Mood: Happy
Theme Song: "Flipside" - Moloko
I'm watching the latest season of "Got To Dance" - basically the UK equivalent of So You Think You Can Dance - and I can't help but be amazed by the vast difference between what is considered "good" dancing in the UK, and what we think is good back in America. I find it to be pretty consistent when dealing with established forms of dance - salsa, lyrical, ballet, ballroom. It's when people come out and try to "street dance" or freestyle that my eyes start burning.
I'm honestly not trying to poke fun here - I really don't understand how certain things are considered "good dancing" or "rhythmic". I know that England is an island, but they get MTV and they are highly influenced by American culture. What they appear to not be influenced by is the ability to stay on beat or "feel" the music. I've just watched a series of dancers come on the stage, jerk around like they have epilepsy but because they "pop" some part of their body or wear a hoody and jeans, they are lauded as being "real" and "street".
I am not exaggerating when I say that I've given better performances drunk in the middle of the street. The whole thing leaves me rather frustrated, and frankly, speechless. I'm really hoping that some of my English friends will read this and try to explain. Because I don't get it. A beat is a beat. You're either on it, or off it. Mimicking a video and throwing up a lot of rapper hand gestures does not make you a dancer. Hell, I do that five days out of seven for no reason when I'm waiting for my train. You don't see me trying to win money on a TV show.
American friends, do me a favor. Check out this dance troupe - and give me your honest opinion. Am I being too harsh? Have I just been away from home too long? They won the title in 2009 and are universally lauded as being real "hip-hop" dancers. To me, they look like mediocre extras from a late 80s Janet Jackson video. The little kid is cute, but I bet there are any number of 4-6 year olds in any neighborhood in America who would clean his clock without thinking twice.
I made a resolution last year to stop making fun of England, and I think it's a good one. Rather than make fun, I am really trying to understand the culture. It's just hard when I encounter things like this - where there is such a HUGE gap between what I see as reality and what the Brits accept. Although, in thinking about it, what most Americans think about England is really, really incorrect so maybe it's just fair play.
I welcome your thoughts.
Now, seeing as how anyone and their grandma can get on this TV show, I'm off to practice my moves so I'm ready for the next round of auditions... =)
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
One Year Anniversary
Mood: Contemplative
Theme Song: "Theme Song to Laverne and Shirley"
Happy One Year in England to me!
As of yesterday, I have been living in England for exactly one year. And while I'd like to say "Oh my god, it went by so fast!", the truth is that I felt every single minute and every single day. I think it's fair to say that 2010 was by far the most challenging, frustrating, and yet amazing year of my life. And while there were days when I didn't want to leave my bed, let alone my apartment, I wouldn't trade the past 365 days for anything in the world.
Moving to England has been by far the best thing I have ever done for myself - better even than that time I allowed myself to eat $100 worth of sushi. This experience has pushed me far past all of my comfort zone and way beyond my normal boundaries. And all I can say, even as I'm still nursing some bumps and bruises, is how grateful I am for having this opportunity.
I began this blog as a way of chronicling my adventures overseas, but I had no idea what a wonderful time capsule it would be, and what a great mirror into myself. A year into this, I am confident I could now live anywhere in the world, English-speaking or not. (In fact, I wager that it would be somewhat easier to live in Japan or Russia or Kabul because I would immediately expect things to be different. In England it's hard because the language is the same and so many other things are the same and so the differences really, really stick out and surprise.) The idea of starting over again doesn't scare me or worry me - in fact, it thrills me a bit if I'm honest. I've learned, truly, that life is what you make it. I can make friends anywhere and I can live my best life anywhere on this planet (or beyond). It's all down to me.
I could spend ages writing about all the things I've learned this year - tangible things (like how to navigate the English system or things I learned about Asia) - and I'm eventually will. But what is on my mind right now are the intangible things I've learned.
If an unhappiness follows you from one country to another, then you can't blame it on anything outside yourself. I learned that I was carrying a tremendous amount of baggage that was weighing me down, emotionally, mentally, and even physically (sad people don't get out much and so they're not in the best health).
Being isolated from your friends and family forces you to deal with certain things all on your own, and to abandon what would normally be cause for a full-on pity party. I think the best example of this was this past Christmas. I went into a full-on emotional tailspin because I was away from home, away from my friends. I literally spent four hours one night just curled up in a ball and crying. I say that not to elicit sympathy but to point out the ridiculousness of my behavior. I think had I been back home or more comfortable in my surroundings, I never would have snapped out of that funk. As it was, I had no choice but to face myself in the mirror and lay down the law. While it's okay to be sad every now and then, feeling sorry for myself gets me nowhere. It's a vicious cycle with no positive end.
Being in a new place where you need to make new friends forces you to really see yourself and really think about the kind of people you want in your life. I spent the first part of the year trying to be friends with anyone I could, and accepting dates haphazardly because I was - quite frankly - lonely. As I settled down, and began to know myself more, I realised that there are no hard and fast rules about these things. I needed to trust my gut - and realise some hard truths about myself. I'm picky, I'm demanding, I'm not going to be friends with everyone. I will always have many, many acquaintances - because I'm that crazy social extrovert who is doing the Centipede at group gatherings for no reason - but those who will be my friends, and those who could be something more - will always be few.
Being in a different time zone than most of your friends and family also forces you to have more detailed conversations with yourself - and to actually listen to what that voice inside your head is saying. And sometimes it doesn't make very much sense at all. In fact, sometimes that voice inside your head is speaking an entirely different language. This past year has allowed me to become fluent in my own language, and more importantly, to know when I'm feeding myself a line of bull. ;) Having that filter has also helped me to clearly define what I do and don't want from myself and what I deserve from friendships, career, relationships. The more I course-correct and add a "don't do that!" to my list, the more I learn and grow.
I think the biggest lesson I've learned between pre-England me and me now is confidence. I've always felt strongly about my abilities, but it has taken the daily battering of navigating a new country and culture to force me to have a better understanding of myself. It's a bit frightening, but I really feel as if this past year was when I finally... FINALLY... became an adult. A really fun, crazy, and completely impractical adult - but a grown-up nevertheless.
I realised the other day that I have finally stopped comparing everything to America, and that I don't immediately convert £ into $ in my head anymore. I have finally come to terms that England is not America and never will be, and if I can just get over that fact, I can begin to appreciate all of the wonderful things this country has to offer. I had cocktails in the May Fair bar in Westminster the other day, and it was fabulous to sit on a plush sofa drinking an overpriced vanilla martini and listen to the hilarious conversations of the nouveau-riche. London had better brace itself, because I'm all in for 2011.
I am so looking forward to the next 12 months. Life is truly what we make of it, and I intend to make this year absolutely stellar. When I write about my second anniversary in England, I hope that it is with happiness and joy and a huge smile, as I'm looking back at amazing adventures with amazing people. I also hope that I will finally have mastered the Soulja Boy dance, but I probably shouldn't get ahead of myself just yet... ;)
Federman out.
Theme Song: "Theme Song to Laverne and Shirley"
Happy One Year in England to me!
Moving to England has been by far the best thing I have ever done for myself - better even than that time I allowed myself to eat $100 worth of sushi. This experience has pushed me far past all of my comfort zone and way beyond my normal boundaries. And all I can say, even as I'm still nursing some bumps and bruises, is how grateful I am for having this opportunity.
I began this blog as a way of chronicling my adventures overseas, but I had no idea what a wonderful time capsule it would be, and what a great mirror into myself. A year into this, I am confident I could now live anywhere in the world, English-speaking or not. (In fact, I wager that it would be somewhat easier to live in Japan or Russia or Kabul because I would immediately expect things to be different. In England it's hard because the language is the same and so many other things are the same and so the differences really, really stick out and surprise.) The idea of starting over again doesn't scare me or worry me - in fact, it thrills me a bit if I'm honest. I've learned, truly, that life is what you make it. I can make friends anywhere and I can live my best life anywhere on this planet (or beyond). It's all down to me.
I could spend ages writing about all the things I've learned this year - tangible things (like how to navigate the English system or things I learned about Asia) - and I'm eventually will. But what is on my mind right now are the intangible things I've learned.
If an unhappiness follows you from one country to another, then you can't blame it on anything outside yourself. I learned that I was carrying a tremendous amount of baggage that was weighing me down, emotionally, mentally, and even physically (sad people don't get out much and so they're not in the best health).
Being isolated from your friends and family forces you to deal with certain things all on your own, and to abandon what would normally be cause for a full-on pity party. I think the best example of this was this past Christmas. I went into a full-on emotional tailspin because I was away from home, away from my friends. I literally spent four hours one night just curled up in a ball and crying. I say that not to elicit sympathy but to point out the ridiculousness of my behavior. I think had I been back home or more comfortable in my surroundings, I never would have snapped out of that funk. As it was, I had no choice but to face myself in the mirror and lay down the law. While it's okay to be sad every now and then, feeling sorry for myself gets me nowhere. It's a vicious cycle with no positive end.
Being in a new place where you need to make new friends forces you to really see yourself and really think about the kind of people you want in your life. I spent the first part of the year trying to be friends with anyone I could, and accepting dates haphazardly because I was - quite frankly - lonely. As I settled down, and began to know myself more, I realised that there are no hard and fast rules about these things. I needed to trust my gut - and realise some hard truths about myself. I'm picky, I'm demanding, I'm not going to be friends with everyone. I will always have many, many acquaintances - because I'm that crazy social extrovert who is doing the Centipede at group gatherings for no reason - but those who will be my friends, and those who could be something more - will always be few.
Being in a different time zone than most of your friends and family also forces you to have more detailed conversations with yourself - and to actually listen to what that voice inside your head is saying. And sometimes it doesn't make very much sense at all. In fact, sometimes that voice inside your head is speaking an entirely different language. This past year has allowed me to become fluent in my own language, and more importantly, to know when I'm feeding myself a line of bull. ;) Having that filter has also helped me to clearly define what I do and don't want from myself and what I deserve from friendships, career, relationships. The more I course-correct and add a "don't do that!" to my list, the more I learn and grow.
I think the biggest lesson I've learned between pre-England me and me now is confidence. I've always felt strongly about my abilities, but it has taken the daily battering of navigating a new country and culture to force me to have a better understanding of myself. It's a bit frightening, but I really feel as if this past year was when I finally... FINALLY... became an adult. A really fun, crazy, and completely impractical adult - but a grown-up nevertheless.
I realised the other day that I have finally stopped comparing everything to America, and that I don't immediately convert £ into $ in my head anymore. I have finally come to terms that England is not America and never will be, and if I can just get over that fact, I can begin to appreciate all of the wonderful things this country has to offer. I had cocktails in the May Fair bar in Westminster the other day, and it was fabulous to sit on a plush sofa drinking an overpriced vanilla martini and listen to the hilarious conversations of the nouveau-riche. London had better brace itself, because I'm all in for 2011.
I am so looking forward to the next 12 months. Life is truly what we make of it, and I intend to make this year absolutely stellar. When I write about my second anniversary in England, I hope that it is with happiness and joy and a huge smile, as I'm looking back at amazing adventures with amazing people. I also hope that I will finally have mastered the Soulja Boy dance, but I probably shouldn't get ahead of myself just yet... ;)
Federman out.
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