Daring to Dance in the Early Days

Today’s Daily Prompt: What are your earliest and fondest memories of dance?

As a dancer, I could not ignore this prompt. Dancing is one of my passions and my life wouldn’t be the same without it. Nowadays, I dance in a company and am a dance minor. I do jazz, tap, ballet, pointe, hip hop, and little of some other styles, but it wasn’t always that way. I definitely did not grow up in a studio like some dancers. In fact, I didn’t even start studio dancing until high school. When I was little, I was a tomboy. The last thing I wanted to be was a ballerina.

But when it comes to my passion for dance, I guess I have my mom to thank, even though I’ve never really thought that until now. There was a time in my life when it was just Mom, Leeah, and I. My mom was single, working two jobs, raising two daughters, and life was just busy. The three of us used to get up at about 4 a.m. so that my mom could take my sister and I to the babysitter before she had to be to work at 5. Sometimes, I would sleep on the way to the sitter, but mostly I remember singing… and dancing.

At that time, and still today, our little family had a deep love for country music. It pretty much ran in our veins. At the time, “Two Pina Coladas” by Garth Brooks was a popular hit on the radio. (That was 1997. I was about 4.) My mom taught my sister and I these hand motions to go along with the song (I still remember them today), so every time the song came on the radio, Leeah and I would excitedly do the hand motions in our seats.

When I got a little older, I graduated from hand motions to all out dancing at wedding receptions. I remember going to about 3 or 4 wedding receptions as a child. I was a shy little kid. I blushed anytime someone would talk to me, but I grew up in a little family of extroverts. My mom and sister are not shy by any stretch of the imagination. So, at these wedding receptions, my mom would always pull Leeah and I out onto the dance floor, and do dances like the “Macarena” (haha, I didn’t know there was a music video until now) and “The Electric Slide” (oh, ’90s, you were wonderful).

A number of other little dance milestones followed: My fifth grade performance of “The Electric Slide” at a showcase, more wedding receptions, school dances in middle school and high school, as well as my high school dance showcases. I learned a lot of what I know by simply watching other people.

Now, I’m here, where my life is full of dance 24/7. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

‘Bout to Burst: I Can’t Hold It Anymore!

So apparently I’m going to be posting bathroom stories for a while because my last post got me thinking about all the crazy things I’ve experienced with bathrooms.

This particular bathroom incident happened a little less than a year ago while I was visiting my family in Texas. We decided to go to Galveston on this particular day, just to sightsee, so we took the ferry across and had a wonderful day doing touristy things. When the sun was about to set, we decided it was time to head back to Orange, where most of my family lives down there, but before we left, Leeah and I wanted to visit our favorite tourist stop. While there, we decided that we were parched from the day on the beach and all the walking around in the shops on The Strand, so we walked across the street to a McDonald’s.

I got a HUGE iced tea (ya know, in one of those big foam cups) and it was gone by the time we got on the ferry, which was like 2 miles from McDonald’s. (I mean, the island is only 27 miles long and 3 miles wide… so it doesn’t take long to get anywhere). But that iced tea was demolished.Ferry

Anyone whose ever been to Galveston knows that there’s a really really really long stretch of road (I-87) with nothing except beach houses for miles after you get off the ferry (if you’re headed toward Houston). I’ll remember this road forever because it has scarred me for life. I promise you, there is nowhere to stop for gas, food, or the freaking bathroom. Except when you get towards the end. And let me tell you, this freaking road does not end… for miles.

By the time we got to the end of this ridiculously long stretch of road, I was about ready to burst. I had to pee so badly. I’m pretty sure it was the closest I’ve ever been to peeing my pants. It was awful. But we’re just getting to the good part.

So, we finally reached the gas station at the end of I-87. I thought I was seeing a mirage. My sister and I jumped out of the car and walked (by that, I mean we pretty much ran like a bunch of uncivilized children) into this gas station and quickly searched for the nearest bathroom (at that point, I would’ve been satisfied with a hole in the ground. The place didn’t even need walls. I had to go.) After we found the bathroom, I raced myself right on in there. I was smart enough to look for toilet paper as to not violate Restroom Rule #1. But guess what? There was no toilet paper to be found.

I raced out to the cashier to ask for toilet paper, but he wasn’t behind the register. Great. So I rang the little desk bell like 19 times. By the time the cashier took his sweet time making his way up to the register, I thought my bladder might explode. As soon as I saw him, I practically made a public declaration of my need for proper restroom supplies.

Me: “I NEED TOILET PAPER!”

Cashier: “Oh, the bathroom doesn’t have any?”

Me: “No, it’s all out.”

Cashier: “Okay, let me get some. I’ll be right back.”

You guys, it took him forever to find where he stocked his own toilet paper. When he finally returned to the front of the store, he held two rolls of TP covered in plastic. Awesome. I reached my hand out to take them from him, ready to make a mad dash for the bathroom.

Cashier: “Let me unwrap these for you.”

What he should’ve said was: “Let me take my sweet time cautiously unwrapping these two rolls of TP because I’m going to save the freaking plastic wrapping.”

I was almost rude. But I held it in. He was just trying to be nice. After his 5-minute unwrapping marathon, he finally handed me the blessed TP. This time, I unashamedly sprinted for the bathroom. Fresh TP in tow, I closed the door behind me. I was unbuckling my belt when I coincidentally looked up at the sign on the back of the door. It said something to the effect of:

“Only paying customers may use this restroom.”

Oh, God bless America. I should’ve just peed myself right then and there to make the universe happy, but I settled for using the toilet… and buying an ice cream.

Rupturing Restroom Rule #1

So this is embarrassing…

The other day, I walked into the bathroom at school. It was fairly normal, just like any other day walking into the bathroom. There was no one else in there, so I just took a random stall and closed the door behind me. I hung my purse on the little peg on the back of the door and took off my coat to hang it up as well. I proceeded to sit down and do my thang. But right as I was reaching for the toilet paper, the realization that I broke Restroom Rule #1 hit me. I forgot to check to make sure the stall actually had toilet paper.

I almost cursed, y’all. It got real in that stall for a hot minute.

Since I’ve never broken Restroom Rule #1 (that was a 20-year record I had going), a thousand questions ran through my mind all at once. What do I do? Do I sit here and drip dry? (Gross.) Do I wait for someone to come in the bathroom and then plead with them to hand me TP? (That wouldn’t have worked. I was on my way to cover a story I was writing and I had to be on time. The universe would have repelled women from my restroom’s location.) Do I try to reach under the stall wall and unravel some TP from the stall next to me? (I tried that. My arm hurts and it doesn’t work.)

I was at a loss. But, thankfully I remembered this is 2014 and my iPhone was in my coat pocket. I leaned forward to grab my coat off the hook and took out my phone. I dialed my sister because I knew she was in the building (actually, she was right outside the bathroom door at the time) and the following conversation went down:

Leeah: “Hello?”

Me: “Hi… Ummm… I need some toilet paper. Don’t judge me.”

Leeah: “BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” (I swear she laughed so hard. Not nice.) “You’re a hot mess.”

After she got done judging me, she went into the stall next to mine and handed me some TP under the door.

toilet paper

Me: “Ummm… I hate to bother you… BUT WHO THE HECK USES ONE SQUARE OF TOILET PAPER TO WIPE?! A little more…please.”

Leeah: “Dang, girl! How much TP do you think you need?”

As if the situation wasn’t already uncomfortable, she now wanted me to explain what amount of TP I desired because her suggested amount wasn’t good enough?! Haha. No. Thank God I didn’t have to ask a stranger to perform this completely irrational TP-fetching task.

It might have been my imagination, but I swear to you, this came next. She’s totally fired by the way.

toilet paper

Moral of the story: Do NOT, by any means, violate Restroom Rule #1. Your friends will laugh at you and you won’t get a good wipe.

Just a Couple Updates

As I predicted in my last post, I was not met with the sweet slumber that I now long for when I went to bed last night. I had not just one nightmare, but two, and that’s about all I can tell you. All I know is that I woke up crying… and the first nightmare took place in a casino. Other than that I don’t remember what happened, which I’m thankful for (even though y’all don’t have something interesting to read.) exhaustion

I have high hopes that there will be no nightmares tonight because I hit the gym twice today in an attempt to completely exhaust myself. Hopefully deep, uninterrupted, nightmareless sleep will greet me tonight.

On the bright side, I am down 10 pounds, which was my fitness goal when I started at the gym last month. YAY! That might not be much to some people, but I’m proud of myself for actually sticking with it. Now that those 10 pounds are gone, I can see that I still have more to lose. I’m going to take it five pounds at a time, but I know these next few pounds are going to be hard to shed. I’ll just have to work extra hard. #NoPainNoGain

Nonstop Nightmares

Just for funsies (and because I couldn’t really think of anything good to write about today) I took WordPress’ advice and looked at their 365 Days of Writing Prompts just to see if today’s topic would spark my interest. I was very eerily gratified.Nightmares

Today’s topic: Nightmares
Describe the last nightmare you remember having. What do
you think it meant?

Life is so coincidental sometimes! I kid you not, I have gotten no sleep for the past three nights because of nightmares. (Side note: I fell asleep on the silent floor in the school library earlier today. Best sleep I’ve gotten all week. I was almost late to class, but it was so worth it.)

So, I assure you, I have plenty of nightmare stories to go around. However, sharing these nightmares would mean spilling deeply personal details about my life, which I am not a fan of. I mean, my nightmares are supposed to be composed of things that frighten me, and I don’t know if I want everyone knowing what truly scares the crap out of me. But trust me, these things are horrifying.

I will say this: My nightmares are different than my dreams, and not just in fright-factor. A lot of times, my nightmares involve people I actually know and love. In my dreams (happy ones), people are almost always faceless (which is really sucky when I have those knight-in-shining-armor dreams.)

In an attempt to answer the prompt: I think it meant that I need to sort out my problems. Vague, yes, but true.

If I have another one tonight, which is likely because said problems still need to be sorted out, y’all will be the first to know. I might even spill it if it’s not as personal as the last three.

What’s That Noise?

The other morning, I was in my room getting ready for school and it was fairly quiet (I think I was packing my backpack for class or something). As I was doing so, I thought I heard a vibrating noise, just two short vibrations like my phone does when I have a text. I picked my phone up off my desk and hit the “home” button. Nothing. A few minutes later, I heard the same short vibrations, so I picked up my phone to see if I had missed something. Again, nothing. At the time, I just took it at face value. I was probably just hearing things, or wishfully thinking ThatOneGuy would send me a “Good Morning” text (girls do that, don’t judge). Whichever the case, I just went about my business and didn’t think much about it again…

Until a few days later…

It was evening time and I was sitting at my desk in my room doing something on my laptop. I heard the same two short vibrations that I had heard before. Weird. At this point, I knew I wasn’t imagining things. Something was vibrating. I quickly made a mental list of all the devices I own that would make vibrating sounds. But I knew only my phone made that particular vibrating pattern, so I checked it again. Nothing. Weird.

Today, I was sitting on my bed taking a study break on Facebook. I knew Leeah (my sister) left the house early this morning, but wasn’t quite sure where she went. I looked at my Facebook chat and saw that little green dot next to her name with the word “Web” next to it. Usually, “Web” means that the user is accessing Facebook via computer (right?) so I thought it was weird that she would be on a computer somewhere, especially if she was at work, which is where I thought she might be. So, I did something I never do simply because we usually just text each other. I messaged her.

It took me a second to realize it, but eventually I figured out that every time I sent a message, I heard that vibrating sound. I found out that she was at work on break and was using her phone to access Facebook (so the “Web” thing must count iPhones/Pads/Pods as computers? I dunno.) I proceeded to tell her that every time I sent her a message, something in my room vibrated.

Then, it hit me. About a week ago, Leeah activated a new phone.

I asked her if she deactivated her old one and she said no. I also asked her where she put her old phone after she activated her new one. “My room,” she said.

So I guess the vibrating mystery is solved, but I still haven’t found the dumb phone. I’m convinced it’s in my room somewhere. If not, dang. That thing has a really strong vibrate.

Monday Mornings…

Lately, I’ve been waking up in the morning feeling completely exhausted. Like, most mornings I feel like I got ran over by a semi a few times in the middle of the night. This morning was no exception. I got up, and just felt… blah. I’ll get back to this particular morning in a couple minutes.

I’ve know this for a while, but I’ve seen it more and more over the passed few weeks: I do really stupid things when I’m tired. In the past, I’ve done the classics, like putting the milk in the cupboard after pouring it into a bowl of cereal, or putting the peanut butter in the refrigerator after spreading some of it on my toast. But a few mornings ago, I got out of bed, went downstairs to the kitchen, and poured some cereal into a bowl. I put the cereal back in its proper place and got the milk out of the refrigerator to pour it into the bowl as well. All is normal so far, right? Then, I walked across the kitchen to the silverware drawer and pulled out a spoon. Or at least I thought I did. When I got back across the kitchen to sit down and eat, I had a spoon in each hand. I have no idea how it happened or where I got the other spoon from. I know for sure that I reached into the silverware drawer and got one spoon with one hand. Where my other hand grabbed a spoon from, I have no clue.

Two days later, the spoon debacle happened again! Guys, I’m serious, I have no idea how I keep picking up two spoons within the five feet it takes me to walk across my kitchen and back.

Spoon debacle aside, today I reached an all-time low.

I usually blow-dry my hair after I shower in the morning. Before I do that, I prep it with heat protection spray to reduce the damage because I blow-dry it all the time. This morning, as I was sluggishly trying to get ready, I grabbed a bottle off my dresser and sprayed it in my hair. Yeah… definitely not the heat protectant. After about the second pump, I realized that what I was spraying smelled weirdly like my usual body spray. That’s because it was. I’m a genius. A very tired genius.