I thought about giving her a place to be, but I like her where and how she is.



Oh...and I signed her. She'll be up for sale at the next Jitterbugs Art Show.

I had an idea today for a drawing...I don't know though, I think I'd want a frame of refrence and I can't seem to find anything on the web. I guess this is the best I have for now...and I'm sure that's not saying much.

Somedays I find myself more inspired than others. Those are usually the days things get a little hairy and I should actually be responsible and don't want to be. I don't know why I fight adulthood so much of the time. It's not that difficult, I'm just missing maybe one or two rite de passage. I can't believe they would make that much of a difference. I realize this makes no sense at the moment, but if I get off my batoot to do it, I'll pass it on once I'm finished.

There may be a last minute change on the sleepover. I'm thinking instead of figuring out a way to get rid of my folks (orignally they were supposed to be out of town, they ended up not going - yarr), I may just pay for a hotel room for all of us so we don't have to worry about parking, there'd be a pool, and we wouldn't have to do any of the cleaning up...what say you? Would you be willing to bring about 5-7 bucks to help pay for the room/food?

So kids, you were missed. There was quite the audience today at the park. I got a little sun, got a little dancing done, looked at some art. All was well and uneventful. My head hurts.

As you've probably noticed by now, I took pictures before Jitterbugs Night Out last night, and I've decided that I honestly think the red lipstick is magic. I'm not even kidding you. I know how pathetic it sounds, but it works wonders like I've never even known. Granted, I'm sure wearing the skirt helped, but, I'm pretty certian it was the red lipstick. I'm not usually so silly about things, but the attention was nice.

So the missed oppertunity that I wrote about on the 17th may not be the end of the story. I'm hoping it isn't anyway. I am by no means a stalker. I josh around about it all the time, but there isn't a bone in my body motivated enough or a boy in exsistance who is worth possibly wasted efforts...but I found the boy on Myspace. I'm so lame. I'm testing the waters, especially since I've only met him once. Bah. I am so lame.

Really though, it gives me a case of the flutters.

Your hands, they remind me of fond memories
Of the days that can’t be taken back,
Sweet sixteen, sweet sixteen

Cool river waters, dancin’ beneath our feet off to sea
Meet me at midnight down by the tree,
Sweet sixteen, sweet sixteen

Love me forever but if you have to go, say you’ll write
Don’t send me pictures, I’ve got you memorized,
Sweet sixteen, sweet sixteen

Kate Earl - Sweet Sixteen

Oh sweet, merciful Jesus in Heaven! Comedy Central picked up a new season or so of Futurama (my favorite cartoon since Pepper Ann)!!! YESSSSS!

No real anything to report, but I thought I'd share since it made me so happy I did a jig...a really silly jig that involved me clapping really big and left my mouth agape with a GIANT smile. Sorry I don't have pictures. It was pretty goofus.

In other news, I'll be dressing up tonight. You should, too.

So, if I was ever going to make a comedy movie and make the attempt to put a big star in it (big being relative, not the point), I'd court Bonnie Hunt like the dickens. That woman never fails to amuse/amaze me. Gah. Part of it is that she's a homegirl (Illinois, represent!), part of it is that she's so damn awesome.



Unfortunately, I had to download the entire Cars album from iTunes to get John Mayer's version of Route 66 (woo! totally dancable!), but at least I got a few doo-wop songs that'll be nice for Friday nights. We don't play nearly enough doo-wop on Friday nights. I shall make it my mission to remedy that. I want to walk away from dancing feeling like I just walked out of American Graffiti (guh, love that movie).

It's movie month. Happens from time to time. Tomorrow though, I shall forgo the movies to be privy to Shakespeare In The Park's version of Taming Of The Shrew. Love that one! So funny. If anyone wants to join me, you know how to get in contact, do so. Word.

So the ladies slumber party has been decided for July 8th. Sleep in, eat junk for breakfast, primp and head out to Lindy In The Park. I have a list of about thirty-six girls so far. I'm sure Kristin and I will be going over that list with a fine-toothed comb, but holy shamoly, I want everyone to be invited, 'cause when are there really so many follows in a room without having to worry about who's going to get to a lead first?

I'm thinking with that many girls (if they all agreed to show up, that is, I'm also going to have to bus them all here in Grandma Deb (the van) so that way no one has to go by 2 am and there are no cars on the street for the cops to get on my case about. Gah, I'm ecstatic! I bought funny invitations today. Expect yours Friday. I adore my gals, they kick ass. All of 'em.

Off to chuch, fo'shizzle.

I'm growing upside down.

I'm not really growing upside down. It's a song lyric. Well, maybe I am. I don't quite know that I understand what that means though. I'm sure it's a shame that I don't get it yet. Yes, there's more to the song, that'd probably clarify it a lot, but the statement itself is pretty deep.

I honestly thought my center was supposed to be my backyard and my abdomen. It was interesting to hear that the miscommunication was the reason I keep loosing my grip. Again, I've used muscles tonight that I haven't before. This time wasn't nearly as physically intense as past experiences, but I knew I was getting something internally intense. The "tweaking" is sooo nice. It's interesting to have more people fuss with my basics, seeing as I only ever learned lindy from the same two folks. It's also nice to know I have a better connection to look foreward to and that I won't have to just stick to the slower lindy (as I was afraid I was only really ever going to be able to function within the bounds of a slower bpm with any sort of grace).
My first reaction, to be perfectly honest, was a little on the defensive, but I had a quick (quick) change of heart. I do need to work on being a lighter follow, because frankly, I can be a bit of an elephant on the dance floor when it comes to the higher bpms. I also needed a sort of paradigm shift at this stage in the game, that way I don't carry my bad habits with me as I start to play around with my still very green dancing.

Good. I feel a lot better about what this class is supposed to/going to be about.

I have to be at work at 5:45 tomorrow morning, and I can't sleep. Boo.


I saw The Lake House with Michela last night...it was precious. I am of the strict belief that the chemistry that Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves started with Speed and have carried with this movie should be hereforth and forever continued. Granted, she's had some success with other actors in Hollywood, but he's so unlucky in that department and has only had any real success with her. Too bad. I do adore him. Anticipating A Scanner Darkly to kick ass.

Twitterpation. Bugh. It's a curse. Is it technically summer yet? Not until Wednesday, right? So it's considered twitterpation until Wednesday because it's still Spring. So what is it considered if it lasts past Wednesday? It's not a summer fling, I know that...because at this point it's still one-sided. Ah, sweet, terrible Wednesday. I wait for thee.

This is awful quality, but here it is in all it's unsynched glory by request:
The Big Apple!



I still can't believe I know how to do this. It's really hard to see clearly all the footsteps cause they miss a lot of feet in the shots, so take it as a refrence, but I don't know that you'll be able to learn The Big Apple from this.

I think tonight was all about the red lipstick. At the very least it didn't hurt. It was kinda awkward to notice all the attention it brought me, but after watching Heather Graham last night, I just really wanted to try wearing red lipstick. First time ever doing that in public. Usually I'd try it and then take it straight off after realizing how ridiculous I felt. I went for it tonight though.

Some kid kissed my hand after dancing with me tonight. Talk about your awkward moments. I was nice to a veteran (a 20 year old veteran...how crazy...he's just a baby) and after dancing with me, he kissed my hand. That kid has to know that he'll see me again without knowing anything about me. Tres bizarre.

I saw this picture and found myself in the mood for some balloons. No real reason for it. Just balloons. Filled with helium. Made of latex. Shiny, floaty, ballooney, balloons.

This seems to be a little on the schmoopy side. I was going to bore you all with another boy story, but I'll save you for now. My apologies.

The gals came over tonight and we watched Swingers. I love that movie. I'd forgot just how much until I saw it tonight. I think it'd been about three years. Last time I saw it I was still working at Lane Bryant.



Vince Vaughn is such an ass in the movie. I love it. I keep saying I need to find my own personal Vince Vaughn. I found a guy who looks like him, but if I ever see him again...well, that's the mistake of the month. I always think back to moments I should have tried to be more brazen, but I'm like a bear who knows I have fangs and sees my claws and just has no idea how to rip the bunny apart.

The scene between John Favreau and Heather Graham...priceless. I have a feeling that I've had a moment or two like that in my life, but I don't act on it because the moment is never as clear cut as that. Guh. One of the top twenty-five scenes in a movie. I'm collecting them. I should start writing those down.

So, my sheets are on my bed now. I cleaned up, did ALL my laundry, studied like a mutha and didn't sucker myself away from what I needed to do tonight. I feel so accomplished.

Now if only I could be caught up on my studies...

...and if only I could figure out who left the message on my phone at 1:30 in the morning last night.

I thought I'd reward my crazy life with some music tonight. I was sick earlier today and ended up coming home from work, taking some Alieve and passing out for three hours. I woke up just fine. I hadn't had a headache in months, but today I was distinctly feeling it. I don't know what the deal was, but I felt like poo to the tenth power.

I have a test Wednesday morning, so I don't think I'll be dancing tomorrow, or going to church for that matter. I need to do some heavy, heavy studying. I feel sooooo far behind. The only problem is: how do you study a book that's really just "terms and conditions"?

So, I've discovered Blossom Dearie. She's a little nosey, but she's hilarious and delicious all at the same time. So fun. I'll have to play a little of her next time I get in front of a crowd and iTunes at the same time. Hee-hee-hee...Did I mention how much I love dancing? I know I have. Did I mention that I really, really, really like djing? I'm so excited...I know I have a couple more weeks until the next Friday night for me, but yeah.

It sounds funny, but I could really use a second wardrobe. I don't have nearly enough clothes, all the dancing I do after work. Nothing smells very plesant the next day after I dance. I'm getting annoyed, especially since I don't have enough time to even do laundry. Yes, my sheets are still off my bed and still need to be washed. I thought about buying new sheets this week, but they'd still need to be washed before I put them on my bed, too.

Life is too much of a cycle of things I can't/don't want to/don't care to control. Boo.

So, I was supposed to go to the big birthday bash tonight. I did let Jonathan know I needed to study but I'd make it out. Turns out I'm a liar. I started studying and woke up to find myself passed out on my floor (hardwood floor for that matter). I have a crek in my side, but I should be okay. Turns out stocks and bonds are actually as fascenating as they sound. Bah. I feel like poo for missing out. I'm so illegal. When I discovered the time, I decided to eff it and take a shower (it was about 2130). I finshed up a lot of studying tonight and still have plenty more to do tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday. This weekend is going to suck. I'm a wee bit behind and have to have my homework done for Monday and I have my first progress test on Wednesday. Iiiieeee.

My magnetic Superman is pointing toward the ground. Harry Connick Jr. is singing "Don't Fence Me In" on my iTunes. My bed is still sans sheets. One of these days I'll get them cleaned and back on my bed. I bought the new The Ditty Bops cd today. There's a song on it that I tried the Big Apple to, fits like a glove. I lurve it. I had an idea for a painting today. We'll see if it sticks enough to do it. It's already June. Dear goodness gracious. Where did the first half of this year go? Crazy.

I got new dancing shoes while I was in Des Moines. Steve Maddens even. I haven't had luck with dancing in Steve Maddens in the past, which is a shame because he designs some pretty cute shoes. There was an entire store in the Des Moines mall, and I got me a real nice pair of SOLID GOLD (more or less because of the color, they're not actually sold gold) loafers with leather bottoms and nice, solid, noise-making, shoe-stomping heels. Yay! I've danced in them a couple times now and I'm terribly in love with them. I've been ribbed for them from a few folks, but the concensus seems to be positive for the most part. Which of course validates the narcissistic streak I try to hide. HA!

Speaking of Des Moines. I am truely greatful for the scene I'm a part of. I am so thankful for all you crazies. Hee-hee!

For those of you taking Lindy 4, here's a version of the Dean Collins Shim Sham with a souped up break, but other than that, it's for those of you (you know who you are), who like me, can't remember the order in which everything goes after the "normal" stuff.



It's also done a little slower and to a different song. Don't know if that makes a difference, but that really isn't the purpose now, is it?

OH! Also, Sam and I cooked up a plan to learn all the routines with our fingers, too, so we could do instructional videos with finger puppets. Whaddya think?

I love painkillers. Not in the way that I require them to function, but in the way that when I need them, there they are in the shiny plastic bubbles, just waiting to be popped and digested so they can spread their heavenly goodness. So here I am on day four of a six day dancing binge. My knee isn't swollen, it just sorta feels "cloudy." Nothing two Alieve and eight solid hours won't fix. Good Lord though. A normal week should involve excersise at least five times a week, right? I'm only taking Thursday off for the next two weeks. After that I have my Wednesday nights free, too.

Part of the frustration right now is that work set me back a week by keeping me on the training schedule. Studying has been hard and I find myself too weak-spirited to make time. I need my extra two hours in the afternoon to have time to set aside everything and focus. I miss my 6-2:30 schedule so much. I have five bazillion plans that overlap each other and getting off of work at 4:30 is like hitting the ground running. It's like I'm not even getting a break to do laundry and I've had my sheets off my bed for four days now and still with no success of getting them clean. Bugh.

I was talking with Michaela Sunday evening and started talking about plans that a friend has that I am decidedly jealous of. I had no idea until I started admitting it out loud. I was horrified when I started tearing up in front of her. I had no idea I was actually at that point in my life. It's weird how much pressure I feel to be a success to my parents, to be a success with my finances, with myself that I forgot that there were things in my life that mattered so much to me at one point, I've forgotten. I guess all the endorphins are clouding me from being tender to the things that still matter in my life. It's almost like a self-medicating, dancing to cover up the fact that I still have dreams that aren't resolved that I used to keep me up until the wee hours, planning.

Don't get me wrong. I love so much of my life. I wouldn't give up 75% of it. However, those sneaky dreams from jr high (possibly a backlash from the success of Friday night's art show) and from after "the Matrix" still creep their way in and remind me I'm not so one dimensional. Drive is such a strange concept that being caught up in it is almost like being a frog and the water's getting warmer, but you only realize it once you're legs are as good as dinner.

Otis knew how I feel. He had dreams to remeber.

I remember a time when my head was so full. Not that it's empty now. I just had too many thoughts, too many webs that spun into sub-webs, that spun into smaller webs than that. I had a stream of consciousness that from jr high through high school I couldn't control. Maybe that was adolescence. Maybe it was puberty. Maybe it was creative mania. I don't know if it's gone, because I can remember a lot of what it's like, and I can remember what a lot of it consisted of. I worry at times that the creative mania that spurred on my seasons will be the last ones. Like, what if my art goes away again, but this time it doesn't come back? What if the last phase of writing in my life is over? I guess that's why I keep seeking out ways to dance, ways to improve and ways to be creative with it as opposed to fitting a piece of history (which is completely noble)...

There's got to be something here to balance how I feel about my exsistance, too.

Woo, is this too deep? Cause I feel like I'm up to my elbows.