I just wanted to pop on for a breif update.
I had today off, and I'm off tomorrow too. If I'm lucky, I'll get on tomorrow and do a bit of writing, although the need to prepare for Imbolic, which is in two days, is probably more pressing. Still, I've been in the mood to write and since a good friend suggested that maybe since that's what i've been feeling, maybe that's what I should do...I'm going to take the advice and let loose a little bit tomorrow.
In other news, I've fallen in love with the TV show Glee. I watched the first season over the last week. I really liked it. I'm a fan of musical theater, so its right up my alley. I like the show because I don't think they take it too seriously, and honestly, I don't either. I don't think the acting is superior or anything, but I do enjoy it and sometimes it makes me laugh out loud, and that's always a good thing.
I found out today that Kitten's mom is taking us to the ballet at the end of the month. I'm so excited I can't even begin to tell you. I almost cried. Its been so long since I've had a chance to go see a preformance, I think I'll enjoy it. It was a timely thing, too, because today Oscelot and I were talking over lunch and I was rather brooding over the futility of my writing projects at the moment. I've got a tip off to a reigonal press that might be interested in what I've got right now, so I'm going to look into it. I'm going to keep plugging away at the novel I've got going now, although I'm already certain that the first rewrite is going to have to be epic. I hate the way i've formatted it...anyway. We were talking about career options, and I was trying to be hoenst with myself.
Let's face it, even if I do get published, its not likely that I'm going to be the JK rowling of lesbian fiction. I mean, I think I'm good, and I'd take it, but its not liekly, which means that in time, I have to find soemthing to do that has nothing to do with hanging my hat on being a novelist. I don't want to work in restaurants all my life. Its not that I have anything against it, I just...I honestly don't think that's where I am going to spend my whole life. I'm shy enough (go on, laugh) that working with people on a daily basis is emotionally taxing. At least, I'd like a different role if I ever work with the public.
Still, I'm frightened because teaching, the option I had always considered, is likely going to elude my grasp as well, given how late I'll finish my education. I'll find something, I'm sure, but I'm frustrated soemtimes thinking about it.
The point of the conversation I was having with the Oscelot was that the three things I really love doing aren't really what you'd call "career options" for me. I mean, I love writing, and as a tech writer I could make money, but it isn't the same. Its the path I'm choosing because that's the one that seems like the best option. The other things I love? Not a chance. Most of you know I like to sing. If I'm honest, I'm a pretty good singer too. I've had good training, and my voice has held up well despite me smoking the top and bottom of my vocal range away. I love it, and it makes me happy, but I know that singing as a career option is absolutely out of the question. The other thing I love, dance, has been out for so long I shouldn't even think of it anymore.
I injured myself when I was a teenager. I couldn't keep preforming. I was off my feet for far too long. I missed what little shot I could have had. Outside of that, I'm far too old to be a ballet dancer, and that's what I truly love. I mean (and go ahead, laugh again) I'm an excellent hip hop dancer, and I can tap and jazz and all those other fun things. But ballet has always been a passion, and now when I look into the mirror I see myself and I know that even if I wanted to dance with our community ballet I'd have to loose weight and seriously tone up. No, I know I'm not fat. But there's thin and there's dancer thin, and that's one thing I'm not. I could do ballroom, but then, that's not a paying job, its a hobby that requires more money than I have. A lot more money than I have. It also requires a partner, and in my case that would mean a male who was willing to devote his time to that, who was strng enough to lift, hold and do all those other things with me a partner has to do and also is taller than me, by a good enough height that we look normal together on the dance floor, so about three inches or so...putting him at six foot or taller. Yeah...not looking like a viable hobby option even if I did have the money.
So the trip to see the ballet, however painful, will be a beautiful and enjoyable experience beacause its something that I love. Its something I love more than singing and something I understand more than writing. Remember how I said a few posts ago I'm a tactile person? The pure, unadulterated beauty of the movement of the human body is something that truly sets me on fire. Not sexually, but as a person. Watching the way people move is always interesting to me, and watching someone do it beautifully is something that takes my breath away. I wish I still had it in me.
I remembered (and I was telling Oscelot about this) the other day I asked Flyguy if he thought he could pick me up. After asking hwo much I weighed and receiving my answer, he seemed fairly certain he could, after he ascertained I wasn't asking him to military press me over his head or anything odd like that. (Why would I want that? I'm not sure...) Anyway, Hedgewitch had started this funny joke during flashdance about how she was going to get Flyguy in a pair of tights and dancing by the end of the summer. She was convinced that we could teach him to dance, after all, I have the experience...Anyway, I asked him out of curiosity and then spent the rest of the day in a dreamworld after he answered he thought he could. I mean, I had this stupid thought that if I asked him, maybe just maybe he would pick me up, lift me, and I could feel that feeling I did all that time ago...that feeling that I miss so much, that I was something beautiful. That I could make my body something beautiful that was more than me...
Anyway, its a daydream, and its silly, and sometimes I can't help myself. I'll wake up from a dream about dancing, or singing or whatever, and I have this moment where I feel utterly lost because I feel like I wasted so many chances when I was younger and I had no idea what talent or happiness could become if you wanted it to. Its good I'm not a parent...I'd probably become one of the ones that lives through their kids. That's never fair. I don't regret the life I have now. I love it. I love Kitten and Oscelot. I have a great marriage and wonderful friends. I just think...well, I think sometimes that I want to feel that freedom again...the way I feel when I sing or dance and I can't describe it because there aren't words for how you feel when you're like that.
I suppose I'll have to learn though, and maybe trying to know that feeling in words will give me my footing back with my writing, because sometimes I feel like its the only thing I have left of all the talents I've squandered, and then I think that maybe I don't even have that left...I'm never sure. But I'm going to keep after it, because honestly, when I write, I almost feel that feeling.
Sometimes I create a place that is mine, and it doesn't belong to anyone else but me. Everyone else can touch it, or see it, or hear it, but I'm the one that shapes the world. I love that feeling.
Look at me...I popped on to tell you I'm watching a silly television show and that I get to go see a ballet and I end up wandering on a tangent of the things that I love. The things that I miss. I must have needed a confession. I'll say this. Lately I've felt compelled to go dancing at one of our local clubs. I've wanted to go karaoke for a while. Maybe I should. It might do me some good.
I'm to bed, and tonight, there's no telling what i'll dream of. But I've got a hope that I can rest, and be in that world of mine, and know its always there. Even if its only when I'm sleeping.
Wow. I'll turn off the crazy now.