Tuesday, January 31, 2012

It's a wonder I've lived as long as I have...

I acknowledge the fact that I haven't posted lately. Mostly because I've been spending a bunch of time trying to get this URL business straightened out. Behind the scenes stuff that means nothing to you guys, but everything to me.

It's not yet straightened out. Which may be partially because I can't do what I want to do, but it also may be that I can't do what I want to do because I'm borderline retarded.

Seriously. I think it's beginning to become a bit of a problem. The other day I was walking to my car; I was deep in thought about the convoluted directions I gave Gorm in order to get to my house and trying to figure out a strategy to beat him there.

A woman was crossing the street and walking towards me; I started crossing the street and as I stepped out in front of a parked car the horn honked. I gasped audibly and may or may not have brought my hand up to my chest with a scared look on my face.

The woman burst out laughing and asked if she'd "scared the shit" out of me. I sheepishly replied with a shaky "Yeah..." followed by nervous laughter. She apologized for being so intimidating and we went our separate ways.

Down the road, as I was getting into my car, I pictured what it must have looked like to spectators. I also considered that I obviously don't have ninja-like reflexes.

Maybe I'll look into self defense classes. And hide-your-feelings-classes. And stop-being-a-retard-classes. I've got a lot of learning ahead of me. First up, I gotta figure out where these classes are offered. I might need help on this one, guys.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

No fixed address

Until now, of course!

So you may be wondering what prompted this final move. Well, I recently purchased a domain (http://www.thatwhitegirls.com/) and was having a hard time figuring out how to make it my blog. The internet is a strange place. Since I don't know HTML and have little to no interest in learning how to build a website from scratch, I started looking at other blogs that I read.

All the blogs that have their own domain had something in common. At the bottom of the screen it said "Powered by Blogger". So, I created a blogger account and it turned out to be super easy to use blogger to make my domain useful. Within a few clicks, I had my banner and basic template uploaded on the site.

Always loyal, I decided to poke around wordpress to see if I could make it happen using that avenue. But they wanted me to pay money to have my domain 'mapped' and export my blog and redirect my site, and, and, and. Always frugal, I decided not to pay for something when I can get it for free.

So I set up my own redirect (a simple: hey you, go here now!) and had blogger do the mapping of my domain and I exported and imported the contents all by myself. For Free!! High tech? No. Functional? Yes. After all, we all made the switch last time without a hitch, so we can do it again.

Now, comes the work of getting used to blogger when I was so used to wordpress and getting my new blog address recognized in Google once again. But, I'm sure it'll all be worth it to have my own domain.

Friday, January 27, 2012

Where's Waldo?

I keep swearing to myself that I will write a post that does not involve dancing. It's hard because it's all I think about lately. That's why I haven't posted anything. So, I'm left with writing about random things that have happened to me lately. I know how much you love those.

I got a new camera. I'm really fricken pleased with it, even though I haven't had much of a chance to really test it out. I'm waiting on a case before I start taking it out of the house. With this new camera, I've been reminded about how much there is to know about photography and how I don't know about any of it. Oh well, such is life, good-a-time as any to start learning.

I recently bought a new top that looks good... until I start moving. Then the neck line starts moving up until the part that's supposed to cover my boobs is choking me. I decided that I was going to fix this problem by adding in an elastic band to try and prevent the upward migration. Three hours later, I was reminded that I'm not very good at sewing. Luckily, I'm very good at undoing sewing, so I'm left with the top as it was when I bought it... well, with a few thousand extra holes of course.

I had my brother over today; we went out for lunch and spent several hours catching up. Which was really nice; it's been awhile since we've been able to do that. The first thing he does when he walked in the door was say "I have something for you" and then he dropped three packages of 'ResoraLAX' onto my coffee table 'just in case'. Um. Thanks.

I'm not that into Christmas decorating, but decided to go all out** this year, since I was having people over for dinner. It's almost February and my decorations are still up. In my defense, I'm not turning them on anymore.

Several months ago, I gave myself a goal to write 600 word posts, four days a week. I went full-on-strong for the first six weeks or so and since then have petered out. I no longer count words and don't post nearly four times a week. So in an effort to not drop the ball, I'm changing my goal post to twice a week and however many words I want.

This will hopefully limit the amount of posts like this one that I put up. Fear not, they will still exist. I'm not changing my personality after all. It might be a good idea to post consistently on certain days, but it also might lead to giant failure on my part, again. So, let's say I'm going to post on Sundays and Wednesdays and if I don't, I'll do it some other day, I swear.

I think that's about all I got for this random post. I'm sure I could come up with something else to say, but it wouldn't be nearly as interesting as writing about cameras, clothes or constipation medication.

Until next time... See ya folks!


**"All out" includes a 3ft Christmas tree, two sets of lights, a stocking and a Santa hat.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Buenos Nachos

I've officially been dancing Salsa for three weeks now; last night I went to the Salsa club for the third time. I'm by no means good, but I think I'm getting better. One guy even told me that I was a good dancer... and I don't even think he was drunk.

At first, I was seriously awkward and uncoordinated. As opposed to now, when I'm only moderately so. I didn't know what I was doing and, even to me, it felt wrong.

Heather - dancing - wrong

But, every so often, I would get a partner that was less serious and would just let me have fun, even if I wasn't technically dancing Salsa anymore. Basically, he would just turn me a lot and that would make me happy.

Heather - dancing - fun

Since my first time out, I've learned the steps and have less of a hard time keeping up. I actually know what I'm supposed to be doing, even if I don't always do it.

I've also learned how to properly turn, instead of just shuffling clockwise, and I've learned the "cross body lead". That's when you switch places with your partner. Up until last night, I had no idea what my partner was trying to get me to do when he led me into this move. Now I've got it, and I really enjoy it.

Despite the fact that I'm learning the moves and understanding the cues from my partner, I still have a lot of areas to work on (obviously, I've only been doing it for three weeks!), but some of them are very, very basic.

For instance, I have a habit of putting my left hand on the bicep of my partner. (It should be on their shoulder, or on their back). I usually have this problem with partners that are significantly taller than me. I guess I'm lazy and don't want to hold my arm up. I've been corrected numerous times by numerous partners, but still continue to make the mistake.

Last night, I was danced with this guy. A lot, probably a dozen times. He's a very good dancer and could obviously tell that I was just learning, but he seemed to like helping me get better. Good dancers will either do this (show you things, give you pointers etc) or they beat it and will never ask you to dance. Needless to say, I was very thankful that he asked me to dance again and again.

But he was significantly taller than me, so my bad habit kept cropping up. The first few times, he physically corrected me by putting my hand where it should be, but that takes time and takes away from the dance. So, after awhile, he started giving me physical cues to remind me to correct my posture: he would pat my back twice.

The first couple times, I didn't catch on, so he would pat my back harder and look down at my hand.


After that, every time I felt the gentle reminder, my hand would shoot up to the correct position and he would nod approvingly.

Much better

He left that night by giving me the name of an instructor that is very good (Giovanni); he asked me for my email address so he can send me the information/link for the drop in lesson.

He said that he was also thinking of going to the Sunday lesson. I questioned his reasons for wanting to take a beginner lesson (since obviously he doesn't need it); he said "just for practice". I'm not sure if he was talking about my practice or his. Regardless, I might have found someone that is willing to take me under their wing.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Down Syndrome

I always have a hard time hitting publish for posts like these. But it's something I've been thinking about lately and I drew pictures and everything, so here it goes...

Depression is a bitch. It seems like it affects everyone at one point or another. Some people are clinically depressed and others just get a bout of it every so often.

I consider myself a pretty upbeat person, despite that, I struggled with depression a couple of months ago. Interestingly enough, I didn't realize what I was struggling with until I got out of it. That's probably often the case with rookies, such as myself.

A few months ago, I was super busy with school, spending time with family and friends and just generally maintaining a social life; I had no time for myself whatsoever. When school ended, I crashed.

Back to bed

At first, I thought I was just being lazy. I would spend entire weekends in bed; not because I was sick, I just had no drive to do anything. I wasn't seeing my friends, I wasn't calling anybody, I would leave the house only if someone dragged me kicking and screaming out of my comfy little rut.


This laziness quickly took over the work week and I found myself doing nothing 7 days a week. I thought I was burnt out, I thought I needed some time to regroup. After a month, I started questioning what was wrong with me.


I started forcing myself to go out and do things, to not go to bed as soon as I got home at night and to leave my house (and my bed) on weekends.

Thats it

At first, I went through this schizophrenic battle every weekend, but eventually, I looked forward to going out and doing things. I kept up with it and soon enough I was back to my regular self. It was at that point that I realized I had been depressed.

Which has got me thinking about depression in general; a few people in my life, including my brother, struggle with it on a daily basis. My bout of depression was measured in weeks; my brother's depression is measured in years. I got out of my funk by giving myself a pep talk and making myself go out and do things. Danny is on medication and sees a psychologist; something tells me his depression is a bit more complex.

I could have used someone to give me a kick in the pants in order to get me out of my rut. But I think I'll get kicked to the curb if I become that person for my brother. He'll likely think I'm harping on him and no one wants to be around that. Can you blame them?

Where's the happy medium? How much is too much and how much is not enough? How do you know if you're making a difference, or making them distance themselves from you?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Sometimes I shouldn't be allowed to leave the house...

Sometimes I surprise even myself about how ridiculous my life can be. Usually, nothing too crazy happens, but every so often, weird stuff happens. Stuff that only ever happens to me. This New Years Eve was no exception.

By NYE standards, my night was pretty tame. I went to my dad's place, had a few drinks and was in bed by 4am. Even though I started drinking on an empty stomach and even though I didn't make a point to drink copious amounts of water, I didn't get completely plowed and I woke up feeling fine, albeit a bit tired.

The next morning, I'm gathering up my gear and putting everything by the door so it's all in once place when I leave. As I'm putting everything downstairs, I look for my shoes; they're not there but I knew they were last night.

My dad has a shithead of a dog that likes to take shoes from the door and chew on them upstairs. But it's weird even for Dusty to take both shoes; he's usually content with destroying only one.

As I'm finishing my visit, I keep an eye out for my shoes. I finally find them; by the back door, arranged neatly side-by-side. I found it strange; I didn't think I'd gone out the back door and Dusty doesn't leave anything neatly side-by-side.

Regardless, I put on my shoes and left. On the drive home, I started noticing that my shoes were tighter than normal. I decided my feet were swollen; after all, edema is probably a symptom of excessive alcohol consumption.

A couple days later, I went to wear the shoes and remembered the ride home New Year's Day. I thought to myself "I wonder if the swelling has gone down yet", kind of chuckling to myself at the ludicrousness of that thought.

I slipped on the shoes and they didn't fit. What the....?

As I kick off one of the shoes, it flips over and reveals the size of the shoe. A whopping 2 sizes* smaller than the ones I bought. Mother Fucker. I guess I shop at the same store as someone else at the party. I guess that same person left thinking that their feet had shrunk.

They left while heavily intoxicated; I did not.

And then I had the pleasure of making an embarrassing phone call to Bev to tell her I stole her friend's shoes. :|


*Note - I can't remember what size I bought... it might only be one size, in fact, it probably is only one size, but "whopping 2 sizes" sounds more impressive than "a whole size", so I'm leaving it in there.*

Monday, January 9, 2012

Video [games] killed the radio star

I've come to the conclusion that video games make me a bad person. And not in the fun way.

I don't play them all that often, so when I decide to turn on a game, it starts out innocently enough. I enjoy myself with the running and the jumping and whatnot. I question my reasons for not playing them on a more regular basis.

Theyre fun

Eventually, I start dying; my once-healthy amount of lives start to dwindle and I become more critical of my actions.


I start becoming more and more serious and more and more frustrated (because I keep dying!) . In no time, I'm cursing at the TV (yes, it's the TV's fault) and chastising myself for being a loser.


Jump higher... not that high!

Run faster... wait, slow down!

Okay, calm down... why'd you walk right into him - what's wrong with you!?!?!?

I'm pretty sure my neighbours think I'm insane because, I tell ya, I'm not quiet about it. After awhile, I decide a break is in order; my blood pressure is probably higher than is good for me. I start puttering around the house, but if I need to use any kind of electronic device, I have instant frustration.
Boot up faster, computer! I said.... Internet, is that so hard? What? Do I need to click you four fucking times all of a sudden?

Hello?? I said eject. Why aren't you ejecting? Just give me the movie, blu-ray, why do you want to hold on to it so badly? Are you in love with it?

I pre-heated you like an hour ago... why aren't you hot yet? Oh, get over yourself, oven!!

Once I walk away from the computer/dvd player/oven/my life with frustration seeping out of my pores, I realize I might have a problem. I've become a meaner person; I've become a complete and total rager. It's best that I don't get behind the wheel when I'm like this; I'm liable to murder someone.

Luckily I only have two more worlds of Super Mario Brothers to get through.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Happy New Year!

I know I haven't posted all year; I just wanted to let you know that I am in fact aware of it. Since my last post Christmas and New Year's have come and gone. It's now 2012 and the start of another year.

I'm not really into New Year's resolutions; I think that they are mostly a recipe for failure. But I do have things I would like to do; it's just that they're not much different than the things I wanted to do last month. But, sometimes a fresh start is enough to give you the kick in the pants you need to actually start doing things.

One of the things I wanted to do was to get more active again. I feel like I've become a bit of a slug over the past few months and want to get back into the routine of going out and doing things again.

And I have. Over the past couple months, I've started going out for walks; I go out for live music nights; I even went ice skating for the first time in months. Like I said, I've starting picking it up over the past month or two, so where does the talk of New Year's resolutions come in?

Well, there's this little pub/restaurant that I go to on a semi-regular basis. And by semi-regular, I mean, pretty much once a week, every week for the past 3 years. You could say I'm a good customer.

Across the street from this place is a dance studio. On my way in and out of my favorite hole in the wall, I see this place. Every time. Being that I lack much to be desired in the body-movement-coordination arena of life, I've always looked longingly towards this studio with a mixture of curiousity and apprehension.

This longing has only grown stronger and over the past year or so I began to seriously consider doing something about my desire to be able to dance without looking like a spastic spider. Then I went to Mexico, where I learned that dancing can be very sexy, when done properly, that is. So over the past two months, my curiousity has nearly overcome my apprehension.

Last week, on January 1st, I was on one of my walks when I walked past the studio. It was closed, but I stopped to peek inside. I noticed that they had a pamphlet on the outside of their door. I grabbed one. Being the new year, they have a New Year's special. I gave it some thought and the next day, I went in and signed up for a salsa class.

The two days later, I was discussing it with someone at work; she said that she was going salsa dancing on Friday and I was welcome to come. That same day, I got an invitation for a 2 hour salsa lesson for Saturday night.

I signed up for the two hour lesson immediately, but I was hesitant to accept the invitation for Friday night; I knew absolutely nothing and wasn't sure if a club was the best place to start. A quick glance at the website showed that they provide an hour long lesson before opening the club for dancing.

It seemed that everything was falling into place. I went out to the club on Friday night and followed it up the next night with another lesson. With two night's of lessons under my belt, I feel much more confident going into my class. I think I'll get much more out of my 8 week class, then if I was a complete newbie.

Now, I'm not the most coordinated person on the planet on a good day. In fact, I can be such a klutz that sometimes walking without falling down takes more of an effort than I'd like to admit.

So, it's safe to say that my dancing skills are somewhat lacking. And that my moves, as of right now, are awkward at best. All things considered, I feel like this is something I can do. I think I can get it. It'll take practice and determination, but those are two things that I am not lacking in my life. Pure determination has gotten me many things.

Coincidently, this falls in line with being more active and going out and doing more things. In fact, after two night's of dancing, I am sore. My feet hurt. My legs, from hip to ankle, hurt. My hips and back hurt. My neck and shoulders hurt. And I feel great.

Happy New Year, Everyone!