We finally got internet again! Yay!!! And I now have wireless, so I am back to using my own computer!! I suppose that means I'll get back to posting pics too. . . . Eventually.
Not that much has changed, just little stuff going on. I am tired of my homework, but still plugging away. I just sent off my Graduation Requirement Check (only 6 months late) so hopefully that will go well. Working on getting dance routines for my middle schoolers and getting them ready for competition. And seriously wondering if FDP is ever going to make a serious move. Sometimes I just want to shake him and ask if he has any idea what our relationship really looks like. Because what it looks like and what he says it is are two totally different things. Two of his other dance partners have talked to me and asked why we weren't dating, girls who I really only have contact with through him. And not in the, "I want to see if I can date him if you're not" way, but the, "you guys are best friends, why is there nothing going on?" way. Our relationship is always hard to read, because such small things happen, I'm not sure if I should count it as moving forward, or just leave it because they are so small, does he even realize its different? But I'd like to think we're making marginal progress.
Anyway, obviously I think about it a lot. The good news is, I know he overanalyzes things too. So its not just me.
Showing posts with label Dancing again. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dancing again. Show all posts
Friday, November 6, 2009
Monday, July 13, 2009
Metatarsalgia
This is what I have right now. It pretty much means my foot hurts, specifically in the ball of the foot, second toe. It is caused by several different things. Being on your feet a lot, running/walking, athletic shoes with little support (ie. dance shoes), ill fitting shoes, high heels and being overweight. The only one of those that I can't claim is being overweight. The treatment is rest, ice, IBuProfin and getting insoles. After that, I'll have to go to the doctor and maybe get specialized shoes. I'm hoping the ice and rest works. I do not like the idea of staying off my feet. Pretty much because it means I can't do anything. Lame!!
Foot pain is lame!! hee hee.
Here's hoping I feel better soon.
Foot pain is lame!! hee hee.
Here's hoping I feel better soon.
Monday, March 30, 2009
You know you're a BYU Ballroom Dancer if . . .
(Standard)
. . . your head feels more comfortable positioned out and slightly to the left.
. . . you’ve ever heard Betsy say, “reach for the chocolate!”
. . . you have to sleep on your stomach with your head facing right just to make sure you don’t get lopsided.
. . . you’ve ever danced using a Cougar Eat tray as a frame aid.
. . . Kyrstin has made you do at least three different types of sit ups for no apparent reason. (Don't worry, you'll figure out what they're for later)
. . . your angry face is now your “Tango” face
. . . you’ve ever heard the Christmas tree analogy for correct framework in dance position.
. . . it feels weird NOT to have someone attached to your right rib.
. . . you've become very aware of which parts of your feet you use: ball, heel, toe, inside edge of the foot, etc.
. . . people sometimes confuse you for a business student.
. . . you know body flight has nothing to do with hopping and flapping your arms.
. . . it sometimes feels like your shoulders have fused to your torso.
. . . you can rotated you’re upper body to obscene angles and doing so feels completely natural.
. . . you not only know the difference between CBM and CBMP, you know exactly what the acronyms stand for.
. . . you know that you can't just waltz your way into heaven. Viennese is the required dance.
. . . you've spent entire class sessions just on shaping.
. . . You've gotten used to stopping at random and uncomfortable positions so that the professor can check your framework, but you've never really learned how to start back up again without any momentum.
. . . you think Lee is so relaxed he's practically horizontal.
. . . (men) you can't remember the last time you wore a T-shirt on a week day, and you constantly carry a tie in your bag, just in case.
. . . you know there's nothing hotter than a man in a tail suit. (in more ways than one)
(American)
. . . straightening your legs completely is heresy.
. . . your angry face is now your “Tango” face.
. . . slouching is now uncomfortable under most circumstances.
. . . the word “routine” is almost completely foreign to you.
. . . you’ve seriously considered seeing your doctor for whiplash after dancing a particularly energetic tango.
. . . people are convinced your legs and hips are made out of rubber when you dance the Cha Cha.
. . . you show 180 students how to do cuban action by pointing to the calluses on your feet.
. . . you’ve stolen at least three or four elements from standard or latin dancing and incorporated it into your dancing style.
. . . you know how to do body rolls and you’re not afraid to use them!
. . . you can’t remember the last time you did a box step in anything.
. . . you know about sway but you never really use it.
. . . the level of coolness for a variation is directly proportional to how insane you have to be in order to attempt it.
. . . the term MAC is not just a reference to an awesome computer.
. . . you either avoid blues swing like the plague or it has become one of your guilty pleasures.
. . . you are obsessed with West Coast Swing or Lindy Hop.
. . . you have no discernible sense of shame.
(Latin)
. . . you point your toes at the slightest provocation.
. . . you feet bend in ways they were never meant to bend in originally.
. . . your Rumba walk and your normal walk are practically indistinguishable.
. . . the junk in your trunk has a mind of its own.
. . . everything comes out sultry even when you don’t mean it to be.
. . . your angry face is now your “Paso” face.
. . . you’ve become accustomed to hearing Brent shout “Go Cougars!” at random intervals.
. . . you associate a cell phone ringing with the phrases “chocolate chip, extra salt, under baked."
. . . you know that the Rumba is the dance of love, and sometimes love hurts.
. . . you count to four by starting on two and ending on one.
. . . you consistently get more action on the dance floor than the rest of your private life combined.
. . . (ladies) you’re absolutely horrified that Brent can dance your part better than you can.
. . . (ladies) your convinces that the dresses some professionals wear are held up solely by super glue and fate.
. . . (ladies) you go through heel caps like candy.
. . . (ladies) you know Brent's exact procedure for slicking your bun so that other dancers could use it as a mirror.
. . . (men) you constantly have to imagine that you’re not a white guy.
. . . (men) you can move your hips better than most non-dancer ladies.
. . . (men) you know that according to Brent, Slavik is the quintessential example of how Latin men should move.
. . . (men) you've ever participated in a competition where ties are absolutely forbidden and the first three buttons on your shirt are considered optional.
. . . (men) you can wear pastels, spangles, sequins, and rhinestones AND still feel like a man.
. . . (men) you not only empathize with but in fact share some women's feelings and experiences regarding high heels.
. . . sickling your feet is punishable by death.
(General)
. . . you're easily identified at great distances by the little black bag.
. . . you address all ballroom professors by their first name and know exactly what their preferred dance style is.
. . . you know there is a HUGE difference between an 89 and a 90 on test scores.
. . . you have absolutely no issues with personal space.
. . . the only way someone could invade your personal bubble is if they stabbed your with something.
. . . you have at least one or two scars from incidents where you and a woman in heels disagreed on certain subtle points of floor craft.
. . . ballroom dance IS your social life, and non dancers have a difficult time grasping this concept.
. . . the first day of class you know the difference between a standard shoe and a latin shoe.
. . . you’ve gone through your entire iTunes library looking for danceable music.
. . . you know what dance would fit to a song before you even know the name of the song.
. . . your feet have molded to fit your dance shoes.
. . . you physically cringe at the prospect of searching for a new competition partner.
. . . you know that dance labs are for practicing floor craft, not traveling.
. . . you wish the slow pokes would stay on the inside like they're supposed to.
. . . you can beat most cars in your commute from the RB to the Wilk.
. . . you schedule coaching sessions or practice times when any sane individual would be asleep.
. . . you've lost track of the number of times you've taken your pants off in public. Usually you either had latin pants underneath or a dance skirt over the top, but that's beside the point.
. . . (ladies) you’ve purchased five bottles of hair spray just for Dancesport.
. . . round is not a shape and heat has nothing to do with temperature.
. . . (ladies) you own at least 15 pairs of beige, toast, or caramel fishnets.
. . . (ladies) walking around campus with your hair in a bun, wearing a latin or standard skirt, sandals, and a jacket is a perfectly acceptable fashion statement.
. . . (men) at a dance you select partners based on the type of shoes they're wearing. Sandals / open heeled shoes = No thank you. Standard shoes / Latin Sandals = Yes, please. Worn character shoes = Oh baby, oh baby!!!
. . . you gauge the amount of fun you had at a dance by the number of sore muscle groups or numb toes you have the next day.
. . . you have two performance wardrobes: one thats completely devoid of sequins, rhinestones, feathers, or shear fabric; and the real one.
. . . you idolize people with really weird and outlandish names.
. . . you go through at least three bottles of home tanner before a competition.
. . . unlike people who gain their knowledge of dancing from reality TV, you actually know the differences between Standard, Latin, and American.
. . . the last time you did something incredibly damaging to your personal reputation your explanation included the phrase, "I'm a ballroom dancer!"
. . . you own at least one pair of shoes that look like they've been at the dangerous end of a firing range.
. . . you don't do your laundry as much as normal people, because you have to wear the same pants/skirt tomorrow anyway.
. . . you've ever used your shoe bag as a makeshift towel.
. . . you practically live in the RB. That includes everything from shaving, showering, and brushing your teeth to doing makeup and hair with the full length mirrors on the ballroom walls (if you happen to be a lady). The only thing you haven't done is stashed a bed somewhere.
. . . you honestly can't name a public area of the RB or Wilk you haven't taken a nap in. (excluding the rest rooms, because that's just nasty)
. . . you eat more food from the RB vending machines than at home.
. . . you only watch "dancing with the stars" or "So you think you can dance" because you're hoping to come across a few interesting variations you might be able to steal.
. . . everything you own smells like feet. EVERYTHING!
. . . you've had a sudden and disconcerting realization that thinking only gets you into trouble.
. . . the rest of the world is dead to you during the weekend of Dance Sport.
. . . you associate the term "medals" with long hours of practice, sweat, blood, tears, and a feeling of unnamed dread.
. . . it hurts to watch the 100 level students.
No matter how many times I read this, it still makes me laugh.
. . . your head feels more comfortable positioned out and slightly to the left.
. . . you’ve ever heard Betsy say, “reach for the chocolate!”
. . . you have to sleep on your stomach with your head facing right just to make sure you don’t get lopsided.
. . . you’ve ever danced using a Cougar Eat tray as a frame aid.
. . . Kyrstin has made you do at least three different types of sit ups for no apparent reason. (Don't worry, you'll figure out what they're for later)
. . . your angry face is now your “Tango” face
. . . you’ve ever heard the Christmas tree analogy for correct framework in dance position.
. . . it feels weird NOT to have someone attached to your right rib.
. . . you've become very aware of which parts of your feet you use: ball, heel, toe, inside edge of the foot, etc.
. . . people sometimes confuse you for a business student.
. . . you know body flight has nothing to do with hopping and flapping your arms.
. . . it sometimes feels like your shoulders have fused to your torso.
. . . you can rotated you’re upper body to obscene angles and doing so feels completely natural.
. . . you not only know the difference between CBM and CBMP, you know exactly what the acronyms stand for.
. . . you know that you can't just waltz your way into heaven. Viennese is the required dance.
. . . you've spent entire class sessions just on shaping.
. . . You've gotten used to stopping at random and uncomfortable positions so that the professor can check your framework, but you've never really learned how to start back up again without any momentum.
. . . you think Lee is so relaxed he's practically horizontal.
. . . (men) you can't remember the last time you wore a T-shirt on a week day, and you constantly carry a tie in your bag, just in case.
. . . you know there's nothing hotter than a man in a tail suit. (in more ways than one)
(American)
. . . straightening your legs completely is heresy.
. . . your angry face is now your “Tango” face.
. . . slouching is now uncomfortable under most circumstances.
. . . the word “routine” is almost completely foreign to you.
. . . you’ve seriously considered seeing your doctor for whiplash after dancing a particularly energetic tango.
. . . people are convinced your legs and hips are made out of rubber when you dance the Cha Cha.
. . . you show 180 students how to do cuban action by pointing to the calluses on your feet.
. . . you’ve stolen at least three or four elements from standard or latin dancing and incorporated it into your dancing style.
. . . you know how to do body rolls and you’re not afraid to use them!
. . . you can’t remember the last time you did a box step in anything.
. . . you know about sway but you never really use it.
. . . the level of coolness for a variation is directly proportional to how insane you have to be in order to attempt it.
. . . the term MAC is not just a reference to an awesome computer.
. . . you either avoid blues swing like the plague or it has become one of your guilty pleasures.
. . . you are obsessed with West Coast Swing or Lindy Hop.
. . . you have no discernible sense of shame.
(Latin)
. . . you point your toes at the slightest provocation.
. . . you feet bend in ways they were never meant to bend in originally.
. . . your Rumba walk and your normal walk are practically indistinguishable.
. . . the junk in your trunk has a mind of its own.
. . . everything comes out sultry even when you don’t mean it to be.
. . . your angry face is now your “Paso” face.
. . . you’ve become accustomed to hearing Brent shout “Go Cougars!” at random intervals.
. . . you associate a cell phone ringing with the phrases “chocolate chip, extra salt, under baked."
. . . you know that the Rumba is the dance of love, and sometimes love hurts.
. . . you count to four by starting on two and ending on one.
. . . you consistently get more action on the dance floor than the rest of your private life combined.
. . . (ladies) you’re absolutely horrified that Brent can dance your part better than you can.
. . . (ladies) your convinces that the dresses some professionals wear are held up solely by super glue and fate.
. . . (ladies) you go through heel caps like candy.
. . . (ladies) you know Brent's exact procedure for slicking your bun so that other dancers could use it as a mirror.
. . . (men) you constantly have to imagine that you’re not a white guy.
. . . (men) you can move your hips better than most non-dancer ladies.
. . . (men) you know that according to Brent, Slavik is the quintessential example of how Latin men should move.
. . . (men) you've ever participated in a competition where ties are absolutely forbidden and the first three buttons on your shirt are considered optional.
. . . (men) you can wear pastels, spangles, sequins, and rhinestones AND still feel like a man.
. . . (men) you not only empathize with but in fact share some women's feelings and experiences regarding high heels.
. . . sickling your feet is punishable by death.
(General)
. . . you're easily identified at great distances by the little black bag.
. . . you address all ballroom professors by their first name and know exactly what their preferred dance style is.
. . . you know there is a HUGE difference between an 89 and a 90 on test scores.
. . . you have absolutely no issues with personal space.
. . . the only way someone could invade your personal bubble is if they stabbed your with something.
. . . you have at least one or two scars from incidents where you and a woman in heels disagreed on certain subtle points of floor craft.
. . . ballroom dance IS your social life, and non dancers have a difficult time grasping this concept.
. . . the first day of class you know the difference between a standard shoe and a latin shoe.
. . . you’ve gone through your entire iTunes library looking for danceable music.
. . . you know what dance would fit to a song before you even know the name of the song.
. . . your feet have molded to fit your dance shoes.
. . . you physically cringe at the prospect of searching for a new competition partner.
. . . you know that dance labs are for practicing floor craft, not traveling.
. . . you wish the slow pokes would stay on the inside like they're supposed to.
. . . you can beat most cars in your commute from the RB to the Wilk.
. . . you schedule coaching sessions or practice times when any sane individual would be asleep.
. . . you've lost track of the number of times you've taken your pants off in public. Usually you either had latin pants underneath or a dance skirt over the top, but that's beside the point.
. . . (ladies) you’ve purchased five bottles of hair spray just for Dancesport.
. . . round is not a shape and heat has nothing to do with temperature.
. . . (ladies) you own at least 15 pairs of beige, toast, or caramel fishnets.
. . . (ladies) walking around campus with your hair in a bun, wearing a latin or standard skirt, sandals, and a jacket is a perfectly acceptable fashion statement.
. . . (men) at a dance you select partners based on the type of shoes they're wearing. Sandals / open heeled shoes = No thank you. Standard shoes / Latin Sandals = Yes, please. Worn character shoes = Oh baby, oh baby!!!
. . . you gauge the amount of fun you had at a dance by the number of sore muscle groups or numb toes you have the next day.
. . . you have two performance wardrobes: one thats completely devoid of sequins, rhinestones, feathers, or shear fabric; and the real one.
. . . you idolize people with really weird and outlandish names.
. . . you go through at least three bottles of home tanner before a competition.
. . . unlike people who gain their knowledge of dancing from reality TV, you actually know the differences between Standard, Latin, and American.
. . . the last time you did something incredibly damaging to your personal reputation your explanation included the phrase, "I'm a ballroom dancer!"
. . . you own at least one pair of shoes that look like they've been at the dangerous end of a firing range.
. . . you don't do your laundry as much as normal people, because you have to wear the same pants/skirt tomorrow anyway.
. . . you've ever used your shoe bag as a makeshift towel.
. . . you practically live in the RB. That includes everything from shaving, showering, and brushing your teeth to doing makeup and hair with the full length mirrors on the ballroom walls (if you happen to be a lady). The only thing you haven't done is stashed a bed somewhere.
. . . you honestly can't name a public area of the RB or Wilk you haven't taken a nap in. (excluding the rest rooms, because that's just nasty)
. . . you eat more food from the RB vending machines than at home.
. . . you only watch "dancing with the stars" or "So you think you can dance" because you're hoping to come across a few interesting variations you might be able to steal.
. . . everything you own smells like feet. EVERYTHING!
. . . you've had a sudden and disconcerting realization that thinking only gets you into trouble.
. . . the rest of the world is dead to you during the weekend of Dance Sport.
. . . you associate the term "medals" with long hours of practice, sweat, blood, tears, and a feeling of unnamed dread.
. . . it hurts to watch the 100 level students.
No matter how many times I read this, it still makes me laugh.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Dance Camp
Ah the joys of selling shoes at Dance Camp. All the crazy old people who want shoes we don't carry. That think that we are more like a department store than a specialized shop run by the owner. I don't think they realize that the owner of the store is the one who runs it, or if they do, they expect me (not the owner) to know everything about every shoe. Well, I can understand why they want that, but it is interesting the reactions I get from some of them.
The fun part is seeing people I know and talking to them. Mostly these are the TA's, but some of the campers have been coming since I was starting out in the program.
I just wish someone would buy the costume I have for sale. Sadly, no one wants a yellow latin dress with red lace.
The fun part is seeing people I know and talking to them. Mostly these are the TA's, but some of the campers have been coming since I was starting out in the program.
I just wish someone would buy the costume I have for sale. Sadly, no one wants a yellow latin dress with red lace.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Viva Las Vegas!!
My last vacation of the summer. Because school starts . . . TOMORROW! Truthfully, I am very grateful to be home. I feel like I have been gone so much, I am very out of sorts. But, it was great fun!! First we drove down to LA (my dance partner and I). We went to the beach, where we saw a seal!! He couldn't have been more than thirty feet away from us. From there we met up with my sister and her boyfriend (can't wait to see where that goes!) and had dinner. Pizza on Sunset Boulevard (after spending an hour driving Hollywood Blvd, Sunset Blvd and Santa Monica Blvd looking for a parking place. And seeing Sunset and Camden and singing it just like Debbie Reynolds. My partner didn't get it) Then we saw Wicked. Fantastic! Amazing! Loved it! So much better live! And we were in the seventh row!! Orchestra! Got to see everything. Amazing. Did I say that already? 'Cause it was!
Anyway, moving on. The next day we drove to Vegas and competed. That was really fun. There was a first round in Pre-Champ, which makes it quite a large event. I think we would have made the final if I hadn't been off-rhythm in the cha-cha. Totatlly sucks. Didn't like the DJ, it sounded as if the music started partway through the song. None of the judges called us back for the cha-cha in the semi and only one or two called us back for the other dances. That's what happens when the judges all watch you first and you start off rythym. But it was fun, I always enjoy dancing. The next day we went to the Cheesecake Factory, which quite possibly might be my favorite restaurant, and had dinner. We competed Amateur, but didn't get called back. Didn't expect to. This event only had a semi final, but there were many good dancers. Watching the Pro events was so much fun. My friend Jeremy competed there and did quite well and the standard event had an excellent level of talent.
Well, that was probably more on dance than you wanted to hear, but now I'm back! And probably won't be going on vacation for a while, considering school is starting. I sure had a busy summer!
Anyway, moving on. The next day we drove to Vegas and competed. That was really fun. There was a first round in Pre-Champ, which makes it quite a large event. I think we would have made the final if I hadn't been off-rhythm in the cha-cha. Totatlly sucks. Didn't like the DJ, it sounded as if the music started partway through the song. None of the judges called us back for the cha-cha in the semi and only one or two called us back for the other dances. That's what happens when the judges all watch you first and you start off rythym. But it was fun, I always enjoy dancing. The next day we went to the Cheesecake Factory, which quite possibly might be my favorite restaurant, and had dinner. We competed Amateur, but didn't get called back. Didn't expect to. This event only had a semi final, but there were many good dancers. Watching the Pro events was so much fun. My friend Jeremy competed there and did quite well and the standard event had an excellent level of talent.
Well, that was probably more on dance than you wanted to hear, but now I'm back! And probably won't be going on vacation for a while, considering school is starting. I sure had a busy summer!
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