Blog #4: Velvety Head

            I got the call at about 8:30 AM. It’s going to happen today they say, I need to bring coffee for everyone they say, I’m not going to school today they say, I need to hurry they say. It happened at 8:52 AM. I was actually able to go see her about fifteen minutes later. The walls are white and smooth, as is everything else. Clean. Tidy. It smells like old people. Walking down the narrow hallway, the florescent lights beat down on top of us, illuminating the way. My armpits are either sweating because of the lights or because I was nervous. Gage, my best friend, walks a step behind me, carrying the tray of Starbucks beverages we had brought along with us. In my hands are a bunch of baby pink balloons and a floral printed stuffed elephant. We turn down the maternity ward and walk through the doors. A chubby Hispanic nurse at the desk is busy at work, typing things down with a smile on her face.

“Excuse me?” I say just above a whisper.

Not even looking up from her work she replies, “What family?”

“What?” I whisper again, confused, leaning over the counter.

Looking annoyed but still smiling she replies, “Which family are you here to see darling?”

“Treena Kilsdonk? Well actually her real name is Matreena Kilsdonk, but it might be under Matreena Revoir? That’s her boyfriend’s name. Not Matreena. Revoir.”

Looking back down at her work she replies, “Treena is in room 2A to your left.”

            I say thank you and shuffle down the hallway to my sister’s room. Treena is sitting upright, looking normal. You wouldn’t have guessed that she just ejected a 5 lb., 12 oz., 19 inch baby. Treena’s eyes glisten and sparkle when she sees me, “Would you like to hold her?” I tried to protest, “I’ll drop her, she’s too fragile.” Treena doesn’t listen to my words as she lifts and slides the little thing in the crook of my arm. We kind of just stare at each other for a while. Then she smiled, my little niece smiled. A sleepy, comfortable, happy baby smile. “She’s beautiful” I whisper as I felt her velvety soft head.

Blog #3: The Cinnamon Bear

As Abby gabbed to me, I peered over my shoulder and surveyed the people around us. An elderly woman slowly pushing a shopping cart loaded with cans of Cat food, a ginger lady that looked about my Mother’s age filling a bag filled with M&M’s and then a Win-Co worker in a red vest strolled by. He was a bland person, one of those average joes that don’t stand out and you can’t remember their features. I raised my eyebrows and smiled meagerly at him turning back around towards Abby. She kept chattering about her boyfriend Nick until I scanned back over my shoulder to see if the worker had left. As soon as he did, I popped a chocolate covered cinnamon bear in my mouth. It was rich yet fiery and thrilling. Perked up all my taste buds. She didn’t even see me do it. No one saw me do it. No one will ever know. She kept waving her hands around telling this exaggerated story as I looked through the rest of the candy. Licorice? Sour Jacks? Kisses? Wait, yes. Sour Jacks. As she scooped some candy ropes into a bag I popped a Sour Jack into my mouth. I couldn’t help but smiling as I listened to her boring story, chewing my prize slowly. This one spoke to the sides of my tongue, making it flutter with sourness. I worked hard to keep my face composed. My chest began to flutter and I wanted to keep going and going. It all tasted so wonderfully. My cheeks started to get rosy and my fingers tingled. I wanted one of each. I tossed around the idea in my head on if what I was doing was morally wrong. I couldn’t come to an answer. I still had the sugary grinds on my tongue left over from the bright green Sour Jack as I realized that there were no signs that said sampling the candy wasn’t allowed. Abby looked directly at me while finishing up her story as I bravely grabbed another chocolate covered cinnamon bear and popped it in my mouth. I winked at her and started walking away. She said nothing but simply started chuckling to herself.

Blog #2: My First Fault

           Sitting backstage, I sat on my hands as my Mother curled small ringlets in my hair before pinning it up into a bun. The entire room smelled of burnt hair, sweat, and heavy nerves. In the back corner you could see little Haley crying because her Mom was yelling at her for some stupid mistake like not hip bouncing hard enough. Other girls were stretching, some practicing, and barely any had a happy look on their face. This was the big time. This competition was what was going to determine whether we were going to go to nationals or not, and this time it was in Vegas, it was everyone’s dream to go. It was my first year competing in the solo division, and I counted the steps of my tap routine over and over in my head while doing the moves sitting down, trying not to move my face because by then my Mother had moved on to the blush and lipstick. She kept telling me soothing words like “Just smile and you’ll do great” or “You know the routine like the back of your hand”. I kept to myself in my own little bubble, absorbing the tranquility of her French vanilla perfume and silent humming of my music. I was lucky to have her, she didn’t care whether I went to Nationals or not, not like the other moms that were so hard on their daughters. She just wanted me to be happy.

            Pretty soon, they called my name up from backstage. After strapping on my high-heeled tap shoes and looking myself up and down in the mirror I hugged my Mom and waited backstage. I tried not to watch the other soloists compete. I knew that would only make me more nervous. I stretched my legs and arms and did my best not to smear my makeup. It seemed like time stood still as I waited for it to be my turn. Butterflies were boxing each other inside my stomach as cold chills ran all over my body. I had never gotten that nervous before, but I had never been truly alone in performing either. I always had my team there to support me in every step I made. Here, it was all on me.

“And next up is Katy Kilsdonk performing to Great Balls of Fire by Jerry Lee Lewis!”

I breathed in and out before pasting on a huge smile and walking, tapping, across the stage, taking my position. Facing the back, I popped my foot, sat in my hip, and put one hand behind my head, waiting for my que. The heat of the spotlights bore down into my nervous little soul as I breathed in and out praying that everything would be okay.

Hearing the music start I turned around with my huge smile and then I froze. Every single practice, every single rehearsal all left my memory. I was blank. All I could see was the black hole where the audience should be. What seemed like minutes to me was merely a moment to the audience before I started tapping my heart out. I, for the life of me, couldn’t remember the choreography so I made it up. I completed my performance without letting my smile slip off my face. I completed the competition with first place.

 ---

This moment in my life changed me in a very deep way. What started as me writing about the first time I performed by myself, turned into me realizing that I had a life shattering moment. This experience taught me that no matter what life throws at you, or changes, if you put a smile on your face and fight your way through it with the utmost confidence, and maybe making it up along the way, you’ll end up on top, or with a first place trophy and a ticket to Vegas.