early for acting class
i see you. despite your preference for armor.
we don't shake hands or exchange glances.
you sit. i shift bench, to planter, back next to you on bench.
waiting, we both listen to the boasting and blustering of fellow roosters.
you're discouraged too.
i wish my sadness looked as pretty on me.
doors open, off to work.
i make silent, secret wish that, someday, you're the hotdog of our henhouse.
disabled
friday i entered the studio to teach my last class after a long, stressful week. my two-day vacation {first one in some time} was about to begin in 65 minutes; i glided in giddy, only one more hour, and it was teaching one of my favorite classes: a classical pilates, level 2, with all of my regulars, and many other fellow instructors.
in an instant, the glee turned into gloom when my studio advisor told me i'd be having a new student in class:
mike, a gentleman in his 60's, had broken his neck. he was wheelchair bound and had never taken a pilates class. he was coming to take mine.
my skin began to clam, my stomach knotted, and my heart raced.
NO!!! i snarled. you can't let him. it's too dangerous! he needs to do a yoga therapeutics, or a pilates private. you can't let him take my class!
she was concerned too, but much more composed and lovely than my shade of ugly. apparently, mike was not going to take no for an answer. he was coming to take pilates come hell or highwater.
i. was. terrified.
i didn't want him to get hurt. i was worried about liability. i didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with a room of advanced students. i didn't want him to feel unsuccessful or discouraged. he hadn't even shown up, and already i had spun myself into a dreidel of nerves and defenses.
rather than admit my fear, i acted like a bratty child, not getting her way.
i stomped around dramatically, eyes wide on the lookout, hoping to intercept him, and kindly discourage him from coming in.
class began. no mike. i was so relieved. he had changed his mind.
then i heard the clankety clank of an elevator {we have an elevator in this building???}, and realized he was late because our zig-zag, aztec-shaped building: hard enough to traverse even on two, healthy legs, is close to impossible to ascend in a wheelchair.
mike made it. his injury is no joke. from the tips of his toes, to the tops of his ears he is severely affected.
he cannot walk.
but he did get himself on his mat, and from there MY lesson began.
i conducted class like i normally do:
planks, push ups, crisscross, scissors, leg lifts, the gamut. i had two advanced instructors taking class so it wasn't like i could do an hour of diaphragmatic breathing.
mike worked at every exercise i called out. many looked agonizing. because of his injury some weren't workable; 99% of the participants can't do every exercise though. i don't give special attention, nor did he need any. this man's focus and determination could win simultaneous chess and wrestling matches. he heard every word i said. every right, left, lift, lower, breathe in, out. my cues, modifications, corrections had to be laser sharp, clear, and simple.
my body was fine from the demonstration, my brain was fried within the first 15 minutes.
after class, when everyone had left the room and mike was getting himself back into his chair i introduced myself and thanked him for coming. i was moved and emotional. in less than an hour i had undeniably changed roles from that of teacher to student. i was embarrassed by my earlier resistant and ignorant behavior to ban mike from class. rather than projectile vomit my insecurities all over the place {my propensity when faced with those who rock my world}, i just let mike talk.
he explained his injury and informed me it was his third time EVER out of his wheelchair. he was visiting from hawaii, and his wife is afraid to let him do things that involve leaving his chair. he said "but, katie!!, sometimes you just got to live life." and living life last friday meant taking my class no matter what.
no matter how wretched the stair, ramp, elevator system is in our building, regardless of the instructor's provincial and birdbrained attitude about having someone new or different in her class; living life meant not letting a physical body impede a mental and emotional resolve.
one of us walked into that room handicapped. his name wasn't mike.
happy weekend
my sweets,
what yummy concoctions of bustle have you whipped up for the weekend?
hh and i are finally celebrating year #2 of marital bliss {albeit a bit tardy} at a local resort.
for the second anniversary, it is customary to gift cotton.
i'll double dip my chip into that salsa bowl of tradition:
i just wish these linens came with their own handwasher.
preferably something in an ed burns/mark ruffalo mashup.
still nowhere near as hunky as the mister though.
happy weekend loves.
hazed not confused
sometimes this is my clearest lens in life.
many a time these blurry eyes have saved me from feelings hurt or cheeks turned that way.
we can in engage in the scrappy dogfights, get scratched up and bit;
or
we can choose not to play with those silly, boorish puppies misbehaving in their pen.
we can love them, but we don't have to get up on all fours with them.
she's here....
miss autumn has gracefully arrived.
delicious autumn! my very soul is wedded to it, and if i were a bird i would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
~george eliot
a return
i'm hiccup happy to share my latest news.
a few weeks back i made the decision to die a slow, painful, humiliating death
it's truly the most fulfilled, sickly stimulated i've ever been (career-wise, friends & family).
even just acting class, or preparing the crap out of an audition has me sloppy sunny and satisfied.
it's been 5 extensive years since i've auditioned.
everything is SO different: online this, webbed feet that....
thank god they still want great work!!!!
in already two weeks, i've booked two jobs, and i'm on my 2nd call back for a super, non, non, non, non-union film.
{and i've yet to sign with an agent}-more on that later...
today i'm shooting new headshots, have a rehearsal for a fitness video (not my own), and start an acting class tonight.
i'm sprinkling extra hee haw in my coffee.
so that's where i am friends.
i have my mother's voice in the back of my head telling me i'm sounding bold and brass for sharing such things.
ick if i am, handwritten apology note to follow.
but i was getting emails for my vague mentions to l.a., and those of you who take my classes are going to wonder where i've been/where i'm going to be this week.
happy weekend
dears, tell me what's on your weekend playlist?
sweeten my ears with plans of frolic and trick.
i'm neck and neck with the beavers and bees in a match of busy.
polly the prius and i are now having a threesome; it's with the 405 freeway.
come sunday afternoon i hope to have swapped bees for bears, when i'll be napping for the gold medal.
play nice. mind your manners.
xo,
katie
i SEE you
holiday weekend stop acting coy.
stomp yourself up to my porch;
better have packed a bag too.
i'm readly to lounge languidly, sip sleepily, and rest richly.
turning off phones, brain, computer, and mouth {you're welcome robert}.
with my summer track on repeat, we'll burn the scent of jasmine one last time;
commemorating our season gone by, making room for period anew.
happy weekend.
fashionably late
summer has arrived.
she sauntered in round 3 o'clock yesterday afternoon, and took no time to get comfortable.
ceiling fans whirl, windows stay raised, yet the air feels like flannel.
tonight it's mint juleps, nina simone, and every door in the house open to a neighborly breeze.
amazing grace
as in nature, as in art, so in grace; it is rough treatment that gives souls, as well as stones, their luster.~thomas guthrie
my theology
when i do good, i feel good.
when i do bad, i feel bad.
that's my religion.
-abraham lincoln
click images for source
forget ya troubles c'mon get happy!
balls to bleakness.
i see you mr. sunshine; winky winky-ing at me behind that cloudy grey.
giggling is my score.
sloppy, summer smiles are my accessories.
grid of memories from the past and fears of the future; enslaving me to stupor:
i thee depart.
euphoric chaos of the present, i shall wear you like a resplendent ballgown.
let's dance.
critical mass
accolades and audiences may tempt a loftier leap or sweeter smile,
but my own eyes and ears rank heaviest on my overall opera.
i find my finest feats of human kindness are always best carried out stag.
there's nothing more fulfilling than hearing the applause of just my own heart and head.
happy weekend
i'll take sleep wherever i can find it these days.
i have a bear of a weekend dears.
what about you?
a simple wish
it's party time.
shhhhhh.....it's a surprise.
we've been planning, and trying to keep it under wraps.
but the day has come.......
HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISTINA!!!!
it's going to be a crowded bash over at soul aperture; for the ledger of all who love the empress is long and grows by the hour.
our entry ticket must a list of simple things to "show what we appreciate, and what we are grateful for – no matter how big or small, these things may seem.”
i give you ten of mine:
sunday morning dates with my new york times and a pot of coffee. no cell phone or laptops making fourth wheel appearances.
a summer song for after dinner strolling; or for sipping wine in solitude on the sofa.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cuZo7pLnL7c]
trust.
an afternoon nap.
a bare beach.
ponytails.
handwritten letters
hearty, savoury meals.
a night at the movies.
manners.
there you have it. my simple things for the summer.
happy birthday miss christina.
one giant ladleful of love to you lovely lady.
click images for source.
kreativ blogger
i'm sure there was some sort of mistake.
i'm so not worthy of such an award,
but, in what i suspect was copious amount of black tar heroin consumption,
the divine deborah of dumbwit tellher bestowed the very generous kreativ blogger badge upon moi.
to say i have procrastinated is putting it mildly: she gifted me march 1st.
tis how i roll. i'm still sending out wedding invitations, and we're coming up on our 2nd year anniversary.
i tend to fall behind.
part of my hesitance has been the job of summoning up 7 personal items of substance and circumstance to impart upon, you, my loveliest of readers.
i can easily give you 7 things that are annoying and compulsive. but the former......i gots nuttin.
rather than try to dazzle i will go for the informative route. these may not be sparkly, antic facts, but all are true and differentiate me from the all the other mouthy, half-japanese/half caucasian, childless, compulsive eating, newport beach housewives around here.
1. i am terrified i will be the worst mother ever. we're talking joan crawford style wretched. i'm in love with a baby i haven't even conceived. but i'm deathly afraid said child will be asking hh for someone more adept and competent with her first words.
2. i love gummi bears. but only the haribo brand. and only the orange and yellow bears. i won't touch red, white and green. they taste like someone else's regurgitated jello shots: a senior graduation trip to puerta vallarta i'm still trying to forget.
3. i like to have things planned way ahead of time. and i make lists like ina garten makes cobblers.
i'm a moronic-scheduling-maniac, who writes everything done in my filofax (yes, i still live in the 1990's), re-syncs it in my blackberry, and triple confirms it to my desk calendar. i even schedule my spontaneity.
4. i take multiple baths everyday.
5. crickets. i hate crickets. i also hate silence which, in effect, is pseudo-crickets.
6. my left pinky toe lies horizontal. i was born with it this way. we call it bitch toe.
7. i am always cold. i wear a fluffy, cozy wrappy all the time to keep warm. even in 100 degree costa rica sunshine i had goosebumps. it's no longer adorable to my hh, but to still to get his attention i dramatically cry out, "baby, i am frijoles!!".
yes, i know this translates to " i am beans." BUT i like the way it almost sounds like "i am freezing", and it makes him smile.
so there you go. my seven things. it only took me 4 months to figure them out, put them to paper, and post.
i'm apparently supposed to tag the kreativ blogger onto 7 other blogs to keep the party going.
argh!! i hate that i have to narrow it down to 7....
duel living, jeune marie, sweet nothings, reverie, trust your style, with love from pittsburgh, and audrey onassis.
feel free to accept the tag if you like or pass it on to your discretion.
thank you again deb. you set the standard, oh goddess of katy, texas.