/elizzybeth

BURP: taking class.

To my old followers: remember when that’s all I’d ever do? Remember my frequent videos of all the classes I’d take from different choreographers every week? Gosh, what happened to that Lizzy?

There was a fire that burned so bright within me back then… All I wanted to do was learn, train, and grow as a dancer. I made some continuous progress but then I just kind of stopped. My passion started dying out slowly until it eventually got lost somewhere, which in turn, hindered my growth and even made my skill level hit a dramatic decline. Ever since this semester started, I’ve felt more insecure about my dancing every day. I knew it wasn’t in my head either; I felt myself not dancing like I used to. I felt myself not going full out or executing things properly and it really affected my confidence. It wasn’t until recently I decided to actively do something about it.

Tonight I took class from Brian and Scott Nicholson at Broadway Dance Center. I’ve been taking more classes at BDC for the past two weeks in hopes of getting myself out of this dance-funk. 

And tonight… something clicked.

Somewhere in the middle of class I felt so driven and so at home… When it finally clicked inside of me I felt unstoppable. That renewed driving force was enough for me to be completely satisfied with Brian and Scott’s class but, to top it all off, Brian called me out at the end of class. I haven’t been picked for select group/called out by a choreographer in so. damn. long. Granted, I haven’t been taking class religiously but still… I remember when it was like a drug I was addicted to — I would always go to class and had to get select or else I would leave feeling dissatisfied or shitty. But tonight, even if Brian didn’t call me out, I would have left BDC floating on a cloud.

Such good vibes in that studio tonight… I know Jongo and Deema felt it too because right after class we collectively decided the night was too beautiful and we felt too hyped to hop on the train home so we walked. 30 blocks downtown. 

I’m just so happy and I can’t even articulate it properly.

It feels good to be back.

future

So here I am, 6 AM Eastern Daylight Time, scared shitless at the thought of my future. I’m just starting out and I’m already worried about when I should start studying for the GMAT and how shitty my scores might turn out. I’m already assessing whether or not NYU Stern School of Business or possibly Columbia School of Business will accept me once I earn my bachelor’s degree, and shit, I haven’t even been in college long enough to even begin assessing that situation.

Should I do grade forgivenesses for some courses I got B’s in so that my GPA is as high as possible when I receive my undergrad degree? What if my resume isn’t impressive or diverse enough… maybe I should look into interning in a department/for a company that is completely left-field for me… Am I even smart enough to be here and even thinking about continuing onto grad school? Am I too much of an idiot to be a business major? Is this the right choice? It is the right choice… right? So do I have what it takes to beat out the competition in such a competitive major and job market? No I don’t. Yes I do. Man, hail yeah I do. But wait… do I? Why do I have so many doubts? I’m smart, damnit. No I’m not. Yes I am. No I’m not. Yes I am… but not smart enough? Wait, no. Fuck.

All these things…

I’m scared.

I’m scared.

I’m scar

I’m….

ambition.

I can’t stand people without ambition. Thankfully, I never have to deal with people like that here. In fact, I’m surrounded by ambitious, driven, motivated, smart, unique people every single day… and it’s actually ridiculously intimidating. Every day all my friends are on their grind. Making moves. Interning for PR Consulting, or WWD or Vogue or some other Conde Nast publication. Getting job offers from some of the “Big 5” financial firms after interning for them for two summers (and, btw, earning $30,000 stipend each of those summers just for interning.. I know right).

I can’t help but feel like I’m not keeping up. Like I’m not on track. It’s time for me to womyn the fuck up. What happened to the drive I had when I first moved here? It was like a force within me that I could not contain. I guess it got overshadowed by all the strong personalities I’m always surrounded by. I need to remind myself that I have what it takes; yes, it’s competitive, but I have to remember that I do have something special and unique to bring to the table.

Eyes on the prize.

great.

I want to be great at something. I feel like I’m good at a lot of things, but not great… not super spectacular or special at a singular specific thing.

What is it with these amazingly talented dancers, singers, musicians, photographers, etcetera? I wish I was great in at least one artistic medium… But because I’m not, I’m feeling like Ms. Mediocre all over again, except this time it’s worse…

:/

BURP: Ms. Mediocre

Not feeling wonderful at all. My biggest fear is mediocrity and a lot of what I’ve done (or, rather, haven’t done) is even less than mediocre. I take on responsibilities because I know I can handle everything that comes with each obligation and because I feel that I can bring something special to the table.

But why haven’t I brought anything substantial to the table?

I have to take everything more seriously. I feel like I’m letting people down and with that realization, I become self-destructive.

But I’m not gonna try and build up a pity-party. I gotta pull myself together because this is my shit. And I just need to womyn the fuck up. I will prove to myself, as well as my colleagues, that I took on the responsibility because I have the drive and dedication to be amazing at the job(s) I’ve been given.

No more Ms. Mediocre.

BURP: self-realization

BURP: rain.

It’s Sunday evening. I just checked the weather forecast and it’s supposed to rain in New York City on my birthday (December 7th).

This news would be extremely upsetting to most people, but to me… it’s actually quite comforting. 

It has rained every year on my birthday/the day I celebrate my birthday since as far back as I could remember…

I think the first time I remember it raining was my 7th birthday. My 7th birthday party was in the middle of a huge thunderstorm and it made me so sad the morning of the party because that meant I wouldn’t be able to have the bounce house. And I loved (actually I still do love) those things. But even with that slight set-back, my 7th birthday was crackin. Definitely the dopest children’s party ever.

My 12th party was an indoor pool party. Man, was that shit a mess. First we couldn’t get into the pool on time because no one was there to open the place up for us. Then a whole bunch of my friends went home because their parents were tired of waiting for so long (2.5 hours) to drop them off. But in the end… my friends and parents who did wait for the party said it was one of the best parties they had ever been to and the food was delicious lol.

Most people don’t know this, but my 18th birthday was a mess before all the guests arrived at Poleng Lounge. An absolute MESS. I had been crying all day, my hair was done all wrong (we couldn’t get it done at the salon I made an appointment because of the rain), we lost the flowers, the centerpieces my mom and I made were messed up, the lounge had the wrong tables and chairs set up…. and hella more shit… just… a mess. But it ended up being the best possible debut I could ever imagine. Even with a handful of people not showing up or running late because of the rain… MY DEBUT WAS CRACKIN’ and I was so blessed to share it with so many people I love and care about.

So here I am in 2011, living in New York City, turning 20 years old in a couple of days… and it’s going to rain. Perfect. (No, really.) What’s funny is that when I went to check the weather forecast for San Francisco/Pacifica/Daly City… there was no mention of any chance of precipitation. I don’t know why, but I think it’s a sign… A sign that I’m in the right place at the right time. It wouldn’t be my birthday if it didn’t rain. 

I’m excited to start my non-teen years in a new place with the new friends I’ve made here. I feel so blessed and I look forward to my rainy birthday!

(This will probably post sometime on my birthday actually… so happy birthday to me)

BURP: earthquake in the East, earthquake in the West.

Okay, okay… so it was kind of funny to see how people in the East Coast reacted to - what was for most of them - their first earthquake. I’ve seen a couple of humorous status updates and tumblr posts from West coasters digging at East coasters (guilty) for reacting so big to something that is so normal for us in California. It was all in good fun, but now that everyone has settled down, I realize we were being so stupid. Seriously, the people in Japan were probably reading our tweets and wishing they could tell us to shut the fuck up.

We have a ton of earthquakes in California all the time, so we tend to ignore them and continue on like nothing happened. But maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we should take these little earthquakes as a reminder to be prepared for something bigger. Maybe people in the East coast should look at their extremely rare earthquake as a wake up call; anything could happen.

Bottom line: be prepared. Have emergency kits/bags handy and have an evacuation plan set up with your family or whomever you live with.

Stay safe peeps. God bless. xoxo

BURP: Alone, a lot

Lately I have been noticing that I spend most of my time by myself. I take drives to grab a bite, do some shopping, or run some errands by myself. It rarely ever crosses my mind to hit somebody up to come with me. Now, I’ll admit — it might be because I really don’t have a lot of friends that I feel chill enough with to just hit up that minute to go out. But at the same time, I think it’s just because I like being alone. I enjoy hearing my own thoughts in silence. I like being able to think out-loud or talk to myself. I love being home alone, snuggled in bed, eating and watching movies all day. I like shopping without the persuasion of someone else’s personal style on my clothing choices. I like enjoying food where I don’t have to talk in between chewing so I can savor the multitude of flavors in every bite. I like spending time on my own.

I grew up an only child and according to my mom, I was never one of those only children who begged for a sibling. It’s not because I was spoiled, she says… because I so wasn’t. It was because I was always immersed in my own little world, finding entertainment in the simplest of things, by myself.

So I guess I’ve always been that way.. I’ve always just been fine on my own. But lately, I don’t like the solitude very much. Sometimes I see photos or status updates on Facebook about friends all having a good time together, or tweets about where my friends are and how much fun they’re having together… and I wonder… “Why was I not there?” It seems like my life is so interesting here on Tumblr, through my tweets or Facebook, but it’s really not.

It sucks even more during nights like this one…

Read more →

This Lenten season:

SACRIFICING:

• Fried Chicken — I am a secret stress-eater. I don’t share this a lot, but I actually turn to fried chicken when I’m stressed. I’m going to take away fried chicken in an effort to stop turning to food to help me chill out.
• Soda — There’s so much unnecessary sugar in soda and it does nothing for my health. Plus, it’s another way of indirectly supporting the same multinational companies that take advantage of smaller towns and developing countries by taking their water in order to make a profit, which I do not want to do.
• Reading Fashion/Beauty Blogs — Let’s be real: As much as we learn from fashion and beauty blogs, they’re still indirectly embedding materialism into our brains. We read posts on this eye look or see a girl in these shoes from Sam Edelman or YSL and think, “I want that.” I don’t shop much, but I still have an unhealthy urge to buy new clothes every now and then. There are times where I catch myself being somewhat materialistic, which might be a result of engaging in too many fashion-reads.

STARTING:

• Volunteering — When I started high school at Mercy, I hated clocking hours to meet my graduation requirement of 100 community service hours. I felt kind of bad for, well, feeling  bad about what I was doing. I didn’t feel like I was helping and I didn’t want to help. After a few years, I really knew myself and what my interests were and found that I really liked volunteering when it came to things or people I was really passionate about. Let’s take dance as an example: The senior culminating project I did with Ria gave me a frikkin’ headache in the process, but as the project progressed, it was the most rewarding experience ever. To see how much us teaching children of low-income families how to dance really impacted their lives and their happiness really justified that we were doing something good. This Lent, I really want to volunteer with women, children, and the homeless. At least twice this month and twice in April.
• Getting in touch with people — I mentioned in a post I had written before that I wanted to get back in touch with the world and away from the Internet. I did a pretty good job at that, but now I want to call the friends I don’t see too often to hang out. Shoot, or even just call the friends I do see often to hang out. I noticed that I’m not one to really initiate a lunch or something with a friend; I almost always wait for someone to just hit me up. That needs to change.
• Running and Dancing — Since I have focused more on money and my education, dancing and exercise have slowly creeped out of my life. Dance used to be a priority for me, second to my education. Now that I’m not in the studio for 9 hours a week like I used to be, I have to say I miss it. I miss the passion and feeling motivated to do something. Dancing for hours on end really calmed me down and kept me grounded. I almost feel like I don’t have a passion for it anymore; I feel sort of lost. I want to get back into class more often and feel that inspiration that comes from sharing creativity and talent with other equally passionate people.

People usually give up weird things like burgers or chips for Lent… but for what? Is there a real point? I mean, would giving up burgers really impact you this Lenten season, or could you easily survive without it? If you’re going to sacrifice something(s) for Lent, make it something that is significant. Otherwise, it isn’t really a sacrifice.

BURP: valentine’s day sucks…?

I, personally, love Valentine’s day. This day is so full of love and expression; so many hearts and flowers are all over the place, I love it! There’s one thing about Valentine’s day that makes it sort of awkward though: teams. You know what I’m talking about; those two different teams that people choose to play for on Valentine’s day: Team “I’m-Swimming-In-Chocolate-and-Flowers-and-Getting-Some-Ass-Tonight” and Team “I’m-Bitter-Fuck-Valentine’s-I’m-S.A.D.”

I actually choose not to play for either team. I didn’t receive any candy or flowers from my guy, but I still enjoy seeing others full of smiles and butterflies from all the gifts they’re getting :)

With CJ and I, it’s definitely always been about the little things in our relationship. In the beginning of our relationship, CJ and I rarely saw each other so it was hard to look at how happy my friends were with their boyfriends, going out on dreamy dates every week. I guess it was difficult for me because all I saw was the bigger picture; I only saw what was on the surface - the flowers, the candy, the fancy dinner. Once I learned to get past all that cheese, I slowly realized that I have it 100 times better than a lot of other girls in relationships.

I have a guy who really, truly loves me. I have a guy who cares about my health, who would sit in traffic for 3 hours just to sit by my bed for whatever time he can, keeping me company when I’m alone with the flu. I have a guy who is attracted to me, whose eyes still light up when I come walking down the stairs in something a little sexy. I have a guy who respects my ambitions, who stays up late with me when I’m crying and stressed out about school, just so he can constantly reassure me that I can do it. I have a guy who laughs with me, who would rather stay in on a Friday night with me in bed watching Kevin Hart in “Seriously Funny.”

I have a guy who chose me. Out of every girl in the world, he chose to be with me. He could be playing ball with his friends instead of sitting in traffic for 3 hours to see me. He could be fast asleep at 3 am after a tiring day instead of staying awake just to make sure I’m okay. He could be doing whatever the hell he wants, but all he wants is me.

I think that’s what is so easily hidden and forgotten among couples these days. A lot of us womyn, myself included, are so preoccupied with getting swept off our feet every other week, or getting serenaded outside our bedroom window at 3 in the morning by our prince charming, when what’s really important is that we have someone who cares about us in our lives. Here we are thinking our guys are inconsiderate and not being chivalrous or showing they love us… when they do. Every single day. Yeah, candies, flowers, and fancy dinners are nice every so often, but let’s be real. We keep giving our men these unrealistic Hollywood-like expectations, which are pretty much insane. It’s no wonder chivalry is “dead;” we may very well be the ones who killed it. Seriously. Think about all that pressure guys must go through to impress their girl… damn.

I don’t know.. I can’t really organize my thoughts into something cohesive. All I’m trying to say is that, no matter which team you played for today — whether you were showered with presents today, or made snarky comments about all the idiots in love — we all need to stop focusing so much on all the mumbo jumbo and realize what is really important: love.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody. Hug your mom, your sister, your brother, your best friend, your boyfriend, your girlfriend… hug everyone! Express your love. You don’t need money or a silly holiday to do that. Every day should be a day to share the love.

BURP: the truth?

We NEVER hang out, even though you guys do all the time without me, because I don’t dance on the same team/company as you anymore. That’s just how it is. I’ve become the person you only “hit up” when you “miss” me. The truth is that dancing connected us as friends, otherwise we would have never been close at all. The truth is that it’s more convenient and the opportunity comes up more frequently for you to hang out with each other because you have practice right after, or because you don’t have practice and want to see each other anyway, or because you’re hanging out w/ people from the company and i’d be the odd-ball out, or because you need to go shopping together to look for a costume for the show you’re all in, or because you have more to talk about because you have the same inside jokes or same gossip to talk about within the company and I’d be clueless.

The truth? I don’t want to make the effort either. Sometimes I deny you for no reason cuz I don’t feel like seeing you, since I probably will be bored and will be the odd-ball out. Cuz all you’ll talk about is shit within the company and won’t be genuinely interested with what’s going on w/ me and trying to figure out which schools to go to.

Why should I make the effort anyway? Half of you only hit me up because you need help with something or need to borrow some clothes. Fuckers. Oh well, all our friendship is now is superficial. And idc.

I wish I lived in the East Bay near people I love. And shit, I hate the East Bay.

I can’t wait to move to NYC.

BURP: burden.

When it comes to my own problems, I almost always respond with individualism. I pretty much set myself up to be alone, lonely, in all this stupidity.

When something is my problem, I feel like it’s my responsibility to deal — and mine alone. I bottle up all my stress, sadness, anxiety, and anger because I don’t want to exude such negative energy toward my friends; no one likes a party pooper. But I mainly hate sharing or venting to my mom or friends because I know they’ll be concerned. I don’t want them to worry or be scared. I have amazing friends and I hate that they’re so amazing sometimes because I’d feel so bad if they worried about me! ‘Cause, hey, they have a lot on their own plate already and I don’t want to be the person to add more onto it.

And yet, here I am, wishing I knew how the hell to deal with all this right now. I wish I were superwoman so I could handle all this on my own, or I wish I wasn’t so worried about burdening my friends because I know that’s what they’re there for.

But damnit.

I hate being a burden.

BURP: Do I know you?

I was just scrolling up and down the news-feed on my Facebook homepage when I remembered a conversation I had with my cousin on Christmas day.

My cousin and I were sitting in the living room, asking one of our nephews how things were going. After he finished updating us about his life, my cousin and I realized that we said, “oh, you said that in a Facebook status,” or “oh, yeah, I read your tweet,” to everything our nephew said to us. 

Isn’t that nuts? It’s like there was no need for us to have a conversation at all. We could have been perfectly fine just sitting there, not talking, even if we had not seen each other in weeks. How sad. 

We then realized that most of what we think we know about our peers - we learn through the internet. It’s so true, too. I don’t ever hang out with a good chunk of the people on my friends-list and the only way I know anything about their current life is because of Facebook, Twitter, or even Tumblr.

That’s the way most of us judge people these days, isn’t it? Tumblr.
You know this girl has a kickass sense of style because she posts pictures of some of her outfits online. You know that guy has awesome taste in music because he uploads some chill songs. You know this girl has a horrible addiction to shopping because she posts pictures of the stuff she buys online. You know that girl is having trouble in the boy department because she keeps reblogging emo song quotes.

But the thing is….
You don’t know.

Maybe the girl has a boring sense of style, but got lucky with an outfit and took a picture. Maybe the guy got the playlist of chill songs from his friend and the only songs he actually knows are from Sesame Street. Maybe that girl doesn’t have a shopping addiction; maybe she just wants to show off what she got. Maybe that girl isn’t even involved with a guy; she probably just likes the song!

We have no idea who people really are and what their personalities are like if the only source we have to form our opinion is the internet. Hell, CJ and I took the cutest picture together where we looked ridiculously happy, but really- we were the furthest thing from it. I was PMSing and he was irritated by my PMSing. I posted that on the internet and people thought we were “so cute!” and commented on how they “want a relationship just like ours!” Ha. Oh, and there was another instance where I met and hung out with this dancer I had looked up to for so long - in how humble she was, how she could sing and dance, and how she had an awesome sense of style. Turns out she was a bitch who exuded that “I’m the shit” vibe. Totally opposite of how humble and sweet I thought she was based on what I had seen of her on YouTube, Twitter, or Tumblr.

I hadn’t planned on making any New Year’s resolutions but I think one resolution that I’m going to try to make (not just for this year, but through the years to come) is to get back in contact with people. Try to call more than text. Hang out more with the people I don’t see often, rather than just texting or tweeting them. Actually get to know a person, through talking to one another, rather than reading what they post on the internet. I want to get back into the world and get out of this fabricated form of communication that is slowly consuming our lives.

The point is: “everybody knows, but nobody really knows.”

BURP: sometimes, I wish..

• I were 5’7”
• I were half white or half Italian
• I were skinnier
• I were blonde
• I had a slender nose
• I had a taller nose
• I had a heart shaped face
• I had a flat stomach
• I had straight teeth
• I had been born with all my teeth
• I had no gummy smile
• I had longer eyelashes
• I had longer legs
• I had less muscular legs
• I had less muscular arms
• I had skinnier arms
• I had skinnier legs
• I had a more slender waist
• I looked like Emma Watson
• I looked like Megan Fox
• I looked like Kim Kardashian
• I looked like Megan Good
• I looked like Jessica Alba
  
  sometimes, i wish…
  …to be happy w/ my appearance.