Today, I needed this. I was feeling tired, worn out. I still have a modern class to teach, and a ballet class to take.  This is exactly what I needed to persevere. Enjoy.!/video/video.php?v=602685446394&subj=2345710


Greer, this one’s for you!!

girl doing a crunch in a dance room full of girls

Get's those abs ready for the audition, ladies!!!

Last week, I went to my favorite local bookstore, the Book Cellar, looking for inspiration. I have this disease where I wake up and the first thing I do is go to my computer and check my email. I start my day by thinking of all the things I have to do and getting anxious over being able to complete them. For someone who struggles with anxiety, this isn’t the best.

I had a great period this summer where I started my day by reading a book. First it was Hannah Hurnard’s “Hinds Feet on High Places” and then Madeleine L’Engle’s “Walking on Water.” But I finished both of those and went back to my disease-laden ritual of stressing myself out at 7 a.m.

Enter the Book Cellar, which had just gotten a new shipment of inventory, including Julia Cameron’s “Prayers to the Great Creator.” I really shouldn’t have spent $20 on a book, but I did, and I am so glad. The book is filled with morning sized readings on creativity and spirituality. Here’s what I read this morning:

You have an anxious heart. Your fears overshadow your dreams. Your stories frighten you. You put me to one side, striving to act strong and brave, but your solitude undermines you. It is a lie. You are not alone. You are never unpartnered. I am here. I am with you always.

Bring me your anxious heart. Give me your terrors. I will protect your dreams. I know your dreams, for they are my children. Dreams come from God. God has the power to accomplish them. These are not idle words. I can bring you your dreams. Allow me to.

Tell me your sad stories. I see where you have been hurt again. Allow me to defend you. Allow me to shape your story. It can end well. Happiness does not elude me. I hold joy and expectation. I hold hope. Hope is an unmet friend, a source of strength.

You are afraid to hope. You tell yourself that it is wise to be cautious, that caution serves your heart. Be brave with me instead. Allow me to risk while I protect your heart. I am large enough for you to be small. Picture this. I have a pocket above my heart. It is there that I carry you. You are safe. You are provided for. I act on your behalf as you allow me to act. Invite me to be your defender.

Your anxious heart seeks safety. I am the safety you seek. Come home to me. Allow my arms to give you shelter, give you peace.

Way, way better way to start my morning. Even reading it over again now brings me relief.

I hope your day is marked by peace.

January is a fresh start for my reading list. I love to get a ton of books for Christmas (even if I bought them for myself as I did with this one…) and start reading them according to how I’ve rated them in interest. This book was really good. Really sad, but really interesting. It’s about a woman now living in New York  and she gives a detailed look back on her crazy upbringing. Some of things she shares you are like “no way, that couldn’t have happened” or “how are you not so bitter and pissed now?” But she lovingly and genuinly shares things from her life back in Arizona, California, West Virginia, NYC, and the crazy on-the-move situations her family faces.

It’s good to hear stories like this becuase selfishly, it makes me appreciate things about my family and parents more. But also, it reminds me that everyone has a little bit of crazy in them and I’m not the only one with a crazy family.

Maybe you could care less about memoirs, but if you like them, this is a good one. Right now I’m reading “I Was Told There’d Be Cake” and it’s pretty awful. For real, someone is that shallow and selfish? Wouldn’t have believed it…

There is a measure (and it is not small) of hurting – of intentionally performed extraction – of cutting apart that seems to be inherent in healing.  To remove the offensive cancer, to fix, to put back together we sometimes have to take it all apart.  Sometimes we have to take out the deepest stuff – our very marrow – and replace it with new stuff.  Sometimes we have to cut and swipe at the center of it all – our heart – our guts.  It is our only way of moving forward, moving on, moving at all.  Using surgery to make the concept of hurting to heal explicit, I explore the dichotomies between messy and precise, ripped apart and sewn back together, known and mysterious, intimate and clinical.  When we initiate a difficult conversation about a conflict, when the great Whoever says that through our tribulations we are made perfect, when we watch the smallest ones learn to walk by falling down over and over again, we see evidence of how we hurt in our healing – by design, by default but most of all by necessity.  The hurting and the healing are inseparable.  The shocking mess and uncertainty amidst all of the experience and steady moving forward keep us wide-awake and wondering – ever-present in the process.  Perhaps it is so this process does not go un-noticed.  Perhaps it is to keep us awake in our lives.

Big Money Bios


There are a few things I dislike about being a dancer/performer, but ya know, it’s usually not that big of a deal. I can get over it and enjoy the perks of being a dancer. However, bios and headshot….Hate them. I get so stressed out for no reason. At all. It’s not that big of a deal right? Write down a few reasons why are you awesome, take a picture of your face. Not hard. I really just have to laugh at myself sometimes. I just don’t know how to sum up everything I’ve been doing with myself my entire life and make it sound good. I mean, I’ve been dancing my whole life. I’m good at teaching kids. Can’t that be enough? No. You have to really sell yourself in like 6 sentences. That’s also why I’m bad at resumes. I can’t seem to get it together and say I’m awesome because of this, this, and this. And then the headshots… oh geeesh. Dancers and their headshots. You have to have this sultry, confident look that I can’t seem to get on my face. All I can do is smile, the same smile I do when I’m at a party, or at the movies, or talking to someone. I have no “looks”. And I can’t even do the no teeth smile, then I just look weird.

That’s why I love think/dance. We don’t have to worry about stupid, sultry, you want me headshots, nor “I’m too good for you” bios. We say things like “I like cat t-shirts” or “I was once a mine”. Then you can come see us and decide for yourself if we are any good. Because really, we could tell you for 8 pages all the stuff we’ve done and how good at it we are, but still not interest you one bit. And how will you really know if I’m good with kids until you see me in action?

girl smiling upside down

Sultry Headshot

Kimberly Schomburg has been dancing for a freaking long time. She’s also really good with kids. It must be true, because she said it. She can gaurantee you that she loves her cat, has a purse from Brooklyn Industries that was given as a gift from a friend, just ate some Swedish Fish candies, and has been listening to “Jersey Boys” non stop lately. Also, she is only 80 lbs.

Oooooook. Insurance. What a freaking scam.

Today I went to the Doctor. All was well, until I got to Walgreen’s and had to pay $92 for 7 freaking pills. $92! 7 pills! For real? But my Walgreens lady made sure to let me know that my insurance saved me $30 so that’s good. Oh really? Because I just paid $176 this month, as I do every month for insurance. So it’s not really that cool to save $30 on one prescription when I just paid my insurance and then paid my doctor for a visit and then paid Walgreens for 7 pills.

I’m over it. I’m broke! Ok! No more alotments for Urinary Tract Infections. So understand, down there? We are broke!

And if you even think about giving me a yeast infection after taking these antibiotics, hand to God, some heads are going to roll.



So this Christmas was a lot of things for me.  I’ve been thinking about it, and how I’ve been very fortunate to have had a very calm and pleasant upbringing, for the most part.  It isn’t until recently that I’ve had to deal with the more unpleasant things in life.  

Maybe I shouldn’t preface this post in this way, since part of Christmas was great, if not overwhelming.  I have a new kitten, and his name is Oliver.  I have planned to get a kitten for over a year now, and it just hadn’t happened until my brother and sister-in-law stepped in and found this little guy for me.  

So, things I’m learning about Oliver- it is difficult to get him to sit still for a picture, he does not like the amino acid supplement the vet recommended to hopefully prevent respiratory infections and will clamp his mouth shut and try to wriggle away,  he likes to run from under the bed to under the kitchen table to under the couch and back again countless times a day, he HATES being in his carrier in the car (he meowed himself hoarse on our drive from Michigan to Chicago), he likes to play at 4 in the morning, he likes to sleep all sprawled out, and he wants to eat whatever it is you happen to be eating.  He is also very sweet and every day it seems like he belongs with me more and more.

Ladies Only


Welcome to another installment of “our favorite things”.  Today’s topic:  Women’s Workout World (or as we cool kids call it, the W3).

I can haz fytness?

Dancing is a pretty physical endeavor (for the most part – Kim has been known to say “I’m barely moving” at rehearsal, but that’s a story for another day).  And as you can imagine, dancing in itself isn’t usually enough physical training to get your body into the kind of shape it needs to be in to dance your best.  So what’s a dancer to do?  Hit the gym.  Dancers (and think/dancers specifically) take a sort-of sick pride in how much they push their bodies to accomplish.  I’m not talking about a certain look – we are certainly not lithe, wispy little gals.  I’m talking about strength and endurance.  There is a feeling of immense satisfaction when you can walk into a class or rehearsal and know with assurance that your body will be able to do anything you ask it to do (your brain might not be able to make it happen, but at least you know you’re physically capable of it).  So to that end, allow me to introduce you to the gym of (most of) our dreams – the W3.  Here’s what I yelped about it after my first few weeks as a member:

um….. I love this place.  Why?  because it is dirt cheap (more on dirt later) and the classes are the jam.  I walked in to my first class a few days ago, looked at all of the middle-aged ladies and thought “well, at least I will spank this class, but it won’t be challenging.  Bummer.”  So…… are you ready to have your ass kicked by ladies who could be your mom?  Because I was obviously not prepared.  Wow.  Those classes? Are so hard.  And awesome.  I fully love the “hard body” class.

All you have heard about the semi-grossness is true.  Let me just say that there may or may not have been a band-aid on the floor when I took my tour.  There was talk of someone having taken (left?) a dump in one of the showers.  Being the kind of person who is not sicked out too easily (germs? ha!) it doesn’t bother me, but I do bring my own mat to classes, and I wash my hands after for sure.

In addition to the rad classes (which are included in your $20 per month membership!  Yeah!), the vibe in this place is so great.  Just women of all ages (and many wearing what I can only imagine are “play-clothes” from bygone days – i.e. pleated splatter-painted jean skirts with a white sports? bra and sandals for cardio kick boxing class) there to work it out.  Also, hilarious things happen all the time (what can only be described as “free-form” aerobics on the center floor with audible singing to a walk-man).  I love this place and am pumped to experience all that the W3 (yeah, that’s what we call it) has to offer.

Needless to say, I gave it 5 stars.  Neon teal and purple lights that spell “aerobics”?  Check.  Free weights and bar-weights from the 1980s?  Check.  This place has it all.   So for anyone with a new years resolution, $20 and a passion for hilarious fitness, meet me at the W3!  Everyone is welcome and no one is fancy – this more than anything is what I love about my ridiculous gym.

New Year Tunes


One of my holiday break goals was to listen to new music. I feel like I did. I liked most of it. I really liked the new Pheonix Cd. I also got the new Avett Brothers Cd and liked about half of it. But, I’ve been really enjoying this song and it feels like a good New Year tune. So I am posting it.

Gabe Dixon. All Will Be Well.

t/dc tweets

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