Thursday, September 8, 2011

In Hindsight....

Yesterday, I had a bad day. I spent about 4 hours in the studio. Not just any studio. Pole dancing class studio. I had to relieve stress and working out was my only option. I needed to get away from the daily chaos that I continually placed myself in. I did my routine to the same song I was planning to use for the competition that I have been training for the past 3 and a half months. The same competition that I dropped out of 2 weeks ago. Partly because of external problems, partly because I felt I wasn't ready. And the Virgo in me wants nothing less than perfection. But that's not what I came here to talk about. Excuse me while I play this as I write. It is just a beautifully crafted song that always gets me in the zone....





For almost two years now, I have been taking pole dancing classes. It has provided me with a platform of strength training, competition, alternative workout, fun after-work activity, etc. Now, before you say "Hey Christina you trying out to become a stripper?" I want you to hold your tongue and keep reading because that IS NOT what I aimed to do. As in previous blog posts, I explained that I used to run track in high school. I was also involved with ballet. My strength was in track. My heart was in ballet. Track gave me a release for my physical feelings of stress and anger. Ballet gave me a canvas for self-expression and art. It was like when I ran I converted my feelings into competition but when I danced I felt like I lost myself in the music and I drew stories in choreographed movements. How could two things totally unrelated relate to each other? Well... As high school progressed, I dropped out of ballet. I didn't have the body for it. No, I didn't give up. I just didn't have the body type that would allow me to compete on a more intense level. And that is just the reality of that craft. Puberty concluded and I had curves other than the smile on my face. Thanks to dad's black genes they trumped mom's asian ones which caused me to inherit thick thighs. I was tight because I remember how much I've wanted to dance ballet professionally when I was younger. But, hey, no worries. I loved my curvy self. I felt like it gave me an edge to my black-asian image. Like, how many black-asian girls you see with thick thighs? (Ok, let me turn down the volume of my conceit. **Wooossaaaahhhh**) So, in between the demi-plie's and releve's, I decided it was just one of those dreams that I had to let go. It happens. No sense in fighting genetics. That's like a battle you will not win. Lol.


Even though I wrapped that dream up, I decided to focus on track. It became my everything. I can even remember excerpts from my college application essay that talked about how running track changed my life and the parallels I made between the stages you go through in a race on the track and the stages you go through in life. I even compared morals to Gatorade. That's how serious I was. Anyways, three years ago I was told by my orthopaedic doctor that because of my long- and mid-distance training from high school and in college (We did an average of 30+ miles a week >_< ) I developed bad nerves in my lower back, twisted kneecaps, and chondromalacia patella. My heart dropped. It was as if my world just started to disintegrate. I looked at her with the "What the fuck are you trying to say" look on my face. And before you know it, she confirmed my biggest fear.... that I would never be able to compete in running again. It was me giving up my dream before I could even create a map to get there. It. Hurt. But what could I do? I can't correct all three problems and think that I was going to be able to run like I used to. That wasn't feasible. At All. I started gaining weight partly because I was depressed about my running condition, partly because I could never fulfill two of my dreams, and partly because I was confused as to what to do next. This story not as depressing as you think.


WHY THE HELL AM I TELLING THIS STORY? **shakes head** C'mon baby. Keep Reading. Two years ago, I decided to take a pole dancing class. I was bored. I seen an article in a magazine about it and it's what drove me to try pole dancing. I remember doing my first class like "I can do all those moves that those strippers do". And that's where I was wrong. Pole dancing and stripping are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS. In pole dancing, it took cardio training, a million different crunches, pull-ups, and endless push-ups to actually excel and be able to craft a routine. Pole dancing became exactly where I found the medium to fuse the two things that held my sanity together all these years. I had to use the leg, core, and arm strength that I used in track to execute the different moves. Plus, I have the opportunity to use my competitive mind in small competitions. Then, I had to put a STRONG emphasis on flexibility and elegance. Moves had to look fluid as if it was easy to execute. That's where my ballet training came in. 2 years and training at 3 studios (2 in Philly, 1 in NYC) later, I found something that I can compete in despite my irreversible injuires and physically express my feelings. It infuses me with the same euphoria I had when I balanced the two activities in the past. **Insert "Swish" sound here** I'll probably be doing this in the future and trying to elevate my level of flexibility and strength. One day I may even compete in the larger more intense competitions. Don't be surprised. I told you here first.


OK, CHRIS, REALLY. WHAT IS YOUR POINT IN TELLING THIS STORY? Well, I'm glad that you asked. I got three of them. So, listen up.

1. As you have seen through the progression of my story, things happen throughout life. The very things that make us happy and complete us may be obstructed by various challenges. Obstacles that appear before us may seem unconquerable. Permanent roadblocks may show their face and prevent us from achieving our original ideas. Right when you have a plan, fate laughs at you and says *In a Diddy voice* "This. Is. The. Remix. Remix". Although we may get discouraged at first, it is our responsibility to go out and an find alternative solution. Ok. So you think the dream died. But, guess what? Its not the end of the world. Fate might remix your whole situation but, in reality, things happen for a reason. Stop focusing on why it didn't go the way you wanted to initially. I want you to focus on discovering what fate has in store for you. Maybe you don't believe in fate. Well whatever it is, believe in it. Pursue it. Pursue happiness and peace of mind. The only person who can really make you happy is yourself.

2. I've said this before. I've watched women let themselves go (weight-wise). I know its hard. Some have kids, in school, too many jobs, relationships, getting hit by the failing economy, struggling to find yourself in whatever way, etc. Just remember your body needs attention too. Re-discover yourself through fitness. I know its easy to try to be the superhero. But before you save everyone else, remember to save yourself. I don't care if you stay home with those dusty Pilates tapes, P90x, Insanity, etc. Or if you want to be adventurous with Bikram Yoga, salsa, boxing, mixed martial arts, hip hop dance, zumba, or even pole dancing like me. Have some time to look good. You work hard. Why not look good while doing it?

3. Last on the agenda is something that gets on my nerves that I am guilty of doing when I first started. PLEASE DO NOT EQUATE POLE DANCING WITH STRIPPING. THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS. Stripping is where you drop it like its hot on a pole for money to ratchet ass songs like Travis Porter's "Bring It Back". Pole dancing has a whole pole dancing federation with rules and competitions and such. It involves more strength and yoga principles than you will ever imagine to effectively duplicate the moves. I've had the honor to train under known dancers like Karol Helms and Bunni Luv. The women that I train with on a weekly basis are ordinary women. Young women eager to try a new activity, college students, wives, mothers, women in graduate school, women who work in corporate america, nurses, and other professionals. Its really not what you think until you try it. Still don't believe me? Well, here are two videos that I have for you from YouTube (Nuh uh, don't you DARE close out this post. Watch the videos. Trust me on this. You made it this far.)

This first one is my instructor, Bunni Luv's, APFC 2011 competition submission video. It is taken in the very studio I currently train in 3-4 days a week. And I train with her about 2 out of the 4 times I'm at the studio. (If you tryna come out for a class, its Master Jay Moves/Philly Pole Premier at 1520 Samsom Street in Philadelphia, PA. Its cheap and they have classes for men and women. I've conned some people to come with me already lol)



This second one is a video that one of my old instructors told me to look up. Rhiannan Nichole. She is also in the same competition Bunni Luv will be in October. This is her APFC 2011 competition submission video.



Yep. Don't tell me "Oh I can do that". If you don't have any training, chances are, you can't. Some of ya'll can't even do a push-up correctly. BUT, I hope you got a better outlook on things. Till next time....


Sunday, September 4, 2011

Ya'll Need Couth For Christmas....

Before I start this entry, I needed to add music to get into my mode. So, I figured this would be the most appropriate song by one of my favorite artists. "Fuck Me Pumps"- Amy Winehouse (play it while you're reading and trust me you will be like "Oh, now I see why she chose this")





The other night (Friday) began the first weekend of my birthday month. September. I do it big every year. Last year, I partied in 3 different cities in one weekend. The year before that I had a big extravaganza (somehow almost got arrested. Long story in itself. But the most important thing is that I don't have a criminal record, right?). But this year? I'm doing events EACH and EVERY weekend in September. Cities will be determined as I go along but, hey, people take over the whole day. I take over the whole month. BUT I digress from the whole purpose of this entry.




So going back to the other night, I seen the most ratchet-esque things in the club that made me feel old (Even though I know I'm quite far from it, thank you very much). I seen women in bra tops and skirts silently plotting on the next guy they wanted to buy them a drink, girls barely in clothes grinding on the floor at the drop of the "No Hands" beat, 20 inch weaves with glued fake eyelashes that look like black construction paper with slits in them, chicks throwing their legs in the air in dresses as they danced with guys in an inappropriate fashion, and an unendless crowd of people that looked like they chased their last tequila shot with their morals. It. Was. So. Bad. I couldn't understand this environment. What the hell was going on? I don't remember the club being like this. I didn't know whether I should leave or throw condoms out into the crowd (cuz they all look like they were one step away from a pregnancy scare). As I downed another drink, I decided to sit with my girls, observe the crowd, and just take in the comedy relief. I wish I could've wrapped the DJ up and grabbed the microphone to point out the following things.


For one, ladies please don't go out in these streets in these risque outfits. ESPECIALLY if you don't have the body for it. Why the hell are you out here in lingerie and stilettos? Do you think that this is cute? What are you trying to prove? Do your friends love you? Because they didn't love you enough to think it's ok to let you leave the house like that. An outfit that is way too tight, got your thong peaking out, titties spilling out your dress, jeans that look like they are suffocating your unkempt abdomen, and dresses that reveal your cellulite-plagued legs will only gain you disrespect from the next dude. You got mad because he grabbed your chesticle while you were dancing? Its not right and I'm not defending him but, guess what? That's the message you are sending. Your outfit is not a reflection of your inner intentions but it is the first thing guys will see when you meet them. You carry yourself like a hoe, then you will be seen as a hoe. Point. Blank. So get off that high horse of "You're not gonna disrespect me because I'm a lady" if you walked out the house in 6-inch heels with aluminum foil wrapped around your hips and pasted to your chest as an outfit. Nope. Your mic has now been silenced. Be classy. Be sexy. DRESS FOR YOUR BODY TYPE. You have your goodies all out at the club that you don't even give him enough mental room to wonder. Get your pasties OUTTA here!!!

After convincing the DJ to give me a fake birthday shoutout (I like to do that alot) I bobbed and weaved through the crowd to get back to my seat and my custom drink. I was just amazed at how some chicks were losing their minds out here. One girl was in a dress grinding in a chair by herself to some song that came on and when a guy came in to fill her lonely dance partner void, she had her legs all up in the air, dress rising up, all that. It. Was. Just. Tacky. Ladies, please have some self respect. I don't care if you are drunk. That is NEVER an excuse. Liquor releases you're inner inhibitions. So, if you were hiding from everyone that you really were a hoe, its probably going to be revealed to the general public when you are under the influence. And guess what? THERE IS NO REASON TO PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE LIKE THAT (unless that was what you were shooting for). Are you desperate? Lonely? Low self-esteem? Going through sex withdrawal or some other made up ailment? Chances are you have answered "NO" to all of the above questions. There's dancing and there is one slow grind away from trying to get pregnant in the club. Understand the difference. All that extra-ness is highly unnecessary. Most of all, have fun ladies. Carry yourself better.

As I continued to repeat to myself in the club that "I'm not about this nightlife" with my eyes closed and clicking my gold glitter stilettos together in the spirit of drunkenness and in the hopes that things would change, the third thing I wanted to point out came to me as I grazed by a conversation. LAST BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, I need you women to STOP trying to find a man in the club. There are way too many things wrong with it. Here's just the top two reasons:


1. According to various and abundant male sources, guys aren't going to the club to find a wife. They are out there to choose, be chosen, and/or have a "happy ending" by the night. Now you over there can front and say, "I'm looking for a friend". Oh really? Think deeper into your motive and it will boil down to exactly the same thing "to choose, be chosen, or "get lucky". Stop complaining you can't find a decent man if the club is the only place you look, sweetie. I simply cannot trust the validity of your statement.


2. (Now this is my opinion) I see the club as a "hostile" environment. People are in rare form. You got dudes in suits, button-downs, expensive colognes, VIP, fresh cut. You have the ladies in perfectly crafted makeup schemes, stilettos, revealing dresses, fresh weaves and/or hairstyles. Everyone is a walking facade. Yes. Everyone. Because 9 times out of 10 you DO NOT look like that at 10a on a Tuesday morning at work. Save the smoke and mirrors. **screams into crowd** "YOU'RE NOT REAAALLLLL!!!"




When I got home that night, I felt like I needed to retire partying altogether. This is not what I remember. At. All. I used to come to the club to celebrate. To create laughs that will make me smile years from now. And dance, even if its by myself, in an environment other than my house (don't front like you didn't catch yourself in the house dancing at any point in time of your life. I KNOW YOU WERE IN THAT MIRROR TOO!). And what did I see throughout the night? Drunken struggle. Everywhere. We need to do better ya'll. I'm serious.