I'm still alive!

Apparently Blatheration went on a very brief and totally unintentional hiatus. Things got busy, I have a show happening this weekend, and just plumb forgot to post things. 

My bad.

I suppose a tiny update is therefore in order. The afore mentioned show is the North West New Works festival at On the Boards. Please come check it out if you are in the Seattle area and in the mood for some quirky dance, theater, and singing.

I still have my car and I still love it. 

I went crazy at Lululemon yesterday and bought shorts, pants, and a sports bra. I think that purchasing three items at another store would not normally be considered ridiculous but OMG HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR CRAZY PERSON PRICES? However, Ricky bought me a Lululemon sweatshirt for Valentines Day this year and I love it and I think I will enjoy the things I bought. Also, I was having a little buyers remorse as I left the store, but then I got to my dress rehearsal and David (my choreographer) gave me my paycheck for the show. Which was 100% more than I thought it would be, because up until that point I wasn't aware that I was getting paid at all. So then I had some super surprise money and I felt better about the whole thing in general. 

Speaking of feeling better about things, I've been doing some pondering lately. Sometimes, if I've  had a bad audition, or if I haven't taken a dance class in awhile, or if I seriously think about the fact that I'm college educated and am working a job that doesn't even require a high school diploma, I feel a little squishy about the career path I have chosen. There is a lot of rejection, and a lot of financial stress, and a lot of working crazy hours at weird jobs. I came to the realization the other day (while driving my super fine car) that I'm a smart person, and if I wanted to I could probably be very successful at a more traditional lawyer, dentist, teacher kind of job. BUT THEN the Tony's happened and I was reminded that actually I didn't choose this career path. I was LadyGagaBornThisWay. I have to only do this. I HAVE TO I HAVE TO OR I WILL DIE.

woah, passion.

In order to fully demonstrate my point, I present you with the 2011 Tony performance of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying. I've choreographed this musical before, and normally when I see other productions of musicals I've done (even Broadway productions) I'm secretly like, "Psh, mine was better". But I will willingly admit that this choreography is fucking amazing. So, please watch this video with me (I've watched it five times today already). 

I actually don't understand how anybody would ever want to do anything else but this.

An Audition Story

I don't normally post about auditions on this blog. I do this completely consciously because although I like to maintain the facade that I am super normal and well-balanced, I'm secretly a hyper-nervous superstitious lunatic and I'm terrified of jinxing things.

However, it came to my attention that my readership is primarily made up of non-theater types (that I'm aware of anyways. I haven't forgotten about you, creepy lurkers.) So I thought I'd give some insight into the wonderful world of auditioning. Because BOY DID I HAVE A CRAZY ONE THIS WEEK.

It was a dance audition, for a venue that shall remain nameless, with a choreographer who will go down in my personal history as the most *ahem* artistic man I have yet to encounter.

I knew a good chunk of the dancers there, so after signing in, handing over our headshots and resumes, and receiving out name-tag stickers, we were all hanging out, stretching and what not. The din of catching-up chatter and vigorous warming-up was interrupted when the choreographer wandered into our midst and, without saying anything, started doing a tiny dance.

Gradually people caught on to what was happening and tried to follow along. However, instead of facing away from us, as is customary, he danced looking straight at us, causing much confusion and cockamamie attempts to reverse the choreography to match what he was doing.

Finally he stopped, sighed, and announced in a vague European accent,

"I vill demo this for you, but do not copy me. You must make it your own."

So, he demos the combination, and immediately the room is in a frenzy of music and dancers all doing the combo in their own unique way. Different facings, different timings, all manner of leg and arm variations. We dance non-stop, trying to figure out what he wants, hoping he'll notice us.

Finally, he stops everyone and sighs exasperatedly,

"Vell, I vill be honest. You're simply ruining my choreography. Ruining it. You are all late and are doing nothink about it! I can't help you if you do not get on the horse and ride it. You must ride the horse!"

So, again, the cacophony of music and dancing begins again, only manic this time. Everyone dancing as fast as they can, trying to passionately ride the horse. The choreographer divides us up into groups, motions for us to begin, and then wanders away to talk to other dancers, completely ignoring the poor souls who were dancing their hearts out. 

Finally, after all the groups have gone, he announces that he would like to see solos,

"But only if you truly desire."

Obviously, everyone wants the job. So everyone desires to do a solo. So we stand there. For an hour. While every single dancer does a solo.

You can imagine that this became tedious very quickly. Luckily, the choreographer extraordinaire would periodically hurl scandalous insults, temporarily rekindling our interest. At one point, he stopped a poor guy in the middle of his passionate, horse riding solo to tell him that he "vas making the choreography look very flat".

Eventually, after everyone's solo desires had been met, he let us go. And the dancers of Seattle wandered out into the street in a collective daze, with hopes dashed and egos wilting. 

It's a strange profession.

Week in Review

This week has just flown by.

Ricky and I went out to breakfast at our favorite Capitol Hill restaurant and plotted our move to NYC.

And ate some frozen yogurt in the park.

And even supported some of Chris' cohorts at a genuine dance battle (at which I felt unbelievably white).

Now I'm jonesing to take a hip hop class. I'm also jonesing to buy legit camera so that I can take action shots on something other than my phone. Because I'm doing really well at my resolution to take more pictures and this silly camera phone is simply not cutting it anymore.

But now I can officially start saving for one because I FINALLY BOUGHT A CAR THIS WEEK. It's a gold 2003 Pontiac Grand Am. More than one person has called it a grandma car, but it's a car and it works and I am satisfied. I had to do really grown-up things like go to the bank and buy insurance and nonsense like that, and now I'm feeling weirdly adult. 

Didn't work much this week, but tonight it's back to the grind. More scheduling conflicts have presented themselves so I'm stressing about that. Again. Blah. Why can't I just have steady performing work and not have to bother with this day (night) job stuff?

Urg.

But I have a car. :)

The Summer Day

I was feeling kind beat down today. Kind of tired, kind of stressed, but mostly a just plain ol' lack of confidence, trusting what others believe I can do vs. what I believe (what I know) I can do. You know?

So I did a little happiness therapy. I snuck off to sunnny downtown Seattle and bought three little make-me-smile treats.

Earrings, nail polish, and a 5-year, question-a-day journal.

And while I was wandering around Anthropologie, wishing I had more space in my apartment for their millions of precious knick-knacks, I started thinking about my life, and my goals, and my dreams. And there, among the dresses and bars of soap and dishtowels I made some resolutions.

I will make more art.

I will take more pictures.

I will compliment strangers out loud, instead of being overcome by shyness and just thinking the compliments in my head.

I will move to New York by this time next year and continue to pursue my dreams whole-heartedly. With every fiber.

Someday, when the time is right, I will have babies.

I will enjoy the hell out of being young.

I will age gracefully.

I will read, I will read, I will read.

I will work hard to maintain friendships that are meaningful to me.

I will take nothing too seriously and savor victories small and large.

Today was the first day that it's truly felt like summer here in Seattle and I'm looking forward to the plans I have for the next few months. A while back I asked for book recommendations and then I went on Amazon and bought a cheap used copy of every single recommendation I got. My goal is to read them all by September. I'm working on my splits. I'm going to cook a lot. And, if all goes according to plan, I may very well be learning how to drive a stick shift.

.....tell me, what do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

dancing in the basement

A few pics captured of Marlo Martin's 'dancing in the basement' for your viewing pleasure on this sunny Saturday morning. From the show I was in a few weeks ago.

Happy Weekend!

Promo Video

The promo video for the Northwest New Works Show was just posted, and it's making me extra excited for this show. Check it out below (I'm in Quark Contemporary Dance Theater, there's a split second shot of me with my black hood up and sunglasses on somewhere in the middle of the video.)


NW New Works 2011 Trailer from ontheboards on Vimeo.


And that's about it.

Move along, nothing to see here.

I Love Lists

We're just going to give up on that whole "I'm going to blog every day this week" thing. Okay? My schedule is just too sporadic and unpredictable to be able to reliably keep that promise. So stop hounding me. Jeez.

But, in all seriousness, I do love blogging and am sad that I can't do it on the regular. Maybe someday I will have enough time/creativity to think of something interesting to say every day.

However, in the meantime, I'm going to indulge myself and make a list-post because that is my new favorite blogging technique.

1. I'm currently eating chocolate frozen yogurt. This is okay for many reasons. The first being that yogurt is a healthy, normal morning thing to eat. And yes I do consider 12:36 PM to be morning time, thank you very much. The second reason is that I just bought a shiny new pink ice cream scoop and I needed to make sure it worked properly. (It does.)

2. Speaking of the color pink, I've spent most of my life denying that I am a "girly-girl", but I think it's time to face facts. I don't leave the house without make-up on. I basically buy dresses in bulk. I love musicals, floral print, ballet flats, ballet in general, doing my hair, and painting my nails. And my favorite color is pink.

I can't help it. PS. That's my dad in the corner. :)

3. I miss my girly-girl partner in crime. Alli, the lovely redhead pictured above, was my roommate for my last two years of college. After a horrendous first two years of college - shaky romantic relationship, crowded dorms, death of my sister - my two years living with Alli and her sister Tommie, were the best I could have asked for. We baked all the time, and went shopping, watched Friends dvd's like there was no tomorrow, and danced a lot. She is now living with her boyfriend Justin and teaching first grade. I love living with Ricky, but sometimes I really miss staying up late, melting chocolate chips and peanut butter to eat with bananas, and stretching together while watching dancing shows and gossiping. 

4. I just got distracted from writing this post by Faces of Meth. SO FRIGHTENING. DON'T EVEN GOOGLE IT. FORGET I SAID ANYTHING.

5. Geesh. Still recovering. Happy girly blog, happy girly blog.

6. I think we better stop before things take a turn for the worst. 

Happy Thursday?