For the Love of Spandex

I am a dancer. I have always been a dancer. When I was little my whole goal in life was to either be a Rockette or Madonna. There are many embarrassing pictures of me as a child in spandex monstrosities from various ice shows and dance recitals. Some of the costumes we used to have to wear should have been reported to the proper authorities as cruelty to children. One of my fondest memories of my Grandpa Hagedorn was always of my interpretative dance in the living room while he played his accordion. I used to pretend that the sparkly ceilings in their house was a part of my set design in Radio City Music Hall.

I am really frustrated with my dancing right now. I know that as with all things in life there are ups and downs and plateaus and learning curves. I know that when I start to suck a little bit it means that I am challenging myself and growing as a dancer. And I have thankfully gotten to the point where I don't need success and acceptance to validate the fact that I am good enough. Last night I was very tired and didn't do very well and it made me regress a little and my self-worth somewhat plummet.
Lately the frustration is that I don't have the time or money to go to lessons or camps or competitions. I am not progressing as fast as I could be. I am not yet a rockstar. When I lived in Denver I danced about 20 hours a week with some of the best dancers in the world. I now live in the middle of lindy-hop-nowhere, the closest venue there is I have to stalk leads to dance with because the guy to girl ratio is a little skewed and we don't have enough lesbians to balance it out. I also tend to get overwhelmed and start to catastrophize sometimes. There is just so much to learn and so much to master. I still need to memorize Dean Collin's Shim Sham, the Tranky Doo, Wabash Blues and master the Big Apple enough so I can teach it. Most of you don't know what any of that means and that's okay.
So basically I am also too tall and weigh too much. This has always been my story in my world of dance and figure skating. It's not that I think I am fat by any stretch of the imagination; it's just that things that weigh less are easier to toss around. And perhaps it's also that the dance world seems to be filled with tiny little girls who weigh 80 lbs, and when you throw me into the mix, the song one of these things is not like the others begins to play in everyone's head. I come from a long line of strapping German farm women that were not meant for Broadway or Disney on Ice. My buns of steel weigh a heck of a lot more than most people think. Cheryl my naturopath told me that I have such big shoulders and a load bearing frame so I can bear heavy burdens. This has come in handy more often than not. Unfortunately this has cut my career as a pairs skater very short being as though most American Gladiators wouldn't be caught dead in sequined spandex pants. Except for a little known Gladiator named "Flair" of course.

As always I like to look at the esoteric implications of all this. Perhaps maybe it's not that I need to be less but that I need people in my life that can be more. And maybe they really can lift me I just don't let them. I have a really hard time letting people help carry my burdens. I guess it's because I think I am too much and not enough all at the same time.

Okay Jesus here's what I need. I need a dance and teaching partner that lives near me who is strapping and beefcake and can toss me around. I would also like him to be a rockstar but without the attitude. Basically I want Peter Strom with Scott Russell's personality and he needs to live in Occidental and be hecka good at collegiate shag. If anyone could get that arranged that would be fantastic. I would also like a world class dance troupe that I could compete with that meets in my living room and doesn't have a 120 lb. weight limit. I would like to be the costume designer of course if at all possible. And I need lots of money so I can go to at least 1 camp/competition per month. That will be all.