Tag: Dance of Life

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Specialized Social Networking Sites Are Becoming All The Rage…

Thanks to reader Sharon for alerting me to this new social networking site, Ballroom Dance Channel. Founded by Dancing With the Stars pro dancers Maksim Chmerkovskiy, Tony Dovolani, and Elena Grinenko, it is geared toward, as the name implies, fans of ballroom dance, and of the show. It’s similar to Kristin Sloan’s The Intermission (for all dance aficionados but mainly ballet), and Ken Davenport’s BroadwaySpace.com (for those involved in theater). Perhaps these more specialized social networking sites can avoid some of the pitfalls of their mammoth brethren.

Ironically, as internet technology allows people better ways to connect with each other in virtual time, it works to hamper that connection in real time. Of all the talk about Amazon’s new Kindle (basically an ipod for books, blogs and online mags), Meghan Daum’s critique is my favorite. She basically says that glancing at the cover of a fellow airplane traveler’s book was a perfect conversation starter. A fellow book lover, I agree with her — not just on planes, but in cafes, the park, the subway — recognizing a favorite book in the hands of another is a sure point of connection. I guess there’s always Shelfari though, which likely can be accessed from one’s Kindle…

In other news, it appears that Elizabeth Berkeley is to host Bravo’s new reality dance show, “Step It Up And Dance.” I knew she had some connection to dance, since I saw her on the red carpet. Also, Pasha & Anya are scheduled to perform in Stamford, Connecticut later in December (thanks to Laurel for that info!), in a ballroom dancing extravaganza called “Rhythm of Love,” which also stars some of my other favorites, new national American Smooth and Rhythm champs respectively, J.T. Thomas & Tomasz Mielnicki, and Jose DeCamps & Joanna Zacharewics. If you love ballroom and you’re not too far from southern CT, this should be a fabulous night. Book-wise, if you’re in NY, this weekend is the (free) Small and Independent Press Book Fair in midtown. Go here for a schedule of events.

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I'm Independent With Low Self Esteem, And You?…

Am bouncing off the walls waiting for tonight!

I’ve been researching the standards by which forensic handwriting analysts take handwriting samples — I know, excitement uncontained … actually it is pretty interesting though, how one is able, or not, to compare two pieces of handwriting to see if they are written by the same person. Anyway, in my research I came across an article devoted to handwriting analysis, as in how to tell one’s personality traits through one’s handwriting. Even though I have about as much faith in this as in, say, astrology, of course I am now obsessing over my own handwriting…

(For the record, handwriting expert testimony is only admissible in court as proof of forgery, NOT to show that someone has a criminal mindset and therefore may have committed the crime they’re charged with because of their handwriting!)

Anyway, according to this chart (scroll down to the cursive), I’m independent, but have some self-esteem problems. I write with lots of big loops, which this person says indicates independence. But, I tend to cross my t’s down low — mainly because I think they’re cute that way — instead of up high. Supposedly, high crossers have high self-esteem and low crossers, I assume, the opposite. Hmmm. I have esteem issues! But high crossers are also competitive and who wants that?… Although, I can be a bit that way… Also, according to the chart, people who make weird loopy things with their lowercase letters whose tails extend below the line (as in ‘y’ or ‘j’) may have some perversity issues. I think I remember Ariel showing a picture that a certain ballet superstar autographed for her when he guested with the Mobile Ballet, and I think I remember his final ‘g’ being a bit crazed down there. But that was on her old blog, which she’s taken down so no way of checking…

Okay, back to serious work!

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"The New York City Dance Community"

dance community NY group photo in bryant park

I don’t know who in the dance community annoys me more: those who consider themselves hipper than thou and call themselves “downtown,” or those who consider Ballet the only form of dance.

Spurred by Eva’s suggestion, I went to Bryant Park this afternoon to take part in the first ever group photograph of the New York dance community, organized by Belgian online dance initiative Sarma and local dance collective Chez Bushwick. Everyone who considered themselves part of the dance community was invited. Since I’m a dance blogger, ballet and modern fan and amateur ballroom dancer, I decided that included me.

When I arrived I spotted a robust, jovial-looking, curly-haired man wearing a t-shirt that announced he was a member of the photo op, and headed toward him. I kind of look like Sylvia Plath but shorter and with darker hair, or maybe Suzanne Farrell but not anywhere near as pretty 🙂 I have long hair and was wearing a ballet-y black bouncy-skirted sundress bow-tied at the waist by a red silk scarf, and sandals whose straps were topped with embroidered flowers. I was carrying an oversized pink bag bearing books. After making brief eye contact with me, the man peered around me to another woman and began greeting her, until I stopped right in front of him.

“Oh hi,” he said to me, surprised. “Um, we’re actually taking a photograph of the New York dance community here. Would you like to participate?” he asked hesitantly.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I’m here for,” I said.

“Oh. Oh good,” he said handing me a piece of paper announcing the rules (you gave them permission to use the photos of you on the internet and in magazines, yadda yadda). He also told me after the picture was taken, I was to sign my name on a roster of attendees and would receive a sticker entitling me to a free drink at one of the concession stands. He then told me they were running a little behind schedule and directed me to take a seat at one of the tables in an adjacent elevated area along the path.

I did as he suggested. Turned out to be the perfect little perch for me since its elevation gave me a good view of the crowd. I enjoy being an observer. Plus, I was having a bad hair day and was a little worried of running into Marcelo or David or one of my ballet heartthrobs, so could be on the lookout and duck for cover if need be. I had nothing to worry about as it turned out: there wasn’t a soul from the ballet world there.

Many people began arriving, and I didn’t know anyone. Finally, I spotted a fellow blogger in the crowd. As he was making his way to the tabled area after receiving his instruction paper, I waved to him.

“What are you doing all the way over here?” he said as he approached. I didn’t really understand the question so responded with a quizzical look.

“We don’t ever see each other,” he then announced, “because you’re a snobby elitist who only goes to uptown things. I go to all the cool downtown things.”

I just stared at him, not really knowing what to say. He laughed. Apparently I was supposed to take it as a joke.

“Well, I’m going to go around and meet new people while you sit here like a wallflower.” And he was off.

I kind of sat there stupefied. I think I saw Eva, but after that didn’t feel like getting up to say hello. Maybe some other time. I saw Jonah Bokaer, one of the organizers of the event and a dancer with Merce Cunningham. He’s rather cute in person 🙂 He was going around giving people who looked like they belonged small bottles of water. That didn’t include me. He looked right through me when he passed directly in front of my table even though I had my piece of paper with the instructions prominently displayed. A twenty-something woman with dark hair bearing a green “press pass” around her neck was going around with a notepad. She stopped at a table in front of me at which sat a man and two women with really cool-looking dreadlocks. I overheard them tell her they were retired dancers, now choreographers. I wondered if the interviewer was Gia.

About half an hour later, an announcer muttered something over a microphone that barely worked. From the crowd’s actions, I figured he was telling people to line up to his left. I followed suit, but kind of wish I’d just have stayed where I was to take pictures. I got a space all the way in the back of the crowd. I could hear him now telling taller people to move to the back, but apparently the average man over six feet either doesn’t understand English or has no sense of his size in comparison to others. Or else “downtown” male dancers are just rude. Some tiny women in the back brought over some chairs and stood on them. Soon, a security guard was in on the action ordering the people to get off the chairs. They paid him no mind. He yelled louder. They continued to ignore him. I couldn’t believe their audacity. And it did look dangerous: the plastic chairs were very insubstantial and the ground was really rocky and unstable. I wouldn’t stand on such a thing and these were dancers. He walked right up to one of them and yelled in her face to get off the chair or else. This was far more exciting than the photographer up front!

“Oh come on, officer” she whined like a character in Rent. Thankfully the last picture was snapped and the whole experience over, so there was no further trouble.

Good thing about being in the back was I was first in line to record my name. That of course didn’t mean I was actually first to do so. As the man handed me pen and paper, someone reached over my head and snatched the whole right out of my fingers, bumping me on the crown with the back board. Other pens and rosters were handed about, arms flying feet stomping everywhere. About fifteen minutes later I was finally able to scribble my name, identity (blogger), place of birth and email address, and receive my sticker, which I promptly took to the nearest concession stand.

“What’s this thing?” the clerk snapped.

“We’re supposed to get a free drink?” I said.

She laughed shaking her head. “I don’t know nothin’ about this.”

“The dance community gathering, over there,” I pointed to the raucous crowd bombarding the man with the rosters and stickers.

“I don’t know and I don’t wanna know,” she spit.

I guess it was a fitting end to a discomfiting experience. Weird, I was just saying how good it felt to be part of the dance community.

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"As Far As We Know" on the Fringe

On Saturday night my friend, Evangelina, invited me to a play showing as part of the currently underway NYC Fringe Festival, in which her husband, Michael Batelli, was an actor. I’ve never been to the Fringe Festival before, and haven’t been to a dramatic play in a while, so it was quite a treat.

“As Far As We Know” is a fictional re-imagining of the true story of an Army reservist who went missing in Iraq in April 2004 after his convoy was ambushed en route to Baghdad. Five days later, Al-Jazeera TV broadcast a videotape showing that 20-year-old reservist (whose real name is Keith Maupin but is here given the name Jake Larkin) surrounded by masked men. Six weeks later, another videotape emerged, showing, possibly, some kind of execution, though the tape was of such poor quality that the Army deemed it “inconclusive” both of whether it indeed showed a slaying, and whether, if so, it was actually that of Maupin. Unlike with all other military persons, journalists, and missionaries shown in similar tapes, Maupin’s body was never recovered, and there has been no word from him or his captors ever since. The Army has since promoted Maupin three times, in abstentia, and his family and friends in his hometown of Batavia, Ohio, continue hopefully to await his return.

I’m embarrassed to admit, but, somehow I’d never heard of Maupin. It’s impossible of course not to find his story immensely powerful and poignant, but I was also intrigued by the fact that, to this day, nearly three years later, there’s been no closure. Captors have been so up front with other kidnappings; either they were oddly out of step on this one, Maupin is still being held, or as the play hints, there was some kind of Army coverup. According to the play the ambush was partly the result of information sent by a Private to an incorrect email address, and Larkin’s drill sergeant, who later left the Army disillusioned, tells Larkin’s sister she believes the troops received inadequate training, ultimately confiding that she feels partly responsible.

The story was, interestingly, told in non-linear fragments and used mixed media (videoclips –both actual footage and tapes filmed by the actors — were interspersed with the staging). My only problem was that I found it a little too unwieldy and lacking in focus, which is, I’d assume, wont to happen when something is directed by the entire ensemble instead of a single person. It was, by turns, about Larkin’s family members and how they dealt with the situation, about the politics of the possible Army coverup, and about the Army personnel assigned to assist the family and act as go-between between family, military and media. Kelly Van Zile, who played Larkin’s sister, was a powerhouse of an actress and she really made me feel the sister’s pain as well as her internalized conflict between anger at and desperate need to believe in the military.

But it’s pretty obvious how the sister is going to feel. I thought a more dramatically interesting focus would be the young female Army captain charged, in her first assignment, with acting as liaison between the Army and the family. At the beginning of her portion of the story, she is shown listening to a tape dictating the proper way to break horrible news to a family: succinctly and with restrained compassion. With the Larkin family, of course, since there is no such “news” but only indefinite puzzlement, her job is near impossible, and infinite in duration (the Army moves her into a hotel down the street from the Larkins). The most powerful, most human scenes are those where the sister’s pain permeates the captain’s continuous attempt at a tough exterior and the captain gives in — first allowing the sister to keep hold of an all-important cell phone giving her instant access to the Pentagon (and on-the-spot news of Larkin), then writing personal checks to pay the distraught family’s utility bills, and eventually, against firm orders, allowing the family to attend an emotional homecoming for the soldiers returning from Larkin’s unit.

Glitches aside, though, it was a very compelling play and I’m definitely going to keep my ears open now for info about Maupin.

I’m late in getting this post up seeing as how it’s now mid-week, but kind of coincidental given that I received an email today from one of our servicemen, Paul, from Stamford, Connecticut, now serving in Iraq. Paul tells me that he’s enjoying learning some salsa dancing over there. Thanks for emailing, Paul. Take care of yourself, and please come home safe and sound 🙂 Oh, and of course please let us know how your salsa is coming along!

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Mouse King Update

Thanks you guys for all of your help and suggestions on what to do about my new little “pet” 🙂 I’m just now seeing them this morning since all day yesterday I avoided the apartment! Yesterday in the park I completely freaked out over a puppy daschund. I was walking along and didn’t see him until he wagged his little tail at me, causing me to jump sky high. I don’t think he’d ever had that kind of reaction to his presence before and the poor little thing began whimpering; his owner looked at me like I was on something… I then realized how ridiculous it is to be afraid of a tiny little mouse, who, from his behavior yesterday, is likely far more afraid of me: I braved the shower yesterday only to hear some messing about in the kitchen right when I opened the bathroom door. I first screamed, then peered around the door just in time to see him do a swan dive behind the stove. I screamed again and shut myself in the bathroom for 1/2 hour more. When I emerged, I ran over to my desk, far from the kitchen, sat and turned the computer on, when I saw his little shadow coming out from under the nearby futon. I screamed and he turned around and went back underneath! That was the last I saw him, nearly 24 hours ago (but of course I’ve only been in the apartment for about 10 of those hours, and mostly sleeping up in my loft, where my mom told me he wouldn’t climb???) I’m very lazy and never cook in the apartment, so don’t really have much for him to nibble on in here; maybe he got bored and decided to look for a snack elsewhere. Of course, I’m sure he’s still somewhere in the building. I’m not going to be bringing my usual takeout in, though, think I’ll be eating out for the next few days 🙂

One good thing coming out of it: for the first time in about two years, I got the nerve to talk to the cute but slightly odd Russian guy next door (just from some odd noises he makes over there — one time I wasn’t sure if he was having an epilectic seizure or sex; I honestly sat there in my loft worrying about whether I should be calling 911 on him). Well, I realized he’s very nice and approachable and smart, and not too weird at all! (He told me to use the trap that kills them instantly though to be more humane). M, I never thought of putting those glue traps in the freezer! I fear I’d never put another food morsel in that freezer though! I think if I see him again, I’ll take Melinda’s suggestion and try to find a non-deadly trap where I can just run the thing outside, although I’d probably scream and he’d fly off the second I touched it… I’d love to get another cat, Philip, but my blasted allergist keeps telling me I’m allergic. Actually, I had quite a crush on that doctor, though I could never figure out if he was gay — he looked like a 50-something version of Rupert Everett 🙂 Maybe this is a good reason to go back, tell him I need another allergy-to-cats test!

Thanks again for the comments 🙂 I’m was thinking, geez, what a horrible pig I am that I’ve actually attracted a mouse, so glad to know I’m far from the only one! This definitely beats the water snake who climbed up a toilet in my dorm in Arizona. It wasn’t my room, but I still didn’t go the bathroom for days…

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Help help please please

Help help please please

Originally uploaded by swan lake samba girl via mobile.


I was sitting on my couch contently reading my new saira rao book when for the first time ever something darted across my floor. I have never ever had a mouse problem ever — ever! Likely because i used to have a cat (who passed away not long ago) what to do what to do what to do! I absolutely cannot kill anyone — how do i nicely entice him or her out??? How do i even find it?

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Eight Interesting Things About Yourself Meme

I was tagged by a new blog friend, Virginia Lee, for this meme. Ms. Lee found me through an internet search on SYTYCD and I’m honored to be included in her and her circle of friends’ “game of tag” — so thanks Virginia!

It was really really hard for me to come up with answers to an open-ended questionnaire like this and I’m not sure if any of these things are actually interesting or just weird (or not), but here goes:

1) I suffer from two somewhat bizarre disorders: 1) TAC (trigeminal autonomic cephalgia) headaches, and 2) Globus Sensate, or, depending on whether you’re a Freudian, Globus Hystericus. Of course neither disorder may be all that unusual: the first is often misdiagnosed as migraine headache, and the second is psychological, so when patients show up at their doctor’s office complaining of a strange lump in the throat that won’t go away and makes it difficult to swallow, speak and sometimes even breathe and all manner of medical tests are performed that yield no results, the medical doctor often dismisses the patient with an “it’s nothing,” “it’s all in the head,” or “just don’t think about it and it’ll go away.”

2) My favorite thing to have for dessert is a bowl of Cocoa Pebbles 🙂

3) I’ve studied French, Spanish, Russian, and Mandarin but can’t speak any language besides English. I can read street and subway signs in Russia though!!! And, unlike the other three, I can semi-understand Russian spoken by natives, so even if you only know a little bit, it’s not that hard to be a traveler there. It’s a heavy language and therefore must be spoken very slowly, so even Russians themselves can’t go flying through their sentences at lightening speed!

4) My great grandmother was a Blackfoot American Indian.

5) I’m really sensitive to noise and so, when I am working or sleeping, am easily bothered by other people’s TVs and stereos (NYC is a GREAT place for people like me 🙂 ) So, I drown it out with … tango music. I have no idea why but tango music works ideally for that. Other kinds of music — whether classical, pop, or other kinds of Latin, involve me too much, further reducing my concentration. For some odd reason, not tango!

6) After 9/11 I didn’t fly for over three years (was looking up into the sky at the second plane from a little too close), and I love to travel. So I then fell in love with long train rides and cruises (favorite train ride from NY is to Montreal and cruise to Puerto Rico). What finally got me on a plane again was a ballroom dance competition! I couldn’t afford to take off the time from work required to Amtrak it down to Florida (30 hours each way), and NY to Miami is a relatively short flight, so it was perfect. Still, I’m a very nervous flyer, and, since then the farthest I’ve been is only London (eight hour flight when going against the wind). I used to fly all over the place… I’m going to have to go to Brazil or something. Will just have to down a bottle of wine before boarding (perhaps something stronger….)

7) I’ve never pumped gasoline into a car before. I guess this is on my mind since I’m about to take a road trip (to Jacob’s Pillow, in the Berkshires, in MA). I moved to NYC when I was just out of grad school and had never owned a car before, and now never drive, so it was just something I never had the lovely experience of doing. My friends enjoy making fun of me though. Are self serves legal though anymore? In NY and NJ they’re not, but they were in the West, where I grew up.

8) I went to law school because I actually thought I could help change the world — through the LAW!!! So sad that this is a joke…

Okay, now I have to tag eight people:

1) Bellydancer Natalia, the very first commenter on my blog who I didn’t already know! (Thanks Natalia 🙂 )

2) My friend, of whom I am eminently jealous since she had the courage to leave law school: Parker. She’s a Bellydancer, Ballroom dancer, Ballet dancer, and possible future Burlesque dancer — if it’s a form of dance and it begins with a “B” she’s done it!

3) Theater dancer Erin, whose creative post titles have exposed me to all kinds of Broadway show lines and who has cracked me up many a time with her zany audition adventures!

4) My fellow ballet-lover, Oberon, who is perhaps even more obsessed with New York City Ballet than I am with ABT.

5) My fellow ABT-omane, Jennifer, whom I met here, but who now lives in CA and whose views from the West of our favorite ballet company I am really enjoying.

6) Ditto for Art, my newish blog friend, a fellow Marcelo-crushee and new Veronika Part admirer 🙂

7) M, my favorite ballet dancer / emerging choreographer to get into really REALLY funny dance fights with 🙂

8) open to anyone. If I accidentally left someone out who wants to take part, please do, just let me know when you put up your post so I can read it! (I left out people who look too busy gallavanting all over Europe, getting married, interning at big huge magazines in NYC, or who just haven’t posted in forever for whatever reason). Also, if tagees are too busy, don’t worry, I understand! This was ridiculously hard!

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Bad Gay Friends!!!

I was going to blog about this, but Jennifer beat me to it! Ha ha! Time Out New York‘s cover this week features a fat, fluffy, very cuddly-looking, female-friendly kitty, with the cover story, “Why You’re Single (And What You Can Do About It).” Inside, they list a plethora of reasons for that conundrum, one of which is titled “Because you’re a straight woman who only goes out with her gay friends.” I found it kind of funny that this reason is listed nearly half-way through, and not at the top of the article (this is a NYC magazine after all — don’t a great many women suffer from this here!!!) Anyway, Katharine Rust, who wrote the little piece under this topic, which contains ideas for bars, restaurants and events where such a person could go to to meet Mr. (Straight) Right, begins by noting: “A gal would be crazy NOT to surround herself with fabulous-looking guys who are quick to tell her she looks marvelous, but…” And I started thinking, hmmmm, I don’t get told I look “marvelous” all the time. Hey man, I’m being cheated out of romance AND compliments! 🙂

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Woo Hoo!

winning decision Yay, just got a belated Christmas present yesterday in the form of an appellate decision. I won a case! I know it’s probably odd to hear a lawyer all excited about a win, but at the appellate level, criminal attorneys so rarely do. There’s currently a one-percent reversal rate in the First Department (that’s Manhattan and the Bronx), and a big whopping two-percent reversal rate in the Second (Brooklyn, Queens, and Staten Island). So, on average, NYC appellate PDs basically have a one-and-a-half percent chance of prevailing for their clients. Which can be hard if you’re like me and feel a lot for your clients. Anyway, I managed to convince the Court that my guy was unfairly bullied into waiving his right to a trial by jury (and, instead, letting the judge alone determine his guilt). The People will probably appeal to the highest court in NY — the Court of Appeals. So I’ll have to be ready to respond and defend if they do. Anyway, it was exciting.

I think perhaps now I deserve a … trip to D.C. … ha ha!

Also, regarding belated Christmas gifts: how beautiful is this?!