life right now

This past weekend was Dance Recital Weekend--and believe me, it's well deserving of those capital letters.  Four long performances, very little sleep, late nights, using up cans of hairspray, getting sore.  Before it all begins, I start to dread it.  During the dress rehearsal and first performance or two, I decide I love it.  On Saturday (the last day, with two performances and an early morning), I'm exhausted and anxious for it to end.

first legit pointe dance.  holla!

megan's dance; littler girls are lucky and only have to perform in one show.
let's just say she rocked her dance on saturday night.

I mean, I've gotten used to it, not having a life for five days and all.  I really, really like Dance Recital Weekend, even if I'm a tired, sore, messy, disoranged mess by the end of it.  There's something kind of fun about fighting through and realizing how much energy you actually have left.

On the other hand, while I generally get sad and nostalgic when performances are over (see here and here for just a couple examples), relief, along with aches and exhaustion, had to come first this time.  I performed my dances--and they were much fun--four freaking times, after all.  No one was about to want to do it again.

Basically, I've been rejoicing in little things this weekend.

Like emailing friends telling them how exhausted I am and getting replies saying something along the lines of, "keep going...you haven't died yet, Hannah!" and then smiling.

Like doing my makeup before each show.  It's therapeutic.  Don't judge me.

Like warm-ups on the stage when I get to the theatre.  There's no barre to use, so I work on balance.  Physically and mentally.  With every plié , tendu, and port de bras, I decide that I'm content.  And happy.

Like drinking Snapple and sharing food backstage.  Maybe unhealthy food, but that's okay, too.

And, if it even counts, like yesterday: sleeping in, church, coffee, celebrating Father's Day, picking my camera up for the first time in weeks, starting this blog post, and organizing my thoughts.  I'm so thankful for normal.  While I love dancing, singing, acting, performing, I could never, never do it for a living.  I would die for reals, friends.

We didn't do anything "special" for Father's Day.  But special still came in the form of opening gifts, our neighborhood pool, and scrambling to decide what was for dinner--which ended in an impromptu, late at night grill-out.  It wasn't all good; we were worn-out from my dance recital and I needed sleep and our plans kept changing and there were some tears and a few harsh words and maybe a little complaining.  In fact, over dinner, CJ was kind enough to tell us all the things that had gone wrong...which included Albert Pujoles getting injured and his having to go the dentist the next day.  But whatever.  It still worked.

And by the way, Dad, I feel honored to have made you a father and I'm grateful for everything you've done for me...so grateful.  I love you.

Hope you're having a lovely Monday, friends.  What did y'all do over the weekend?

love,
hannah

ps--I realize that this is the first non-Amsterdam post I've written in a crazy-long time.  That doesn't mean that there won't be many more to come, of course; I love writing them, and I know y'all like reading them, too.  But I'd like to integrate my messy, every-day posts back in here, too.  Just letting ya know, friends. :-)