Sometimes Interpretive Dance is a Bad Thing – Day 16 of Zero to Hero

In 3rd Grade, I invented a dance specifically for show-and-tell. It was called the Charlie Horse Dance, created after a sleepless night of ridiculous leg cramping, teeth clenching growing pains. After some deep thoughts over a bowl of Lucky Charms, I decided that the painful experience must be shared with my classmates, interactively. A wicked laugh escaped me.

I hatched a plan while hiking eight snowy blocks, on my way to school. It was TOP SECRET and had to be executed quickly. I giggled to myself while walking across the schoolyard, dodging the boy’s snowball fight. I giggled a little more, while climbing the winding staircase to our 2nd floor classroom. I giggled with an increased, bubbling exhilaration while taking off my coat, hat, scarf, and gloves in preparation for the day’s lessons. I ignored the quizzing side glances from my fellow classmates. Quieting my giggle to a sometime chuckle, I settled into my seat.

Our classroom was a big square with windows along one side that faced East. Our teacher, Miss J., closed the blinds in the morning so that the sun’s rays wouldn’t blind us. She was a new teacher (our class was her first class since graduating from college) and she had different ideas on seating charts. Instead of placing our desks in rows, she moved our desks into a large U-shape, in which the desks faced the center of the room. This placement gave us a big open space in the middle of the class, where we could: a. stretch out during quiet reading time; or b. play games when it was too cold to go outside. Miss J.’s desk created a dash in the top of our U-shape, with space on both sides creating two entrances/exits.

The morning bell rang, and Miss J. asked for us to quiet down. She called attendance (to which we all shouted “HERE!” upon being recognized) and then requested volunteers for show-and-tell. Percy raised his freckled arm first. “Yes, Percy. Do you have something to share with the class this morning?”

“Yes, Miss J.,” he gulped, “I do have something to share for show-and-tell.”

“Come up here then, dear.” She patted her desk, inviting him to stand at the top of the U-shape. Rising from his seat, I watched him shuffle around the desks and then enter the show-and-tell zone. His red hair stood out in stark contrast with his green and white striped shirt.

“For show-and-tell today, I would like to tell you about my favorite actor, John Wayne,” he began. “I just watched the movie True Grit with my dad, and it’s the greatest movie, ever!” He went on and on about the movie plot and then talked about how John Wayne filmed movies in Southern Utah back in the 1950’s…I hardly paid attention, instead, I focused on bouncing my leg up and down and thrummed my fingers on my desk in anticipation of being called up next to share.

Finally he was done and we clapped our hands, applauding his effort. I watched him walk back to his seat, a smile plastered to his face. “Nice job, Percy,” Miss J. commented, “Anyone else ready to share?”

My arm shot up in the air with a force so strong, it compelled me to rise from my seat. I stood, nerves twitching, ready for my demonstration. “Sarah, do you have something to share with the class?” she asked me.

“Yes, Miss J.” I replied. “I have a very special dance that I would like to share with everyone…well maybe not everyone. Maybe just the boys…for now.”

“Okay…” she responded. A look of concern crossed her face, which I ignored in my hustle to get to the show-and-tale zone.

Oh boy, this is it, I thought to myself. Whew, take a deep breath. I looked out into the faces of my classmates. Gerald and Davey were whispering to each other and glancing at me.

I cleared my throat. “Hello everyone, I made up a new dance this morning and I wanted to share it with the class.” I bounced on my feet, nervous energy escaping me. “It’s called the Charlie Horse Dance and I will need to have the boys stand up in order to show you what it looks like.” I looked Miss J. “Is that okay?” I asked her.

Miss J. glanced around the room and back to me. “Yes,” she replied, “It’s okay with me.” And then turning her attention to the class, she called out, “Boys, please stand for Sarah’s demonstration of the Charlie Horse Dance.” One by one, the boys stood up. I smiled at each and every one of them.

“Please come around, into the center of the floor,” I commanded them, using my stern voice. They followed one another in a line, trailing each other, to the center of the room, stopping in front of their desks. From my left, a U-shaping of boys materialized. There was Gino, Bobby R., Bobby G., Daryl, Gerald, and Davey. Chad, Toby, and Jason circled around the bottom of the U-shape. Richie, Chris, Percy, Marcus, Jesse, and Stevie ended the line on my right.

“Ok, so this is the Charlie Horse Dance.” I moved toward Gino on the left, stopping once I was directly in front of him. I sidestepped to the right, then did a little hop to the left. I took a step back, raised my right leg and kicked out, hitting Gino right in his left shin. “You have a Charlie Horse!” I yelled, jumping up and down, laughter escaping me.

“Ow, Sarah!” Gino yelped while grabbing his shin and hopping on his good foot.

“You’re doing the Charlie Horse Dance, now!” I giggled and then moved onto Bobby R., who stood staring in disbelief at Gino’s predicament. The other boys were making a lot of noise. I heard comments of, “No way I’m letting her kick me.” and “That’s rude, Sarah…freak.” I ignored all the comments except one…from Miss J.

“Sarah, that’s enough,” she sighed. “Boys, please sit down.” I hung my head in shame. “Sarah, I’m not sure what you were thinking when you came up here today, but no one deserves to be kicked. Please apologize to Gino.”

Gino and the other boys walked back to their desks. He sat, watching me with a hurt look on his face. “I’m sorry for kicking you, Gino.” I whispered, staring into his brown eyes (he had curly eyelashes which I’d never noticed before). He nodded at me and then shook his head, looking away as though wondering what he had done to deserve my kick in his shin.

Thank you, Sarah. Please take your seat. We will have a talk at recess.” Head down, I walked back to my desk. Turning to the class, Miss J. said, “Show-and-tell is over. We will begin again tomorrow.” She opened up a text book and turned to the chalk board to begin the day’s spelling lesson.

Sitting in my chair, I looked at Gino across the room. He stared at his desk, obviously in thought. I was ashamed of my behavior. Honestly, I didn’t mean to hurt him or any of the other boys – I was trying to be funny. Tears sprang to my eyes as I wondered about my choice of show-and-tale entertainment.

It was the last time I did a show-and-tale presentation.

From that day forward, I had the reputation of being a jerk (on top of already having a reputation of being weird), which followed me until my family left Utah, three years later. Though I apologized to Gino, but it was too late to undo my action. We never became friends. I suppose it was warranted. Kicking someone for entertainment is kind of a jerky thing to do to someone. Lesson learned.


A post about lack of confidence that somehow ended with Pop Rocks

So, I’ve been following along with the Zero to Hero assignments, but am facing difficulties…again. I keep telling myself to grow a backbone, but it’s not helping. Perhaps it’s my sense of privacy or shining lack of self-confidence that prohibits me from following through with yesterday (comment on 3 blogs) and today’s (write a post about one of your comments)assignments, but I can’t seem to find comfortable space where it’s okay for me to leave posts on other blogs…yet. I did try to leave a post, I promise! I’m not sure if it worked or not (my work computer was acting up while I attempted to eat lunch and respond to blogs at the same time, which may have resulted in me leaving several responses to one poor soul’s post…oh the horror!) and my hands were all sweaty the whole time I was typing. This necessitated the use of a paper towel and then several hand washings in the lunch room, just to calm myself down. Oh nerves, GO AWAY!

At any rate, I did enjoy a piece regarding confidence in blogging (which I’m attempting to absorb by the truck load) and another where advice was given on how to keep writing despite feeling like an idiot (damn good advice). Had I responded to those posts, it would have gone something like this:


Thank you for writing about finding confidence in blogging despite feeling like an idiot (like me). I suffer from the same issue (duh). I hope you will continue writing, because I need to read your blog in order to keep going with my own blog.

Thank you, so much!

Perhaps that sounded desperate. I wasn’t trying to sound needy, though my neediness comes from an honest place. Maybe if all of us (who need a motivating push) banded together, we could beat this lack of confidence – once and for all (insert inspirational music here)!

My desperate attempt in finding blogs to respond to led me to some really great writing. I am thrilled that I started a blog just for the reading privilege here on WordPress. I loved discovering posts about Robin Hobb, Twilight, and Pop Rocks…the latter which inspired me to write a poem:

An Ode to Pop Rocks

Oh, Pop Rocks
Pop, pop, pop

Sizzle on my tongue
Snap against my teeth

Bubble and fuzz, bubble and fuzz, bubble and fuzz
Crunch, crunch, crunch

Oh, Pop Rocks
Pop, pop, pop

Echo in my ears
Rattle in my brain

Crackle and simmer, crackle and simmer, crackle and simmer
Chomp, chomp, chomp

Slither down deep, into my belly
Bouncing, bouncing, bouncing…

Yeah, this is where I should probably end today’s post. Enough nonsense for one evening.

Happy Trails, to all.

Ramblings from Crazy


Not sleeping has its downfalls – exhaustion, grumpiness, and a wiggly feeling carried around in my stomach all day, but it also has some good points – more time to read and ponder the mysteries of the universe, more time to analyze strange dreams, and more time for silly photos with my snuggle pup, Ipo Dog (see above).

I had a horrific nightmare last night about being buried alive…well, my mind was alive but my body was frozen in a corpse-like position…from all outside appearances it would seem like death was an accurate analysis. Trapped in a coffin with no chance of escape, my nightmare then dissipated to one of floating far away from the earth, deep into outer space. I drifted past the moon and Jupiter (skipping by Mars for some reason)…no one around to hear my screams (in fact, no sound came out of my open mouth) or offer assistance. I was wearing a nice nightgown, however, made of old-fashioned lace and ruffles, which was quite lovely.

Upon waking, my first thought was, “My God, what was I reading before I fell asleep?” So, I sat in bed for several moments, thinking back to hours earlier…and came up with nothing. I didn’t read anything prior to falling asleep. How sad.

After scrutinizing my nightmare thoroughly (with help from my sweet Ipo Dog) I’ve come to the conclusion that my brain needs a vacation. Hey, at least I’ve spun that wacky nightmare into something useful; my blog entry for today’s Zero to Hero challenge (inserting media of some sort). Take that, you crazy brained, weirdo nightmare! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!

Here’s to, hopefully, a night of better sleep!


What’s on my Mind – Day 3 of Zero to Hero

Today’s assignment is to write the post that was on my mind when I decided to start this blog…

Writing isn’t easy for me – in fact most things don’t come easily to me. I have huge insecurities. Lack of confidence makes me hesitant to try things. This same lack of confidence also causes me to stop the new things I’ve found the courage to begin. Maybe that makes me a coward. I’m trying to work on that.

In order to be brave, I have to focus on something simple. In writing a blog, I have to focus on my goal for beginning – to write everyday. I’ve done well so far with this Zero to Hero challenge. Yesterday, though I didn’t create a post, I did rewrite my “about me” section. I think I rewrote it about 5 times then was finally fed up and saved it. I want to give an honest representation of who I am, but am afraid. I don’t want to come across as arrogant or pathetic. And, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to share who I really am with the world. I want to remain hidden. I cling to a piece of myself that’s only mine. Does that make sense? It’s my safe place where no one can touch me.

As I struggle to find authenticity for my “technological” identity, I keep circling back to a few questions:

1. How do I remain humble in a world where over sharing is commonplace?
2. How do I present myself honestly without giving too much of myself away?
3. How do I begin to have “real” connections with other people in this transient sphere of society?
4. How do I find the courage to keep going with my blog, even if I’m embarrassed by my own thoughts?

Sometimes I wish I had an “off switch” for my mind. I have so many questions.

It’s so easy to fabricate who we are. How do people build trust through an online experience? Or, is it stupid of me to crave an honest connection with people, electronically? Do we live in a world of fancy images designed to lure in “likes” and followers without consideration of content? Feelings and thoughts expressed with expectation tied to the number of hits received? Is that what having a blog is all about? Because, that’s not what I want. I want a dialogue. I want to listen (read) and share ideas. I want to begin my own personal revolution resulting in gaining a little more confidence. Is that too much to ask?

And so, I begin this journey in blogging. I pray for modesty, integrity, authenticity, and confidence. Wish me luck!

Happy Trails!

Who am I? Why am I here? – Day 1 of the Zero to Hero Challenge


“Ponthus Beech” Photo by Christophe Kiciak

Since this is a new year, a time for beginnings, I feel it necessary to become disciplined in writing everyday. I used to write a journal, but stopped because of personal reasons and outside influence which crippled my desire. It’s something I miss. I could begin writing a private journal again, but have other reasons for wanting to write “publicly”. Communication is important. A human connection is necessary to fully appreciate our existence. In this time of technology, maybe we are losing a bit of our humanity. I would like to connect with other people – and maybe by sharing some of my life, it will help someone else out there in the wide expanse of our universe. 

Maybe I’m just an oversharer. Maybe I’m being an ass for thinking that anything about my life could be interesting to anyone else. Perhaps this blog will be super boring for others, but it will help me get a message out. That’s all I care about. This is for me…and for any other lost souls who get trapped here…just kidding.

 So, welcome Readers, to the 9 Lives of Sarah Q.