i bet you won't get crunk

I take a Turbo Kick class at the gym. It's like kickboxing, except there's a little bit of a hip-hop element to it, so it definitely caters to a female audience. I always have respect for the one guy that shows up though.

Most of the routines are comprised of whatever the Top 40 songs of the day are, and in between different sets of movement, the instructor will encourage everyone to just "shake it out" or "get freaky." Most people just stand there.

In particular, Ciara's "That's Right" (featuring Lil' Jon) song came on. If you've ever heard Lil' Jon, you would know that raw, freaky quality in all of his songs. Anyway, the instructor wanted everyone to freestyle for the first 15 seconds or so before our kickboxing routine began. When most of us timid people just bounced our heads a bit, she made us do wall sits or push-ups until we would actually let loose.

Did I mention I go to this class with my mom? Yeah, that will shut down any freaky side I possess rrrrrrreal fast. The instructor made it a competition on who could get the freakiest. Guess who won? My mom. Guess who had to demonstrate with the instructor in front of the whole class? My mom.

I had no words after this. No child should be subjected to that kind of sight.

I don't care what the instructors says, I'm not "getting freak-nasty" in front of my mom. I'll take the push-ups thank you.

ugggghhhhh

Concert is actually more fun than I thought it would be.

But I have a sugar coma right now. I want to pass out and vomit and curl in a ball all at the same time.

Dear Body,

Please do not blow up like a balloon tomorrow. I still need to fit in my costumes.

Thanks,

Tanya

feet

Dancing is really wonderful and all, but if effs up your feet.

Not only do they crack and bleed and blister and ache, but they are generally deformed by the scarring and callousing of these maladies. I dread sandal season when I have to reveal the monsters in their full gnarly glory. I guess that is the one good thing about winter.

Foot fetishists beware. It will never work out between us.

dancesport recap

So dancesport was actually pretty successful this weekend. Okay, ballroom (standard) was kind of sucky, even though I love my dress, but I don't feel too bad because I didn't put in a lot of practice for it. However, my latin partner and I made semifinals in pre-champ and novice. (Pre-champ is a higher level for people not familiar with ballroom terms.) I seriously wasn't even planning on making a round in pre-champ. After the quarter final, my partner even changed because we were certain that we didn't make it to the next round. Let me tell you though, it is so incredible looking up at the screen and seeing your little number in black and white. The other thing is that making a round gets exponentially harder because every round is cut down by half every time. Every time you dance again, your competition is more concentrated with advanced dancers.

Thanks to Allison for capturing this photo. I don't love my profile (because I hate my nose), but I really love the essence of this picture because it seems so still and quiet in a place that was definitely the opposite. For some reason, I just really resonate with the feeling this photo gives me.

Anyway, it was the best Dancesport I've competed thus far at BYU. And I'm not saying that I'm this super awesome dancer, but the reason my partner and I did well is because we worked really hard. Thank you 6 am-8 am rehearsals every. single. day; and our doubles on Fridays and Saturdays.

nationals

So. Much. To. Do.

It's not even funny. BUT, the tender mercy of the day is that my evolutionary biology test is now next Friday instead of this Friday. Luckily, most of my stuff needs to be done by Wednesday anyway, then I can live at the Marriot Center all weekend. Hello fake tan, nails, eyelashes, hairspray, gel, hairspray, rhinestones, hairspray...can't wait!!

(BTW: X-10.5 today. I reached my first goal for Nationals!)

Tatiana

Dancesport is this weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love it. I love everything about it. I may not be the best dancer out there, but I love the adrenaline, the hair, the make-up, the professionals, the costumes, the energy. I always come back with a resolve to be better and work harder.

Tickets are $8 if you care to stop by and see my alter ego Tatiana.

Tatiana is the Russian form of my name. Russians pretty much dominate the dance world, so that is the reason for creating this Russian persona. They are clean, sharp, fast, fierce, and passionate. When I'm in costume on the floor, I get to be someone else (or maybe just express a very hidden facet of myself...)

I just love it. Happy Dancesport!

strictly ballroom

I wish I could make my body do what my heart and mind want it to do.

Why did I not start dance when I was three like everyone else in the world seems to have done? I'm fast to learn choreography but slow to learn technique. Very slow. This always become apparent when I watch myself on video, and it looks like the day I started dancing.

I don't every think I've ever enjoyed watching myself dance. Sometimes things will look okay in the mirror, but something always happens from the mirror to the camera. All the sudden every movement is messy and ugly and depressing. I get really jealous of other people's opportunities sometimes--almost to the point where I feel sick to my stomach. I feel so helpless that I can't turn back time.

I'm just stuck. Why do I love something that I'm so terrible at?

Earthquake

My movement is shaky--says my dance coach from our lesson today. I need to utilize this thing called my core. I hear that term so often, but what does it even mean??

Meh. I guess I'm just waiting for it to all click.

On another note, I was in my reproductive physiology class and we were all discussing journal articles that we had found. As I sat there I just thought, "I LOVE SCIENCE!!!" There are so many things to study.

How do I pick just one?

Off Day

...not to be confused with "day off," which would be so lovely.

No, an off day is just when everything is broken. It started with my private lesson today with Brent, my intimidating coach. He's great; he really is. He definitely knows how to critique. I can talk to him like a normal person now, but deep down he still scares the hell out of me. I just hate the look on his face as he watches our routines. I just know it is not even near his standard of good dancing. Everything I did just...didn't work. It was messy and unbalanced and lacking control. Sometimes I feel that there's so much to fix that Brent just probably feels overwhelmed with everything to correct. And everything that I do need to fix would probably not be ready by next week's lesson. Things like balance, control, speed, etc. are so frustrating to work on because it takes so long to see improvement.

This was only at 7 a.m. Then I had team, and I was off again with everything. I have a duet with another couple, but I always worry that Brent has regretted his decision to put me in that spot. And I hate the possibility of that feeling.

Then I was lost in Dev. Biology, thought I was on in Spanish, but took a quiz and apparently wasn't. I was really frustrated because I actually read the play, but I didn't fully understand what he was asking on the quiz due to my faulty Spanish skills. I botched the whole thing, and I hate that my professor thinks that I probably just slacked off.

I couldn't focus in Repro. Phys. even though I love the subject.

I found some serenity in the lab...except the PC-12 cells are frustrating and not surviving.

Gold II Standard...meh. Sometimes I wish I would just get it. I feel like I look the same way dancing as when I first started. I wish I had better habits about my head placement and the use of my latissimus dorsi muscles (anatomy what?) and my knees, knees, knees. We rotate partners, and when I don't have a partner, I'll sometimes dance with the TA because he really knows what he is doing. It helps me a lot, but I fear that he feels annoyed having to dance with me because of my lack of ability.

blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh. That's what I have to say about today.

Vegas!

I just went to Vegas for the weekend for a dance competition. Everyone always asks how I do, and I just want to say, I'm not that good, but it's okay. I learn a lot, and I enjoy a lot. My partner and I have a long way to go. It's hard to stay constructive about the experience. Part of me is sitting on the edge of the floor desperately wishing I had ten years of previous dance training and hyperextended knees and the ability to move and spin like lightning. I develop such a hatred for what my body cannot do. I see so many people who actually have success in their dance endeavors, and I cannot help but flush green with envy. I start developing these grandiose dreams of moving to New York, getting a Russian partner, and spending all extra money on dance lessons. On the edge of the floor, nothing else seems to matter.

But a flush is all it is. Then I come back to reality. I'm grateful for what my body can do. I have ten more years to work on everything I want to. Success is individual.

I just want to live up to my ridiculous standards, that's all.

The Big Lewandowski

I've danced more in this past week than...I can't even remember. My feet ache from being a constant three inches taller. My legs are being retrained to rotate more when I stand on them. I'm discovering my core and that it's lower than I think. My center is actually my spine, and it is used as a handy little axis on which I spin. I'm placing my weight better. I'm using my arms more naturally. At the same time, all this body fixing sends me through an awkward dance phase, where my body is challenged to move up in the next level of mature movement.

It's Adult Ballroom Dance Camp, which is where professionals come to BYU, and you just take technique classes all day. They have different levels, and most of us on the team take the most advanced since they don't get too hard. Sometimes I go to a lower level because it has a better teacher or a better dance being taught. There are a lot of social dances that are taught, which aren't my forte or my favorite. Give me technique and structure!

There is this one teacher, Izabela Lewandowski, who is amazing. I love her lines; I love her body; I love her energy; I love her interpretation; I love her technique; I love her artistry; I love her style. She just moves with such ease and speed. Her classes are always really gritty as far as technique goes. We do pretty basic moves even in an advanced class, but we tear each step to shreds in order to define the whole body action of the step. It really just blows my mind.

All this dancing makes me frantic that I only have a year left to get as good as I can possibly be.

And then what?

A brand new day

Not everything is turning out, but some things are.

I got the research position for which I applied. I got the acceptance email yesterday after stressing about it for weeks, so thanks. Now I don't have to worry about not graduating.

I got a scholarship for next fall/winter--not a full, but anything helps. (It's that bloody C in o-chem from the summer...why did I stop caring??) In the grand scheme of things, I have saved $15,000 of tuition. I'd say paying only an approximate total of $3000 for a college tuition is not too much to ask.

I found a ballroom partner who actually wants to practice. And I'm taking a technique class again...finally. No, I didn't move up for next year, but that's my fault. I didn't put the time in to work for it. But guess what? I still love dancing. Take that.

Now...I need to:

Get on the CNA bandwagon. (I started studying for once. baby steps, baby steps...)
Run more/get in shape for summer.
Start preparing thinking about life after BYU, which seems to be impending sooner everyday. This means making preparations for PA or graduate school. April 2011 is coming too soon and not soon enough. Yikes!

Concert: The aftermath

This weekend was Ballroom in Concert. We had a Friday evening, Saturday matinee, and Saturday evening show. Here's the breakdown:

Cons: -I got no homework done.
-I used more makeup and makeup remover in three days than in my entire lifetime.
-I'll probably break out this week because of that.
-Early morning rehearsals at 6:30 a.m. in preparation.
-Bruises on my legs from bumping too many arm rests in the Marriot Center.
-Damaged hair from hairspray, blow dry, hair spray, blow dry to make my hair super shiny.
-I felt guilty for not selling very many tickets...and by "very many" I mean zero...

Pros: -I finally got to be in concert, instead of watching it this year.
-I started to like my costumes.
-I still got to watch some amazing dancing from the side.
-I entertained people.
-I felt busy.
-My old coaches Brent and Katie came down for the alumni number. Brent found me afterwards, and we chatted for a bit. It was really nice knowing that someone knew me in the stands, since my family couldn't come. And I didn't feel like he was judging me for not being on Tour Team. I've always really respected Brent and his passion and Katie and her creativity.
-Even though my face will hate me, I love getting ready for shows with the dramatic makeup and hair.
-I felt legit walking through the Marriot with full hair and makeup. (Hey, no one knows I'm on the lowly 10:00 team.)
-Just another opportunity to dance and perform :)


Next mission: Get a partner.

Dancesport

It's exhilarating and depressing at the same time.

It's depressing because I get so jealous of these kids who have these programs when they are five years-old and they have the potential to be the best dancers they can be. I didn't start dancing until I was 15, and even then, it was mostly social dancing and not very technique driven. I loved my years on Pacific, but I wish I was ten years younger and could start in their program the way it is now, which is intense, and I love that. I get depressed that dance has faded out in my life. I just didn't have the in like a lot of people did. I didn't have background dance experience to master balance and grace. I didn't have the competitive drive that Utah kids were so accostumed to. I didn't know about the politics of everything until a little too late. I got older; I need to graduate; I have other commitments... I just can't give everything to dance anymore, and I guess I never could have. I'm not competing this year in dancesport, and it kills me. I just wish I could find a partner that I was in sync with that I could just go out there and have fun with. That's all.

Nevertheless, Dancesport is still exhilarating. I've realized this one thing: I don't have to be amazing at something to absolutely love it. Sometimes I think I'm not worthy to say I'm a dancer or I really love ballroom. But I am, and I do. I love how when a samba is blasting in the Marriot, my heart beats to 1--a 2, 3--a 4. I love how the waltz makes me hold my breath until count 3 again. I love not being able to carry on a conversation because I'm so mesmerized by the people on the floor. I love not being able to control the urge to choreograph a little routine in my head when a song comes on. I love the fake tans, the fake nails, the fake hair, the fake eyelashes, but the real passion that drenches the air. So am I the world's greatest dancer? No. But I still have the right to love it with all my heart and dance whenever I feel like it.

Dancesport will always be one of my favorite weekends of the year.

mediocre

I feel like I haven't given forth my best effort this semester, which has really been showing up in my test scores lately. It is really frustrating, but I can't blame anyone by myself. I really waste my time sometimes. Sometimes it's not just a waste of time, but it still affects my school work. I feel like I have been sliding downward since high school. I was really on top of things back then. I guess we all have a bad semester now and then. I'm pumped for winter though. I am so making a come back....

Well dancesport is over...for now. I really just want to get better , but I don't know how. I have been dancing around my apartment non-stop because I'm just on a high. Ballroom really is what keeps me sane--ironic because most of the time I am ignoring people dancing around my apartment thinking about certain dance moves and obsessing over every last toe point. As much as I get teared down and critiqued and corrected and told that my technique resembles a 185 student and that I look like this [insert embarrassing rendition of my dancing by brent keck] and as much as I get discouraged and as much as I cry, I absolutely cling to my dream of making the ballroom team and getting into gold bar classes and coming back to washington to teach and give back to the wonderful program of Pacific Ballroom Dance that has enhanced my life so beautifully. I cannot even express what PBDC did for me. I have a drive and a passion for something in life. I have a talent to improve upon. It gave me something I care about. It gave me a challenge to rise to. I never ever want to stop dancing. It runs through my blood to my fingertips. I am always dancing. Even when I walk to class, if you look closely, my hands twist and extend because I am performing a routine in my head and it shoots to the ends of my hands because that's all I can do without appearing too odd. I often feel so behind of the people who started dancing at age three, blah blah blah. I discovered dance so much later, and I am at a disadvantage, but I figure that I have eternity to be a better dancer, so I shouldn't get too sad.

That's all for now.