Archive for January, 2010

January 28, 2010

I almost killed someone.

Her face flushed beet red. Her hands flew up into her mouth and her body vibrated as if the chair was moving beneath her. Her glasses began to fall from her nose. And there I was, face to face with her, our noses mere inches, as I tried to dance away her anxiety.

Part of me wanted to stop and hug her, telling her it was all right, while the other part wanted to run, to escape the law, avoiding having to explain how I gave a senior citizen a heart attack.

I didn’t mean to scare her, to pop up out of nowhere, but how else was I suppose to get people’s attention?

As the music blared over the loud speaker finally giving way to my cue to enter into the theatric arena, I flung the doors wide and came bursting through. I moved once, twice, spun and stomped, still, all eyes were glued to the stage wondering what was going on.

I slithered further down the aisle, and only a few heads turned. I threw my leg up and kicked. A girl’s eyes grew wide, most likely wondering how I did not split my pants, or something more delicate.

Still, their attention had eluded me.

I went in for the kill.

That is when I popped up on her, surprising the theatre into accepting my presence. And after seeing the sheer terror in her eyes, I flinched. I moved towards the stage, trying to put my feeling of cradling her in my arms behind me.

The lights were dimmer and I could see an ocean of faces. I stared daggers into them. I taunted them, tantalized them. Drew them closer with my gaze, and then I jumped.

I heard a gasp.

It was me.

My hand was losing grip and I thought my head would fly into the stage. I thrust my legs down and landed in a perfect seated position. I got up, flipped out and went for my next trick.

I planted my right hand on the ground, and kicked my left leg towards my face. My hand slipped again and my elbow bent. Using the momentum of my body, I thrust it back towards the ground, wondering how the stage became an ice skating ring. I jumped to my feet and moved on.

I squatted, thrust my hips up, and stopped on my head, legs in a spread eagle, bobbing to the music. I laughed thinking:

I am bobbing my head back and forth and it’s planted on the ground. This is pretty cool!

I did a pivot and was back right-side-up.

I moved to my right to do my next move. I hit a trash can.

I laughed to myself thinking:

This stage is really out to get me tonight. This means war.

I moved over to the speakers. It was time to do my favorite move and I was ready to hold it out.

I kicked my leg in the air and reached for it with my hand. It escaped. My foot went flying back towards the ground, trying to run away from me. With a twist of the hip, I threw my leg back up and grabbed at it, forcing it to obey my commands.

I leaped to the left, leg still in hand, and tossed my foot towards the floor. It ricocheted off the ground and I was airborne for a few seconds.

It was glorious.

I then got a hold of the music:


I dug into my memory bank and pulled out the only thing I could think of – back handspring, punch, Arabian (back tuck with a half twist)

I came crashing down to the stage, completely missing my feet. My butt jiggled as it landed on the wood and bounced back up. I struck a pose disguising my folly. I thought to myself:

Wow, I haven’t done one thing right, yet, this is extremely fun.

I got up, found my cue in the music and danced until my heart was content. Well, besides the fact that my memory was eluding me again.

I missed moves, added others and completely lost myself in the music. I didn’t care, I was having fun.

And then as the song neared its end, I sauntered towards the platform, planted my hand on it cold steel surface, turned back to the crowd and mouthed the final words, disappearing into the darkness.

It was amazing.

I had made so many mistakes that I had no choice but to go with the flow. Although my mind calculated my follies, my body hushed every anxious thought, soothing it over with an endless supply of serotonin.

Everything I had planned went completely wrong, and I completely loved it.

I craved it.

The beautiful mistakes were showing me, shaping me as I moved along. They challenged me to fail and I challenged them to toss me another mishap. It was as if my body was at war against itself, each limb being controlled by its own person power source.

I fought to bring them all together in unison. And when they defied my efforts, I punished them with a disciplinary rod of stubbornness. I was determined to make it through, even if in sections.

Never in my life had I been so ecstatic with mistakes. The mishaps were like an invited poison, purposely injected to see how I would deal with and surpass the effects.


And from that moment forth, I invited anything that would come my way. My inhibitions were lost and I could do nothing but accept every new challenge. For it wasn’t the mistakes that were ruling me anymore, it was the creativity of the recovery.

I loved being in recovery!

Random Moments of Preview Night

–          I took pictures of unsuspecting individuals, especially eating food.

–          The fist pounder threw her hair clip passed the wall it usually hits, we spent half her song trying to locate it between the shelf of props

–          I tripped over the bench in the last song of ACT I, I think only the Heavenly Voice noticed.

–          I wore eye/guyliner for the first time. It took the makeup artist a few takes as I kept blinking and flinching thinking she would stab me in the eye. (Oh yeah, I looked pretty dapper in my man-makeup)

–          I forced some girl to dance with me at the end although she heavily objected. I simply dragged her onstage by force, literally. She seemed happy afterwards

–          My phone rang during the performance and, oddly enough, the tone ended up sort of matching perfectly with the song. I twisted my head in amazement. I had also totally forgot I left it on the prop shelf. The main director is gonna slap me with a banana for that.

–          I brought my costumes home to wash. Four days of built up sweat and body funk is just nasty. I can taste myself with each wardrobe change.

–          I tried to stop laughing, thinking about the fist pounders blog on singing barefoot.  I kept wondering if it is really true that people are just staring at her feet during the Finale B.

–          Can you believe that I just, technically, finished my FIRST theatre show? I am officially in Rookie Status!

–          I took three Tylenol Pm’s to sleep before Preview night, I only got three hours of sleep. What is with that?

–          I had on guyliner all night at work and didn’t realize it until 8am this morning.

Things I am Looking Forward to on Opening Night

–          My mother seeing me perform on this type of stage for the first time

–          My sisters cheering in the crowd

–          Seeing one of my oldest friend, who is squeezing her legs to hold in her baby just to see me

–          Performing the opening routine for the third time – third time’s the charm

–          Eating free food backstage

–          Guzzling water after two minutes of craziness

–          Knowing my mistakes make me more creative – I can’t wait to see what is thrown my way tonight!

  • I wonder if it will be a pickle

–          Clean Costume!