into the hole...hollaaaa), and because golf mornings are what I now associate the scent of bug spray with, I don't have a huge problem with it! Haha! 

-A trip to the snack bar when we were finished, sometime the pool when I remembered my bathing suit, and then an afternoon back at Nana and Pop-pop's before having to get ready for ballet class in the evening!

Golf summers were great. There were weekly competitions within the program, like lowest number of putts and things like that to keep us engaged. (Or to keep kids without senses of humor, like me, nervous with really clammy hands the entire morning.) We had Pro-Am and Parent-Kid tournaments throughout the summer. One time, Dad and I were playing--it was an alternating shot kind of deal...He'd go, I'd go--and we hit into the trees where the cart path was. He aimed the ball back for the fairway, it bounced off a tree right back to us. I did the same thing. He did the same thing. I think it took us four or five shots to get out of that spot...Needless to say, that round probably wasn't our best, but the laughs we had after the fact were totally worth it. 

Yes. Those were good days. Plus, I really miss the khaki skorts I wore with my P.E. tennis shoes and socks halfway up my shins...(Sorry for the sarcasm...I really do miss the golf, I don't miss my fashion-less days...)

2. The summer beach trip. Nags Head, NC was the yearly destination. (Or one of the surrounding beaches...Southern Shores, Duck...It's all the same to me.) I'm reminded of this one a lot here in the city, actually, because on my way to NYLA, a rehearsal studio I've spent a lot of time at over the last six months, I discovered a spot on the sidewalk on W. 19th Street that smells JUST like Newmann's Shell Shop. The first time I walked by it I freaked out and texted my parents. (What did it smell like, you ask? Well, the building that I walk by is Bed, Bath and Beyond so I'm pretty sure it's just the scent of their potpourri coming out of the vent. But it's Newmann's!!) Newmann's, unfortunately, closed down several years ago...It was one of our annual to-dos during our beach week and they always had the same shells and toys, a few t-shirts, and lamps and things made out of beach glass. I would get a little souvenir sandcastle to add to my collection and it was from Newmann's that I got my first, and only, hermit crab. (A much better idea than reality.) It was a small, family owned one-room building right on Beach Road, and I'm still a little bummed that it had to close. Trust me, it smelled great. 

I'm pretty sure what takes the cake for summer beach week, though, is the pirate saga. Growing up, we always went to the beach with close family friends, and what became of the pirate adventures over the course of all those years I will never forget and I was ALWAYS love and look back on happily. First of all, Dad and Richard used to tell us stories about their days on the high seas, giving us accounts of their run-ins with Captain Blackbeard (the bad guy) and the bravery of Captain Bluebeard (the good guy)...I mean, I knew my Mom and Dad had a boat when I was really little, AND Dad knew how to run it, so I knew there was truth to it all! Richie and I used to sit on the deck with our binoculars and scan the ocean's horizon for pirate ships. Whenever we saw a fishing boat or a whatever boat or a figment of an imagination boat sitting out there, we'd automatically start discussing who we thought it was--Blackbeard or Bluebeard--and what they were doing here. As we got older, the pirates started leaving us things back in the house throughout the day. We'd come in for lunch after being on the beach all morning and go back into the bedroom to find doubloons on our pillows. There would be a pile of precious stones on the kitchen table. There would be a note on the deck. (Things were happening, y'all.) The week would go on and we'd hide away our findings, fearing that Blackbeard would sneak in when we went back to the beach after lunch and steal our treasures. But don't worry...we were very careful and nothing was ever touched. As the years went by, I think the unseen pirates (we decided it was Bluebeard's doing) began to really trust us, as we'd start finding treasure maps on the last morning. By the time the pirates made their last hoorah, we woke up to find a glass bottle with a singed map inside. On the map was a diagram of our house's property (!!!), instructions for us to follow--paces, directions (!!!), and a big ol' X (!!!). Picture it...I can't even remember what exact ages we were, but we were probably about 12, 11 and 7, at the oldest. So you can assume that there was an excited bunch of kids in that house. Excited, but SERIOUS. We had treasure to find, y'all! So out we went to the back deck and we followed our map to a T. Guess what we found?! The X. Guess what was buried there?! A BIG, OL' TREASURE CHEST. Filled with doubloons, gold, goblets and jewels. The chest was burned and had etchings of initials and crossbones and a few bullets had been wedged into the sides! Something had gone down out there on the open ocean, but this treasure had made it and was now safe with us. With the help of our moms, the treasure was divvied and stashed in our closet for safekeeping and we went about the rest of our last beach day.

Guys, the treasure chest and map came home with us, it lived in my bedroom, and I showed it off to people. For, like, years. If you ever came over to my house to play, I'm pretty sure you probably saw it. 

Seriously though...happenings like this went on summer after summer. What is not to love about real live treasure hunts? I'll tell you...nothing. Just make sure that if you ever find some, lock it up in your closet right away so Captain Blackbeard doesn't come steal it away ;)

Dwelling in the past is an unproductive way to go about spending time. But thinking about it and being thankful for it and taking a minute to relive the joy that those times brought you isn't, I don't think. I think it's a good thing actually...These days, whenever I think about summertime as a kid, I'm reminded at how awesome my family is. I'm reminded of all the great things that life brought up until this point, and all of that makes me excited to see what's going to come after it. I'm able to refresh the lessons that I've learned along the way, like don't take yourself too seriously and always have good manners. (Thanks to Dad I learned from an early time--"What do good manners make little girls?" "Pretty." "What do good manners make little boys?" "Handsome." My face would always turn red when I had to answer the "handsome" part. It probably still would. But this is a lesson I'll never forget and still holds true!) I'm also reminded to enjoy these moments. We enjoy those moments we have as kids because we don't really know to do anything else. The older we get, the more "stuff" life brings with it and it's easy to forget about the fun part. Now, vacations have to be timed a little better to fit in between this and that, and a day at the beach isn't complete without emails and work calls. A visit home is shadowed by what needs to be done before getting back to the city and not getting completely out of shape before that audition next week. But take all of that extra stuff away and what's left? The same things we always knew: the family, the time, the season...Other things may be calling our attention elsewhere, but take time every so often to hone in on the simplicity of the moment beneath all the extra chaos. 

Be a kid and find that joy every once in awhile :)

Smiling, Sweating, and Singin' in Ballet Class.

Well! It's HOT! (Thus the red text color, obviously!) I, for one, wasn't expecting temperatures to go up so high until later in the afternoon so you'd better believe I was some kind of thankful when I walked out my door at 9 A.M. headed to rehearsal in comfy dance clothes instead of the skinny jeans I was contemplating putting on up until I decided I didn't feel like hauling a ton of clothes around all day. Wow!! But it's summertime, so I'm not going to complain about it! (Nah, yes I will. Just ignore me when I do or tell me to cut it out! Haha! :) But I will say this...Thanks to all this nasty sweating--I mean, nasty heat sweat--I. smell. terrible. Yiiiikes!)


Today has been a right wonderful day of dance, and it's not over yet! This morning started off creatively at DANY studios with Calen and Kathy, and it felt really great to be back in the studio for the purposes of the creative process. As you may know by now, I love taking dance classes. If it was an option to be a professional dance class taker, I may opt to be just that. But besides a really great dance class, there's nothing I love more than being in a studio creating, whether it be starting a new work from the very first conceptual idea or learning choreography and staging that's been previously known to the world. This morning was Calen's, who is a finalist for the 2012 Capezio A.C.E. awards (!!!!!), first rehearsal to start getting out movement and ideas for his new piece that will be showcased in July. Ahhhh, how refreshing it was to be in the studio dancing and thinking and sweating and moving! But mostly thinking, and thinking with such incredible artists (who I'm also grateful to have as teachers, mentors and friends as well). Rehearsal began on a good note and ended on a good note. There was really great energy, there were great dance moves happening, and a true joy for this day and that time and all things that would follow those couple of hours was very, very present. And THAT, my friends, is how to start off a Wednesday morning!


Rehearsal was followed by ballet class, a personal necessity for me both physically and emotionally. Ballet class is where the technique comes from, so for someone like me, it's not something that I can let slip by the wayside. Nor do I want to! Jack Hertzog's ballet class at Broadway Dance Center is my very favorite. (1:30-3 on Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday and he teaches a few nights at City Center as well!) He's a wonderful person, very sweet and happy with a calmness about him that I really appreciate when I'm trying to accomplish his doozie of a pirouette combination, and his class is challenging, yet I never leave defeated. Some days, like yesterday for instance, I left class saying to myself, "Huh! He pulled out all the tricks today!" It was like just a string of difficulties! It was one of those classes that I knew would be at least a little off from the very beginning of class. (To some of you this will make sense, to some of you it may not, but here's the dancer-talk coming out for a minute.) I have a tendency to sit really far back--shoulders and scapula sitting so far behind my centerline I can practically see it halfway across the room. This makes for some tricky times and I have to keep a constant awareness and keep physically stacking the bones of my spine so I don't fall backwards, and it's basically just a battle that I could definitely do without but I guess it is what it is! So yesterday I knew very early on that my center was off. Barre went on and it didn't improve and then center came and I was falling all over the place because I just couldn't hold myself vertical in one piece! Discombobulation at its finest, folks! Turning is usually something I really enjoy, but yesterday I was trying too hard, working too non-vertically, and not one turn really worked in my favor. Jack, who is so great about getting to know students even in such a big drop-in studio such as BDC, recognized that I was off, he knew that I knew that I was off, and he had to make the correction because he's the teacher and that's his job, but because he knew that I was well aware, he smiled at me after my group finished one go of it and simply said, "You're throwing yourself a little off...Sitting a little far back..." to which one could only reply, "Yes! All day!!" And with that, he laughed a little, I went off to the side to keep trying to get myself on my blasted leg (with no success, unfortunately) and that was that! (But keep in mind, none of the center combinations were easy yesterday...Lots of surprises, as he seemed to be in a particularly showy mood for our class!) That's what I love about him and his class--he gives great exercises that require accurate technique, a presence of mind, and a love for movement because, yes, you're going to be moving a ton! He gives great corrections but never in a judgmental or condescending way and works with you if something isn't sitting right. Never once have I left a Jack Hertzog ballet class feeling discouraged, even if the class was THE worst thing I've ever taken in my life. And for that reason I am there as much as I possibly can be! 


Here's another thing I discovered about myself today. (Please forgive me, as I'm copying and pasting the following sentences from my Facebook status. It's just too relevant!) I realized today that while I absolutely love ballet and get so much enjoyment out of taking ballet classes for the dance aspect, the fact that we get to share space and energy with such incredible musicians during our class time is what allows me to love it the most. Nothing beats taking class to live music. It's amazing and quite an honor to be able to be in such collaboration with such incredible, skilled professionals all the time who love their own art equally as much as you do. Seriously though, there's nothing like taking ballet class and being able to feed off of the dynamics of the music that the pianist is providing us. Sometimes if the pianist and the teacher are well-acquainted or it's a regular class where we all know each other well (like at Tisch, for example), fun things happen and it's almost just like a bunch of friends getting together and hanging out with a little music and a little dancing...Suddenly the set list for class becomes mixes of the classical staples with Top 40 hits with old Broadway scores with Disney songs...I've heard it all, and no matter what is coming from the hands of the pianist over in the front corner of the room, the fact that they're sharing it with us to be used as a tool to further our own artistic development is a gift.


And that's the more "profound" (<--not even) reason as to why live music can't be matched.
The other reason? Because the second you recognize that you're doing grand battements to "Dancing Queen" or the dreaded adagio combination to something from "The Sound of Music," all of a sudden class gets even more fun :)


And then bring on the task of the ballet barre-karaoke duo, though I have been known to take on the challenge MANY a time ;) 


Basically, all I've got today is this: I love dance. I love this city. I love dancing in this city. And no matter how fantastic or how insanely hard those hours are that are spent working in the studio, time was spent working in the studio. That is what makes my heart so dang happy :)