because I didn't want to sweat.

{via flickr}

When I was a young child I declined to participate in strenuous athletic activity. Because I didn't want to sweat.
At least, that's what I've been told.

Perhaps I might have been a ballet prodigy. I guess we'll never know.

I have always loved watching ballet. Sleeping Beauty was one of my favorite movies and I thought the ballet was beautiful. Over the years my father and mother occasionally took me to see the ballet. Once I saw Cinderella, Madam Butterfly; I saw The Nutcracker many times. The strength and power and grace of the dancers was thrilling to me. They looked so beautiful! I loved going to the ballet and hearing the light tapping of the dancer's ballet shoes on the wooden stage flooring as they leapt and twirled. The women were slender, feminine and beautiful. The men were gracefully strong and sturdy, yet masculine (most of the time).
More recently I've been thinking about posture and grace in movement. Not just in dance, but in every day life. I read an article in Vogue (I love Vogue, as we've discussed. Oh, the photographs! The fashion!) about the importance of good posture. Not only for one's health, but a person's posture can say so much about them and how they want to be seen by others. As I've been looking through portraits on The Sartorialist blog, this has become even more clear to me.
As an example of what I mean:

{via The Sartorialist}

This woman is a burlesque dancer. Can't you tell?

On his blog, the photographer remarked that her "posture speaks volumes about who she is and how she wants to be perceived." 

I love that! And there's a small part of me that has always wanted to be a natural red head. And wear bright red lipstick. 

{via The Sartorialist}

That last picture was taken during the 1930s in Spain. Isn't she just so...European? People say it all the time, but it's interesting how clothing goes in and out of style. She looks like she's been shopping at Anthropologie!

But where was I?

Ballet.

I feel it must be said before I say anything further, I have little to no musicality. I have trouble keeping with the beat in songs, I look a little nutty when I dance (not like Elaine from Seinfield or anything), I think I'm slightly tone deaf. And my posture is not so good. About five years ago I started doing Pilates and in the last two years I've done Yoga off and on, and I think that has improved my posture somewhat. But it isn't stellar. And I wouldn't call any movement that I make graceful. I'm a little clumsy and heavy-footed.

In high school I joined the volleyball team. It was my first attempt at organized sports, and I did it because playing volleyball was popular. The first year I made the Junior Varsity team, which I felt was a major blow to my confidence. I was an athletic person, though I'll grant I was not very talented or coordinated. And the other girls on the JV team were just not...very...athletic. The Varsity girls were good. Everyone knew it.

JV was an afterthought.

I'll probably tell a story or two about high school volleyball some day, but my point in bringing it up today is this: I learned to sweat. Have you ever participated in a Summer Volleyball camp? I have still never been that sore in my life. We started early in the morning every day and sweated our way through four hours of intense training. And if you were late you ran laps...and some times the coach forgot about you and you spent two hours running laps. I don't want to talk about it.

So now, with my love of ballet and desire for graceful movement and good posture, along with my willingness to allow sweat to escape my epidermis, I am prepared to do something quite drastic.

I'm going to dance.

Well, perhaps that's a stretch.

I'm going to take a ballet class.

Normally I say I'm going to do these things and then put it off until finally I forget about it (I'm not the only one--once I got a "birthday present" from Daniel that was a promise to take dance lessons with me. It's been four years and I'm not holding my breath). But this time, I emailed Vicki at Ballet Austin and said: Teach me to dance like a Sugar Plum Fairy!

She said: sign up for a class and give us some money, you weirdo.

It was very inspiring.

But I haven't quite gotten to that step yet.

I was happy to learn from Vicki that they offer a "New Beginner" ballet class for adults. Part of me wants to go just to see the kind of people that are grasping hold of their dreams a little late in life like me. Part of me is completely intimidated by the idea of doing something I've never done before. Part of me is totally excited and can't wait to start. I've always wanted to say, "Sorry, I've got ballet class tonight. Rain check?" I've also always wanted to take part in a dramatic dance-off (Me and my posse can pirhouette you under the table, homey!).

That probably won't happen in beginner ballet (or..anywhere but Step It Up?). But I can dream.

I'm a big dreamer, guys.

I don't have any illusions of grandeur (it is illusions or delusions? Either way, I don't have them. Of grandeur.). I don't think I'll ever really be the Sugar Plum Fairy. Or even a mouse (a little ballet humor). I just want to dance. Is that so wrong?

P.S.

The cheesecake didn't taste like a disaster. It just looked like one.

Daniel: Uh, Honey? I think the cheesecake exploded?

I guess I'm no Pioneer Woman.

i guess i'm in the wrong line of work.

I just took a "Color Career Counselor" quiz. It was fun. And kind of hard for me, actually.
Here are my results:
Best Occupational Category

You're a CREATOR


Keywords


Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional


These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.


CREATOR OCCUPATIONS


Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.


CREATOR WORKPLACES


Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.


Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

Well, I'm definitely emotional. But in the most inappropriate ways. And I pretend that I'm not.

Daniel has never been fooled by this and it makes me crazy. He is sensitive to my emotions, though. Sometimes.

I like how under the "Creator Occupations" there are words like, director, designer, executive.
I day dream about being a writer. But mostly because I'm lazy. I walk into Once Over in the mornings and see people lined at the bar with their multi-colored Apple notebooks and I tell myself that they are freelance writers and have more fun than me.
When I was younger I thought I wanted to be an Editor. But I don't even know what that means. To me it means that I would be a picky reader with manuscripts being thrown at me all day long. I would drink more espresso and live in a trendy apartment with large windows and I'd take breaks from reading and editing to run on Town Lake in the middle of the day. I'd shop at Whole Foods and cook like a gourmet and drink red wine (blech) out of wide glasses with long stems.

What I really, really want to be is barefoot and pregnant. But I'll wear shoes when I'm a mommy and take my baby out in the jogging stroller. I refuse to be fat. Despite the fact that I chased my workout last night with a brownie...but I digress. Daniel likes this idea too. We are totally on the same page.
I'm working on it.
Although I think he wants me to be a famous blogger, too.
I'm working on that as well. As if you couldn't tell, my dear three readers.

Oh, dreams. It's good to dream.

Taking A Break.

Today on my lunch break I decided I needed to take a break (possibly permanent) from Facebook. I claimed it was for Lent. But it's not really.
However, it will be like fasting. Because I like Facebook in some ways! A LOT.
But the cons began to outweigh the pros.
I know this must all sound very ambiguous. Bottom line is: I feel really, really good about the decision.

I'm also hoping that I'll be spending more time here now that I have one less internet distraction.
I enjoy writing! And I love reading blogs. I really love reading blogs.

Life, since the beginning of the year, has "gotten in the way" of blogging. I've been struggling with low spirits due to a number of things, and when I'm low, I don't like to blog. Or write. Or be social. Or do anything really.

But God is good. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He is Truth "...and in His word do I hope." It is truly amazing to me when I recognize the times when God has shown Himself to me through people and situations. Times where a word or a gesture is so exactly what I needed at that moment or on that day.
It is so humbling to realize, sometimes much later, how tender His mercies are. I am overwhelmed to think of the great care He has taken to carry my burdens when they become too much for me. I have felt His comfort so near and so real, and my heart and faith are strengthened!

On another note, the weather here is amazing today.
Yesterday it SNOWED--which was odd. And today it is sunny and 60. Not a cloud in the sky.
I would like to be at Pedernales Falls today climbing around the rocks. But I need to be at work, making the big bucks and saving for someday. So here I am.

The Pioneer Woman

I tried to think of a clever title, but I couldn't. My brain isn't functioning right because I've been standing in heels in a 90 degree room with a bunch of pregnant women for 4 hours.
Why?

All because of this blog.A crowd begins to form...

Ree, The Pioneer Woman, stopped in Austin this evening for her The Pioneer Woman Cooks book tour, and I was totally there. Originally I had planned on going with friends...but they all bailed on me, so I had to face the dreadful, growing social anxiety building inside me and go it alone. I was determined to get my book signed.
My dear, amazing husband was kind and patient enough to show up at Austin's Book People at 3:30 in the afternoon to get me a wristband. He did so well that he even got me into the very exclusive, top secret six o'clock signing. Okay, so it wasn't that secret. But it was sort of exclusive. Only about 50 ladies got to go upstairs at 6 rather then 7 when the book-signing was scheduled.
I stood around looking at the kids' section for a long time, most of the time stressing about I don't know what. Butterflies I guess. And I was ALL ALONE.
But finally I decided to awkwardly start up conversation with an innocent bystander who was clinging, like me, for dear life to her precious cook book. I think I said something stupid like, "Here to get your book signed?"
Duh.
That's what her face said to me.

A few minutes later I was beckoned upstairs, with the 6:00 group, so I left her and made a new friend. She was originally from California, and is now a stay-at-home mom with her 7-month-old twins. A boy and a girl. And they were there! And terribly cute and well-behaved.
I was blabbing to her about goodness knows what. All I know is that some point I told her I was neurotic. And I don't even know what that means.

The 6 o'clock crew


I'm a stalker

Marlboro Man and the Punks bringing in the t-shirts - or - more stalker pictures

PW

There was also another little girl (about 3? or 7? I can never tell) in front of me named Abigail. At first I think she didn't like me because she would kick me, laugh, and then run away. But after a few minutes she started hugging me and wouldn't let go. I tried to act sweet and natural. I continued to try and act sweet and natural when she started crawling on the floor and stuck her head in between my knees. And stayed there. She told me she was pretending to be a squirrel.

Once we actually got into the room, where I was standing in line about 20 feet in front of PW, Abigail's attachment to me continued to grow. She started running across the room and then running at me full speed until she crashed into me with her full body weight.
Adorable, right?

Finally she got distracted when she noticed that rubbing her head on the carpet made her hair stick up. So she started rubbing her head on the floor. And that was the end of our tumultuous relationship.

This is where Abigail rubbed her head.

If I weren't camera-shy in reverse, I might have documented this in photos. But I simply did not. Also, I was being physically assaulted by a really adorable three year old.
Right about the time Abigail learned how to create static-electricity, it was my turn to meet Ree. And so I did. And we made up a secret handshake and became best friends forever and then she asked me to come live at the lodge.
Actually...
I gave her a small gift of my favorite beauty products, since I work for a beauty supply distributor. I started to tell her this, but my speech started slurring (nervous much?) so I stuck with, "Hi" and "Thanks" and finally, "Bye."

Ree, me, and my lipless smile that I've had to embrace. Because God made me that way.

Her sister Betsy was there, looking trim and cute. She gave me a t-shirt. I'll love her forever because she told me the shirt sizes ran very small, held up the smallest size, and said, "This will definitely fit you."

That's Betsy in the gray shirt.

Thanks, Betsy.
I hope the shirt fits.

After that it was time to return downstairs and wait for Ree's Q&A. The crowd had grown enormous, so I got stuck standing behind a bookshelf in front of these two charming ladies:

They told me they were trying to look stupid--in hopes that Ree would put up a picture of them on her blog. I told them I'd put them on my blog, but they didn't seem too impressed. Even when I told them my mom reads it.
I don't think they look stupid. Well. Maybe. A little.
Plus, they turned out to be friends with benefits because they let me stand up on their stools and take pictures of Ree. And this guy...

He wanted us to cheer for Ree because she's a rock star. So we did.
And, after yelling, "FOUR SECONDS!" she floated gracefully down the stairs.

Then she apologized for the 4-second delay. She had to pee.
And then she opened the floor for questions. She was gracious and funny and kind.

Ree speaking; her family to the right on the stairs.

After that I headed home with my loot: a signed book and a really cute t-shirt. I had a wonderful time!!

www.thepioneerwoman.com

I'm Blogging?

I suppose it's been long enough. I've been so busy you know, with the stuff of life. Work, basically. And a wedding here and there.
This evening Daniel and I sat on stone benches in front of the Cafe Medici drinking a Toddy SS and brainstorming for a speech that he'll be delivering to a crowd at a Texas Tea Party Rally on Independence Day. I don't like giving speeches, let alone standing up in front of a crowd. I think I've said before it makes my palms sweat and my neck gets splotchy and I get cotton-mouth. But I can write a speech. I think.
In high school I was chosen to participate in a speech meet and the topic I chose was abortion. You know, I like to keep things neutral, non-polarizing.
Three days before speech meet I had to present my speech, completed, to the Rhetoric class and after 4 excruciating minutes Mrs. Brunson asked me to sit down. After class she told me she thought, from a competitive stand point, that I was going to fail miserably and embarrass the school unless by some act of God I got my crap together before Saturday morning (perhaps not in so many words).
Well, that evening I went home, wrote out a speech based on my index cards, stood in my closet, and read my speech to myself ten times before setting it aside.
Apparently those readings committed the speech to my memory it because I recited it to judges, competitors, and other students word-for-word on Saturday morning without even glancing at my note cards. And apparently it was a good speech because the crowd was nearly in tears by the end of the speech and I won the gold medal. I think I told some gut-wrenching story about a girl sitting in a clinic. Juno totally ripped me off.
Unfortunately Mrs. Brunson wasn't there to hear it. I think she was watching some team present a puppet show or some kid recite a humorous monologue. She was very surprised to see me win and she didn't conceal her surprise at all.
It must have been adrenaline.
I hate public speaking.
All that to say is: I could never, would never do what Daniel is doing on Saturday. When I think about it, it makes me want to vomit. I'd rather vomit than give a speech.

In other news...I am blessed. I got to see my parents and brothers last month and they were able to stay with me at my own house! Daniel and I loved having a house full of family. Hopefully we'll be able to return the gesture someday soon.
I was in the wedding of a great friend last weekend. It is good to be confident that a friend is marrying a good man.
I wore a yellow dress and about ten minutes before the ceremony I ripped a hole in the front of it with my pointy shoe heel. That was kind of awful but I don't think anyone noticed because Courtney and Ryan were so stunning.
One moment framed in my mind: walking a crosswalk on Guadalupe with the wedding party, all dressed in our yellow gowns, holding Courtney's train to keep it from dragging on the street.
It was a lovely wedding :)
Well. That's all for now.

More From Annie Dillard...and a Momentous Occasion

"The printed word cannot compete with the movies on their ground, and should not. You can describe beautiful faces, car chases, or valleys full of Indians on horseback until you run out of words, and you will not approach the movies' spectacle. Novels written with film contracts in mind have a faint but unmistakable, and ruinous, odor...

"Why would anyone read a book instead of watching big people move on a screen? Because a book can be literature. It is a subtle thing--a poor thing, but our own. In my view, the more literary the book--the more purely verbal, crafted sentence by sentence, the more imaginative, reasoned, and deep--the more likely people are to read it. The people who read are the people who like literature, after all, whatever that might be. They like, or require, what books alone have. If they want to see films that evening, they will find films. If they do not like to read, they will not. People who read are not too lazy to flip on the television; they prefer books. I cannot imagine a sorrier pursuit than struggling for years to write a book that attempts to appeal to people who do not read in the first place."

I just noticed that this will be the 104th posting on my blog. I passed 100 with out even noticing!

People, this is a big deal for me. This is my most successful attempt at blogging ever.

It has caused me to reflect on my past blogging experiences. I started on Xanga.com. The website that, when I hear or see it's name, I now turn up my nose. It was never as good to me as blogspot has been. I can't say that I'm particularly impressed with blogspot's templates, and I know I could set out and create my own. But I am just not that html-savvy. I can only grasp the simplest of actions, like bolding and italicizing and underlining words. I've even been known to change my font and the color of my font, but I've long since forgotten how to do that.

Back in my xanga days I had a few friends who journaled on there. It was quite the fad. But, because we were young and didn't realize we had more important things to worry about, xanga just caused drama.

Actually, one girl in particular caused drama with her online writing. In fact, though I'm not really friends with her anymore, that girl is still trying to cause drama with her online writing on Myspace and Facebook. She used to (and still does) write ugly things about people, acting as if those people wouldn't realize who she was writing about. But she ran into a little trouble (and still does), it was blatantly obvious exactly who she's viciously libelling. Is libelling a verb? Is the phrase viciously libelling redundant? I think so. But there it is. That's who I am.

Anyhow, there was this ridiculously huge falling out that particular time she chose to be catty. I think pretty much the only people reading her blog were the ones she was saying bad things about...so it didn't go over well...

Oh yeah, I was one of the people she didn't like (I learned after reading her blog...?).

She should star in one of those "stop online bullying" commercials. As the villain.

But after that I was totally, like, I'm so over that. And there was just a bad taste in my mouth about the whole blogging thing.

I've made a few more failing attempts since then. Most of the time I would start a blog, never tell anyone about it, and then give up on it. But since no one knew about it, it didn't make much of a difference.

And here I am today, writing on my blog and really enjoying it. It gives me a dumb excuse to write, which I enjoy. And I've actually spread the word a little, started lurking and even commenting on other blogs, and even inspired a couple of friends to join the blogging world (so I'm spawning my own commentors, see?).

All that random nonsense is leading to this (I'll pause while you sigh with relief):

Thanks for reading and commenting. While blogging in itself seems self-centered and vain-glorious (I just wanted to use that hyphenated word...), the fact that people are actually reading this makes it so much more worth while. And it makes me feel that maybe, just maybe, I might be a little less nerdy than I thought. Maybe even "cool."

Well, I wouldn't go that far. But it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Keep talkin' to me!

The Writing Life

"The line of words is a hammer. You hammer against the walls of your house. You tap the walls, lightly, everywhere. After giving many years' attention to these things, you know what to listen for. Some of the walls are bearing walls; they have to stay, or everything will fall down. Other walls can go without impunity; you can hear the difference. Unfortunately, it is often a bearing wall that has to go. It cannot be helped. There is only one solution, which appalls you, but there it is. Knock it out. Duck."

I'm reading The Writing Life by Annie Dillard.

I've never been a "writer" but I enjoy writing. Even though my writing is a jumbled, confused mess of strange thoughts you wish you never knew, I still really enjoy doing it. When I was younger, probably fourteen or fifteen, a couple of times I set to writing some sort of story. I actually sat down to write over a period of several days, perhaps even more than a week. But eventually I got tired of my project and gave it up without a second thought.

As I've been reading Dillard's book, I've been thinking more about the writing process. She says, "Writing a book, full time, takes between two and ten years." Two and ten years! I can't imagine my brain being able to carry on that long, or just flat out having the focus or inspiration to continue writing. Can you imagine writing a story for eight years? I would love it if I could do that. The final product must feel like such an accomplishment. And on top of that, writing something successful that others enjoy reading would be really amazing.

So.

I want to write.

And reading Annie Dillard's The Writing Life has given me a different perspective on the process. It sounds like it might even be a torturous, painful process at times. But I want to do it!

When I was in high school I wrote an essay about a time I saw a baby owl in the desert when I was young. After reading it, my American Literature teacher Mrs. Jackson told me my writing reminded her of Annie Dillard.

I'd say that's a fair review!

Too bad I've forgotten everything I've learned...EXCEPT: forbidden words and sentence openers.