Help Wanted

I'm in need of a mentor.

Accepting applications now.



After-thought: This may be more effective on craigslist.

Ten Things About Amy - End of 2013 Edition

My cousin asked me to write 10 things about myself for a facebook thing going around. It took me months, but I finally wrote them and I want to share them here, as well.

1) With a few exceptions, I have an attention span of about three months for hobbies/interests. It's awesome and unfortunate at the same time.

2) I find joy in the little things. I just went out an bought a new tube of toothpaste and couldn't be more excited!

3) It's interesting how my ambitions have changed over the years. I used to dream big and hope to impact the world with some amazing idea or feat. However, now I just want to afford my own apartment and groceries. I'm not sure if that's failure or life.

4) I am into bodywork and oriental medicine. They have been instrumental in physical and psychological healing.

5) I live my life behind the trends. I'm completely ok with this, except that when I finally watch Breaking Bad, I won't have anyone to agonize with over the drama.

6) Laughing's my favorite! :-D

7) I can answer a phone like a boss.

8) There was a time when I lived by a rigid set of rules, where things were black and white, right and wrong. You could see that rigidness in my body, hear it in the way I spoke, and feel it when I walked into a room. Now, my life is much softer. I've broken "the rules." I laugh more. I don't paint things as black and white, but as blue, orange, yellow, etc. I'm open to more interpretations of the way life can be. I believe there is a time for rules and rigidness, especially when building a foundation. However, I've learned that there is also a time for expansion, and that one must grow out of the foundation in order to create, be, and live a life worthwhile. 

9) Once, I accidentally dropped a spoon down the garbage disposal while it was running and it now has an oddly-bent shape. It is my favorite dining utensil.

10) I value being healthy. I hope to figure out exactly what that means by the age of 75.

Switched-Race Alter Egos

My good friend Yvette is a black woman originally from D.C. She was telling me how she used to work at a call center and would adopt an alter ego in order to sell products. She imagined she was a little white blonde girl named Stevie and - after taking on this persona - she claimed to have had significantly more sales than she would have had otherwise. I thought this was hilarious, but admitted that I couldn't do the opposite - pretend to be a black woman on the phone.

"I don't know, Amy," she said. "Sometimes you get an attitude that reminds me of my aunts."
"Really..." I said. I thought this was cool. Part of me has secretly wished I was black...or anything other than white to be honest.
"What should my name be? Something like LaToya or LaKeisha..."
"LaKeisha!"

And so it was. Yvette and I now have alter egos that we enjoy pulling out at work every once in a while - Stevie and LaKeisha - and they are great friends. They bring much laughter into the office.

Emerging from the Life TaNgLe

I wish the idea of success being a tangled knot would emerge in media more often, and particularly in the context of finding your way. The fact that your car breaks down en route to New Awesome City and causes you stay in Nowheresville for a few months, or that What I Thought I Wanted Wasn't Actually It happens more than once would be nice to see.

Encouragement Can Lead To Inflation

When you talk to someone who shares in your excitement and does nothing but encourage you and offers links to your path, it does nothing but inflate your idealistic perception of reality. It's turned me into the figurative bride who walks into the most expensive part of the wedding dress shop.

My Creativity Needs Ideas

Just watched the Weezy Waiter on Youtube. People are creative. Here I am thinking about going back to school when I should just be creative. Damn. Shoot. 

We Hate The Stick

We have to use this shish-kabab skewer to measure the proportions of objects we draw. As the two other women at my table and I tried to replicate on our papers three different oddly-shaped, painted bottles, we realized that we didn't like the stick. You have to mark and count and estimate and involve math. We'd rather just draw what we see with our eye - even if the neck ends up twice as long as the body in our renderings. Paul told us to embrace the frustration, because it means our work will improve. In terms of my artistic aspirations, I guess my desire to break the stick into tiny piece shows progress?

Me and My Portfolio

I bought a professional portfolio to haul around my drawings in the elements and it came with a sense of confidence I didn't anticipate. All of sudden, I felt like a real artist...for no good reason. On one hand, I felt like I was becoming one those Amys I always wanted to be. Artists are some of the coolest people, in my opinion, and I admire their visual thinking - where I see words, they see pen strokes. On the other hand, I felt like a poser - albeit a badass artistic poser! My portfolio was empty - I had only just bought it - but I was ok to ride the facade for one night.

Fortune Cookies...Except In Tea Bags

Yogi Tea had the ingenius idea of spreading pearls of wisdom and inspiration through their tea bags. I drink this almost every day, and open the bag has become an event - I get a thrill opening the bag just to read the yogi wisdom inside. It's particularly encouraging when you feel like someone pressed the Pause button on your motivation and creativity. Some of my favorites include:

Your intuition is your best friend.

Chances multiply if you grab them.

I Decided That I Want Friends

And so I searched for ways to make instant friends that was friendly for my budget, time, and professional aspirations. After exhausting some possibilities throught MeetUp.com, I landed on toastmasters. I've been a part of toastmasters in the past and thought I would give it another shot. It's not entirely young-friend oriented, but I figured it would help me with my speaking skills and give me some kind of socialization, which I crave like a chain-smoker who wants a cigarette.

Cycles of Art

Some cultures believe history functions in cycles - we are bound to repeat what has been - while others believe we move in a linear fashion toward continual enlightenment. I believe it's both, in which aspects of our lives repeat but they still change. I envision a spiral-like pattern. 

The point of that thought is that I'm thinking about taking an art class. I went to the Tucson Festival of Books on Saturday and the only flyer I picked up was from a place called The Drawing Studio. I seem to be particularly interested in drawing and painting these days. Wanting to be artistic happens to me every year. Sometimes it's photography, sometimes it's videography, sometimes it's something else. Right now it's painting/drawing/calligraphy.

In the past, I would have thought, "This is a sign of my true passion and what I should be doing with my life!" (because that's how I am). Now I relate it to doing dishes or the laundry: it just needs to be done. The desire for art will last...maybe a month at the most...and then I will cycle on to another interest. Probably psychology. I think that's a late spring/early summer habit.

Needing That Spoon Full of Sugar...

There's a saying out there that goes, "Each step in our life journey is important for our unique personal development." The saying actually doesn't go like that, but that's the gist of it. It means that in each phase of our lives, we are uniquely tested and challenged in ways that will help us become the best we personally can be. It's great mental medicine and I remind myself of this whenever I go through hard times. Particularly when I see people my age wearing fashionable clothes, dancing with their friends, and being young and fun...and having it all documented in fabulous photographs...while a part of me that had all that shut down and another part decided it would be a great idea to isolate herself in a desert.

I know the grass always looks greener on the other side and really all those people's lives aren't as fabulous as they appear as they dance in fancy ballrooms in New York or swing out in cute forties outfits or have professional photos taken of them as they're being their beautiful selves. I'm only seeing the fluffy nice things, I know.

Still I wonder - why couldn't I have been "tested" like that?

Out With Reason!

When it comes to making big decisions, using logic doesn't work for me. I don't always understand everything I do or why I do it; things just happen and I go along for the ride. Therefore, I throw logic to the birds. Long-term goal-setting, too, for that matter. I make goals that bend with the wind - today I want one thing, tomorrow another. I think it's time to get real with myself and acknowledge that I'm better off goal-less and intuitive.

I do not recommend this path for everyone, though, because it could be a lifeline for some. It's like dairy: some people are intolerant and others need it for survival...like babies. I am logic-intolerant.

Without A Phone: One of THOSE People

Every so often, a careless person (read: friend) will write an annoying post on facebook that she dropped her phone in some body of water and now desperately needs numbers so that she can patch the pieces of her life back together. This time, my phone became the next victim to water (work + rain + biking home).

However. As we speak, my phone is sitting in a bowl of rice and I refuse to post a play-by-play of it's vital stats on facebook. Instead, I will post here that if you've sent me a "Happy New Years!" text, you probably won't receive a response. This is for you, Mom. 

Coffee Date: Fail

In a conversation with my sister: 

A: I just went on a coffee date. I hate dating. I'm so bad at it.
H: What happened?
A: We had nothing to talk about...he kept checking his text messages and I saw him glance at his watch while I was talking. Conversation was very forced.

Afterthought:

A: It was probably a bad idea to mention that I didn't like dating while on a date.
H: Yeah...that was a bad idea...

The hilarity of my wipe-out

has worn off. Bruises have been appearing on all my limbs during the past few days. Currently trying to heal myself in epson salt baths.

My Life Is Like A Child

The more I try to control and shape it, the more it rebels and tells me what it will do. Anyone else with an autonomous life - can I get an "amen"?

Bike Wipe-Out

Sunglasses in blindingly sunny Arizona are awesome. They're like butter for your eyes. Except when they don't have the prescription lenses you need - then they're just hazardous.

Biking to meet someone for an occupational coffee chat, I encountered the never-ending university construction and turned down a side street. I saw a sign that read, "No through street," and thought, Well, that doesn't make sense. Clearly, I can go right through.

Not paying attention to some other white signs and not being able to see the brown chain stringing them together across the street, I ran into the barrier on my bike. I saw the chain right as I approached it and grabbed my brakes. In slow motion, I left my seat, went forward toward the ground, and thought, Glad I have a helmet! However, because I continued to hang onto my handles and apply resistance, I ended up tumbling to the side instead of out in front. I landed on the chain and became tangled in the metal, the bike, and my own arms. I made one feeble attempt to move and then gave up.

I heard a guy say, "Hold on. I'll call you back." I realized I couldn't get out of my self-imposed knot. Then I heard footsteps approaching.
"Are you ok?"
"I'm fine..." I moaned. "Except for a bruised ego." He helped me untangle myself and we went on our merry ways. Luckily, my bike was fine. I only had a giant, bleeding gash on my hand (discovered once I took my gloves off) that I tried to inconspicuously wrap in paper napkins during my interview-chat. Classy.

I thought about including a lesson for this post, like the dangers of being negligent about one's eyewear...but I honestly wrote it because I thought the whole thing was hilarious. I fully intend to continue wearing my sunglasses while I bike, too.

Graffiti Art Wannabe

Every time I try to make visually bold and loud statements, I usually just tire myself out and retreat into jeans and a college t-shirt. But I am determined once again. Maybe I should just be ironic...one of those people who can whip out super catchy-flashy artwork but looks like farm girl from Wisconsin. Possible?

The Word On Dancing: Out To Lunch Indefinitely

I stopped dancing. 

"What?" My partner asked. I didn't want to say what I was feeling. He continued, "It's simple, but you're trying to find a nice way to say it. Just say it."

"...I think I'm burned out."

~~~~~~~~~

When I was becoming depressed, I lost interest in dancing. I thought it was simply because of my S.A.D. However, even on my happiest days, I discovered I had no desire to go out and dance. As the days went on, disinterest in dancing turned into dislike and then gradually repulsion. I became upset over feeling this way and started talking to my family and friends: "What is this?!" I'd ask. I had everything I wanted: a great partner, a great coach, and I was working toward my dream of becoming a professional dance teacher. However, something didn't feel right. 

I had returned to analyzing myself again - what I was passionate about and what I wanted to do with my life. I had an overwhelming desire to create something - write, produce, build. I started reading more about self- and career-development. I wanted to focus on building a creative career and not pour energy into lessons and practice anymore, but I wouldn't accept that thought. Maybe, I thought, I just need a break. Maybe this is normal. Maybe this is part of hard work: it's not always fun, but when you hang in there, you'll achieve great things. But I no longer wanted to even think about dancing. I felt disgusted and I wanted to be disassociated from it. I would cringe when people would refer to me as a dancer. I'm other things, too!! I wanted to yell. 

Practices were difficult to attend. I wasn't mentally there and I quit caring. You know that "ceiling" I talked about when I was depressed? I kept hitting it with dancing. I just hated thinking about it. Yet I continued to convince myself to push forward. What about everything I wanted? I'd ask myself. Nationals? Blackpool? A big part of success is showing up, and I knew that if I showed up, eventually I would be successful...but at what cost? Obviously I wasn't happy anymore. 

To help me figure out where my values were, I reflected on a few questions (with the help of my mom):

1) What are you afraid of?

2) What would you lose if you quit?

3) Is there a compelling reason to not continue dancing?

After thinking about it, the real issue/fear came out. I realized that I was afraid of letting people down and I was afraid of what people would think of me if I quit: Is Amy going to be one of those people who sets out to do something and never finishes? Is she a quitter when things get hard? She could be great, she has so much potential and she's throwing it away. I didn't think she would follow through anyway...she's not dedicated...

All these thoughts were and are very real to me. They also make me wonder about my motivations for pursuing competitive dancing as far as I did...were my goals ever really my goals? Or were they implanted in my head by others? Goals I "should" have had? For me, one of the upsides of being told that I have talent and potential is that it motivates me to do better and fulfill it. The downside, though, is that I believe I now have a responsibility: I need to fulfill this talent or potential, otherwise it will go to waste and I will be a failure. My coaches and team members sent me the positve messages, but I also saw the feelings they revealed about those who were decent dancers and never practiced: disapproval. I never wanted to be on the receiving end of that. Lastly, I have to admit that my previous partner - even in his good intentions - fueled the pressure I felt to continue dancing. He would talk about my talent and how I could end up at Blackpool. I think this might have been his dream for me and I eventually took it on. As great of a goal that it is, it only makes choosing a different path that much harder.

After contemplating the fear issue, I thought about how much I used to love dancing - truly. Running finishes in quickstep let you fly and foxtrot feathers and three-steps let you glide. In Latin, you could unleash a firy or charismatic energy that you never let out otherwise. I loved beautiful movement and stories told through dance. I loved taking on different characters through expression without words.  There really was something magical about it. 

However, for whatever reason, the magic wasn't there for me anymore, and the need to figure out how the body could move efficiently and beautifully across the floor wasn't as dire. 

~~~~~~~~~

I explained to Shey that I didn't know if it was temporary or long-term, but it was definitely there. I mentioned how I didn't even want to think about dancing and that I was done. I couldn't tell at first how he was taking it. He seemed shocked and then understanding. We went over and sat down on the studio chairs, ending practice 20 minutes early. 

"I think I feel the same thing," he said. A Standard tango came on. "I don't want to dance to this - I can't relate to this! Can you?"

"Well...kind of..."

"The thought of dancing to this music - to Standard music - makes me want to throw up..."

I burst out laughing. I thought Standard music could be very beautiful, but I had to agree that sometimes enough was enough.

Shey and I talked about working through it, but truth be told, I think we both wanted to be done. We agreed to take an indefinite break. If we came back together, we came back together. If we didn't, we didn't. The great thing about this partnership was that was that we seemed to be on the same page the whole time - from the beginning of our dancing to the end. Kind of crazy how you meet someone like that. I actually don't view our partnership as ending, though. I think of my partnerships like I think of book chapters - they're always going to be there, and when you want to revisit that dancing/chapter again, you can. 

When I biked home, I felt an incredible sense of freedom and as though a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I felt good. Really good. I began thinking of all the other things I could do to fill my time and was met with an incredible swirl of possibilities. I could write or watch movies and not feel guilty for not practicing, or I could become certified in TEFL and move to another country - like Turkey or Oman! OR!!! I could go SoCiAl DaNcInG and ENJOY myself! ...or maybe that's a bit much for now.

Regardless, leaving dance won't be forever, but I want to try something else for a while. It's been great so far, but I want dancing to be my art...and to be fun. 

As I peddled home, I began planning my next adventure...