Wakey Wakey

I was sleeping in Cam's top bunk this morning when I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

"Scuse me, Kelly?"

"I want to tell you a story."

"Once upon a time Kelly was sleeping when it was light outside."

"Can you wake up please?"

"I'm hungry."

How could I not?

It's my aeroplane

Sometimes I'm baffled at how inconsiderate people are. I mean there are moments when I want to ask people if they can hear the words coming out of their mouths. Do they think that sounds ok? Today on the plane from Charlotte to Miami, I sat in front of a family of 3. The 3-year-old began kicking my seat with all her might before the plane was boarded. Ugh. It's going to be a long ride. Just as I was going to turn and politely ask her to stop, while being playful of course because she is 3, this happened, and I decided against it.

The flight attendant, mid-fiftiesh red-headed woman, tried to close the overhead bin. It wouldn't shut because it appeared the man's (behind me) suitcase was too big. So she said, "Sir, the overhead bin won't close because your bag is too big. Can I ask you to bring it to the front and we'll check it at no charge?"

He stood up, huffing and puffing, and started slamming the bag around, yanking it out, jamming it back in, turning it, etc. The he slammed the compartment closed. Only it wasn't closed. The side of it was still open because the bag was still too big. So when she pointed that out, he reopened it, made a lot of noise, and then forced it shut again. It was still open, so he started banging it shut until it finally locked on both sides (bulging in the middle).

The flight attendant seemed happy with this compromise, and continued on her pre-flight duties. As she began to walk away, he shouted, "let me know if you'd like me to do any of the rest of your job for you today."

Really? You're an asshole.

As Stephanie Tanner would say, "HOW RUDE!"

2AM SPECIAL

Looks like all those weeks spent grounded in my room in high school, memorizing rap lyrics, finally payed off. Thanks mom and dad.

Once a month, Whit and I used to hit up HHK NYC, or hip hop karaoke. This is not your run of the mill, get drunk, read the screen, scream at the top of your lungs karaoke. This is the real deal. Think 8-Mile mom's spaghetti scene. Tons of people, one huge stage, DJ, MC, instrumental tracks, the works.

I always told Whit that before I left NYC I would take the stage. Needless to say, I never got up the courage to rhyme in front of all those people.

Present day, unexpectedly back in NYC, I get an email notification that HHK is happening Friday October 15. It's fate, right? I have always said if I had the balls to do it, I'd do Outkast Da Art of Storytellin, which is no easy feat.

So I get home from work, lock myself in the kitchen, wooden spoon microphone and all, and start practicing. After practicing my dream song, I then try out an easier song, thinking it might be easier to get on stage in front of all those people. It won't. Go big or go home.

I get to signup early, run to Digs (the MC/host) and ask to sign up early before I loose my nerve. He tells me not to freak out, "you sign up, get some drinks, then it's much easier". I inform him I don't drink. He says he doesn't know what to tell me then. I sign up. I am #27. I haven't eaten since lunch in hopes that I won't puke on myself. Stage fright is a real thing people.

Keiji, Luke, and Meranne come. I am sweating and shaking and have never been so nervous/petrified in my whole life. I am holding the lyric sheet so tightly my knuckles are white. I don't look it over, as I don't need to, but it's somehow comforting. As #26 takes the stage I can't feel my legs. Keij and Luke tell me to use the anxious energy to rock out. I tell them I might use that energy to projectile vomit on the crowd.

"Kelly to the stage." Oh shit. Here goes nothing. I make my way up on stage and Digs says, "oh this girl has been waiting all night". People are giving me doubting looks, and one guy yells that I look like an angry mom. Cool. I politely tell him I am not a mom and I am not angry. I am too nervous to tell him what I really think. Wex drops the beat. I start off super shaky. I know that if I can get through the first half of the first verse, I'll make it. Once my nerves calm, I bust it out. People are sort of stunned. The crowd is excited. I am about to pee my pants. But I finish. And as I'm trying my hardest to quickly exit the stage, Digs tells me I "killed it". It's the best feeling I've ever had! Luke and Keiji are going nuts, I am so happy they are there!

Once outside Mercury Lounge, Keij asks how I feel. I tell him I am hungry, still can't feel my legs, but that I feel good because that is the hardest thing I've ever done. He looks at me because I'm ridiculous and says, "Kells, you just rode your bike all the way across the country, and Hip Hop Karaoke is the hardest thing you've ever done?"

As Keiji likes to say, my upswing continues.

"She's A Maniac" as it now relates to my life plan

Let me set the scene. Last night. Brooklyn. Park Slope. Union Hall. Basement. Post-awesome hipster concert. DJ spinning mad 80s tunes. Dancing. Dancing. Dancing. You got it?

The beginning beats of She's A Maniac start blaring out of the speakers. I go wild. My friends are ready to leave. I cannot leave during this song. I proceed to dance like a maniac (how cute) into the hallway by the bathroom, high-fiving passing dancers who are almost as enthusiastic as I am about this song. I have let it all go. I am crazily dancing all around. It is time to go. I make this statement, a statement so bold, I was afraid to say it out loud, for fear that I was just so caught up in the moment.

"This could be the best song to dance to in the whole world". 18 hours later. I still stand by it.

Cut to this morning. After brunch at Bianca's, we are sitting around watching YouTube videos of the 80s Crystal Light Aerobics Competition. This naturally leads us into conversation about Jazzercise. Is it still around? Are there videos? Where can we get that leotard? Obvious questions.

I Google Jazzercise. It seems it's making a comeback. Maybe it never left. But they've got Dancing with the Stars Behind It.

I have spoken at times of starting an exercise class for freestyle dancing. Seems this more organized Jazzercise may be right up my alley. So I've decided. After all the searching, all the confusion of what to do with my life, I've figured it out. I now know how to answer the question of what I'm going to do when I'm done traveling. I'm going to use my mind-blowing dance skills for the betterment of mankind (or more likely womankind). I'm going to teach the world Jazzercise.

These 2 stories seem unrelated when I go back and re-read this entry. They are not. Loves music. Loves to dance. Period.