Sunday, February 11, 2007

I am Bad at being Sick.

Yesterday I felt under the weather, and by this morning I woke up with a head that was filled with glue. Glue that weighed a few hundred pounds. Today's original agenda was class from 11am-2pm, class show from 5pm-6:30pm, work from 6:30-midnight. My amended agenda is me lying on my couch watching the Slings and Arrows marathon on Sundance. (Even when sick I prefer quality television.)

It is 4pm and I only just called off my class show and work. I always refuse to believe that I am actually sick. When I woke up at 9:30am it was pretty clear that I had to stay in bed, but between doses of Nyquil, Emergen-C, Echinacea, and Zinc, I started to feel passably well...Something I have learned to recognize as dangerous because I will work under the assumption that I am really fine and not only go perform, work, and have a few drinks, but I will run a few miles and clean my house just to prove how well I really am. Which will then put me into a coma for three days.

So I am "relaxing" instead of being productive, and writing this meaningless post.

So today, a very quick one, as part of my 30 Day Challenge:

I was a roller disco queen.

When I was 8, there was a huge roller disco craze. My best friend, Olivia, and her beautiful exotic fashion-designer mom, Carola, and I would go to the Metropolis roller rink on West 18th Street. Carola would make us roller skating clothes: shiny spandex pants and headbands, velour sweatshirts etc. (I realize that I desperately need to get a scanner because I have pics from this era that are amazing). We went every Saturday afternoon and I LOVED it. There was an area in the center where you could do tricks and practice doing rollerskate pirhouetttes and I would spend hours practicing jumps and turns. A skill that hasn't gotten me anywhere, but was super enjoyable at the time.

My birthday parties in elementary school were all held at the Roxy, which I think is still around as a nightclub, but back then was exclusively a roller rink. It was considered super cool to have your birthday there, especially since the DJ would yell out your name, which makes you feel like rollerdisco queen of the universe when you are 8. I remember liking the Roxy, but loving Metropolis, which was smaller, more intimate, and less crowded. Even at a young age I enjoyed smaller mom and pop operations.

My friend Manray, who I met many years later, told me that he was a DJ at the Roxy when he first came to NY at 17. As Manray is about 9 years older then me, we figured out that he was probably the DJ yelling out my name at my 8th Birthday party. Small World.


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