Auld Lang Syne

I am so ready to say sayonara to 2009. And, I find it very fitting that I will be doing it back in Japan. Today is an extraordinarily windy day in Japan. It is as if the year wants to fly away quickly into the past....

If you read my blogs, then you know how this last year has been for me. It certainly wasn't one of my best years by any means. But it definitely was a huge stepping stone to where I am today. And comparatively speaking, even the worst of my problems could not hold a candle to what some people have experienced this last year. One of my little brother's best friends just passed away from his four and a half year battle with brain cancer. I will always remember Matt when I think my world is crumbling around me. I hope I can find half of the courage he had to face my own life's challenges.

I heard that it was Japanese custom to do a massive cleaning of your home as the New Year approaches. I decided to participate in this custom. As I was cleaning and listening to music I had purchased throughout this last year, I decided I would ride my bike down to the sea wall and physically let 2009 go by bringing something from that year with me and letting it go into the water. For some reason, even though I am so far removed from the events and people of this last year, it all weighs heavily on my shoulders still. I guess "auld acquaintance" sometimes can't be forgot...

So, as I prepare to say goodbye to last year and hello to a new one from the rooftops of the happiest place on earth, I will be reminded of the many years that have come and gone in my own life. I will remember the moments, good or bad, the lessons learned, the ones that I have loved, the ones who have caused me pain, the beautiful music that has touched me, the dances I have danced, the songs I have sung, the tears I have cried, the smiles and the laughter, and I will be happy. I will feel new again. This journey through life is such a beautiful blessing.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

Happy New Year my friends. -M

Origami 折り紙

Lately, my brain has taken an incessant interest in replaying the last year and a half of my life. I am constantly thinking of the gamut of emotions and experiences that I have lived in this last year. I begin to wonder whether I really lived it at all. Surprised by the recollection and realization of my own memories, the more I think about them all, the further away they seem to be. The less like me they seem to be. And it seems like a life that I never actually lived, but more like a story I heard somewhere at some time in some place I cannot remember.

It may be the first time in my life where I actually can say that I have regret. I don't regret all of it, but there are definitely some aspects that I wouldn't mind erasing from my history. Wouldn't that be nice? I know "they" say you can always learn from your experiences.... good or bad.... But now I know the meaning of making mindless choices that do not teach me a thing.... do not contribute anything to my life... and those I would rather forget.... But... I guess, in a sense, even realizing this, I may have learned something.

As I move forward, I think about the path in front of me and forget about that bumpy diversion that lead me to a place called Nowhere. There is a familiarity about what I face and also an overwhelming sense of the unknown. I feel as if I have a fresh start.... I am a clean and crisp, brightly colored piece of origami paper ready to be folded and molded into a beautiful shape....a shape that defines something...a shape that can stand on its own...a shape that is delicate and beautiful while strong and long lasting. Even if unfolded, the tendency will be to return to what feels right... each piece fitting right back into place... on the path where I belong.

It seems only fitting to compare life, especially mine, to the art of origami. It is truly a treasure. The paper can tear or stain easily if not treated with the utmost care. With proper thought and attention, it can be folded into a beautiful shape. I am beginning to see how my life is taking shape. What shape will yours take? -M

Wake Up Call

Good morning Mandy. This is life giving you your wake up call.....

Yep. It's been one of those mornings. I was going through all of my clothes trying to organize and pack. Yes. Packing again. As I shuffled through items in my closet that I haven't touched in months or in some cases, years, I decided to try a few on.... Bad idea. They don't fit. One piece after another, zippers won't zip, buttons won't close, and some are like a Houdini escape act to even try and take off again.

I want to live in my sweats because they are comfortable. I avoid wearing my jeans at all costs. And I dread the thought of shopping because I know it will force me to see what size I really am at the moment.

SH*T SH****T SH********************T! How did this happen?

Well, truthfully, I know exactly how it happened. I fully participated in the process of making it happen. With every sip of alcohol, every serving of chips, guacamole, and salsa, with every slice of cheese, with every excuse for why I shouldn't go to the gym, I have not only made myself feel uncomfortable in my own skin, but I have continued to put my health at risk. Oops.

I scratch my head. I wonder if it is too late? Can I turn it around? I mean, look at Madonna! I can have arms like that! If I vow to NEVER eat cheese or drink alcohol again, eat like a rabbit, and work out four hours a day, every day, for the rest of my life.

And then I begin to wonder, is it all in my head? I mean, I feel fat-er. I look fat-er (to myself). But how do others perceive me? Well, I suppose that depends on whose perspective it is coming from.... If you ask the obese WalMart shopper, she'll probably call me a skinny bi$%&. If you asked Tim Gunn, he would say I am way too fat for even a plus size model. If you ask my mom and my gay best friend, they would simply say that I am beautiful just the way I am.

Well, thanks Mom and thanks Jere, but I can honestly say that I kinda do want my arms to look like Madonna's. Maybe I can eat like a rabbit! Lettuce is good! And working out four hours a day could be great! I mean, especially if I have some good tunes to listen to.... And who needs cheese anyway! I mean, when you really think about what cheese actually is, it's kind of gross.

So here I go. I am throwing away the mantra of Scarlett O'Hara: "I'll think about that tomorrow". I have already thought too much about it today. It is time to do something about it! It is time to feel comfortable in my own skin again! It is time to get to the gym!

Ok, well maybe after lunch!-M

Thanks and Goodbye.

Thanks 2R.
Thanks Albatross.
Thanks Taxis for accepting credit cards and Livery Cabs for always honking to see if I needed you.
Thanks 3 flights of dirty green stairs.
Thanks Steve.
Thanks orange tapas bar across the street for the weekend fights.
Thanks Cavo (sort of).
Thanks HSH, Italy, L.C., MDC1, MDC2, MDC3. Am I forgetting anyone?
Thanks wine.
Thanks street meat smell.
Thanks Starbucks.
Thanks Lotteries at Shows.
Thanks New Dance Group.
Thanks Brenden.
Thanks auditions with long waits and not getting kept or seen.
Thanks agents: especially the geriatric ones that have hospital beds and ask you to grab their meds and forgot they had an appointment with you (and who and where they are).
Thanks snow.
Thanks Diego.
Thanks Sunday Brunch at Film Center Cafe for unlimited bellinis in new glasses every time.
Thanks Hop Stop.
Thanks J.
Thanks Japas 55 for keeping my karaoke alive.
Thanks Laura Rose Photography.
Thanks delivery of any food at anytime.
Thank you India (for Alanis).
Thanks LaDuca: You made my legs look like a dream.
Thanks Backstage.com.
Thanks Rhodes.
Thanks Akai Sensei.
Thanks subway: You always got me where I needed to go; except on a Broadway Stage.
Thanks Beckie.
Thanks submissions.
Thanks TKTS.
Thanks PAX for some great salads that I can never finish on my own.
Thanks again taxis.
Thanks Gyu Kaku.
Thanks Eric.
Thanks Crunch Gym: especially for the pole dancing classes and the unique people that take them wearing clear stilettos.
Thanks Park Slope.
Thanks Thai Food: I may have eaten so much that I don't like you anymore.
Thanks Bryant Park and your green metal tables.
Thanks pigeons: You always seemed to fly right at me and then dodge me at the last second.
Thanks Brooklyn Bridge.
Thanks Today Show.
Thanks iPhone 3G: without you, I would have been lost here.
Thanks Cobble Hill.
Thanks Lucien.
Thanks Hudson River Park.
Thanks Blockheads: I will really miss your black flower margarita.
Thanks CD guys on the street.
Thanks 3 hooded muggers: hope you enjoy my purse, LV wallet, all of my makeup and brushes, pink sony cybershot, and my favorite Diesel Hat..hope you have girlfriends (they must be so proud).
Thanks Lady Liberty.
Thanks Nanny Play Dates.
Thanks voice lessons.
Thanks guys selling M&Ms.
Thanks Naked Men Singing: see it for yourself.
Thanks Central Park.
Thanks Kate.
Thanks NYSC.
Thanks West Village.
Thanks Bartenders: You know who you are.
Thanks faint smell of urine all the time.
Thanks REALLY LOUD sirens all the time.
Thanks iChat.
Thanks (oh my) Duane Reade.
Thanks 73 Columbia Street.
Thanks hottie on the 2: I should have introduced myself, but you're probably gay.
Thanks Hugh Jackman.....yep. THAT Hugh Jackman.
Thanks Bleecker Park.
Thanks Peter.
Thanks Mariachi on the train: You always made me hungry.
Thanks Don't Answer: 1 and 2: You always picked the best time to call.
Thanks stoops.
Thanks Woodstock.
Thanks window AC units.
Thanks radiators: I used to be so scared of you, but you kept me warm, so thanks.
Thanks Rite Aid Manager: You lent me your plunger in the nick of time!
Thanks American Apparel: love your deep neck V.
Thanks Bodegas.
Thanks BDC.
Thanks Don't Tell Mamma.
Thanks Bumble and Bumble.
Thanks Camp: you brought back some great memories with Uno and Connect Four.
Thanks WTC: I will never forget.
Thanks Tattoo Parlor on St. Marks: You made me a star!
Thank you for being a friend. (Just because)
Thanks Staten Island Ferry for being free and orange.
Thanks Uggs.
Thanks Sleepy's: for the rest of my life.
Thanks Curb Your Dog signs: even though people don't always pay attention.
Thanks Top of the Rock.
Thanks Random Burlesque Show.
Thanks Poland Spring.
Thanks non-existant train between BK and Queens.
Thanks Ella Boutique.
Thanks for honking: All the time. NY drivers should just have a permahonk.
Thanks Jere and Jaime. See you soon.
THANKS MOM AND DAD: I could not have done it without you.

Goodbye New York City!

Tales of Tequila and Times Square

Here I sit... on the last Saturday of summer.... MY last Saturday of summer in NYC.... in a Starbucks drinking a skinny vanilla latte that is making me sweat.... I need it because I had 3 margaritas at lunch alone in Times Square... and I need to be here so my phone can charge because I called everyone in my address book that would listen to me blab away this Saturday afternoon.... to perhaps not appear to be so alone.... And, I stalked Facebook until I had read every posting I remotely cared about reading twice...I had to interrupt the romantic couple to my right to plug in my charger...which only reminded me of the lack of romance in my own life at the moment....

A vendor sells cheap look-a-like handbags outside the window to tourists that pass by... the sidewalks, crowded with vacationers still manage to seem empty because they are all strangers to me. The BGM jazz seems to sedate me....or maybe it is a combination of the tequila and caffeine... and the thoughts running through my head about voluntarily leaving one of the most amazing cities in the world....

I migrate to Times Square. I sit at a round metal red table and an extremely uncomfortable chair...it's as if they don't want you to stay long... they encourage you to go.... Strange and unfamiliar languages are spoken around me... the masses migrate to see the lights that seem to fuel the city, but actually just repeat repetitive patterns that can be dimmed by the simple flick of a switch. Two Lady Libertys which are far-from-female beneath their green shrouds stand beside one another holding American flags, pose for pictures and pocket change atop of plastic crates.... I begin to wonder how many people may find me in the background of their photos... sitting, writing, and drinking coffee...-M

Transition

As I sit alone, in an empty house, belonging to my friend, who was here when I needed him, the silence speaks loudly in my ears and resonates in my heart. The smell is familiar, the furniture colorful and comfortable. Memories of better times flash before my eyes like ghostly images come and gone. It has been a year and maybe 3 months since I decided to leave this house for New York. I didn't want to have any regret for not going. And now, I can only think of all the things I regret since moving there. They weigh heavily upon my shoulders, and I harbor a deep resentment for all the poor decisions I knowingly made. Like a beggar on a subway shaking his paper cup of change, I hold out my cup to the universe for the advice and guidance that I so greatly need. I want to turn it all around. I want to feel proud of myself again. I want my family and friends to be proud of me. And I do not want to be a burden to anyone.

While the pros and cons battle each other in my mind, I begin to feel the beating of my heart. With every beat, the what ifs, the whys, the hows, and the whens play a redundant and paralyzing message I cannot ignore. I won't ignore. It is time to listen to that little voice in my heart... the voice I have been ignoring for quite some time.

I give up. I surrender. I was unable to make it happen in New York. Whether I was actually capable or not, doesn't really matter anymore. What matters is that I have lost my happiness. I left a little at each audition that turned me away. I lost some as guys in my life came and went so quickly...I left some in each cocktail I served in the lat-night hours. I lost some with the sight of each and every homeless and needy person I could not help. I lost some to the three muggers who preyed upon me. I lost some when I realized how far my friends and family seemed to be. I really knew I had lost it, when even the sight of Broadway couldn't make me smile anymore.

It is time for smart decisions. It is time to make a change. It is time to find my smile again. I know I can, and I will. -M

The Breakup

"They" say that, "all good things must come to an end." I suppose, inevitably, that is true. And in hindsight, in this particular circumstance, I am not so sure that this was such a "good thing".... (certainly not by Martha's standards... and it should never have been by mine) But nonetheless, it too came to an end. Today.

It hadn't been easy. Being the girlfriend of a devastated guy after the loss of a parent then thrust into a demanding career. I tried my absolute best, as I always do. Trying to fix things...trying to make it work, as Tim Gunn would say. But this is not Project Runway... and I am not next in line to be New York's newest fashion icon... I am just a girl in NYC trying her dream on for size... and so far, it has proven to be WAY too big for me.

I helped him move. I packed up EVERYTHING while he worked. I overlooked his complete lack of organization.... I helped him carry it all down the old stairs and up the new, so he could get to training on time. I helped him study. I researched the answers to his study guides and recited them to him as he drove three hours to training because his time management skills were completely absent. I consoled him when he needed it. I cooked dinner. I barely ever let him pay for me full stop. I cleaned his house when he didn't have the time. I didn't want my boyfriend living in chaos. I ignored his dependence on ambien, adderall, and anti-depression because I thought, hey... that might just be the perfect cocktail for someone who's lost a parent, can't sleep, can't focus, and needs to study. Nevermind that he got his prescriptions from some irresponsible doctor from his Pharma days that would write him a script for anything he wanted without an examination. I ignored the fact that he admitted to me that he used to be a pot head and almost lost his job. There were many signs of abuse... and I chose to ignore them.

NO! He is NORMAL! And he is MY boyfriend!

I mean, it didn't matter that he constantly made fun of me and my friends and my family members.... that always felt really good! It was also fun when he would call me, drugged up on ambien and wine and say crazy things he would never remember in the morning... like he was GAY.... WHAT?

Nope. No matter what you say, I love him, and he is MY boyfriend!

There were also those times where he would "joke" with me. Like the time he said if I didn't do something he'd "cut" me. And to take the joke further, he went into the kitchen, grabbed his biggest butcher knife and said again, "I'll cut you!"....then laughing at his "joke" asked, "you KNOW I was joking, right?" (Yep! We all like to play with butcher knives.... it's called method acting)

Nope.... My boyfriend is amazing. He works so hard. I really do LOVE him!

And in the beginning, his showering me of compliments, flowers, wanting me to move in with him were all the things he swore would never change. "This is me! This is who I am!" (he would say) (and I had thought I had won the boyfriend lottery) Well, those things all came to an end a long time ago...just like this relationship should have if I had accepted the above signs and realized what I truly deserved...

But, NO! He is my AMAZING boyfriend and I will always DEFEND him!

Why didn't I have the courage to break this off myself? I mean, I knew all along that he was not right for me... I kept making excuses for his odd behavior and attributed it all to the death of his father and the stress of his job. I kept painting our future with the colors he gave me in the first month or so of dating him. I held on to that painting in my mind like a coveted masterpiece in a museum. I wanted to own it.

He told me yesterday, as he broke up with me on the swings at a nearby park across the street from my new apartment, that there were some things that I just had not learned yet...and it bothered him. He told me I was un-motivated, did nothing on a weekly basis, and that I would never be on Broadway... that I should get a f* ticket and get in line with everyone else....that we were better off as friends.

Thanks, A$$hole. Got any more salt with you?

Well, he was certainly right about some things... Today, I still haven't learned how to stand up for what I deserve in a relationship. And yes, I am slightly un-motivated because YOU SUCKED it all out of me. And at the given rate, I probably wouldn't be on Broadway because I have been too busy trying to make this sinking relation "ship" stay afloat.

**SIGH**

I know what you are all thinking. I was crazy to stay with him. Well, love can seriously mess with your head. Am I glad it's over? Yes. Do I feel a sense of relief? Yes. Would I ever go back to him? Not even if it meant being cast in the starring role of Broadway's newest hit musical. And that certainly says a lot. -M

The Glass Slipper

So, I moved away from Queens. I moved away from my first New York job, the horrible Greek restaurant that stared me in the face every day. I moved away from that dreaded street where those muggers decided I was their perfect target. I moved away from the little wannabe boutique and the Italian memories it held...I moved away from the plunger-giving drug store.... I moved away from the intersection where rivaling street meat vendors set up shop every single day on opposite corners filling the air with an odor that both made you hungry and a little sick to your stomach. I moved away from the place where the majority of the people I know live in New York. I moved away from the place that once held so much promise to a NEW New Yorker.

I decided to migrate south....

...to Brooklyn.

I moved to a place where I met my first boyfriend in New York. I moved to a place where trees lined streets with beautiful brownstones and converse-wearing people read books on their stoops. I moved to a place where Trader Joe's neighbor is American Apparel. I moved to a place where my window overlooks the East River meeting the Hudson and the south tip of Manhattan and Lady Liberty looks at me every morning and reminds me to get going. I moved to a place owned by a Japanese artist and her family who are also now my neighbors. (Is that really any surprise?)

There are bonsai trees on the window sill in the stairwell... My apartment is oddly Japanese in style.... and I feel like maybe, this apartment found me just when I needed it.

But, today, while tying up loose ends with my "old" apartment, I exited the subway on Steinway.... the street that tried just a little too hard... the street that couldn't decide its identity... the street that so many times, annoyed me and disgusted me, and even sometimes scared me... and somehow, today, it made me admittedly, a little sad..... I am not exactly sure why....

Perhaps it felt like I was running away.... or maybe it felt like I had been a bit defeated by my first year in New York.... Until now in my life, the "glass slipper" had fit perfectly (literally and figuratively), and for some reason, Queens/New York was not proving to be the kingdom of my happily ever after.... Would moving south even change the way this "fairy tale" was headed?

As a veteran of living a life as close to a fairy tale as one can, there was always something missing in those dear stories..... I always wanted more adventure, more struggle, more challenges.... to make the happy ending that much sweeter and deserved.... I suppose New York is giving me just what I asked for!!!

So, as I continue to embark on the adventure of auditions in crowded studios, odd jobs, the search for the ever-elusive equity card, the hunt for a decent agent, dance classes, voice lessons and coachings, acting workshops - my "happily ever-after", I can only dream that someday someone will hire me and slip not a glass slipper, but a La Duca on my foot.... a shoe that was born to dance the night away on a Broadway stage. -M

In the "Hood"

She woke up and squinted from the sunlight that pierced through the sheer curtain. She was still sore and her eyes were nearly crusted shut from the old tears and leftover make-up that had been applied the night before. She was reminded of the reality of her situation as the dream she had been in seemed to fade away in her memory like water descending down a partially clogged sink.

It had been one of those days. The challenges that faced her and the dreams she hoped for were one in the same. It felt like being in a marathon with a blindfold on her eyes. She didn't know where she was going and everyone kept running past her without a glance or a helping hand. She decided to give in to the city today.... she just wasn't strong enough to face it.... and besides, it was time for a good cry. She knew once she got it out, she would be okay.... she would be able to start the race again.

She took a nap to refresh herself. When she woke up, she got ready to meet her boyfriend. She knew that a night out would be good for her. As she got dressed and put on her makeup, she called her best friend. He was always able to make her laugh.... especially when she needed it! She kept him on the phone, even as she left the apartment, taking every precious minute of peak calling time to catch up with him. She laughed as she headed down the creaky stairwell and thought not to disturb her neighbors. She walked out the front door of the building and thought her hood was the perfect protector from the chill in the air. Ironically, it would be the very thing that would make her most vulnerable.

She ran into the deli below her house to grab a pack of gum.... Laughing at the familiar "isms" of her dearest friend, she headed on her usual route toward the subway. She couldn't wait to have her night out. The street was residential. It was poorly lit, but she had walked that way a thousand times. As she listened to him tell a story on her phone, a huge blow came to her back which thrust her towards a car parked on the street. Seconds seemed like an eternity.... she was confused, in pain, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw two hooded figures eerily beside her.... It became quite evident that she was being attacked...she imagined the worst. Would they stab her? Rape her? Kidnap her? All of the above? Was this it? One lunged for her purse and as she screamed for dear life, they ran away, with her belongings....and she ran screaming and crying.... toward someone or something that could possibly help her. All the while, her best friend listened to the entire exchange helplessly on the other end of her phone.... Not one soul came out of their house.... not one person on the street came to see if she was okay. She found a doughnut shop near the subway and ran inside an collapsed at an empty table. In complete hysterics, she tried to recount the attack to her friend who was still on the phone. A couple in the shop brought her a glass of water, and called the police.....

You never know when this could be you.... or at least, I never expected it would be me. But it was. I am lucky all they got was my purse... and they left me with a nasty bruise on my back.... It is a constant reminder of how lucky I truly am.... even in the worst of times. -M

What's Your Status?

Has anyone noticed how status updates have become a forum for some extremely aggressive or depressing messages? In recent log ins, I realized that some of my friends have used this space to express things that have lead me to be greatly concerned for their well being!!!! Some messages are clearly written for certain people to read.... sometimes imbedded with cryptic inside jokes.... or flat out announcements made to embarrass others in a very public way... Some even go to the extreme of posting a new status message every few minutes.... sometimes Facebook or Myspace can't even keep up!!!!

It made me begin to evaluate my use of these social networking sites. Clearly, I enjoy blogging, so is that any different? At least my blog isn't the first thing you see... And, you have a choice whether you'd like to read it or not. Status updates are a quick way to catch up on your friends without heading to their profile! Instead, you are bombarded with messages that leave you stressed and worried for your friends, or just extremely uncomfortable! What ever happened to "X is great!" or "Y is happy!" or "Z is eating pizza!" I understand that we aren't always great, happy, or eating pizza, but if you aren't anything along those lines.....and feel the need to post it on the internet, I highly recommend starting a blog! That way, you can really get into dirty details with us!

Which brings me to another question about status and the internet. If you are in a relationship with someone, is it 100% necessary to have that status posted on your site? You see, I recently started dating someone. In my preferences, I had no mention of any relationship status whatsoever. Then, one day, I received the inevitable status invite to be "in a relationship with 'him' ". It seemed strange to me. I had already reached boyfriend/girlfriend-ness with him, but, I wasn't sure I needed everyone to know my business. However, no response to this invite could potentially worry him or lead him to believe I was not completely into the relationship! What was I to do? I tried to evaluate why I didn't want everyone to know my business. I realized people have better things to care about than my love life....

So the next time you feel compelled to post a status message, I urge you to consider posting something positive, or post nothing at all. And if you are having doubts about announcing your relationship status online, don't worry.... it will quickly become "yesterday's newsfeed". -M

The Snow Flake

I woke up this morning from a very odd dream, as usual. I rolled out of bed, sore from yesterday's class and peered outside between my blinds to see Astoria covered in snow. Flakes continued to gently fall in every which direction just as you would see in a shaken snow globe. I was beginning to seriously debate leaving the house for any reason. But I knew that I had to go to class.

After breakfast and some morning news, I prepared for the day. I packed my bag with tap shoes, jazz shoes, water, my wallet, iPhone, and the usual necessities. I put on several layers and a scarf... along with Uggs and a long down coat with faux fur trim. I descended down the 3 flights of stairs from my apartment and headed to the subway. As I walked on the sidewalk, I noticed how beautifully the untouched snow glistened in the sun as it broke through the clouds. It was sad to me that the snow on the streets had to be so ugly and dirty....

I boarded the Manhattan bound R and sat in the Priority Seating. I didn't mean to sit there on purpose, but I had already made the move. So I sat, making sure no elderly or pregnant woman needed a seat. I wondered if the other passengers near me cared whether I sat there or not.... the further we rode, the less I cared actually.

I thought about how so many years ago I had begged my parents to let me take dance classes. I was already studying piano and swimming most of the year. I had tried soccer and hated it, I played co-ed basketball because I liked a boy on the team...and hated it. T-ball (hated it).... all I really wanted was to dance. I wanted to dance more than anything in the world. Somehow, I convinced my mom and dad to sign me up for a Saturday morning Tap class. Kids Tap 1. I couldn't wait!

My mom took me to the local dance supply store to buy me new tap shoes. They were patent leather flats... oh ya, with the grow grain ribbon....old school! We had the Teletone taps put on the shoes at our local shoe repair. I was fully decked out with my shiny tan tights and new tap shoes.... Every Saturday was like my heaven! I danced my heart out on a black and white checkered floor and eventually made it to the stage in my first ever dance number, Kool Kool Kitty.....

I laughed when I remembered my hot pink dance costume with black music notes. It was truly hideous, but at that age, anything with a sequin made my day. I wished that some of that youthful spirit would find its way back to me now in this cold city. Because I was seriously dreading tap class now that my face was frozen. I wasn't only dreading it for the cold, but I was dreading it because it had been 8 years since I had truly tapped. I dreaded it because I wasn't sure how I would handle the class. I dreaded it because I knew that this is what I had chosen for my life.... and whether I dreaded it or not, I HAD to commit to what I had come to New York to pursue.

How the next few years in New York play out, is completely up to me. And knowing that somehow makes the burden more severe. It's not as if I have a curriculum to follow.... certain things to study....days to attend class... auditions that I am welcome to attend.... No, I am completely in charge of how I spend each second of each day. And when you are not exactly sure how to accomplish the goals you are trying to achieve, developing your own curriculum can be confusing. It can make you feel just like one of those minuscule flakes in a shaken snow globe.

Where will I land in the city? Will I land in a place where I will be well preserved and sparkle in the sunlight? Or will I land in the streets only to turn brown and slushy and melt away into nothing? Well, we are not snowflakes, although seemingly just as beautiful and complicated and unique. We have the power to make life exactly what we want it to be. I know what I want. What do you want your life to be? -M

Match dot Seriously?

"All my single ladies" (and gentlemen)...."Looking for love in all the wrong places"? It seems as though I have been lately. I decided to jump on the internet dating bandwagon or shall I say bandwidth? While I was living in Japan it seemed like a great idea. After all, the average age of my co-workers was about 21, and the chances of them being interested in women were slim to none. SO it only seemed logical to join one of the most popular dating networks to find other singletons in Japan. All this time I have kept my account, seeing who may peruse my profile.... I am not sure why I continue to pay the biannual fee. I could find better prospects at a dive biker bar.

When you sign up for an account, you fill out details about yourself as well as what you are looking for in your ideal "match". I am pretty sure that when I entered an age range of 25-32 I didn't mean 45. And for those of you who do not post a profile photo, there is no excuse. POST A PHOTO! And why is it that the guys with 2 photos from far away with sunglasses on are always the ones to say, "I'd love to see more of you." I have like 10 photos posted! And please do not use salutations like "TOODLES"! And of course there are always the "matches" that the website chooses for you weekly. I would really love to know who is choosing them for me.... A robot???

So as I continue to paddle my dingy against the current in a sea that is supposedly full of fish... or shall I say, climb the "world wide web" full of spiders, I will hold out on the hopes that there is some fish or spider is looking for me too.... although a huMAN is much more preferable (considering my dislike of both fish and spiders....) -M
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OK.... I have a spider bite.... and this is one spider I like. A LOT.

I wrote this blog several weeks ago, and only today remembered it. I remembered it when I thought about how I had introduced him to my parents last night! I introduced my parents to a guy that I am starting to like.... and I met him on Match. I met him right after I had written this blog. So someone out there in the universe must have heard my plea!

As much as I hate to admit it, I never would have crossed paths with him unless it had been for Match. So, even with all of its flaws, Match has opened up a new door for me. And I know that many of you out there are thinking, "There is NO WAY I would ever consider internet dating." But all I have to say is, "Don't knock it 'til you try it." -M

My Guardian Angel

Two days down, three hundred sixty-three more to go. It's a fledgling year, and my festivities have wound down. Everything that I had been looking forward to just crashed hard into a brick wall and dissolved into fragments in my memory. The end of the holiday season has always hit me hard. Not only is it an end to my favorite time of year, but it is also the beginning of a new year in my life marking my birthday in December. This year has been particularly significant for me. I said sayonara to Japan, I moved to a new and unfamiliar city, I turned 30, and I have no job.

For someone who has followed the suburban template for a successful life, guided by two stable and sturdy parents and under the influence of extremely intelligent siblings, it can be a little scary to explain to anyone what exactly it is I am doing or trying to do here in New York. Sometimes it is even difficult to explain it to myself in my own head....especially when your insecurities and doubts scream back at you like a rival gang taunting your every move.

But in spite of the unknown and the fear that accompanies it, I am guided by this overwhelming feeling that everything is going to be okay. Not only is everything going to be okay, but I know I am going to accomplish something great. It could be what I dream of doing, or it could be something I never had dreamed of doing. It's almost as if a guardian angel is constantly sitting beside me. I can't exactly explain it, but I have always felt this presence. As I face this important transition in my life, I am so grateful for this peace of mind. -M