Just a few little thoughts about why I am not ready for it to be Autumn yet.

Mostly nonsense but it is my brain and my feelings so... here have them!!

I waited, because I was overwhelmed at the time. Then I waited to post it here because I wanted to be sure that this was all I had to say. I think I'm in the clear now, no more will come spewing out.

The other video I refer to, with my resolution, can be found here.

As you can tell, this may or may not work out to be a consistent thing. But at least I'll have some new content!!

Maybe I can even actually be interesting!!
Me: These ss10s are pretty much just sand, then there's ss16s, and these ss20s are legit.

Him: Mmmhmm

Me: Can you tell I've discovered rhinestones?

Him: Little bit.

Me: Only cause I find them cheap.
My gorgeous Boyfriend and I went to visit his family in Eagle River, Wisconsin this 4th of July Week. Likely several Blog Posts about this trip will happen. This is the first.

Down here in the Southeast we have so many freaking venomous snakes. Copperheads, Moccasins, Rattlesnakes even in some places. And they're all over, there's no safe space. They're in our gardens, back yards, garages, fields, forests, and ALL of our bodies of water. There are also SOOOOOO many nonvenomous snakes. I see snakes more often than I'd ever wish to if I go outside. Even just the tiny, ropey green garden snakes. Too many of them. And since we have practically perpetual summer, they don't often hibernate or go away.

We're constantly reminded to watch the ground while we walk, we're told not to walk barefoot in the woods, we're told if we see a baby snake to get the hell out. We're told not to kill the snakes, just get the hell out.

The news frequently reports about people being snakebit. It's just… a thing.

The most frequent place to see snakes is in all of our bodies of water. So from the time we're little we're told that while we're swimming we have to be very careful. Don't play in the creeks, watch out for water moccasins, look out for water moccasins… blah blah blah.
Even when we go to the big, highly trafficked lakes and such… you'll see people out on a boat screaming up to shore and pointing "snake" when they see one.

Needless to say, this is not a similar problem Up North. No venomous snakes up around there for the most part.

But my man and I are ruined. Neither of us can spend a long time in a lake. About 15-20mins at a stretch and I start to feel uncomfortable, scanning the top of the water for movement. I have to get out and take a breather. Now I'm responsible for watching out for myself, not my parents.

He said he felt the same way. So even though we had this supposedly safe lake to be in all week long, we only spent small stretches in it at a time. And when a piece of grass or weed touched my butt… I still flipped out a little inside. And a little outside as well.
Just makes me crawly even thinking about it.

We’ve just been ruined, I guess.

I still did this, though.

Open up those shoulders.
I used to want to be a red-head.

But I never wanted to bleach my hair. So I used Home Box Hair Color to get the deepest Auburns (and one time a pretty rad Pink) that I could.

I stopped about ten/twelve years ago.

Fast-forward to last week...


I've been getting compliments and everything!!
Recently, it was my Birthday. For a Post-Birthday Celebration (because my actual date of birth was on a week day so I just scrapped the day altogether and waited a few weeks to celebrate) we decided to go to Tampa for a two-night stay.

I had a few things I thought I might like to do with roughly 48hrs in Tampa and spend some time hanging out in a place that I've never really explored.
So I had a bit of a plan and things didn't so according to the schedule of that plan but the plans did pan out in a different order. I'm really only going to talk about one part of this experience, but I thought I would give some prologue.

We decided, well, I decided and my company wasn't averse to the idea- we went to the Hard Rock Casino Tampa to their Champagne Brunch Buffet. It had everything I required to be a good time. Casino-style Buffet, Bottomless Mimosas and a price tag that was slightly intimidating but not exorbitant- presenting a challenge to making certain to get your money's worth.

The pictures make up the whole of my food consumption for the morning but don't also show the three mimosas and complimentary Bloody Mary that I consumed as well. There was also some water because I'm not a total heathen.

I noted a theme while we were eating, though, that has always sorta been stirring at the back of my brain but just now is making its way into the forefront with a good metaphor.

There emerge two distinct types of people when approaching a daunting amount of food. I will describe them.


Bursts onto the scene in the atmosphere, sparkles super brightly for a while, then burns out. This was my breakfast companion this morning. He'd had a plate and a half of food before I'd eaten my first plate entirely. But then he hit the wall. For quite a while. He hit that wall while I got my Bloody Mary Customized, while I my second plate of food, while I ate my third plate of food he took another small bite and while I summed up my meal he had a small dessert. Burned bright at the start but ultimately had no flash.


This is Me. I came in, I stalked around the buffet to gather the lay of the land before I even got my first Mimosa. I had a plan.
First- a plate of veggies.
Second- a plate of meats and carbs
Third- more savory dishes if I felt them necessary or desirable
Fourth- sweet breakfast foods, dessert, etc.
Fifth- fruit and cheese to promote satiety and round out the meal.
General Plan- slowly consume the alcohol, but steadily.

I had a plan, I stuck to it. I didn't let shiny things in the corners distract me. I ran my course, I made the stops I was supposed to make- even though my flame was strong it didn't go out. This is a marathon, people, not a sprint. When I get to the end of my long journey, there's a celebration and I get to walk away (waddle) with my head held high.

So I'm the Olympic Torch, my partner the Meteor. After I was through I remarked to several people via text that "someone needs to roll my Blueberry butt out of the chocolate factory" and that was true. There was about an hour of the Buffet Sweats on the way back to our hotel, I admit. But I got through that and most of it was because it was like 85 degrees outside and 100% humidity and I was wearing skinny jeans and heeled booties.

Maybe one day you'll be faced with amazing amounts of food and need to decide which of these two types you will be. There's nothing wrong with either. But you have to decide going in in order to get the most out of your "there's SO much Food" experience.

Clockwise from Top Left: First plate of veggies; Second plate of meat
and carbs; Third Plate of heavy dessert; Fourth Plate of fruit and cheeses.

(I wrote this at night, I'm posting it in the daytime because it is more convenient. I do NOT day drink on regular weekdays. Only on fun weekdays) There are no pictures for this right now, maybe I'll update with added pictures soon!!

I just made myself a vodka and orange juice in a small IKEA tumbler. I have a weird thing for these tumblers and they're not mine. They're part of the "Roommate Kitchenware Shuffle" and I'm going to miss these damn things when I'm no longer a part of this Roommate shuffle.

There are six of them. They have little geometric patterns on them: two have black and white bars, two have black & white concentric circles and two have black & white layered squares.

I would seriously consider, I am seriously considering right now, offering the Owner Roommate like $15 on the way out the door (their way out or ours, whatever happens first) for these tumblers.
Nearly every morning we have our orange juice in them. If we have cocktails, they are perfect cocktail size. If I want to drink a random glass of almond milk in the middle of the night… perfect. And while I am sure IKEA currently makes comparable tumblers, I am for some reason obsessed with these.

They make me so happy. I love serving two little cute matching glasses of orange juice or vodka tonic or half a beer when we're feeling like lame old people.

I'm gonna have to start breaking up with these glasses just in case I can't buy them away from their owner but… I don't wanna!!
I've been away from posting anything here for a while but I can give you a concise and clear answer as to why...

I've been trying to write a new About Me section and it is causing me to tear hair out of my head in chunks (metaphorically, obviously, thankfully.)

Because I realise some people actually want to know ABOUT Me, and some people just want the gist of the thing, to find something About Me that they're looking for. So I'm trying to accommodate both those instances of ME, ya know?

So I popped by to say "never fear, I'm still here" and also to say "hopefully I will get this mess sorted soon and have a new section to my site with more info and awesomeness.

Just be patient, deal? Deal!!

The first time I heard the phrase "Half a Bubble off of Plumb" I heard it from my VERY Southern Literature teacher in high school and through her accent I heard "Half a bubble off a plum."

I spent a long time wondering what bubbles and plums had to do with one another. Not because I didn't know about Levels or Plumb lines… just because I had no idea how to interpret what I was certain I'd heard.

Until one day, years later, while building a Stage Set for my Theatre Degree. I was laying a plumb line with a chalker and a level and I actually said out loud "It's about half a bubble that way" and then gasped because I suddenly understood.

I'm pretty sure I stood up, laughing at myself and said "Half a bubble off OF plumb… not half a bubble off A plum…" and everyone looked at me funny.

Head back to Part 1 right here: How I Pray and Why

So, from the last part of this we gather that I:
-Am Protestant Christian
-Pray more often than just to bless food or when I want something from God
-Still fall back on being selfish sometimes
-Have a few weird but serious hang ups about Formal Corporate Prayer, that I'm not going to talk about
Moving forward…

I have plenty of friends who do not identify as Protestant Christians. In my life I have had Catholic friends, Jewish friends, Buddhist and Hindu Friends, Muslim Friends, Coptic Christian Friends, Friends who identify themselves as Wiccan, Pagan, Atheist, "Spiritual but not Religious" and members of the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster… I've known lots of people and hope to continue to do so for my lifetime.

A lot of my friends don't directly pray. A lot of my friends even if they don't share my religion, DO pray. But I'm not trying to exclude anyone that I know from doing their level best to help me when I need it.

And I truly, 100% believe in the power of people's positivity and good intentions to influence situations for the better. Even if my friend is not directly involved in the situation, even if my friend is not aware of the exact nature of the situation… I believe that just having someone in my corner is enough to make good things happen. Just knowing that I have a network of people who are willing to take literally just a couple of seconds to move air with my name in it in a positive fashion is enough sometimes to get me over hurdles or just to get me moving past hang ups I have in my life that I wouldn't manage well without this little bit of knowing.

Even just the idea that people SAY they'll do it (cause I know words sometimes grow hollow) is often enough. Even though I firmly believe that actual prayer and people's good intentions have tangible influence on the world, I also believe that the act of even setting your thoughts positively toward something for a moment, ends up making you a more positive person over all. So while their promise to pray or send good vibes or whatever may never come to fruition, if they sincerely meant it when they said it (like slapping a Band-Aid on a paper cut) it worked.

Anyway, all of this rambling was just to say that I frequently ask for any sort of positive intentions toward my life that I can get. And I frequently respond to people's requests for the same, with positive intentions or prayers of my own.

But really this entire Two-Part Post was just to slip a little personal history of religion in there. So, what? :)

Part 1: How I Pray and Why

I identify myself as a Protestant Christian. I was raised that way, even if imperfectly and I try to live that way, very imperfectly but trying. So I pray. I can't say if I pray more, or less or on average the same as other identifying Christians, I'm probably my own unique level of praying in my own unique journey through life.

I don't necessarily formally pray a lot. There's a whole huge backstory to that, that includes a LOT of formal prayer and a lot of emotional and spiritual breakage… there's no need to go into that right now. Suffice it to say that I don't "come before the Lord in prayer" a lot and outside of a Church Service Setting, that phrase makes me anxious. For personal reasons, solely.

I do, however, pray "formal prayers" in an informal setting. Prayers that start with "Dear God…" and end in "In Jesus' Name, Amen" are my idea of serious, formal prayer. Prayers at meal times that go beyond just a blessing of the food, prayers when people are ill or hurting or when tragedies happen.
The love of my life and I pray together formally before one of us travels away from the other.

When I was younger, ok I'll admit it, in high school… *coughtwentyyearsago* I had a "Prayer Notebook" where someone told me to write ACTS prayers. For those of you not in the Sunday School Know (eesh) ACTS Prayers are prayers that follow the structure of:
Adoration and Praise- "You are a holy and loving God and I acknowledge your sovereignty" etc etc…
Confession- "I confess that I am a sinner" (we all know that one)
Thanks- "Thank you for everything that you've done for me this past day…" (it was hard sometimes to be thankful daily, it was a lot of repetition)
Supplication- "Lord I just ask…" (this is where you get to ask for things, not until the end so you don't seem greedy or ungrateful)
That lasted off and on for a semester because it probably took me the whole 15mins of Home Room to think up a one page notebook paper prayer so it was a good way to waste time, that I felt was helping me spiritually. I know… I know.

So now I'm an adult and my "prayer life" has been shaped by all of these things. I've learned in my life about things called Popcorn Prayers (throw up a tiny prayer in the midst of something else) and I've learned about not letting your prayers be in vain (another entire sermon series I could give from rote memory)  and so many other things.
But I've found a rhythm that works for me, works for my relationship with God as I see it… and has gotten me the spiritual results that one who identifies as a Protestant Christian can expect to see from prayer, in some small measure.

Now I pray when I have the inclination. For whatever reason, in whatever situation and not super formally at all.
Riding in the car, "God please help me make it through this day because I know you're the absolute source of everything I will need to make it and I am fully acknowledging that you have put inside of me everything that I need for today so long as I am willing to trust you that it is there."
Wracked with emotion when I can't find the words beyond "pleasegodpleasegodpleasegodpleasegod."
Completely thankful for everything in the world "Thank you God that you woke me up today to see another beautiful day and that I am breathing and alive and able to partake of this wonderful creation around me."

Sometimes I still selfish pray, I mean, we're all only human. But in general, this is my prayer life as it stands, 33 (almost 34) years into my trips around the sun.

Carry on to Part 2 here, whenever I get around to posting it.
NTTR Week 2

Week Two's Update of the Nose to the Rhinestone Challenge brings a lot of issues. I'm admittedly struggling because I'm used to spending nearly weeks without addressing anything creative, and then plunging in and putting in 40hours like a full-time job.

Just trying to do 30mins a day is ridiculously stressful. 

I'm more likely to want to do 8hrs one day and not again for a few days than this consistency. Trying to carve out 30mins in every day is not easy, finding a way to rearrange my entire schedule so that I can find five or six hours at a stretch is super easy.

I like to think I don't spend any time outside of my house, but trying to find 30mins to sit down and get these things done shows me that I'm out of the house a LOT more often than I realise. I'm frequently in places where I can't craft or produce creative things. And I'm generally ok with that. Consistency has never been my Prime Objective. Except, maybe it should be.

I am definitely learning from this experience, and I've two more weeks to go.

Powerful Woman

I read This Article the other day... I've sat with it for a little while now. I've decided to write a response.

I am sitting here at 33 years old (My Birthday is in 2 Months and 8 Days if you must know) and I feel both ancient and so very young.
Ancient because I have been doing this, THIS thing we call "Living" for 33 years. I've been conscious of it, and making memories of it, for about 30 of those years.
So VERY young because people in my family tend to live long, long lives. My maternal grandfather died of lung cancer, but he was nearly 80 when it happened. Even my paternal grandmother, who was taken abruptly by ovarian cancer, was 80 when she died. Long, long lives indeed.

By the precedent set up in my family, I am liable to be here for at LEAST 45-48 more years. As people keep getting older (my surviving blood grandparents are 82 and 80 and enjoying healthy lives right now) that average goes up. Barring an accident or catastrophic illness, I have a LOT of life ahead of me.

And I despair of that sometimes. Sometimes I sit around like the end of Interview with the Vampire (couldn't find an appropriate picture) Magenta from Rocky Horror and just lament how much longer I am likely to be around. Because hot dang if 33 doesn't feel like it is just an eternity most days.


But, if I truly sit down and take the time to stop being so dramatic I realise the following things:

-As I get older I feel more powerful. Not just in that way that becoming an Adult makes you feel more powerful. I feel as though I am becoming more "Me," more "Rhiannon Martin" as I get older.
Like previous to being about 25 anyone could've called themselves "Rhiannon" and you would've had to belive them because honestly, who the actual crap was she?
Now there's no denying who Rhiannon Martin is and that there's absolutely only one of me. I am galvanized, and that is powerful.
I feel more powerful.
-As I get older I feel more beautiful.
Yeah I'm totally pissed off that my hair started going gray at age 30. But not BECAUSE it started going gray, more because I would rather wake up one morning to gorgeous, flowing gray locks (Emmylou Harris anyone?) than spend 30 years slowly turning awesome.


-I am angry that media and popular culture tell women that we lose our desirability as we get older. This is not at ALL what I have discovered in my life. I've found myself more attractive to everyone for every reason. Sexually, as a friend, as a nurturer, as a help in times of trouble, as the cause of someone's troubles. I've found that people want me MORE the older I get. And I want to have older women around more as I get older, too.

I don't necessarily believe that every bad thing stems from the patriarchy, I don't want to blame "patriarcal tendancies" on the reasons why we treat aging women this way. I instead choose to think of it as a failing of sinful hearts and minds in a world that looks out for #1 almost exclusively.

Obviously you wouldn't want a woman to know how powerful she is if she might diminish you? Right? I mean... right? We've been led to believe this anyway. I don't think it is true. I don't think that the more powerful I feel, the more I need to rob someone else of her power.

This is honestly going to end up being an unfinished tangent. I could either stop here, with a final paragraph, or write a manifesto I'm not interested in composing at the moment. So I'll sum up.

It is absolutely true that I feel more powerful as I get older- in every aspect of my life. It is also true that I hate feeling vague suppressed by the general culture at hand. BUT, a third truth is that I am taking it all in stride and not letting anything get in the way of my general awesomeness. As long as I AM powerful (and I am) I can FEEL powerful.

Can we talk about Emmylous Harris again for a moment and say that this song is ALL about me?

As the first week of the Nose to the Rhinestone Challenge of 2017 comes to an end, I'll point you from this Muggle Page of mine over to where sparkles grow and carpet tape has new uses never before thought up outside of the Burlesque World.

I'm just going to make a quick redirect so that everyone can see what I've been up to this week. Extra boring, but definitely mostly GirlBoss stuff. This week will bring more creative endeavors but you have to document everything and I WANT to document everything, so here goes:

You can always look for my Weekly Follow Up Posts to be added here or you can Follow the Princess Augusta Blog for all the Details. Your choice, but I bet the second one would be more fun!
I want to share something I'm doing for the Month of March with you!! But I don't want to cross post a bunch of things from my Muggle Performer Life and my Burlesque Performer Life. I'd really just rather you Follow/Like/Love/Go On Over to my Burlesque Page as well.

The Challenge is as follows:

Without clogging all my feeds with the exact same posts, I'm going to do this.

So I'm going to send you in that Direction right about… Now!
Blog/Website: Click Here! Princess Augusta's Blog
Facebook: Click Here! Princess Augusta on Facebook
Twitter: Click Here! Princess Augusta on Twitter

And I'd love for you to Join me over there to see what I get up to this March for this Challenge. It should be a lot of fun!
Another Unarchived Post that was originally not available to the at-large public. I am making it available now.


So I went with my friend to a Lee Harris Energy Tune-Up. I'll Bullet Point some things to get the story across.

-I am a massive skeptic of people who feel like the world won't accept their message from their mind and their mind alone. Therefore I went into this experience with a large reserve of my own judgement for Lee and his "channeling." I don't understand why a person feels like no one would accept their message if the wisdom was just in their own heads and why they feel like people will accept it if they say "hey, beings from another plane told me this."
-However, I ALSO understand that people EAT THAT JUNK UP. So maybe it is something that happens as a savvy business person where you say, "I have wisdom, they want wisdom. I have the ability to tell the story they want to hear, I'll just tell them that story."
-Hell, for all I know there ARE beings from another plane telling him this stuff. I am not a one-way skeptic.

-I firmly believe that one person can learn something from any other person.
-Even if what you learn from that person is how NOT to do a thing.

-Lee Harris said something that caused me to have a major mind explosion of thought and feelings on the subject he mentioned.
-I didn't even have to be annoyed at how it came through because he wasn't "channeling" when he said it but rather using an Intuitive approach to reading audience questions and answering. I can get into Intuitive reading, it isn't Hot or Cold reading but rather the person kind based on reception to what the person  is doing as you speak to them. I know that's a thing. Verbal and non-verbal cues, etc.- are real things I can pinpoint.

-I made a video of my responsive thoughts and feelings based on what Lee said. It ended up being a 13min video almost. I've been meaning to post things like this for years, people say they enjoy listening to me just express myself about things that come up in my head and I've ALWAYS enjoyed writing about stuff. But sometimes I just have a block. So I thought I would try speaking about it.

This is an Unarchived Post that wasn't previously available to the public. I am making it available to you now.

(Forewarned is forearmed) I believe in God but you can absolutely 100% read and understand this with no concept of the Christian God, or any god, as a reality…

You know those times when you have heard something so many times it stopped being meaningful or making sense and then all of a sudden, you have a breakthrough?

*cue that time right now*

Throughout my life, I've heard the Bible verse, Matthew 6:25-34 preached to me over and over again. You can read it at the bottom of this, I copied it for your ease of finding.
People have preached or taught to me over and over again that we SHOULDN'T be afraid and we SHOULDN'T worry, and that being anxious is not what God wants for us. Over and over again I've heard this to the point that I've kinda grown hard to it.
Because I know that if God really didn't want me to be anxious or fearful and if he's really All Powerful, then he could just take it away. Miraculously.
So yeah yeah, God wants me to trust him and he wants me to not be afraid. Ok, cool.

Well, this weekend I was at a Women's Ministry Retreat that I go to every year and I saw that this passage was the focus for the weekend and I just sorta started to roll my eyes and got into a mindset of "well here we go again."
But I know the speaker personally, and she's a wonderful person, and I wanted to trust that she knew what she was doing by bringing this up again.
So I decided I would actually listen instead of just glossing over the whole thing and going home while pretending it was pleasant.

And she said something I'd never heard before. She finally said something that sounds more reasonable to me as an explanation for why this was written down- than anyone has ever explained it before.
She told us that we are absolutely, 100% allowed to feel fear. That fear was created to be felt by us and isn't inherently bad. That fear can help us do miraculous things in extraordinary settings and that a measure of anxiety can give us awareness of our situation to prevent and help us prepare for certain things.

But that we're not to live in fear, because every single day we're given by God exactly the things we need to get through that day. We're not given them before that day, and possibly the same things that we were given today will not work tomorrow. But every day we are given exactly what we need to get through the day.
Because at the end of the day, as long as we're alive, we've had everything we need. And if we're dead, well, everyone dies. God makes no one immortal.

We are to only think about the things that are right in front of us, we are only to think about "What am I dealing with today and just today?" We are only meant to be waiting on the day in front of us. Because God gives us everything we need to equip ourselves for every day on its own. All we have to do are the things given to us to do (keep an appointment we made, go to work, avail ourselves of modern medicine if we are infirm, eat our food, give change to a homeless person we see, breathe the air, go to sleep) each day and the rest of it is not our concern. Our concern is not what the homeless man does with our change or what the doctor will say in six months when we return, or what we're going to eat next week when everyone has to be someplace different at dinner time… just exactly what is happening today.

Essentially the things she said over two days come down to this quote that she gave us at the end of our booklets…

"... a large part of faith ... consists of just refusing anxious thoughts .. . refusing to think about worrying things, refusing to think of the future in that wrong sense. The devil and all adverse circumstances will do their utmost to make me do so, but having faith means that I shall say: ‘No; I refuse to be worried. I have done my reasonable service; I have done what I believed to be right and legitimate, and beyond that I will not think at all.’ That is faith, and it is particularly true with regard to the future. When the devil comes with his insinuations, injecting them into you—all the fiery darts of the evil one—say, ‘No; I am not interested. The God whom I am trusting for today, I will trust for tomorrow. I refuse to listen; I will not think your thoughts.’ Faith is refusing to be burdened because we have cast our burden upon the Lord. May He, in His infinite grace, give us wisdom and grace to implement these simple principles and thereby rejoice in Him day by day."
 (D. Martyn Lloyd Jones)

So, and now especially when I've spent so much time railing endlessly  about my troubles. About medical insurance, about steady and gainful employment, about relationship anxieties and on and on and on…
Sufficient for today are the troubles for today. Tomorrow's troubles can wait until tomorrow. What do I need to do today? Today I need to sleep. Tomorrow I need to make a plan but I don't need to anticipate that plan tonight, I don't have everything I need to make it tonight. I'll get everything I need in the morning.

I am only equipped to deal with the things in front of me today. No amount of anxiety will change the future. The future will come and when it is the present, I will be uniquely equipped to handle it that day.

Matthew 6- 25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I am introducing a new series based around small thoughts I have that I feel like sharing. Hence- Thought Bites. Not exactly a Sound Bite, but about the same size.

Why is it that when we're growing up, no matter who teaches us how to make the bed (mom, dad, aunt, grandparents, whomever) no one who TEACHES us, knows how to do it like we later find out how to do it on our own?

I learned how to make my bed from my mom, and she taught me to do a good job. She taught me that the easiest way to put on a fitted sheet is diagonal corners at a time, she taught me how to put a pillow case on the bed, stuff like that. But I'm later coming to find out that she didn't teach me to make the bed like SHE makes a bed.

As an adult, on my own, I've learned how to:

-Put the pillow tag down into the pillow case so it doesn't hang out, or crap, how to remove the tag if you really want to.
-Make hospital corners on the flat sheet (I learned that one for a Stage Play where I had to make up an actual hospital bed for every show.)

-Put the printed side of the flat sheet facing down so that when you open the sheets, both printed sides are together and it looks nicer when folded back. (See Photo)
-Put the open ends of the pillow cases facing in toward the center of the bed so they don't hang all over the place.

Who even KNEW?

Now don't get fooled by this picture and don't get me wrong, I usually just sleep in a nest of blankets and a fitted sheet but sometimes I make the bed. I'm currently trying out bed making on a regular basis on a new Queen Mattress Set and new Bed in a Bag from Wal-Mart. So far, it is glorious but who knows how long that will last. :)

But there's my thoughts on that.

(Lightly Edited from a Rare Public Facebook Post)

She didn't convert me, but I'm going to do something I never thought I would do. Use positive adjectives regarding Lady Gaga. Seriously positive adjectives.

I usually have zero truck with Lady Gaga. She and I exist in the same universe and go about our business on neutral or wtf terms...

YA'LL... What was this amazingness?

She live sang I would say 90% of that 13mins. Live sang it and stayed on pitch, in tune, and in her range. She didn't get super winded and proved without equivocation that she's massively talented.

Gaga has been on the "No Makeup" Bandwagon (also known as the thing I do nearly every day) but obviously stage makeup for the Super Bowl. But this was totally understated by her standards and she even got further minimal as it went along. Her hair was styled but not anything like what she's done in the past.

Her body was just the realest. And since she pretty much has my body (except I want her skin and, let's face it, her boobs) it was nice to see it all out there. Thin with a couple of tummy rolls and thick thighs... yeah. She even had backup dude carrying her around, she's just hanging out there. Not a Spanx in sight.

And EVEN THOUGH some of the technical aspects made me sad in a really real way (that wire work was terrrrrrrible you guys) let me reiterate:
-She was talented and understated (for her, anyway)
-She was clothed and for the most part not provocative. She was evocative.
-She was a REAL human being playing a role, not a role playing a human being as I've called her in the past.
-She was not inappropriate, she was not divisive. She made Art, and even if it was palatable Art, for a minute we could all breathe and look around and say "wow... look at that."

Let's just not get me started about the Falcons though. This isn't that kind of blog. *anger, rage*
Further expansion on these thoughts below the video...


Ok just a little further expansion because leaving with no paragraph seems bare.

I really intend to do this. People are going to get left behind, projects will be changed and directions will be overhauled.

If you want to come with me, do. If you don't, get out of my way.

Meaningful 2017

Little bit of a deviation here, I'll tell a personal story from my *gasp* Teenage Years!!

When I was in 4th grade, I stopped being able to see the blackboard at school. Between 4th and 5th grade, I got some pretty daggum thick glasses. It didn't really ding my confidence in myself, because I could see again, but they were UGLY, ugly clear, plastic, giant glasses (thanks mom!) and I started to realise that around about 8th grade.

My mom let me get gold-framed, smaller lens, glasses sometime in 8th grade and while I went about my business transitioning to high school still fairly confident in myself- the glasses were starting to hurt my friendships.

Peers outright made comments about them. I found out the boy I really liked said he would never ask me out if I had disgusting glasses. My life became one huge contentious piece of cow turd because of my glasses. I literally could not get further in life socially because of them.

Somewhere around the time I was 13-14, some of the kids at my Youth Group (yes, a church-related organization) stole my purse. In my purse, I had some things that a 13 year old Me thought she needed, but they were admittedly weird out of context. But here's a small list and quick explanation:
-Like 50 Chick-Fil-A Salt Packets (school cafeteria didn't have any salt and I am ADDICTED to salt, less so twenty years later than I was then but… yeah, addict. Me.)
-A Photocopied picture of the boy I had a crush on. (I'd taken it down off of a bulletin board in the Sunday School Room and slapped it on the Xerox machine in the church hallway. I just wanted a picture of him.)
-Some cheap, Avon Jewelry (My Sunday School teacher at the time sold Avon and she would give me catalogs and I would use my allowance to order things.)

When my purse was returned to me, DAYS later, the following things had taken place:
-All of the jewelry boxes had been opened, rifled through and dumped unceremoniously back into my purse.
-The salt packets had all been thrown away.
-The photocopied picture had been dirtied, creased, and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEPEOPLE WHO TOOK MY PURSE had signed their full name and written some nasty comment. 8 signatures and nasty comments ranging from "What's up with the salt, weirdo?" "Nice Glasses" and "Stalker" to "We're going to tell him about this." No one was punished for this, they were "spoken to" about it.

That Memorial Day (not too long after the Purse Theft) I decided to try not wearing my glasses. I claimed they were broken. I was spending time at a Youth Group Function and I walked right into a screen door because I couldn't see that it was closed. Those same people mocked me and brought up the Purse Theft again.

It wasn't as if I sat around all day wishing for Laser Surgery or contacts or better glasses. I wore my gold rimmed glasses and openly scorned anyone who talked poorly about me. I went scorched Earth on everyone. Come at me with a Level 1 Insult about my glasses? I fired back at Level 10. I made sure that if I didn't have any friend because of my glasses, it was because my glasses had turned me into a huge and unwieldy bitch.

15th Birthday, I get a Birthday Card written on Lisa Frank Sationary (hoo buddy we're old) from one of the girls who participated in the Purse Theft. She's an "Abercrombie Girl" and was known for not being able to make an overnight trip without the largest suitcase known to man.
Excerpts from this note that I can't remember in detail include outright lies about how much she loved spending time with me (we never did outside of large group functions and within those had never had a conversation) and how glad she was that we were friends (we were barely acquaintances.)
Excerpts that I CAN remember from the note were, as follows, "You are so pretty without your glasses. I would love to do your make up and get you some contacts."

Apparently even on my Birthday I needed to be reminded that I am not good enough the way I am. I need to be changed before anyone will like me.

I stopped hanging out with those people very much, as people graduated high school and moved away, the Youth Group was no longer a thing.

Fast Forward to my 17th year of life. In the summer between my Junior and Senior year of high school, I got contacts. NO MORE GLASSES!! I went back to the way I remembered my face looking before I had all the hideous string of clear plastic and gold, metal round frames across my face.

I showed up to school for Open House and almost literally no one recognized me. To continue with a theme- this was me walking into my SECOND year of Chorus/Drama with the same people as last year… it'd only been two months.

AND I'D LOVE to say that my life changed from then on… that I was suddenly popular and had lots of friends etc, etc… but no.
I still had just the same friends I'd had before. I still sat at the end of the Special Education Class lunch table (honestly ya'll, they used to yell at us when THEIR friends wanted to sit with them. The Special Education Class, who really didn't know how to be purposefully mean most of them… would pull a "you can't sit with us" on me at school) and I still was accused of turning in the class drug dealer, or maybe THAT one was me.

So, Moral of the Story: An outer transformation doesn't always earn you the adoration of Freddie Prinze Jr, but honestly, have you seen FPJr lately? He's still KINDA fly but mostly just Dad Fly and so… SMG can have him.

Now, let's dance!!


I'm only a little sorry that this has turned into such an epic story, back to the original topic of the - the previous entry - (which you should read to get up to speed…) my trouble with finding a dance class.

This past week, I was feeling fat, out of shape, stiff and flabby and wanted to go to a dance class. I am far away from the Ballet class that I have been attending for nearly ten years… depression was setting in. So I looked around me for a class I could go to. I found one option for that day- an Adult Hip-hop class at a local studio.
The following things took place after I found the listing:
-I looked up the studio and I was immediately wary. It is a Competition-Based Studio (I could write another whole post on how I feel about those… I probably will at some point) and generally aimed at starting children young and keeping them until they go to college. The studio also has Voice and Acting Lessons… *sigh*. Again, I could write volumes.
-I looked up the Adult Class Listings in General. They have Two Levels of Adult Clogging, this Hip-Hop Class, Adult Jazz, Adult Modern & Contemporary and Adult "Ballet Stretch and Tone." Every Class description except the Clogging was "All Ages & Levels Encouraged."
-I looked up the Instructor. She's 19 years old, has only really danced with that particular studio and is currently enrolled at the local university. Her aspirations are to graduate and move to LA to be a "writer, director, producer, editor…" … … …

So. Many. Flags. So many flags for me. However, I COULD be wrong. And, if you know me, you know one of my Life Mottos is:

"You can learn anything from anyone, even if all you learn is how not to do a thing."

Cherry on Top? First Class Free. Heck to yeah ya'll. I'm nothing if not broke so why in God's name not? I signed up.


Fast forward a couple of hours (I signed up last minute, again, why not?) and I get to the studio. Yet more flags:

-The studio floors are not sprung. I'm pretty certain they were just a layer of roll-out marley over concrete floors. I'm 33 years old you guys, I can't be dancing high impact over a concrete floor with my knees.
-The studio floors were FILTHY. And I mean, filthy. I knew I was going to have to wear my street shoes to the class (because I'm travelling and not fully prepared) so before I left I cleaned the soles of my shoes really well and then didn't wear them to the class. So I had clean-soled shoes. Despite them being street shoes. But the floor of this studio was covered in Glitter, Dirt, Hairballs (ugh, human hair) and torn floor tape. I didn't really want to sit on the floor when I walked in and I definitely was feeling like if I got sweaty I would NOT want to be on the floor.
-The studio is located on the corner of a strip mall and this particular front studio had two walls entirely made of windows. The windows were tinted, but in such a way that when it is dark outside and the lights are on inside (like almost every day of the winter when a dance studio is open) the windows are just as transparent as if they weren't tinted at all.

Let me explain why these things are BAD. In one more bullet point corresponding to each bullet point above:

-Injuries. Especially for young children who are leaping/turning. Especially for dancers, who have a short shelf life anyway. I'd like to be able to walk when I'm 60.
-I don't mind a little dirt but how hard is it to run a broom over the studio floor? This class was at 7:30 on a Tuesday. The studio opened at 4 that day and if there was THAT much dirt accumulated over 3.5 hours… gross. It was clearly a few days' worth of dirt. Obviously someone doesn't care enough about the studio to make certain it is swept at the beginning or end of every evening.
-Need I tell you why windows out into a strip mall that are easily observable is a bad thing, with children (mostly girls) in leotards stretching and dancing for hours on end? Much teenagers, adult women, etc.? I mean, they don't let the parents sit in on the classes, except they do because all you have to do is walk right outside and any Rando can see into the front studio.


Now for the class itself. I've already got my hackles up but like I said above, I'm willing to try.

*All Ages and Levels Encouraged*
A Sticky subject. I've been in All Levels Classes with Beginners, and it is fine. My Ballet Class that I've attended for ten years is All Levels and I thrive there.

The key to *All Ages and Levels Encouraged* is to NOT teach to the lowest Beginner Denominator. Nor do you teach to the most Advanced Denominator. You have to teach to an Intermediate Student and offer both a more difficult and more simple modifier to accommodate the above and below levels. That is the most successful way to teach an *All Ages and Levels Encouraged* Class.

This was not the way this class was taught. Myself, three other girls who appeared to be college aged and were clearly dancers and another girl who looked also college aged but identified herself as "an absolute beginner who is horrible" (#shewasnot) made up the class. All of us looked anywhere from 5-10 years older than the Instructor (and me, a whopping 14 years older) and all ready to go. All of us except the "absolute beginner" were first time attendees.

I am not going to make any further comment on the Instructor, other than to say that she was not a correct fit for any sort of Hip-Hop Class that I need to be taking. She taught a class appropriate for Absolute Beginners and it is the fault of the Studio for listing it as *All Ages and Levels Encouraged.* Any good studio owner (not necessarily any 19 year old instructor) should know who their classes are appropriate for.

20 minutes into the class, one of the other girls suddenly blurted out (in an unconvincing manner) "I just remembered I have to leave early, I'm sorry!" and fled the room. I'm pretty certain she didn't have anywhere to be, but she might've.
The other two girls, the Beginner and I stuck it out for the whole class. We followed the exercises, we did what we were asked, and behind the instructor's back the other two girls kept trying to up the difficulty level.


Free Class, I can learn something from any teacher… this time I learned going forward to be more forthcoming about the Levels of my Class.
From now on, I'll be advertising my Classes as "Class Taught at Intermediate Level, Modifications Available for Beginner/Advanced Students." Or, ya know, apply appropriate Levels in appropriate places. It might mean fewer people walk in the door, but it will also mean no one leaves super disappointed because they didn't even break a sweat.

However, this still leaves me trying to find my own Dance Class that I can attend. I think there are two more options around here, where I am now. Hopefully they too, are First Class Free. We'll see what happens.
Next Post Newer Posts Previous Post Older Posts Home