Sometimes I drink because then I can have a foggier brain and not think and I just want to forget and lose myself. I’m a lightweight. It doesn’t take much.

I wish I had a pack of cigarettes. But I know if I bought a pack I would smoke them, so instead I occasionally bum them off of coworkers. Smoked a couple last Thursday. Thoroughly enjoyed myself. Wish I had one now.

I feel alone. I am probably just over tired. I want someone to be with. How do I know if I am being stupid and silly about S? I have been asked out by 9 different guys in the past week… I am not tooting my own horn… I guess I’m finally turning into what guys want. And yes, I want to date. I want to be with someone. Do things. Make connections. But there is S. But he is in Europe. And we are not even together. But. I just feel alone. I know that is all it is. A coworker at L restaurant really likes me. I was not drawn to him immediately but I am finding myself thinking about him. I want to be with someone. Lonely minds wish for…

I wish for San Francisco.


I apologize for the lack of enthusiasm in recent (read: 1) post, but here is a place I can be negative or positive or neutral… here I can be anything. I don’t have to pretend and pretending is what I am doing for most of my days now.

Overall I am okay. I’m not desperately depressed, I know this isn’t my worst, but it is definitely not my best.

I just don’t feel like me anymore. I am not dancing, hardly dancing. I have no time. My days have been taken over by serving in restaurants and for some reason I don’t feel like I can keep my life on track right now.

I don’t know where September has gone. How is it already October 8th? My mum got married. But that passed in a blur. And then I got sick right afterwards and still worked everyday. I have been traveling to the Island every weekend for rehearsals on Sundays. Someone at work asked me when my Friday was. I don’t have a Friday. I don’t remember the last time I had a day off. July?

Monday: G restaurant
Tuesday: G restaurant
Wednesday: G restaurant
Thursday: G restaurant then L bar
Friday: grocery shop for roommate (this pays for rent) then L bar
Saturday: cook for roommate then travel to island
Sunday: rehearse then travel back to mainland
Monday: ….

I need time. I need time for me.

Overall everything is okay, well, G restaurant is not really okay, I am fed up with being spoken to as though I am an idiot, a pretty face with an empty head, a servant not a server. I am a person. How dare you speak to me, yell at me, disrespect me? I would not dare to be disrespectful to anyone, any animal, tree, bush, why do you treat me with disrespect? In the grand scheme of things, does it really fucking matter if your steak comes out 3 minutes late, that there is a tiny water mark on a knife, that there is a tiny miniscule dot on the white tablecloth? No, it doesn’t. Where is your sense of rationality? Where is your life? What is your purpose? My purpose is not to be subservient, to bow down to your command, to smile prettily and laugh and say, yes of course! right away! my goodness, I am so sorry!, and yet, here I am, doing just that. I am more than that. Perhaps I have an inflated ego, though I think not. Perhaps I think too highly of myself, though again, I think not. Perhaps I know how to value myself, when you do not. Perhaps I value my sense of self, my being, my soul, more than a few extra dollars at the end of the day. And don’t you dare make me feel bad about that. Is it always for the money? It’s all for the money, at this place, it’s all for the money. What about for the happiness? For the quality of life? For love and beauty and soul? Or is that not worth anything in this world that we live in?

Technology Rant.


Here goes.

Admittedly, she was drunk, however I think that an excuse not. To the lady who repeatedly took pictures of herself and her friends while there was an emergency situation happening in the bar and I was sternly ushering them out…. Good God.

Stop taking pictures of yourself. There is a lady passed out on our benches with an ambulance on the way. I am asking you to leave over and over again and yet you are taking photo after photo of your pretty little made up face with your annoying little friends. ‘Thank you, have a good night, I’ll take your drink for you,’ ‘Oh wait I’ll just finish it….!’ ‘No you won’t, good night.’

The paramedics come, take the lady away (she will be okay), and I look out our front window: you are still taking photos of yourself. I don’t understand.

What is the purpose?

To my good friends and my sister whom I love dearly:

Get off your phone. It is not the real world. I get annoyed being around you, ‘spending time’ with you (am I really? No, I’m spending time with you spending time with your phone) makes me frustrated and irritated and it isn’t boding well for our relationship. I don’t need to see the thirty photos taken by you of you, by others of you, that are photo shopped. You look beautiful. You always do. But you also look beautiful when you make a funny face, when you first wake up in the morning, when someone catches you candidly smiling at a joke someone made in the real world.

It’s hard to have a true conversation with you anymore. You might ask me questions and I will respond with integrity, thinking deeply about the answer I am giving you. I speak, there is a pause. I think you are mulling over my response. But no, I look at you and you are scrolling once more through your phone, perhaps an ‘mmhmm’ is given, but that is it. Oh! But when you want to speak or I ask you a question, you will speak and speak and I will listen. And get this: if I were to post on Facebook a little quip, or text you, or you me, a question, make contact with you in any way through technology — I get a proper response. I exist. I have entered your little bubble of a world and finally got your attention.

Where is real life now?

I admit to doing the same at times but I am getting much better at being less phone-facebook-instagram attached, and am happier for it. Yes, I am currently typing on my MacBook on the Interweb, about to post to people I do not know, so call me a hypocrite if you want, but know that if you were to ask me a question in person, in real life, face to face, you would get the same amount of integrity, honesty, presence, connection that is due anyone, let alone a piece of machinery.

How do you know if he is the one?

I’ve Changed

Life will always be unpredictable. For the most part, I am glad. I wouldn’t be satisfied with a predictable life. However, that doesn’t mean it is easy.

I’ve been training and dancing in San Francisco for two years now. That is a long time. It has flown by though. When I think about the Fall of my first year here…. feels like ages ago. I was so confident and … little. I lost a lot of that confidence and slowly built it up, in better ways. I feel like a different person.

Next step? I don’t know. I don’t know where I will be next year, or even in July really. I have nothing tying me down to ANYWHERE. I could go ANYWHERE I want to in this world. Pack up, move, travel. Granted, I really don’t have any money, but I could travel somewhere I could work, at least part time. What if I did? What if I went on an adventure? …. I hadn’t actually thought of that possibility until now. I was about to write about how nothing felt right, but also nothing felt wrong either. Everything — places to be and things to do next year or to begin feel neutral. I had such a strong feeling before moving to San Francisco. It felt so right. I knew it was right. But right now? I don’t know what feels right. I trust that something will come my way. It always does. I also know I am more than capable of making things work for myself. I have done it time and time again. So yes. I will be okay. It is the not knowing though, that is stressful. But then again, I’ve dealt with that before. I’ve not known much of what is about to happen before and doors always open, and they are always, generally, wonderful. So let me be excited instead. Let me be positive, excited, and ready for whatever will come next. Because I am. Every day I become stronger, more mature, more knowledgeable, more aware. That is one thing I have become much better at since being in San Francisco — being aware. And making different and smarter choices because of that awareness. I have more patience for people. I have more patience for myself. I have more perspective. I have more confidence. I have more love. I have more happiness. I have more to give and more desire to give and to receive and to learn and to teach and to share and to explore. I am so much more. I am so much more than I used to be. For that I am grateful.

35 trust with abandon just be real am i real

Not sure what to write but felt like I needed to create some words. I believe I’m just over tired.

Life is good right now. It’s good.


It is coming to a close here in San Francisco. Surprisingly I feel ready for the next step, although I don’t know what that step exactly is yet. Six months ago though, I would’ve told you I wasn’t ready to leave. I feel ready. Pretty neat, eh?

I’m dating someone. He’s sweet. He’s a scientist. Last night we had dinner and we cuddled on my bed for a while. The whole time we were together he was real with me. I find he can be distracted or perhaps not distracted, simply unable or not used to really connecting with people. My friend C and I were talking one day about how we often have men falling in love with us (and I do not say this in an egotistical manner, merely it happens and I find it bizarre). Anyways, we were talking about this and we think it is because both of us are real. We are honest. We are simply ourselves. There aren’t a lot of people like that in our world anymore. So many people are afraid to be themselves. Heck. I’m scared too but I can only be me so I will be me. Anyways, Scientist I am dating, he is very analytical, very practical. Different world than me. And I can tell he is often nervous or unsure, or, possibly??, intimidated around me (lord, intimidated!?) yet last night he was real. It was really really nice. He was a person. I like it when people are people. Just be.

This is a rambling post.

Talked with one of my teachers today. Told him about how I feel like there is a piece of plexiglass separating me from the rest of the world and I really feel it in my dancing. I just want my movement, my dancing, to be real. I just want to be real. I don’t feel real a lot of the time. He said it was normal. He said it was good I am questioning this. He said to trust with abandon. He also said that you’re not going to be the 35 year old dancer you want to be now. You’ll be that dancer when you are 35.

Now what?

I can’t do this anymore. I mean, I can, I know I can, and I will, but today, and yesterday, and several moments of several other days I can’t and I don’t want to.

I am flying back home on Tuesday to spend three days with a company I want to apprentice with next season. A few days ago, I felt capable of anything with my movement. I was proud of how much I have improved, how far I have come, how much I have learned and explored for myself. This week, I feel like shit. I can’t get my legs above 90 degrees. I can’t turn. I can’t balance. There is no artistry in my work. There is no individuality, no exploration, no sensation, texture, feeling, nothing unique, personal. Where is my spiral? Where is the intention? The presence? I’m just making shapes, if that. Didn’t even feel like I was making good shapes today. And I acted like an immature, sulky 13 year old in one of my classes. Grow up. JUST FUCKING GROW UP.

I need to be confident when I go take class next week. And why am I making such a big deal about this? (Because it matters a lot to me. Because I want it. Because I want recognition. Because I want something. I want a reward. I want acceptance. I want to be wanted, desired.) I was on a high when I got the email. I’m going to be nervous before, during, and probably after. Ok. Accepted. But why am I there? I am there to show them how I work. No. I am not there to show them anything. I am there to give myself a new experience. To give myself an opportunity to work in a new environment. To learn something new. To challenge my fears. To learn some new choreography and movement, to PLAY. To HAVE FUN. To DANCE. You’re going there to dance. Forget about everything else and dance. You know you can do this. You can dance. You are capable of doing this.

I also feel fat. I feel chunky, chubby, puffy, flabby. I have been going fairly consistently to the gym since mid January. People have told me my arms are more defined. One person (ex boyfriend) told me I had put on muscle. I didn’t want to put on muscle, I wanted to tone up. I realize I probably have put on muscle, but now I see my arms are huge. HUGE. Fucking huge. Thick, squishy. And despite doing a lot of abdominal work, outside of just dancing, with weights, and seeing an improvement in the beginning, I feel it is all now hidden underneath the flub that is called my body. I feel so fat. Yet how can I be fat when two weeks ago I felt great? I had awesome definition in my body. Have I really changed all that much in two weeks or is it just my head, like it usually is?

I want to see veins. I want to be small. I want to be the size I was six years ago. I want to be 92lbs, not 124lbs. I want to be underweight. I want people to stare at me and comment. I want stick legs and stick arms. I don’t care if I’m cold all the time and my hands are purple. I don’t care. I want just skin and muscle and bone.

I’ve been eating too much. I know I have. I don’t have a healthy relationship with food or with my body anymore. I am too obsessed with carbohydrates, sugar, salt. I have 1/3 cup ground turkey, some non-dairy cheese, and kale in the mornings, plus unsweetened cocoa powder, stevia, and hot water. Then the rest of the day varies. But I start off well. I have become addicted to tortilla chips. I used to be able to not eat any carbs at all — no chips, no rice, no quinoa. That’s a lie. I ate cereal. Nature’s Path Mesa Sunrise. A lot of cereal. And rice cakes. But that was it. Now I go crazy and crave tortilla chips, I’ll buy them and then I’ll eat half the bag in one sitting. I think I’ve begun to binge. And nut butters. Fuck. I’ve always loved nut butters, any kind, and I’ve always eaten them really fast; 1 jar 2 days. Literally. But I cannot control it. I’ve stolen from my roommate’s jars before, scraping carefully so that they can’t tell I’ve taken any. Nut butters. Tortilla chips. Hummous spoonful after spoonful. Dried fruit. Nuts. Sugar. Chocolate. Granola. I am never satisfied. I don’t even know what I want. I just want to be full. To feel satisfied but I don’t know how to do that anymore. I eat when I’m not hungry. I eat past being full. I cannot control it. All I ever want to do is eat and it’s working against me because I want to be thin. I was thinner last year, I swear. Why am I bigger? Why am I gaining weight? I know why I’m gaining weight, it’s pointless to ask why. I’m becoming more obsessed and focused on food and body image, which then when I restrict certain things makes me want to eat them even more to the point I can’t control it. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared to just eat normally again but I don’t even know what that means to me anymore. How do you eat normally while still trying to lower body fat percentage to show more muscle tone?

No sugar. Increases inflammation in the body and body fat.

No dairy. Increases inflammation in the body.

No carbs/less grains. Increases puffiness in body.

Less nut butter. Too much fat.


Fruit. There is so much sugar in it. But I need something.

Chocolate. Tortilla chips. Rice. Indian food. Pizza. Fuck. ANYTHING. I just want to feel full of something. I don’t know what I want.

I am lonely yet I only want to be alone. When someone wants to make plans with me I get anxious and scared and feel trapped. So I back out and come home alone.

.formspring me chickpeas.


November 2015
« Oct    


Join 13 other followers

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 13 other followers


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.