How Do You Breathe?

It's seven am. I've been off work since five am. I'm watching So You Think You Can Dance that I recorded. Drinking hard cider (which tastes much better then beer) and feeling slightly sad. I love this show. LOVE. It's much better then Dancing With The Stars. because this isn't just fading celebrities who need attention but actual real dancers who love what they do with so much passion that even my nondancing boyfriend loves it. So as a burned out dancer, I love it. But sometimes it makes me sad to watch it. Once upon a time I loved dancing. I devoted my life to it. Breathed it. But as Erin tells her little school children "life is hard" and mom and dad could no longer afford lessons and I went to work at the family store (really, we had a family store. How little house on the prairie is that? Turns out, not so much) So watching SYTYCD I can't help but wonder if I would have made it past auditions. If life had been slightly different would I be warming up backstage for some show at night instead of running on some treadmill every night just to get enough exercise so I can sleep at night? Some things you can't quit. I still dance in my kitchen while cooking. When I turn, I do so on my toes. If a boy spins me... I'll confess my love. I still look for a decent salsa club and I still think I can convince the boyfriend that ballroom lessons is what he really wants for christmas. I know dance is something I write about alot, mostly with regret, but I writing is theraputic and since I'm not likely to become a professional dancer at this age, I write. But I think we all have something that we are holding on to. Whether its a passion that we couldn't fulfill or a love that went wrong. So hopefully when I'm writing on my unfullfilled love for dance, you are dwelling on whatever or whoever it was that got away from you. I think mankind was made for passions. Grand, poem sprouting passion. And I think we are taught to be ashamed of showing such passion (unless it's vampire related) so we let go of what we love because we're told we need to grow up. We get jobs that involve computers and costumer service while we silently dream of dancing or soccer or comic book creating. Isn't it sad to realize your parents crushed your dreams when they thought they were preparing you for the real world. And maybe they were. Maybe a 9-5 job is what the real world is all about. But It's one thing to have given up on a dream. It's another to have a dream replaced with responsibility that shouldn't have been yours. "It must have been love, but it's over now"

I'll never learn

I'm still in training. In fact, I'll be in training for most of the next year. Possibly the rest of my life. I'm not pleased with this. All this.. learning. At least there is no homework. Yet.

Amidst all this forced learning I've managed to learn two new things about myself. Both completely surprising.

I've learned that I like coffee. Well, that I like mocha's. Which I think is coffee but with lots of sugar and other stuff to make it less coffee like. So I guess you can say I like weak non coffee. But it's a step. Now for those of you who know me and have gasped "but Sam?! won't you be up all night? half a coke keeps you up all night!". Well don't worry about me. I've only had it very early in the morning, like at eight or nine am. So I'm wired for most of the day, and as long as I run at night I can manage to sleep. But thanks for worrying about me, you guys really are the best.

I discovered this tentative, bubble wrapped love affair with mocha just the other day. For work we had to do an eight to five day downtown for Ethics training. Which meant I had to be up far too early. Especially since we decided to ride the light rail in order to avoid dealing with traffic and parking. So I show up at the substation at seven thirty, cranky, sleepy and all around lovable as I generally am in the morning, sure that the day was going to be awful. But.. it wasn't. It was my first time on the light rail, and as corny it sounds, I really like riding public transportation. The people riding are always fascinating to watch and somehow my Ipod (thanks again for the shiny ipod Chris) played exactly what I needed to wake me up. Once we were off, we stopped at a local coffee shop. It was only a five minute walk from the light rail to the building we had to go to, so we had a little time. And it was nice. Really nice. Just walking down the street with a light wind, hot coffee and a comfy jacket. I could almost pretend like I wasn't heading to more training. And that's when I discovered the second thing about me.

I don't mind mornings.

Well, let me rephrase. I do mind mornings. My normal routine is to wake up twenty minutes before I have to be somewhere, curse at everyone who drives slower then me, slid into my seat and glower at the world. It then normally takes me about an hour to wake up fully and be a functional member of society.

But the other morning when I was forced to wake up extra early for that meeting I discovered that mornings can be kinda nice. They can start off relaxing and soothing. And all it would take is for me to be willing to wake up an hour early each morning. An hour that I could spend working out. Or eating a real breakfast. Or do my hair. Or just watching an episode of Buffy before I head off to work, all relaxed and put together.

So that night I set my alarm for an hour before I normally get up.
And the next morning I hit the snooze button until my normal time.

Which is I rediscovered something about myself. I'm just not a morning person. If I can sleep an extra ten minutes, I will. Even if I've had a full nights sleep. I'll stay up until I'm about to fall asleep on the couch (again) but I hate waking up before I have to. And even though I know how nice it is to have extra time in the morning... I can't do it. It's just not worth it to me. Not even if it means a mocha in the morning.

Update

Things that I've been doing lately instead of writing: 1. Working 10 hour days 4 days a week. 2. Enjoying having 3 days off each week. 3. Sleeping. A lot. 4. Reading Flipping the Switch on Technologly by Eric Brende ( He and his wife move to an amish community. Its awesome. Plus, I feel strangely close to Lachelle and Manassah while reading it) 5. Stalking your blog and feeling let down when you don't update daily (Seriously, I have needs!) 6. Receiving my first paycheck with a ridiculas amount of money. Which all went to pay bills because I went two months without working. 7.Hating Tony Horton. Cheeky bastard 8. Having a kickass Halloween. Seriously. I have picture proof that my halloween was better than yours.

I started P90X again. I'm on the second week. Which means Yoga once a week.

Have I mentioned how much I hate yoga?

Great Expectations

I hate when I have internet problems. Going a week without internet makes me feel disconnected. And then when I finally have access once again I don't know how to start writing again. Or maybe that's just an excuse. I've found there are times when I write almost daily. Then there are times when it's hard to write once a week. I guess this is just one of those weeks.

I have officially clocked 40 hours of work at the new job. The job that has been my goal for a little over a year. The job that will supposably put me on the path to my dreams. The job that will allow me to make lots of money, go to school and enjoy what I do (somewhat). Don't feel pressured JOB, I'm sure you'll be great.

So what are my thoughts on the new job so far?

I like it. I haven't actually done anything yet, mostly just listening to 911 calls and studying the radio codes so I can super sneaky things like "The 101 is 10-17" or "Yeah, I'm Code 4 thanks to the 647T". Wait, I think that last one says I'm ok thanks to the transit. Err. Like I said, I'm still learning.

But it's exciting. The calls are interesting, sometimes exasperating and sometimes heartbreaking. This job may make me lose my faith in people, but that was waning anyway.

I know it will be hard. And it will be stressful. But that's ok. It's been a while since I've really felt challenged by something. It will be good for me.

Plus the paycheck will rock.

Continue that train thought please...

It's not that I forgot about this blog, I've just been a tad bit busy.
Busy doing nothing in Mexico. Which was fabulous.

Now, where were we? Oh right. Books.

I'm a Book person. We're a particular group of people. We come in all shapes and sizes. Some of us love libraries. Some of prefer old used bookstores while others are Barnes and Noble snobs. We're a little hard to define. For instance: does someone who only reads anima get to be considered a Book person? To qualify does one have to quota to read each month? I'm not sure. What I do know is that when I meet someone I know pretty quickly if they are a Book person or not. Somehow we recognize each other.
And we know when you're faking too. So put your copy of Twilight away. We're on to you.

I can't tell you if Book people are born or created. Would I be a Book person if my family hadn't moved as much as we did? If we had stayed in Orem all my life would I be a Quilt person? Or would I still have spent my childhood begging my mom to go to the library again. My poor mother didn't know what to do with me. I think she found a reading list of classic literature for high school students and just started recommending them to me when I was in the fourth grade. So my reading career went something like this. Pre-reading on my own -Serendipity books, 1st grade to 4th grade -The Baby Sitter's Club, 4th grade -Victor Hugo, Dickens, The Bronte Sisters and so on. I devored the classics. By high school I knew that Hemingway was overrated, Edmund Dantes was dreamy in a brooding, emotionally unavailable sort of way, and that rebellions as whole seem to cause lots of suffering before they achieve any good. I had acquired a massive vocabulary that I couldn't really pronounce cause I had only read the words and never heard them spoken aloud. I would say phrases that were slightly out of date. In junior high I was nervously conversing with a cute boy about a teacher we both hated and I said "oh yeah, she's awful. I hate her with a fiery passion." I think he laughed at me for a solid five minutes.

In high school I met Matt, who was another Book person. But Matt was a fantasy Book person. He introduced me to Robert Jordan and I nearly failed math as a result. I spent a good few years ransacking book shops in search of good fantasy. Then I slid into a history phase, reading books that were so dry I was afraid they'd start a brush fire. Yet I loved them. I met another Matt and he wasn't much of a Book person but he liked memoirs and he gave me a taste into that world, which is the phase I'm currently in.

So you see, I've always considered myself a fairly well rounded Book person.

Two weeks ago I was visiting some dear friends in Utah. We started discussing books, cause we're prone to do that. In the course of the conversation Andy and Lachelle mentioned several authors and books that.. well, I had never heard of. I felt my face go red. It was if we were all movie fanatics (which we are as well, but thats not the point) and they suddenly started to discuss their favorite war movies and I realized Saving Private Ryan was the only war movie I had seen. It didn't matter how many other movies in other genres I had watched. I was woefully lacking in the war department. I'm not used to feeling inadequate in the literature department. I'm not great at ball sports. I'm kind of flighty, my life plan changes daily. But books, books, that I'm good at. I felt the urge to go to a bookstore immediately and read all the books that Andy mentioned, just so I could catch up. So I could be smart, like them.

Then I realized.
It's ok that I haven't read the same books as them. It's ok that I haven't hit that phase yet. I may never hit that phase. Lachelle and I may never see eye to eye on books. That doesn't make me less of a Book person. It's ok that I prefer classics, and noire and urban fantasy. I'm a Book person, it's not like we're at the top of the cool chain.

Besides, I'm pretty sure Andy and Lachelle love me despite the lack of similar reading tastes.

Confessions

I freely admit to blog stalking. It's a sickness.

My damn curiosity + my fascination with people + my need to read + books being expensive = blog stalking.

It can't be helped.

I love reading blogs. It doesn't matter if I know the authors or not. It doesn't matter if it's well written (though it helps). It doesn't matter if the blog is all pictures.I like pictures. I'll read it. And if I like what I read, I'll revisit that blog as often as it's updated. In fact, I'll get annoyed if it's not updated often enough. And by "enough" I mean two or three times a week.

Which means that you, Miss Taylor AND Miss Lachelle, are in the red for not updating enough.

Andy, you're doing fantastic.

In fact, the whole reason I started a public blog was because I felt guilty about how I was sneaking around the blogs, hiding in the shadows, getting to know all these fabulous people, while they have no idea that I am silently applauding their recent diet efforts or that I too think their hair cut is fabulous ps thanks for posting pictures. I suppose I felt it was only fair to share myself with the blog world as well.

Why the sudden need to confess you ask? Well because I read a blog entry that I not only sparked my interest, but sparked a train of thought of my own. And some of you that read my blog and read hers will see the common themes. So I figured I'd confess now instead of you drawing your own conclusions and think I'm some creepy blog stalker. Which I am. But that's not the point.

So the lovely blog entry I read can be found here - http://emdab.blogspot.com/2009/10/book-people.html . No I don't know her, but I find her to be absolutely delightful. I was overjoyed to read this perticular entry because I too am a Book People. And we Book People love reading about others like us. We love talking to other people like us. We like knowing that we are not alone in this big XBox world we live in.

I'm going to stop here. It's getting late and I realized this entry was a little more then I can chew/write in one sitting. So here's some homework. Read the above blog entry. And tomorrow or possibly the day after (let's be realistic, the day after) I will post my thoughts about the said blog. Sounds good? Good.

Goodnight moon.