Birthday Month Recap.

Boy oh boy!  Things have just been busy busy busy….moving moving moving!

I had two posts now sitting in draft status from a few weeks ago and just haven’t had the time to see them to fruition.   Not only that but they just don’t seem relative as they were from a few weeks ago, and a bit long winded.
So Here’s a quick recap.

May came and went like a flash.  It was my birthday month…yes…month…as I took as many dates as possible to spend with as many of my loves ones that I could.  Getting everyone together for one big hooray was like herding cats.  Schedules and what not.  So each weekend was spent with as many people as I could fit in.  After all, that’s all I really wanted.

I got to spend a weekend away in a cabin, while also celebrating some other friend’s birthdays.  I got to hot tub and eat like it was gluttonfest 2014.  I hiked old familiar places and made new memories (or layering the past as I like to call it.) 



I got to do my mini burlesque tour and had the opportunity to perform in different cities.  My performances were met well and the crowds seemed to dig what I did.


I met new friends and incredibly awesome people.  I had the opportunity to be invited to hang out with an up and coming burlesque troupe and shown around their practice/performance space which used to be an old nunnery.  (Which REALLY tickled the urban explorer in me.)


I laughed a lot and absolutely loved every minute of hanging out and traveling with my group.  I can’t tell you how worried I was that personalities would clash or people not being on the same page about things.  Not the case.

I also got to attend a day of MOVEMENT, which is like the kick off to DEMF in Detroit.  It’s a pretty big electronic music festival, where I got to listen to the sounds of Green Velvet, DJ Marky and Ed Rush & Optical.  (I’m a DnB gal at heart.)


All that was followed by a boat ride,  a ride out to bald eagle nesting spot, and a day of swimming and walking around a historical naturey spot.

My actual birthday was in there too.  It was the Sunday I came back from my burlesque tour and pretty much the big reason why I had to split everything up, but I was still able to have a small gathering at the local watering hole.  It was just an evening of playing guilty pleasures on the juke box and again laughing.

It was an incredibly excellent month.  I am so grateful for all of the friends and loved ones I was able to connect and spend time with.   I am so thankful for the experiences and adventures.  The generosity.  My heart is so full and everyday I am just washed with the knowing and appreciation of how truly blessed I am to have the people in my life. 

So there you have it. 
The short version.  😛



Birthday Burlesque-ing

I’m getting ready to embark on a weekend “burlesque” tour to some neighboring cities.

Recently, I have just been asked to rejoin the burlesque troupe I have been performing with as a guest here and there.

I’m not sure if I ever delved into the story of my relationship with the group or not, but long story short, I was an original member, I couldn’t make all the meetings due to transportation issues,  was asked to just be a guest performer because my lack of attendance was “threatening” the unity of the group, and now…I am a member again.  (Though I still don’t see how my lack of physical presence at all weekly meetings reeeeeally affected the group dynamic….I was still active online.)

Anyways, So here I am…rock you like a hurricane.  A featured performer.


I’m hoping that this time around, things will be better.

It’s also my birfday this Sunday. 

Birthdays are incredibly important for me.  Not because I particularly like all the attention and focus being on me me me….but because I see them as reminders of the commitment we made to the lives we have embarked upon, and the paths we have crossed with others.

A day of the utmost gratitude and recognition. (Though don’t get me wrong…every day should be a day of gratitude.)

Life, even with all it’s good beautiful moments, is still pretty tough at times.  Our souls are facing great challenges.  It’s not easy.  And hopefully we will be able to overcome our challenges and evolve into even better versions of ourselves.

Because to me…that’s the point of life.  The constant learning towards the perfecting of one’s soul.  Life ain’t no chump school…Annie said it best…This is hard knocks.

So when birthday’s roll around, it’s kind of a big deal.  People should stop being modest.  They should pat themselves on the back.  They should feel entitled to a little praise, love, adoration and thanks. 

You’ve earned it.  You’ve SURVIVED this far.  You have taken on great challenges.  And hopefully learning a thing or two.

It doesn’t even need to be a day of birthday cakes and presents….though cake is always nice.  :). Just that simple recognition of hey, you know what….I’m still here…and that says a lot.

I dunno folks.  It makes me sad when I hear from people about how their day is just another day to them…that it doesn’t really matter.

It does matter.
Because you matter.
So do it up. You’re allowed to. You deserve to. And while you’re at it…do it up for me too. 😛


Hoop Path Cleveland 2014

Hoop Path Cleveland was last weekend, and this time around, It left me in a very weird, and sad head space.

Normally, I feel rejuvenated….spiritually speaking.  In a way, almost nourished.  This time however, I dunno.

I have all kinds of weird feels going on in me.

It wasn’t that the workshops themselves weren’t good…they were, however, Sunday afternoon I hit a wall and a total shift happened that I just couldn’t seem to shake for a few days.

Everything was going great. 
I missed Friday’s workshop, which I was ok with.  There was something else that had come up that I already had committed to, but I didn’t mind that I could only partake in 2 days of the workshops. Normally in the past I would be quite sadden by this. I guess you could say I was in a place of acceptance instead of disappointment.

Saturday I came, I was handed my ass as far as drills and movement.  I felt a deeper sense of appreciation and recognition for the beauty….even with all it’s struggles.  I was in a place of gratitude. 
I even smiled and tried to attempt folding and point….which are forms of hooping that I have been introduced to in the past, but just lack the coordination or grasp of these techniques.
As always I reverted and committed to my mantra of “Do what you can, and don’t worry about what you can’t.”

Saturday night there was a gathering after the workshop at a friends house, where there was lots of fire spinning. I actually fire hooped and spun some fire poi. Of course sticking to moves that made me feel comfortable and safe with out the worry of setting my head and face on fire. It’s a start.

All and all my 1st day of Hoop Path had been incredible wonderful. When I finally laid my head down on my pillow early Sunday morning I was still in a place of gratitude, appreciation and love.

A few hours later as I wrestled myself out of sleep to get up and at em’ for the next workshop, I could feel how incredibly angry my body was. My legs especially. Everything hurt. I came very close to saying forget it…I’m out on the Sunday workshop, but the thought of knowing that there would be stories of the Maidan, which are the mythological “super heroes” of hooping, to be told, I pushed though my pain and tiredness to get to the workshop.

Even though my body was done, so to speak, my mind was not.

The first half was us laying (or moving about if we felt the need) and meditating on the stories.
Baxter, the man behind these myths, told them with such beauty and grace. He talked of these women as though they could have actually existed. Their stories all serving as a reminder and lesson to how to overcome daily struggles with insecurities and our approach to the world.

Afterwards, we did some long “sway” sessions, in which you go blindfolded and just feel and allow your body to move in whatever way it deems to the music. The reason you go blindfolded, again, is to block out the insecurities and scrutiny of why you don’t “appear” to move as others do.
It’s more a lesson in letting go and just being. Letting your own true authentic movement come through.

I was doing really good up to this point. Tired….but still incredibly grateful.
Then it was back to Folding and Touch.
And then that was where I hit the wall.

I became overly frustrated that I wasn’t grabbing the concept behind these techniques. That I wasn’t at least picking something up. I wasn’t grasping anything.
I tried to go back to the whole do what you can, but I kept finding myself getting angry.
At one point my body just shut down. It was done. This only added to my level of frustration.
I spent the last hour of the workshop just hating it….and turning all that negativity inwards onto myself.

I tried to keep in mind all of that gratitude that I held so close just a few hours before, but had a hard time erasing the negativity I just allowed myself to permeate my being.
I sat in closing circle reflecting on why I just allowed myself to let that happen.
That was when a floodgate of personal introspection began.

I was sitting in frustration and sadness over my inability to fold and point that allowed the next flow of thoughts to occur. I tend to be very critical of myself and can be very brutal and mean. My anger at my lack of coordination opened a floodgate of all kinds of ugly thoughts and feelings.
Or was this a breakthrough….a holding of the mirror in front of my face, making me aware of the issues I need to address in myself.

My last relationship, really has fucked with my head, heart and very being. I had thought I was coming to terms with what had been endured and letting go, but a lot of questions in regards to my character, my being during that situation arose.

I don’t really like the person I was during that period. I don’t feel I was shining bright. I don’t feel as though I was being truly authentic and living my truth fearlessly. I adopted behaviors I felt at the time would help me survive or gain better grasp on the relationship. I felt justified.
Looking back, I can only shake my head. I have all kinds of reasons for doing what I did…but they all just feel like excuses, and not worth the breath to say them all.

I also let this other person’s words doubt my inner light and true authentic self. I hear them saying things now about me, while in my heart of hearts know not to be fully true about myself, and yet, I still sit in doubt. Are they right? Am I that? Is that who I really am? Or is it just the final ploy of a narcissistic asshole trying to get in one last jab?

I came to the realization of since that whole ordeal, how truly closed off I have become.
And I don’t like it.
I feel as though I have become selfish in my need for self preservation. Yes…I have been hurt. Who hasn’t? How long do I need to keep myself and others at a distance? How long must I go on licking my wounds, while others around me need my help? How much longer must I walk around numb to the lives of others and myself, because of the fear I carry of investing too much and only being left with disappointment and hurt?
When will I just get over myself?

All these thoughts slammed against my head, which lead me to end my hoop path experience on a rather sad note.

Since then, I’ve been trying to make sense of all those thoughts. Those feelings. I innately KNOW I am not that horrible of a person that this man I was involved with implies that I am. So why do I keep doubting myself? Why is it that when these moments swoop in, do I not pluck those moments of gratitude and sling them back into the face of those doubts?

There is a place of gratitude for those dark moments of self doubt. Because it’s only then that I am truly able to look at the whole picture of my being. Not just the kick ass side of me that blinds every blemish of my psyche….but all facets of my being. The good, the bad…and even the ugly.

Days later, as I have finally processed those thoughts and addressed those parts of me I am finally coming to a another place of acceptance of my past situation. (I say another place, for there are still parts of me that are still dealing and mourning.) Simply put, if I didn’t like who I was then, then don’t be that person NOW.
What’s done is done. No need in continually beating myself up. Learn and move on. Truly learn.
And hopefully with writing all this, it will serve as a reminder to myself, to step outside of the hurt. That it’s ok to let people in, and move close to others. That any disappointments I have, are because of the expectations I set.

Even simplistic expectations. Expectations that at times I feel are universaly felt.

It’s all on me. How I choose to respond to those disappointments…again…is all on me.

While I still feel fucked up from the past three years, and my movement along that path, I do feel a small sense of healing as well.
I know I can change. I know that I will.

I still can’t get folding and point down….but maybe one day I will.

Tiny Gasps.

There are  brief moments,  that light up and fade with in a second of breathing them.
These feelings are so fleeting, only surfacing for a moment or two and then hurrying to sink back into the safety of my being before being gobbled up by the anger I am carrying to protect my tired and weary heart, but their presence transcends the moment where everything around me aligns and all the colors come back into the prism. 

Little glimmers of truths.

It is in these moments where I can see nothing but gratitude for the experience I had with “him” and the past three years.

I am grateful for the love.  The love I was capable of giving to someone in an experience such as that was… and how I fought tooth over nail for the purity of that love.  And what a truly beautiful thing that is. 
Loving someone that deeply. Fiercely.  Unconditionally.

I am so grateful for that….beauty.  That simplistic innate truth.

I once heard a saying that goes along the lines of “A man’s worth is not measured by how loved he is, but how much he has loved.” …..or something like that.

And for once, I truly feel that.  When those specks of recognition connect to the surface, all the hurt, the lies, the bullshit….It all doesn’t matter as much.  Those feelings become replaced with all the good.  The shiny moments.  The reminders of what our infinite souls are capable of.

Some will argue that this man was not worth that kind of love….  and maybe so, in the sense that it was not reciprocated, that his treatment and attitude towards me was selfish, hurtful and lazy….but we should all be so lucky to love with such abandonment and completeness.

I still carry hurt, anger and bitter disappointment but during these moments I feel the veil lift, the shell soften, and my heart taking tiny gasps towards breathing in life and healing.

So I take this moment to thank him.  To thank the powers that be that pulled me into his path, and him mine.  I take this moment to thank myself ……for never holding back……for being true to that part of my infinite authentic being. 


Woweee!  100 people reading my jib jab!  I am truly honored!

Thank you all who tune in to my random word vomit, thoughts, ethos, rants and so on. 


Highlights From My Weekend


         Watching my sister run outside in her bathrobe and slippers, carrying a plastic bag,   yelling    Hey!  Hey!  Hey! To the deaf lady who lets her dog shit in our parking lot, to tell her to pickup her dog shit with a series of hand gestures and then ending the “conversation” with a thumbs up.

–  The realization of how truly blessed I am to have my mom (and dad) in my life.

–  How truly kick ass my family is.

–  A “straightened up” apartment.

         The excitement from a dog who is happy to see you.

         My quesadilla maker

         The local park system near my house.


         The sounds of frogs singing, humming and chirping.

         Seeing a beaver smack it’s tale on the water to warn us he was around, and that we were on his “turf”.

         The multitude of water lilies.

         Trees.  Oh How I love trees.


         Beautiful spring day.

–      Taking the dog on Walks.


         Watching The Belmont Stakes with the family and “Picking out” which horse we wanted to win.

         Having picked the horse Palice Malice because I was familiar with the Jockey Mike Smith, due to the fact that I watched the TV show Jockeys.


         Watching Palice Malice take the lead and win the Belmont.

         Running into an old Cast mate/director I haven’t seen in years.

         Partaking in the consumption of a very tasty pulled pork sandwich smothered in tasty BBQ sauce (which I ended up getting all over myself in the process.)

         Dancing to a Fleetwood Mac cover band with my Best friend and home girls.

         People watching, whom were also totally digging the Fleetwood Mac cover band as well.

         Realizing that I was probably one of the better looking people at this event.  (not to knock anyone, or make it sound like I am arrogant, but it is a realization I rarely have.  If ever.)

         Riding a horrible carny ride with my best friend and laughing non stop over the ridiculousness that is two grown women holding onto for dear life in fear of being flung out of the ride.

         Busting out into fits of giggles and laughter over thinking about the above.

         Sharing my pillow with a dog who has the most softest fuzziest head.  Ever.

         Lounging around for a good hour or so reading in bed.

         Laying in bed with a cat snuggling up into my side, and purring contently.

         Taking a fat nap.  (Even if there were some bouts of sleep paralysis.)

         Driving about Lake county, looking at houses and pretty scenery

         M&M Blizzard.

         Watching some good episodes of Arrested Development.

         Falling asleep to the Directors Cut of Legend.  Never saw it.  Glad they re-worked it.


The Long Hill by Sara Teasdale

I must have passed the crest a while ago and now I am going down

Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know,
But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud I should be
To stand there straight as a queen,
Wrapped in the wind and the sun with the world underneath me
But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track
And the brambles caught in my gown
But its no use now to think of turning back,The rest of the way will be only going down.

I’ve always loved this poem.  To me its about missing out on the good stuff because you’re too focused on the negative.
I think too it could also be about setting up unrealistic expectations…life doesn’t always go the way you would like it.  Some times you get those brambles catching your hem, when all along you want to appear to be a queen….at the same time though…just cause you got them brambles stuck to you, you have to look up and not miss the world around you.

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