I Just Wanna Dance

I love to dance. For serious. It’s one of my favorite things in the world.

A little over three weeks ago I hurt my knee. I generally don’t care too much (one can always drink more to ignore the pain) except that I haven’t been able to jazzercise, and since at times I can barely walk I also haven’t really been dancing. It’s feeling a little better today so I’ve been groovin’ around the apartment. Of course that probably means it’ll be worse tomorrow, but that is literally a problem for another day!

Now just because I love to dance, one should not assume I am a “good” dancer, or that I like any kind of dancing. If you said you loved music, would I assume that means you love every genre there is? I mean maybe you do, but you know what happens when you assume.

My brother is actually a pretty decent dancer. He was impressing my friend Kate with his moves last weekend. I was super happy they played Gangnam Style because he loves it and rocks the hell out of that song.

My own love of dancing started young. There are some home videos of my parents playing Paula Abdul songs and me prancing about the living room at like 3 or 4 years old (my brother is also there shaking his diaper butt around a little. It’s pretty funny). I spent half my young years begging my parents to let me take ballet, and finally my friends and I were enrolled at a studio.

None of us were particularly good at that point. I kept with it for a few more years though, dreaming of someday becoming a famous ballerina like my teacher. My dad built me a barre so I could do my stretches and exercises at home. I made gradual progress, as evidenced by my yearly role in the Nutcracker. I started with super small things like the angels behind the Sugar Plum Fairy, a party guest, to mouse, and eventually I was one of the dolls at the party that dances around after it’s wound up. The doll was my favorite. Plus, I was an adorable doll. No, really!

That's me!

However that year my instructor determined I was ready to move to toe shoes and start taking classes basically every day with the more serious students, and I promptly quit. This is actually one of my worst traits; I do tend to quit when things get too hard (this also happened with piano, trumpet, soccer, cheerleading, and god knows what else). After that I took a year of jazz, and then stopped dancing altogether. 

I was ecstatic in middle school when they started holding school dances. My main motivation to move up to high school was the fact that they had dances more often. Everyone else worried about who they were going with and what they were going to wear. I could care less. Honestly I preferred going by myself so I didn’t have to deal with someone the entire evening. Same thing when I turned 21: I was more excited about going to bars to dance than I was about the ability to drink legally. You know that Dane Cook spiel about women going to bars and dancing around their shoes in a circle going “I just wanna dance!” Yeah, that’s totally me.

Now some people have taken this to mean I would enjoy things like going to salsa or swing dancing. Since you don’t know until you try, I have gone to salsa once or twice, and I hate it. Basically it comes down to the problem that I don’t really like dancing with people, and I especially hate dances where someone else is in charge and directing me around. One of my friends claims this is an example of my “control issues,” but I’m not even going to designate that nonsense with a response. I don’t particularly like grinding for the same reasons (not to mention that basically it’s a random person attacking me with their crotch for an extended amount of time, but to music. I don’t see how that makes it better).

My typical Saturday morning

What do I like? I like dancing at bars, weddings, around my house in my underwear, or hell, anywhere that has music playing. I’ll dance in the middle of the store. I’ll dance about in the living room at a house party while everyone stares at me like I’m a lunatic. You know that knee injury I mentioned? Well, this time around it was from jazzercise, but the initial injury was actually back in November, dancing like a madwoman at the office party!

I can’t say I dance particularly well. I dance what I feel, and it’s not super awesome or snazzy. Half the time I feel like I’m really dancing to the wrong beat, or at least not the same beat everyone else is moving to. I mainly dance with my hips, and there have been implications in the past (and outright statements) that I dance like a stripper, but I don’t really see it.

But the best thing is, I don’t even care. You know that quote to “dance like nobody’s watching?” That’s what I do. I dance pretty much the same when I’m in my apartment baking as when I’m out at the bar. If someone offered to teach me to “dance well” I’d probably ignore them, because I have fun the way I dance and it doesn’t matter to me how it appears to other people. I don’t want to think about it, I just want to do it.

This is probably why I love dancing so much.  With everything else in life I am constantly worrying about what other people think and if they’re judging me. When it comes to dancing, I’m honestly have a “to hell with it” attitude, and that’s amazing. Now if only I could apply that to other areas of my life, I’d be set!

Hearing Is Believing

Which would you rather be, blind or deaf?

I remember when we used to play those sort of games when I was younger.  It’s very similar to Shag, Marry, Push Off a Cliff, but a little more morbid. I’m pretty sure I said I’d rather be deaf, and I’m sticking to that answer. Mainly because I’m highly imaginative and if I couldn’t see I’d be constantly interpreting noises in a weird, panic-inducing manner.

At its heart, the question is asking if you are more audio or visual focused. Some of you may have taken tests before to see which way you learn best. For a long time there was this assumption that men were more stimulated by visuals than women. I heartily disagree. I’m not going to go on a long rant of why this is/isn’t true. All I’ll say is check out this video and see if you don’t get some “stimulation.”

Anyway, I’ve always eschewed audio books. When I listen to a lot of talking I zone it out. It doesn’t feel concrete. I can’t remember what they’re talking about or what happened. If I see that same information in writing it’s far easier for me to remember.  I have the same problem with songs. I pretty much never know the lyrics. I can memorize the music pretty quickly, but unless I actually look up the lyrics or see them written down somewhere I’m going to forget them (or remember them completely wrong. I’ve been called out on that multiple times). This has led me to assume that I’m more visually dependent.

So imagine my surprise today when I realized that I generally recognize actors not based on their looks, but their voices. Here’s how it went:

Stardust is on tv (I got really excited about that, which is ridiculous since I own it on DVD) and of course I had to turn it on. I’m watching the first few scenes, waiting for Septimus to show up (he’s my favorite) and only half paying attention as I walk around the living room (I haven’t hit 10,000 steps yet today). Tristan and Humphrey are talking and I get horribly confused, because I keep thinking Henry Cavill is talking. Man of Steel was on at the same time, so I thought maybe I had turned that on without realizing it (I am constantly worried that I am doing things and immediately forgetting them).

It turns out Henry Cavill is in Stardust! I would absolutely never have guessed that Humprey (see left) and Clark Kent (see right) are played by the same guy. My mind has just been blown.

That video above? That actor plays the Hound in Game of Thrones. If someone hadn’t told me that I guarantee I wouldn’t have figured it out, but maybe that’s because he’s not saying anything in that commercial. The same thing actually happened back in the day with the actor that plays Septimus in Stardust. He’s also in Sherlock Holmes, and it was the voice that I recognized. Of course, his voice is very sexy and distinctive, so that could be part of it.

Basically this all feeds in to my secret fear that I do not recognize faces well. Did you know there’s actually a condition where people cannot recognize faces? It was in this one super freaky book I read involving brain manipulation. Clearly, I don’t have that, but I always feel like I utterly fail at recognizing people. I thought that the fact that I could generally pick an actor out proved I had some recognition capacity, but I think it’s actually a combination of voice and movement. The face doesn’t really come into play.

Maybe I’m overthinking it. So far I’ve made it through life without any major problems. And if we're going to play 'what if' type of games, I say: push Humphry off the cliff, marry Clark Kent, and shag Septimus. 

Getting to Know You

My friend (/coworker/mentor/secret twin) Erin commented recently with her own version of the Relatively Short Questionnaire. We discussed it in more depth, as I actually was unfamiliar with the Traveling Wilburys. I had to google it, and then I was like “why didn’t I know this??” (story of my life).

And this brought up a discussion about other get-to-know-you type questions. Erin’s questions involve a lot of music. I can totally see this. Erin is very music-chic. One of her superpowers is being able to make you the perfect mixed tape/CD. She demonstrated this by making me country mixes when I decided to move to Texas. I HATED country music. It was the only type of music I was passionately against. That is, until I listened to Erin’s CDs!

I, however, go to great lengths to avoid music questions. Both asking them, and answering.

It’s not that I don’t like music. I do! In fact one of the reasons I don’t mind long drives is that I can plug in my iPod and jam out for hours.

But as I've said before, I’m weird about music. First of all, in general I cannot correctly identify artists or songs to save my life. I recognize the music. In fact, I’m good at recognizing even things played really low that other people can’t hear. But ask me to name a song or artist and I’ll just stare at you blankly before spouting random answers. This doesn’t just apply to things playing on the radio. I do the same with stuff on my iPod.

Additionally, my taste in music is just weird, as is the way I prefer to listen to it. I couldn’t deal with the radio for years, so I would make CDs for myself. As my brother often says, if the artists on my CDs heard the whole thing and specifically the songs before/after their song, they might kill me. I like variety. So a CD might start with a pop song, then go rock, rap, random Japanese song… you get the picture.

This is why I can’t function listening to just one radio station. Even the ones that pride themselves on “variety” aren’t varied enough for my tastes. It took me awhile to get into Pandora for the same reason. The only way I could get Pandora to work for me was to create 6 different stations (Blackest Eyes, Stitches, Untouched, Undisclosed Desires, Volbeat, E.T.) which I play on shuffle. Oh and did I mention that I also added random songs to those stations? So for example my “Undisclosed Desires” station (great track by Muse!) also has seed songs like “Dirty Dancer” and “Still Alive.” This is the only way I can get a proper mix, and I still find myself frequently disliking songs (no matter how many times you try Pandora, I will still HATE “Wonderwall”).

For years I couldn’t even answer the most common music questions, like “what’s your favorite band?” I didn’t have one! There are very few bands/artists where I enjoy the majority of their work. Typically I pick and choose which songs I like. This is one reason why I love the advent of the Apple music store. Thank goodness I no longer have to buy a whole CD, I can just buy a song or two.  And let’s not even talk about how now that I finally have a favorite band, they disbanded and there have been all sorts of legal battles over who will continue, who can use the name… ugh.

You have no idea how many times I've watched this

So what kind of get-to-know-you questions do I like to ask? Well about my other favorite neek interests – movies and tv. Who’s your favorite Mighty Morphin Power Ranger? What was your favorite cartoon growing up?  Star Trek or Star Wars? Ya know, the common ones.

The problem I’ve found is what to do with those answers. Shared interests do not mean compatibility. I have found this over and over again. I’m not just talking about dating either. It’s the same for friends.

I’ve tried opposites, I’ve tried same-to-the-point-of-being-clones. I think there needs to be a balance, but I’m not sure what the perfect formula is, if there is one. Something like

28% same favorite movies

15 % different music tastes

7 % food arguments

34 % same sense of humor

11 % dissimilar upbringings

= <3?

Sure doesn’t equal 100%

But regardless I think I like get-to-know-you questions because I can judge people based on their answers. Not that the answers are right or wrong, but I can still judge. You like the original BLUE RANGER?? Really?! Your favorite cartoon was Ren & Stimpy?? Over wonderful 90s classics like Doug and Hey Arnold! Yes, I’m judging you now.

For the record, the green/white ranger was my favorite, and while it’s a tough pick, overall I think The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest was my favorite cartoon. After all, it’s the only one I woke up at freaking 7 AM to watch before school.

Steal My Sunshine

Happy Father’s Day to all the proud papas of the world!

When I think of my mother, I think of movies we watch together. Probably because my mother is one of those people that frequently talks during movies (“what’s happening? Why did they just go in the creepy building!? What do I know that actor from?”). If she wasn’t so adorable I’d be afraid to take her out to see movies in public. But when I think of my dad, I always think of music.

I’m a little weird on music. I grew up listening to my dad’s music, so I was probably the only 6 year old running around singing Pink Floyd and George Michael. Mixed in with that was some Paula Abdul, which I particularly loved. I have no idea why my father had this CD, but I’d make him play Forever Your Girl over and over again, belting out each song. I liked it much better than some of his other music, like The Alan Parsons Project.

My dad seems to have my same strange trend in music choices. Not that we always like the same things, but just that we have very eclectic tastes. I already mentioned that he liked Paula Abdul. Well when I was 11 he got the Shania Twain CD. We listened to that CD so many times as he drove me to school…. And just to make sure you get the full mental picture, we’d go in his miata convertible, top down, my hair blowing in the breeze, me singing my little heart out as usual… yeah, I’m sure it was a bit of a strange sight. In fact Shania Twain songs remind me so much of my father, that for a while I had That Don’t Impress Me Much as his ringtone. Initially I had it set to Man! I Feel Like a Woman, but my mother protested.

After that I started to find music of my own, but my daddy was more than willing to add it to our car tunes during road trips. Which is how we ended up listening to Backstreet Boys and Spice Girls countless times. It takes a special kind of man to listen straight through 2 Spice Girls CDs without going insane on the preteen girl next to him, hogging the front seat of the car as usual.

But the song that absolutely stands out in my mind when I think of my father, is Steal My Sunshine.

SEE!

Generally I think my dad’s genes made my mom’s genes their bitch, as I am remarkably like my dad in looks, skills, temperament… you name it. In fact when I dress up as a guy (for themed parties or events!) I could be his younger doppelgänger if my head was just slightly more round. My brother is the opposite. He takes way more after my mother, although his personality is the exact same as my dad’s.

This drove me insane when I was a teenager, for various reasons. One being that I absolutely hated having brown hair & eyes. And I don’t even have exciting shades of brown for either one. No, I’m like absolutely middle-of-the-road-completely-average boring. This gave me a lot of self-esteem issues.

The other problem was that where I had been a happy child, I was an ANGRY teenager. Yeah, yeah, I know everyone has teenage angst, but it was waaaaaaaay exaggerated for me because my parents moved us around the same time. I was angry. I was bitter. I was withdrawn. I was an evil devilspawn that any second might go off and make you fear for your life.

My poor mother actually bore the brunt of my evilness, but I think my father, sharing my temperament, understood it better.

So when I became angry and withdrawn, my father revealed that he had gone through the same thing, and believe it or not it would get better. Of course I didn’t believe him, so he would use any occasion to give me helpful little tips to get me through it.

The one that really sunk in was when I was watching the Steal My Sunshine video on MTV. Ya know, back when they actually played music videos the majority of the time. I was sitting there watching it, probably pouting as usual, (as I’ve said, it’s like my default response to life), and Dad came up behind me.

“Look at that girl, and how she smiles all the time. Do you see how much prettier she is when she smiles? Why don’t you try that?”

Simple words, but it was a lightening strike. I won’t say overnight I stopped being completely horrible to my poor parents, but those words sunk in.

Every parent contributes in some way to their child, whether genetics, learned traits, or morals. When we become adults, we have more opportunity to choose our own paths that take us away from what we learned. But I have based my life off those words.

Because it wasn’t really about being “prettier.” My dad’s a smart man. He said what would grab my attention. It’s about being happy. It’s about your outlook on life. I was choosing to mope, to be miserable. I could just as easily choose to be happy. I could make the best of a bad situation. And that’s what I’ve decided to do.

So now, I am actually known for my smile. I am known for being happy, perky, adorable… you get the picture. And honestly it’s not that I’m happy all the time. It’s because when I get stressed, after a little internal freak out, I breathe and remember those words. And then I smile, because I choose to do so.

My daddy is amazing, and I love him. But when I think of him what comes to my mind first is not all the times of the past when he demonstrated his awesomeness, but the fact I know my future will be a bright one, because he taught me how to make it happen.