But I'm a Dancer

And you are...?

It has come to my attention recently that I am--for dislike of the other word-- highly opinionated. (Yeah, that's what we'll call it.) I'm highly opinionated. I can't help it. The best I can do is keep said opinions to myself. I mean, just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean it's nice and I should share said opinion with you; unless you'll think it's funny. I don't like being mean, but sometimes the truth hurts. So, if I don't think you'll like what I have to say, I won't share.


That being said, there are some people that don't seem to have that filter. I will always share my opinions with my mom. And some others, but I don't want to hurt feelings so I won't list those others...in case you aren't one of them. I was back in the Nasti this weekend, and I was bouncing ideas off my mom. Here's what I've come up with...

I led a privileged life growing up. I'd been to 5 continents and 15 countries before I was 18. I graduated at 17, from private school with college credits under my belt. I did every extra curricular activity my young heart could desire. I was clothed, fed, wined and dined at the nicest of restaurants in the best of vacation spots. We built a pool in my backyard, and then built walls around it. There's a steam room and hot tub in my house and I bought my own car when I turned 16. Even after my parents divorce and my mom's unemployment I graduated from NYU in 3 years without taking any loans. I'm living my life like it's golden.

Cut to I am now a college graduate. Dancing with the company-- touring in Sint Maarten, and Cincinnati. Performing in Summer Stages and The Gala of International Dance Stars. Unfortunately the checks don't come every two weeks. Rent, cable, internet, electric & gas need to be paid. So what do I do? I work part time at the spa. I moonlight as a receptionist/coordinator for $10/hr. But ask me what I do and I'll tell you I'm a dancer.  Stay with me, I swear I'm making a point.

Yeah but like, what do you really do?? *In all my righteous indignation* I'm a dancer, dammit. And you are? That's right, you pick up boxes at UPS, or pick up trash at Macy's, or maybe you even sit in a cubicle 9 to 5 for minimum wage. Or if you're especially privileged you sit at a desk for longer and you make more money than I'd ever know what to do with. While I answer the phone and listen to rich people bitch about expired gift cards to help pay my rent, for 25 hours a week, but how dare you judge me for doing something I love. If I can keep my big mouth shut about your maintenance position at Madame Tussauds or that God awful sounding job in finance, then you can keep your opinions to yourself.

I'm not one to think I'm better than anyone else. I might have had better circumstances growing up, or better chances at a great university; but better as a human being, not likely. I might not be loaded now, but don't think for a second I don't know how the upper middle class lives. I live my life like this, because I chose to. Out of all the things I could have been, I picked something that I love. I may continue to live in my metaphorical box, and I'm okay with that. Your steady pay check that may be more than mine, means absolutely nothing to me when the alternative is working and not dancing all day. But please believe,  in the unlikely event that I tire of dancing sparkly dances, I could do anything. And you're stuck, I hope you like your job half as much as I love mine. #DancersHavePassion. Pass it on


the rest is still UNwritten