Tap Dance in Pacifica

I loved dancing school when I was a kid.  It was more than dancing school.  It was the foundation for whatever paltry confidence I dragged with me into adulthood, and it kept me out of trouble in more ways than I can count. 

I suffered through ballet class.  We all did. The bar work, no matter how it toned my body in a way I didn't appreciate at the time, was grueling. Connie had us bending and twist and holding, and it was difficult and painful.  The tap dance, however, was thoroughly enjoyable. Nobody taught like Connie did.  She was striking, demanding, and talented, and she endowed my feet with 15 years’ worth of tap routines that are forever emblazoned in my muscle memory (a term she used frequently).  Waltz clogs, time steps (single, double, and triple), shuffle off to Buffalo, Fred Astaire breaks, chugs, flaps, slaps and travelling steps are all accessible to me now.

Before my weight loss surgery a year ago, tap dance was one of the things that motivated and excited me.  Elizabeth’s sophomore year high school musical and dance recital fired me up even more.  Now, I’m pursing it.

I've listed two classes in Pacifica’s Park & Rec Fall Play book.  Beginners Adult Tap Dance is offered twice with a series of six classes in September/October, and six classes in October/November; two sessions back to back.  I’m holding the classes in the little dance studio at the Pacifica Community Center.  It’s got bars, mirrors and everything.

I am poised to launch an intensive local marketing campaign with flyers, postcards, ads in the paper and on Pacifica’s public access channel, and a website dedicated exclusively to tap dance.  I think I’ll call it “Pacifica Tap”.  I want to apply what I've learned about press at Sanchez Art Center to this.

There is a tiny possibility that I might be able to teach a class at Spindrift, too, but we’ll see if it works out.  It doesn't matter to me one way or the other.  What matters to me is my health and readiness.

I better get ready.

Don’tcha think?

If It's Not All Well, Then It's Not The End

The last time I blogged I just found out my unemployment insurance was exhausted.  Don’t ask me how something that important could possibly be unexpected, because I’m still wondering that myself.  My head absolutely exploded as Leslie and I teetered on the edge of a very precarious cliff, neither side of which guaranteed any mortgage payments in our immediate future.  Crisis mode!

Since then, a few things have changed.

Immediately after hearing the bad news mentioned above, I sent out an S.O.S. to everyone I know in Pacifica.  I sent them my professional resume and asked if they would share it with work connections, etc.  And one of those people came back with a wonderful little opportunity for part time contracted work at the local art center. This is the place where the Art Guild has most of their shows.  I’ve been attracted to this place ever since we moved to Pacifica, and the woman I’m working with is at a super busy time of the year and feels that I was sent to her.  Kismet!  I’m learning all about running a gallery, and how to keep artist studios rented and full, and how to run their non-profit business.  It’s the kind of work that is good for the spirit, but not so good for the pocket book.

Meanwhile, I’m waiting to hear on another part time opportunity brought to my attention by an old high school chum who was kind enough to respond to the post-crisis freaking out I did on Facebook.  I mean, this really touches my heart.  She’s a fun, crazy person who has raised four gorgeous, smart and talented children, but I’d sort of lost track of her.  Finding her on Facebook (actually, she found me) was a blessing, and we’ve had a lot of fun with one another on-line since. 

Then, a job I applied for in a mid-size accounting firm, one that pays very well, began to gain traction immediately after my employment insurance fiasco.  I found this position through a placement agency.  My resume was put in front of them over a month ago, but I hadn’t heard anything. I thought for sure it was a done deal.  Then, they called me in for an interview, the kind where you sit in a conference room and meet one person after another.  I prepared for two days, so my interviews went very well. I’m hoping to be called back for round two.

Leslie and I find ourselves in the uncomfortable transition between crisis and resolution. While it would be much more comfortable to know precisely where the money for the mortgage will come from, instead we must have faith that all will turn out.  What do they say?  All will be well in the end, and if it’s not well, then it’s not the end.