Backpacking & Writing through New York City!

Backpacking through New York City!  

After finishing a third summer in Sun Valley, Idaho, I am back to the backpacking lifestyle.  However, I am staying domestic this time.  And with an actually backpack.

Instead of touring around Europe with my suitcase* (like I have done these past two years,) I will be a pinball for the next few months, bouncing around friend’s unoccupied beds, couches, and floors, in various east coast locations, keeping the backpack Brent has leant me close by.

At some point during the summer I signed up for three writing classes-- a grammar class, humor class, and memoir class--in New York City.  So, that is what I am doing (in addition to some skating shows) starting, tonight!

Apparently my goal is to write a grammatically-correct, humorous, memoir.

And truth be told, that kinda is my goal, but it took me a bit to admit this.  I feel like saying you want to write a memoir is like saying you think your life is a big deal.  To be clear, I don’t think my life is a big deal.  But, I also realize you didn’t think that I thought that, so we are probably all on the same page.  Plus, I didn’t say I want to publish a memoir, just that I want to write one, which I think is A OK.

Also, if you or I did think my life was a big deal, I’d be writing an autobiography.  

People would be like, “How many bananas did you eat for breakfast to become a, technically, three-time Olympic alternate?”

And then I would have to address all these things in my autobiography.  And it would all be pretty tedious and boring.

So, to my great fortune--and I swear I say this sincerely-- I am no Michael Phelps (though I would LOVE to eat that many pancakes for breakfast!) So, I can write whatever silly things I want.  Unless, that is, you have some suggestions or requests?

Let me know.

*Full disclosure, I do still have my suitcase, which resides in a friend’s closet in the West Village (thanks Andrew) alongside some sparkly skating costumes (your welcome Andrew.)

Help Me Get Married!

I never have and never will be able to write about anything political, for two reasons:  

First, I do not understand politics. I would have better luck writing about ice skating in a foreign language.  

Second, and 100% related, my brain is very small.

However, sometimes political issues or events will trigger my small brain, which mainly thinks about me-related things and tonight the passing of North Carolina’s Amendment 1 has done that.

I always say that I am missing some sort of gene, the “I want to get married” gene, because I just don’t have the desire to get married.

I was told I would want to get married when I met the right person.  This is false.  I have met the right person.

Also, I have almost zero fear of commitment.  Because of skating, that is one of the few things I do well.  I can commit.

And here is the truth, missing gene or not:

I want to want to get married.

All I need is someone to talk me into it.    

Here is my obstacle:

I have an aversion to exclusivity.  I typically end up on the losing side of that coin.  And right now, marriage seems to be an ever increasing exclusive club.

And what is crazy is that I can totally join the club.  Here is something I do not have to qualify for (unlike, say, the Olympics) or attend school to do (unlike being in any high school club) or even have a hint of a butt to be in (unlike getting inducted into the “a boy tried to grab my butt at the middle school dance” club.)

I don’t even have to prove religious dedication or ability to procreate, though these seem to be essential to the club.

I just lucked out that my parts are different from my boyfriend’s parts.  

Luck.  

Luck is my “get into marriage free” card.  A card I just made up that this exclusive club just might use (but pretty sure they don’t because I know a lot of married people, including my parents, and I feel like something like that would be up on the fridge.)

So, what do I do?

Do I take my luck and just figure I am due some good luck at some point, like, “Hey! I didn’t win the one lotto I played, so I am owed this!”

Do I just shrug my shoulders and point at a gay friend’s crotch and say, “Tough luck. By the way, I am registered at Crate & Barrel.”

Seriously, what do I do?

I have all the makings for a marriage.  I have the desire to spend the rest of my life with a certain someone, I have the plan to, I have good commitment skills, and, I got luck.

So, what do I do?

LAST DAY OF TOUR!

You guys, the time has come!  TOMORROW IS THE LAST DAY OF TOUR!

Crazy, huh?

There is a giddiness and sadness amongst the cast and crew.  And although I have been honest about my struggles throughout this experience, I know I will get sentimental when the music begins for the very last show.

I will say, “This is the last time I will ever put this purple flower in my hair.”

“This is the last time I will look at Andre on this step.”

“This is the last time I will smile at Michael right here (our NEW goodie!)”

“This is the last time I will do the running-man in this snake outfit.”

And when I do this enough, it opens up the door for all sorts of sentimental feelings.  In fact, some may be more than sentimental; some may be just plain irrational.  I might actually say, “Boy I sure do hope I get to do the running-man again in a snake outfit because, if not, I think I am really going to miss it!”  That is how sentimental I can get.

It reminds me a lot of my last day of high school.  I found myself surprised by my sentimentality when this day came.  I didn’t enjoy high school much nor was around much for it (Back story:  I went to high school for two years, then moved to Texas to skate with an ice-dance partner.  When that partnership ended, I moved back home and went to school for the last half of my senior year) Yet on the last day, there I was getting teary-eyed, wondering if I would ever see my teachers or classmates again.  

Funny enough, I did get a good does of reality too, that last day of school.  In my sentimental state, I gave some boy, who I think I thought was a close friend, my yearbook to sign.

He wrote, “Have fun in Texas.”

Hmmm.  Apparently we hadn’t caught up since I moved back home from Texas (hence the being at school and all.)

Point is, sometimes my sentimental ways keeps me from seeing things clearly.

So, here is my clear-thinking going into the closing of this tour:

Yes, there comes some sadness in the ending of a chapter.  But what is pretty cool is to realize that you even created a chapter in the first place...good, bad, or something in between.

Because I think that is what makes for a great life story-- one that has lots of different chapters.

And I am excited about whatever chapter is next.  

Let’s get it started.

What I've Been Up To

I think this is what the kids call an "epic fail."  I have completely failed at writing once a week.  And just towards the end of tour!  Grrrrrrr....

But conveniently and simultaneously, I am trying not to care about things too much.  I told Brent that I was going to incorporate that expression "oopsies" into my vocabulary more.

So, oopsies!

And also in my lame defense, I have been giving this travel thing hell.

First, between Dresden and Berlin, I took a side trip to Prague with Michael and Brent.

Where I was happy that I don't eat meat....

And thankful for the invention of the watch......

And grateful for the beautiful blue sky that made for the perfect backdrop....

Then we spent three weeks in Berlin.

Highlights include:

Renting bikes with Charlene, Kathrin, and company....

Riding to the East Side Gallery....

Which is a remaining stretch of the Berlin wall and has about 106 paintings from artists all over the world.  Some of my favorites were this.....

And this.....

Some were beautifully powerful....

Some were incredibly inspiring....

And some were inspiring for second year roommates (notice my face)....

Going inside the Berliner Dom....

And on top of it....

Visiting the Tacheles.....

And observing how these little German kids played....

Then we cruised on over to Oslo, Norway.  On a ship....

And took in the wide open space....

As well as the city of Oslo....

And the waves of the sea (that made us keep low to the ground)

Now we are in Kiel, a maritime center of Germany.

The sun is out, the seagulls are too, and today we have just one show, which is the best number of shows to have besides zero.

And after today, there are....drum roll....7 shows to go!

I guess time does fly when you're, I'll admit it, having fun ;)

In the “How to Blog” online writing class I took this past summer, I learned that blogs should have an angle, they should be specific.  Like “I am a single parent in New York City and here are my struggles,” or “I am a motorcycle enthusiast traveling the United States and here are my tales.”

I feel like I started with this intention; last year I was an “I am a fresh-off-competition ice skater touring with a professional skating show through Europe and here are my silly adventures.”

But now, round two, I realize, I ain’t got no angle!  

I can’t figure out if my main goal here is playing travel writer or working out some psychoanalytical stuff.

And truth be told, they are both kind of fun.

Because I didn’t fall head over heels for this dealio last year, I waver between working through my feelings about this experience and just turning my attention towards the traveling aspect of the job.

You may have noticed.

And I am not sure that will change.  It was just an observation.  And a good set up for the following...

As far as the travel aspect goes, I will say that Dresden is place to see.  And this can be backed-up by a recent National Geographic article: http://travel.nationalgeographic.com/travel/best-trips-2012/

It is a beautiful town, as you can see....

With funky areas, like Kunsthof Passage...

And the most beautiful dairy store in the world (I had to take a picture of the bag, because photos are not allowed inside)

On a gorgeous sunny day, the city looks even better....

When you want to know the time, you can check out this bad boy...

And if you never want to be reminded of the time, there is plenty of nightlife too....

                
And for the what-is-going-on-in-my-brain portion of this, I am proud to say that I am feeling optimistic.  Even giddy.

We head to Berlin next and will be there for three weeks.  Then there are just two more cities after that, which strikes me as crazy.  Crazy because it means the following:

Three more openings.

Three more times having to figure out where the #$@% to enter the building.

Three more times setting up our dressing room tables.

Three more times trying to find coffee stand.

Three more ice surface sizes to get used to.

Three more times packing up our dressing room spots, crates, costumes, etc.

And that sounds really manageable.  And it also sounds like it means this:

Three more places to not cry in.

Three more environments to carry out a “no bullsh*t” policy.

Three more venues to try to not worry about what others think.

And three more places to practice handstands!

This city hasn’t been much to write home about.  A lot of buildings look like this:

Or like this:

Which has been a bit of a bummer, because in order to survive this madness here (and not have to deal with too much “bullsh*t” from myself,) I have to find a good balance between resting and saving money and getting out and enjoying the city.

Since there is not much to see or do, I’ve lost my balance this week.  And it doesn’t feel good.  

It feels a little like a hangover.  Or an upset stomach.  I haven’t decided.

The one saving grace this city has been a small record store I found a few blocks from the hotel.

Just as I had been thinking about my resolution to buy records instead of CDs, I walked right past this store.  At first I decided not to go in, because it seems a bit unnecessary to start collecting records while essentially backpacking through Europe.

But then I changed my mind.  And walked back. 

Inside I met Andreas, who seemed to be the sole owner/worker of the store.  He mentioned that he was shipping a record to Virginia, an East German print of a Whitney Houston album (still can’t believe it.)

I was fascinated by this special East German something he was talking about.  Andreas explained that East Germany had their own special label, called AMIGA.  The albums usually involve simpler designs, because there wasn’t enough money to have lots of different colored inks, and the prices listed on the albums are listed in East German marks.

I thought this was way too cool, so I bought another copy of the Whitney Houston album he was shipping (still heartbroken) and a very simple-looking Beatles album.

Then I went back the next day and bought a Madonna album, Bruce Springsteen album and an album by The Police.  

And Andreas threw in a bonus album by an East German band called Puhdys, but one where they sing in English.  Thoughtful!

And there you have it.  My Zwickau highlight.

Goodbye Zwickau.  Dresden, you're up next!

Goal Assessment. Warning, there is cursing.

I had set some goals for myself this tour and I think it is time to check in with them.

First, I had wanted to blog once I week.  And, eh, I haven’t strayed too too far from that.  Although it hasn’t always been once a week, it has honestly been more often than I expected.  It has also been messier and sometimes haphazard.  But my goal wasn’t to write a better blog, so let’s not focus on mere details.

I also swore to never check to see if my blades were dull until I started sliding around on the ice a whole bunch.  And yeah, I now pretty much wait until things feel really bad or my butt makes contact with the ice to consider getting my skates sharpened. 

My hand-standing goal seems to be coming along well. I can get into one on my first try, but I am still too scared to try it without the wall for balance. I think it’s time to confer with coach Jane about the next step.

As far as not crying on the job goes, I am proud to say that I was put to the test yesterday, and passed with flying colors.  Good thing my goal isn’t to “not act like a little baby at work” because that I would have failed at that miserably.

Also, I had stated that I wanted to find a balance between hanging out with people and spending time alone.  I think I’ve done a pretty good job at that.

But that leads me to my big super hard challenging goal, which is the not worrying about if people like me goal.  That one is driving me nuts.

We are at the half-way point in tour and it is this point that turns everyone crazy, myself included.

The lack of balance between this life and any other life you’d like to have co-exist makes you forget who you were before this tour train left the station.  You kind of forget what makes you a whole person, and instead you become a weird imitation of yourself, who wears entirely too much make-up.

For me, my crazy manifests in this over-analyzed concern of what others think about me.  I know! So self-centered!  There is about one person here who probably truly doesn’t like me, other people who may not like me for no good reason, and a WHOLE BUNCH of people who don’t ever think about me.

And I have an experiment for you.  Find one person in your daily life and decide that they don’t like you.  Then watch what happens.

Any silence between you and that person means something.  

If that person does or doesn’t make eye contact with you in the hall means something.

And if that person does or doesn’t sit next to you to eat breakfast or ride the bus means something.

And all this meaning, which was made up in your head, adds up to one big fake concern.

And this is how I make myself crazy.  

Luckily, this year, I understand that this happens.  I become crazy; it is par for the course.  But I also get that while I turn crazy, I also have my sanity, which I know doesn’t make a lot of sense, but hold on...

You see, you have two different selves working at once. Your emotional self is the one that turns crazy, like would happen in any good reality TV show, but your rational self acknowledges that this is happening and tries its best to keep the crazy in check.  It says, “Hey buddy, be cool.  No need for nonsense.”

It reminds me of my favorite moment in the “Winnebago Man” youtude video (a video of a man clearly frustrated while taping some promo stuff at work.)  

Jack Rebney is basically cursing the entire video, but offers this gem of a line while doing it:

“Listen, I gotta give a clue here now.  I don’t want anymore bullshit anytime during the day, from anyone, and that includes me.”

Which also reminds me of how one of our cast members said today, “I need to put myself in a time out.” 

Ahhhhh. At least we can recognize when we start going down this foolish path.  And admitting is the first step, right?!

So, I will now head to my time-out and try my best to enforce a “no bullshit” from myself policy.

Let’s hope I can stay there for 7 more weeks. ;)

Things I Learned in San Jose

Happy Super Bowl Sunday.  I will hopefully catch some of this game I don’t understand (football is so confusing!) in an Irish pub somewhere here in Munich.

Speaking of confusing sports, I was lucky enough to work and watch the 2012 U.S. Figure Skating Championships in San Jose, California.

Things I learned during my week in San Jose:

Ice skating is fun to watch.

There is not one cell in my body that wishes I were still competing.

I can say the above because I still get to skate and perform a lot.  I am very grateful for that.

Speaking of which, Brent and I should be really proud that we still skate together, even if we don’t like each other much (just kidding Brent.)

Also, I probably don’t wish I were competing because everyone is so damn good.  I know I’d get my booty kicked.

In certain environments, old habits must be hard to break because although I was not competing, I was still very critical of myself (see below.)

I have not mastered the English language.  Complete sentences are still a struggle.

While someone is having what seems to be their most important moment in their life on the ice, someone else is selling popcorn.

And, here is something else:

After watching all the wonderful skating in San Jose, I found myself really inspired. I now want to go home, jump on some sequin-free ice, and work on my skating skills...and my speed, flexibility, some creative lifts, and maybe even some fast twizzles.

I would describe all the skaters who made me feel this way as “inspiring," because, obviously, their skating is what makes me feel inspired.

Then I think about Jeremy Abbott. 

And I realize I wouldn’t describe Jeremy’s skating as “inspiring.”  He might be inspiring as a person, but not his skating.

This is what his skating is to me: devastating.

Watching Jeremy skate does not motivate me to become a better skater.  Instead, I want to throw my skates in the garbage and write apology letters to anyone who has seen me skate, for I have greatly wasted their time.

Because while watching him skate (and I am talking about the way he moves on the ice here) you realize that what you are watching is the closest thing to organic perfection you might ever see.

It is the level beyond the level beyond inspiring.  It’s from some other universe.  It cannot be taught or learned, it is completely natural, and it is what we all wish we had, which is why it is so crushing.

I don’t say this to make Jeremy feel bad (I would never!) but more to put into words this thing I just realized, that somewhere far beyond the land of inspiration lies the land of devastation.

Plus, we need the Jeremy Abbotts of the world to help put us in our place, which is standing, in awe, and drooling just a little...which isn’t a bad place to be ;)

Vienna. Part Two.

Vienna, part two.

Brent and I are leaving Vienna, broke and exhausted.

I think we did Vienna right.

After my family and friends left, I was determined to keep the bar of activity level right where they had left it, which was high.  

I thought, "Hey, I will pretend I am one of those professional travel show hosts.  I will go around and try different things, see different sights, and find the cool local spots, all in a matter of days, even hours." Easy.

And after one week of this, two things dawned on me.

First, these professional travel guides probably don’t do it solely on their own dime.

And second, they probably don’t also do an ice skating show or two each day.

Nonetheless, it was worth it.  Very worth it.

So, here is a run down of what was accomplished in Vienna, week 2.

-The Rene Magritte exhibit at the Albertina.

Beautiful steps outside

Thought-provoking art inside.

-The Klimt/Hoffman exhibit at the Belvedere.

-Pilobolus “Shadowland” performance at the Museumquairters.

-Phil.  Again.  And then again.  Yes, it is that good.  Try the falafel.

-Cafe di Castello.  Again.  This time for breakfast (try the egg toast with green beans and pistachios) and to leave a little note for Michael in this book:

See, we know he will miss us this week and need something to cheer him up.

-Dancing at the swanky Volksgarten.  But not so swanky that they wouldn’t let me in wearing Vans (it was a 12 euro cover, so I guess beggars--them-- couldn’t really be footwear choosers.)

-Prater.  The Coney Island of Vienna.

-Onyx bar.  A unique and surprisingly beautiful view of the St. Stephan’s church roof.

-MAK cafe.  Best place to recycle an old bottle.  Notice the chandelier:

-Dots experimental sushi.

-Vestibul restaurant.  For fancy desserts and very friendly service.  I got the chef’s autograph!

-Common People clothing store in the 7th district.  For common people, like myself and Kathrin.

-Klein’s cafe.  Small.  Good food.  Good music.  Feels like an established old school cafe for the less traditional.

A Klein’s menu.  Notice the stack of CDs in the background.

-Yellow restaurant.  Exceptional asian food across from the Westbanhof.

-And, because we just had to....the Eistraum in front of the Rathaus.  SO fun and absolutely one of the top then things to do in Vienna.

When I was doing my "European stroll," which is what I call getting lost while listening to some music, I came across this graffiti:

Three aliens, or some other outer space creatures and the words "Welcome...Life."  Either they are saying "welcome, life forms" or "Welcome Life!"  Definitely the former makes sense, but I decided to go with the latter.  I decided to welcome life this past week.  And it was awesome.

Now, as we fly from Vienna to San Jose for the U.S. Championships (woo woo) I have a new motto:

                Welcome........

Nap