So after workshop, I decided to check out this belly dancing class near Fiona's gallery. Coming from a pretty strong background in dance--mostly classical ballet-- I was really excited to have the opportunity to check out somthing that's very stylistically different. Oh my goodness, it was so much fun though! I mean, I had some issues with technical stuff...like I spot my turns and do almost everything on the balls of my feet or with my feet pointed because of ballet but still...it just felt so great to be taking a class again. Its one thing to slip on your old pointe shoes and just mess around but taking a class, you get such a high off of it from the energy the other dancers bring to the table. I mean, three hours later and I'm still going strong.
Fiona's gallery is doing really well, I think. She just opened the space around six months ago and she's already generating a buzz. I think partically because she has been holding a bunch of benefits which are always amazing for press coverage. As much as I am proud of Fiona, I'm also secretly jealous of her. She is only six years older than me, not even, and she is completly together. And as much as I try, I'm not. I have absolutly no idea where I'm going to end up for grad school or after that, I'm living at home this summer (inserts knife into jugular), I'm still unmarried with no acceptable marriage proposals coming any time soon... it sucks.
I think what bothers me most is that I'm so type-A that I cannot stand not to have a plan for where I'm headed and if somthing doesn't follow the plan, I lose it. I always thought by the time I was 19 I'd be more self-reliant then I am now. Not so much. I'm still extremly dependant on others, be it for; approval, confidence, amusement...there's a myrad of things. And deep down I know that I should be able to stand on my own two feet. But I just don't think I'm strong enough.
Whatever. Styilist appointment tomorrow. Thank God. My layers completly grew out, my ends are friend and my roots are completly obvious. I'm thinking I might have Damian do a dark, almost but not quite deep brown with some chocolate tonal highlights and chop my hair up to just below my collarbones with a bunch of long, razored out layers. Maybe. I don't know. I think that's why I love going to Damian. He knows me, he knows what I can pull off and how much time I'm willing to devote to my hair in the morning. Plus he's been my styilist for over three years now and going to anyone else just feels like cheating.
Wow. I am a vain, elitist whore. Whoops.
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We're all frazzled inside....and plans? Ha! Your plan A and plan B will just about always fuck up which is why you really need to have plans C-F stored away somewhere (which also tends to ensure that everything goes according to at least ONE plan, or a compilation of them all!)
We will never measure up to our own expectations for ourselves...perhaps we should measure more of our worth on the fierce determination to never let that stop us from trying.
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