Five Things

Hi everyone!

Between running boring, adult errands (fingerprinting and insurance, anyone?), watching complete drivel on Youtube, and teaching what feels like constant ballet classes, I’ve come across a few little gems throughout the week. First off, I’ve been lucky enough to have a mailbox full of notes recently, which is a refreshing change from the junk/bills I usually get. Below is one of my favorites:


My friend Emily sent me this surprise “just because” postcard in the mail! Love the diamond in the middle. She knows me so well.


I’m relishing the last remnants of summer with my produce lately. I cut into this beautiful nectarine the other morning and its natural heart  shape made just me happy.


Apparently Yan-Yan now has “educational” phrases on each cookie, stick…thing. Star+Fish.

Also, I have giant hands. It’s not an illusion at all.


The most delicious seared ahi tuna and avocado taco at Garaje in San Francisco. I highly recommend.

and finally,

15 Career Tips from Smart Women

as featured on the amazing, and oft-frequented Joanna Goddard’s blog, “A Cup of Jo.” I think my favorite tip is from Hilary Rodham Clinton on the “perfectionist gene.” It’s something that I can wholeheartedly relate to. Do you think men worry about wearing the wrong shoes in a meeting? Um, no. Go forth, ladies, and conquer!


I’m a Dancer.

Hello everyone!

We all know that today is a day of reflection for many people, myself included. There’s every reason to be sad about what today commemorates. There’s no denying that there’s been a huge shift, and the world that we currently live in is not and has not been the world of thirteen years ago. If we dwell on this too much, it can be horribly upsetting, but then again, the only guaranteed thing in life is change. What I like to think about is the fact that this week marks another time that’s been significant in my life.


This photo was taken six years ago- almost to the day.

It’s a photo of the very first dance class that I taught. I still have the same leotard (I wore it today, in fact!), and I still roll one pant leg up in that silly dancer style. Like the very first dance class I ever took, this day stands out in my memory. I’ll also never forget being accepted into the BFA program in college, as our ballet teacher told us that we could call ourselves dancers now. While I vividly remember every production that I’ve ever done, these moments in my life stand out to me completely. I  remember being cast in my favorite rolls, the many hours spent backstage, and the stab of relief mingled with melancholy as a show run draws to a close. When people ask me what I do, I feel the need to explain things away. I feel odd saying: “I’m a dancer.” But, it’s the truth. I’m not a teacher, turned dance-enthusiast. I was a dancer before everything else.

I’ve found joy, and a solidarity in teaching. I didn’t decide to teach right off the bat, to be quite honest. I did the audition circuit, I took classes, and I ran around because I didn’t entirely know what to do. Sometimes I feel as if I get as much from my students as I’m giving them. The lack of judgement and the kindness they show me sometimes makes me wonder why the rest of life can’t be like it is in the studio. Growing up, you generally tend to cultivate a talent and passion for something. What they don’t teach you is that you can, logistically, make your passion your life, your way of making a living. It may not always come in the way you thought it would, but it’s possible.

There will come a day where I’ll be unable to dance like I do now. And probably a day where I feel cumbersome in a leotard and tights. But, that will never make me less of a dancer. As Martha Graham said, “”I have spent all my life with dance and being a dancer. It’s permitting life to use you in a very intense way. Sometimes it is not pleasant. Sometimes it is fearful. But nevertheless it is inevitable.”


This has been dubbed the “most graceful selfie” ever. Playing dress up. In this way, I hope I’ll never grow up.


In a tutu. Because I can.

It’s inevitable.


Ballet Bandwagon?

Hello everyone!

Quick question: has everyone else noticed the sudden uptick of ballet in ads and pop culture as of late? I sure have.

There’s the phenomenal Misty Copeland UnderAmour TV spot:

…the viral Taylor Swift music video:

…the many deoderant ads:

It seems that the idea that dancing is hard and/or sweat-inducing makes for great antiperspirant commercials. And, we can’t forget the infamous Free People spots gone horribly, horribly wrong.

So, what happened? It seems that every few years or so, ballet is thrust into the spotlight. Back in the day, it was Center Stage and more recently Black Swan, with all its dance double controversy. Dance has always been a big part of pop culture, but ballet, which has such a small niche, tends to come and go. It’s often labeled with the stigma of elitist, out-dated, and boring. Now, I’ll be the first one to tell you that I’m not the biggest fan of sitting through a three hour production of Swan Lake. Here’s a hint: uber-classical ballet is really fun…when you or your friends are the ones doing it. Recently, ballet as an art form has given way to so many visually diverse, modern, and mind-blowing new works. It’s changed so much over the last few decades, even.

 It’s always nice to see something you’re passionate about in the limelight. In a world that’s always moving on to the next “big thing,” it’s conversely frustrating to see people absorb the thing that you’ve dedicated your life to, without context, and move on. Misty Copeland, as beautiful as she is, is a very much (and self-proclaimed, I might add) the unlikely ballerina. Ballet, like any athletic endeavor, has its politics- its traditions and its trends. That being said, it’s wonderful to witness ballet’s evolution, and its occasional emergence in pop culture. All I ask is that, after you get tired of watching Taylor Swift play ballerina and when Misty’s chiseled physique ceases to amaze you, you don’t forget about the ballet. Maybe go, have a glass of wine, and see one for yourself.


Brain is Cobwebs.

Hello everybody!


So today after work, I spent exactly 2 hours wandering about both my home and my neighborhood, all while chatting with a friend of mine on the phone. Mother, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry about the phone bill and all. Anyway, after we caught up with each other, said friend, Emily, and I bounced some ideas around for the blog. Being a lucky dog who gets paid to edit content and churn out blog for a variety of companies, she’s a pretty good judge of what strikes a chord with all of you on the other end of this internet machine.

Meanwhile, like today’s title indicates, the interior of my brain is essentially a mass of cobwebs. If I could draw a crude depiction of what was in there now, I would go with one of those little blank faced emojis- you know, the kind with a hyphen for a mouth- and some generic, dust-covered linoleum tiling. I’m entirely stumped. Sure, I have some vague ideas of what I would like to write about, but nothing seems to stick around long enough to come to fruition.  Apparently, the summer seems to bring on a universal topic-drought for bloggers everywhere. It wasn’t until I came across Whitney’s post on I Wore Yoga Pants to Work that I felt comfortable sharing my recent ridiculous ideas, or lack thereof, with you:

There was a very large moth on my car the other day. So big it covered half my license plate…the end.

I live alone, and sometimes this leads to socially awkward behavior. Like spontaneous singing. Is it just me? 

When your boyfriend can’t dress himself, aka adventures in makeshift personal shopping. 

Weird dreams I’ve had over the last month. 

Maybe I’ll just do a collage of fancy coffee I drank this week? That’s a thing, right? 

 I suck at numbers so bad and I’m not sure how to manage my 401k. 

Dear God, I’m almost 27. Maybe I should post a list of things to do before I turn 30? Nevermind, too stressful. 

I took the Enneagram Personality Test yesterday. My results were absolutely accurate. This might actually have some potential- to be continued.

Odd rituals I find comforting in times of stress. This often involves TV Land reruns. Also, some potential here…


I haven’t taken a dance class in two weeks. I think I’m experiencing something akin to cabin-fever.  Rolling around on the ground is like dancing, right? 

I hope you find the idea of even beginning to write about these topics as amusing as I do. That moth, though. I literally had to stop myself from posting a photo of this thing for the last two Wednesdays’ blogs. Also, is blogging about blogging a faux pas? If it is, I’m horribly gauche.

I’m still totally surprised/amazed/so flattered that anyone actually reads my blog. I love you all for it, and it makes me absurdly happy. Thanks for reading.


A few thoughts…

Hello lovlies!

After a weekend of watching many fabulous reruns (I love “The Help”!) and taking it easy, I realized there were a few things in the back of my mind that were bothering me, and, inevitably, need to come to fruition on my blog. In the aforementioned movie, the advice given to a young writer is to write about topics that disturb her, particularly if they seem to disturb no one else.


During my travel adventures, I purchased a copy of one of my favorite magazines: Marie Claire. I have a US subscription, but hoped that for almost 10 New Zealand dollars, the Australian version would have great content warranting the high price. I was not disappointed.


The magazine itself contained a fantastic mix of fluff (beauty, wardrobe advice, summer hair) but also contained some of the most controversial and informative articles I have ever seen in a woman’s magazine. Relationship advice making a case for couples having separate bedrooms was one of the more lighthearted topics. Also discussed were child organ donation between war-torn countries, the survivors of the 2008 Mumbai terrorist attacks, and surgical innovations reversing the damage of female genital mutilation. Instead of redundant “What I like about Me” articles, there was a seemingly uncensored survey on how the world views Australians. Don’t get me wrong, I love the lighthearted, self-esteem building articles featured in the American magazines, but reading something that combined both lifestyle pieces and current events on a equal level was refreshing. I wasn’t frustrated with this disparity until I received the latest issue of American Marie Claire in the mail. About half-way through the magazine, I noticed a number of articles specifically targeting young, single women. Most of them were written in a tone of encouragement, empowerment, even. “Choose Your Own Adventure!” some of them said, “Meet the New Single Girl.” And then, at the far back, was a piece thrown in that looked liked this:

20 – the best biological age for getting pregnant

27- the average age of first marriage in the US. When female fertility starts to decline.

 31- the best age to have your first baby

35- the best age to be done having babies

34- the age at which women are happiest with their bodies

74- when women are happiest

Please note that these selections are entirely verbatim from Marie Claire, February 2014

The title for this listing was “Sorry, Wrong Number” and cited differing sources following each number listed. I love that you encourage female empowerment and slap these arbitrary numbers on the back of your magazine. I guess my fertility is declining right now and my “new” single self  has some thinking to do. I understand that this information was included within the magazine to provoke discussion, but I can’t help but be disturbed by their cavalier attitude, carrying on about how being single is no longer “a layover on the way to (…)partnered bliss”  right next to big, bold red numbers of what the average female life is decidedly like. Please also note that these numbers were printed next to advice from “The Text Whisperer,” explaining convoluted texts from the opposite sex. Because how else will I know that the guy I’m speaking to is a total jerk who objectifies me?  I call your bluff, Marie Claire. You highlight beautiful, strong, intelligent women in your magazine, and I think you did them a disservice by publishing this. It was inappropriate, especially after all your articles praising real women and their bravery and intelligence. If you thought more highly of your readers, you would have realized that we appreciate being viewed as more than just a statistic. We already know these numbers, and we’re discerning enough to know better.


Thoughts on a Sunday Afternoon


Happy Sunday everyone!

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about work. It’s a strange creature, really. Simply by labeling something as “work,” no matter what your profession, it automatically downgrades even the most fun task to something banal, mundane even. More on that later.

When I came to a point in my life where I felt  it was time to stop flitting about, taking dance classes, and pursuing more creative opportunities (read: being poor dancer), I managed to talk myself in to taking a job grossly out of my field. I struggled, and, admittedly cried the first two weeks straight. I was in a world of profit and productivity, and all I wanted to do was to write an eloquently worded email, hoping someone would notice that I was bright, trying my hardest to fall in line in some place I didn’t belong. I gave myself a year, and 11 months in, I had a meeting with a colleague I was working with at the time. He seemed off, but I brushed it off as overworked, just like the rest of us. It wasn’t until he started blurting overly personal information out at me for no reason that I became concerned. His kids didn’t know him. His wife hated him. He hated his life. I, in turn, told him a completely unrelated story of my good friend, who was unhappy at her job, subsequently quit, and traveled.  His involuntary candor unsettled me, but what unsettled me more was that I might be in his shoes one day, no matter where I worked. I left almost a month after that.

I learned so, so many things at my previous job. I’m proud and glad I did it. It’s given me a perspective that I wouldn’t otherwise have had. You could say this about all experiences, really, good or bad. This brings me back to what I wrote about in my previous post: choice. There is something so powerful in choosing how you let experiences affect you. When I wake up in the morning, I choose to be happy. I choose to be hopeful, and to see the possibilities for good in other people and situations, even when past experiences have taught me not to. There’s a great deal to be said about being able to decide how your day-to-day life goes, and to know that the world doesn’t owe you anything, and that that’s ok. I could go on and on about this, but I’m really just beginning to understand it myself. I also came across this earlier today:

As the description says, everyone needs to see this at least once. It’s especially useful for those hard days when everyone and everything is just plain awful/annoying/rude/hurtful/creepy/scary. So don’t just default, don’t sit around and let life happen to you. That’s just too easy.