Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Burlesque & Boobs

I'm a fairly confident kinda gal. I'm not at all shy and not much makes me uncomfortable.  There is one thing that makes me more self conscious and makes me want to run screaming more than any other and if you ask it of me, I will decline you every single time.
I do not dance. The thought of dancing stresses me out and gives me knots in my stomach.

My mother was a dancer her whole life. For 60 plus years she danced ballet, tap, jazz, modern. She was as beautiful and graceful as they come. As a little girl, my sister and I spent countless hours in dance studio dressing rooms peeking in watching her do bar work or floor work. She always took my breath away. The happiness was so visible in her when she danced.

My sister took to it like a fish to water. She was on point at a young age and was just as graceful as my mother. She was accepted to LaGuardia High School as part of their dance department in 8th grade.
You know LaGuardia. Yeah, you do. It's the school the movie "Fame" was based off of.

She eventually switched to their Drama department but she is still as graceful and beautiful when she dances just like my mother.

Me, not so much. Since I'm adopted, I didn't inherit the lithe graceful genes. I tried. Lordy did I try. I took ballet and modern from a very young age and it never felt right to me. I always felt awkward and like a total fraud. I kept going to the classes till one day I must have been about 8 maybe a little younger we were doing run run leaps across the floor and I remember in the middle of one less than pretty run run right before the leap I thought,


"GOD. I HATE THIS"

I was afraid telling my mother would upset her but I knew I couldn't do this for one more class. I'm not sure if my mother knew all along dance wasn't for me and wasn't my thing but I don't recall her being angry or upset at my admission that I hated dancing and never wanted to put on a tutu or dance shoes again ever in my entire life.

I've kept pretty true to my word. You won't find me out on the dance floor ever, anywhere and you will never hear me ask to go dancing every, anywhere. 

As a 38 year old (39 in 2 months) mother I've decided that I'm going to make 2012 the year I do things I never thought I would do.

Dancing is on that list. Not ballet or tap or modern or jazz. None of those will ever feel comfortable to me.
Nope, I need something with a little bit more sass, something that allows me to work with what I've been given and not feel like I'm alone in a room of graceful, thin princesses.

I wanna go and take a burlesque class!!! Seriously. Stop laughing! I'm not kidding!! I wanna wear pasties with tassles!
More than that though, I want to get rid of the fear I have of settings like this one:


The thought of being in a dance studio with other women to whom sexy and graceful come natural gives me a serious panic attack.
The thought of them watching me and making it look so easy and potentially making a total ass out of my self as I bumble and stumble through the class causes me shortness of breath.

That is EXACTLY why I need to take this class. I need to figure out why the thought of a class makes my skin crawl but the thought of performing excites me.

I need to dispose of my self imposed stick up my ass and just take a deep breath and go and have a good time!

I will be attempting to recruit some of my gal pals to come with me and give me some of the courage I need to make this happen:

Friday, November 18, 2011

RHPS

Ya know what I love about the Internet? It often has a really cool snowball effect and can take you to places and conjure up memories long since locked away.

YouTube is the catalyst for me tonight. I'll often go hunting on there for old school glam videos to remind me of my past but tonight it started with Kiss videos from the 80's and went off from there. I found myself looking for memories of my time with the NYC 8th Street Playhouse Rocky Horror cast.

 We were about 13 when we became part of the crew. Only Chrissy became an official cast member, playing Columbia every Friday and Saturday night. When I ran across this video it shot me back to such a specific time that I had visions of clothing I owned but had forgotten about, about moments, feelings and people who were such an important time in my life back then.

Funny how one clip can do all that to you.







There really are no words to describe how proud I am.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Jennifer is a Party Pooper

This has nothing to do with anything but it make me cackle...