Wedding Dresses

No... this is not what you think it is.

While one of my guilty pleasures is buying and pouring through Martha Stewart Wedding magazines (you should see my collection!), this post will not be about those beautiful immaculate dresses that every little girl (and old girl...) fantasizes about.

It will be about dresses, weddings and the non-color white.

That doesn't really sound much different. Let me explain...

So one of my best friends is getting married in a month and 2 days and I am so excited. This means 3 things:

1. One amazing PARTY!!!
2. One less friend I can hide behind during the bouquet toss.
3. One new dress!

You see, being a total dress freak (you should see my closet), it is customary that I purchase a new dress to celebrate the "sending off," if you will, of each of my good friends from land of "singlehood" to that of "wedded bliss."

Weddings are full of traditions and this is mine to add to the mix. Feel free to subscribe to it if you like - I won't mind.

There's only one drawback to this tradition of mine: My choice of dresses is slightly constrained.

You see this new tradition comes head-to-head with a very strict rule of wedding guest etiquette:

"Do NOT wear white to a wedding."

I have a problem with this because in summer, there are so many adorable white sun dresses that scream, "JESSIKA! Buy me!" It's almost as if some inexplicable magnetic force draws me to them. And yet, however cute or flattering they are, they must be axed from the list of potentials.

So here are this years rejects by default, courtesy of Anthropologie a.k.a. my wardrobe supplier.

Food, food, glorious food!

Today, as I was crossing the 520 bridge on my way to work, I found myself contemplating my many paradoxical characteristics... I'll give you one:

I love to cook, and yet I hate to cook for myself.

I think most of you can relate to this. Needless to say I don't really cook much these days. But this doesn't negate the fact that I thoroughly enjoy good food, especially a well crafted meal.

So what's a single girl to do in such a predicament? Dozens of dates? Ha ha... I'm so funny... (this is me we're talking about...)

But praise the Lord I live in Seattle, home of foodies galore, amazing chefs and their restaurants! With this palate paradise awaiting me, I will occasionally treat myself to an evening out - a date of sorts with me, myself and my journal for company.

So where to go?

The criteria list is a short one, but oh so important:

1. Good food.
2. Good ambiance.
3. Good people-watching.

And I have been craving one place that not only checks off these three essential elements, but takes all my senses to a "happy place" if you will.

It's Spur Gastropub, self-described as "An Intimate Urban Pub in Belltown. Plates to Share. Cocktails to Entice."

This "urban pub" is small, but dressed in casual, industrial elegance. With it's slate blue tones, wooden slab tables, and warm candlelight it creates an inviting and relaxed environment to retreat to after a long day's work, wether it be for just a drink or a stomach-satisfying meal.

And with award-winning chefs Brian McCracken and Dana Tough at the helm, your tastebuds are in for quite the ride! Using farm-fresh, local and seasonal ingredients to inspire their unpretentious culinary creations, it's hard to know just what to order...

Cattail Creek Lamb Saddle with potato, yogurt and spring vegetables?

Pan seared trout with quinoa, carrots and almond milk?

Or how about the favorite Pork Belly Sliders with corn, ramps and bourbon...

My suggestion? Either go with friends or go often. On second thought, forget the "Either" and "or" part of that statement. Just go!!!! Your senses will thank you.

To find out more information about this amazing restaurant and their current menu check out their blog here. Reserve your table now!

Images by Matthew and Julien can be found here and here courtesy of urbanspoon.com.

An appropriate poem...

This was a favorite poem of mine when I was a little girl. My Momma used to read it to my brother and I at bedtime. It was in a sweet book - I think it was titled Tall Tales and Other Stories. I remember this because the book itself was tall - long and skinny complete with vintage illustrations. One of these days I'm gonna have to dig that book up...
Anyway at 2am this poem is quiet appropriate.


Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea---
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod (Dutch Lullaby)
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)
Illustration by Fern Bisel Peat

http://www.theseesawgallery.com/catdetailwinkin.htm

http://learning2share.blogspot.com/2008/02/fern-bisel-peat-book-illustrations-from.html

Expectations...

Expectations. Expectancy. Expect.
Words.
I hear them. I use them. I understand them.
But do I? Do you?
The older I get, the more uncertain I am when it comes to the concept of expectations - of living life in expectancy.

The past two weeks have been full of new opportunities at work. At the end of this season I will dancing a new role in our 8 Encores performance, as well as going on a small tour with the company to the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. to perform Benjamin Millipied's 3 Movements. And then if that weren't enough, today I found out that I will also get to perform the part of Swanhilda's friend in Balanchine's Coppelia that I've been "learning."
Needless to say, all of these opportunities have been very unexpected.

As I was cleaning out my purse in prep for my NYC weekend, I found a Thank You card from my Women's Minister at the Body. On the envelope she wrote below my name:

Real Life...

Living In Full Expectancy...

of what God can & will do!

This is not the first time (nor will it be the last time) I've heard this message spoken personally into my life. Over the years numerous people have encouraged me by saying that they can't wait to see how God's going to use me - that He has great things in store for my life. And I can't say that I don't believe them. I do. It's just that my whole life I've believed a certain lie... A lie that's probably not unfamiliar to you:

"Don't get your hopes up, because the minute you do, you're sure to be disappointed."

Essentially the message (the lie) is to never expect anything because then you'll never be disappointed - you'll never get hurt. If something good happens, it's a pleasant surprise... but never expect the good things.
Not only has this acted as a protection mechanism in my life, but, as I'm now realizing through my Interpersonal Communications course, a self-fulfilling prophesy as well.
If I expect nothing, I will get nothing. No pain, and no gain. In a sense life lives me.
Sure I've kept myself from getting "burned," but in this self-protecting pride I've also shut out the blessings of the Lord. I've put Him in a box, keeping Him from being both my Protector and my Provider.

So I've been trying to live life in "full expectancy" as the card said. To dream. To hope. To expect. To pray like Psalm 5:3. To thankfully present my requests to the God who "is able to do immeasurably more than [I] can ask or imagine, according to His power within [me]."

And then things happen in my life that make me wonder... Like when I finally do allow myself to expect - regarding casting and ballet roles (roles that I should be dancing) - and those expectations are unmet despite all my prayers, struggles and strivings. But when I expect nothing - like this current situation of abundant performance opportunities - I seem to receive, and then some...
These experiences would appear to confirm the lie that I've believed for so long, not the concept of living in expectancy. But if I take a closer look at that verse I quoted above, therein I find the answer: "according to His power."
It's according to Him, not me. I live life in eager expectancy according to His will, His plan and His power, not my own. So, expectancy is rooted in the One in whom my hope is found, and not in the object or desire that's "expected." I hold tightly to expectancy and loosely to that which I expect.
This is the life lived in full expectancy. This is a life full of joy and hope. This is real LIFE.

Expectations... Are you living real life or is life living you?

Ch-ch-changes & Resolutions

Well it's official.
I suck at blogging. I would also say that I suck at life, but that's a lie, so I'll say that currently I feel like I suck at life.

This move has been an endless abyss of boxes. A black hole, if you will, sucking away my time, my life and my relationships (or lack there of).

Anyway, we said our final good-bye to 465, Wednesday May 12th, 2010.
So now it's out with the old and on with the new...
And with that said I feel that I too need a fresh start. Who cares that it's the middle of May! Why do I need to wait till Jan 1 roles around to make a new beginning... to make some resolutions (which I'm sure I will break at some point...)?

The answer is I don't have to wait.
Resolution #1: To blog at least once a week.

There. I said it.

"But what about resolution #2, 3 & 4?" you might ask... Well those are reserved for their proper place... my journal.

And with it now being Monday (at 12:34am), my minimum quota for this week has been met.
But I'm sure I'll be posting some great pics of my weekend getaway to NYC, and my dear baby brother who, come Friday afternoon will have his Masters Degree from The Juilliard School. Can you tell I'm proud?

Ch-ch-changes... what can I say?

Things I will miss

It's been a crazy couple weeks.
Recovering from the stomach flu.
Finishing up the All Balanchine Rep.
Catching up on my Interpersonal Communications course.
And packing. Packing. Packing.

You see on Sunday we will be moving - that is, my parents and I will be moving. Our home finally sold (it's been on and off the market for I think 3 years?) and after 23 years of living in this beautiful place we will be saying good-bye for good.
It's been quite the whirlwind the past two weeks with Mom and Dad "burning the midnight oil" as they tirelessly work to remodel our new home we'll be moving in to, ready or not.
Having three weeks off from work, I therefore took it upon myself to pack up our entire home, and believe me it's had its overwhelming moments... With it's unlimited storage space, and the fact that we've had this space available for the past 23 years, it's an understatement when I say that we've accumulated a lot of "stuff." And having a sentimental (a.k.a. pack-rat) father doesn't help the situation either. Needless to say I've sorted, I've tossed, I've boxed, I've packed and I've taped more than I ever wish to in this lifetime. If I never saw a moving box again it would still be too soon.
Typically sorting through and packing up our old photos, artwork, report cards, belongings - shoot, even kitchen utensils - triggers fond memories and stories, but with the mad dash that this move has been thus far, it's left little time to reminisce.
So, five days away from the big adieu, with our home looking more and more like a bare and empty house I'm realizing how desperately I'm going to miss it.

Here's a list of things I will miss:

• Waking up to the chorus of birds chirping, singing and buzzing about.
• The Katsura trees - their branches softly waving and leaves shimmering in the wind.
• The way the house was immaculately decorated at Christmas-time, and opening presents in the Fireplace alcove.
• Having friends and family over for dinner with everyone congregating in the kitchen, seated at the bar watching Daddy cook.
• The guest room shower and it's amazing shower head and water pressure.
• Our beautiful deck that's been a stage for many a talent show, a 50th Birthday party dance floor, a summer home for the WC College Group, and provided countless hours of sun-bathing and BBQing.
• My room.
• Walking up to Mom's beautifully decorated Birthday table in the kitchen.
• The amazing wildlife that made our home in the middle of Bellevue seem like it was in the middle of nowhere. A special thank you to all the quail, pheasants, rabbits, coyotes and deer that enriched our lives.
• Hearing the coyotes howl and yelp in the middle of the night. SO cool!!!!
• And most of all, the sunsets... Oh those beautiful sunsets!

I have been blessed beyond measure to grow up in such a beautiful and wonderful home, but truthfully home is not about a building or structure, but about the things that happen within it... the people, the love, the lessons, the life and the memories we create with in it together. So, as I leave this home I look forward to the day (hopefully soon!) when I will be able to create all of these things in my very own home.

How lovely is your dwelling place,
O LORD Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the LORD;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home,
and the swallow a nest for herself,
where she may have her young—
a place near your altar,
O LORD Almighty, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in your house;
they are ever praising you.
Selah
Psalm 84:1-4

Game Over

Can it be?! Am I really writing something for this long lost blog? I didn't disappear off this the face of the earth?

Well... almost.

Just Jessika has been just a mess.

Dancing in 2010 has been quite the roller coaster. From old-school ultra-classical Sleeping Beauty to barefoot and body-bruising Vespers in the 3 by Dove program my body's gone through quite the gamut. And while Vespers was an incredibly challenging and rewarding experience (which maybe if I can get my act together I'll tell you all about...), the beautiful "ballet body" - i.e. long lean legs - I'd worked so hard to achieve during Nutcracker and Sleeping Beauty had morphed into something else. Something I didn't like. And with the All Balanchine program (including the pink tights and black leo costumed ballet The Four Temperaments) quickly approaching, I quickly began to freak out...

You see I stand in front of mirrors. All. Day. Long.
Sounds like fun, huh?
Not only that, but I'm surrounded by dozens of beautiful skinny-mini ballerinas scantily clad in leotards and tights. This is the environment I grew up in. This is the environment I live in every day. And believe me it's so easy to begin comparing yourself to others, and so hard to not feel self-conscious about your body. In a profession where you strive toward a perfect (and unattainable) aesthetic ideal, it's easy to get caught up in the "If only..." game.

If only I were 5 pounds thinner... If only my turnout were better... If only I had skinnier legs and prettier feet...

The list goes on. Pretty soon all you see when you look in the mirror is a "punch list" - all the things that are wrong and need fixing. The longer you play the game the worse it gets. You begin to hate what you see in the mirror. And then comes a point when you don't see anything at all - you can't even look in the mirror anymore. Your vision blurs as soon as you get too close so that the reflection staring back at you is hazy and dim.
I would know. I've been there. I've played the game.
But I hated the game. I tried to quit so many times by addressing the "punch list," through diets and exercise, but these temporary superficial fixes only drew me back in. It wasn't until I came to the point where I hated the fact that I hated myself more than hating what I saw in the mirror that I was finally released.
I wanted to love the woman that God made me to be. He created me, His unique masterpiece to be just as I am. He thinks I'm beautiful, so why don't I?!
So why don't I? I realized that I put my worth in my weight, in my looks and not in who I am: a daughter of the Most High God, created in His image, worthy not because of what I do, or how I look, but because I am His.
It's been a slow process building on and asserting that worth, as I try to lead a balanced and surrendered life, instead of one that yo-yos back and forth, "managed" on my own and in my own strength. Therefore I'm ashamed to say that after all this progress I've made I succumbed to the "If Only" game again as the reality of pink tights and the All Balanchine Rep loomed before me. My eyes and my arms wandered from Christ, the anchor of my identity, to the idol of skinny thighs, and as I let go of Him I began to drown. My arms flailed as I tried to keep myself afloat; as I tried to control the situation.
And what does God do to the proud?
He gives them the stomach flu on the Monday of our opening performance week. And boy was I ever humbled before Him! But praise Him He is SO faithful! He showed me such grace and lifted me up in His perfect timing as I repented of my idolatry and laid myself before Him. Once again I found myself in Him, and I did cast all my anxiety on Him because oh how He does care for me!
What a blessed and absolutely miraculous opening weekend it was! Pink tights and all.

"'God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.' Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you." 1 Peter 5:5-7