You Had Your Chance--You Blew It

Out of sight, out of mind. 


Woe is you, but this is sooooo true. Out of sight, out of mind. Have you ever had the feeling that you're invisible? There but only on the periphery of someone's consciousness. Like an "oh yeah, there's [that person], too..." It's not a pleasant feeling. One, I'm sad to say, I have felt numerous times in my young life. Out of sight, out of mind. 

On the other hand; it's hard to be distinctive, too. Every move you make speculated upon, noted, critiqued, or even praised. When you would kill for just a second to be... average; able to dissolve into a sea of everyone. Not resented for standing apart, not praised for being so different. Not unique, just normal. I've felt that too.

I have learned over the past 21 years, as you can guess -- or maybe you can't? -- I'd much rather be the center of attention, than be forgotten. You can always pretend there aren't people talking about you; but I'm fairly certain you can't pretend you matter when you don't. As harsh as that sounds, you can't make people care about you.

Damn, Piph. What's with the down and depressed? You ask

Well, honestly I'm not down. It's just something I've been thinking about. Having been on both sides of the attention scale. What I wouldn't have given, growing up in my church, to not have been so smart. I was teased, ridiculed, and continuously brought into the center of attention by teachers. I was too smart, too literate. I dressed nicely, rode in nice cars and "talked white." Not that I would give my education up for anything, even then I knew I had an opportunity the kids teasing me didn't. But I resented the fact that I was resented.

But it continued, the attention.

• Epiphany made the high honor roll. 
• Epiphany was accepted in the National Honor Society. 
• Epiphany is in the Who's Who of American High School Students. 
• Epiphany is in the newspaper...again. 
• Epiphany is on the cover of the newspaper. 
• Epiphany scored highly on standardized testing.
• Epiphany got a scholarship to NYU

I had to learn, after many, many years of teasing, not to be self-conscious because I'm smart. Yes, I can read a complete sentence...very quickly. I eat books. And book worms are sexy. I don't "talk white," I speak proper American English. And damn right, I will be acknowledged and praised as an excellent dancer.

Summer of 2007 ended, and I got out of Cincinnati so fast I probably left dust trails. I left my family and -- I was going to say "friends" but I think "people I knew in high school" might be a better description. "I was Eastbound and down, moving to New York." I worried, of course, not about whether I'd make it in school. I had every faith that New York City was just what I needed. No, I worried about leaving my family. I worried that my younger cousins wouldn't remember me, the youngest was only about 2. But that didn't happen. The babies were ecstatic when I would come home. I think me leaving was a bit of a novelty, as my whole family pretty much lives in Cincinnati. I was the first person to leave the tri-state area in quite some time. And upon my graduation I can't tell you how many times people (not just family) asked if I was moving back. 

I'm sorry... I don't understand your question.

I have every intention of staying, and if not here, then I can confidently say I'm sure as hell not going back to Cincinnati. What for? Yes, my family lives there... but it's not home. Not any more. And I find myself wondering, as I spend more and more time away from the center of things, how much longer  I can be out of sight until I am officially out of mind. Am I an after thought yet? Do they think of the first round of grandkids, my generation, and remember that I too am a part of it? I don't know. 

And as shitty as it feels to be a second thought to someone, I know I've done it to others. Think 2 paragraphs up when I talked about my friends from high school. Yeah, I've talked to maybe 3 of them since graduation. And only on facebook. Our lives just grew apart, we wanted different things. I was separated by at least the distance from New York to Ohio, and from some the distance of a country. When I no longer saw them everyday, we had no reason to keep in touch. Out of sight, out of mind. Really puts certain relationships into perspective, eh? 

But what can you do? Sometimes we outgrow the people in our lives. The directions our paths take go separately for a time. Maybe the come back together, but maybe they don't. If you find yourself out of sight and out of mind, I say try not to let it bother you. It just means that something, or maybe someone, new is coming to fill that void. You never know what the Lord has planned for you. My advice? So glad you asked:

Live. Like there's no tomorrow.

Laugh. Like it's heaven on earth.

Love. Like you'll never be hurt.

Dance. Like no one is watching.

the rest is still UNwritten...

Good Lord, There's Gonna Be an Orgy!

Okay, there's not really an orgy... Or maybe there is? But it's not here. I did get your attention though huh? Apparently the prudish (and I use that as a very loose definition, and in comparison to the rest of the world's sexuality) United States is becoming more overtly sexual. Who knew? amNY did! I only know because it was the cover story; and that's the newspaper with the crossword, sudoku, AND ken-ken games. The paper's article was focusing more on porn, and I mean, if that isn't a STOP and Read Me beacon then I don't know what is.

The writer was saying that porn-ish (?) culture was infiltrating our daily lives. What with designers advertising their clothes and jewelry with half naked models. Sex appeal is clearly the selling point for many a marketing campaign.

Abercrombie & Fitch

Calvin Klein X 

Calvin Klein X

Mind you, not that I care particularly how they go about their marketing. Sex sells, it is what it is. He's got a hot bod, and it's a hot ad. I may go to "that Fitch place" just to see more half naked white boys. But companies like Abercrombie, and Calvin Klein in his X campaign received so much criticism for the overly sexual subtext. 

The article was saying that nowadays marketing campaigns are borderline porn (really? porn?) and that younger generations - I'm thinking like 30s and under - are eating it up. What used to be obscene and strictly contained within a small audience is becoming more expansive. All those "seedy" sexual preferences are becoming popular fads - chains and whips excite me na-na-na come on S-S-S & M-M-M

But more than Rihanna's catchy song about S and M, the article mentioned how today's youth and those young 20-30 somethings in my age group are more into recreational sex than relationships. They mentioned sexting (which is verbal foreplay via text messages, in case you couldn't come up with that on your own) and even talked to professors in social behavior. In the regime of the "porn creep" they say that intimacy is being socialized out of sex. Of course, when you can read about last night's sexual exploits and drunken debauchery on textfromlastnight.com, I may have to agree with that statement. 

(412): New bet. First person to f*** their girlfriend and narrate the whole thing in Morgan Freeman's voice wins. You are disqualified if she asks you about. My girlfriend is on her rag. U have the headstart. Your move...

I have the textfromlastnight app, and every hour I get updates from the website. It makes me feel better when I start thinking that my life is out of order. I get first (maybe second) hand details of some person's night, along with the rest of the world wide web. Most of the time the texts are about last night's random hook-ups. The amNY article mentioned that mostly it's guys that are into the no-strings sex, but that's not true. A good portion of the tfln debauchery is perpetrated by equally uncommitted females. 

I'm withholding judgement on these people; because, frankly, I don't know their lives. I guess the article made me think about the people who don't want just casual sex. The people who want some sort of connection, other than physical, to their hook-ups. I wonder about younger girls. My niece is 15. Will she fall victim to the recreational sex fad, and lose her virginity to some guy who just "wants to stick it in". Or will she find someone special, that cares for her and that she loves? Is it even possible to make that connection these days?

I imagine emotionally detached sex, while physically satisfying, is different from the all-encompassing passion of sex with someone that you love... And until you find someone like that do you settle? So let's talk about sex baby...

It's a new world for a boy and a girl; letting go of it all, holding on to one another. Oh, there's a whole other world to discover...under the covers. So if you wanna go, baby let's go.

the rest is still UNwritten

Et tu, Brute?

What is it about us as individuals that we can turn on those that care for us, love us, or even those people that just help us along. Why as a race, or species, are we capably of such subterfuge? Animals, they aren't that petty. They don't have the capacity to hurt without reason. We have the capacity to completely ruin someone over a minor slight. We slander reputations out of jealousy. We ridicule people because they're different. We despise others because we envy what they have, while we have not. And we take advantage of generosity, like leeches, sucking a person dry before falling off completely stuffed.

How is it that we can betray those around us. And for what? The small comfort that we have bested them? The satisfaction of a job well done? Giving into those deadly sins of Pride, Envy, Greed, Rage, and Gluttony.

To turn on an acquaintance, someone who has put their trust in you, is bad enough. But to turn treacherous on your best friend, your lover, your family, what could possibly prompt us to violate such a precious relationship? How can we become so engulfed in envy, so lost in lust, that we cheat on our significant others -- husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. It doesn't matter if it meant nothing; I almost think that might be worse. You ruin something, with someone you "love"; over something that was nothing, with somebody who is nobody.

The girls and I were together again yesterday evening. While in Sweden we would lay in our respective bunks and have seriously philosophical conversations. It was deep, and I think we're all closer for it. But last night, as we waited for our audition time slot (it came and went during this talk, btw, because they were running 40 minutes late) we created hypothetical situations.

1. If you cheated on your boyfriend would you tell him? Is telling out of guilt selfish, when you'll never do it again, and it would crush him? What if it was long ago, before your relationship was exclusively established? 
2. You're having an affair with a married man. It's your best friend's husband. What the hell kind of friend are you?
3. Your boyfriend is cheating on you. Do you want to know? What if it's a serial thing?
4. You're engaged to be married, do you tell your future husband about every guy you've ever been with?

Ironically this conversation didn't spark this particular blog, but it did feed in quite nicely. While none of us had personally been in these situations it was interesting to talk them through and get everyone's opinions. Simmers said she's writing a book #151--the guy she's finally going to marry-- and numbers 1-150 that came before him. 

What really planted this seed was my mom. She's given the board of ballet tech ohio performing arts association DBA arts innovation movement: aim cincinnati, her vast experience in PR and marketing free of charge since 1997. She was President of the board, Producer, and then Executive Producing Artistic Director. She worked a full time job for the majority of the time she was working with the company, and volunteered all of her free time to the stressful business of running a company. She brought it from some rinky-dink studio company to an internationally known affair. The Gala of International Dance Stars? All her. You had a dance career that started on stage at the Aronoff Center Jarson Kaplan Theater-- thank Marvel. 14 years of single-handedly keeping the association afloat, through diva Artistic Directors, a long line of Executive Directors, creating a headquarters for a non-profit organization, and maintaining and growing a community center.

Suddenly, things aren't going so well. A slothful board doesn't want to honor the contract the company signed with world class dancers. They want to file for bankruptcy because they're too lazy to do some fundraisers. They want to create a new position, and take the little money left in the account to pay themselves-- for their mediocre performance and selfish indulgences. They dare to fault my mother, and all that she's done for them, for their failures. 

It was her that offered you a job, when you had no money. She that paid you, sometimes from her own pocket, for your choreography when you'd never seen a dime for dancing. Marvel that opened her building and her arms to a bunch of kids no one else would give the time of day. After all these things, the board asked Marvel Gentry Davis, president for 14 years to step down. They thought things would be better if she weren't in charge. More like she wouldn't be able to stop the stupidity from running the company into the ground. It was this situation that planted the thought that's been niggling the back of my mind for the past week. How could they bite the hand that fed them so? Was it envy? Were they jealous of all the things my mother is that they were not?

The board insidiously tried to suck everything that my mom offered, then turned on her. They used and used and used her, and finally her reservoir was empty. The board wanted to keep her on, to sustain them, even while they proclaimed things would be "better" were she but out of the way. She's a better person than I am, and for that, the board should be thankful. I'm indignant on her behalf, and she's far better off without the weight bearing down on her. Did you mistake the kindness for weakness? Faster than the collective board could say "oh shit" she walked completely away, denouncing all affiliation. She is gracious. I am not. On behalf of my mother, to the treacherous people who betrayed her out of envy, jealousy, resentment or ignorance, I give you my one-fingered-salute; and my resignation. 

It hurts so much more when someone we like is the one serving the betrayal. People we love may be pissed in our honor; but the person betrayed, all they can think is Et tu, Brute? 

the rest is still UNwritten...

Dear Zoë...

Dear Zoë,

Ever since you played that sassy but oh so passionate ballerina in Center Stage, I've wanted to be you when I grow up. My 10-year-old self fell head-over-heels in love with you when I found out you'd also been a dancer. I don't mean I want to be you in a literal sense, in that I actually become you-- that'd be weird. But I admire you as an actor, and the passion and versatility you show in your craft. From Theresa Jones in Guess Who to the title role of Colombiana to the classic popular girl in that teenage classic Crossroads. You even showed your comedic hand in Death at a Funeral. You do Daddy's girl, chic business woman, and bad ass assassin like nobody's business; with a skill that others should aspire to.

I don't know you. I wish I did. You're like 12 years older than me, but we could friends. I'm digressing...I don't know you. So I can't comment on what you're like as a person, you could be a huge bitch. No offense. I hope you're not, because that would crush my inner child.

Anyway, I guess I just want to say that after 11 years of fan-hood you still motivate me. I want to excel in my craft just as much as you excel in yours. I read your interviews and I'm inspired all the more. You're gorgeous and you're great. And when I grow up I still want to be like you.

Just saying.
Epiphany

the rest is still UNwritten

SSD is Hot Stoff 2011

So, remember how I went to Sweden last week? Well, as predicted I didn't really blog too much, but mostly because I didn't bring a computer. And typing on the iPad is uncomfortable. So here we are, I'll give you a run down of the highlights (and undertones) of Simone Sobers Dance taking Stockholm by storm. =) starting with leaving rehearsal the day we left.

8/23- 2ish

Titi and I lug bags/dodge NY midtown traffic to make last minute stops before heading to Jersey on the Path train. Shopping list: European adapter, toothpaste, snacks. Done

Cut to leaving T's house headed for the 6:45 rendezvous for check-in. There are two creepy black guys working for Iceland Express (I know right? There are less black people in Iceland than Sweden) Picture Titi and I standing about halfway through line, watching this man neglect his duties as luggage porter, while he's watching us. He doesn't say anything, just stares. But alas, such is New York...or Jersey as the case was. 

We killed the time between check in and take off at the only food establishment in the entire terminal. We had drinks and nachos and said goodbye to all those we'd be leaving behind. We boarded the plane...

8/24- 7 am in Iceland

I woke up and we were in Iceland. There is but one town on the entire island as I could see. And but one road that led from that town on one side, to the airport on the other. Now, that may or may not be completely accurate, but this is just what I saw. We experienced just how cold it is up north and how expensive eating was going to be when we landed in Iceland. After I spent 17 bucks on smoked salmon and tea we headed for our connection. Next stop Stockholm

From the airport to the hotel we stayed in felt like such a debacle. We tackled the airport bus, and the Stockholm underground all in one go. It helps to know how to pronounce where you're trying to go in order to get better directions. When Simone said we were going to Sah-tra, they stared at her blankly. It's pronounced Sae-ah-trah. Back to the debacle-- we took a nap to head out for dinner later.

In hindsight, what we thought was cold that first night was actually quite reasonable considering we were away from the bay breeze. Vapiano was the only restaurant still open. After dinner we wanted to go to a place where there were a lot of bars or clubs to hang out...apparently they don't have an area like that in Stockholm. Or so we were told. -- This is why everyone loves New York!!! You can pick an area and find at least 5 places to go, and there's always food open! And it's cheap. ---  I'm digressing. We stroll around this place, that has like maybe 4 venues. We just want to dance!! These British guys walking close to us are talking about House Party "Are you talking about my hair?!" Of course Simmers confronts them. Lol but it was a good idea, because then I got into the club and drinks all night on the "clever one". There was also the "good looking one" and the "funny one" They were quite entertaining. Now it's a Wednesday night, I know people go out on Wednesdays. So why at 12 was the bar still empty? Because in Stockholm things don't pop off until like 2! Which is quite unfortunate during the week because their metro stops running. When we finally left Spy Bar that night we had to take a cab back, because there were no trains. Another point for NYCtransit. 

Day 2 in Stockholm

We woke up at 2 pm. I'm going to skip over our getting ready process and jump straight to the we-went-to-see-some-of-the-shows in the festival part. Fringe Festival... what exactly does that entail? Good question, I don't know. I imagine each Fringe Fest is something different. But I'm gonna go ahead and say that the artists they found for this, some of them were definitely on the Fringe. The Butoh performance we saw was 45 minutes long. I fell asleep around time check 10 minutes. She was STILL walking on stage. Are you kidding me? I wish I could say that the whole festival wasn't like that. But from what we saw, most of it was pretty weird shit.

This was the day we thought we saw Eric. You know tall...square of jaw...blonde of hair...Viking? Sulks in cemeteries and what not. Anywho...we're walking along, I don't really know what happened, but all of a sudden we were running away from the cemetery and seeking a street with way more light. Le sigh

Show night!

We tried to call it an early night that night. We had to be up early for our tech for the show, 7 am to be there at 9. Unfortunately it was an epic sleep fail on all our parts. I don't think anyone slept more than a couple hours. We were, however, quite prompt, for what was the biggest waste of my sleep time. The lighting designer was there. But the person running the lightboard wasn't, nor was the stage manager there.

After tech, instead of experiencing all that Sweden has to offer in the day time we went back to the hotel. To sleep. Again. We were well rested for the show.

The way the fest ran, there were specific time slots allotted for each performance, obviously, so whenever the show before your slot finished was when you got the stage. We got to the theater at 7:30 for our 9:30 show, and the slot ahead of us was done. So we had a nice run through with lights before the audience came in. We blasted Beyonce and were in general rambunctious black girls. It was pretty great. AND they loved us! Kaged was a huge hit at Stoff. Not only were we probably one of few if not the only black people, and American no less, in the program, we also did DANCE. Which wasn't so big in the Dance/Performance category. At the end of the piece, when we're all standing in our naked underwear, we got such a rousing applause we came out for a curtain call. They wanted and ENCORE (tell me do you want more?)

To celebrate a show well done we wanted to go out to dinner, it was like 10:30. Everything was closed so we kept it classy. McDonalds. We did have a round ...or two...of drinks and a little dancing. Oh! I almost forgot. This was the night some 50 year old man slipped something in the drink he bought Simmers. Lucky we're such smart girls.

Simmers: Titi taste this. I think there's something in it

Titi: It's laced with something, put it down

S: I should pour it out.

T: Put it down!

Me: If someone picks up a drink that's not theirs, off a table they aren't sitting at, they deserve whatever happens to them as a result.

Really though, you got to be more careful!

Our second rooftop show went not as smoothly on our part, but was just as well received as the premiere of Kaged! The audience was probably bigger than what we had in the theater, and there were quite a few people there just taking photos. Um sir, with the iPhone. We're not even dancing yet, you are not being stealthy. I see you taking snap shots. We ended our performances at Stoff with a nice flourish and left bird feathers in the dressing room for them to remember us by. They were pink. =) 

That night was also Simmers' 27th birthday!! We went to sleep. Lol. good thing we celebrated the night before. 

Day 5- Relocating...We on a Boat!

On Sunday we moved from Sätra to Slussen. To a boat. The youth hostel we stayed in had to be the most snatched room I've ever seen. The four of us couldn't be in the room at the same time unless we were laying down in the bunks. No more than 2 people could stand up at a time. 

We found some guys that were also staying on the boat with us, it was like 5 and they were leaving. We had just awaken from our, if you guessed nap you'd be right! By the time we'd dressed and left the boat the only thing open for dinner was Vapiano. Again. Now this is like night 3 of Vapiano for dinner. It's good, but I needn't spend $25 for pasta. Just saying. The guys come find us and we head to the boat docked next to ours. Patricia. Sunday night is GAY NIGHT aren't you excited! I think all four of us had been to our fair share of gay clubs. The Brits though, straight to the bar, for the only 2 straight men at the gay club. As well they should. Basically, hilarity and craziness ensued. And that was the night I got sick. Singing Lady Gaga on the boat deck. And before you ask, I was wearing long sleeves, a warm jacket, jeans, sneakers, and a scarf. damn...

That was the last of our insane craziness. We took it easy for the rest of the trip. Exploring Gamla Stan, Stockholm's medieval town. The Vasa Muskeet on Djügarden where the Vasa sailed into the musuem after 333 years on the bottom of the Stockholm harbor. It literally capsized, less than a mile from the dock, and then sank straight down, 115 ft from the surface. Sadly about 50 people drowned in places they couldn't escape. The Vasa museum was awesome, and I don't usually like museums. 7 floors with recreations and walk through exhibits of what things look like inside and how things worked on the ship.  

Finally, Finally! we were headed back to New York. All in all I say it was a pretty spectacular experience. Minus not meeting Eric Northman. And it being cold. And getting sick. And spending all my money. Those parts sucked. 

I'd travel with these heffas again o_0

Memorable Sweden Quotes

• Can't knock it, haven't tried it. That's what I tell Gierre all the time about eating pussy.
• I don't like people with dirty nails. It makes me think they've been doing evil things. 
• I feel like these are the men that will kidnap you and slay you with...a deer horn!
• I wanna get high -- I don't know, we might get shit laced with...deer horns!
• You know who you look like? You are the spitting image of...a Viking!
• Day two of Stockholm: Epic sleep fail.
• Guys I'm gassy...
• This was quite a night. Chased by vampires and cursed out by crackheads.
• His life says, "desperate, desperate, I am really desperate. Are there any 20 somethings I can drug?"
• I'm a caribou and I can rap. 
• Where did all the ice go?
• I don't like black things with white stuff coming out...white things, however...
• I know this is your home, but if you see guests coming, give them the right of way!
• Eric? Come over here. I'm tired of chasing yo ass through Sweden.
• What brings you to Stoff?
• I'm looking for tall, blonde, Viking? He has a bit of a fang...situation. Goes by...Eric?
• I heard there were Vikings.
• Got to be more careful.
• I have never been less curious about anything in my life. 
• She needs to go straight to his bed. Do not pass go, do not...actually, please collect your 200 dollars
• Gotta snatch 'em up.
• That guy looks like Matthew McConaughey 
• -- If you close your eyes and picture Matthew McConaughey, then yes.

the rest is still UNwritten