Riot and Frolic

a mostly ballroom dance, but also a bunch of other stuff, blog

  • Awhile back, I was using "Viola!" as an exclamation of done-ness.  I felt really dumb when I realized it was "voilà!" and not my great-grandmother's name.  On the plus side, I'm pretty sure most people (minus the nerdy-intelligent-editorial types… you know who you are!… am I out of the club?) knew exactly what I was talking about.  After poking around the interwebs, I've found many people use my great-grandmother as an exclamation, so maybe I could join that club if I get kicked out of the nerd club.  Other common oops?  One probably doesn't mean "ect." (it's short for "etcetera") or  "intensive purposes" (you probably mean "intents and purposes") or "supposebly."  

    Since I picked out some common other people boo-boos, let me point out mine.

    I wrote about my favorite popsicle recipe from my childhood.  I posted it before I actually tested them, because I've eaten them for so long, why would I have to try them?  They're awesome!

    Well, when V and I cracked them out the day of that post, they were a little different.  My mom said "things taste different when you get older," but this was a different-different.  Like very concentrated flavor and a bit Jello-y.  Mystery…

    Us Bratt girls spent the day over at my folks' house yesterday to escape the 110 degree heat index (thanks for all the invites!) and had some of those great popsicles.  They were awesome!  Just like my childhood!

    Me: Ma, tell me the recipe for these.  

    Ma: Small box Jello…

    Me: Uh huh…

    Ma: a package of unsweetened Kool-Aide…

    Me: Uh huh…

    Ma: 2/3 cup sugar…

    Me: Uh huh…

    Ma: 2 cups boiling water.  You mix all of that together, so the Jello dissolves…

    Me: Yep, uh huh [wait for it…]

    Ma: and 2 cups cold water.

    Me: OOOOOOOHHHHHH!  

    Yeah.  I hadn't written that part down.  I have since corrected that recipe on the post, so feel free to make delicious Childhood Popsicles.  4 cups of water, Kate.  4 cups.  

    I also tried a recipe for watermelon popsicles from the full-size Everyday Food.  They turned out pretty well, but a little too sugary for my liking.  I'm not going to post the recipe until I have it fixed up the way I like it.  

    SIP cover best[3]I happened to triple the recipe since I had a ton of watermelon left over from Gordon's birthday bash[es] and thank God for water viscosity. 

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    No, that's not a pink bowl; that's a very full bowl of watermelon puree.  You know what's fun?  Blending fruit and then smushing it through a sieve.  

     

     

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    Pretty good.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    For you nerds out there.

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  • – pizza!  I haven't gotten to make pizza in a long time.  I had been craving some homemade, weird-crust pizza for quite awhile and the weather cooperated early in the week with some temps in the 70s and low humidity.  By the way, does anyone have a good pizza crust recipe?  

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    – the prettiest cake I've ever seen at work for a co-worker's birthday.

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    – trip to the library.  There weren't any Olivia books or movies, but V still left happy.  I, on the other hand, had to run into some very forward people telling me about raising children.  

    – lots o' popsicles.  They come with corny jokes!

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    – a trip to Costco.  Major favorites?  Huge bag of ground coffee, huge bag of salt and pepper pistachios (thanks, Mitten; I'm totally hooked; miss you!), and berries in bulk.

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    – visit to Great Gramma's house in the middle of a downpour where we had cameos from my Great Aunt and Uncle.  Neat!  "She's a nice lady," V says of her Great Gramma.  

    – transplanted basil that hasn't died yet!  (Hey, Martin! maybe it's our turn for herbs!) Carnations!  How did I ever hate carnations?  They are awesome.  Cheap, colorful, long-lasting.  

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    – early morning breakfast with the girls.  Not my choice of hour, but a good time nonetheless.  See, doc?  Sometimes I do take my f-ing vitamins!   (Hahaha, there's an inappropriate story behind that.)

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    – flirty baby.  

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    – Go Bears Chicago.

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  • It's a little humid today and therefore, I …

    A) can't concentrate

    B) can't move.  

    Earlier today, when the dew point was below 75%, my bestie and I went for coffee over the ye olde High Bridge (you know, that bridge that connects the downtown St. Paul area from the bluffs and is quite picturesque from all angles) to the new Amore Coffee.  We chatted and drank coffee and then hit a next-door vintage shop, Simply Vintage.  

    Source: Grand Building Supply LLC

    A) Love the new Amore location.  It has awesome orange pressed-tin ceilings, beautiful natural light streaming in from the many windows, spacious and plentiful seating, delicious drinks and treats, and a nice staff.  

    B) Simply Vintage was a fun little store with some nifty salt-and-pepper shaker sets, pretty tablecloths and napkins, and fun old doodads (what else do you call an 80-year-old Viewmaster with matching slides?).  The people working there gave us chocolate, so, obviously, they were good people.  

    We happened to walk in while this song was playing.  This is funny now for a couple reasons.

    A) We knew this song- which why would any 30-year-old know?- because it's a Quickstep (very nice demo of Quickstep is linked here) and we are ballroom nerds.

    B) I named this post knowing there was some pop culture reference to "lazy, hazy days of summer."  I Googled that phrase and came up with this song.  When I played it, I laughed at the serendipity.  

    Maybe it's the heat, but it seemed like a strange coincidence.


     

    After teaching a couple of my neatest students, I headed to B&N for some air-conditioned magazine browsing.  To my joy and surprise, I found a solitary copy of Mollie Makes, this bomb-diggity, drool-inducing crafty mag that comes to me from the UK.  I hugged it to my chest and speed-walked to the counter to pay for it with the soggy $20 that I had stored in my bra.  

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    Just the covers are enough for me, but they even give you a GIFT!  Attached to the cover is a sweet little envelope with the makings for a pretty felt flower!

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    GAH!  

    I'm also loving this magazine because I …

    A) read the whole thing with a British accent

    B) think they prefer crocheting over knitting.

    So, Auntie Dee, I hope you don't think I'm in the hospital preparing baby #3 since I posted so late.  I'll try to post earlier tomorrow!

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  • Dance pants.  

    Let's say there are two kinds- man pants and lady pants.  As you might expect, they perform two very different functions.  

    I co-taught a seminar a while back on "looking good" on the dance floor and my partner-in-prettiness and I had the hardest time explaining lady dance pants.  Think: bloomers.  Without the ruffles.  Granny panties.  Spandex butt covers.

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    (Thank you, DanceAmerica.  My butt was not up to the modeling task.)

    Generally, a lady only needs to buy these extremely-modest polyester-wonders if she's wearing an off-the-rack dress for dancing; otherwise, most ballroom dresses come with a bodysuit attached to the dress.  Note: "a lady… needs to buy these…"  I have too often seen women dancing in their skivvies alone.  I don't want to:

    • see your entire butt cheek when you spin (a thong? really?)
    • lacy pseudo-dance pants (strangely inapproprate)
    • nude material (do you even want people to think about that?)

    Ladies, I want them opaque, huge, and matching your dress.

    Men.  Oh, men.  Your dance pants are actually pants.  They start somewhere around your waist and end somewhere above the floor and have material all over in between.  

    To tackle your amazing fashion below the waist, I invited the ultra-talented Marsha Wiest-Hines from Made for Movement.  She has made several of my swanky ballroom dresses and, more importantly, made the G look fantastic on the floor.  

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    (Thanks, Ms. Radio for the lovely photo!)

    Marsha, take it away!

    "I think menswear, pants especially, requires a customized fit more critically than all the stretchy and somewhat adaptable gowns. Since menswear is mostly black, it's fabric choice, cut and fit, and details, that make everything work. I just did some work for "Roy" [names and faces have been edited to protect the innocent] who has a GREAT body, but unique. We had to re-fit his trousers, both for ballroom and Latin, to get them right. But the difference between right and wrong is substantial. And when guys gain or lose wieght, that can really mess with how they look on the floor, if they don't have their things re-fit." [Guys, please get them re-fit.  Let's be generous and say that you put on muscle!]

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    "I personally think there should be a big difference between the fit of Latin pants and ballroom trousers, and purposefully make two completely different products for those purposes. In the Latin, I like a close fit, with a defined backside to feature the Cuban motion. I like them to be snug at the hip, but not scary tight, and with a loose, gently belled bottom. similar to the fit of boot cut jeans. But of course the fabric should be softer and more supple and pliable than denim. I like a fabric with stretch in the crossgrain, but not the length, and always look for a great drape."

    "I like seat details, interesting closures, belts, and satin waistbands, but these things are not for everyone, and it's critial that details not only emphasize and flatter the body they are adorning, but that the guy is comfortable with the extra attention. Nothing looks worse on the floor than confidence not equal to the costume, IMHO."  [Amen, sister!]

     

    100_5916"Now, ballroom trousers, on the other hand, for me are a different creature. They are high waisted to be SURE there is no gap between vest and trouser top, and to allow for the look of a very long leg. And I like to elastically link coats and vests to the tops of the trousers to confirm that the tops stay down and the bottoms up. Sometimes, suspenders are necessary as well. I can often guess whether a new guy is better at ballroom or Latin by looking at his proportions. Guys with longer bodies tend to be much more rhythmical because the extra room there allows better separation between rib cage and pelvis and the lower center of balance makes them more grounded. The ballroom guys either have shorter bodies and longer legs, or really need costume assistance to create that impression! Longer legs and longer stride are such an advantage for the ballroom dances. And speaking of length, pants too short or too long in either style is a huge distraction for both dancer and judge. I look at hemmed trousers on racks, and wonder how often that predetermined length is tragically wrong."

    "I also don't like to see hips and thighs as much in the ballroom, so we cut a roomier seat and upper leg. I just had a guy ask me to make him a Bolero jacket for smooth, and I can do that. But his dance posture better be perfect, with his seat neatly tucked beneath him at all times, or that jacket will be a huge disaster. Always tricky to find the diplmatic way to say what needs to be said." [I like the blunt version, generally!]

    "And then, there's 'To stirrup, or not to stirrup.' Stirrups are elastics, worn beneath the shoe, connected to the trouser inseams and outseams to keep the pants from flapping about excessively. I am not a fan, because for me, the movement is just a little strange, but many make this choice, and for some, it works."

    "Some of my clients like their Latin trousers SOOOOOO much they have an extra pair made for teaching and social dancing. Or some just wear their competition pair. I think this interesting. Since dance pants have NO pockets of any sort to mess with the nice lines, they must be 'murse' users." [I wish.  G does use his fancy pants for teaching, but just throws all his stuff in my bag.]

    "If a guy can afford only ONE pair of pants, we fit Latin looser than we usualy might and cut a vest much longer… it can work, but it's not an optimum solution. OK, Marsha, step away form the keyboard!"

    [Cue thunderous applause]

    Isn't she great?  I recommend all my man students get suited up by her.  And guys?  Remember to wear black socks.  And black underwear.  Just in case.

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  • PinProjectBanner
    I love Pinterest.  You have probably gathered that by now.  It is a lovely timesuck and source of inspiration.  There's lot many things you can say that about.  As I was "pinning" the other day, I realized how my "boards" were fast becoming the junk drawer of my computer.  I mean, sure, all this stuff (the pictures and links to various sites) is neat, but it is just stuff.  Did I really just want to look at a pretty picture over and over, or did I want to do something?

    Oh, I'm doing stuff.  Each Thursday (you see? a schedule!), I will thrill you with my exploits of making something that I have pinned off Pinterest.  You are on the edge of your seats, I know. Here's my starter collection of projects:

    http://www.keikolynn.com/2011/07/head-scarf-tutorial.html

    Well.  I want to learn how to tie a head scarf.  My ears stick out a bit; I like vintage accessories; I don't shower often.  It seems like a good idea.

    (Source: Keiko Lynn)

     

    http://www.savvyhousekeeping.com/how-to-turn-a-bar-of-soap-into-liquid-hand-soap/

    I have a bunch of fancy soap that I got as gifts last year (hinting, people?), but we don't really use bar soap.  I want to use the fancy soap, duh, but can I make it into shower gel somehow?  Why yes!

    (Source: Savvy Housekeeping)

     

    http://downlo.tumblr.com/post/5773164930/sprinklesandsequins-d-i-y-homemade-glitter

    You can make glitter in your oven by baking salt?  Shut the front door.  I'm so skeptical about this, I must try it.  Warning: if it works and you ever get a thank-you note from me, it will be covered in glitter.  Cheap, homemade glitter.  (Source: Tumblr)

     

    http://jo2308.typepad.com/blissedoutknitting/2008/07/hand-made-flowe.html I have been dying to make these scorched flowers for months.  (I want to write "singed" as in "to singe," but I can't stop reading it "sing-ed," like a bad version of "sung.")  I'm just waiting for some silky, man-made fabric to magically appear to my doorstep. (Source: Blissed Out Knitting)

     

     

    http://makeupalley.com/m_125648455 Mama really wants a mani/pedi before #3 arrives.  And this?  Is about the coolest thing ever.  Maybe you've seen my penchant for Essie nail polish and this color of pink (via Facebook), so this will fit right into your picture of me. BTW, I get a mani/pedi, like, every… never.  Oh.  Wait.  For my wedding.  Four years ago. That one time.

    (Source: Makeup Alley)

     

     

    http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2010/09/frosting-that-will-get-you-hugs-and.htmlI made that one cake.  I wanted to frost it, but ate it instead.  I've been looking for a frosting recipe.  This one says it will "get you hugs and kisses."  I'm in.

     

    (Source: The Girl Who Ate Everything)

     

    http://thebeautydepartment.com/2011/04/a-do-for-you/I have long hair now.  I think it's official.  I really have no idea what to do with it.  Last time it was this long, I was a senior in high school and would put it in a ponytail every morning after my shower.  I don't know if my hair was ever completely dry that year. The time before that, I was in kindergarten and my mom put my hair in pigtails.  

    http://www.laurenconrad.com/post/hair-how-to-twisted-updo

     


    Now that I'm a grown-up (I swear I am; I have kids!), I feel like my hairstyling abilities should stretch beyond a comb (on a good day) and a rubber band.  But I'm also lazy, so I like that these pretty 'dos have eight seemingly manageable steps in them.

     

    (Source: The Beauty Department)

     

    (Source: Lauren Conrad)

     

    http://www.hungry-girl.com/chew/show/2009  I love frozen things.  And Orange Juliuseseses.  And dreamsicles.  And not being fat.

     

     

    (Source: Hungry Girl)

     

    http://www.etsy.com/listing/74031789/good-morning-wreath-oak  How adorable is this?  Minus the accessories, this seems fairly simple to make.  Gifties!

     

    (Source: Come and Knock at Etsy)

    Ta-da!  

    I will be taking requests.  If you see something fun on the web that you want me to try  (or you want to try it, but are too lazy), copy me the link in a comment and I'll see what I can do.  Ooo, interactivity!

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  • I don't look like a criminal, do I?

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    But here's the hole I said I wouldn't dig and the tomato plant I said I wouldn't plant.  I ate a popsicle before and after, so that makes up for the fib, right?

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    These are the nail polish I stole.  I kid you not.  I stole them.  Shoplifted.  I want to blame it on my nearly-three-year-old.  You know how that happens- you have the kids with you at the store and all of a sudden, you're at the checkout and the kid is playing with some little dollar section doodad.  I have always caught them before they actually steal.  Maybe I should take my mom shopping with me. 

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    I still feel bad whenever I go to this infiltrated store.  I want to turn myself in or "accidentally" overpay by $14.73.  I don't even like the colors that much.  That just makes it worse.  It really is an isolated incident.  I've never so much as stolen a candy bar or taken an extra penny from the penny dish at SuperAmerica.  Maybe it's like smoking or weed or tanning with baby oil:  things I really want to try even though I hear they're bad for you…  Okay, I've tried smoking.  Cigarettes! Cigarettes.  Don't judge.  

    Unrelated, a friend of mine suggested that I had a schedule in place for my posts.  After she mentioned it, I realized I sort of did, but that maybe I should work one out.  So check it- I'm going to have a real full-fledged schedule starting next week.  Also, I have a fun new idea a-brewin'.  Oh yes. It involves Pinterest and crafts.  It will be neat.  

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    Can't believe I forgot about this on the first try! 

  • Or wait.  I do.

    I feel a little like Sally Field right now.


     

    I really was going to post something with content, but got a little distracted by my blog stats. They're pretty good.  Thanks, everybody!

    As my awesome student jokingly said last night, "I love talking about myself!" So I'm going to join her in that love and have a little pregnancy-related confession time.  Feel free not to indulge me and stop reading.

    I'm very pregnant.  The phrase "nine months" doesn't really apply.  Nine months=36 weeks in my book.  At nine months, you've still got a month to go.  Right?  So I'm ten months pregnant.  I have 12 more days until my due date and most likely, baby #3 will not come early.  (My two other ladies were very timely.)  

    My "maternity" shirts no longer quite cover all that they should. (To be fair, I did not buy any mama-to-be clothes this time around because I think there's a conspiracy to have cute maternity clothes only when I'm NOT pregnant [a very small window] and because I'm cheap. I have two real mommy shirts.)  

    On Sunday, I told G that I was giving up trying to be Super Preggo Lady and was just going to be pregnant.  That tomato plant I wanted to plant outside?  Unless someone else digs me a hole, it's staying in its pot.  That bucket full of dirty diapers?  Yeah, that's aaaaaall G bringing it to the basement laundry room.  Biking to work?  Well, a few choice words have gone through my head, and thankfully, not through my fingers.  I'm going to sit with my feet up and eat popsicles and have people do crap for me.  These are things I do not do on a regular basis.  

    I'm going to give some advice now: (unsolicited! more fun!)

    -If you're talking to a first-time mom, don't tell her any horror stories about pregnancy, labor, or breast-feeding.  I stopped reading those mommy-to-be magazines for the same reason because they just set a girl's mind running about all the bad things that can happen. Ignorance is bliss!  Share the crazy stories afterwards, like when you're bringing that new mom a meal and an hour of free babysitting.  

    -Don't ask any woman when they are due or insinuate in any way that a lady might be pregnant unless you know FOR SURE that she is.  This just saves everyone a whole lot of embarrassment. Also, never rub an already-affirmed-pregnant lady's belly unless you've A) asked or B) she is your wife and you have already A)'ed.  It's beyond weird.

    -There's a lot of things that ladies "shouldn't" do when they're pregnant.  A lot of these are old-wives' tales or just a bit out of date.  The general population of pregnant ladies probably shouldn't ballroom dance or run or lift heavy boxes (AKA children), but if you've been doing it all along, then why would you stop?  Like the joke goes- if it hurts, don't do it.  And until it does, I think I'm okay.  

    -Saying things like "Oh wow, I'm glad I'm not you right now" or "Gee, you sure have your hands full" aren't helpful, nice, or funny.  I can only imagine you thought they were.  Be safe and say nothing.  It will make you sound smarter.  

    -I'm okay.  Really.  I'm just pregnant. Ladies have been doing it for years. You don't need to ask if I'm all right every time you see me.  You don't need to force me into a chair if I'm standing for more than 30 seconds.  I won't drop this kid without warning.  There are systems in place to give me some notice of oncoming baby.  If I can forget I'm pregnant sometimes (I remember quickly when I see my reflection), then you can, too!  

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  • – a overly-helpful, hilarious V

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    (carrying a suitcase that was twice her size.)

    – many caffeinated beverages.

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    (I don't usually do b&w photos, but how awesome is this?)

    so many hours of work.  

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    (This looks like work, right?)

    – I said "caffeinated beverages," right?

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    (I like that me and G's combined names make up "KGB."  That's our shoe brush in the foreground.  This is also clearly the first day of the illustrious Twin Cities Open ballroom dance competition as there are still Hershey Kisses in the bowl because dancers are also scavengers.)

    – some well-deserved feet-up time

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    – one pretty neat ballroom hair and one pretty decent one (considering I had 5 minutes to do it).

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    (This is the pretty neat one.)

    – tons of stellar dancing.

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    (SHOUT OUTS: America, rocking the International divisions after three weeks of training. Swannie taking names for her knock-off list in American style.  The Hab showing off her new awesomeness.  Smee and his wifey returning to the dance floor after sabbatical.  Frissy being super-great in general.   Patty being recognized for being everyone's inspiration.  Dessert is delicious and a great dancer.  The Goodness makin' the ladies nervous.  Carolita really is unforgettable.)

    – absolutely no cleaning around the house.

    – saw most of Ocean's Eleven for the first time in a long time.

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  • IMG_7098I work a lot on Tuesdays, hence the lack o' post.  Yesterday was more than the usual marathon since we have the local ballroom dance competition starting tomorrow.

    You haven't been to a ballroom dance competition?  You've probably seen Dancing With the Stars.  It's nothing like that.  Let me paint you a picture…

    Starting around dawn, ladies of all ages will be putting their hair into elaborate hair styles and then cementing it to their heads. Ballroom hair does not move and sounds like a helmet.

    These lovely ladies also apply so much makeup, it's not advised to stand on a street corner afterwards.  

    The point?  Your hair should not be a distraction to you (ah! it's in my eye/mouth/nose) and has to look the same at 7am as it does when you're done dancing 12 hours later.  The makeup seems soooo excessive, but most ladies want to look like they have a face under the hot stage lights that surround a dance floor.  Therefore, the fake eyelashes, bountiful eye makeup, bright lipstick, and fake tan are all necessary evils.  

    Round about the time the ballroom ladies are putting on their rhinestoned dresses, the men have woken, watched some sports, and had some coffee.  It's their small window of mirror time before their lady steals it back for last-minute anxiety-releasing touch-ups. Shave? Check. Gel and hairspray? Check. Fake tan?  Check.   Done!  Ballroom men have it so easy.

    Tip:  you need to look good from 10 feet away.  In other words, a little eyeshadow smudge might bother you, but no one is going to see you that closely to notice.  My co-worker has the most awesome looking nails…  That happen to be $10 press-on nails from the drugstore.  But from 10 feet away, I think she's forked out some serious cash for a fancy mani.  And they're rhinestones on our dresses, not diamonds.  

    Finally, hours after waking, the couples head down to the hotel ballroom (it's always in a hotel).  It always feel a bit too fancy for 8am, what with the blindingly-bright dresses, formal hair and makeup, tuxedoes, and crowds.  But it's what we do!

    Mostly, these competitions are students dancing with their professional partner and teacher. It's called pro-am and it's great.  As a student, you're dancing with someone who's more experienced than you are, therefore someone who can: not freak out even if you are; give you good advice before, after, and sometimes during your dances; keep focus during high-pressure or crowded heats; help you steer, literally, through those same heats; and tell you what the heck is going on.  

    IMG_7204Ballroom competitions are fast-paced. During the day, there are events called "freestyles" where each couple is judged for how they dance one single dance.  This dance (waltz, tango, foxtrot, Viennese Waltz, chacha, rumba, swing, bolero, mambo, quickstep, paso doble, jive, samba, salsa, peabody) has randomly picked music that all the couples on the floor dance to for about 1:10.  That's a minute and ten seconds.  Yep, better have practiced, right?  

    It doesn't seems like much time, but often dancers will repeat their routines or set of favorite patterns two or three times.  Most people agree that it's not how many fancy steps you know, but how well you do them. Four or five moves is enough!

    During these freestyles, there's as many people on the floor as possible.  It's plausible that there would be an eight-year-old dancing with her teacher at the same time that awesome 90-year-old is rockin' her chacha (both of these ladies will make you feel bad- the little one because you wish you had started so young and the older one because she's awesome and she's 90 years old).  Also, you often see beginner dancers (called Newcomers) on the floor at the same time as more seasoned amateurs (Bronze, Silver, Gold, Open is the sequence of levels).  There is a handy program book at all competitions that tells you who is on the floor for each freestyle (or "heat").  This program usually needs some decoding the first time you read it, but once you got it down, you can start yelling out names and numbers of your favorite couples.

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    Yelling?  Oh, yes.  There is yelling.  One would think that ballroom dancing breeds refined and respectable people of all ages.  In a way, yes.  In another way, no.  We are a community of yellers, noise-makers, and obnoxious people.  We like our favorite couples to know we love them and will chant, cheer, clap, honk, ring, and shake anything that'll let them hear our approval.  This, in itself, often turns into a competition.  Studio against studio, table against table- people turn up the volume to be the greatest spectators.  If you are coming to watch, please expect this and do not chastise people who are participating in this form of encouragement- the dancers love it!

    Story time!  A few years ago at Twin Cities Open (this upcoming event), there were about five couples from the Twin Cities competing professionally on Saturday night to a sold-out crowd. Representing three or four studios, these couples (including the G and I) were spurred to greatness and maniacal grins by the sheer energy (pantyhose?) of the audience.  It was the one of the loudest and most electrifying moments I've had on the floor.  Did I say "loud"?  It was sometimes so loud, I could barely hear the music. Amazing.

    There's more ballroom business tomorrow as I explain the "multi-dance events" and hopefully have some live pictures from the competition. 

    If you're competing, good luck!  You'll hear me before you see me!  

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  • – four shirts and four pants pressed.  

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    – a special wedding yo-yo.  Man, I hope that quilt makes it to Ojai.

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    – after a long period of silence, the discovery of a new use for the kiddie pool.  Why, a reading nook, of course!

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    – baby lemons!  They are all over Lola, the lemon tree-bush.  She flowered beautifully and fragrantly upon arrival at my house, and is now busy with about 20 buns in the oven.  I hear lemons take two years to mature, but she is already making new flowers, so once that first harvest happens, it's going to be Lemon City from there on out!

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    – seeds that actually sprouted.  Woop woop!  I have basil and chives coming up that will need to be transplanted soon.  I also nabbed an heirloom tomato plant at the hardware store for 50% off, so I'll have some funky purple-red tomatoes in a couple months.  

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    – "finished" my latest spray paint project.  I got these nifty high-top chairs from a co-worker and had this sweet vintage upholstery fabric sitting around that my ma gave me.  The chairs wanted to be spiffed up, so I got some spray paint and found the upholstery tacks I had hidden in my attic and attacked.  More on this when I redo the brown one to match the pretty blue one. 

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    – a half-hearted manicure more ruined by spray paint.

    – a birthday tradition of the drive-in?  Question mark, because we have happened to do it two years in a row and it was perty successful.  This year, we BBQ'ed and hung out and people left as they desired and the Bratts were the last car standing.  Coming home as the sun is coming up?  Neat.  Except when the ladies woke up at 9am anyways.  

        Mae Cake stood like that, surveying her territory and drinking her juice for about a half an     hour.

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     - strange restaurant service for the Birthday Dinner.  Also, might be tradition.  But, dessert at the fantastic Salut Bar Americain.  Creme brulee and drinks- yum.

    – one married sibling.  Can't wait to hear all about it.

    – thanks to Ben Doran, Joseph Hannasch, Ellis VanAlstine, Joe Mollner, and all of the military personnel and families for protecting our country!

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