bonerville

So here is the enthralling story of yesterday.

I had tech rehearsal for Capitol Movement at NOVA Annandale Campus - we are performing in the DC Jazz & Tap Festival this coming weekend (check us out!). I then proceeded to my next rehearsal with Tony Powell in midtown DC. It was a partnering rehearsal and because he rarely gives us clear direction or counts, I ended up getting kneed to the forehead - straight shot right to the melon. Needless to say, I was a little loopy after that. Maybe that's why the rest of my night was so confusing... But all this is besides the point.

Now in my newly single life, I am all about being completely single. No more pretending to be in a relationship when I'm not, no more grey area with the ex, no more texting all day long which is really drawn out flirting which is really unnecessary - to the state of my absolute freedom of course. No more checking in or always thinking about someone else's feelings. I'm all about sharing joy and good moments with the one you love, ("Happiness only real when shared." -Chris McCandless) but right now I'm basking in utter solitude and undertaking the prerequisite solo quest of finding satisfaction and confidence in myself.

Moving on... I've been on a few dates since the breakup to test the waters, see what's out there. Some have been right on point but then it starts moving too fast so I cut it off just as quick. Others have been awful and dry and almost like work. What am I doing to myself? Last night I went on a date with a guy I will call Red.

After rehearsal I was absolutely starving (I had only eaten an egg and piece of toast all day!) and after getting knocked out in rehearsal I probably could have eaten a horse. Except not a horse because I love horses. An ATM had eaten his debit card so he had to call in a favor from a friend for us to go out to eat since of course, Red's southern hospitality taught him to ALWAYS be the one to pay. Which was 100% fine by me - sh*t happens and we dined at Sequoia on the Georgetown Waterfront essentially for free and I'm all about the hookup. The conversation was great and never forced, he laughed at my subtle jokes, and took it like a man with my brutal call-outs. I tend to do that even with people I have just met - oops. The bartender (his friend) was mixing us Long Beach Iced Tea shots every ten minutes so after about 184 of those, a glass of Riesling, and a gin & tonic, I was good to go.

We wandered out into DC and decided to walk to the Lincoln Memorial. Now this is one of my favorite things to do - roam around the streets of DC while slightly/extremely tipsy to the monuments and tourist sites and take them in like the cute Asian tourist I am. Peace sign! Ten Brownie points for the new guy.

We read aloud the Second Inaugural Address and Gettysburg Address. On the walk home, it started to rain - I mean heavily downpour tennis ball-sized raindrops. Oopsies again! He walked me back to my car and kissed me like he meant it in the rain. Definitely one of my favorite fantasies... so circa Nicholas Sparks The Notebook... which happens to be one of his favorite authors? Hmm...

He did the sweet follow-up text on my drive home and I felt pretty lighthearted about the situation. When I got home, I did a little Facebook review - duh, who wouldn't? I found out he had been in a relationship and seemed to have been hanging out with this girl as of last week. What could this mean? So naturally, I asked him. I have a pretty loose moral code (well not really that loose - more like loose-ish), but dating guys with girlfriends is a huge no-no for me.

His response:

"This is going to be really embarassing."
"Why? I just want to know if you have a girlfriend or not, I don't care about the details really," (I'm so anti-drama, can't you tell?).
"Okay.. I'll tell you anyway. So that girl I met online. We had an online relationship."
"I don't quite understand. You never met once?"
"No. I mean, we were dating, but I guess in order to be dating you actually have to see each other. Now she's my ex."
"That's really, really weird."
"Well, nobody's perfect."

Yup, so true. Nobody is perfect - people are just perfect for each other. After a great date and kiss-me-in-the rain fantasy fulfilled, this one was just another tool. An online relationship? Via Facebook, nonetheless. Sorry, I thought those were reserved only for 65-year-old perverts and 15-year-old Halo geeks. "A/S/L?" "25/male/Bonerville!" Word. Sorry, Red.

I'm kind of glad I hit my head. Now I can pretend like it was all a dream/nightmare.

vitality

There is a vitality, a life force
a quickening that is translated
by you into action,
and there is only one of you
in all time. This expression
is unique, and if you block it, it will never exist
through any other medium; and be lost.
The world will not have it.
It is not your business to
determine how good it is, nor
how it compares with other expression.
It is your business to keep it yours, clearly
and directly, to keep the channel open.
You do not even have to believe in
yourself of your work.
You have to keep open and aware
directly to the urges that motivate you.

Keep the channel open.
No artist is pleased.
There is no satisfaction whatever at any time.
Only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest that keeps us
marching and makes us
more alive than the others.
-Martha Graham

life as unplanned

Well, I think it's time to face the truth and say it out loud (or type it, rather). I am single. I am 23 years old, temporarily living with my parents, and single.

Now to some people, this wouldn't seem to be much of a problem. "Your 20s is the time to party wildly, live freely, enjoy the neon city-life, and soak up everything and everywhere with no inhibition - the only time to be responsible for only yourself!" they'll all say. "Do it now - you're only young once!" That's all well and good but, what happened to my plan? I had a perfectly laid out plan since November of my senior year of college: work at the huge public accounting firm for two to three years, earn my CPA, take the GMATs, get into USC's (SoCal, duh) part-time Masters of Taxation program, transfer within my firm to the LA or Orange County office, meet my dream man in California and proceed to live my connect-the-dot flawless life raising a family, making the big bucks, and soaking up the stellar rays of Southern California.

Anddd shit hit the fan - everything is flying up, up, up as if Isaac Newton never discovered gravity. My job, my living situation, my love life, my financial stability, my friends, my career. But what got in the way? Let's back up the bus for a second here.. beep, beep. I auditioned for Redskins Cheerleading (for the second time no less) and wait, what?.. I made it?! Well, check that off the list for succeeding in a hidden dream. The economy is tanking like Snooki's poof sans hairspray and I was laid off from the fancy public accounting firm - but the recruiters make sure to tell you that you must put it in a more attractive way.. "I was let go," "My position was eliminated," "It's an opportunity to explore other options." No. I was fucking laid off - let's not sugar coat this, fellas. And now, I am falling in love with the city of DC and making it my own. Hot 99.5 (the so addictive yet redundant poppy radio station) calls it the most powerful city in the free world - and you know what? They're kind of right. DC, despite its urban cookie-cutter crime and conflict, is an amazing place full of culture, history, and men that are a little more easygoing/less douchey than NYC but a little more serious/less pretentious than LA (okay, that was stereotypical hyperbole, but you know get what I'm saying). And I'm meeting such a wide array of people, I can't help but smile at the simplicity of it all.

So what happened then. Passion? I am dancing my heart out in DC with Capitol Movement Project and with the Washington Redskins Cheerleaders. Responsibility? I let go of the pride of complete financial stability after the lay-off and have accepted the fact that I must save, save, SAVE. Love? My ex-boyfriend and I were on a one-way track to forever but the railroad tracks slowly transitioned from new, shiny steel to splintery, broken wood. And now it feels like I'm at square one. Or square negative one, perhaps.

Oh, life. My affairs are in the air and I am desperately fighting for any ounce of dignity or professionalism I have left. I can't be completely frumpy - interviews are going well and I think I'm about to receive a great offer (let's not jinx it) next week. I'm saving up to buy a used BMW and for a sweet apartment (not in Bethesda and not a one-bedroom), I'm having fun and drinking for free in DC, dancing to my heart's desire, working out when I please, and you know what? I can honestly say I love my life! Even throughout all the heartbreak, the discontent, the failed plans, and the incessant nagging of my parents, I can honestly say I'm happy. What more do I need?

So screw the naysayers and let's quote Baz Luhrmann,

"Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you wanna do with your life - the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives - some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't."

Amongst all the engagements and weddings, new houses and new jobs, newborn babies and other comforting signs of maturity that are swirling around me in the possession of others, I'll float along here in my happy bubble... As long as I'm dancing and drinking for free. And gentlemen, if the words "plethora" or "witty" aren't in your vocabulary, don't bother. Only if you have a plethora of wit.