Sunday, July 31, 2011

thanks for nothing google.

I just googled “What am I supposed to do with my life?”.


I'm not even sure what my dreams are anymore? I am seriously questioning if I ever loved dancing. I think I might have just been in love with the music I got to dance to. In love with the musicians that played that music. I loved writing and wanted to be a writer until I realized that most of the time people just want you to write for free, and that writing is actually a hobby. Like doing crafts. Or jogging.


I had known from a very young age what I wanted to be when I grew up. In 5th grade I can vividly remember spending an entire week in health class filling out paperwork and using my number 10 lead pencil to make teenie-tiny dash marks on a receipt shaped paper during "career week." I answered questions like “do you prefer to work alone or in groups?” My choices were a)some of the time, b) all of the time or c)never. Next question, “I enjoy problem solving” a)some of the time, b)always, c)never. I was deeply convinced that at the end of all of these questions that my teacher would whisk my paper away, run it through that insane automatic marking machine in the office and would come back with an announcement. Not only to me, but to my entire 5th grade class. While Andy was most suited to being a firefighter and Jill was going to be a nurse, the test had proved without a doubt that the only job meant for Keltie was, superstar.

Over my years growing up my intention to my future calling never got any clearer. In 11th grade when I was failing algebra and had to get a math tutor, I announced at the top of my lungs to my entire class, that "math was stupid and that I was never going to need to use the Pythagorean theorem because when I was going to be a star and I would just hire someone to use the Pythagorean theorem for me, if I ever needed it, which I wouldn’t because no one actually uses the Pythagorean theorem."

So, I never made a back up plan. Back up plans were for people who were going to fail. Back up plans were for people who were not going to be stars. Back up plans were for people who in the deepest part of there guts, hiding in a teenie tiny little corner was the littlest hint of doubt that they had what it took to make it. I had no doubt. I had no back up plan. I had ballet shoes. I had a yellow leotard. I had a black and white headshot. I was going to be a star.

Fast forward. In 6 months I will turn 30 years old. When I was 14 I was convinced that like most things in life like rules and limitations, aging would also not apply to me. I am currently alternating acne cream and wrinkle cream nightly. I found my first grey hair. I am driving a 2001 Black Honda CRV with locks that do not work and blood splatters on the roof (I didn't notice them until I had already bought the car.)I buy most of my clothing at forever 21, as if wearing a dress that has a label that says it could actually make being perpetually 21 happen. I rent. I don’t have health insurance. I don’t have a job. I don’t have a college degree. I don’t have a back up plan.

Last night I googled “What am I supposed to do with my life?” in hopes that the information superhighway that usually tells me everything would have the answer to this question. It didn't. It did however, know how to make a chocolate cake from scratch.

Monday, July 18, 2011

dear followers.

Remember when you liked that guy in school and he didn’t even know you were alive? I am having a similar problem with a tv show. That show is So You Think You Can Dance Canada. I really want to be a guest judge, but they don’t know I am alive. If you agree with my 5 reasons they should consider me for guest judge please tweet the crap out of them. I can count on you army!

#1- That one time I was on the Cover of Dance Spirit Magazine (only 4 Canadians have ever done that)

#2- Danced for Beyonce, Taylor Swift, Fergie, Panic!, John Legend, Christina Perri + more.

#3- Grew up dancing in Canada + am Canadian.

#4- Radio City Rockette for 6 years. (one of 3 Canadians!)

#5-I really love dancing. It’s my soul. I would love to celebrate that love with my home and native land.

My soul thanks you in advance for helping me. Love, Keltie.

Tweet to @SYTYCDCanada

I saw Midnight in Paris the other night. I have to admit it messed up my insides. People said that it made them happy and hopeful about love. I felt the opposite. It made me terribly sad.

I wrote this after I saw the show:

Paris for me, is the reminder of love. Paris is the city of love. It was impossible to not have the movie pull on your heart strings. Paris to me represents, the kind of love the seems more special because you know it won't ever last. It can't possibly last. Love like that only exists on short vacations to Paris and tiny little places in your mind. Somehow memory changes everything that was wrong, into everything that is right. I guess that is why the last person who broke your heart, will always be the one that messed you up the most. Our minds have this uncanny ability to rewrite everything that was. Fear turns into fearlessness. The end is the beginning. Lovers are never realists. We cannot ever see the truth with our hearts. We can only see what we want to see. Paris to me, isn't real. Paris represents every romantic moment of my life and how fleeting that "perfection" is.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011



I think one of the greatest powers I possess is the power to be in bed in the morning, completely unsure if I can go on. Then somehow get up, smile, have "great energy" and continue on. No one who doesn't read this, or know me well would ever know how much I fight against my brain. The good news is, once and a while I create something that makes me like myself again, and this is one of those things. It's amazing how much good lighting and a skilled camera man can boost your confidence.


take a look at my behind the scenes video

Friday, July 8, 2011


Honestly, I just googled "What I am supposed to do with my life?"

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I think the hardest thing ever is to simultaneously love yourself and completely hate yourself. To believe that there is something so special about yourself that all of this hard work will eventually turn into the life of your dreams and also be convinced that you deserve nothing of the sort.


I can't figure out which part of me to believe.

Friday, July 1, 2011




i needed this sign in my life today.