our best.
in I Lift My Eyes Up, Thoughts and Feelings
as belly, bests, dancing, dancing feet, disappointment, everybody, God, Jess, Low, messes, offensive word, question, resilience, ridiculousness, shifting sands, something, stomach, version, wonder
We’re all just trying our best.
I try to remember that.
Even when I am talking to my friend late at night; we’re laughing about the latest ridiculousness one of us has come across and suddenly I’m crying.
I’m asking that question that everybody tries to encourage right out of me.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Jess,” they say.
But I wonder.
Anyway.
I wonder.
And then I try to remember this:
We’re all just trying our best.
And sometimes our bests don’t match up.
His or her best can look real bad from where I’m standing.
Disappointing.
To me, I mean.
But then I swallow it down.
I’ve tasted worse, I think.
I swallow it down and then I feel it settle into my stomach.
And all that disappointment in my stomach pulls on my heart until, eventually, it settles down there, too.
And maybe that’s why we sometimes say we’re feeling low.
Cause all that disappointment and every bit of my heart now, too–it’s all low down in my belly.
And I swallow again so as not to say an offensive word.
But it’s okay.
And I still try my best.
Just like we all do.
Or at least I’m gonna believe that we do.
And something else.
I don’t stay here.
Low.
Not anymore.
I am astounded by the resilience of us all.
By our ability to evolve with the world around us; to learn to step gingerly–even gracefully–with the shifting sands ever underneath our dancing feet.
And God.
Not even just around us.
Not even above us, so much.
But within us.
Inconceivably.
Changing our best to something much better than the small and dreamless messes we manage to make again and again.
Pulling us from low and setting us onto something higher than we knew.
Making our own version of the best into something that actually is the best.
give me a costume and some music and I’m good.
in Performance
as Backstreet, backstreet boy, belly, bun, choreographer, furry, hand, hand motions, insult to injury, Jase, kind, little sister, mascot, nutcracker, Philly, show, sister-in-law, slits, way
You guys, I can’t help it: I love a good costume.
Which is a good thing, cause I’ve worn a lot.
I must say that the absolute worst costume I’ve worn was some kind of huge animal. It was either a bunny or a bear, I think. It was like I was a mascot, only I am pretty sure the Philly Phanatic makes way more than I made for that show. And to add insult to injury, I was supposed to be a talking animal. Only the mouth on the big head that I wore didn’t move. At all. So the choreographer made me bounce my head up and down, up and down, nodding along with the words I was supposedly saying. Read: instant headache. And then my choreographer was like, “I don’t think it’s enough; let’s give you hand motions too.” And so I was the worst little Backstreet Boy Bunny there was, complete with my hand motions and my nodding and my big furry belly.
And Jase, my brother, came to the show. I am not sure why, but he was there. And through the eye slits I could see him and he looked embarrassed for me. Which made me more embarrassed, cause if you suspect that what you’re doing is degrading and then you see that the audience even looks uncomfortable and like they wish their little sister didn’t have to be a nodding, hand-motioning, bunny on stage, then your suspicion quickly turns to conviction.
But tonight I got to try on a costume for the Nutcracker, cause I am doing a production around here. I’m gonna do the Arabian variation and I have to say, I had to pretend not to be quite as happy as I was while I wore the sparkly red chiffon pants and little top. And my sister-in-law Sunshine is directing it and basically told me that I could do whatever I want with it. As long as my bangs are back and my hair is in a bun, she did stipulate.
Oh, and there will be many jewels, too, from what I hear. In my hair and on my belly. I suppose since I don’t look Arab AT ALL, all those jewels might just distract the audience from that fact and it will go something like this:
audience member: “but she’s not Ar–Ooooooooh…pretty, shiny, sparkly jewels…”
And man, it was fun to dance and wear a costume tonight.
i’ll be in your eighties cover band, sure.
in Funny Stuff, photography
as bathroom, belly, curling iron, fairy, flock of seagulls, hair, hairspray, nice, reunion tour, second cousin, time, way, wedding singer
Some mornings are more glorious than others. They all start the same way, mostly. I generally get so hungry that I am reduced to opening my eyes. Nice and slow. Maybe even one at a time. But about being hungry–every morning I wake up to a belly that acts like I’ve never put anything in [...]
