Four Years.

On August 1st, 2006 I moved from Pennsylvania to Texas with very few possessions and very little money. I initially figured I would stay in Houston for (at most) three months, then head back to the Keystone State.

Four years later, I'm happy to report that I'm still here--and couldn't be happier about it. A lot has happened over the last four years: I got a great teaching job, performed with four different dance companies, and had my own dance ensemble for three seasons. I've also worked as a model, taught early-childhood music, and [briefly] ran my own "Baby Ballet" business. I had been fearful about moving 1,600 miles away from my family/my friends/everything I knew... but four years later, I can honestly say I made the right choice.

(If you haven't heard the story about how I came to Houston in the first place, you can read about it here.)

Happy "Houston Birthday" to me.

Three years: 08.01.2006

Now this is a story all about how

my life got flipped, turned upside-down

if you'd like to take a minute, just sit on down;

I'll tell you all about how i became the dancing blogette of H-Town.

In Northest PA, born and raised,

in the studio is where I spent most of my days.

Chilling out, maxin', relaxing, all cool

and doing some ballet outside of the school....

...when one day Irealized, my career was up to no good,

I couldn't make a living dancing in my neighborhood.

I went online and posted an ad, saying

"I'm looking for a dance job, somewhere that's rad...."

....and the rest, as they say, is history. Thank you, Houston, for a wonderful three years. I hope we have many more together.

P.S. I'm really, really sorry about the Fresh-Prince rhyme. I just could not resist.

Dancer/Foodie Post, Part Two: Let's Have Snacks

I figured it was time for another one of these, this time on the topic of things I snack on during my dance day.

Seedy things that drive you nuts: A lot of people ask how I get my protein, since I don't eat meat. My new favorite answer to this: seeds. A packet of David's Brand pumpkin seeds has five grams of protein and only ninety calories, and they're yummy. A packet of sunflower seeds (Frito Lay) has about the same calorie/protein ratio as a serving of peanut butter: 190 calories, 7 grams of protein. The upside to keeping seeds around is that I also own a family of small animals, so I use the seeds as a special treat when I'm training them (the downside is that when I open a packet for myself, there are suddenly several pairs of teeny tiny eyes staring at me). Be sure you drink water with these guys, though-- they are quite salty.
Other protein sources you can't go wrong with: Almonds, pistachios, peanut butter on wheat crackers.

Soup: Another new favorite of mine. It's quick and it's easy. Tomato soup is my favorite-- low calories, the least amount of fuss involved. I stick to soups made with a vegtable-based broth and stay away from anything with "Cream of" in the title-- "Cream of"s have lots of calories and fat and they feel like a brick in your stomach.
Depending on how strict you are with your vegetarianism, you can get away with some other types of veggie-based soups. I'm a fairly laid-back vegg, and I have no problem ordering a bowl of chicken noodle soup and fishing out the chicken. Healthy Choice makes a delicious chicken and rice soup, and the chicken comes in big enough chunks that it's super-easy to eat around.

Drink! Drink! Drink! Drink!: Have you ever had one of those days where you're definitely not hungry, but you need to get some form of nutrients in your system so you won't pass out? I have. And I'll tell you: In those cases, juices are a good way to go. If you choose your juices wisely, you cn get nutrients, calorie,s and a bunch of vitamins!
Two things to remember when drinking juices: Be careful about how much you drink in one go (a 14-once bottle can have between 200 and 300 calories), and make sure what you're drinking is actually juice; as opposed to a bottle of artificial flavoring and sugar.

On the subject of juices, here's a list of my recommendations:
~ R.W. Knudsen Low Sodium Veggie Juice, OR V8 Low Sodium Vegetable juice: Knudsen's is my favorite, but it's a little hard to find. But since I've got a V8 sitting next to me, I can tell you that an 11-once can has 2 servings of veggies, 70 calories, and 3 grams of protein.
~ Welch's 100% Grape Juice: It has no added sugar (just the naturally-occuring fruit sugar) and a lot of vitamin C to boot.

(I think Welch's also makes 100% Grapefruit juice as well, if you're the kind who likes grapefruit. Which I do not. Can any grapefruit-juice fans weigh in on this? Help?)

~ Orange juice: Tropicana is best: you can choose your preferred level of pulp, they make a version with extra calcium, and they taste excellent.
When all else fails and you need sugar, lots of it, like NOW: Oh, COME ON, we've all had those days, the ones where you have to eat something truly awful to get through the last hour of rehearsal. And as I told you last time, I'm no nutritionist, and I like sour patch kids. In addition to giving me a quick sugar boost, they make me really happy (I only need to pop one or two, and I'm good to go for another several hours! Whee)
Now I'm hungry. See you guys later!

*Image from hesedetang over at flickr-- her pictures are adorable!*

An achy barre-side conversation at 8:30 a.m.

Dancers are frequently told: "Listen To Your Body."

We aren't told that if you "listen to your body" when you're sore & warming up for a nine a.m. rehearsal, you will hear a lot of whining. Take a look:

(During plies)
KNEE: Snap.
HIP: Pop. POP. Wow, that felt good.
(Forward cambre)
HAMSTRINGS: No.
SPINE: Hey, can we skip the cambre back for now, and stay down for here a second? It feels good. I'm not ready to bend the other way yet.
HAMSTRINGS: No!!
BRAIN: Sure.
HAMSTRINGS: I hate you all.

(during a series of quick eleves)
ARCHES: Dead pointe shoe alert! Dead pointe shoe alert!
CALVES: Um, wow, hey. Dude. We are SO not ready for that yet.
BRAIN: Oh. Sorry.
(calf stretch)
CALVES. Thanks!
ARCHES: Yo, can we do something about this dead- shoe situation here?
BRAIN: They aren't THAT dead. They've got, like, an entire class left in them. You can at least make it to the end of barre work, Captain Fussypants.

(later)
ENTIRE LOWER HALF: Why. The hell. Did you think it would be smart. TO RUN THREE MILES yesterday.
BRAIN: Sorry.
ENTIRE LOWER HALF: I dunno if you've noticed, but we are not runners. WE HURT.
BRAIN: I said I'm sorry! And admit it, we really needed that run.
TOES: Cramp!
TOES: Cramp some more!
ARCHES: Hey, Toes are cramping up big-time, maybe we --
BRAIN: Yes I KNOW.
ARCHES: I'm just saying... you know... maybe we should ditch the pointe shoes.
BRAIN: Maybe you should suck it up.
ARCHES:
BRAIN: ZING.

(Barre stretch)
HIP: Pop!
HAMSTRINGS: Holy damn, woman, WHAT PART OF "NO" DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?
BRAIN: You know, you will feel a million times better IF YOU JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME STRETCH YOU.
HAMSTRINGS: But I'm so sorrrrrrrre.
EVERYONE ELSE: So are we!
BRAIN: You buggers are whiny today.

List-o-mania: Weird Injuries and Alternate Monikers

Weird Ways to Hurt Oneself While Dancing:

1. Crushing a Knuckle. Yesterday I was doing a forward roll out of a headstand in rehearsal for Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. No big, done it many many many times in the past without incident-- except for last night, which was the one time I neglected to move my hands in time. Yeowza.

2. Bruising. Oh, this one's a no-brainer. My current bruise count is at 10-- most are on the lower part of my left leg, but I also have two on my ribcage, one on my hipbone, and one in a place you don't get to see unless you buy me dinner first. However, the best was when I got armpit bruises (yes, armpit. Bruises!) last season. It was worth it, though-- I'd do those ballets again in a heartbeat, bruises or not.

3. Stomach-jamming. If you go into a "bluebird" lift with too much gusto and not quite the correct angle, your stomach will be lodged behind your left lung for a week.

4. Unidentified debris in eyeballs. I don't know how to properly explain this, other than that "kicking up the dust" can be applied literally when people are dancing vigorously. Something ended up in my eye somewhere in the course of our pas de deux today, and I haven't been able to get my contact lenses back in since.

Nicknames I've Been Addressed By In The Last Week:

1. Little Missy
2. Little Miss Muffet
3. Little Miss Sunshine
4. Mary Sunshine
5. Mini Cooper (my favorite!)

I love it. If I were being called, say, "Little Miss Assmunch" I'd be concerned, but who doesn't want to be "Little Miss Sunshine?" Although since there seems to be a running theme, I'm wondering if I should change my blog name to "Little Miss [Something]." Input?

Also, the dance company has a show in two weeks. I'd encourage you to come see it, but I don't want you guys to stalk me, so....go see every dance show in Houston that takes place two weeks from now, fill up your dance-tank, and inadvertently watch me dance. Then again, I only have one stalker that I know of, and she knows where I dance anyway. Also, you are all dead to me if you don't go see this.

Peace out, y'all,
~ L. M. [Something]

Butterfly's Ultimate Dancer/Foodie Post

Alternate Title: The Food Article That You Will Never See In Any Proper Dance Publication Or Blog, Anywhere, Ever.

This is list of vegetarian and easy-to-prepare dancer foods that I love. But keep this in mind: I'm not a nutritionist or or a chef, just a dance lady who likes munchies; so read this with a grain of salt.

1. The Ultimate Breakfast of Champions: Two Morning Star Veggie Sausage Links wrapped in two slices fat-free American Cheese (I use Kraft American Singles) and a whole-wheat tortilla (Mission's Carb Balance tortillas work best). It's ready in under two microwave minutes (I recommend nuking the links for about a minute, then adding the tortilla with the cheese slices for another 20 seconds); and it has twenty-three grams of protein. I swear by it. Special thanks to my awesome partner-in-crime for introducing me to this. Thanks, buddy!

2. The Saturday Breakfast of Champions: You ate healthy-like all week; ya gotta let loose on the weekends. The perfect start to a Saturday of ballet lessons and Nutcracker rehearsals? Hash browns and orange juice. For extra white-trash credit, you can substitute the hash browns for tater tots. This travels well....which is great if, say, you have to drive between Houston and Katy and Sugar Land and then back to Houston.

3. How to have a big ol- greasy hamburger that is not greasy nor a hamburger: This is a great for post-rehearsal light lunch: A vegan "burger" (veggie patty) on a warm sugar-free whole-grain bun with a slice of melted cheese (skip that one if you're vegan). And ketchup. Lots and lots of ketchup. If you think you have enough ketchup, put a little more on just to be safe (Hey, I'm from the northeast, where we're raised to appreciate Heinz). Delicious? Hell yes. Atery-clogging? I wouldn't worry.

4. Eating for student matinee performances: You know, the kind where you're at the theater and doing plies by 8am? For breakfast, I prefer can of red bull and a cigarette. Heh. A bunch of nutritionists and health-nuts are now trying to track down my address so they can beat me senseless for that one, so here's my explanation: I'm one of those people who can't really eat before performing, and in the thick of performance week I really don't have the time or energy to think much more about it. PROTIP: If you like to brush your teeth/use mouthwash as part of your pre-show ritual, you might want to wait a few minutes before you take a sip of your Red Bull. Trust me, I learned this one the hard way.

Most people usually want a pick-me-up between performances, so I recommend a light granola bar or energy bar. My personal favorite? Nature's Market Hemp Plus Chewy Granola Bars, especially the ones made with cranberries. So good, you kind of forget they're healthy. I also keep B12 Vitamins or Redline Power Shots handy in case we're really dragging.

Post-matinee, I tend to stick with an all-organic vegetarian burrito or that non-greasy non-cheeseburger I mention. Except for....

...5. Closing Night Post-Performance Food Fest: If you and your cronies have at least a full day before you have to put on a leotard/a tutu/body paint, this is when everybody goes on al all-out feeding frenzy. Here in Houston, we like Tex-Mex (my fellow dancers and are fans of La Tapitia). My recommendation? Frozen Strawberry margarita and cheese enchiladas. When the shows are over, everyone deserve a little greasy carb-laden indulgence. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

6. One last thing: Veggie Corn dogs are God's gift to hungover people.

Anyway, since there are now a bunch of nutritionists and personal trainer-types rioting outside my window, I better boogie. Have a great Sunday, y'all!

Restless Leg Syndrome

Dear Legs,

You seriously need to chill out. You’ve had your fun for the day—we danced for a grand total of seven hours, plus you got to go for a run on the treadmill. The rest of us here are tired, and you and your buddies Feet are keeping us awake because you refuse to settle down.

Allow me to remind you two that you’ve had more than your share of activity in the last few weeks—more than anybody else, in fact. I’m sure Hands wanted to do more writing today; but they quietly gave it up so that you guys could carry us through an extra rehearsal. You don’t see THEM shaking and twirling around with Wrists and making Fingers twitch all over the place.

I don’t even want to finish this letter, because I’m tired—no, I’m exhausted; we all are. We’re done dancing for the day. We kindly ask that you follow suit so we can all get some damn sleep.

And if you don’t, I’m sending Hands down there with a tire iron. You might want to warn Shins.

Sincerely,

Brain

Ten things I learned as a rookie dance ensemble director

1. If you can't sleep the night before your show, but you're dying to get at least a few hours before you need to be up and at the barre-- take a sleeping pill. Do not chug over half a bottle of wine by yourself. This is a bad idea. I learned this.
2. You will feel exhausted in the class the morning of your show. Especially if you only had three hours of sleep, and those were only made possible by copious amounts of chardonnay.
3. Editing music can be frustrating.
4. It is not, however, nearly as frustrating as editing film.
5. Your fiancées/husband/domestic partner may mean well, but their attempts to "help" you are going to give you a fervent desire to duct-tape them to the chimney.
6. If you need to get anything done the night before the show, your significant other should expect to be sleeping on the couch. In the garage. Next door.
7. Sleep is really not that important.
8. If you have any sort of solo work or variation in your concert-- it's creation will be an afterthought. Your priorities lie with the dancers, the ensemble pieces, and the production details; rehearsing/choreographing your variation "later" usually translates to "a few hours before curtain."
9. You are far less nervous when you have work by other choreographers in the show. All you, all terrifying; you and some other 'graphers? Share the nerves.
10. As soon as its over, you'll want to do it again. And again. And again.

Because sometimes you need to let loose and blow off some dance-overload-related steam: The Center Stage Drinking Game™

Every time you notice a body double dancing in place of the regular actor (e.g Susan May Pratt)-- take a drink.

Every time a "ballet stereotype" is first introduced in the movie (e.g gay boy, stage mother, stuck up "star student" or nice-girl "renegade" student)-- take a drink.

You hear a line that's been quoted ad nauseam (such as "Whatever you feel, just dance it!)-- do a shot.

If a line like the one above made you swoon when -you- were a young (I was a teen when the movie was released, and yes, I was all over it)-- do another shot.

If you can get up and do the Four Swans choreography during that part of the film (without falling over)-- everyone else takes a drink.

Take a drink for every time you've choreographed to "Higher Ground" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

Any of the scenes where you scoff and say "Yeah, like THAT really happens," take a drink.

If you are still standing at the end of the movie, congratulations! The National Legion of Stressed Out Dance Professionals salutes you. :-)

P.S. You may want to drink a lot of water/take a chaser-- crunch-time performance preparations don't bode well with hangovers.

"Yes dear, I'm in rehearsal!"

You've all seen those adorable dancer couples, like Irina Dvorovenko and Maxim Beloserkovsky or the married former-partners who go on to open their own ballroom school/ballet center/dance company together after dancing around the globe. Committed to a lifetime of dancey-ness. It all sounds so fairytale, doesn't it?

However, that isn't the norm, and those of us in relationships with non-dancers have to train our partners on the concept of Dance Hours.

It's hard for some non-dancers (coughcoughmencough) to get used to the idea that wifeykins works the permanent Split Shift; rising every morning to be at the barre by nine-thirty, with a 2-3 hour break in the middle of the day before working-- no, not nine to five, five to nine.

(At noon) "Did you stay home from work today?"
"No, I've been to work. And I'm fixing to go back out to work."

By the way, non-dancers, when your dancing significant other says anything regarding "Tech Week," that means you will not see him/her for five days, at least. Do not even try. Unless, of course, you are coming to the theater to bring them more coffee as Dress/Tech stretches until the eleventh hour. In which case, hand over the coffee and run. You don't want to stick around at these things.

Perhaps Dance Teacher Hours are the hardest for our offstage partners to comprehend. If you teach dance, you've probably found yourself making a record of "Yes, dear, I'll be home after nine. Just like last night. And the night before" to save your breath. Or maybe your outgoing voicemail says "Hi, you've reached Marilyn. If this is Jonathan, we can't have dinner tonight, wait until Thursday. Otherwise, please leave a message!"

I suspect that the primary reason for this is that (provided your partner is male) men are in denial about having to make their own dinner. Am I right?

Also, non- dancers take note: Just because we finish work at 9pm does not mean we're automatically ready to go out on the town. The appropriate question before anything else is "Do you have class in the morning?" If we answer affirmatively, pub crawling will have to wait.

I think it's getting a little better, though. I was preparing for my 4:30 class the other day when, at 4:00, my phone started ringing.*
"What's up, I'm at w--"
"Oh, right! Call me later. Te amo." Click.

Perhaps Mr. Butterfly is finally getting the hang of "dance hours."


* I'd take to take this opportunity to state that I just got a Stravinsky ringtone ("Rite of Spring XIV" performed by Chicago Symphony Orchestra). I cannot explain how seriously awesome that is. Hand me my nerd license now, plzkthx.

I think it's time for a publicity stunt.

In response to an article on My Dance Place, dance writer Lindsay Live writes:
"The lack of mainstream publicity seems pretty obvious - the MSM is concerned with selling headlines. Even "respected" sources are beginning to resemble tabloids. Why? Because "Britney Spears Has Nervous Breakdown" is bound to outsell "Boston Ballet Faces Financial Crisis." As sad as it may be to us writers, the nasty truth is that sensationalism trumps content."
- Quote courtesy of Lindsay Dreyer, DancerUniverse.Com

As sad of a truth it is, perhaps there's a lesson here: If XYZ Dance Company is having financial trouble, should director of XYZ should have a highly-public mental breakdown? Even if all that makes headlines are stories about their public Case o' The Crazies, by now we've all learned that interesting personal lives sell lots of tickets. Recall TomKat, Brangelina, and all those other irritating portmanteaus that were attached to very high-grossing box office hits. And hey...bad press is better than no press at all, right? ;-)

Am I being sarcastic? Well, maybe. Okay, yes (I stayed home sick today, and am starting to go a little crazy from being cooped up in here). But you see my point. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to marry a complete stranger, dump them in favor of an entirely different person (preferably a famous rapper or a Greek shipping heir), and get a few DUIs while I'm at it. We are going to SELL OUT our next show

(Actually, I'm going back to sleep. Who gets sick during the summertime? Not fair. Also, my apologies to Lindsay Live for involving her writing in one of my diatribes.)

Quick disclaimer with respect to the Boston Ballet: They were mentioned in Ms. Dreyer's original quotation, but I want to make it clear that I'm in no way suggesting that anyone from BB's artistic staff or company should go all Hollywood-Hellion as suggested in my post. It should be noted that I am incredibly sarcastic/a goofball and that Boston Ballet (under the current artistic director of Mikko Nissinen) is a wonderful company, one that I certainly don't wish to offend.

So much for the euphoria

Typically, most dancers who've just finished a successful major performance like to take a day or so to bask in the Yay-We-Did-It afterglow. I, however, have this track record of finishing a successful major performance and having to immediately blow town hours later. It's a cruel joke of timing, really: the curtain has barely closed when you find yourself sitting on a plane with blisters all over your feet and glitter still in your hair.

Cases in point: June 2004, my first performance with a professional company (see below); the next morning I'm driving to New York City to spend a month at the Taylor School. December 2006, I finish dancing the role of the Sugar Plum Fairy in Pennsylvania eight hours before I have to board a flight back to Houston. Two days ago, my company performs in the Mountain Dance Concert (I perform with my company and with PADV); six hours later all six of us pile into the van and traipse back to the airport.

I'm fully aware that dividing your time between multiple states means you're going to be in a hurry more often than not, but once in a while I'd like a full day to rest and reflect on the finished performances-- preferably not while waiting in line at airport security.

Things that don't change

In many ways, my life is the same as it was four years ago, when I was a senior in high school. I am at the barre every morning, I dance the repertoire of a professional company, I teach ballet, and I create my own ballets.

Back then, I was in ballet class at LVPA by 8am (or at the K. Magyar School of Dance in the afternoons), I had just started as a Junior Apprentice to the PA Dance Vision Repertory Ensemble; I taught one class at a dance studio in the slate-mining town of Nazareth and was creating my own work at school, at the studio, and in Dance Dynamics (which I would later direct).


Now, even though time has passed and the places are different, the ritual is the same: I'm in ballet class every day (be it open class, company class, or jumping into a class at the studio where I teach), juggle dancing with two companies, teach a small battery of classes at a studio outside the city, and I create my own work both at that studio and in my own small chamber ballet. These days I live alone in the city where I dance; three months after finishing school I lived alone in the small mountain town where the dance company resided. I didn't sleep much back then, and I still don't; but my laundry will always be comprised of more leotards and tights than anything else. It's comforting to see that, despite all the ups and downs and changes in life, the general style of life is steadfast-- and joyful.