Kick My Ass

This is going to sound like another rant about dance (and my insecurities), because it is one.

First, I’m really glad that I auditioned with Allison and Mimi for Mainstacks. I thank these two girls for letting me do formations and blocking for the first and third songs in the set. It was a good opportunity to exercise some creativity that I normally wouldn’t get to do with dancing. We had some good shit that got the crowds excited. Overall, it was a fun experience.

Congratulations to Allison for getting onto the team and to Mimi for making it past the first round of cuts.

Now let’s talk about all the fuck-ups, my fuck-ups.

Each group had to perform their set twice, and probably my biggest fuck-up came in the second when I blanked out for the entire first half of the third song. Oops. But I’m sure if I didn’t blank out, I still would’ve gotten cut after the first round anyway.

Here’s the video of our group’s first performance, when I didn’t blank out:


I think one of the things that hinders my progress as a dancer the most is always hearing, “You did fine,” or, “Good job,” or, “You only need some cleaning.”

Seriously, you can say a lot more. Looking at this video, I know that I did not do fine, I did not do a good job, and I need to do more than “some cleaning.”

If you wanna compliment me, then either you were not watching me at all, or you’re afraid of discouraging me. Don’t worry; I have the strength of my own determination, so nothing can discourage me. Whatever you’re really thinking, just say it. “Why are you in Funksters Intermediate instead of Beginners?” “You don’t look like you’re going to get onto any team at UCI.” “Could you move to the back of the room so the people who actually do get it can see?” “You should’ve stuck with DDR.” I’ve said worse things about my own dancing, so don’t hold back.

The only difference between what I say about myself and what you should say about my dancing is that you can possibly help me. I’ve watched videos of myself over dozens of times, and I see what things I need to work on. But for some reason, when I try to incorporate my own critique, it doesn’t work. My dancing still sucks. I need other people’s specific input into what I can do.

I’m not expecting a thorough critique of the Mainstacks Audition right now (unless you really want to give me one). Just, in the future, when you watch me dance and think in the back of your head, “Ew, why is that guy up there?” don’t struggle to find one good thing about my dancing so you can half-heartedly compliment me later and leave feeling so smug.* Critique me, go over shit with me (and I’ll make more of an effort to straight up ask people to give me advice), and compare me to the other dancers I’m dancing with. They (whoever “they” is) say we shouldn’t compare, but when shit starts to really matter (like audition time), comparing is inevitable.

(*I’m not targeting anyone specifically when I say this, and I don’t hate anyone who does try to compliment me. I do appreciate niceness, but I like critique better.)

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“Ashes”
Written November 15th, 2007

Three Fridays ago, Trung and I met up at a Starbucks across his street to sit down, drink coffee, and watch the world go by. I didn’t think we’d be there for very long, but we ended up chatting for over two hours, all the way up past closing. A lot of different stories from our past up, but some of Trung’s most striking stories were stories about his bitchiness. I’ll go over everything we discussed eventually in other LJ entries, but for now I’m going to concentrate on one part: his method for helping his friends get over break-ups.

So what’s Trung’s method? Telling them to shut the fuck up. In the 10th grade, his friend, let’s call her Helen, broke up with her boyfriend of an amazing two months. She fell into a deep spell of depression which lasted around seven months, and as a result, her grades plummeted. Her F’s were huge fuck-you’s to Trung, so to fix them, Trung degraded her, plowed her into the ground, crushed her so much that she had no self-esteem standing next to Trung. “Why the hell are you letting your grades drop just over a damn boy? How could you do that to yourself? Do you have any self-respect?”

A small part of Helen hated Trung for the longest time, but he was far more helpful than any of her other friends, who offered her the same sweet but empty words over and over again: “Oh don’t worry, you’ll get over him,” “There are many other guys out there,” “Oh, try not to think of that,” “He wasn’t good for you anyway.” These friends of hers gave her flowers; Trung burnt the flowers and gave her the ashes.

Months later when Helen was finally over the break-up, she thanked Trung.

This story made me sorta hate Trung a bit, but then, that hate quickly became an admiration. If only I [[AND YOU!]] could do that.