down memory lane.

a song to set the scene // young forever by jay z

It was during my pre-show pee that memories came flooding back.

There I was, crouched in the stall of the bathroom at the high school, partaking in a routine that had not changed in 17 years.

The combination of that particular bathroom, mixed with hairspray, “sunshine” (sparkles applied to the top of a dancer’s hair before a show), and the very act of pulling down my leotard flooded me with memories past.

It felt like it had only been yesterday that I was getting ready for a dance show, nerves taking me to my familiar spot in the bathroom.

How had it been over a decade that I last danced like this?

But there I was, now getting ready to take the stage once again; this time, as an alumni dancer.

It was just over two weeks ago that I was contacted about performing in the company annual showcase as a veteran.

Honored, and slightly nervous, I accepted, and it’s been taking me down memory lane ever since.

Dusting off the old jazz shoes, getting reacquainted with my body, and applying makeup in the bathroom felt like riding that familiar bike.

It’s like my body never forgot.

Sure, I’m significantly older and my stamina isn’t quite what it used to be, but the muscle memory never left.

It’s funny, my initial thoughts about dancing in the show as an alum brought about insecurities about appearing as a has been dancer who never made it big.

But someone wise told me that the purpose of the alumni was to show the young dancers not that we were has been dancers who never made it big, but that dance never left us.

We were there to show them that no matter where life took them, their experiences performing stay with them, forever.

There’s a number at the end of the show that I get to watch before we go on.

In it, dancers hold various signs saying what dance means to them:

Friendship, Escape, For the Soul, My Body, Self-Expression, and a myriad of others speckle the stage.

For me, dance is forever.

It has, is, and it will continue to be a part of me for years to come.

And even though the hair grays, the flexibility flatlines, and the hips pop louder than they did 17 years ago, some things never change.

Like my pre-show pee.

Oh what a trip down memory lane.

oh bother.

a song to set the scene // winnie the pooh by disney studio chorus

l am convinced that anytime I go into a thrift store, there is something to be found.

Whether it’s squirrel figurines, men’s vintage ties, or a rhinestone brooch, it’s the thrill of hunting for that special something that keeps me returning, time and time again.

On this particular day, we were striking out.

Don’t get me wrong, we were finding things, but they weren’t the kind of items that knocked my socks off.

I was really hoping for that special something.

You know, the kind of treasure you see other people fainting over, the “holy grail” of the thrifts.

And so I wasn’t particularly optimistic when we pulled up to the last thrift store. It was in a sketchy part of town, and the boarded up windows and loitering individuals outside didn’t exactly scream: “there’s scores to be had inside!”

But you know what they say: never judge a book by its cover.

And this was no exception.

Cause the minute I walked in, I spied a crystal decanter.

Add to cart.

A little further down the way, a set of 6 Libbey glasses.

Add to cart.

Was that a Los Angeles Lakers beer stein?

Add to cart.

Now this was the kind of thrift store worth waiting for. 

As we continued ambling down the aisles, eyes scanning for that special something, my eyes fell upon the top shelf; where looking down at me, was a 1960’s Winnie the Pooh lamp.

Oh bother.

My jaw fell open and I quickly reached up and clasped this treasure.

Add to cart.

I knew, in that moment, that this was what I had been searching for all day. Without even looking for it, or knowing such a beauty existed, I had come upon a real special something.

Unfortunately, when I brought it home, I wasn’t met with the same enthusiastic vigor.

I believe the response was somewhere along the lines of: “unsavory to look at” and “ it’s something…”

Regardless, I proudly carried my Pooh lamp into the living room and made a home for it, appropriately naming the area “Pooh Corner.”

And that’s where the lamp’s new home is.

Sometimes, one woman’s trash is another woman’s something special.

That’s the beauty of thrifting; and if you’re patient, I guarantee you too will find something worth jaw dropping over.

For me, that something special is Pooh.