Daily Prompt – Another Trio

Write about any topic you wish, but make sure your post features a bookcase, something cracked, and a song you love.

Casey put down the box in the hallway, straddling the top of it to push the two flaps on top together, and then using the heavy-duty packing tape, taped the top of the box shut. She carefully sat there on top of the box, let out a giant sigh as she looked around her, observing all the other piles of belongings that still needed to be packed.

Daily Prompt: Mr. Sandman

What kind of sleeper are you? Do you drop off like a stone and awaken refreshed, or do you need pitch black and silence to drift off to dream?

I could quite easily sleep for ten hours, wake up, get dressed, have some breakfast, and then go back to sleep for at least another three or four hours. When I’m particularly stressed, or suffering from considerably anxiety, all I want to do is shut myself away in bed for a few days and just sleep. When I’m on holidays, all I want to do is sleep.

I’m very much a deep sleeper. Sometimes it’s great, but sometimes it’s a bit scary.

Before I met Hulk, it never concerned me. I’ve always been somebody who loves to sleep – probably because I just can’t get enough of it.

Having a partner who is a diabetic is something that truly scares me. There’s been nights where he’s been in bed next to me having a hypo (where his blood sugar is dangerously low), and I’ve been completely oblivious to it. Generally speaking, a severe hypo means that he will sweat profusely, and lose the ability to move. His body begins to seize up, and sometimes he can start to shake / convulse slightly. He loses the ability to talk. The reality is, he can go into a coma in his sleep, or worse, die.

So for me, it’s truly terrifying to know that I’m such a deep sleeper. There have been several moments where I’ve been completely out of it and off in dreamland, and he’s been right next to me, having a severe hypo. Because he can’t move or really say anything louder than a whisper or a gasp, I’m completely oblivious to what is happening right next to me.

I’ve had a number of nights where this has happened, and I’ve woken up to find him like this, purely by chance. I don’t know how long he’s been in that state, but as soon as I realise what’s going on, it’s like an instant shot of adrenaline, and my brain goes into overdrive, and before I know it, I’m rummaging around in the kitchen looking for something sugary to give him in order to bring his blood-sugar levels back up.

The one thing that completely terrifies me is the thought that he could die in his sleep. He could die in his sleep, and I wouldn’t know, simply because I’m such a deep sleeper. Just the thought of it, sends shivers down my spine. God forbid that ever happened… I’d never be able to live with myself. The guilt would just be too much. I’m supposed to be looking after him and taking care of him!!

I’ve noticed that with Hulk, he’s quite tired lately. We both are. Taking on too much, pushing our bodies with our gym commitments, long hours in the office, late nights – it all takes it’s toll on the body. By the time the weekend comes around, we’ve usually got a lot of stuff to do, but really, all we want to do is just sleep. I’d love to be able to go to the gym Saturday morning, then come home, have some breakfast and then have a nap for a couple of hours. Get up, do some housework, go grocery shopping, and then come home for another nap.

The reality of being able to do that however… not an option.

Even when it comes to having a nap – I’m not one of these people that can have a 30min power nap and wake up feeling all brand new. If I have a nap, I need like 2 – 3 hours at least, otherwise I actually wake up feeling considerably worse than I was before I had my nap.

I know that there have been sleep studies done to show the optimal time for a nap, in order for it do be restful and restorative for the body, but for me, the rules don’t apply. I’ll close my eyes when I need to, and then I’ll open them again when my body says I’m ready to. That might be 2 hours, 8 hours, or 15 hours. When I was a teenager, I’d sometimes spend entire days sleeping.

I remember sometimes going to bed and sleeping the whole night, and the entire next day, having over 24hrs sleep – obviously because I needed it. I know that some reports have said that too much sleep is bad for you, but I tend to disagree with that. I don’t think that such a thing exists.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/23/daily-prompt-mr-sandman/

One Of Those Days

Have you ever had one of those days?

Those days where for some unknown reason, everything seems to turn to absolute shit, and by about lunchtime you regret getting out of bed, and wish you had’ve just stayed there.

I’ve only been up for a whole 25mins, but I’m already regretting it.

It started with me throwing my eyelids open as I lay in bed, shouting out a long and panicked FFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCKKKKK!!!! see it was 7:59am, and I should have already been halfway to work. That, and my alarm went off at 6:30am!!

…great. Ugh.

I think I then got ready in the fastest possible time in the history of, well, ever, because I was dressed and out the door within minutes. I double checked my bus options and powered down to my alternate stop and caught the bus.

…which was like stepping into a sauna.

Turns out the heater on the bus is on. Mainly because the driver turned it on, and then accidentally broke the switch, so he can’t turn it off. So now we’re all sweating like pigs. Oh did I mention there are no opening windows on this bus??

…awesome.

Oh, and to add to this glorious start to the day, the bus is full of teenagers.

*cue loud groans of frustration and over the top eye rolling*

At this precise moment I contemplated getting off at the very next stop, but then that would require waiting another 18mins for the next bus, and at this rate, I’d be lucky to make it to work by 9am.

I don’t think you can possibly imagine how much I cannot stand teenagers in general. They’re just so… Feral. Blocking the aisles, being loud and abusive, climbing over seats, hitting and punching each other…. And that’s just the girls. It’s like these kids have just been collected from some kind of uncivilised remote island and they’re being let loose in society for the very first time.

They remind me of that scene from Planet of the Apes where the apes break free and go wild and terrorise the city… That’s what they’re like.

And I’m pretty sure they’d love to fling handfuls of their own shit at each other.

All I wanted was for the bus to crash and explode and end my misery. Not literally of course… But fuck, just get me off this bus ride from hell!!

Bus arrives at the train station, and then all of a sudden the fresh air hits me like a slap in the face! Ahhhhh what a relief!! I make my way through the station to my platform and when the train turns up, I choose the carriage, walk through the doors and instantly regret it, and weigh up whether I have time to jump off and race to the next carriage before the doors close.

Why?

BECAUSE SOME DIRTY FUCKER CANT CONTROL THEIR BOWELS AND FARTED ON THE TRAIN JUST BEFORE THEY GOT OFF!!

You bastard!!

10minutes later, the stench is still there, lingering just long enough to piss everybody else. One woman pulls out her ‘perfume’ and begins to spray it around her… Then like a series of dominoes, a few other ladies do the same.

It’s like walking into the perfume section of 😜Myer (big Aussie department store).

…sometimes I think I prefer the stench of an anonymous fart – only because now the train smells like candy-scented hooker which, let’s face it, is just as bad.

I get off the train, walk through the station and head down to the tram stop. Normally I’ll walk from the station to the office, but I’m running late today, so I’ll catch a tram. 2 minutes. Great.

So the tram turns up and it’s packed. Like, I’m talking packed. Sometimes I think we could give the Japanese a few tips on how to squash people onto public transport. I’m not sure what it’s like in other cities, but here in Melbourne, when it comes to people catching transport, particularly trams, they just seem to lose all sense of logic and rationale and become so completely fucking stupid. As a relatively normal person, if I see a packed tram coming towards me, then I know that I simply can’t get on it and just have to wait for the next one. Others, however, either completely ignore that fact, or treat it like a challenge. I think there’s enough room in the corner for one shoe, so that must mean I can get my entire 100kg+ body in there as well! because that’s clearly how it fucking works. Dude, just wait for the next one. These retards make my head hurt.

Needless to say, I didn’t get on the tram and had to wait for the next one.

Now I’m ten minutes late, I’m sweating in all the worst places and don’t have a change of clothes and I smell like a hooker… And I haven’t even gotten to the office yet… It’s not too late to turn around and just go home, right??

Daily Prompt: Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This)

What is the best dream you’ve ever had? Recount it for us in all its ethereal glory. If no dream stands out in your memory, recount your worst nightmare. Leave no frightening detail out.

I often have quite bizarre dreams that I can never quite make sense of. I know that dreams are meant to a visual representation of our sub-consciousness, but my dreams simply make nonsense whatsoever, and they’re quite jumpy and disconnected. Most of the time in those immediate moments after waking up from one of these dreams, I lay in bed thinking to myself ‘what the fuck was that?! and then I scramble for my iPad to try and not down as much as I can in point-form so then I can go back later and expand on those points for a more detailed recollection.

I can’t say that I’ve got a particular dream that would consider the best I’ve ever had, but there is one dream in particular that I did used to have quite often. Unfortunately, this dream was actually a frequent nightmare. And this was a nightmare that I had quite regularly as a child, and even experienced it a number of times during my teens, and even through my adult life. I’m not entirely sure what it is about this dream that has stuck around in my sub-conscious for so many years, but it’s clearly got to be quite significant.

But the strange thing is, that none of it actually makes sense. And yet it manages to completely terrify me.

It starts off with the image of an old lady sitting on a park bench. In front of her is a footpath, and then a road which never seems to have any traffic. Behind her is a big hill, with incredibly luscious green grass. The rolling green hills behind her meet the clear blue sky and the sun is shining. As the dream progresses, the image starts to pan around from one side of the old lady, past the front of her, and to the other side, and then back. Each transition is quite slow, and it gradually begins to zoom in on her. Eventually a couple of birds begin to enter the scene and start hopping around on the footpath.

Meanwhile, in the background, there is a feint sound. It’s hard to hear, but it’s enough to completely break the silence of the old lady on the bench. It’s quite a mechanical sound… like it’s a series of factory machines or something – clanging and banging, hissing and popping. Then, as the sound begins to become more prominent, there’s a momentary FLASH on the screen of something made of metal. There’s a lot of heat, which I can feel, but the sound just begins to get louder.

I can’t make out what the machine is, but I know that it’s not good.

The vision then goes back to the lady on the bench. She hasn’t moved at all, but there’s now a few birds jumping around at her feet.

FLASH!

It’s the monster. This time, the image stays for a fraction longer, and starts to get louder. The image is all different shades of black, grey and red. There’s a distinct heat, and something quite unsettling about this machine.

Back to the old lady on the bench. She’s now noticed the birds, and has tilted her head, and smiled. She doesn’t actually seem to be moving very much. She’s remained quite static, almost as though she were a mannequin.

FLASH!

It’s the monster. This time the image has started to zoom out slightly, I can see something that resembles a jaw, and what looks to be teeth. It’s definitely not friendly, and the mechanical noise that it’s making is getting louder and louder.

Meanwhile, the old lady on the bench still hasn’t seemed to notice the increasing sound of this monster. I wonder if she can even hear it, or is she completely oblivious?

FLASH!

The image of the monster has zoomed out some more. I can now see a distinct head. It’s almost dinosaur-like, but fully mechanical. Sort of like some kind of Transformer dinosaur robot… who plans on nothing but destruction.

Meanwhile, the old lady on the bench has now started to pull some bread out of her purse and is throwing tiny pieces at the birds.

How is she not hearing this noise?

FLASH!

The Monster appears to be getting bigger and bigger. The heat is increasing more and more with every appearance. I can feel myself sweating, and as the image goes back to the old lady, I can see her sweating as well, so clearly the temperature is rising everywhere.

FLASH!

The Monster begins to stand, and lets out a roar and a giant ball of fire. I feel as though it’s hot enough to burn my skin.

Back at the Old Lady, she’s oblivious to anything else. She obviously can’t hear the noise of the monster.

Something in the pit of my stomach tells me that the monster is planning on eating the old lady… but she can’t see me, so I can’t warn her. I don’t exist to her.

FLASH!

The monster has started to look around and has spotted me. Suddenly the camera zooms right out, and I realise that this Monster is at least the size of a 40-storey building. The noise that it creates is unbearable. It lets out another blood-curdling scream, and a couple of balls of fire, and then it focuses it’s gaze on me. I see it’s eyes narrow, and there’s a rumble that is so loud it completely vibrates the ground like a major earthquake. I lose my footing and fall over as I’m backing away and hit my head on the ground. Hard. Although I am aware that I’m dreaming, and I am aware that none of this is real, I am also aware that I can now feel an excruciating pain in the back of my head, but I know that I’m asleep and I can’t do anything about it.

Just as I begin to scramble backwards on my hands, the image flips back to the old lady. She’s still feeding the birds, and is quite content. She has a smile on her face, as though she’s the happiest lady in the world.

FLASH!

The monster begins to take it’s first giant steps. It unleashes itself from where it has been anchored into the ground as part of the factory, and starts making some very slow and precise giant steps towards me.

By this stage, all I can see around me is intense shades of red, grey and black and I can feel that my clothes are either going to combust or melt from the heat, so I need to remove them. I need water, but there’s nothing around. Even the ground is getting hotter and hotter. I can see my sweat pouring off my forehead and arms, and evaporating instantly as it hits the ground. My skin is burning upon contact and the pain is constantly growing and becoming more and more unbearable.

Back to the Old Lady, who still can’t hear anything. I can see her still sitting there as the ground violently shakes. I can see her sweating through all her clothes. Trees and poles are falling down around her, but she remains with a smile on her face as though nothing is happening.

FLASH!

The fear of imminent death is all I can think of. I can’t die. If you die in your dream, you die in real life, right? The Monster appears to be getting slightly faster, I feel as though I’m running as fast as I possibly can, but I don’t really seem to be getting anywhere. I almost feel as though I’m barely moving, despite moving my legs so fast. I can see it getting closer. I can feel the intensity of the heat all around me.

Back to the Old Lady. The green hills are beginning to change colour. The grass is beginning to die from the heat and starting to turn a light dusty yellow colour. The sky is no longer blue. It’s begun to change from shades of blue to shades of dark orange. The air has become hot and thick.

FLASH!

The Monster is moving faster than I could have anticipated. I can feel it getting closer and closer. I’m not going to escape. This is it. This is how it ends for me… The air around me is so thick and so hot, just something as simple as breathing is becoming too painful for me. The hot air is so thick and so hot, it just burns all the way down my esophagus and into my lungs. I think I’ve only got a few slow deep breaths left before I cant bear it any longer.

The Old Lady has finished her bread and the birds have flown away, except for one, who has died from the heat. The Old Lady has started to turn very pale and is dripping with sweat. The grass has completely died and the sky that was one a cool, refreshing blue, is now a hot and dirty red colour. The ground is shaking violently, and the Old Lady still doesn’t seem to be noticing.

FLASH!

I run and I run and I run. I know that I’m on some cliff-side track that is purely rocks, which keeps shaking from the footsteps of The Monster. Suddenly, in the distance, I see something that looks slightly different. I can see the previously-spotted hill, and realise that that will be my salvation. The Monster only exists in a nasty alternate universe. It won’t be able to cross over, will it?

I see myself run over the hill and start to shake the Old Lady to try and get some reaction out of her motionless body. Nothing. The ground is still shaking, and the air is excruciating. I can’t handle this any longer.

Following behind closely, The Monster begins to make its way over the top of the hill. It gets to the top and looks around. There’s a sudden silence before it lets out this blood-curdling ear-piercing scream. It’s definitely angry about something.

I’m still trying to get the Old Lady off the bench and to safety, but it’s not working very well. The Monster begins it’s descent down the hill; charging directly towards me. As it gets closer, I feel my skin getting quite hot, and slowly beginning to melt. All I can feel is excruciating pain, and all I want is to be safe, but I can’t see that happening.

As I’m (attempting) to drag this old lady out of harms way, I drop her arms as her skin begins to melt in my hands. It’s too late. I need to just accept my fate.

The Monster gets so close, and lets out another roar and a couple of fireballs. One of them hits the old lady in the legs, setting her on fire, and melting directly through the muscle and the bone. She doesn’t even flinch. I think that she’s dead.

The Monster bows its head down and grabs the Old Lady by her melting, fiery legs and gobbles her up like it’s nothing. He stops, roars and bends down to eat me…

…and at that point I wake up.

Granted, sometimes I wake up completely drenched in sweat, or I wake screaming in sheer terror.

It’s one of those dreams that is a bit ridiculous, and I don’t understand, but still terrifies me whenever I have it.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/daily-prompt-sweet-dreams/

Daily Prompt: Walking on the Moon

What giant step did you take where you hoped your leg wouldn’t break? Was it worth it, were you successful in walking on the moon, or did your leg break?

Please allow me to preface this by pointing out that I spent almost an hour writing this post yesterday, only for my auto-save to not work, resulting in me losing my entire post. Such a pain in the bum, so I’ll try and recreate it from memory again… Fingers crossed

I initially struggled when I thought about this, and spent a lot of time trying to come up with a scenario, but I thought that I would write about one of the dance auditions I went to when I was younger.

It was during my year of full-time dance, and I had never been to an audition for an overseas gig before. I’d only ever auditioned for dance schools and that was stressful enough. I didn’t really have much interest in the actual gig (which was for an overseas theme park), but I wanted to do it for the experience, and so I could determine what areas I needed to improve on for any future auditions that I might have.

So I turned up to this audition, not really knowing what it was going to be like and I walked up a few flights of stairs which opened up to this giant space – full of guys. Now for anybody in the commercial world of dance, you’ll know that all the guys are usually tall and good looking and quite well built.

…and I was pretty much the opposite. Well, except for the height.

When I walked in, it was, quite literally, one of those moments where everybody in the room completely stops, the music stops, and everybody stares at you. Although it was only a brief moment, it felt as though time had completely frozen. I walked around all the people sprawled out across the ground and found a small space in the corner, and started to stretch.

Everybody else was already sitting around in their little cliques, and most of them seemed to already know everybody else. Nobody paid me any attention – even when I tried to say hi to a couple of people, if they didn’t completely ignore me, they either brushed me off with a one-worded answer, or just advised me they didn’t want to be disturbed.

One woman came out and called all the girls into one studio for a vocal audition and the rest of us, the majority, were all guys who were ushered into the main studio. From there we were all split into smaller groups to make it easier for the judging panel to watch each of us a lot more closely.

I quickly realised that even when our group wasn’t performing, we were all standing around the studio watching the others, which really threw me. I had anticipated that everybody else would leave the studio , and we’d be called in group by group, but clearly, I was wrong.

First up was out jazz audition. We learnt a small routine which was actually quite fun, and when danced as a group, it looked incredible. I quickly realised that I wasn’t actually as bad as what I had initially thought. Watching some of the other guys trying to learn the chorey, quickly gave me an idea as to who was a threat, and who wasn’t.

When we started to perform in our groups, we also got to watch the others closely, and I was amazed that there was such a considerable number of these so-called dancers who couldn’t actually dance. I mean it was Jazz. Everybody needs to be able to cut it when it comes to jazz – or maybe I just have high expectations?!

So our group was somewhere in the middle, and everybody was watching everybody else like hawks. These bitches were hungry and we’re scoping out the competition, just like I was. I got up to dance and purposely stood in the back row so as not to come across as being an ‘attention seeker’. The music played and two of the guys in the front row made a massive fuck up, so they stopped us and made us start again.

Groan.

The music started again and it was go-time. Just as quickly as we started, it was over. Almost got through it without making any mistakes, but I made one or two small mistakes, but nothing compared to some of the other guys. Compared to some of them, I was actually doing pretty well. At one point as I was dancing, I caught myself in the mirror as I nailed some complex move, and as I finished it, in my peripheral vision, I caught the eyes of one of the judges who, I thought, was watching me. And as I finished this particular move, she got a smile on her face, and then put her head down to write something… like she was secretly rooting for me, perhaps?

Everybody was then ushered out to the waiting room, where some people took the opportunity to have a bite of some food, and down some sports drinks. One of the people from the judging panel said that they were going to begin the callbacks, beginning with Ballet. Then, one by one they started calling out numbers of who they wanted to return.

It was nerve-wracking having to sit there and watch peoples reactions. Some were really humbled when their number was called. Others were more celebratory and flaunting of the fact. The ones who didn’t make it though either got really angry about it and stormed off in a huff, or they just accepted it for what it was. There were quite a few though who got really upset. I think they may have been the ones who were really hoping to get the job. Then whilst I’m sitting there watching everybody else’s reactions, I hear something, but I can’t quite work out what it is. Then I hear it again.

It’s me. My number. I’ve made it through the first round of callbacks!! I couldn’t quite believe it. For somebody who felt so intimidated at the beginning, it would appear as though that was slowly changing. However, I wasn’t necessarily going to get too excited just yet. It was time to get my ballet on.

We went back into the studio to learn a rather basic adage., and then split into new groups. Just like before with the Jazz audition, the ballet audition really gave some of us the perfect opportunity to show the others how it was done. I was really quite shocked that so many of these guys were so terrible at ballet. Here I was thinking that this was the foundation of all dance training – obviously just not theirs. There was only a few guys who really stood out, and even I was surprised at how well I managed with it. But I think I got lucky, because the other guys in my group were pretty bad, so they made me look even better. So I’m not sure if I stood out for actually being talented, or if it was because I was the best of the worst.

After we had finished, we were put back in the holding room, and they made the next round of announcements. Again, my number got called. ‘You have 5 minutes before you come back for your hip-hop audition’.

YES!!

This was right up my alley. Suddenly, the number of guys had dramatically dropped. This was starting to get a bit real, and as much as I didn’t want to pay any attention to it, there was a tiny, tiny part of me thinking that there was a possibility, something might eventuate from all of this.

We went back in for our hip-hop audition, and surprisingly, the routine was short, but quite technical. I found it quite challenging. I went over it and over it and over it, but it just wasn’t sitting well with me. Suddenly the groups had changed order and my group was now second.

FUCK.

I only had a couple of minutes before I had to dance again, and I was really feeling nervous. I felt as though I had somehow managed to prove myself, and I couldnt mess it up now. The music started, and my group started dancing. When the music finished, I let out a giant sigh of relief, but it was quickly interrupted by the judging panel announcing that they wanted us to do again, but they wanted the front and back rows to swap. I was in the back row. I wonder if they want to watch me?? Oh, don’t be so stupid, why would they? SO the music began and I found myself back in the zone. In the corner of my eye I could see the same female judge watching me, then writing down some stuff on paper, and then talking to the judge next to her. And again, when I finished the routine, I caught her smiling. I tried not to think anything of it, but I couldn’t help myself.

As far as I knew, that was the end of the auditions process. I felt relieved, and was looking forward to getting out of this confined space full of stress and tension and hyper-emotional people. Just as I started to re-pack my bag, a lady walks out to us and says that there’s been a change in the audition, they were doing one last round of callbacks. Again, she started to read through the numbers, and only 4 guys got cut, the rest of us were all through again. I actually couldn’t believe that I’d made it this far. It was quite surprising, given that I hadn’t actually worked professionally in this industry, whereas most of the people here had, or still were.

We sat there looking a bit puzzled, as we didn’t really know why they were having a final cut? Maybe they wanted us to sing? Or do a reading? Nobody knew. The lady left briefly, and then returned to say, ‘I’ve just received confirmation that they would like to see you complete a Tap audition. We understand this is last minute, and understand you probably don’t have your tap shoes with you, but if you could, we’d love to see what you’ve got.’

Now, that’s what I call a **PLOT TWIST**

I instantly knew that I was out. I couldn’t tap to save myself. I can do a couple of basic steps, but other than that, I’ve got the skill of a monkey rollerskating on an oil slick. A couple of people cracked the shits, saying that this was ridiculous and unfair, and they stormed off. A couple of others brought their tap shoes with them ‘just in case’. I followed everybody back into the studio, and they made us line up across the studio side-by-side. Everybody was feeling nervous, because we didn’t know what to expect now. I looked at the lady who I’d made eyes with earlier, and she gave me a quick little wink – which, really, could have have meant anything, but she only did it to me, so I felt a tiny bit better.

They explained to us, that they wanted to see roughly 16-counts of some tap skill, to try and judge what level our expertise is. It could be anything we want, as long as it was between 16 and 32 counts.

Shit. Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Knowing that tap was the absolute worst style for me was already bad enough, knowing that I was now going to be last (!!!) made everything even worse. They’re going to go through us one at a time, and all these guys are going to show off their fancy foot skills and then they’re all going to watch me completely ruin everything. Maybe I should just leave? There’s no way I’ll get anywhere now. It’s a guaranteed no. I’ve stil got a chance, perhaps I should just thank them for the opportunity and excuse myself.

I opted not to give in so easily. I’d spent so many hours here already, I may as well see it through until the end, and let’s face it, I had no intentions of actually getting a job out of this, I was only here for the experience, and I should make sure that I get the whole experience, regardless of how uncomfortable or awkward it gets. That’s what it’s like in this industry. It’s cut-throat and you just have to roll with the punches. No time for you to be self conscious and weak. We all watched each other as the tap-a-tap-a-tap-a progressed down the line. The whole time I kept taking bits and pieces from everybody else’s ‘routines’ to create my own little series of steps… and well, in theory it worked in my head.

However, when I had to actually perform it, it was a completely different story. Turns out, I had no fucking idea of what I was doing. I’d even managed to completely forget even the most basic of basic steps. It was just a complete disaster. I was so humiliated, but all I could do was laugh.  There were a few concerned looks my way, but by this stage, I was kinda over it. I’d achieved everything I had come to do, and made it through to the final cut. The lady on the panel looked at me with a small grin and shook her head slightly. The guy in charge of the audition thanked everybody for staying, and for being so gracious and doing the tap audition, and that those who were successful would receive details via email later that evening.

We filed out of the studio into the holding area. People got changed; some called their friends / family; a couple of the guys walked off crying. I went into a toilet to change my clothes, put on some deodorant and wash my face. I let out a big sigh, picked up my bag and headed down the stairs. I got outside and was almost blinded by the blaring sunshine. I had almost forgotten what the weather was like because I’d been in fluoro lighting all day. I stood there on the steps of the building trying to work out what to do with myself for the rest of the afternoon. One thing that couldn’t be denied was that I was STARVING!! But having just stressed out and danced my arse off, I wanted to eat my feelings. The most important choice was whether I wanted to go buy half a dozen pastries, or if I wanted to get a tub of ice-cream and hire some dvd’s.

I was enjoying the sunshine, and whilst thinking of the pro’s and con’s of what I wanted, I grabbed my iPod and started untangling my supposed ‘tangle-free’ earphones, when I heard a group of people coming down the stairs. It was the judges from the panel. The lady that had smiled at me a few times noticed me and said goodbye to the others, before she started walking towards me.

…ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod…

‘You were quite an interesting one to watch today. You did a really good job’

‘Um… thanks?’

‘None of us have seen you before, so you’re obviously one of the new kids on the block, so to speak’

‘Yeah, although I don’t think I have ‘The Right Stuff’ hehehe.’

‘*laughs* Good one. Listen, I’m glad that I bumped into you, I just wanted to say that I really enjoyed watching you today. You really did a great job. Although you were nervous, you danced with passion and authenticity. I don’t actually know anything about you, but a few of us couldn’t stop watching you… even when you weren’t dancing, we were still watching you..’

‘Oh god, why? I was probably picking my nose or something…’

‘Eww, no, you just, there was something about you. There’s a light within you that just makes people want to watch you dance. You need to perform. You need to continue on this path. It’s just so refreshing to see somebody different to the same people we see all the fucking time. It just gets boring, and we tune out, because we’ve seen them all before. They all look the same. Like clones. Except you, you look nothing like them. And you’re clearly talented. There were people with a fuck load more experience than you who got knocked out in the first round, and yet, you made it all the way. We just wanted to see more.’

‘Really?? I don’t know what to say to that’

‘Although your tap was fucking abysmal. One of, if not, the worst of the day! Which was suuuuch a fucking let down, because we were expecting some awesome tap routine from you, but we didn’t get it.’

‘Ha! yeah, well, tap certainly isn’t my favourite style. Actually, I really don’t like it. I have to do it as part of my course, but I’m terrible at it. My ankles don’t seem to want to let me do it. I just can’t get it. And well, I’ve only been doing tap this year for the first time EVER! When the other lady said we were going to do tap, I almost walked out because I knew that I would bomb out on it, but I wanted to be the person who didn’t just give up when it got too hard. At least I can say I completed the audition. I may have completely mucked it up, but at least I finished it, AND I made it to the final callback, which completely shocked the hell out of me, so for that, I must say a big thankyou to you and the rest of the panel.’

‘Yeah, you need to really work on your tap. It’s not a major audition component, but some auditions require solid tap skills. Not all of them do, but it’ll work in your favour if you can get them up to speed. It’s going to work in your favour if you do, trust me. You’ve already got that spark in you, like an x-factor, but if you can do a good, solid, clean, tap solo, you’ll be more of a threat. I’m glad that I got to meet you, you actually made my day.’

‘Seriously? now that’s something you don’t hear everyday!’

‘Hopefully we’ll get to see you again sometime soon. I’ve got your details, and so have some of the others, so if we see you on the audition list, we’ll happily make sure that you get an audition. BUT WORK ON YOUR TAP FOR FUCK’S SAKE!! GOD, THAT WAS SUCH A LET DOWN!!’

‘I’ll try, I can’t promise though. How about if I do audition next time, we just skip the tap altogether, and you just let me do a good job with everything else instead?!’

We both laughed and said goodbye before walking in opposite directions. I think that was one of the most humbling experiences I’ve ever had in terms of dancing. It felt a little weird to be honest. As a dancer, you rarely hear somebody praise you for your talent. Most of the time you just keep getting told that whatever you did could have been better. You get told about all the flaws and imperfections of your talent – you need to work on your turnout, you have bad feet, you’re not flexible enough, you didn’t jump high enough, you need to work on your spotting, your arms are too sloppy, you have ugly turns, your back is too swayed, you look like your trying too hard etc etc etc. That’s just something that you have to get yourself used to very quickly. You need to have a thick skin if you’re going to pursue something like dancing, because everybody will pick you apart for every little thing that isn’t 100 percent perfect. That’s just how it is. It’s not nice. It’s not fair. But that’s how we improve.

For somebody to then turn around and have that kind of positivity and praise for my talent is almost completely foreign, and something that I have always struggled to accept and deal with. I’ve always been quite humble with my dancing. I’m not denying that I’d be quietly confident about my talent, but I wouldn’t be the one displaying the ego telling people that I’m the best and everybody else can just suck it. But for somebody like her to say something like that to me, felt amazing. Audition judges are always seen to be quite hard, and extremely blunt in their feedback or comments, so for somebody to say that they loved watching me dance just blew my mind.

I was on cloud-nine for the rest of the afternoon, and I practically inhaled a tub of ice-cream when I got home and enjoyed every single spoonful!!

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/23/daily-prompt-moon-walking/

Daily Prompt: Isn’t Your Face Red

When was the last time you were embarrassed? How do you react to embarrassment? 

I usually do stuff that I will end up getting embarrassed over quite a lot… Well, embarrassed if people actually know what I did / said etc.

Funnily enough, I am generally quite self-deprecating because I’m usually trying to tell a funny story, or make somebody laugh etc, so I find that at times I’ll end up telling an embarrassing story. However, in saying that, I do have my moments when I get highly embarrassed about things, especially if it’s something that’s brought up, that I wanted to remain private. Those kind of things usually catch me right off guard, and more often than not, I just want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

And, of course, when I’m having these moments, everybody else around me is like,

The last time I embarrassed myself was during a recent trip overseas. Well, it wasn’t what I did that was necessarily embarrassing, but moreso the fact that I actually told other people about that was embarrassing… and so now I’m going to share that story with you…

So here I am overseas on this work trip. I had a free couple of hours, so I thought to myself ‘I think that I might go get a massage. It’s long overdue and I’m feeling quite tight and sore from all the exercise I’ve done in the last couple of days’. 

So I figure seeing as how I’ve seen a number of small asian-operated massage places around town, I’ll try one that looks the cleanest and get like a 90min massage to really work on getting all those knots out. So I go to one that I had set my sights on previously.

…please come back in 30 mins.

Bitch, I don’t have 30 mins.

So I go to another place that I saw the other day… except this one has two locations in the same complex, so this should be fine.

Please come back in 30 mins.

Oh come on!!

So I head to the other location… only to find there’s actually nobody there.

DAMN IT!!

Time to find another place… I know I saw another one around here somewhere… Meanwhile, I’m checking the time, and by this stage, I’ll be lucky if I’m able to get an hour in. I find another place (HOORAY!!) who then asks me to come back in 15-20mins… (SERIOUSLY?!?!)

So now, I’m thinking that I’m not even going to have time to get a massage at all before I have to be back at the gym for a class at 6pm. By this stage it’s 4:40pm and I’ll still need to  go back to the hotel, change, and then race to the gym in order to make my class.

I’m already starting to feel defeated and thinking I should just go to the hotel when I see a sign for massage in some arcade. By this stage, frankly, I don’t care where it is, I just want a massage.

I walk up to the sign outside the door and checking their services and times and I hear this ‘HERRO!… You rike a massage today? How you feel?’

‘Oh, Hi… yes, I was wondering if I could get my lower back and my flutes done for 30 minutes?’

And he looked at me completely puzzled. So in true language-barrier-charades style, I pointed to what I wanted to massage, and he finally understood what I was saying. He lead me inside and took me into this room with a couple of massage tables and asks me to strip down to my briefs.

I was already beginning to feel somewhat uncomfortable as it was in full view of everybody else in the main room having head / neck / feet massages, but he quickly pulled a curtain across to allow me some privacy.

The massage was okay. The pressure was good, but could’ve been better. I already had asked him twice to increase the pressure, and the poor guy couldn’t handle it, I think he was getting more of a workout from it. Every now and then he’d find a different spot and I’d make a small groan sound from the pain and he’d always reply with something like ‘Ahh yes, painful because so tight… so, so, so tigh. You need regurar massage!’

So he attacks one side of my back, then the tops of both sides of my glutes… but not the other side of my back. WHen he finished I questioned him about it, and he said that I only asked for one side.

Seriously, who goes in and asks for a lower-back massage, but just on one side??

Anyway. So I’m starting to stress out about the time and then all of a sudden the old Chinese woman who works there is talking to the guy, then she comes over to me, barks something at me in Chinese, grabs my arm and drags me back to the table.

She continues to talk to me in Chinese, and I keep looking at the guy for some kind of translation, and he’s not saying anything, so I have to remind him I DON’T SPEAK CHINESE, and he just looks at me as though I’ve just babbled something incoherently.

So I look at this old lady, who looks like she’s about 80, and slowly tell her I. DON’T. SPEAK. CHINESE!! and so she makes out a few audible words and then starts to talk to the guy, who then finally begins to translate.

Turns out she wants to give me some free Chinese medicine… so she gets me to lay back down on the table, pokes around on my back and then shows me a small vile of white liquid. She keeps talking to me in Chinese, asking me all kinds of questions, to which I just don’t answer because I’ve know idea what she’s saying.

She sprinkles some of the white liquid on my lower back and then covers it with a length of cling-film. She prompts me to sit up and the guy tells me that she’s just put some medicine on my back, and I might end up with a small warming sensation. I should keep it on for forty-minutes.

Bitch, I don’t have 40mins. I have to GO!!

Then as I’m starting to put my top back on, I start to feel this warming sensation… which begins to get more and more intense. Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, it feels like my back is on FIRE. Searing white-hot fire. It’s like Tiger Balm but the real shit that you can’t buy in Australia, you have to buy it in Thailand or something…

So whilst I’m sitting there thinking that I’m getting third-degree burns, she grabs my arm and takes me back into the main room and pushes me down into a chair…

…to give me a quick head / neck / shoulder massage… Oh, and to contort my body into position they’re not designed to be twisted into!! Ten minutes later, I’m paying my money, stressing out that I’m now going to be late for my class.

Then I’m outta there and power-walking down the main street to the hotel. I’m sending Hulk a string of messages recapping what just happened, and asking him to get some things ready for me… and getting no reply. He’s probably asleep. DAMN IT!!

Then all of a sudden I start feeling hot and sweaty. Where’s one of the primary places people sweat?? Oh that’s right, their lower back! And who’s just had the white-hot liquid of fire spread all over their back?? Yeah… so the burning sensation of fire is starting to rapidly intensify, and then I can feel it beginning to make it’s way even further down my back.

Suddenly, It’s between the top of my butt cheeks. I’ve developed crack sweat. Which, any other time is bad enough. However, crack sweat that’s coming from the white-hot elixir of fire, is a whooooole other story.

Have you ever tried to put something like Tiger Balm, or Deep Heat onto your anus? No? Oh, right, BECAUSE IT HAS NO RIGHT TO EVER BE IN OR NEAR THAT AREA, EVER!! Well, I wasn’t that fortunate, and now my arse, literally, felt like it was on fire. Trying to keep up my pace back to the hotel whilst I feel like there is fire in the rear of my jocks is probably one of the worst experiences ever (without actually causing an injury).

Still haven’t heard back from Hulk, and I’ve got 15mins to get upstairs, change and get to the gym by 6pm.

I race upstairs and sure enough, Hulk is fast asleep. GOD DAMN IT!! Then I launch into whirlwind mode… Literally, tearing around the hotel room packing a pack, filling drink bottles, prepping a protein shake and then I just freeze. I can’t take it anymore. I grab a towel, wet it, get completely naked and rip off the cling film from my back and attempt to wipe off the fire-liquid as much as I can.

Here’s a tip… it actually makes it worse!!

But I didn’t have time to worry about it. Nothing was going to make me miss this class. NOTHING!!

So I get my stuff together and race downstairs and off to the gym… only to get there and find out that the class before mine is running 45mins late.

…what?

After all that.

After all that stressing out, I have so much time up my sleeve. I should’ve gone to have a shower whilst I waited, but I didn’t take a towel with me. So instead I had to sit there and wait, whilst my arse was on fire.

It was excruciating, but then when my class started, I completely stopped thinking about it. I was too in the moment to think about it or even care.

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/05/daily-prompt-red/