While watching the clip I recorded of myself participating in a virtual vogue class this past Sunday, I realized with some humor and slight dismay that my execution very much reminiscent of A Chorus Line. Somewhere I think in the muscle memory of my monkey brain I really wanted channel a can-can moment.
When I was about 8 years old I went to NYC with my family, and we saw the Radio City Rockettes, as any good tourist does. I was dazzled by the seemingly inhuman way they were able to divide their legs from their torsos to propel themselves in a way that resembled toy soldiers. I went home kick KICK kicking and would practice in my room.
As much as I was a dork growing up, by the grace of God I did not become a certified ‘theater kid’. Although my mother’s obsession with Broadway did lend itself to me in some ways. I grew up listening to the soundtrack of Rent, Annie, Les Miserables. This lil devil also brought the PHANTOM OF THE OPERA dvd to my daycare’s ~movie day~. I think I thought the Phantom was romantic in a dark twisted misunderstood kind of way; but as an adult I reflect back now and think “Jesus that guy was kinda creepy.”
I am on the verge of moving out of my room off of Melrose, and into my own studio in Echo Park. I can’t wait to be pants-less while cooking, this is my dream <3. The move has been stressful to manage in between all other //feelings// & stressors. But I’m proud of myself that some way in hell, I’ve managed to not be evicted or wind up living in a motel.
I’m actively trying to reduce my internal stress so I don’t have a heart attack, but MOSTLY so that my skin won’t look like shit anymore. The hormonal acne has been off the charts; appearing on my cheeks, lining my jaw/neck, and on my BACK?? ugh. But it’s okay, I managed to hit up a Beverly Hills dermatologist who hooked me up with a prescription for treatment. You’re a real one Dr. Stoll :’)
I encountered some not so great vibes from a toxic individual this weekend. I’d been trying to give them a chance and a chance and a chance, but it seems like the un-called-for digs that are so subtle that if I retaliate I see like the crazy one is starting to get worse. The comments this person said stayed with me all Saturday as I was mulling them over. I’m learning to see this dynamic for what it is, as toxic and abusive. This normalization of people being mean and getting away with it is gross. I’m not in high school anymore (at least I hope), and so I can’t tolerate shit like that anymore.
It seems like an exaggeration, but little comments like that can send me into full-blown self shame cycles. Why would I let some toxic person do this to me? Why do I want to still somehow make me like me? And that my friends is on people-pleaser childhood wounds that we recognize, and are having none of.
I’ve been through so much turmoil and emotional uncertainty within the past few weeks, that I can’t be an emotional punching bag for someone who doesn’t even LIKE me.
This weekend we also got back into the Postmate grind out of necessity, but hopefully it is short-lived. I also (stealthily) watched all of season 2 of Special on Netflix. The humor feels very cringe in like an out-of-touch Millenial-way, sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me that I’m not laughing. The jokes feel unfamiliar, like they are speaking in a different langauge. It borders on this sort of realism and campiness that it can decide on that feels really jarring. But alas, now that I’ve finished ALL of Degrassi, I am in need of a new show. (To whoever may be reading this, send me recs, I beg of you.)
Excited to share pics of my digs when I can 🙂 But anyway ta-ta for now. X