DIY Wall Mounted Table

 My laundry situation is a pile... of MESS.

Truly evaluating why, I realize that it's because I bring the clean laundry out of the laundry room and into the living area of our house to fold... yet, I don't really have an assigned location to do so. 

Skipping excuses - I have just decided that when I'm in "laundry mode," I need to do laundry (get this) In. The. Laundry. Room!

This past weekend I did something that I haven't done in - well, let's count the years. I promised Dave that I wouldn't touch a saw while pregnant. Our son is seven years old, and after making that promise while pregnant with him, I just... was busy.

Back to this weekend. I used a table saw, hand saw, screwdriver, drill, and elbow grease to make myself a wall-mounted (correction: door-mounted) folding table. And DIYing felt sooooo good!

I remembered my grandma having had a wall-mounted table in her kitchen, and when seeking solutions to my laundry-pile-mess I thought back to that table. Hers was a lift-up wall-mounted table. I needed a pull-down due to the door handle. Surprisingly, there weren't too many options online. (There are individual sellers on sites like Etsy. No shade to them! I just wanted this table now. No waiting. No shipping.)

I'm journaling the project for future reference.

This is truly my first DIY project since living in this house. Our house. And there will be more!

MATERIALS:

47.75" x 23.75" x .65" white MDF shelf board (in actuality, it's 5/8 thick) - $20
1" x 4" PVC trim board (in actuality, it's 3/4" thick and 3 1/2" wide) - $20
1" x 2" PVC trim board (in actuality, it's 1 1/2" x 5/8" thick) - $6
Edgemate white iron-on edge tape - $9
1 1/2" x 30" piano hinge - $14
2 1/2" hinge - $5
Everbilt white steel window sash lock - $3
Clear Gloss Enamel spray paint - $6
2 1/4" PVC trim screw white

PROCESS:

Measure. Measure. Measure.

this table needed a brace on the bottom. A frame on the top to house the lock. I also needed to consider the length of the table, how much room I would have behind me while folding, how long the legs would be, and what would be a comfortable height for me to fold. All while working around the door's handle.

Fully completed, it measures 36" long and 36" tall. (Correction - from the door's wall, it comes out into the room 36 7/8".)

My awesome neighbor, Larry, helped me run the shelving board through my table saw and the tabletop is exactly 36". 

 

The true bummer about wanting MDF shelving this large, is that the sides were not finished like smaller shelving boards can be. So, the next step was ironing on the edge tape and trimming the excess.

Cut the 1x4 trim board to two lengths of 31 3/4" and one length 23 3/4" wide.

Take the three cuts of the larger trim board and screw them together in an upside down "u." I did so with wood glue, and utilizing my Kreg Pocket Hole Jig 720.  This creates the table legs.

Cut the 1x2 trim board to two lengths of 23 3/4" wide. These two strips are to frame the table on the top and the bottom. 

Cut the piano hinge to 23 3/4" wide. (I added sanding and spray painting the hinge white.) Then screw the hinge into the tabletop and one of the small trim board lengths. This creates the bottom frame that will be screwed into the door, allowing for the tabletop to hinge/pull down.

I made a doozie of a mistake on my next step. But, it ended up becoming one of my favorite features to this table.

My fave guys at Caughlin Ranch Ace Hardware initially suggested that I use brass folding support mounts, but I really didn't want to see them when the table was folded up. I decided to pivot, and instead I went with the 2 1/2 inch utility hinges. When I screwed one fold onto the underside of my tabletop, the screws were ever-so-slightly too long, and poked holes into the top of my table.

GAAAAAHHHHHH! I was so super bummed. 

Then I remembered a book that I read to my kids often, Beautiful Oops! by Barney Saltzberg. The message being, "When you think you've made a mistake, think of it as an opportunity to make something beautiful."

So. Since my kiddos are the reason for 95% of my laundry, I wanted them to be a part of this table as well.

I sanded the MDF melamine with 60 grit sandpaper. Then, my kiddos painted the tabletop. Zac, ever the engineering mind, used a ruler to draw out shapes and painted a beautiful geometric abstraction. Stella, our free spirit, painted a beautiful whimsical abstract.

They used their (washable) paints. A couple hours later I sprayed their masterpiece with two layers of Gloss Enamel just to seal their art, prevent stickiness, and hopefully prevent chipping. (We shall see.)

After an overnight dry time, and another trip to Ace Hardware to get some shorter screws, I screwed the hinges into the top of the table legs + bottom of the tabletop. Great news - the tabletop remained undisturbed.

(Hint: the legs needed to be connected to the underside of the tabletop so that the feet are level with the bottom of the base frame. This leaves 2 1/4" at the top of the underside of the tabletop which is needed for the legs to rest and for the sash lock.)

Screw the sash lock onto the top frame, as well as the underside of the tabletop.

Mounting: Mounting this baby solo was "fun." I had to find a way to keep the table level, hold it, and screw the 1 1/2" base frame into the door. My trusty stepstool really helped.

With the base frame attached to the appropriate location of my door, I pulled the table down to see whether it was sturdy enough. Relief! The table works great. The legs don't want to slide out towards me. But, just in case, I attached clear rubber bumpers to the bottom of the table legs.

I held the table up against my door and propped the top frame on top of the table in order to screw it to the door. The sash lock works great at holding the tabletop in place.

Voilá!

Weeks Three & Four: The Hospital

Shit.

Poop.

Defecate.

Whether using slang, the informal or medical term... each of those words sounds somewhat negative. I mean, if someone is having a bad day, they describe it as "shitty."  The next time someone tells me they are having a "shitty day" I'm going to say "Congratulations!"

Because at the heart of those words above is one meaning: getting rid of waste. 

Who doesn't strive to get rid of waste in one's life? Be it wasteful spending, time wasting or those "friends" who, when you leave their company, actually make you feel like garbage?

As I just learned, not getting rid of waste can be dangerous, even deadly. 

Week Three:

If you didn't read my last post, most of Friday and Saturday were spent (what I thought) dealing with endo cramping and bloating. Sunday was just fine. Now I'm starting the work week, and the endo bloat is back. The symptoms I've been having for months. The ODD bloating where I literally look pregnant. My normal waist size (or at least what I use to make online clothing purchases) is 28-29 inches. 

On this Monday, my measuring tape showed a whopping 36 inches!  Of course, because I'm blogging about my endo experience, I got proof of this massive bloat. 

Crazy, right?

Tuesday things seemed to be leveling out.  My waist size went down by four and a half inches.  Wednesday, the trend continued.  My waistline was nearing normal at 30 inches.  And throughout these three days, work was no problem. There really were no issues.

Thursday I woke up with more cramping and bloating.  I actually canceled on my personal trainer about 20 minutes before we were scheduled to work together and called in sick to work.  WTF is going ON?  Truly, because of what I'd read online, my thought process was that I was one of the lucky few who was having pretty bad side effects from the Lupron shot.  I mean, the bloat and constipation really weren't unusual.  The amount of throwing up on Thursday was odd, though.  As a matter of fact, I had a can of Progresso Light soup which contains two cups of food.  Only got through one quarter of the can, and violently threw it up. That was the only attempt at nutrition all Thursday.

Friday? Spent all day laying on the couch.  Drank six tumblers of water, which I violently vomited about 30 minutes after consuming.  When The Man came over, he said "this isn't typical. These aren't side effects, and if they are your doctor needs to know about it."  I yeah-yeahed and continued to watch TV.  Of course, his words stuck.  And of course, waiting until right before bed, I called the emergency line at my endocrinologist's office.  The on-call nurse told me what I was describing were not typical side effects of Lupron, at least not like any she had seen, and it sounded like I had a bowel obstruction.  She said I needed to get to the emergency room to have things checked out.  The Man was literally putting the down comforter over his feet when I walked into the room and said, "I'm sorry.  We need to go to the ER."  He hopped out of bed, said no problem, and we were off.  

The care I received in the emergency room was phenomenal. I got right in, and pretty soon the ER nurse and physician were talking about bowel obstruction. I described the pain to them like a lava lamp. It felt like there were gas bubbles inside me that would slowly move up and down, without releasing itself. I went off for x-rays and a CT scan which concluded: yes, I had a small bowel obstruction. 

And that meant I was being admitted. 

(Meanwhile, my parents and I have a family pact. If any member of the family is admitted to the hospital, the family must be notified.  My parents were on a two week vacation riding across America to participate in the Sturgis motorcycle rally. I did not want them to cancel their vacation! But, sent the texts anyway to inform them.)

The non surgical way to treat a small bowel obstruction is to insert what is called a NG tube (nasogastric tube.) Or as I like to call it, the Not Good tube. The patient cannot be drugged or asleep when the tube is inserted, because the patient has to be an active participant in the insertion. It goes in one nostril, down the back of your throat, at which time the patient needs to swallow to make sure the tube goes down the esophagus and not into the lungs and finally goes into the stomach. 

Once the NG tube is in place, it vacuums out the stomach contents. NG tubes are used first to try and prevent needing surgery to clear out a bowel obstruction. 

My NG tube was administered late Friday night, and in the wee hours of Sunday morning... Let's just say it worked. And my body was getting rid of waste again. A lot of waste. But throughout my stay at the hospital, my heart was being "tacky." Tachycardia is when the heart rate is increased. An adult's normal heart rate is 60-100 beats per minute at rest. Mine was faster than that. Also, some of my labs came back and indicated I may have a blood clot somewhere. So, we had to wait for more testing to clear that worry before I could be released from the hospital. 

Week Four:

I was discharged from the hospital Monday afternoon (August 3rd.)

It's funny how one's mind and body can be so out of sync. Upon my discharge, my goal was to be back to work by Thursday, especially since I'd called in sick to work the prior Thursday and Friday. Yeeeaaaahhhh. My body said otherwise. 

Exhaustion. Pure exhaustion. That's all I can say about the days post-hospitalization. My body was relearning how to digest foods. But at the same time, the food I ate was very sparse. Mainly soups and apple juice, and sometimes I'd eat some saltines. And my max caloric intake was about 800 calories. I couldn't fit any more food. 

By Thursday, it was quite apparent that I couldn't return to work until the next week, Monday, August tenth. 

My parents vacation ended by the weekend, and they arrived in Reno Sunday evening to make sure I was okay. It was decided Mom would stay with me a few days until I felt better... That would turn out to be a wise decision. 

Week Two: What a Wild Ride!

Oooohhh, what an interesting week this one has been!  How do I begin?  If I thought there was tremendous support last week? ... It's nothing compared to the past seven days.

Day Eight (Monday, July 20, 2015):

My week started off awesome, in the best way possible: a kick a*$ workout.  It's one of those gifts that, I feel, more people need to give themselves.  It's okay to give yourself an hour, a few days a week. It's for your health.  That's what this whole blog/journey thing is about: sharing information about health.  And when things get stressful? Man, there's nothing better than taking it out on inanimate objects in the gym. And there's no better cheerleader (oh, man, he's going to kill me for calling him that!) than my trainer Thomas Wetzstein. (Pronounced Toe-más Wet-like-a-beer-stein.) A first-generation German love. Who kicks my butt. And I tell him, as long as he can make it look like J. Lo's butt, have at me.  We have been working together for about five years. Looking back, it's just another sign that things weren't right when I regularly started canceling on him during menstruation.

Well, last week was week one.  I'd been warned that I may menstruate, or at least have some endo symptoms during week one or week two.  Week one was a breeze.  I faced this week thinking, "Bring it, Mother Nature!"

I started the week like a warrior. Thomas had me dead lifting a max weight of 150 pounds. Not my personal best, but dang near close to it.  And I hadn't lifted that much in quite a while.  So it felt good.  Walked out of the gym on the first day of the week pumped, and ready for whatever was in store.

Day Nine (Tuesday, July 21, 2015):

Tuesday was going along just fine. No body issues.  Feeling great.  No roller coaster of emotions.  Honestly, this day would've gone down with just a sentence. Until I read the e-mail.  It's not unusual for news anchors to get mail criticizing the work we do. In fact, for women, it's quite common.  I received one Monday night that I didn't read until Tuesday.  In all honesty, the e-mail is quite funny.  The troll was definitely trying to be hurtful.  In the end, I want to thank whoever was behind the letter, as it created a tidal wave of support. I happened to take a screen shot of the e-mail, and posted it onto my professional Facebook page.  My post got picked up by arguably the most recognizable male news anchor on the west coast, and he posted the e-mail on his professional Facebook page.  It took off from there.  Again, I just want to say "thank you" to everyone who has been so supportive throughout this journey.

Day Ten (Wednesday, July 22, 2015):

No body issues. Feeling great.  No roller coaster of emotions.

Day Eleven (Thursday, July 23, 2015):

Menstruation started.

Day Twelve (Friday, July 24, 2015):

Menstruation ended in the afternoon, but endo cramping began.  The Man and I don't live together, and he'd never really experienced a night of endo cramping.  I didn't sleep at all Friday night (and while he said he did sleep, The Man was yawning all day Saturday.)  About every half hour I'd get a stomach cramp with gurgling.  There really wasn't a way to ease the pain, so I'd ride it out by putting my face down in the pillow, and sitting on my knees or I'd lay in the fetal position. The kindest gesture was feeling his hands rubbing the small of my back. And he did this often throughout the night.  This cramping lasted a good 24 hours, and was deep.  While it wasn't as bad as the cramping that sent me to the doctor to begin with, it was bad.  I'd say it was 80-90% the pain that I felt in June.

Day Thirteen (Saturday, July 25, 2015):

Fatigued.  Hurting.  Hungry.  Throwing up.  All the time.  Cramping continued.  Thinking was impossible.  My mom and dad called me asking to walk them through how to drag songs from iTunes onto their iPhones, and I couldn't even explain it.  The Man worked, so I was home alone with the dogs for the better part of the day.  Tried to make up for the lack of sleep from Friday night, but with the continued cramping, and add in the fact that I'm now throwing up, and it just wasn't a pretty day.  I threw up about five times (with each time having three to five yaks.)

Day Fourteen (Sunday, July 26, 2015):

What? I was under the weather? Huh. Could've fooled me!  Feeling fine today.  Occasional stomach gurgles without the cramping. Residual headaches, and I think that's from being dehydrated.  But I'm making up for it.  Drinking lots of fluids... Oh, and I'm baking again!  This time? Pumpkin Cornbread.

Week One: Tremendous Support

It’s amazing going from “am I crazy?” “This isn’t normal!” “What’s wrong with me?” To getting a diagnosis. Then getting instant support.

Last week’s blog brought me a new appreciation for the community, and the small world in which we live.  The corresponding link on my professional Facebook page received 109 comments, it was shared 58 times, liked more than 160 times and according to FB Insights had a reach of more than 37,000 people.  For an anchor in a mid-size television market, those numbers are above average.

Personal messages started coming in from close friends and even former coworkers.  They, too, are dealing with endo.  The comments on my professional Facebook post came from viewers who shared their endo experiences… I learned more about a group people on the other side of the lens in one weekend than I’ve learned in quite a long time.  These viewers are my invisible friends… a support group that I didn’t know was there.  

Suggestions started coming in about blogs.  Some I have looked at, some I will look at in the future.  One woman, Lisa, reached out immediately on Facebook.  She has a blog Bloomin’ Uterus, and it’s provided really good information. Friday, just six days after my original blog post, I received a beautiful letter from Lisa — a fellow “endo sister” who is behind Bloomin’ Uterus with a gorgeous sentiment and pins of … Bloomin’ uter … i?  Uter … uses? (Just looked it up: the plural is uteri.) 

I cannot thank you enough for your positive support, and encouragement!

DAY ONE - NO BIG DEAL:

Okay, so Monday was the day I got my Depot Lupron shot.  I honestly didn’t know what to expect.  Just FYI, the shot goes into the toosh.  Fanny.  Derrière.  In my notes from an hour-long phone call with Abbvie preceding the treatment, Depot Lupron is a gonadatropin releasing hormone to suppress estrogen.  For the first two weeks, I’ll have a surge of estrogen, which will then shock my body into thinking I have too much, so my body will stop producing estrogen.  

My doctor also had me continue taking birth control pills for the first week.  Because of insurance… the time it would take to get the Rx delivered to the office… and my body’s normal timing — I should have been on the sugar pills in my birth control pack this week.  But our goal is to stop my period.  We’d missed the “sweet spot” for the shot.  So, I started a new month of pills, and only took one week’s worth.  

DAY TWO - GIVE ME A STEAK:

I can’t remember the last time I *craved a steak. So Tuesday’s dinner is being chalked up to hormone fluctuation.  Not only did I crave red meat.  I wanted a big, fat, juicy steak.  Mind you, I don’t cook.  Can bake up a storm, but cooking??? Well, not my strong suit.  This night… I went to the market with the express intent on buying myself what ended up being an eight ounce, organic, bison strip loin steak.  Oh.  I don’t own a barbecue.  I have a George Foreman.  

But that’s not what I want my eight ounce, organic, bison strip loin steak cooked on.  Get home from market.  Open Pinterest.  Search how to cook strip steak.  And boy, did I cook it.  O.  M.  G.  And for a side I had three feta stuffed olives.  Huh.  Interesting combo.

Tuesday night sleep pattern: woke up three times.

DAY THREE - WHAT? I’M COOKING AGAIN?!?!

After a fitful night’s sleep, my dog Hollywood woke me up at about five in the morning.  And the weirdest thing happened.  I wanted to cook… again.  I literally walked pajama clad into my kitchen, started brewing a cup of coffee, and while the Keurig was sputtering its final drops into my mug I had my back leaning up against the island looking out my kitchen window.  On a decorative plate just to the right of the window sat an onion that, if I waited one or two more days, would start to go bad.  And the internal voice in my head said, "Why don't I take this onion and caramelize it? That sounds good.”  

One cup of coffee down and then this: "What tastes good with caramelized onions? Toasted pine nuts! Yeah, let's do that.”  Half a cup of coffee later? "Hmmm. Now I'm hungry. How do I make breakfast out of this? Eggs. I need eggs."

Randomly add feta cheese and this is the most successful, unplanned morning meal I've ever had!!!

Wednesday night sleep pattern: woke up several times.

DAY FOUR - WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? FIRST MOOD SWING.

Another fitful night’s sleep.  I woke up about an hour before my scheduled workout.  Didn’t eat enough calories beforehand (at least that’s what I’m blaming), because my workout STUNK.  I felt drained.  I felt hot.  I felt lazy.  But.  This was the first Thursday workout I’ve made it to during what would’ve been my period week in months.  This was a win.

What wasn’t a win? My afternoon attitude.  Later Thursday night I called “The Man” and literally said, “Well… I think I had my first mood swing.”  He chuckled in response, “Who was the victim?”  Naming one of the hardest working people I’ve ever known in the business, I explained how stupid I was.  The disagreement in the newsroom was over what to call a certain square block in town.  Was it south Reno? Was it southwest Reno?  I was going to call it one thing, others had never heard the area called that.  When I said that’s what my friends call it, Hard-Worker jokingly said, “your friends are stupid.” (We joke like this all the time in the newsroom.  No matter what’s said on TV, a newsroom isn’t always PC.)  I.  Saw.  White.  Literally.  There was a ringing in my ears.  And I shot back.  Although, there was no jovial tone.  It was not nice.  It was pure bitch.  And TRULY, I don’t know exactly what I said!  This is what I was telling The Man, “I honestly have no idea what I said! I know the f-word was used.  But was it f-you? Was it f-off? And why did I get so mad???”  At that instant at work I turned to my computer screen and asked myself, “What was that?!?!?!”  Kept my mouth quiet for quite a while, because I knew I was in the wrong.  And I knew I had to get a handle on myself.  I need to keep myself in check.  Need to do better.  

Thursday night sleep pattern: popped a 3mg Melatonin.  Funky dreams!!!

DAY FIVE - NO BIG DEAL.

Well, after two nights of not sleeping well, I woke up with a Melatonin hangover.  Had the alarm set for five in the morning.  Yeah.  That didn’t happen. But the sleep was needed.  

I’m starting to notice that I’m not using my space heater underneath my desk as much.  By the way, our newsroom is freezing.  In fact, our morning meteorologist was joking the other day that she had gone to the supermarket on her lunch break wearing a sweatshirt.  In the middle of summer.  In Reno.  She was questioned whether the weather was going to get bad, and she had to explain that no, our building is just always freezing cold.  Well, in that freezing building, I’m not using my space heater as much.  Is it because we are in the middle of July in Reno? Probably.  Am I thinking too much about it because of how much I’ve researched all the side effects like hot flashes.  Probably.  Have I broken out into a sweat yet? Nope.

Friday night sleep pattern: slept like a baby.

DAY SIX - MORE RED MEAT, PLEASE!

The Man and I went out to dinner and a movie.  I ordered myself a full rack of ribs!  

Things are definitely different, considering I only have red meat about four times a year.  

By the way — we saw Magic Mike XXL.  I will never look at Michael Strahan the same way again!!! 

Saturday night sleep pattern: slept like a baby.

DAY SEVEN - MORE RED MEAT AND MORE COOKING… UHHH, WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?

Breakfast was finishing off the rack of ribs.  I had planned on eating those ribs for a day or two.  They are all gone.  And they were delicious! 

It’s Sunday.  I’m cleaning house, watching movies… and decided to try a new recipe.  A dog biscuit recipe.  They turned out very well.  But again, I’m surprised by the fact that the kitchen appliances were getting used once again.  Hollywood doesn’t seem to mind.  Hopefully these treats will work as a bribe to prevent her from waking me up early tomorrow!

Endometriosis: My Diagnosis and Treatment

The tipping point was June 19, 2015. That Friday morning the pain wouldn't subside. Standing up straight was impossible. Not wanting to call in sick for about the fifth month in a row, I decided to bring a heating pad to work. It was so humiliating to answer "What's wrong, Sarah? Why the heating pad? Did you work out too hard?" Uh, no. My cramps are debilitating... Talk about making a man's face pale!

That day I called my doctor's office to make an appointment. 

Endometriosis is not a death sentence. However, not treating it could kill the one thing I want more than anything: to one day birth a baby of my own. 

It took that Friday after having the heating pad on my abdomen all day; after having to rest in the green room for an hour; after putting on the dress I planned to wear during that night's newscasts -- only for the dress to be too tight because of massive bloating... After all that, I finally called.  The clincher was walking out of the bathroom stall in the dress, and looking at a coworker with panic because the bloat went from my underwire to my pelvic bone.  We got a good laugh.  It looked like I was in the third trimester of pregnancy.  But.  Something.  Wasn't.  Right.

The signs had been there. Why had I let the symptoms go so far? Three months ago, the Executive Producer sent me home because I couldn't stand up straight anchoring the 4:30pm newscast.  Two months ago, I'd vomited during menstruation.  After researching endometriosis, I realized the symptoms weren't recent. They were just recently becoming so bad, being an active member of society wasn't possible for one or two days a month. 

Truly, it was possibly a year and a half after my "lighter" symptoms began: like almost fainting while working out during menstruation.  The yo-yo between constipation and diarrhea.  Stomach gurgling.  Serious. Stomach. Gurgling.  The kind others could hear when they stood two feet away.  That's hot. Pain during sex.  (Inward gasp. Yes, I'm going there.) Fifteen years ago I was told I had a tipped uterus, which may cause pain during sex.  So, when/if things got uncomfortable, I just attributed it to the fact my womb was going the wrong way.  Just today I looked up tipped uterus again, lo and behold guess what?  According to americanpregnancy.org a tipped uterus can occur from scarring as a result of endometriosis.  So what came first, the chicken or the egg?

Endometriosis is something I'd read scripts about in the past.  It is a term I think women have heard of, but don't know too much about.  In going on those medical websites I've learned it's very common.  Especially with women in their 30s and 40s who haven't yet had children. 

So what is it?  Your uterus has a lining.  That mucus membrane is called endometrium.  With endometriosis that membrane somehow gets elsewhere in your body, and attaches to other places/organs.  But once a month, it reacts just how the endometrium inside your womb is acting -- and is anticipating an egg to attach.  When that doesn't happen, the endometrium everywhere in your body "sheds" or bleeds.  But that shedding doesn't escape like the endometrium inside your uterus can, through your vagina, which causes a period.  The endometriosis sheds where it's located and, essentially, is floating around inside your body. (http://1.usa.gov/1GewXKi)

The good news: there is treatment.  My doctor and I have chosen to not do surgery.  Instead, on Monday July 13, 2015 he is going to give me a drug called Depot Lupron.  It will put me into menopause.  At 37 years old I'm going to go through menopause.  On purpose.  Hot flashes and all.  He says Depot Lupron is the gold standard of treatment, and in essence, it's like spraying Round Up on weeds.  Since I won't have a lot of estrogen in my body, that hormone won't feed the endometrium in my body... and the endometriosis that has attached outside of my womb (where it isn't supposed to be) will die, while the endometrium inside my womb can be "restarted." 

So let's go back to why I'm writing this blog.  First, my doctor wants me to journal.  Second, other websites/posts that I've found about "endo" make it sound, well, dramatic.  I want to keep it real.  Want to provide information for those who may be researching it while I continue to simultaneously do so.  And I want a forum.  If you've been through it, please comment.  If I'm freaking out and emotional, please understand.  And thank you, all, for taking the time to read this!

I am not a medical professional.  Do not use this blog for diagnosis. If you have any concerns about your menstrual cycle please call your doctor!

Dancing in the Park, Night One

Tuesday, July 7, 2014; 5:05(ish) p.m.

Staring into the blank eye of the lens, while white words scrolled up on the TelePrompTer, a loud rumble started to shake the studio.  There was no thunder clap.  It was more like a rolling wave.  The grumble lasted what seemed an eternity, but realistically five seconds.  The KOLO 8 News Now studios shook.  The summer sky opened up.  

As the black storm clouds hovered over western Nevada, some were safe indoors from the soaking rain.  Like those of us in the studio.  But dozens of others braved the silver sheets dropping from the sky in order to dance.  Rehearsals continued in the amphitheater of Wingfield Park.

Tonight would be the first night of Dancing in the Park for Artown, the month-long festival in Reno, Nevada celebrating the arts.

Dozens of dancers rehearsing before the 8 p.m. curtain call

Friends were writing me on Facebook, “Will the performance still happen, since it’s raining?”  In my seven years of emceeing these events, Dancing in the Park has never been canceled.  The show must go on!

What young dancer hasn’t watched 1983’s Flashdance and imagined once of being able to shake the water from their hair?  Or dreamt of doing a Grand Jeté while water flies off their pointe? 

Alas, that wasn’t meant to be tonight.  In typical fashion for Truckee Meadows weather, the thunderstorms rolled through the community and dried up before the 8 p.m. ‘curtain call.’

And the crowds weren’t fazed.  The park was filled with spectators wanting to see the Northern Nevada Dance Coalition.  

A great crowd showed up in Wingfield Park for the first Dancing in the Park

Taken from stage left before the first Dancing in the Park

Tonight was the first night NNDC performed in Artown’s Dancing in the Park.  The troupe, a collage of performers from a number of Reno dance studios including: The Loft Dance Theater Arts, Nevada Dance Academy, SURVE Dance Complex, Damonte High School PAC Program, InnerRhythms, Fairy Tale Ballet, Spiral Ballet and the Galena High School Dance Team.  

All local dancers.  Performers of various shapes and sizes.  From toddlers, to mature women.  Sharing their love of movement.  The art of expressing emotions with limbs.  

Dancing in the Park will be held every Tuesday in July.  I will continue to blog about each performance, so please revisit this page.  

Next week’s show will be the Sierra Nevada Ballet, including international tap superstar (and a man I truly get giddy around) Sam Weber; Cami Thompson; and former Joffrey principal, Domingo Rubio.

Living Life

Most of what I put here will be my rants/raves.