toes that twinkle.

i was a ballerina for thirteen of my young years.
i was okay, but probably too anxious and type A to really perform what was in my heart, but i've always followed direction well.
i cannot explain how important my choreographer was to me. so much, particularly, in retrospect.
rival studios produced dancers who hated themselves and their bodies. their choreographers limited expression and laughter. competition was THE THING and first place was the only discussion.
that was not the studio i knew.
i grew into a woman's body very young and very strikingly and i was never allowed to feel bad about the fact that i looked different.
i took on responsibilities at school and was a "smart girl", and they made me feel proud.
other dancers asked me for help, help when decisions hurt and were scary.
this was a kind of family; not how we were all raised, but how we would learn to care about others. i still love these women (although i knew them as girls), even though i've fallen out of touch with most.
i didn't look how ballerinas looked (...still don't), but i still had fierce technique (when i could concentrate) and a disarming stage presence.
i brought homework to rehearsal.
the biggest compliment was becoming "miss becky"; a student teacher who followed the teacher's lead, but became important to the young girls who learned routines by watching me sometimes.
i had a solo in a group production performance in "all that jazz" from 'chicago' (i was obviously velma). the movie came out at the end of that year (i think), and as my choreographer taught younger girls the dance, everyone wanted to know who would play miss becky's part.
no one asked who would be catherine zeta-jones.
i think my choreographer knew that i wasn't planning on dancing professionally, but she wouldn't let me leave my creative spirit. she knew exactly when to compliment and exactly when to criticize.
in my senior bio, my last year dancing there (at all, sadly) i wrote that i someday hoped to have little dancers of my own someday, learning under my choreographer.

i'm now facebook friends with my choreographer.
i cannot tell you how she makes me swell with pride and admiration.
not only is she an honest adult friend to her dancers, but she's an authentic woman.

a few years ago, when she knew that i was making a life for myself in new york, she told me about her oldest son.
i'd heard about him in my youth; she was young when she had him, and he'd moved to new york city to make a name for himself as a performer.

well.

that's her daughter, now.


i congratulated her, reacting from a gut feeling and forgetting that sometimes, social graces aren't politically correct.


she thanked me, and although it was an online chat, i felt her relief. and her pride.


she remarked with some of the most important words i've ever encountered:
"you know, when i was pregnant i didn't care about [her sex/gender identity]. why should i care now?"
i told her that i wanted to put her on a t-shirt. that every child should be so lucky to have a parent embrace their every being.

in an uproared world like now, these words sing with me, even today i am brought to tears.
she is a creative, business-smart woman with a self-made history and a motherly touch that pervades her every day life.


that is what i want. in my own career. somehow.

Walk to D'Feet ALS!

As you're probably accustomed, it is that time of year again!
My incredible, inspiring and pretty awesome brother Wes is leading his team, Absolutely Living Strong!!, in this year's Greater Philadelphia Walk to D'Feet ALS. This year, we'll be at Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia - home of the WORLD SERIES WINNING PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES! How PHANTASTIC! (Sorry, I had to...)
If you are able, please donate, join our team, and/or publicize our efforts! We're lucky enough to have a family friend who is willing to match our earnings up to $12,000 (can you believe it?!) - so can we do it? Last year, we were the biggest fundraiser of any private team, raising over $50,000 (better believe that!), and it'd be an honor to get anywhere close again.

The walk is NEXT Saturday, November 8th at 12pm. Do you have a moment to support us?
DONATE!: https://www.alsphiladelphia.org/NetCommunity/SSLPage.aspx?pid=524&tab=3&frsid=4099
MY PAGE!: http://community.alsphiladelphia.org/netcommunity/beckyrose
JOIN THE TEAM!: https://www.alsphiladelphia.org/NetCommunity/SSLPage.aspx?pid=524&tab=2&frtid=316
LEARN MORE ABOUT ALS: http://www.alsphiladelphia.org/NetCommunity/Page.aspx?pid=231

Wes has been living with ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) for several years now, and while there are challenges for him and our family, it has more importantly been an experience to make us stronger, and we've been able to make an impact on others in our local community. Any money or help you can give can change so many people's lives. You know this is a cause intimately important to me, and your support would mean the entire world to me!

Please feel free to forward to some generous hearts, and definitely let me know if you have any questions or stuff. :)

Thanks - you all rock!,
:)becky


PS - If you're a non-Philly person who wants to join the team, I'd be happy to help plan travel etc. Just let me know how I can help you be SO AWESOME. :) (If you could let me know before Monday, November 3rd, I could also try to help with overnight accommodations)
PPS - Apologies to those of you who reoccur in my social media realm - did not mean to harmfully SPAM!

three fortune cookie fortunes that i keep in my wallet:

what you do matters. all you need is to do it.

there are no shortcuts to any place worth going.

nothing is impossible to a willing heart.

and this is the quote i have taped to my computer at work:

we live very close together. so our prime purpose in this life is to help others. and if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them.
dalai lama

quickie.

have been investigating other social work blogs tonight. i plan on spending the rest of the night bouncing around and making a few small comments.
my best internet relationships have started small.
it's been helpful to see how other people are using themselves and their work, and then throw in blogs.
ooh, maybe i can put them on my google reader? this is a part of internet life that i know nothing about, especially the technical parts.
project!

ETA: i'm still at the self-care level of screening comments. i'm sure i'll grow out of it, but if you're relevant and appropriate, i assure you will be approved with a quickness.

half an idea, relatively non-sensical.

so i am fitfully unable to sleep*, which led to a wandering mind.
*had a sublime nap this afternoon after i PASSED THE LICENSING EXAM!!!!, so this is probably messing with my sleep schedule, also have no wine available to quiet brain to sleep

i started thinking about how we have this online access to endlessly proliferating public relationships. i'm thinking specifically about facebook and twitter (and blogs, to a more limited degree), mostly because i really dislike myspace. we have the option, in these social media spaces, to acknowledge other friends/followers/minions so that anyone accessing our space notices these acknowledgments. i see when you write on someone's facebook wall and, depending on privacy settings, can see what you've written, and if there is some historical exchange. i see when you respond to someone else's tweet, and can track what inspired your response. i see who you tag in notes, and who you link to in blog posts. i am also aware of when you respond to me publicly, and when you choose a private space to continue a conversation.
there's something rich here about the control machinations of privacy settings, which will be tickled for my later review.

as i was drifting to what is apparently not sleep, i was wondering about an online interaction i'd witnessed earlier this weekend, as an outsider to what seemed like a developing romantic (or at least flirtatious) something. i was curious and wanted to ask more, find out about how it was going, was it going, what are the stats... but wasn't sure the etiquette. if i am an ambient party to a 2-part conversation that happened in a "public" social media space, am i welcome to comment, to jack-knife myself into it? if it is a personal matter that has nothing to do with my person? i feel like an ongoing mets vs. phillies argument is fair game for anyone and has nothing inherently personal about it (aside from a small bit of pride).
but acknowledging your private-in-public interaction publically within my space? sure, i can use the private channels to get the gossip, but why should i? why does it become supra-dramatic in a pubic sphere? commenting on your wall about your wall posts with your boytoy is abrupt and honest, and elicits coy public responses and flailing private emails. at least, in my experience.
back in my hilariously dramatic early college life, livejournal was that public sphere where i splattered just enough of my private life to appear interesting and hopefully garner attention. livejournal, i have learned, is one of the most dramatic online journal communities in existence, but i feel like xanga has that same kind of feel. how does this happen? how do certain domains create dramatic fools, while others are supportive communities, or uninvolved tentacles?
honestly, i've really appreciated watching other people grow in and out of their public journaling experience with livejournal like i did. it's the main reason why i only read my friends' journals any more, haven't faithfully read communities in maybe a year, and am still wary about my long-term relationship with mine (ed. note: the drama was removed from the public sphere long ago). but to watch others come and go, be passive agressive and provocative, be boring and detailed... utterly interests me. not specifically the content, but the process. the behavior pattern inherent in their public journaling life.
i use the word 'journal' and not 'blog' specifically.
but when is it drama, and when is it a harmless status update?

and, more personally, why do i want to know more about some online lives than i do others? why do i want to be a part of the public acknowledgment? it doesn't change the friendship. or if it does, how does it? if i'm not a public friend, who am i? why do i care about some people's public friendships, and have yet to consider the possibility that people outside my online sphere have outsiders, too?

i will have to return to this, since i'm finally yawning and making less sense, but i guess my current take home point is that i want to start learning more about how people have studied online inter-personal life phenomenons. i know there is tons of research (or at least, a fair slew of folks who can thank facebook for their Ph.D.), i just need to get down to finding it and seeing how i feel about it, and if i can add anything to it.

undifferentiated

i come home tonight, after an excellent friend-date.
a friend from college; we are both actualizing our capacity to connect and then space. to allow for an evening of revelry and brilliance, and then tap each other a month from now for a small hit further.

i giggle at myself, proud of a blossoming 'grown up friendship': one that requires sparse maintenance, but occasional fervent attention.
this is what my family has shown me. my immediate family can, occasionally, appear as a small cult - impenetrable or incoherent to the outside, but super-fun and supportive and effing awesome on the inside.
once my middle brother married (the one, of the three of us, for whom it would've taken the miracle that is his wife), he relieved to me his comfort of being in a confirmed pair and wondered when i would "come over to the dark side" with a significant other and fold into our family's pattern. without friends, spending time only with our immediates, settling into the confined neighborhood where they all live now.

i answered by silently pouring myself a new glass of wine.

little seems to fit for me right now. i find myself upturned and anxious and without labels and unsure of words in my friendships and lets-call-them-relationships-but-not-to-anyone-else. i am acting out and pushing in... fighting like a 7 year old to fit into whatever won't fit, and defying that which might just logically accomodate.

it has been asked many times of me, enough to warrant its own separate entry:
what do you want?
...what do you do?
and how, how do these things make me a composite of who i am?
(well, that one is mostly for me, in all fairness.)

tonight, i am mostly happy. i had a great night with a marvelous friend.
i am snuggled on my considerably rockin' couch, wondering if it would be more fulfilling to share this night with a someone.
i don't know.
i have always been hesitant to let myself know. it's weird being raised as a supremely independent woman without the context of a definition or social place. my mom was never in this place. this part of life in my sisters-in-law's lives are unknown to me.
perhaps, like most relatively single women, i don't know how to be (relatively) single and fabulous.
but very fortunately, i've can feign that i've got the rest of it down pat.

un-dissected.

last night, i returned to the bread and butter of my college social life.
dancing with my gay male friends till 2am and then eating crap (this time, at a diner) until about 3:30am.
my mom often suggests that this has contributed to my un-married, non-committed status.
i like to think there's a little more complexity to it, but that's not my current point.

near the end of our meal, our attention was caught by two men fighting across the street.
the kind of fight created by two people in love: one person who is hurting, one person who is manipulating, and the probable addition of tequila.
they flailed, they touched, they avoided touch, they backed up and pressed against a lamp post, they yelled, they looked away, they attempted kisses and avoided kisses, brushed away tears and begged to leave together and defied and needed space.
they were locked in this tango for at least thirty minutes, on the same corner in hell's kitchen. we paid our check and not-so-suavely glided across the street to hear more. as a crazy guy selling roses saddled up to us, i plopped in a cab, tapping out for the evening. one friend texted me not much later to let me know that the fighting duo had finally gone home together. manipulator won, and displeased in love got in the same cab.
"he went home with him", was the text i received.
my response?
"don't we always?"