Unpacking

Definition of unpack: transitive verb 1a: to remove the contents of unpack a suitcase. b: UNBURDENREVEAL … unpack my heart with words— William Shakespeare. Yes, and…both.

The suitcase in the pic below holds the contents of seven years of my life. It has been sitting in my hallway for almost two months, ever since I cleaned out my cubicle at Joffrey. It haunts me. I am afraid of it. I know when I open and unload its contents that means my time at Joffrey is really over.

Dramatic and cliche, but it has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Extreme highs and lows: one of my best friends and mentor dressed up like a glittery princess and read my book for an LGBTQ family charity – I watched it on my way downtown to clean out my desk; I announced I’m launching a podcast – as I received my final paycheck; I had a really great, creative idea – then realized my insurance runs out on Tuesday. No way around the fact that losing your job fucking sucks. I count myself lucky to have worked with some truly amazing and compassionate people. I miss them daily.

As I dive into projects (freelance writing, blogging, launching the podcast, selling my children’s book, printing a coloring book – more to come on these things later!), I’m also navigating a mountain of paperwork (I hate adulting!) and the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. My job was quite literally my life for seven years and the grief of losing it is very real. At almost eight weeks out, I find myself bobbing between depression and acceptance. Perhaps unpacking that suitcase will be the closure I need.

The Bitch Is Back

Hiiiiieeeeee! It’s me. Rogue. It’s been a while…almost four years since my last post and since 2013 they have been few and far between. I suddenly find myself with a LOT of time on my hands, so look out. The Bitch Is Back. (Sorry Mom, but it’s kind of my brand.)

Rogue at Dance For Life. Photo by Todd Rosenberg.

For the last seven years, I worked in the Marketing department at The Joffrey Ballet. It was the most challenging, difficult, amazing, and rewarding experience of my professional work life. Some of those memories I hope to reflect on in this space. To have that suddenly gone is personally devastating, but hopefully soon, the grieving process will end and I will be left with only happy memories (read: unlimited viewings of The Nutcracker!).

I’ve spent most of my life in some way dedicated to dance as a dancer, teacher, administrator, writer, critic, marketer, and patron. It’s what I love. So, heads up! If you’re involved in the dance community in Chicago, the U.S. or abroad, I will be reaching out for interviews. I’m almost 52, and I have a lot of shit left to do. Let’s get to it. Go rogue.