lackadaisical

i don’t know if it was because of the dreary weather, but today i just felt hopeless. listless and lost in limbo, i was stuck in my own head and kept bringing myself down.

it’s been months since i’ve been on the pole, and it’s been too easy to make excuses instead of getting back into it. i’ve lost a lot of strength during my time away, and now that i’m home, i’m tied up with an erratic work schedule. i was semi-hesitant to start pole dancing again, but i decided that today would be the day.

i was already feeling down when i got there. it was an intermediate/advanced class, and i’m not at that level in terms of strength. my inverts are messy and my aerial inverts are nothing short of abysmal. i popped out my shoulder on the first – and only day – i landed my shoulder mount, so that’s out of the question until i’ve conditioned properly. i tried not to compare myself to the other girls who were so fluid and graceful and strong and powerful.

“don’t be too hard on yourself, you’re just coming back after a long time away,” my teacher told me as i struggled with a chopper-invert-outside leg hang-cupid-figurehead combo that everybody else nailed effortlessly. i nodded, but even i couldn’t mask my disdain with an attempted smile. i feel like she saw right through it in seconds.
“you promise?” she knows.
“no,” i say.

there was this one trick in the combo that i’d always wanted to learn: the cupid. i haven’t worked on flexibility in a long time and my hip protested as i tried to make it stretch almost parallel to the pole. i was pretty pleased with it, and my happiness only increased as we started freestyling. it has only been within the past year that i’ve given freestyling a try, as it’s never been my first nature – i’m not a dancer and i’ve never been formally trained other than with pole.

freestyling today was such a release. i felt like i was flying around the pole and my hair was whipping and my dips and pirouettes were beautiful because i’ve practiced them many a time, and oh isn’t that what you must do should you wish to excel at something, my dear?

we danced. i danced. i threw my pole shoes on and oh yes i danced, i floated no longer in fog but around and around the chrome bar that was so familiar to me and i was in control of it all.

i was so sore when i got home. so sore, but happier than i’ve felt in days.

 

sublime sunrise

the muted hues cut through the clouds, glowing embers spreading into violets and blues. she smiles, pressing her hand against the window pane to watch the condensation collect around her fingers in the cold morning light. this is her favourite time of day, when the city has not yet awoken and the only sound is the soothing lullaby of raindrops scattering on glass. she walks away, trailing her left hand as she dances her way across the tiny apartment to make herself a cup of coffee. she chooses a playlist on her ipod and before long, her apartment is filled with swirling spirals of steaming, fragrant sumatra coffee beans being percolated to perfection. she takes it black, with two sugars, and sips out of a pale pink china cup – dainty, except for the smudges of last night’s lipstick dusting the edges. they are crimson like the colour of the petals that litter the floor, remnants of the gerbera daisies that last weekend’s date had brought over before dinner, before wine, before they spent what felt like hours pressed up against the wall that separates the kitchen and the bedroom. stirring her coffee, she wonders if she will decide to call him again, chewing mindlessly on her ragged thumbnail as she thinks. the two second pauses between songs are no longer silent, instead punctuated by the noise of the traffic twenty-six stories below. she finds herself at the window again, staring at the miniature trees, cars and street lamps. she knows that she is tired – tired of this busy place, and tired because she has yet to sleep after work. she takes the one remaining daisy and sits down on the floor, cross-legged, as she reaches for her phone.

the little engine that could.

I’m currently in Quebec, spending 5 weeks here for a complete French immersion experience. My knowledge of the French language is neither the best nor the worst, but if there’s anything I’ve learned in my lifetime, it’s that there is always going to be room for improvement and that you never stop learning.

I’ve been here for just over 2 weeks, and between the early morning classes, late nights and the activities that the university has jam packed during the day, it’s no surprise at all that many students have succumbed to the cold that’s been circulating – myself included. As Murphy’s predictions so often are correct, the sickness was only intensified by the fact that my asthma inhalers had conveniently run out, leaving me baffled as to how I would be able to battle the wracking coughs that I knew were fast approaching.

princess of fire

 Just an original playlist to tide you over on a Sunday afternoon.

princess of fire – 8tracks mix

wisteria

I made this for you.

I strongly believe that making someone a playlist or a mix CD is one of the sweetest and most thoughtful things that you can ever do. In a digital world full of electro-beats and technology, it has become so very easy to simply press ‘play>‘ on 8tracks or Spotify – not that I have anything against either one of those delightful sites – I just can’t get enough of the personal touch that comes with giving somebody a mix CD.

A mixtape speaks worlds from the moment you give it to the other person until you hear the very last bittersweet, quivering note of the last song resounding in the night air. It is a collection of your thoughts, memories and feelings – the ones that you’re essentially sharing with someone else. It’s a rollercoaster ride – you bring them up with some EDM, jack it up with a touch of dubstep, then mellow it back down with a downtempo electrojazz track that reminds you of the time that you baked oatmeal-peanut-butter-white-chocolate-chip-cookies because you couldn’t sleep and this song was playing on repeat, on repeat, on repeat.

A mixtape cannot just be “thrown together”. One does not simply throw a mixtape together – if you do, you’re doing it wrong. It has to be carefully thought out; it has to have a defined start and a finish, with the transitions between each song feeding off of the previous and into the next. These are little breaths, complementing the stories we will share and experience together.

You have to trust the person you’re giving the CD to – really trust them to appreciate the minutes that went by, tick tock, as you lovingly devoted your time and effort into breathing life into the mix CD. They have to understand how it feels for you to part ways with each song because each song has been a part of you, however deeply ingrained, from the first time you heard it.

“Here you go. I made you this. I hope you like it.”

One Week to Go

It’s about that time of the year when the temperatures start dropping (thanks, global warming), the days get shorter and we all get a little more sad as summer tapers to its end. Gone are the beach days and drinks on the patio, being replaced instead by 8am lectures and dorm room parties.

I can honestly say that I’m incredibly excited to go back to school, as strange as that may sound. I’m going into my second year of university which means that my courses are much more streamlined and tailored to my future career – hopefully law. This being said, I’m studying Political Science, English and French, and I’m looking forward for the classes I’ve chosen. Even better for me, the classes that I’ve chosen are later in the day, so I get to sleep in more!!

I’m sure I’m not alone in saying that buying back-to-school supplies is one of the best parts of the whole academic experience, no matter what level of learning you’re returning to. There’s just something about buying those fresh new pens and neon highlighters that fills you with a sense of contentment and excitement that isn’t the same anywhere else.

In university, you learn just how much you actually like your friends when you find yourself anticipating the start of the school year just so that you can be in the same city and hang out again. Study sessions over Starbucks and midnight rants to each other about that paper due in the morning? What’s not to like?!

School starts in one week, and the countdown is on!

Zero to Awkward in 3.5

It’s not exactly uncommon for me to strike up conversations with random people. Some call me a social butterfly; others refer to it as being too friendly. Either way, I’m not one to find things awkward and I am quite skilled at avoiding or fixing any sort of awkwardness that may ensue – that is, until I notice where you’re looking.

It starts out harmlessly and subtly – of course, when you’re talking to someone, you’re not entirely fixated on only their eyes or face and your gaze will wander a little bit. I notice your eyes flicker to my left arm. Maybe it’s because you’ve noticed my Michael Kors watch, (always a staple in my wardrobe; I feel naked without it) but you do a double take. Over the course of the rest of the conversation, your eyes always find their way back to the row of ridges carved into my left arm.

And there it is. Now you’re only half-listening to what I’m saying; you’re spending most of your energy trying to figure out how and why those scars appeared without having to ask me yourself.

“Why did she do it?” “Is she crazy?” “There must be something very wrong with her.” “Is she depressed?”  “Maybe she just wants attention. Is she looking for attention? What an attention whore.” “Wow, she’s so fake, she seems so happy.” “Clearly she’s mentally unstable.” “That’s fucking disgusting.”

These are just some of the things I imagine start rushing through your head the moment you see them.

It is at this point that I start to feel awkward and conflicted. I almost want you to ask me. I want to explain myself – I want to prove to you that I’m not crazy. I’m not depressed, and it’s not a cry for attention. I don’t want you to think that it’s disgusting or gross or that it devalues me as a person, because it doesn’t. Don’t you have skeletons in your closet? Things you’re not proud of? Mistakes you’ve made? Exactly. People have to live with the mistakes and decisions they might regret for the rest of their lives – the only difference is that mine are visible to the whole world.

I want to tell you all of this, and I want to prove myself and my sanity to you. But at the same time I don’t, because there is no logical explanation I want to provide for the battlefield that is my arm. So, I’ve become adept at eluding those glances over the past three years. The moment I see your eyes wander to my hand, I will casually tuck my bangs back and in doing so, hide my left arm behind my back. I’ll use anything – a well-integrated giggle or a glance at something else, for example, to redirect your attention and try to make you focus on the conversation once again. It usually works for the time being, but from that moment on, any time you see me again you will try to sneak a peek at my arm to verify that the hash marks are what you think you are and that they are really there. And they are.

A Whole New World

I first became interested in pole dancing when I was about 16 years old. Never having been much of an athletic person, the only dance experience I’d had was breakdancing at the age of 9 and two dance classes during high school gym class.

It was while procrastinating an assignment due the next day that I stumbled onto a pole dance video on YouTube. Back in the day, anything pole-related was few and far between, but I managed to find a number of videos to satiate my newly piqued interest in pole. Being a music junkie, I realized that almost any song could be applied to pole, which is probably 87% of the reason why I became infatuated with the sport. It intrigued me that pole dancers could seemingly defy gravity with such gracefulness and fluidity, and the PG-14 videos showcased a side of pole dancing that strayed from its stereotypical erotic nature.

I had no problem dabbling in something that was mildly taboo, especially as a typical teenage girl raised by strict Christian parents. In fact, what better way to rebel than to participate in such an activity? I quickly did my research and found out that pole dancing was a new fitness craze and that there were actually a few studios in my area. After verifying that none of them were secret speakeasy’s, I decided on Aradia, a chain studio which operated throughout Canada. I went to a teaser class with one of my best friends, where we spent about 40 minutes doing ‘sexy floor workouts’ followed by about 15 minutes actually using the pole. This was the part that I was the most excited for – I’d get to experience real pole dancing!! We learned the basics – that is, how to walk around the pole, pirouette, hold yourself up (I was scared to lift my feet off the ground), and a simple fireman spin. The instructor led us in a choreographed combination of the new moves we’d just learned and after a 5 minute cool down, we had officially finished our first ever pole dance class.

I left the studio that day with a newfound love and passion for pole dancing, and since then, I’ve found a new home studio:  SASS in Stoney Creek, the home of Miss Pole Dance Canada 2011. Dancing and training with Shanyn means that she pushes me to be my best and reach my goals, as she shows how hard work and dedication really do pay off. She’s helped kickstart my pole journey, and every time I watch her execute a move, I’m left in awe. I’ve come a long way since my first pole dance class, and I fully intend to continue with pole and further explore the aerial arts.

sunflower

I sometimes contradict myself and I believe in lust more than I believe in love.

I have all the passion of a fireball, and I’m working on translating this energy into my pole dancing.

I think that rainy days call for Jeff Buckley and Earl Gray tea,  especially while curled up with a good book.

I absolutely adore adventures, and I like to live my life accordingly. When I’m not fulfilling my duties as a princess, I’m pole dancing, studying, drinking wine or making the best playlists you’ve ever listened to.