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.roofie pole 1

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. Continue reading

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!