Dancing with the Diva

Yesterday I got to have a fun adventure. I went to see my niece, the Diva’s, dance competition in Ogden. I’ve never been to one before and ever since I heard about it I wanted to go. So I did.

I don’t know why, but I always expect Ogden to be closer to where I live than it really is. But it’s an hour drive to get there. I hopped in the car and started making my merry way down the freeway. With sunshiny skies, good tunes and, I must confess, a phone call with my brother, the time flew by until I arrived.

Ogden High School, where the competition was being held, was super crowded with parents, dancers, cheerleaders and spectators like me. I found a place to park and then headed into the school to check things out. It took a little effort, but I finally found my sister and we settled in for a nice chat while we waited for the Diva’s numbers to begin. We came at a perfect time when there was about a 20-minute break, so we got some quality visiting in before the dances started again.

I have to say that I very much enjoyed myself. I always wanted to be a dancer when I was younger but never got to take dance lessons. So I was living what I wished had happened through these girls. It sounds weird, but it was fun. I enjoyed watching these girls perform, seeing how much they loved it and observing their talent. Of course some teams and some numbers were better than others, but on the whole it was fantastic!

Apparently the Diva had a difficult morning, but by the time her team performed, she was all settled down. Dance has been a big part of her life since she was three, and I can see how much she loves it. Of course I captured her dances on film, but with the lighting in the auditorium I couldn’t use my flash, so most of them didn’t come out so well. Dang it! Enjoy imagining how great she looked in these pictures though.

Okay, this isn’t my niece’s team, but it’s another group from her studio. This kid in the green was one of only a few boys who performed, and let me tell you, he is a fantastic dancer!! His hip-hop routine was amazing, and I thought he blew some of the girls on his team out of the water because he was that good. I couldn’t resist taking a picture.

Here’s the proud dancer after the competition with her mom and then with me. She did a fantastic job.

Remembering the Titanic

Okay, so this weekend I had a little blast from the past when I watched the 1997 movie Titanic, in honor of the 100th anniversary of the sinking this weekend. Before I launch into my revelations about the movie, I want to take a minute to talk about the meaning behind the tragedy.

I can’t get over how many people lost their lives in that tragedy, and I know that’s what makes it such a memorable event. Of the 2,200 people on board only about 700 were saved, 700! That means 1,500 people died that cold night in the Atlantic. Several factors could have decreased that number, from a planned lifeboat drill on the day of the sinking which was mysteriously cancelled to the Californian not responding to the distress rockets to the lifeboats not being launched full and not coming back to help those in the water until it was too late.

I suppose these are all part of the reason this is as terrible of a tragedy as it was. And because of it, safety practices have improved, they’re now required to have enough lifeboats for everyone on board, and wireless operators are on duty 24/7. It sad that it takes a tragedy sometimes for us to see where the holes in a system are, but that is the way it is I suppose.

I dedicate this post in honor of the people who lost their lives sailing on the maiden voyage of the supposed “Ship of Dreams” which left Liverpool, never to be seen again. It makes me sad to think about it, even though I know it happened a long time ago.

Getting all settled in

So I have wonderful news: I’m officially finished moving and am now getting settled into my new place. Wa-hoo! I’m steadily getting rid of my room full of boxes.

This weekend I made great progress, and I’m happy to report that 90 percent of the boxes are gone. And my walls are no longer bare! In fact, I’m kind of proud of the decorations I have up now. If I hadn’t left my beloved camera at my sister’s house two weeks ago, I would take pictures to post here. However, keep watching because I may soon put some up once I get it back.

As I’ve been putting up my wall decorations (and I am well aware I have a lot), I’ve been thinking about the reasons why I hate bare walls so much. Here’s what I decided. First of all, I have a need to make my mark on a space to make it mine. I do that with my desk at work , and I especially need to do it at home. I suppose it’s my way of taking ownership of my space, and for whatever reason, that’s something I value.

The second reason is because I like to surround myself with memories. I love to remember happy times, significant times, trips I’ve taken and people who’ve been important in my life. The way I do that is by putting up lots of pictures, many of which I’ve taken myself. I’m not the queen of pictures for nothing. Some people would call it excessive and perhaps it is, but it makes me happy and that’s what matters most to me anyway.

Just in case you’re wondering, I have two new roommates, and they are seriously wonderful! They have made this transition very easy for all involved, and I feel happy and hopeful about my future here. We were talking today and I told them that I’ve only been living here a week, but I feel like it’s been longer than that because I feel so comfortable already. A small miracle with the experiences I’ve had in recent years, but a blessing I very much appreciate.

I had to wait for the right opportunity to come, and now that it’s here, I couldn’t be more grateful.

Two things I hate (but for a good cause)

So this week (and the last couple of weeks really), I’ve been caught up in preparing for my new adventure: a change in living situation. As a result of this decision — which I assure you 100 percent is the right choice — I’ve had to do two things I dislike. Move and ask for help to do so.

It’s only been a year and a half since the last time I moved, but as I’ve been preparing it’s come back to me why I dislike it so much. I just really like to be settled and comfortable. I don’t enjoy sorting through all of my things (it always shocks me just how much I’ve acquired in a relatively short span of time living somewhere), figuring out what to get rid of, gathering up boxes, filling said boxes and then carting them off to the new place, wherever it may be.

Yes, I’m whining and I know it. Sorry! In the time when I haven’t been busy with other things, I’ve pretty much spent the rest of it packing or sorting, or feeling like I should be if I’m not. Hallelujah tonight when my hard work paid off!

This time I decided to break my move up into two parts to make it a little more bearable. I gathered up some great friends and hauled the majority of my stuff to the new place tonight. Most of what’s left is my furniture, and I have some friends lined up to help me move it on Saturday.

Which brings me to my second point of this post: asking for help. It’s really hard for me to do. Call it a pride thing or anything else, but it’s just difficult. It’s silly since I’m always perfectly willing to help someone else if the situation were reversed. But, since this is an important choice for me, I gritted my teeth and reached out for help this week, and I’ve been rewarded with plenty of wonderful helpers.

See, it really isn’t so bad after all. As I mentioned, this is the right decision for me, and I’m excited to try something new.