Happy Easter! Happy Passover! Happy Buddha!
Last night as I sat on a tour bus amongst five or so, semi attractive male dancers from the Lord of the Dance troupe, I thought to myself, gee, the universe works in the strangest of ways. Heh.
Ahhhh…Let me go back.
For those of you who knew me as a high schooler you will very well remember how OBSESSED I was with Riverdance when it came out. I only knew of it thanks to PBS and the thousand times they aired it, and the chance of a show to ever come to Montana was slim to negative 3435. So every time it was on PBS I HAD to watch it. Eventually I bought the soundtrack, listening to it night day, dreaming and pretending I was some bad ass Irish step dancer. There even exists footage somewhere in the Gillespie household of me working out some of my own Riverdance moves while I watched the program on PBS, subsequently followed by me having a heart attack. GOD help us all if it ever surfaces.
So anyway…if you’re familiar with Riverdance, then you know that the lead of the troupe back in the 90s Michael Flatley decided there needed to be a show that was super SEXY so he left Riverdance and started Lord of the Dance which is still going strong today. I also owned that soundtrack and found a few weekends in college while living in the dorms getting drunk and Irish step dancing with a few friends until the people below us came a-knocking for us to “pipe the fuck down.” I attended a few knock-off shows that came through Bozeman that were enough to quench my thirst for tappy tap tappy dancing, but I wanted to see the REAL DEAL. Then a show came to Billings. My roommate and I drove down and almost missed the show, having to take the most ridiculous, mountainous detour thanks to a logging truck accident. Can you imagine the devastation had we missed that? So FINALLY I got to see a REAL show! The Real Lord of the Dance and it was AWESOME. As I assumed it would be…but from that point forward I think I had finally had my fill. My obsession waned and my need to get drunk and tap dance grew less and less–sadly.
Fast forward to my life a few years back, not really having given my days of a Riverdance loving “kid” much thought when I learned that one of Sterling’s studio acquaintances just so happens to be in the North American tour of Lord of the Dance. The show has come to Portland a few times and he (Sterling’s friend) always comps us free tickets. Last night was one of those nights and, well, having an “in” is a surefire way to wind up on a tour bus. Man, what I wouldn’t have given to have experienced that as a 19 year old who always hoped to be a troupe groupy, but somehow as a 32 year old, while it was fun to talk and joke around with the cute, baby-faced 22 year old dancers, I wasn’t nearly in hog heaven as I thought I’d be. But cool, nonetheless. Thanks universe, but you were a little late on that, dontcha think?
And as I watched the show (live) for the third or so time I still can’t figure out what the hell the show is about. This is basically how I interpret the show. So there’s a pretty girl and a pretty boy who each have their own entourage of pretty boys and girls and they keep getting harassed by a bunch of thugs dressed like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles because their leader has a hot sister who wants the pretty boy and the leader himself wants to be the best dancer but the pretty boy has some sweet moves and no one can out tap him. But then they rumble and the leader of mutant thugs steals his bejeweled, besequinned wrestling belt and proclaims himself best dancer. However the pretty boy picks himself back up and the two have a TAP-off until the pretty boy wins, and then the pretty girl and all the other pretty boys and girls do an amazing synchronized dance to the song Lord of the Dance (because he IS the lord of the dance) and it blows everyone’s minds. Tap-OFF!!
Today I woke up with a renewed vow that I would drag my ass off the food train of death and stop making meals out of Cheetos and gummy bears. Its hard. So frightfully hard. I made my breakfast, wrote out the rest of the meals I’d have for the day and set off to work. Only to realize I’d forgotten my snacks. No bigs though…I had my breaky and my lunch was at work. I was starving by lunch and made myself a big ass salad and two bites into it I wanted to take things down to vomit town. My avocado was way too ripe so it was the texture of Nickelodeon slime and part of my chicken was undercooked. Yuck…so despite knowing how wasteful we as a species are, I had to chuck it. Bleh! V. maddening. So toast and almond butter for me. Which is better than a bag of chips but I dont really eat the bread stuffs anymore because wheat is murder!! (On my guts and my skin–and Cheetos aren’t??? Yeah i know!!) But it was either that or risk being hungry all afternoon and turning into a hypoglycemic bitchface…which happens.
The point of all this? (Is there ever?)
I read the paper this afternoon and my horoscope said this:
Holy shizz balls!! Do horoscopes see dead people, too? I feel like I definitely exercised some flexibility….but consideration for others? I totally stole the slice of bread from someone in the office. Just one though. That’s pretty considerate, right? Im really glad I didn’t run to the corner store to get junk food because that “the choices you make reflect who you are” line is pretty harsh! Dodged a bullet there! So far….anyway.
Wouldn’t it be awesome if I blogged EVERY SINGLE DAY…FOREVER?? Probably not. Someone (as in a cat) just barfed and it smells like…Death.
So I’m really lamenting the fact that we don’t have HBO because season 2 of Game of Thrones began. We just finished season one and holy sweet baby chuck norris…it’s like the best show EVER. EVER in the history of EVER. But that’s ok…I’m going to read all the books first…before I take on watching season two and just re watch season one….like ten times.
I am a nerd for the arts. The ballet especially. I love watching toned people in skimpy costumes hop around to music. For realz. But to be serious, no, really I love the ballet. I’ve always loved everything about it and I’ve always secretly wished someone would have dropped loads of money on me as a kid to take lessons. But, sadly, no one did. Anyway, today I and a friend went to see Swan Lake in Portland and it was pretty bad ass. I’ve always gone to their Nutcracker production in December because it’s AMAZING, so Swan Lake did not disappoint at all.
The only issue I really want to bitch about right now is the GOD DAMN PARENTS who think it’s a good idea to instill the wonders of the ballet in their 5 year old children by bringing them to a two hour production of people DANCING. I’m not sure if these parents thought that their kids were going to be entranced and somehow magically silenced for two hours…but they were not. Cuz they’re kids. I’ve never met a 5 year old…or a kid under 10 for that matter that has an attention span of more than about 15 minutes. Ballet or waiting room at the dentists–it’s all the same to them. We were surroundedd by loads of REALLY young children who talked, and cried, and yell whispered, and squirmed throughout the whole show. I wanted to seriously turn into Storm from X-men and bring down the fucking THUNDER. There was actually a point where someone’s child started crying and instead of high-tailing it out into the lobby they just let the kid cry it out. Holy balls. If I was a dancer on the stage I would have halted the whole show and been like, ‘BITCH, PLEASE!!” The kids directly in front of us had no problem asking their parents non stop for a play by play of the show. Older sister says in a very loud yell whisper, “mommy, what’s next? who’s that? why he do that? is he bad? where are they going? is he gonna drop her? is that katie? where’s katie? is katie up there?” Meanwhile her 4 year old sister eventually made her way to the floor doing god knows what, but I secretly hoped she was eating Skittles off the floor. Haha…totally kidding. Maybe. Anyway…all I could think about was how glorious it’d be if the ballet, theater, whatever could offer just one performance for attendees that was ages 12 and up.
Oh yeah…I also want to say that Maine State Ballet always has the most incredible costumes ever. They do a really amazing job and they’re always proud to note that they’re made here in the state and not by the bloody hands of some slave child in China. Go Maine. The bad guy in Swan Lake…whatever his name is I”m too lazy to look it up, sported the most awesome sparkly, ruby leg warmers in the history of leg warmers ever. I totally wanted to hunt him down and ask if he was going to “keep them”. Totally jelly!
Yay…my favorite holiday has come and gone. It was the first St. Patricks day I think I’ve ever had where I wasn’t working so of course I made Sterling get up early so we could go to what I will consider the most boring parade I’ve ever gone to. I REALLY wanted to have an UBER St. Patty’s day experience and so I thought going to the parade in Portland (which is host to its own large Irish-American population) would be a good way to kick it off. Sterling wound up admitting he would rather attend Cut Bank Montana’s Lewis and Clark parade 1000 times over than have to sit through what was about 15 minutes of two bag pipe marching “bands”, a bunch of police officers dressed in their formal uniforms, people carrying flags, and an Irish step dancing troupe. There was an already drunk guy behind us who was clearly caught up in his own Irish pride who kept making this weird, hollering noise that sounded like a stunted version of Xena Warrior Princess’s war cry every time something went by that he liked. It was beyond frightening
After that amazing shit wrapped up, we tried to score some bubble tea which I haven’t HAD in ages, but the damn cafe didn’t open until noon!!! WHAT THE WHAT. I was super bummed. So we ran into Dunkin Donuts which I pretty much consider the butthole of coffee establishments and grabbed some beverages and St. Patty’s themed sugar bombs. I had to pee really bad so I asked the Brazillian lady behind the counter if I could use the bathroom (they keep it locked–(to prevent homeless people from crashing there)). I asked her if the restroom was available and she looked at me like I had 5 heads and said, “I don’t know where.” Obviously she didn’t understand what I asked so I said, “Can I use the bathroom.” And she looked around the store like she was searching for something and said, “I don’t know where.” FUCK. whatever….
So because the weather was so nice we ran to the store and had ourselves a little picnic at what I have dubbed dog poop beach. We used to frequent another beach in the winter because we could just park right up on shore, but they got rid of the parking so we went somewhere else and apparently everyone and their DOG goes there. Soft chuckle. We walked around the beach and through the clam flats and then came home and played outside until we drove to a friend’s house where I got really drunk and played ping pong. surprisingly I’m really bad ass at ping pong when I’m inebriated. It was a fun day. And now it’s 70 degrees and I don’t know why I’m not outside right now…so…pax out, betches.