As a true addict, I have the uncanny ability to overdo anything I enjoy doing. Whether it is yoga, drinking, drugs or sex, if I fall in love with an activity, and it gets me out of my head for 5 minutes, I will do it for 1,440 minutes a day. Well, minus the minutes I spend asleep~which I also thoroughly enjoy. And as per my usual routine, I overdo it until I am sick of it. Until burned out, bored, or until I find something new to shut my mind off. Sometimes the things I overdo are unhealthy: drink, cocaine, mary jane (still the best broad I know). Sometimes the things I overdo are healthy: yoga, hiking, running… But wherever my heart takes hold, I always seem to go full steam ahead. Into the wild. Most of my friends are like this, and it makes sense that we are friends. One friend in particular does the exact same thing, getting into things and moving on from them like clockwork. His name is Bleeze.
Bleeze and I have been friends as long as I can remember. A few months ago I became very frustrated over his using in my presence. Now with a little time on my hands, all is forgiven, especially considering he doesn’t want to quit using anything and it is not my place to decide who should and shouldn’t use. Each man and woman deserves their own journey and who am I to take that from them? Oh the little addict, always trying to control people places and things.
Bleeze falls in and out of love with activities, but falls in love so hard that he devotes every spare moment and ounce of energy into the new love of his life. Perhaps I should be more specific. At the end of last year, Bleeze became obsessed with fishing. He always liked finding Nemo, going to the lake, chillin, drinkin a beer and casting a line, but something clicked in him beginning of this year and it was ON. He bought himself a little boat, one that closely resembled a raft, and every morning would wake around 5:00 to hit the open waters of San Diego. Sometimes he would go bayside, sometimes just down the street from where he lived. As long as he was on the water he was happy. This continued for about 4-5 months. Slowly the obsession turned from the actual act of fishing to actually owning fish. All his time and energy went into a saltwater tank, filled with cool colored little animals with tentacles and gills. He would talk to the tank, watch it open as the day came in and close as the world fell asleep. A little expensive, but still, his love, his joy, his tank. The raft began to gather dust and the fresh fish in his freezer, caught straight from the pacific, began to dwindle. I spoke with him today, and it’s no longer talk of fish, or starfish, or a PH balance. No. Now he is onto internet poker. Insists he will ball until he falls. Each time the shift takes place, I laugh. Such a little Bleeze.
I do the same thing. Two years ago, when I am healthy, and taking care of myself, it’s healthy activities. When I’m sick and not taking care of myself, its drink and drugs. Two years ago, it was bikram yoga. I went nuts. Every day. Sometimes twice a day. Considered doing the teacher training, but due to the fact that you must live a healthy life, including no pot smoking or porn scenes hahah, I said screw it, moved back to LA and surrounded myself with pornography. Then it was a guy. and Sex with that guy. Then it was directing. Then running the studio. The whole time, drinking like a little wild woman, and smoking pot like it grew out of my ass.
Now, I can easily see myself falling into the addictive behavior with dance. My love. But self awareness is such a bitch….and as it turns out, she is also my friend. I, for the first time since I was 11, attempted to take two classes in one day. two and a half solid hours of dance. Hour break in between. But none the less, that’s a lotta dancing. Halfway through the second class, my little steam engine ran out. This little engine just could not. One because my body physically could not handle it, and two because my brain had quit working properly and would not send the proper signals to the proper body parts to do the proper moves and I quickly turned into so you think you can’t dance. And to top it off, it was an open class, with a ton of really talented people. A few funny things about this situation…all because of that bitch named self awareness I had mentioned.
When I felt my body shutting down, and my brain powering off, I couldn’t help but laugh. Our bodies natural defenses against… well… ourselves. There is a cut off point. I had always been too high to feel it.
When I couldn’t get the moves down, I realized more beginners classes are an order. But I wasn’t down on myself for it. In fact, I’m surprisingly okay with moving back into the beginners classes because it’s important to have full control over my body before I jump into situations where I’m expected to already control this out of control love vessel. Today is the first day I’ve been okay with not being perfect. In fact, I’m looking forward to starting from scratch. At least medium scratch.
This is something that will be physically impossible for me to jump in with my usual addict aggression. After two classes, already my little muscles are crying for help. For a nice massage. For a good nights sleep and a day of rest. So that’s what I’m going to take tomorrow.
So I think this is what they call progress. Knowing my limits, being okay with them, being excited to out grow them, but in healthy ways. Now if only Bleeze would become obsessed with school instead of poker, he might finish….
Becoming Jennie 
Posted on September 2, 2009