Dork-o-Rama: The Random Thoughts of a Total Goofball

Ku'u pua melia...

2012-01-16T01:07:00.000-08:00

Yes! She lives and breathes! She just never has time to blog anymore!

Kinda surprised I still remember the password here. Where the heck did the last year go? And what can I tell you about it? Umm...went to New York in the winter, Hawai'i in the fall with six of my hula sisters - one of whom had never been! - and both were fabulous trips, especially Hawai'i. So many special moments there.

And now, I find myself in the middle of the biggest challenge of my career. I can't elaborate in this space, of course, but suffice it to say the past few months have involved very long hours and very high stress. And it's not a surprise that hula continues to be my saving grace. (Yes, I'm going to talk about hula. Again.)

We've been learning a bunch of new things in class during the last few months, including an extraordinarily complex chant. It's a very special one, composed especially for our halau by a renowned poet/author/teacher/composer for the dance company's show this past fall. It's about San Francisco, and... well, I can't really explain it well. Click here - the hula that follows the chant always brings a tear to my eye, but that opening chant is just beautiful. It's also really, really hard to learn. So many words, such complex phrasing...

It's been a real gift to have something so complex to focus on outside of work. It's given me something engrossing to think about, even for just a few minutes here and there, amid all the chaos. It requires all of my brain power. And because our Kumu said he wanted us to know it before the year was out, I worked hard on it every chance I got.

So one night in class, just before Christmas, he asked us if anyone had it memorized yet. I think I was the only one to raise my hand that night, though I know another hula sister had it down, too - she wasn't there, though. We then spent the next 20 minutes or so working on it together, and just before he had us resume dancing, he called me up to chant it by myself.

And my stomach immediately jumped into my throat. When I'd raised my hand in response to his query, I'd even joked to the hula brother next to me, "Watch, he'll make me prove it." It's hard enough to stand in front of dozens of people to chant by yourself, but even worse when you're asked to do it. Normally, we volunteer ourselves when we're ready. Or even if we're not ready, we volunteer ourselves to get it over with!

Luckily, I knew I had the words down, but I sometimes have trouble finding the right key in which to chant. Especially when my stomach is in my throat. So I launched into it, and even managed to look at my Kumu a few times while I was chanting - thank goodness he was smiling! I wasn't happy with the way my voice sounded - damned nerves - but I got all the words right. And my hula siblings responded with a huge round of cheering and applause when I was done. It was almost overwhelming. I had to drop my gaze to the floor and bite my lip to stop myself from bursting into tears.

They had no way to know this, but that was exactly what I needed that night, after another long day at work fighting the good fight, feeling like a failure in many ways because things hadn't been going as smoothly as I'd hoped. It's inevitable amid major changes that it takes awhile to iron everything out. You know how you spend many hours working your ass off and you reach a point where, no matter how much more you do, you can't fix everything? That's where I was. And being the first of my classmates to get through this complicated chant, getting that massive dose of aloha from everyone as a result... THAT was.... incredible. I felt like I'd finally done something right, something that mattered deeply to me, no less.

Hula is full of moments like this for me.

When I was ten, my mom took my brother and me to Hawai'i for the first time. We visited several islands, and saw many amazing sights. But one of the strongest memories for me was on Maui. We stayed for a night or two at the famed Hana Maui resort - it seemed like paradise to me. And the grounds were covered in plumerias.

Nope, not my picture, but a great shot of some plumerias.

There were trees all over the place, and those gorgeous yellow flowers all over the ground. They perfumed everything, and I fell in love with that scent on that trip. I can't even describe it to you, but it's an intoxicating aroma that instantly makes me smile.

They come in other colors too. Preeeetty.

Since that first trip to Hawai'i, I've tried to get my hands on plumerias every chance I get. They're hard to come by on the mainland. They don't grow well here - we tried, when I was a teen - and if they do, they don't smell the same. It's a treat when I find them. To me, for many, many years, they were Hawai'i.

This is what they look like when strung into a lei. I happen to have one right now, and I'm trying to soak up every bit of that scent before it fades.

A little while after I started studying hula, I watched a documentary about my Kumu's Kumu (he also happens to be a very famous Hawaiian musician) and at one point, while preparing his dancers for a competition, he mentioned that in our hula lineage, the plumeria is considered the flower of the hula dancer.

I nearly fell out of my seat. You mean the flower I've loved since my childhood is also the flower of the very thing that's changed my life, all these years later? Was I... supposed to get to this place? Is that why this whiter-than-white girl has fallen in love with hula and the Hawaiian culture?

I don't know. But it's why on a trip to Hawai'i in 2010, I came home with this fabulous souvenir:

(It's hard to get a great picture of your own ankle, by the way.)

So now, even if I get to a point where I can no longer dance, I will always be reminded of the amazing experiences I've had because of hula. I hope they never end.

True that...

2011-01-28T22:55:00.000-08:00

Okay, I keep saying I need to get my butt over here to write something, but I've spent this entire month sick and super busy at work.

So go read this. Because it's something I keep meaning to address here, but couldn't have done it better!

And while you're there, stay for awhile. Lots of good reading at Blondie's place.

Giving thanks...

2010-11-25T15:11:00.000-08:00

This is one weird Thanksgiving. I'm home for the first time in years.

In the years since my mom moved to the midwest in the late 90's, I've spent every Thanksgiving with a dear friend in San Diego who's like the sister I never had, and her family has become my second family. It's become a cherished tradition, even when she forces me to get up in the middle of the night on Black Friday to go shopping (heh. it's actually very fun with this crew, and they put up with my whining about needing caffeine oh so desperately...).

But this year, my boss is out of the country on this holiday, and I can't really be out of driving range of work in case something big happens. I work in a 24/7 business, and big things can happen at any time. So I'm home.

I had planned to spend the day visiting with other dear friends in the area that I don't see nearly enough, but had to cancel out because I'm sick! That's almost an annual tradition, too, with me getting some nasty respiratory thing around Thanksgiving (one year it was PNEUMONIA) or Christmas. Last year, I made it through the entire holiday and cold & flu season without catching anything, which I credit to my regular use of a neti pot. But something got me this week, so here I am on Thanksgiving day on my couch, in pajamas, blowing my nose endlessly and OD'ing on Mucinex and Sudafed (for which I am thankful!).

But I'm not sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I mean, of course, I'd much rather be laughing and eating with friends than spending the day solo and sick, but I have SO much to be thankful for that I can't work up any self-pity.

I have my health (mostly!). I have a roof over my head and food on my table (including the gluten-free stuffing I'll be making for myself later). I have employment in my chosen profession. I live in a city I love, and get to visit places I love almost as much. I get to do a lot of very fun things in my spare time. But most important, I have amazing people in my life who put up with me and love me and restore my faith in humanity on a daily basis. I am consistently awed by my loved ones.

I'm very lucky, and very thankful. My cup runneth over. Happy Thanksgiving!

Sitting on a rainbow...

2010-06-26T13:09:00.000-07:00

Meet my alter ego, Pat McGroin. (I have to give credit where it's due - a hula brother gave me my drag name, and it still makes me laugh.)

I did not have a heart attack on stage, which is an accomplishment in my book. There were moments during the tech rehearsal the night before the show, the first time I danced this for anyone else, that I thought I might die.. No, really. Two minutes and 12 seconds of sheer terror. I could see my hands shaking on certain moves, which nearly made me laugh.I haven't danced a solo anything since high school, and that was just in front of a class, not an audience! But the feedback (and cheers!) I got from my hula siblings was very positive, so I felt much better after the big unveiling. MUCH.

The group number, which was a comedy bit involving Lucy and Ethel trying to hula and sabotaging the actual hula dancers, did not go as well during the tech rehearsal, so we spent the rest of the evening reassessing our number and making necessary changes. I didn't expect that to be so challenging, and it turned out to be my part that needed the most revision, so I went to bed that night more stressed out about that than the solo! Luckily, I awoke the next day with the idea we needed to make it work, but it also meant I had a lot of new work to do in the hours before the performance.... yikes.

During the show, I'm happy to say the solo went just fine, and again, my hula siblings gave a huge cheer when the curtain opened on me (and when I finished), which felt good. I needed their support, especially since non of my non-hula friends were able to come, and I really felt that support from the hula family. And while I did a good job of not really focusing on anyone in the audience - a technique that helps with the nerves - I couldn't help but spot where my Kumu was sitting... and then did my best not to look his way for the rest of the number!

And no, I didn't win anything, but I didn't expect to*. Well, okay, part of me had a little fantasy about placing in the competition, but once I saw what my more senior (in experience, not age!) siblings were doing, I knew there wasn't a chance. The guys really had the advantage, as their costumes were far more elaborate, but I was so impressed by what some of the other women came up with. I'm so impressed by the talent and creativity in our halau.

It was a huge relief when people started laughing during the group comedy bit - I was in a position on stage where I could really watch the audience reaction, and they seemed to enjoy what we were up to and laughed when they were supposed to. And we tied for third place, though the judges conferred and gave the prize to the other group (and I think they deserved it).

It was yet another tremendous experience in bonding, creative expression, and fun... despite the pre-show meltdowns over my solo (and there were several!). I'm proud that I managed to stretch way outside my comfort zone again, and especially pleased with the way the group worked together in the comedy bit - all eight of us had input, everyone was generous, no one tried to outshine anyone. It was an ideal situation for a group project.

Once again, I'm feeling incredibly fortunate to be having these experiences.

*Well, my class won the class competition, which was based on the scores of the soloists. One of my hula brothers from my class, who is a drag performer, won the solo competition, so that was the biggest factor in our win, but I guess the other soloist from my class and I must have done alright!

Yikes...

2010-05-27T22:21:00.000-07:00

We have a friendly little hula competition coming up in a few weeks, to benefit the class that's raising money for their cultural immersion trip to Hawai'i (it will be my class's turn in a few years)... and I cleverly managed to volunteer to do a solo without being fully aware of what it entailed.

Let me explain: the last time our halau did this, the soloists were chosen by their classmates - three per class - and they worked with our Kumu on a dance they'd already learned. And my class didn't take part, as we were still hula babies. This time around, it was up to us to volunteer if we wanted to do a solo, and to do it in drag. And the capper - the thing I didn't realize when I tentatively threw my hat in the ring (which was taken as a commitment!) - is that we have to choreograph our solos ourselves. We can't dance something we already know.

Oh. My. GOD. My mouth went dry when we learned this. I'd planned to do a funny (hopefully), hammy, butch-y version of a dance I know and love in a really 70's wig with sideburns - figured I had to do something outrageous to compete with any of my hot hula brothers in drag, y'know? I was not expecting this.

In my youth, I choreographed a fair number of dances, but with jazz and modern dance, my main concern was making the moves fit the music and the mood of the music. With hula, you're telling a story, and there's a vocabulary involved, and I was - am - unsure if my hula vocabulary is extensive enough to choreograph ANYTHING.

And to add to my stress, I had no idea what song I wanted to use. I knew I couldn't manage to pull off anything overly serious - I need to strive for sassy and fun so that my "performing" skills will carry me through the gaps in my choreographic abilities, not to mention the fact that a guy in drag is inherently more entertaining than a woman in drag. And I need a song that included at least some words that fit my hula vocabulary. I spent days listening to some of my favorite songs, trying to figure out whether any of them would work, especially songs that make me want to dance, period.

I also need to use something that has very little instrumental time. Again, with hula, you're telling a story. You need words. There is no hula without the poetry, though my Kumu is renowned for using pop and electronica music in his shows. I could never in a million years dream of coming close to accomplishing even a fraction of what he's done (I'm posting an example below to show you what I mean).

It finally hit me: go classic. Something from the Great American Songbook.

It's sassy. It's short. It's a song I adore. There's not much instrumental time. There are moves we've learned that work with some of the lyrics. I can come up with a simple, yet completely appropriate costume. Once I found the song, I finally felt confident that I would't completely embarrass myself on stage.

The only trouble is, I haven't had much time to work on it. I have little bits and pieces of it done, but there's much more to do. I don't have the costume together. And I'm also dancing in a comedic number with a group of my hula sisters in this competition, and that's been taking up a lot of what little spare time I've had the last few weeks.

It's safe to say I'm sufficiently freaked out about this, and am really thrilled to have a three-day weekend ahead, because I really need to get serious about my solo.

The good thing, as one of my hula sisters pointed out, is that if I screw up my own choreography on stage, I'll be the only one who knows it!

Deep, cleansing breaths...

And here's an example of what my Kumu does - this video's a great juxtaposition of ancient, traditional hula and his "hula mua," or evolving, style. (It was really windy at this performance....) The fact that it looks easy is a testament to the skills of the dancers. They're spectacular.

A little lesson in hula hubris?

2010-05-08T22:33:00.000-07:00

So we had a little performance last weekend. It was a fundraiser for the elementary school that's home to our halau, and each class did a short program. At first, our Kumu had made it sound like it would be a pretty casual event, but he loves to put on a show, so as the date drew nearer, the production became a little more formal, and included our full costumes and accessories. And we - meaning the group of women with whom I did that special dance in the big show last October - were asked to reprise that dance. That was a surprise, and an honor.

But because we have a special (gorgeous) costume for that dance, it meant we were going to have to miss out on several other dances. This was a short show, and there wasn't enough time for lengthy costume changes. In fact, while we were on stage, our hula siblings all had to run back and change rapidly for the next number, which we then missed because we were changing. And I'll admit,I felt a little pissy about that at first. Two of the dances we were missing are among my favorites, and I love doing them.

I had to stop myself for a moment and remember that it was an honor to be asked to dance in the smaller group again. It meant we did well last October. And it meant I got to spend extra time with those amazing women once again. (A few members of the group weren't able to dance in the show this time, though, so we had to press on without them.)

But I think my initial pissyness had a pricetag. For our performance, I had to make a small lei to wrap around the bun I would have in my hair for this dance. Part of the reason we make our own accessories is because we are placing our "mana" in them as we create them - our power, our spirit. And I'm not exaggerating when I say I am really, REALLY bad at crafts, but I've made two larger head leis in a similar manner in the past year, so I know how to do it, and actually understand the process much better now. Those other leis actually came out well, and I was very proud of them. But this time, I got about halfway through and had to start over because the flowers and greenery kept falling out. I kept breaking stems. I had trouble all the way through, so it took me a lot longer than I expected, but it looked pretty when it was finished. I was happy with the result, though now, in retrospect, I should perhaps have seen the trouble I had as a sign.*

And then it came time for us to dance. We had been having trouble with the chant that accompanies the dance - we have to harmonize, and we struggled with that in the weeks leading up to the performance, but as we practiced before the show, we seemed to have finally gotten into the groove. But once we got on stage, after our entrance chant (which was fine) we lost it. We didn't sound right. I kept struggling to try to adjust properly, but none of us could identify the problem or correct it. The dance seemed to be fine, but our chanting was not.**

Let me tell you, that was a silent run to the dressing room to change. What the audience (made up of friends, family, and members of other classes) heard while we were on stage was our hearts breaking. We were so disappointed with ourselves, especially since our performances in October seemed to go so well. I wanted to cry, but the show had to go on.

I think that was karma kicking me in the ass. Message received. Full humility restored. And just in time, because I've taken on another hula challenge...

* I've kept the other leis I've made on display, and they've held up surprisingly well. The flowers and greenery have already started falling out of this one!
**One of the women who helps to run the halau had kind words for us afterwards, saying if we'd sounded really terrible, Kumu would have started chanting to guide us. And she said we didn't let the trouble show in the dance itself, which was fine. I'm comforted by that, but am still terribly disappointed in myself.

Turn, turn, turn...

2010-04-17T23:54:00.000-07:00

I am really noticing the passage of time these days.

At first, I thought it was just because we'd had such a rainy, chilly winter that when we had a taste of spring, it was really noticeable. (We've since been sent back to winter, and now I'm really confused....since it is now actually spring!) Plus, for the first time I can remember, I was actually in two big snowstorms this winter. I mean, most of the time, the change of the seasons in California isn't as obvious as it is in much of the country, but I've actually felt like I've had a real winter this year, so the change to spring is far more noticable.

No, that's not it. I feel old. I'm feeling the passage of time in my own body. I've been dealing with some hula-related hip pain since the beginning of the year, and it's not only annoying, it's depressing. What do you mean, I can't make my body do whatever I want it to, anytime I want it to, just because I'm in my 40's and overweight? That's not right!

The gray hairs on my head are more aggressive than ever. I'm noticing new and deeper wrinkles on my face. Two more of my friends' kids are about to graduate from high school. On my next birthday, I'll officially be closer to the next age ending in a zero than I am to the last one. I don't get Lady Gaga or Ke$sha.

And it's freaking me out a little. Time for a sportscar, botox and a much younger man?

(Also - on a completely unrelated subject, I completely forgot I'd enabled comment moderation and didn't realize there were a bunch of comments on the last two posts! Ooooops...! I've been guilty of blog neglect. Again. Anyway, hi y'all!)

Yup, it's tough alright...

2010-03-05T23:52:00.000-08:00

I sometimes watch some really bad television. Not as much as I once did, but still. Some of these shows are unbelievably ridiculous. Some are downright outrageous.

Case in point: "Tough Love," which recently wrapped up its second season. I'll let VH1 describe its show for you:

"Handsome, cocky and smart, Steven Ward is America's maestro of love. His brutally honest approach to matchmaking is what has made him and his mother Joann Ward one of the most successful matchmaking teams in the country. Steven has the balls to tell women not what they want to hear, but what they need to hear to find love.

The series revolves around "VH1 Tough Love Boot Camp," where Steven works with a group of eight single, attractive women living together in a house for eight weeks to change their dating ways. Steven guarantees that if they follow his rules then by the end of the eight weeks they will be ready for love. But there's a method to Steven's madness. Steven's methodology consists of his rules of dating. Steven's rules are bold, insightful, and often hilarious. But most of all they offer an unapologetic glance into the male mind. The core of the series is Steven revealing the truth about what men really think when it comes to dating and women.

The women in this boot camp are desperate and single, but can't figure out why."

Desperate and single.

Sigh.

Because if you're a single woman, you must by definition be desperate, right?

Where do I begin? I'll start with what prompted this post. On an episode in season two, Steve had the desperate, single women meet with some older, desperate, single (some widowed) women to get a glimpse of what their futures would be like if they didn't settle down with a man soon. They were filled with regrets over some of their choices, and about the paths their lives had taken. Here is what the ballsy, cocky matchmaker said:

"I didn't want the girls to be afraid of growing old, but I do want them to be afraid of growing old alone." (Emphasis mine)

I actually gasped at that and had to watch that episode again to make sure I'd heard him correctly. Really? REALLY? This is the message women are supposed to take to heart? I mean, yeah, he's a matchmaker, and its in his best financial interests to keep perpetuating this notion. But what a horribly damaging thing to say, even on a cheesy cable dating show.

A few years ago, after several rounds of lame dates, it dawned on me that I might never find the partner I seek. And unlike what Steve, our cocky matchmaker suggests about most single women, I don't think that what I'm seeking is that outrageous. In fact, I think I have a pretty open mind about potential partners.

But I also realized that it was up to me, and me alone, to create a life that I find fulfilling even if I don't find the right guy. I'd been putting some things off - like traveling more - in large part because I didn't have anyone to travel with. That had to end, and I'm pleased that it has.

Here's what's amazing to me: the life I have now actually largely resembles the life I'd envisioned for myself when I was an adolescent, dreaming about what I wanted my life to be once I escaped the blah suburbs of SoCal. No one is more surprised by that than I, especially considering how unhappy I once was.

I've said this before, but it bears repeating - how horrifying would it be to get to the end of your life and feel like there was something fundamental missing? That you hadn't done the things you wanted to? I don't want that. And I really don't want to be in a relationship just because I'm supposed to be afraid to be alone. I will not settle for anything less than real, true love...and yes, I know what that feels like. There's nothing else like it.

I've been lonely alone, and lonely together (that was what much of my marriage was like) and believe me, the latter is far worse. There's nothing lonelier than being in a relationship that's dying a slow, painful death. And I may be single now, but I'm rarely lonely. One thing I've learned in the years since my divorce is that I have many amazing people in my life upon whom I can call when I need them. I'm really lucky. And I've also found that I enjoy my own company, and like doing some things on my own, even though I'm also quite a social animal (the two sides of my Gemini-ness, I suppose!).

So is my life any less valid than that of someone who's married and has kids? Seems like it, in our couples-centric culture. And don't even get me started on the idea that Valentine's Day was supposed to send me into this deep spiral of bitterness and regret because I'm single. Sorry, folks... it didn't. I love love. I love celebrating love.

And I'm blessed with a great deal of love in my life. It just doesn't look like what our culture seems to think it's suppposed to look like.

(Here's another single woman's take on singlehood. It's awesome.)

Just one of the countless reasons I heart NY...

2010-01-31T15:07:00.001-08:00

Why am I smiling in this picture? Because I'm holding a bag contaning two boxes full of yummy gluten-free baked goods from the infamous Babycakes on Manhattan's Lower East Side (at the start of the big snowstorm that blew through in December).

New York has lots of easy gluten-free eating. I can't tell you what a treat that is.

Listen, I'm lucky to live where I do, where great food is plentiful and chefs and restaurant staffers have some familiarity with food allergies* and how to handle them. But here's what I have to do when I dine out here, especially when considering a new eatery: I check the restaurant's menu online** to see if there are at least a couple of dishes that sound like they could be gluten-free, or easily modified to be safe for me.

Once I get to the restaurant, I alert my server and ask them about the dishes I'm interested in, and then they go to the kitchen to see if I can have any of them. I've only encountered one server who didn't handle this well (and in that case, once he alerted the kitchen, they took great care of me - even made a special amuse bouche just for me, yay). I've never been glutened accidentally, and I try to be really pleasant when quizzing my servers, so it works. Often, these folks will bend over backwards to take care of me, and I really appreciate that (and make sure I show it in my tip). Again, lucky.

But it's beyond wonderful to have an entire menu of gluten-free items to choose from, as I do at several places in New York. It takes me forever to make a decision because I'm not used to having so many options when I dine out. And many of these places are ITALIAN, meaning lots of gluten-free pasta and pizza! There's even a place that's doing gluten-free Chinese, which means I get to have potstickers again....yay! And now, a Mac & Cheese place that's ohhhh soooo good. They even put gf breadcrumbs on the mac...OMFG. There are so many places in NYC with gf menus that I haven't even had a chance to try them all yet.

Yeah, I know... it sounds silly to get so excited about this, but it really is a treat to be able to eat freely in so many places, especially when it's in a city I already adore. Living gluten-free isn't as hard as you might think, but it does require attention and planning, and dining out can be the most challenging part of it. With awareness - and diagnosis - of Celiac disease and gluten intolerance growing, I look forward to more restaurants jumping on the bandwagon and doing a better job outlining what they're serving.

*It's not a food allergy, actually, but an auto-immune disorder...but it's far easier to explain in a restaurant as a food allergy...!
**I don't know how anyone managed this without the internet. So many resources out there, and some great gf food bloggers, namely Gluten-Free Girl and Celiac Chicks. Also, check out the Gluten-Free Restaurant Awareness Program.

Read this now...

2010-01-23T13:06:00.000-08:00

This is one of the greatest things I've read on the subject of weight.

So tired of people expecting me to be miserable because of the way I look. Kristy has eloquently described how I feel much of the time.

How Do You Measure, Measure A Year?

2010-01-01T22:29:00.000-08:00

I keep searching for something profound to say about the year that's just ended and the new one that's begun, but I got nothin'. There were lots of highs and many lows in 2009, and one can't exist without the other, blah blah blah. I expect the same from 2010.

Jonathan Larson said it better than I could anyway.

525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?

In daylights? In sunsets?
In midnights, in cups of coffee?
In inches? In miles? In laughter, in strife?

In 525,6000 minutes
How do you measure a year in the life?

How about love?
How about love?
How about love?
Measure in love

Seasons of love
Seasons of love

525,600 minutes
525,000 journeys to plan
525,500 minutes
How do you measure the life of a woman or a man?

In truths that she learned?
Or in times that he cried?
In the bridges he burned?
Or the way that she died?

It's time now to sing out
Though the story never ends
Let's celebrate, remember a year in the life of friends

Remember the love
Remember the love
Remember the love
Measure in love

Measure your life in love

I'm a lucky girl, surrounded by lots of love. What else matters?

Hau'oli Makahiki Hou! Here's to more highs than lows this year, for all of us.

(I can't even hear the first few notes of this song without the waterworks starting!)

Weighty issues...

2009-12-11T21:30:00.000-08:00

I recently had the opportunity to see a taped excerpt from one of our performing group's shows from several years ago. In his introduction to one of the dances, our Kumu told the audience a story (Hawaiians love to "talk story") about how someone from his childhood came to one of the shows and asked him why he put the fat girl up front.

(That's me with my lovely hula sister Katrina, decked out for the small group dance in October's show.)

Kumu told the audience he was really bothered by that comment, and couldn't understand it, because all he saw when he watched this woman dance was something really beautiful, and he felt sorry for the person who made that remark. And then said he wanted to show the audience something really beautiful.

It was a dance featuring the heaviest women in the halau. And I burst into tears watching his introduction and their beautiful dance. It made me love him all the more. I mean, I know by the way he treats us - treats me - that he feels this way, but I had no idea he'd taken on this issue in a show.

The reason I stayed away from dance for so many years was my weight. I gained a lot of weight after I stopped dancing in college and never felt like I was in the right shape to take a dance class. I kept telling myself I'd do it once I got into better shape, but tick tock, tick tock, there I was in my early 40's, still not dancing, until my dear friend Rebecca suggested hula, in part because (as I've mentioned before) it's forgiving of many body types, even though it is far more challenging than I could ever have imagined.

The irony of my life is that people were telling me I was fat when I wasn't - hello, middle school hell - and I internalized that. It didn't match with the way I saw myself, but when your peers are mocking you for the way you look, you can't help but think they must be right, especially during those hideous years of awkward adolescence. I was taller than everyone else, and developed sooner. I didn't look like everyone else, and that's the time in your life when all you want is to blend in. I so wish I'd had the strength to ignore the cruelty of my peers, but I simply didn't. So I've always assumed that everyone sees me the way they saw me. (Well, not everyone - not my friends. Have I mentioned how lucky I am in the friend department??)

One of the amazing things about hula is that people there see ME, the REAL me, the me I think I am, deep down. The me I've always thought I was but lost somewhere along the way through adolescence. The positive feedback I get there astonishes me. People ask to follow me as I dance, they praise my chanting (that's the biggest shock), and not once has anyone ever said a word about my size. Some of my hula siblings say they actually ADMIRE me. I can't express how much this all means to me.

The other night in class, Kumu talked about how we have to make ourselves vulnerable in order to show what we're feeling as we dance so that we're not just up there with empty smiles. I actually feel safe enough in hula to do that, and believe me, it's not easy for me to make myself vulnerable to anyone, for any reason. But the love and acceptance I receive in hula makes it impossible to keep the walls up. One of my hula sisters recently called me at work, and said she laughed when she heard the voice mail message, because I sound so serious and so professional - she thinks the laughing, silly person she knows from hula is the real me. I have to agree.

And I thought I was just taking a dance class!

A few more pics...

2009-11-15T15:43:00.000-08:00

A few more photos, borrowed from my hula siblings. That's us gathering outside our dressing room before heading into the wings to start Lili'u E, the small group dance I was in. Notice our hula sisters are also gathering to make sure we're put together properly and to lend support. (I'm the giant blurry girl at the end there.)
This is my amazing Kumu, smothered by all the leis he received from us as gifts. I've said it before and I'll say it again - I feel so fortunate to be learning from him. He is incredibly gifted.
The view from the wings as the more avanced students danced. Notice how bright those lights are? Blinding, as you walk on stage.

That's the stage on which we danced, as Kumu rehearsed the other classes. Looking at this, I get butterflies all over again.

And here's a little sample of what the performing group does. Oh. My. GOD. That's my Kumu opening the piece, and chanting all the way through*. If this looks easy, it's a testament to how good they are, how unified they are. (Notice the final position the women are in - that's hula noho.)

It's worth noting that the staging, the costumes, and the chants are all creations of my Kumu. This piece is based on a story written by another, but he's the one who turned it into hula. If you'd like to see more, click here. Definitely check out the Hit & Run Hula videos.

*I just love to hear him chant. During each performance, I'd step out of the dressing room so I could hear the first chant of the show better - it's one we haven't learned yet, but he hits this note in it that's just...spine-tingling.

Not sure I have the words...

2009-11-08T18:00:00.000-08:00

...to describe that amazing hula-filled weekend, which is ironic, because, as Kumu likes to remind us, there is no hula without words.

You will, however, find lots of words here, poorly organized.

I didn't think any hula experience could top last year's big recital, which was our "public" unveiling. I never really wrote in depth about that experience because I couldn't explain why it was so overwhelming. Unexpectedly so.

I was wrong. This was so much bigger. It involved our entire halau, from the dance company to we "beginners" (funny that after three years, we're still considered beginners!). The 260 (give or take) of us were on a stage where professionals perform, in a theatre where I've sat and audienced* many, many times. In fact, I was there just a few weeks before our performances and was really daunted looking at that stage, realizing I'd be there very soon.

It was a bonding experience like no other, and not just because there were dozens of us in the same dressing room! Seriously - there were about 50-60 of us sharing one dressing room. I don't think I've ever been so sweaty and so naked in front of so many people. Ever.

Here are some of us in that dressing room before the dress rehearsal on the first performance day. Before the torrential sweat on me, and only after some brief nudity.

It was not unlike a slumber party, in that we all helped each other dress, put on makeup, worked on each other's hair, practiced our dances, and laughed ourselves silly. The only thing missing was the pillow fight and the freezing of the bra of the first person to fall asleep.

What was truly amazing was how we all came together to make everything work. Everyone took such good care of each other. You rarely had to ask for help, because people were either already offering help or just doing what needed to be done. It could have been really hard having that many people in so little space with so many costumes, accessories, and hula implements, but it worked with little difficulty.

It gave me the room to really focus on my dancing. Well, no - I was trying to focus on my expression while dancing. I know the steps to each of these dances well, so I figured if I just took my brain out that equation and let my muscle memory handle that, I'd be fine. The real game-changer is what goes on on your face in hula. something Kumu's been trying to drill into our minds for as long as I can remember. So every time I set foot on stage, I tried to remember all he's told us, and to really feel what each song or chant was about.

It was really helpful to have seen the dance company perform the week before, as I got an excellent reminder of what Kumu's been talking about. I was bound and determined not to have an empty smile on my face for the 'auana (modern) dances, and to really pour everything I had into our kahiko (ancient) dances, especially the hula ma'i, which is...um...about...um... procreation. I think it's easy to forget that we're not just dancing, but telling stories in hula.

Speaking of expressive dancers, that's my gorgeous hula sister Felicia with me, prepping for our kahiko hula segment. It's impossible not to watch while she dances, and not just because she's so stunning. She's such a beautiful dancer. I aspire to dance as well as she does.

But these performances really weren't about us as individuals, but us as a group. The goal is always to connect, to really feel each other's energy, and to dance as if we are one. Not always easy when you're in a group of 90 people.

I had some nerve-wracking moments during our tech rehearsals, when I realized that when the second act started, the first thing the audience would see was me. I was seated front and center for our hula noho, and the split in the curtain was about a foot from my face. The first time it opened in rehearsal, I said under my breath, "holy shit!" As I said in a previous post, the opening of that curtain took my breath away. My view was of this big black expanse, with lights that brightened the wider the curtain got. It was scary.

But here's what was so stunning: by the time of our first performance, I was no longer nervous, because I could FEEL the amazing energy of the 88 people around and behind me. It was awesome. Powerful. I wish I could have taken a camera on stage with me to show you the view I had as we were setting our positions during intermission. It was spectacular, with everyone in their costumes and their greenery. And the dance felt easier than it ever had because I felt the power of the group. It was one of many transcendent moments of the weekend.

That's my lovely hula sister Belinda with me. She's one of the funniest people I've ever met and has a laugh that's as infectious as her gorgeous smile. We must look weird when we go out together because of that height differential (I'm seated here!).

How can I describe to you the experience of the special dance I was a part of, Lili'u E? I get teary-eyed everytime I think about it.

Sweaty me and my lovely hula sister Katrina, ready for Lili'u E. Those stunning leis were given to us at the end of the last performance, as a gift. Because getting to do this dance wasn't gift enough!

As I mentioned in a previous post, we spent a lot of time working on this dance together to really make it everything it could be. We had to learn a new chant for our stage entrance, and had to learn to get into noho (that seated hula position again) together, and then chant and dance as though we were swimming (we keep calling ourselves the Lili'u E Swim Team). All of those hours working together really bonded us, but also made the dance something really special.

At least, that's the feedback we've gotten. I really have no idea how it looked and sounded to the audience, but I can tell you how it felt: powerful and effortless, by the time we took the stage. By then, it felt like second-nature to dance with these eight women as though we were one, in honor of a great woman. And because I was behind them all -- we had kind of a diamond formation -- I could see all of them as we danced. It was a gorgeous sight, one I'll never forget.

We took a moment in the wings before each performance to gather and hold hands for a "pule," which means prayer. We didn't actually pray, but took the time to recognize how special this was to each of us, and to connect once more before stepping on the stage. One of the people who helps run the halau, who also helped us prepare for this dance joined us, and his words of support and encouragement were so touching and heartfelt that I'm tearing up again just thinking about them.

And the response from our hula siblings was amazing. If anyone still had hurt feelings about not getting chosen for this, it didn't show. Not only did our hula sisters help us get into these costumes, complete with a total hairstyle change, they helped us get out of them and back into those floral dresses you see in those 'auana pictures, in the span of two songs. They lined up outside our dressing room to cheer for us as we returned. They reworked our hair for our final dance. And no one complained about how sweaty I was! (Seriously, I was so sweaty that the greenery kept sticking to me and I couldn't get it off. On Saturday night, I went home with a maile leaf in my bra.)

We also had help from the women of the performing group, who were such a calming. supportive presence. They essentially directed those fast costume changes, and made them so much easier than I thought they'd be. And they kept complimenting our chanting on Lili'u E, which was high praise indeed. These are women who've been dancing hula most of their lives and they are phenomenal on stage. And off.

I can't express enough how lucky I feel to have been part of Lili'u E. During class last week, when we were sharing our thoughts about the performances, we got a big cheer from our hula siblings yet again and we all teared up yet again. It's striking that we ALL feel the same way about this experience. The emails we've sent each other since the big weekend have been overflowing with emotion and love. We keep joking that there's no crying in hula, but we're ridiculous with the tears...!

Remember when I was talking about what a freak I felt like dancing between two extremely gorgeous women? That's them on either side of me in this picture, Arlene and Christy (and our lovely sis Tina on the end). All wonderful women, and I was lucky to dance between such warm, lovely spirits.

It felt very much like being in a cocoon of Aloha all weekend, and as exhausted as I was when it was over, I was sorry to leave that cocoon. My hula brothers and sisters seem equally as reluctant to leave it, so it feels like we're trying to bring that feeling to class. Class has always been a special place, but we're now even closer than before, and I think that will make that slightly dingy and cold multi-purpose room at a local elementary school feel even more like my special happy place.

I think I've said this before, but it bears repeating - I can't believe I didn't know any of these people 3 1/2 years ago, because now I can't imagine my life without them. What a gift hula is.

(I'll post some more pics soon.)

*i know that's not a word. i don't care.

Before I forget...

2009-10-26T00:01:00.000-07:00

*EDITED TO ADD A FEW MORE THOUGHTS*

A few random memories from this amazing weekend:

Spray tanning with one hula sister and then spending the rest of my Friday making a lei po'o (head lei) with a group of sisters who made that lengthy crafting experience so much fun.

The overcrowded, hot dressing room that I'll miss.

The cheers from my hula sisters as my small group left the stage after that special dance at each show. They lined up along a makeshift hallway to greet us as we headed back to the dressing room, smiling, hands in the air in a silent cheer. Awesome. (That's us in that picture.)

The praise from my Kumu.

The hugs and words of support from my friends who came out to see the shows.

The smiles from my hula siblings when we'd make eye contact on stage.

The help from so many people during a couple of quick (and very sweaty) costume and hair changes - my god, my hula sisters rock and I felt so cared for in their hands.

My hula brothers arranging my pa'u (skirt) as we sat in noho on stage, waiting for the second act to begin.

The moment my hula sister Arlene grabbed my hand before we opened the second act at one show and held it, so we could connect (really important when a large group dances). Took my nerves away.

That feeling when the curtain opened on me (quite literally) for the second act. Took my breath away each time.

Watching my Kumu dance in the wings while his students were on stage.

The dancers from the performing group helping us get ready, make quick changes, and cheering for us as we went on the stage and when we came off.

Standing in a circle and holding hands with my hula sisters offstage before we went on for our special dance at each show. I can't tell you how close I feel to these women now after sharing that experience with them.

Standing on stage with all 260 students at the end of the show, especially after the curtain closed after the final performance - no one wanted to leave.

The strange mix of exhiliration and sadness now that it's all over.

The gorgeous crown flower lei from a hula sister, and the gorgeous lei we wore during the special dance, which were then given to us as a gift. I don't want to take them off.

The camaraderie, the hard work, the sweat, the tears, the love... the music , the chanting, and especially the dancing.

Wow. Just....wow. I'm awed by the experience.

He inoa no Lili'uokalani...*

2009-10-23T20:24:00.000-07:00

The world works in mysterious ways.

The place where I get lunch most days has its stereo tuned to a classical music radio station. Yesterday, as I was putting together my salad, I hear the DJ talking about the music of Hawaii - apparently, that was a theme yesterday - which seemed odd, because who's ever heard Hawaiian music on a classical station?

And then the DJ said the next selection was an orchestral version of something composed by Queen Lili'uokalani. She was Hawaii's last monarch, the one overthrown by some American businessmen in another delightful chapter of our nation's history. She was also a prolific composer - "Aloha Oe" is probably her most famous song. She is beloved and revered in Hawaii.

She's also the subject of the special dance I'm doing in this weekend's hula performances, which is why hearing that on the radio stopped me in my tracks and gave me goosebumps.

I hope to do her proud.

* that means "in the name of..." and it's what we say at the end of the dance.

One of these things is not like the other...

2009-10-18T16:51:00.000-07:00

So, as I stand in my line-up for the hula performance, I look to my right. There I see a lovely, slender young woman of some mixed Asian heritage who's a lovely dancer. To my left, a lovely slender woman of Japanese/Hawaiian descent who is exactly what you picture when you say "hula dancer" - long, dark hair, brown skin...she's just gorgeous.

And I can't help but laugh. What's the so-pale-she's-translucent*, chubby Irish-Italian girl DOING in between them?? I so do not look the part. And I'm by far the chubbiest girl in that front row, and in the smaller special performance I'm doing. I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.

This is another reason I appreciate my Kumu: he doesn't hide the chubby girls. There are a couple of rounder women in the performing group, and they get as much exposure as the thinner dancers.

When my dear friend Rebecca first tried to sell me on hula several years ago, I remember her saying it was very forgiving of different body types. But when we first started this journey, I was stunned by how hard hula is. I was soaked with sweat at the end of that first class, and I think we only worked on one step that night, maybe two! There are things we do now that I never thought I'd be able to do. I remember how rubbery my thighs felt for months as we were learning the basics.

And lately, because I've been sick, I've really been struggling - it's hard to catch your breath when you're coughing...while dancing, chanting, and oh, yeah, having some sort of expression on your face that says something other than, "I'm dying." I've been making lots of stupid mistakes in dances we've been doing for ages, often right in front of Kumu - GAAH. But nothing's been more challenging than getting up off of the floor.

I know. What?? I'm doing two hula nohos, or seated hulas, which aren't really seated. Let me explain: get on your knees, with your feet straight out behind them. Now sit on your feet. Now lean back a little. That's the starting position. Now spend three to four minutes dancing in that position, hips moving, going up and down on your knees a few times, while chanting. Do a lot of leaning back to get that full thigh stretch. Now get up quickly AND gracefully.

Shut up. I can't do it. That's a lot of weight resting on top of my feet - that's where all the pressure hits on me - and if I dance properly, with a lot of movement, then that really puts pressure on them. And it's a weird position for my ankles, as they get stretched in a strange way. It takes a lot of life out of my ankles and feet, so they're well on the way to being numb by the time we're done.

When it's time to get up, all the younger, thinner folks seem to have no trouble, while I've spent the last few weeks focusing almost exclusively on that. In one dance, I'm front and center when I have to get up gracefully (with stones in my hands!) and in the other, I'm in that small group and very visible. I don't think I can overstate how stressed I've been over this one detail. I was convinced I'd get moved to another row, or out of the small group because I just can't pull myself up with any sort of grace.

The "hallelujiah" moment came a few days ago, when I was on my living room floor, trying to train my feet to get more accustomed to the stretch they experience in noho, not to mention the weight. The more you do it, the easier it gets, so I've been spending more and more time every day in this position. I finally found a little trick to provide myself more support as I rise. And I've been able to do it consistently since then. And in class Thursday night, I finally felt strong, made no mistakes, and actually felt like I danced well. For the first time in weeks.

Got my mojo back, just in time. It feels good. Still, this morning, during our first rehearsal on the stage on which we're performing next weekend, my mouth went dry when I danced up front because, um, WOW, that's really front and center. Holy COW. But I finally feel ready. I'll let you know how it goes.

*Getting a spray tan on Friday. Gotta do something...!

Hula, hula, hula...

2009-10-04T21:55:00.000-07:00

Yep, it's another long hula post, as in my life right now, it's all hula, all the time.

We have a rare performance coming up. No, you're not crazy... we had a big thing just last year. In our halau, there aren't really any performances after the big ho'ike that comes two years into your hula studies. I mean, some of us have been involved in smaller things since then - for instance, I danced at a school fundraiser, and at a dance studio open house, and we go out and dance when Hawaiian musicians are on the bill around town, but there's no big group performance organized by our Kumu.

Later this month, though, instead of the big annual show involving our halau's performing group (it's really a dance company), there's a big recital featuring the students in all the classes (there are four). In a real theatre. On a big stage. People are buying tickets for this one. It's mostly family and friends of my hula siblings, but still... this is a big deal for us. And because our Kumu is known for staging really great shows, he's pulling out all the stops for this - as many as he can with a bunch of amateurs.

One of the great things about our halau is that all students are treated equally, regardless of age, ability, background.... none of that matters. That's part of what makes this entire experience so special - you have hundreds of people from all walks of life coming together to create this lovely, loving community.

Sure, we're all aware who the stronger dancers are, and who the "leaders" of the classes are - the ones who rarely miss, who keep up with all we're supposed to learn, who get involved when there are class projects to be done - but our Kumu treats us all the same. So it was a real eye-opener when the time came to set the lines for where we'll dance on the stage for our performance, because it was the first time we got to see how Kumu and the others who run the halau see us. We became aware a few months ago that they were watching us very closely - they were talking among themselves and pointing discreetly at people as we danced, so for a few weeks there, it felt like an audition, though they never said what they were up to. It was a key time to try to dance well.

It's incredibly gratifying that I've been placed in the front row for most of the dances we're doing. And because he arranges us according to height, with the tall people in the center, I'm front and center for much of what my class is doing. (I'm also the chubbiest girl up front, but that's a subject for another post). It's a big change from the plays and dance performances of my youth, where I always ended up in the back because I was taller than everyone else...!

I'm also one of eight people from my class (there are 90 dancing in the show) chosen to do an extra dance, one of our more challenging ones. This was a shock, as we had no idea he was planning any such thing, and -- I don't mean this to sound like I'm bragging, because that's not what I'm trying to express -- it's a tremendous honor. I couldn't even speak when we were told. At the risk of sounding like a cult member, I'm in awe of my Kumu's creativity and talent, so it's stunning to me to receive what is essentially a thumbs-up from him. I feel very fortunate to be learning from him, and deeply honored to get his approval.

It's also a huge challenge. The bar has been raised. It's very intense working with Kumu in a small group for a special performance, as every little move has to be perfect and we have to really move together as a unit. We're almost re-learning the dance. This is one we do on the ground, with our legs folded beneath us and all of our weight on our ankles and feet, and when you spend a long time in that position, it's excruciating...especially when you get sick and hardly move for a week and a half, as I did...and then go to practice and spend so much time working so hard in noho (that's what that position is called) that you can barely dance on your feet for the rest of the night... and can hardly walk for three days after. I'm not exaggerating!

And because I'd missed the first practice with the small group when I was sick, most of the feedback that night was directed at me. I was so sore and so rattled by the intensity of that session that I couldn't focus well for the rest of the night, which was my regular class. I was making mistakes left and right on dances we've been doing for eons. In the front row. In front of Kumu. For the first time ever, I was watching the clock because I wanted to stop dancing! That was the toughest night I've ever had in hula, and I really started to doubt that I was up to this challenge, and that was a feeling that persisted for a good week or two after. I even had a few hula anxiety dreams.

And then I got sick again (or relapsed into something worse). Only this time, I knew I couldn't miss any more classes or practice sessions, because what I need to do now is ramp up the workouts and the practice sessions so that I CAN live up to this challenge. It's just that this nasty-ass cough I've had has made it really hard to dance well.

It was reassuring to learn that my hula sisters in this smaller group are also feeling the pressure, and we've been scheduling all sorts of additional practice sessions on our own, and they're paying off. Our last practice went really well and we all felt the difference. And my cough is fading so I'm feeling much more optimistic about this performance. There is still much work to be done, and I really have to work my ass off this month to improve my strength and stamina and make up for lost time.

The unfortunate thing about this experience is that some folks in my class have been grumbling about their placement on the stage for the performance, and some are wondering why they weren't chosen for the extra dance (no announcement was ever made about that, BTW - people are finding out because they're seeing us practice before our regular class). I won't lie; I would probably have felt envious if I weren't being rewarded as I am, but I also work hard in hula, because I love it so. I know the dances, I know the words to the songs and chants, I know how to "perform" on stage. I feel a responsibility to get it right largely because this is part of a culture that's not my own, and it would be really offensive to be a hula dilettante. It's nice to know I'm doing something right, but also humbling - in a good way - to be reminded that there is still so much more to learn and so much more work to do.

So, yeah...

2009-09-27T21:40:00.001-07:00

I actually remembered my Blogger password! I've been away from here for so long, I wasn't sure I remembered how to do this.

Anyway. hi! How are you? Most of you are my friends on Facebook now, so you already know what I've been up to, but I do have something I want to write about in greater detail, such as our latest challenge in hula.

It's a doozy. More to come.

In the meantime, I actually updated my blogroll, so those of you who are writing in new locations are there now. Yay! I didn't have the heart to delete anyone who seems to be on hiatus, because I'm hoping for an update....someday. (Like I have room to talk...)

Aloha!

How did THAT happen??

2009-06-11T22:32:00.000-07:00

45.

I'm 45.

Fortyfuckingfive.

How did I get to be 45??

I haven't felt all that festive about this birthday. Not because of my advanced age (!!!), but because of a major upheaval at work this week. I'm still employed; someone very close to me is not. I've been assured that my job is safe as it can be in these uncertain times in my crumbling industry, but it's been a very rough few days, watching an old friend and longtime colleague - the person responsible for hiring me - lose his job. And trying to lead the troops while helping him pack up his office and tie up loose ends. And trying to keep the tears at bay.

For weeks, people have been asking if I had any big plans for my birthday. I think they were all disappointed when I told them I was planning to go to hula. And considering the way the week turned out, it was the best possible way to spend my birthday evening.

I was enveloped by the love and Aloha of my hula ohana, had lots of laughs with them, and got to do something that has come to mean so much to me. I'm so grateful for it for countless reasons, most of which I can't articulate. And I felt like a different person at the end of the night....in a GOOD way.

Here's hoping I'm hula'ing for many birthdays to come.

Epilogue...*

2009-05-29T21:33:00.000-07:00

So I reached out one last time, largely to tell him I thought it was pretty cold to just go silent the way he had, and that it surprised me coming from him, since he seemed to be a man of integrity and manners. And added that it's much kinder, if you want to end things, to just say so.

A few days later, I got a reply: said he hadn't realized he'd gone silent until he'd gotten my note. And that he hadn't intended to end anything.

Um, wha?? By this time, it had been three weeks since we'd talked/emailed. And I'd made three attempts to reach him before that last note.

He did say he realized he hadn't been putting in the time or effort he needed to. But really, in our constantly connected age, how can you not notice you've not made contact with someone you' ve been dating for that long?

So I replied with essentially that message, and that it troubled me that he didn't think that was a long gap....but that (perhaps foolishly) I was leaving the door open.

Why? I know myself pretty well. I know I don't often meet men I like as much as I liked him, and if there was a way to make this work, I'd be willing to explore that. Not to the point of subjugating my needs, mind you.

His reply, bullshit, or no? He's not in a place in his life right now where he can be consistent or reliable in a relationship, way too much on his plate, yada yada yada.... would like to stay in touch, though. Yada.

You might wonder, as I did, what the hell he was doing on a dating site then, but he's since deleted his profile.

Who knows what's really going on in his life, but I have no regrets about anything I said or did in that...whatever you want to call it.

So now I'm back to the land of getting hit on by guys who are much older than I, and also dudes in their 20's who are apparently hoping for some cougar action. Eccch. Oh, and then there's the guy I was supposed to meet tonight who flaked on me. (S'alright - he has the same name as my ex-husband, and I don't think I could date another guy with that name!)

So tired of flaky guys. My "delete profile" finger's getting very itchy again...

*Apparently, this blog is now a Quinn-Martin Production: The Dork of San Francisco!

Well, that was...fun?

2009-05-05T22:08:00.001-07:00

God, I hate being such a cliche.

So, the guy has suddenly vanished. I've reached out a few times since I last heard from him (and everything seemed entirely fine) but the silence now is deafening. It's clear to me that I've been blown off.

I am, as you might expect, perplexed. And a little more sad than I expected. It's rare for me to meet a guy I like as much as I liked him, especially online. But I know it's better to find out now that it's not going to work out than later, when I'm in even deeper.

I know it's uncomfortable to end things in an honorable fashion, but just disappearing with no explanation is so much worse.

I give up.

Onward.

On my soap box for a moment...

2009-04-15T23:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, this clearly hit a nerve with me.

You've seen the Susan Boyle video, right? From "Britain's Got Talent?"

I can't tell you how annoyed I am that it's linked all over the internet as a reason not to judge a book by its cover.

Tell me, what is wrong with her cover, exactly? Because she doesn't fall into our culture's extremely narrow standard of youthful beauty she clearly has no value? She's to be laughed at? And it's a huge surprise that she has an amazing voice?

OH. MY. GOD. People. WAKE THE FUCK UP.

We have to stop marginalizing each other. For any reason. Looks, race, age, background... whatever.

I have spent so much time and energy throughout my life feeling bad about myself because I don't fit into the standard, either, and this was made very clear to me at a very tender, impressionable age. It's the number one reason I have such terrible memories of my adolescence in Barbie-land.

We are damaging people with this shit.

Knock it off. I'm trying to do the same.

I really, really, really like this guy...

2009-04-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

I don't really have much to add at this point, as our last couple of dates have been on the brief side -- he's busy, I'm busy -- but it's all good. Really good.

I'm not sure if I mentioned he has kids; he has them every weekend. He's now talking about changing those arrangements so that he has some of his weekends free.

Note: I would never ask a father to give up time with his children -- kids come first, always , and I've told him how I feel about that -- but I have to admit it makes me smile to know that he's looking for ways to find more room in his life for me.

*Sigh.

Once upon a time...

2009-03-26T21:13:00.000-07:00

... there was a dorky girl who was bored and sick and cranky about her lousy, overwhelming December. And even though she said she'd never do it again, she signed up for an online dating service, and...

Okay, already I have to stop writing in the third person. I'm annoying the hell out of myself.

Let's start over. Settle in for a long read.

Back in December, when I was sick and bored, I signed up for an online dating service, despite my vow never to do so again. Why? I was inspired by a couple of longtime single friends who'd recently started new relationships with people they'd met online. And a couple of you -- I'm looking at you and you -- had written more than once about a service you'd liked. I figured there was no harm in it, though I really didn't expect anything to come of it.

After a few weeks of those never-ending inappropriate emails from strangers (and I do mean strange), along with notes from a few interesting guys who suddenly fell off the face of the earth, one fella I'd been chatting with suggested a meeting. Let's have dessert, he said, which I found utterly charming.

Note: you're going to see some form of the word "charming" frequently in this post.

Dessert. Cute. Not as big a commitment as dinner, in case it's a horror match right off the bat, but more creative than coffee.

When we met, dessert actually became dinner. A few hours after we parted, in the wee hours of the morning, I got a really cute text from him, saying that he'd had a great time, couldn't sleep because of it, and asking when he could see me again.

The truth is, I couldn't sleep either, because that was the best first date I've ever had. Ever. Great conversation, lots of common ground, lots of laughter. He asked lots of interesting questions. He's smart, funny, attractive, and yes, charming. Likes theatre. Likes New York! For fun, he plays bass and guitar, and when he talked about why that's so important to him, he used the very same words I use when I talk about what hula means to me. There was a lot of vigorous nodding on both sides of the table as we talked, because it seemed we agreed on so many things.

My tossing and turning that night was all about my hope that I'd made a good impression on him. I was, to say the least, intrigued. And completely charmed by his text when I awoke all bleary and cranky from lack of sleep the next morning.

I saw him a few days later, and that was another great date. At one point while we were out, he intervened in a lovers' quarrel turned violent, and managed to not only stop these two bozos from pummeling each other further, but got them talking to each other again, calmly. If you've seen the movie "The Tao of Steve,"* this is the moment wherein he was Excellent In My Presence.

By this time, I was smitten. I couldn't remember (still can't) the last time I'd met a man that was so easy to be with. And of course, this is when the worry started... as in, this can't be real. It's too good to be true, right? When's the other shoe going to drop? Have I dropped my guard too quickly?

The thing is, he completely disarmed me. I couldn't help but drop my guard. It all felt so right, so easy, which was stunning to me.

My worries were magnified by the amount of time it took for us to schedule our next date. He's as busy as I am, so finding a mutually agreeable evening was challenging, but we did it.

It was pouring rain when he came to pick me up that night, and I had suggested that he just park around the corner and wait for me to come down when he arrived at my building (no reason to park the car in this city just to pick me up) but when I got downstairs, he was outside the front door, with an umbrella, to shield ME during the ten foot walk to the car.

Who does that? I mean, really. Who? I couldn't believe it. Needless to say, this was another delightful evening. Oh MY.

But then... silence. Well, we had a brief, pleasant email exchange a few days later, but I didn't hear from him after that, which is what prompted that last post. I know men often say things they don't really mean to women, but he just didn't seem like the type.

Yes, I'm aware that I'm a little naive and idealistic about relationships.

Seriously, though... from what (admittedly little) I knew about him, he seemed like a man of integrity, and he certainly said and did alllllll the right things to make me think he was sincere. I'm very busy and he's very busy, but still... 2 1/2 weeks of silence is far too long if you're actually interested in seeing someone again. Something had clearly gone awry.

So I was faced with a dilemma: do I try to contact him, or do I let it lie, because, you know, He's Just Not That Into You? Even though he really seemed to be?

Ultimately, and after much internal debate and quizzing of friends (and thank you for your insights, friends!), I decided not to let it lie. I can't remember the last time I clicked with someone like this, so it seemed to me that it was worth giving it another shot. So I emailed him a sort of "WTF?" note.

He called me almost immediately to apologize and explain what had been going on in his life, and asked if we could pick up where we left off when I got back from New York (this was the night before I left).

Whew. And yay. Except several days later, when I emailed to see if he wanted to join me for a show I had tickets to a few days after my return, he didn't reply. I was really baffled by this, because why the hell would he have called me if he was going to blow me off?

He called me the day I returned home, and scored points for actually remembering when I was getting home. Apologized for the slow reply, asked if the invitation still stood. Part of me wanted to say no, on principle, but I said yes, knowing that we'd have to have a little chat about communication and my needs in this area.

I didn't even have to bring it up -- he did. We cleared that up, had a wonderful evening, and he did the right thing in sending a most charming text the next day. Oh, the things he says to me.... And I saw him again a few nights ago, so I am pleased with the way things are going, if a tad wary. It's still early, after all.

Because I LIKE him like him. He's really something else. And completely unexpected.

*if you haven't, you really should. ignore the lame art on the DVD cover -- it's one of my favorite movies! so cleverly written.

If I just got played...

2009-03-01T17:58:00.000-08:00

...that was a really good game!

Details to come, but let's just say there's been a long (to me) gap in communication that's left me completely baffled. And a little surprised.

What's that old saying, about if something seems too good to be true, it probably is? Yeeeaaahh.

At any rate, in a week I'll be in New York City, so that's my focus right now. And I can't wait to get there!

It's far too soon to write about this...

2009-02-14T00:52:00.000-08:00

...but I've already learned a great lesson, so here goes...

Early last year, for several months, I was spending some time with a guy. We were kinda sorta a little bit dating, but it was always a little unclear. It's too difficult to explain why, so just go with it. It fizzled out -- well, it was going nowhere, so I took a big step away from the whole situation. I was impatient. It seemed pointless.

And it wasn't at all difficult to step away, which meant one of two things: it wasn't right, or I had truly become a commitment-phobe. For a few years now, I've been wondering whether I've been single for so long that I couldn't let anyone in anymore. It took me a long time to build a new life that I liked after my divorce, and I thought maybe I'd done such a good job that I'd forgotten how to be in a relationship.

A few years prior, I dated a really great guy. Smart, considerate, great to talk to, liked me a lot.... but I had no physical attraction to him. I knew I had to end it the first time he kissed me, because I wanted him to stop.

A very dear friend of mine has been convinced that I wasn't attracted to him BECAUSE he liked me. That I was only attracted to "bad boys." I've certainly shown some poor judgment along the way, but I don't like the bad boy thing at all. AT ALL. But still, I wondered if maybe she was a little bit right, because I sometimes find myself feeling very uncomfortable being pursued.

At the same time, I've always believed deep down that once I met the right person, things would fall into place. It wouldn't be so complicated. This isn't supposed to be so complicated, right? I mean, relationships are challenging, but it shouldn't be so hard for one to get off the ground. Either you have a connection with someone, or you don't. And the connection has to be both emotional and physical for something more than a friendship to develop.

I know now that I was right about that. I don't want to say anything more just yet, for fear of jinxing anything, but... wow. Just... wow.

Happy Valentine's Day, all!

Okay, SERIOUSLY...

2009-02-02T23:26:00.001-08:00

...this nuttiness has to stop!

Remember all the ups and downs I mentioned recently? (yeah, I know... "recently" here has become "a month ago." Whatevs.) They continue.

I am starting to see a light at the end of the tunnel... maybe... and one of those ups has been really great. And surprising. But I can't really talk about it yet -- that might jinx it.

For now, I leave you with this: I can't believe how nice it is not to be wholly embarassed by the President of the United States. To actually... ADMIRE him. Wow!

Umm...

2009-01-18T12:00:00.001-08:00

2009's not impressing me so far. It's keeping the same tone as the end of 2008, and I don't. Like. It. Not one bit.

Things have got to get better, right? I mean, take a look at the Bush Countdown Clock down there. I never thought this presidency would come to an end.

Here's to better days.

...and days of Auld Lang Syne...

2008-12-31T21:58:00.000-08:00

(Blogger is making it impossible for me to lay this out the way I want!)

It's the obligatory end-of-the-year post!

You may have thought from that last whiny entry that I'd had a bad year. Far from it. Just a bad month. Much of 2008 was fantastic.

For instance, there was that great trip to New York in March. Which I never blogged about! But here are a couple of pics. Above, the Village. My favorite neighborhood in Manhattan. I was trying to capture the flavor without looking like a total tourist dork, but didn't succeed on either count.

Below, the view from Brooklyn. Even on a gloomy-ish winter day, it's spectacular.

Then there was Hawai'i in the fall. One of my best vacations ever. Didn't really have a chance to blog about that in full either, but hey! More pictures!

I call this one View From A Toe:

And hula. Thank goodness for hula. We had our public "unveiling" this year, and I promise I WILL soon try to explain why that was such an amazingly emotional, spiritual day. Until then, here's another picture. Can you find the dork? She's in there !

So many of those people in that picture are now dear friends of mine, and we really were ohana that day. I'm still in awe of it.

In fact, I'm in awe of all of the dear friends in my life. They - you! - and the time I get to spend with them are the true highlights of this or any year.

Happy New Year!

It's the most... wonderf.... oh, shaddup!

2008-12-26T21:02:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I'm not feeling so festive this holiday season.

This has been a very trying month. No, I can't really explain. Listen, everyone's having a tough time at work these days... and I'm glad I'm still employed, which is no small thing at this time, in my business.

Still...my life is entirely bipolar. The good stuff is really good. Great, in fact. I am unbelievably lucky and have had some big laughs this month. But the lows are really, really shitty and completely draining.

However, when I hit those lows (and I hit several sinkholes this week, highlighted by a moment in Whole Foods when I nearly burst into tears when it looked like they didn't have the Chocolate Decadence cake I was to take to Christmas dinner. yes, a little hormonal, on top of everything else!) I am doing all I can to remember that soon, there will be a high to counteract the low.

See, lucky. Not everyone has that. I get that. I do.

I've also been trying not to infect the festive people around me with my shitty attitude. Thankfully, I caught the key parts of "It's A Wonderful Life" on Christmas Eve, so I could have a much-needed weep session.

I'm just beyond ready to kiss this December goodbye. C'mon, 2009...

This is what happens when you play the know-it-all card too often...

2008-11-24T22:55:00.001-08:00

It seems I've developed a reputation in hula.

Bear with me here, as I try to explain this properly: one of the things hula dancers have to do is called the kahea before each verse of a song or chant. It's to signal the other dancers and your musicians (or drummers) what the next verse is, so everyone's on the same page. Typically, it consists of a few words of the next line in the song or chant.

The dance we're learning right now is this wonderful kahiko, "Halau Hanalei." It's set to a completely different rhythm than any dance we've learned so far (it's actually a hula pahu), and the move we have to do between verses is very much like patting your head, rubbing your stomach, and hopping on one foot at the same time. So the kahea has to be done while you're also doing this complicated new step to a completely new rhythm. And, oh yeah, each kahea for this one is an entire sentence long. It's the entire verse.*

For example:

"Halau Hanalei i ka nina a ka ua."

That's one line. Chanting it is easy. Not so bad to kahea, either.

"Ku mano ke po'o wai a ka liko."

Umm...

"Naha ka opi wai a Wai-aloha."

Holy. Moly. (Remember, the "w" is pronounced as a "v." That "wai a Wai-aloha" kills me. Especially since when you chant that line, there's a pause that makes sense, but in the kahea... no pause!)

"O ke kahi koe a hiki Wai-oli."

Quite a mouthful, no? Again, it's easy enough to learn to chant these words, but to spit them out clearly at the right time while trying to balance yourself for that complicated new step...well, hell. And we're supposed to be doing this in unison. Except, so far, I'm the only one who's trying it.

Last week in class, as our Kumu was going over the third verse, he talked more about the kahea and how to do it, and ended by saying something along the lines of, for those of you who like these challenges, get to it.

And a bunch of my classmates looked right at me. Some even said my name at that point. Oh. NO. I suddenly felt all this pressure to perform. I'd already been planning to try it that night, but was prepared to chicken out if I didn't feel I had the verses down. I felt like I was being issued a direct challenge. I didn't realize my hula brothers and sisters had such high expectations of me!

Part of that comes from another complicated dance we do -- only three of us even try to kahea, and I'm the only woman who does it. Often, I'm the only person in the room doing it. It's daunting, requires great focus and breath control, and I'm usually ready to keel over at the end. And I'm loud, so everyone knows it's me.**

Also, one of the women who sometimes teaches class once told us that Kumu likes it when you volunteer to try something first, so I always try to be among the first in the class to go solo on a new chant or song or poem. Takes a lot of pressure off, once you're done...

Luckily, I had the first two verses of "Halau Hanalei" down pat, but didn't even try the third, which he'd just taught us. If I had, it would have sounded like "Naha ka oh fuck...." and that's not really appropriate. Nor is it in the proper language.

I am consistently amazed at the positive feedback I get in hula. I've always figured I was a slightly above average dancer in most of the genres I've tried, but am constantly humbled by how hard I have to work to get it right in hula. And when I watch really good dancers, I am reminded how much I have to learn. Whenever I start thinking I'm the shit, that's when I screw up. It's a great lesson.

What's truly amazing is that people tell me I'm a good chanter. Do not get me wrong -- this is not faux humility here: I don't have a good singing voice, and chanting is a lot like singing, only different (isn't that helpful?? here's a great chanter, to give you some perspective), and standing up in front of dozens of people to chant solo is one of the scariest things I've ever done. I've had to do it several times in the past two and a half years. So when I get praise for that -- even from my Kumu -- and am seen as someone who's developing skills with the kahea and the lengthy (beautiful) poem we recently learned... well, I'm just stunned. Seriously.

But it's added this surprising extra pressure, which comes from me and me alone, because I can't let myself fail when others expect me to do well.

Not that that's a bad thing. I'm just saying...

*Having said that, I looooooove this dance. And the chant. It's fabulous.
**Then again, the point is to be heard, so to kahea quietly would be pointless. Here's one of those few instances where my volume comes in handy!!

Being Sarah Palin...

2008-10-31T20:27:00.001-07:00

(Still awaiting pics from a Halloween party I attended last weekend, when my hair had been professionally styled in the Palin way. It was awesome. My version today, in the pic at left, is a pale imitation of what my stylist achieved.)

I spent two days as Sarah: last Saturday, when I attended a very fun costume party, and today, at work.

No one batted an eye at my Starbucks today. Not the baristas who see me every day, nor any of the other customers. HELLO? Do you think this teased hair is NORMAL in San Francisco?? (Happily, the staffers at the Taint, who see me often, had a good laugh when I went to pick up lunch.)

A few people at the party didn't understand why I had a baby doll.

Someone today didn't understand why I had the gun.

When I arrived at work today, I was a little concerned that our security folks might stop me, because of the toy rifle. I needn't have worried; they buzzed me past the front desk without me even swiping my ID card.

When my hair was professionally styled*, a couple of ladies at the salon were oohing and aahing, as though they wanted a similar 'do. We couldn't bear to tell them it was, um, a joke. Kathy, my stylist (who's also a friend) went all out with the high hair.

Then, on my way home from the salon, I stopped at Target, where some people did a double take, as though they couldn't tell if that was my normal style or if I was prepping for a costume.

Mine was voted Scariest Costume (I even have a trophy!) at last weekend's party, where, shockingly, I was the only Sarah. (There were two of us at work today.) Several partygoers wanted pictures with me! I was a mini-celeb, in a twisted sort of way. (Kinda like the year I was androgynous Pat, from SNL, and practically got mobbed in the Castro.)

I love living in my little liberal bubble... I get frightened when I step outside of it.

Yeah, I know... it's the biggest Halloween cliche this year. But if you're a brunette with bangs, it's impossible to pass up such an easy costume!

You betcha.

*It's not like I made an appointment to have my hair done this way. I happened to have a cut/color appointment the same day as the party, and requested the Palin. Kathy did a spectacular job.

Yes, I'm home again...

2008-10-15T22:35:00.000-07:00

Yes, I'm still kinda sad about that.

Yes, I had a wonderful time.

Yes, I'll tell you more about it soon. I've just been going non-stop since I got home last week. Which is both good and bad.
Good, because I've been too busy to spend too much time feeling wistful. Bad, because I don't have enough time to sit and stare at my pics and soak up more of Hawaii.

*Sigh.

Out of Office Auto Reply

2008-09-29T18:13:00.000-07:00

Terry will be away from the office, away from email, and away from the mainland through October 7th.

If your message is urgent, too bad. There are mai tais waiting to be consumed.

Aloha!

Revisiting the adolescent Dork...

2008-09-25T22:59:00.000-07:00

I'm heading to the surprise sell-out of the summer concert season Saturday night: Cheap Trick! Heart! Journey! All on the same bill!

Oh my god, the 14-year old girl in me is so happy. I loved loved loved Heart in my youth. 70's Heart, not so much the 80's incarnation with the overly-sexed-up look and more hook-y songs (I know - that was largely because of record company pressure, yada yada yada). I soooo wanted to be Ann Wilson when I was a teenager... and was hot for most of the guys in the band (especially drummer Mike Derosier. I liked facial hair then*. Sue me). I just so admired these two female rock band leaders and the music they made.

I just realized it's been 30 years since I first saw them live, on the tour featured in this video. I keep saying it because it's true: the time, it flies. 30 years? Holy moly. And yet, I remember the show so well, and this video that used to play on shows like "Don Kirshner's Rock Concert" in the pre-MTV days. (Yes, young'uns... there was a time before MTV! We had to stay up really late on weekend nights and hope to catch a glimpse of our favorite bands in some shitty tour clip....).

Listening to this song still makes me smile (and if I could find video for "Love Alive" or "Kick It Out," I'd post them. Wait! Here's one! And the other! I'm dying. And staying up too late) And how can I still remember all the words to these songs when I don't remember half the things I did yesterday?

At that first show, in 1978, some stoned idiot made my whole night when he told me I looked like Ann. (I didn't. Not even a little.)

(I also love how Ann and Nancy have slammed the McCain - Palin crew for continuing to use "Barracuda" without permission. Also demonstrates that no one with the campaign is, you know, LISTENING TO THE LYRICS. Idiots.)

This is the best Cheap Trick song EVER:

Robin Zander: adorable! I still remember seeing them when I was 15, while they were on the rise. Good times.

And of course, Journey's responsible for this delightful tune about the city I have loved since I was a bored adolescent growing up in SoCal:

This should be a hilarious evening, especially since my friend Sherri, whom I've known since high school, is bringing her 16-year old daughter. And we'll no doubt embarrass her as we squeal and dance and sing along. At least I hope we do.

Isn't that the best part about getting older?

*I still think he's hot. Well, the 1970's version is. I've no idea how he looks today, and I prefer that!

Can't help but laugh...

2008-09-22T22:53:00.000-07:00

I came across this song on the radio tonight.

This was "our" song. We got married 18 years ago today, and this was the last song that played at our reception.

Funny, no? I don't hear this song in ages, and I hear it tonight.

And today also happens to be the start of National Singles Week. Hooray for that! I can't even imagine being married now.

Love the way the universe works. Also funny that for awhile there, I couldn't listen to this song. Tonight? I turned it up and sang along at full voice.

Oh I want the truth to be said!

(If you're not familiar with the tale, click here.)

See, here's the thing...

2008-09-04T23:00:00.001-07:00

I miss blogging. I do.

I'm trying to keep up with all your blogs, but sometimes, I only have time to get through my blogroll once a week.

And Twitter makes it soooo easy to "micro blog" (which really means, blogging for those with short attention spans).

If you're not already there, you should be. It's really entertaining... especially now that Fake Sarah Palin is there, along with Fake John McCain, and all the characters from "Mad Men."

What, you don't follow things written by fictional characters??

Anyway. I haven't abandoned this space... I just haven't had time for it lately. And Twitter is just so easy! (No, they're not paying me to say that.)

I leave you with this.

EDITED TO ADD: I'm now seeing on other websites that that turned-down proposal was staged. Still... pretty funny.

Not surprised at all...

2008-08-23T22:17:00.001-07:00

Stolen from Bunny!

Your result for The Calvin Or Hobbes Test...

Mostly Calvin

You are 70% Calvin and 30% Hobbes

Your inner Calvin often prevails, but, as in the image, you have a significant Hobbesian component. I'm going to try to stretch the visual metaphor here: you have a good head on your shoulders, but when you don't use it, your crazy body gets you in trouble? Does that work? Odds are you're impulsive and imaginative, but it's possible you've collected just enough wisdom to hold your most anti-social urges in check. Most of the time. It's a precarious balance, like a boy on one foot with a tiger head.

Take The Calvin Or Hobbes Test at HelloQuizzy

Awkwaaaaaard...!

2008-08-17T18:25:00.000-07:00

The scene: a drizzly evening, leaving a restaurant in SF with one of my hula sisters.

I hear someone call out my name from across the street.

I look over and see a woman and a young-ish man. Can't tell who they are, though the woman slightly resembles a co-worker, though the young-ish man isn't her (very hot) husband.

Hula sister and I cross the street, as her car is that direction anyway, and I'm trying to figure out who this is, as it's not my co-worker.

We make awkward small talk for a minute or two, while I try to figure out how I know this woman. Luckily, hula sister picks up on the fact that I don't know this woman's name, though when she says it while introducing herself to hula sister, it doesn't help me. Neither does the young-ish man's name, nor the fact that her daughter works nearby.

Who on earth was that?? And what is happening to my memory??

I know, I know...

2008-08-09T18:26:00.000-07:00

It's been two weeks since the big ho'ike, and I still haven't told you about it.

See, I don't have all the pictures back yet from my friends who were kind enough to play photographer that day.... and so far, in the shots my hula brothers and sisters have shared, I'm JUUUUST out of range.

We're all having trouble picking ourselves out of these pictures to begin with, because once we were properly adorned in our ferns for the kahiko (ancient) part of the program, we all looked alike. There were 120 of us, after all. So I've been looking for the people who were dancing around me as guideposts, as I was positioned near the tallest guys in the class. It's actually been hilarious.

So in this shot, below, you can see me! I swear! Look allllll the way to the right. Do you see someone's back, with the rest of her out of the shot? There I am! (Click to enlarge all pics)

Don't I look great?

And in this shot, as we were walking out to start the 'auana (modern) part of the program, I'm just to the right of the tallest guys. See me? There I am! You know, the woman who's obscured by everyone else.

You can see the flowers in my hair and part of my flabby arm as I tried to adjust my sleeve. Looking good!

Okay, so here's one where you can actually see me in my kahiko costume, as we were walking out in our lines to start the ho'ike: I'm allllll the way on the right. (The gorgeous man in blue? My amazing Kumu. The gorgeous African-American dancer? Is a TEENAGER. Stop having those thoughts about him.)

More to come, I promise.

Word...

2008-08-02T11:05:00.000-07:00

I could not agree more.

I am 44 years old, and I still feel the slings and arrows from middle school. *Shudders*

Wow...

2008-07-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

It was a hell of an amazing day, and after many months of preparation and anticipation, it was over in a flash.

Mother Nature kindly brought us sun (which can be a rarity in SF in July), and my friends brought great spirit and support.

I'm still processing it all, as I didn't expect our ho'ike to be quite as emotional as it was, but there will be more details (and pictures) soon.

(I have no idea what I'm laughing at here, but it was definitely a joyful day.)

Why hula?

2008-07-25T21:30:00.000-07:00

(Will I ever write about anything else? Yes. Not now.)

That's the question everyone asks me, when they find out I take a hula class. The answer is complicated.

I'm not Hawaiian, nor have I ever lived there, unlike most of my hula brothers and sisters who have strong ties to the islands. I got into this almost as a lark, because a friend suggested we take this class. She'd long wanted to take hula, as her daughter used to dance, and she'd gotten to know our Kumu through her connections to Polynesian dance, and work (confusing enough?).

Me? I just wanted to dance again, after a two-decade absence from any class. I took several jazz and modern classes in my youth, and quit a year into college, because my schedule got too full. I've always regretted that.

I had no idea what I was getting into. I was unexpectedly drenched with sweat after that very first hula class. I had no idea it was as hard as it is; like most people, I thought hula was just swaying hips and gently moving hands -- nor that I would come to love it as much as I do. The rituals, the spirituality, the language, the chanting...I love all of it.

I'll share with you what I wrote for the scrapbook we're giving to Kumu at our ho'ike (recital, but more) this weekend:

If anyone had told me two years ago that I would one day stand and chant solo before dozens of people, I’d have laughed. This is just one of the many surprises of my time in your beginning hula class.

For me, hula is a revelation. A challenge. A reward. It is beauty and warmth. It forces me to be in the moment. It has reawakened my creativity, brought new, wonderful friends into my life, and has strengthened my mind, body and soul.

Most of all, hula is a source of tremendous joy.

When my dear friend and her daughter had to drop the class, I almost did too, because, despite all of my bravado, I'm actually shy. I wasn't sure I wanted to do this without someone I knew at my side. I'm so glad I didn't let the 'fraidy cat in me win that one.

And I've stopped regretting that I stopped dancing in college, because if I'd kept at it, I probably wouldn't be having the experience I am now.

There are few reasons I would go out in public in really unflattering costumes wearing no makeup (almost), but that's exactly what I'll be doing on Saturday.

Hula is sacred to Hawaiians. Now, it is to me, too.

What, two posts in one day??

2008-07-19T15:31:00.001-07:00

Yes. I'm back already. I just discovered something surprising and touching.

There was a comment on my last post that I thought came from a spambot, as it referenced a post from ages ago, but when I finally got a clue that it wasn't, I clicked on the link, and found this!

Masgblog, you are too kind.

The best part of blogging is finding people all around the world with whom you connect. It's pretty amazing, actually.

A shrubbery!!!

2008-07-19T13:30:00.000-07:00

The hula ho'ike's only a week away now, and just when I think I've procured all the supplies I need for the big event, something else comes up.

Now, we've each been assigned to bring a lehua branch to the event, so we can create a border between us and the audience (we'll all be on the grass - there's no stage).

Umm. I'm no horticulturist, so even though we were told there's lehua all over the city, I didn't know the difference between it and the good ol' bottle brush, which it resembles. Or where I can find it. Or how I'll possibly have time later in the week to go get some, as my boss is on vacation and I'm running the department solo, which inevitably means some long days are ahead of me.

Lehua:

Bottle brush:

See? Similar, and yet, distinctly different when you get up close. The leaves are entirely different.

One of my hula sisters who's a landscape architect told me of a spot where she'd seen some lehua and hooray, it's on my commute! So all this week, I've been studying the trees as I drive to and from work, to see if I can tell whether they're lehua or bottle brush. And whether there's one I can surreptitiously approach next week and snip off a piece. There are several in front of some fancy homes, but I don't think the homeowners would appreciate my cutting off a bit...

Guess what? It all looks the same from the car. I also had several near-crashes on my drives, trying to find some. So last evening, on the way home, I stopped and got out of the car to look. The first spot? Terrible. Sad, old blooms, hardly any color. Not suitable.

But I then found some a short distance away, completely by accident, and in a spot where I could probably snip some without anyone noticing.

Felt like the search for the Holy Grail...

Yikes...

2008-07-09T20:10:00.000-07:00

I didn't realize it had been so long since I last posted! Time flies when you're... uh... really busy.

Preparations continue for our hula ho'ike (our first recital). Here's a glimpse of the dress I'll be wearing during the auana (modern hula) portion of the program:

Fabric's kinda cheesy, eh? I like that. There are 120 people in my class, so finding enough fabric with the same pattern to clothe us all was a big challenge, apparently. And I'm pleased I got my first color choice, even though the dress itself isn't particularly flattering. It's really well-made though -- several seamstresses worked their fingers off for us. Now I just have to figure out how to dance in it without tripping on it, as it's very... very... long.

And then there's the kahiko (ancient hula) costume that I have to make. Well, that I've been making with the kind and patient help of my dear friends Kimmy and Rebecca. As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, we have to print a design on our skirts, following some detailed guidelines. I am terrible -- no, really, I'm not exaggerating -- at crafting, so Kimmy* the fine graphic artist made me a fabulous and perfect stencil to use for my wave pattern. She's so good she designed this long-distance, after a brief email conversation. Here's how the pattern looks (with some seashell action above):

No, I couldn't color between the lines when I was a kid, either (and I remember getting in trouble for that in school. wtf??). But I like the imperfections here -- they're very me.

Here's (more) proof that I was actually involved in the printing on the fabric:

Apparently, I thought I was doing surgery. To me, crafting is as difficult as surgery!

The lovely Rebecca has not only opened her home to me to make this outfit, she's coached me through it from the beginning, helped me paint the fabric (SIX YARDS!), and is sewing the whole thing. It's been very time consuming, and has required much patience.
It's safe to say I couldn't do this without my friends, and I'll feel them with me as I dance in this outfit. (Pics of the finished product coming soon.)

On top of this, I have a big fat deadline at work next week, so it's been a very busy month of juggling. Of course, that hasn't stopped me from overbooking my social calendar too, so you can imagine how messy my apartment is.

And right now, I'm just too tired to care.

*normal people call her Kim

Just a couple of notes from a Dorky trip...

2008-06-15T21:45:00.000-07:00

Pay attention to your mail. You might just end up with some kind of coupon you can use to park FOR FREE at the airport.
I just love Virgin America airlines. Especially since they offered me an upgrade to first class for $35 on my outbound trip. Just heavenly, especially for those passengers who may have been a little queasy and hungover as they got on the plane. Not that I know anyone like that...
Then again, it's so very, very hard to fly in coach again after you've been in first class. Sigh...
I am absolutely terrible at Guitar Hero. I could barely get through the first couple of verses of "Slow Ride," a song I know very well, before the game cut me off.
Also? Terrible at Wii bowling. And tennis. Jeez...
Do I get a pass because it was my first time on the Wii?
There's no point in packing sunscreen if you're not going to use it on the day you spend strolling along San Diego's Embarcadero in the sun.
There are few things that make you feel older than watching young people you've known all their lives get their high school diplomas. Except maybe sucking at Guitar Hero.
So happy it was coolish (by SD standards) all weekend. My sweating was minimal.
However, my sunburn -- which is almost in a perfect square on my chest -- is maximum.
Also, my nose. Just call me Rudolph.

44?

2008-06-11T00:30:00.001-07:00

Holy moly. How did this happen?

I guess I'm officially in my mid-(gulp) 40's now...!

And to make me feel even more decrepit, I'm heading south tomorrow to see a couple of young friends graduate from high school...one of whom I've known all her life. I think that's a first.

The time? It really does fly.

Hey, remember when I used to blog?

2008-06-04T23:37:00.003-07:00

Me too.

Back soon. Really.

Still alive!

2008-05-20T23:25:00.001-07:00

And I swore my next post was going to be about my trip to New York... which was more than TWO MONTHS AGO. Jeebus. I can't believe it's been that long, and at the same time, it feels like it's been ages since I was there.

I swear, there's more to come on that later. (Makes it sound like I have great tales to tell. I don't really, but it was a faaaabulous trip.)

I've just been very busy, and have now been presented with a most daunting project. It's hula-related, of course.

Our big ho'ike (recital) is a little more than two months away. This is a big deal in our halau, as it marks the end of our beginners' class; it's a graduation of sorts. It's also the first time we'll be dancing for people aside from ourselves. That alone is cause for some angst.

And for the ho'ike, we have to make the costume we'll wear for the kahiko (ancient hula) portion of the program. Not only are we to actually sew the thing, but we are also to print some sort of design on the pa'u (skirt). It has to be something deeply meaningful to us, must be Hawaiian in origin, and come from nature (flora, fauna, etc).

It's not the concept of the design that worries me; I already know what I want to do. It's the actual execution of the design and the sewing that's freaking me out. I don't sew. Well, I can sew buttons on to clothing and fix ripped seams and such, but sewing a garment from scratch? Hahahahahaha. And creating some kind of design myself? HAHAHAHA.

What I'm saying is that I'm craft-impaired. And the point of this is to pour our own mana (spirit) into the costume, so that it really represents us, and is a part of us. But I'll need so much help doing that, it's pathetic.

So if you're wondering where I am in the long silent periods here, visualize me searching the web for large rubber stamps that will help me with my design, and imposing on my friends who have real talent to accomplish this task, which, for me, will be harder than any dance or chant we've learned.

Oh, how I heart him so...

2008-05-06T21:21:00.001-07:00

Squishy...

2008-04-27T16:27:00.000-07:00

I got to see one of my mentors the other day. He was my first teacher in my college major, and the first to show me that I could make a career out of... what I do for a living. It's a competitive field, and, because of that, many of my classmates ended up doing other things.

(Do you enjoy the vagueness? It makes for some awkward writing, that's for sure!)

Anyway. When I first met him, he was pretty intimidating (though I'd later learn he's really just a big softie underneath it all). He had high standards, and expected a lot of us. It was a huge deal when he chose me to manage the student staff of... the thing we all worked on (awk!). This was a paying job, and being selected for it was a big vote of confidence. I added a year to my time in college because of the opportunity.

Mind you, this was more than two decades ago, though we've stayed in touch all this time. He's been a really important part of my life.

So it was truly wonderful to hear him say that when people ask him about who his students were, I'm second on his list of the "most accomplished." (Number One is high-profile, and is well-known in certain circles.) Because I just realized this is the closest thing to paternal approval I'll ever get.

I may have lost my father when I was young, but I've been really fortunate to have some very special teachers/mentors in my life, and I'm really lucky that some of them are still in my corner.

I confess...

2008-04-21T23:42:00.001-07:00

This one's for Joey, Melissa, Phil and Angela, who, sadly, had to leave before the DJ spun this fine tune...

AWESOME!

And I thought I knew my 70's disco. I'd never heard this song before last Saturday night. I've been missing out.

(I love that this is so low-rent, the person who put this on YouTube had to use "Saturday Night Fever" for video...!)

Low-energy cardboard performance art...

2008-04-19T00:55:00.000-07:00

There are no words. This may be the funniest thing I've ever seen on YouTube.

Aside from random videos of people falling down, that is.

(Why is the comment option disappearing tonight?? WHY??)

Why I love this movie...

2008-04-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

I cried at the end when I saw it in the theatre when it first came out, much to the confusion of the friends I was with, who were not nearly as moved as I was...

And tonight, I caught it on cable, and again welled up, more than once...which proves it's really the script that gets me, and wasn't my hormones wreaking havoc the first time around:

"Sometimes, when we lose ourselves in fear and despair, in routine and constancy, in hopelessness and tragedy... there are Bavarian sugar cookies.

And fortunately, when there aren't any cookies, we can still find reassurance in a familiar hand on our skin...

Or a kind and loving gesture.

Or a subtle encouragement.

Or a loving embrace.

Or an offer of comfort.

Not to mention hospital gurneys...

And nose plugs...

And uneaten danish...

And soft-spoken secrets.

And Fender Stratocasters.

And maybe, the occasional piece of fiction.

And we must remember that all these things, the nuances, the anomalies, the subtleties which we assume only accessorize our days are, in fact, here for a much nobler cause.

They are here to save our lives."

Amen.

(yes, it makes more sense with the visuals, and in context, but the point is clear. in fact, i just got all teary-eyed again just reading this.)

Vote early and often!

2008-04-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

Click here now! You know you want to...

Don't even recognize my own life anymore...

2008-04-08T22:52:00.001-07:00

I know I keep saying I'll write about my trip to New York any minute now -- jeeez, has it really been more than THREE WEEKS since I returned?? -- but my life has been non-stop since I got back. I've hardly been home since I got home. I've had some sort of commitment -- and often more than one commitment -- each day.

Except for this past Sunday, when I had two commitments but had to cancel both due to extreme exhaustion and sinus cloggage. Thanks a lot, fucking allergy season.

Now, most of those commitments have been very fun, but they haven't given me any time to blog, sit on my ass, clean house, watch TV... all things I would normally have time to do.

So that's bad, right? Except... I don't really miss the TV much (surprisingly!). And I definitely don't miss the cleaning. I do miss the sitting on my ass, but it's more fun to go play. And I do miss the blogging, and keeping up with all of your blogs. A lot.

Things will slow down soon, and our regularly scheduled program shall return. With pictures!

Ow ow OW OW fucking OW!!

2008-03-31T22:41:00.000-07:00

No, I didn't hurt myself in New York (aside from a couple of hangovers. And the sore feet from all the walking). Details on my trip in my next post. Promise.

What I'm talking about is the latest challenge in hula: hula noho, or "seated" hula.

Except we're not really sitting.

We are on the ground, with our legs under us, like these kids are:

(Luckily, we are not wielding sticks in the dance we're learning. Otherwise, I might have to beat myself about the head to assuage my pain.)

Looks easy, for these kids, no? It probably WAS easy when I was a kid. And it might be an easy position for you to maintain. But for those of us over 40 who are not in the best shape, it's a challenge just to get into that position. (I am somewhat comforted that even the younger folk in class are complaining, as are those who are in good shape.)
I thought it was going to be murder on my knees; it's my feet that are suffering. They cramp up at first, because we have to lay the TOPS of our feet flat on the ground. While putting all our weight on our shins and feet. And sitting up straight. Try that, right now. Ow, right? If not, I hate you. Srsly.

So, once we're in position, we have to, of course, dance, moving our hips -- sometimes rapidly -- and everything. AND CHANT. AND HARMONIZE. And somehow, find the time to breathe in between all the dancing and chanting and suffering. (I tried to find a video on YouTube of someone else doing this, just so you could get a taste, but no luck.)

Oh, and there's even a proper way to get down on the ground, and a correct way to get up again. You know, gracefully, without a face plant. While the lower half of your legs are numb.

This is easily the hardest thing I've ever had to do in any dance class, bar none. And if I ever get it right, I'm going to be so proud of myself. Until then, that whimpering you hear every Monday and Thursday night is me...

Spent...

2008-03-16T14:54:00.000-07:00

...in every sense of the word.

If my vacation hadn't come to an end today, I might have keeled over from sheer exhaustion. (Actually, I'm feeling like I'm about to do that anyway....)

A grand time, as always. More to come when I have time. Meanwhile, here's a lovely pic of the skyline as seen from Brooklyn.

Oh, and I DID take the warmer coat. Which was the right move. Except for yesterday, when it was in the 50s and I started sweating.

Also? Very fun being in NYC amid a big political sex scandal!

Now wondering when I can go back...

Oh, and if you've emailed me over the past week and haven't heard back? You will. As promised, I didn't touch a computer while I was away, so I'll be getting to emails soon.

"But what will you DO there?"

2008-03-08T21:08:00.000-08:00

Two different people asked me that yesterday... and not in a "What are your plans?" way.

Because, you know, it's so hard to find things to do in New York City.

A few colleagues were baffled that I'd go someplace by myself if not to visit family. New York is a fabulous place to go solo, because there's so much to do. It's so easy to get lost in the whirlwind of it all. So much to see, to soak up.

"It's going to be cold, you know..."

I know. I KNOW. Am I a moron? I know it's still winter! I do cold better than hot. I'm not worried. It won't stop me from doing all that I want to do. (I'm just debating which coat to take: the cuter one or the warmer one. It's a battle of style over practicality.)

I'll get to see some shows, some friends new and old, and hopefully escape from the major stresses of the past few months. Luckily, I'm so exhausted I'll have no trouble hitting the hay at a decent hour, East Coast time, tomorrow night.

And I'm not going anywhere near a computer this week if I can help it, so it will be even quieter than usual around these parts.

See you soon!

This one's for the Pirate...

2008-03-06T22:28:00.001-08:00

Eyebrow and everything!

It's only going to get worse, my friend, as I've just learned they're doing THREE SHOWS here in September!

Eeeeee!

I'm dizzy from all this spinning...

2008-03-01T22:55:00.000-08:00

Wow. So appropriate that I happened to pop this CD into my car stereo today.

No, I can't elaborate.

(and omigod. look at him. and listen to that voice. *sigh)

Que sera sera-ku...

2008-02-29T14:05:00.000-08:00

no point, worrying
about what you can't control
doris day was right

Coming soon, to a blog near you...

2008-02-26T21:05:00.001-08:00

More ridiculous photos like this one!

I don't know why we can't seem to get a good photo of ourselves at this Oscar night party, but at least you can see the fine work of the MAC makeup artist we saw. Look how blue Miss Cheese's eyes are!

Fun was had. Cocktails were imbibed. Dancing was done. Feet were sore, despite my fabulous AND comfy new dress shoes. New friends were made, who we'll never see again.

Good times!

Why I could never be a parent...

2008-02-22T20:12:00.000-08:00

I nearly peed my pants looking at these pics.

(I particularly enjoyed the feeding and shopping tips.)

(Thanks, Dooce...)

Hey, you know what's a really fun thing to do on a Friday night? Sorting through your closet in order to get rid of stuff you no longer need. No, this is nothing like last year's huge purge (go back to last February's archives, if you want to see a really amazing tranformation), since I don't have a ton of old dishes and cups and assorted old shit dating back many years anymore.

This time, it's mostly clothing. And shoes. Remember how I said I've been shopping like a maniac over the past year? Yeah. Well. Even my large closets are getting cramped, so it's time to share the wealth with those who are less fortunate. And attempt to get my closets looking like they did last year at this time...

Do I know how to party on a Friday, or do I know how to par-tay?

Speaking of parties... it's time again for Miss Cheese and I to get gussied up for that big fancy Oscar party we so enjoy! Stay tuned for pics next week... (again, go back to last February for last year's summary).

EDITED TO ADD: Holy moly. Why didn't I clear the closet sooner? Why do I hang on to clothes I haven't worn in eons?? And at some point in the early 2000s, I bought four pairs of sandals that look nearly identical. Because, you know, here in chilly SF, I wear sandals often enough to need the same ones over and over and over again. Jeebus. (No pics this time -- I was moving so efficiently I didn't want to stop.)

Sinus-ku...

2008-02-20T23:30:00.000-08:00

to breathe through my nose
would be oh so glorious
no more sinus spray!

Bleah...

2008-02-17T13:49:00.000-08:00

Of course. A three-day weekend, with time to do some things I've wanted to do for ages... and I'm sick. I suppose I should be grateful that my immune system held up through all the chaos at work -- I simply haven't had time to be sick -- but I'm annoyed that now that things have calmed down some and I have time for me again, it decides to let in the latest sinus/cold thing.

So I've spent this weekend watching loads of television, and I've come to a surprising conclusion about myself: I'm a prude. I don't understand how anyone can shove their tongues down the throat of someone they've just met.

Mind you, I'm not judging. I know I'm an oddball (for a million reasons, really) because I've never had a one-night stand. I applaud those of you who can just go out and get yours when you want to. What I'm saying is, I don't understand how you do that. I can't. Even kissing, to me, is pretty intimate...and I just can't go there with someone I don't know and trust.

And yeah, I realize what I'm seeing on TV are people who are trying to get as much TV time as possible. They've learned how to play that attention-getting game well. But even with that as my goal, I can't imagine walking up to some guy -- celebrity or no -- that I've just met and just start tonguing him. (And really, how does anyone kiss Flavor Flav? Is the draw of money and/or fame really enough to go there?? Bleeeaaagh.)

So I guess that makes me a prude.

Quirk-o-Rama...

2008-02-14T00:05:00.000-08:00

It's not just Valentine's Day... it's International Quirkyalone Day! And yes, I'm celebrating.

What the hell's a Quirkyalone? According to the site, it's "A person who enjoys being single (but is not opposed to being in a relationship) but generally prefers to be alone rather than dating for the sake of being in a couple. Quirkyalone is not anti-love. It is pro-love. It is not anti-dating. It is anti-compulsory dating. We tend to be romantics. We prefer to be single rather than settle. In fact, the core of quirkyalone is the inability to settle. We spend a signficant chunk of our lives single because we hold relationships to a high standard."

I didn't even realize I was a Quirkyalone until a few years ago, when Sass wrote about QAs and linked to this quiz.

Go take it now. How'd you do?

I got a score of 103. Which means I'm "Very Quirkyalone: Relatives may give you quizzical looks, and so may friends, but you know in your heart of hearts that you are following your inner voice. Though you may not be romancing a single person, you are romancing the world. Celebrate your freedom on National Quirkyalone Day, February 14th!?"

So yes, I'm celebrating. And yes, I remain a hopeful romantic. There may not be flowers or candy coming my way today, but I'm fine with that. And I'll go to hula class and sweat my ass off and try not to trip over my own feet and be happy spending my VDay evening doing something I love, with people I adore.

Hope you have reason to celebrate today, too.

Self-professed profound...

2008-02-11T22:46:00.000-08:00

The thing that gets lost in all those tabloid headlines...

...is the fact that the woman can SING. Love this song, love this album. It's one of my favorites of 2007. I hope she's able to get her shit together. It would be a terrible waste of talent if she doesn't.

EDITED TO ADD: If the only song of hers you've heard is "Rehab," please click above and listen to this gem.

(Plus, you have to love a woman who has the line "what kind of fuckery is this?" in another tune.)

Lucky in love?

2008-02-09T23:06:00.001-08:00

I just had an epiphany.

A friend of mine has fallen in love for the first time, which is really wonderful. The problem is, this person is already in a legally-binding relationship, so it's also awful. It's impossible to move in any direction without someone -- or more than one person -- getting hurt, but it would also be awful to live without ever having that feeling of real, true, passionate love. So I'm thrilled and sad for my friend, all at the same time.

And then I realized how lucky I've been to have had that kind of love in my life. I know it exists. I know what it feels like. Even though it all eventually went to shit and caused me more pain than I could ever have imagined. I mean, I'll never know how he truly felt about me -- it seemed in those early years that he was as in love as I was -- but that's not the point.

The point is that I've been privileged to have felt that overwhelming, all-consuming love for someone else. It was beautiful, once. And I know that even if I never feel it again (a very sad thought, actually), I won't settle for less than that.

More evidence that I am, indeed, a freak...

2008-02-03T22:47:00.000-08:00

I didn't watch the Super Bowl. Not even a minute of it. And I don't care about what a great, shocking fourth quarter blah blah blah.

Now, if I hadn't had plans to go out (early dinner and a play), I probably would have watched parts of the game. Well, I would really have been watching the commericals, since those generate more watercooler chat anyway. I might have gone to one of the parties I was invited to. But I just don't give a shit about this game. I'm kind of baffled about why so many people DO care, even when their favorite team's not involved.

I used to enjoy professional sports in my youth, largely because it was practically a requirement in the house in which I grew up. My mom and brother are huge sports fans, so in order to attempt to "fit in" (I have always been the oddball in my family), I watched too. And even cared, somewhat.

That was a long time ago. As much as I'd like to postulate about the glory days of sports, my lack of interest now isn't really about that. My interest waned once I moved out on my own and could indulge all of my own interests freely and without judgment.*

And with control of the TV remote.

(I DID , however, catch a little of the Puppy Bowl. Awesome!)

*i do enjoy GOING to sporting events, and the whole social -- and sociological -- aspect of that. sitting at home watching on tv? zzzzzzz.)

Damned karma....

2008-01-31T22:33:00.000-08:00

After having many laughs over this today...

(click on the image to make the video work)

...the heel of my shoe got caught on a weird patch of paving in the garage at work and I fell. Scraped the hell out of my right hand, jammed my middle finger (heh) (doesn't appear to be broken but hurts like a mofo), skinned one knee, smacked the hell out of the other one and may have wrecked a pair of pants.

What IS IT with me and falling?? I've fallen more in the past three or four years than I have in the past two decades. I shudder to think what I'll be like when I get older. Assuming I don't die in a fall first.

I almost skipped hula tonight, because I hurt in many places, but we got worked so hard in class I couldn't even think about my injuries. Just had to focus on getting enough oxygen to keep from keeling over dead. But it's a good thing I went, because I suspect becoming immobile would only have made me hurt more tomorrow.

I guess I should stop finding that little clip so amusing.

Should.

My vacation plans, so far...

2008-01-29T23:02:00.000-08:00

(actually, not that new anymore. I almost saw it on my last trip, last June!)
(That's Nathan Lane, in the Mamet play "November." Couldn't find an image that was self-explanatory for this one.)

I know. The reviews were kind of meh. I don't care.

Sadly, no Colbert tickets are available... but I have a friend with a spare Daily Show ticket!!

I'm dying.

IS IT MARCH 9TH YET??

Sometimes, I crack myself up-ku...

2008-01-27T10:01:00.000-08:00

i've opened the door

the next step is up to you

will you make the move?

Just a few random notes...

2008-01-23T20:46:00.001-08:00

I have been chosen as the Customer of the Week at my Starbucks. I have never been so proud. Hey, it means free drinks all week! That's nothing to sneeze at.

I am running out of warm clothes to wear to work. We haven't had a cold* snap this long in awhile.

I went shopping with a friend last weekend at an outlet center and at one store, we managed to buy 8 pairs of shoes (between the two of us) for $100. You read that right. Best. Bargain. Ever.

Not only does my kitchen have a not-so-fresh aroma, thanks to the latest leaky ceiling episode, but the lobby of the building smells like rank feet, because the leak ended up going all the way through my apartment and down to that level.

That is all. For now. Must eat dinner.

*i know... I KNOW... you're in really cold weather. we're having daytime highs in the 40s, which is not typical here. it's california cold, that's all i'm saying!!

Hey!

2008-01-21T22:58:00.000-08:00

Where'd everybody go?

Is it post-Christmas blahs, or is everyone too frozen to blog these days?

(I am, of course, going to ignore the fact that I haven't posted anything in a week. At least I have that Twitter thing going on over there ---> now.)

Lots to talk about, but so little time... more soon.

So unfair...

2008-01-13T11:22:00.000-08:00

Why is it that it takes so long to build up to a certain fitness level, but almost no time at all to lose a ton of ground? Between the holiday busy-ness and getting sick (and no hula for two weeks), I am having a hell of a time. I went for a walk yesterday -- the first in a couple of weeks -- and it felt like I was slogging through mud. And I was, again, winded sooner than I should have been, just like in hula. Cripes. I'm not saying I was in marathon shape or anything... but I was doing a lot better than I am now.

But everything will be okay. Because you know what? You know what it means when this map* appears on my desk?

Yes, I've booked another trip to New York. I'd wanted to go this month or next, but there's way too much on my plate at work and at home to manage it before March. So that's when I'm going.

FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK. Oh my god. And I've finally made good on my attempt to stay someplace outside of Midtown. I'll be in Chelsea this time, right on the edge of the Village. And so close to Soho. And the purses and pashminas of Canal Street. And so many wonderful gluten-free dining (and bakery!) options.

I'm squeeing! I'll be squeeing even more once this upcoming week is over. I see a light at the end of the tunnel...

*best map ever, by the way. laminated, so it can't tear or blow around in the wind. smallish but detailed, folds like an accordion, fits easily in a purse. brilliant!

Snortalicious!

2008-01-11T23:22:00.000-08:00

Quote of the day, spoken in the middle of a deep conversation about life, over dinner:

"This smells and tastes a little like vomit."

I'm still laughing, Ang!

Maybe you had to be there (or HTBT, as another friend likes to say).

I needed that laugh.

Maybe things are looking up...

2008-01-07T22:44:00.000-08:00

I talked my way out of a parking ticket this morning.

See, when I stop at my Starbucks on the way to work each day, I technically park illegally, in that I never put money in the parking meter. I'm only there a couple of minutes - usually - and I've never seen a parking control officer* on that street at that time of day.

Until today. When everything inside Starbucks was moving at a glacial pace -- the customers, the workers, my brain. After finally getting my delicious Venti Soy No Water Chai (hi, fussy much? at least I don't order them extra hot...), I walk out to find a PCO behind my car, entering my license plate number into her handheld Satanic ticket-issuing computer device.

I approached her with a smile and asked, "Would it do me any good if I left right now?" Because really, I deserved the ticket.

She stopped, looked at me, hesitated, and said, "You know what? I'll void the ticket because you're being civil." She then looked at a car behind mine, whose driver apparently wasn't, and said she'd have to pretend to give me a ticket while he was still there, because she didn't void his.

So all I got was an empty envelope, and some reinforcement that playing nice has its rewards.

And then I got my ass kicked in hula tonight. Not only have we not had class for a couple of weeks, I've barely moved during that time, because I've been so sick. And I'm still not completely free of chestal crud. HOLY CRAP, tonight was tough. I got winded much sooner than I should have, and my thighs, hips, and calves are screaming at me.

But it was so good to be back. I've missed it so much. I'm tired of feeling like a lifeless, atrophying lump. I've missed my Kumu and my hula brothers and sisters.

And tomorrow, after work, I might actually have the time and energy to do exciting things like shop for a calendar! Go grocery shopping! Put my laundry away! Pick up some of this crap that's all over my apartment!

I really need a wife, you know. I can't manage my own life anymore, especially when I get sick.

*i won't call them meter maids... especially since mine was so nice.

WTF???

2008-01-05T19:29:00.000-08:00

A spam text messages?

About a fucking chat line?

At fucking 1 a.m. on a Thursday???

Fuuuuuck!

Note to self: always silence the text message alert when you go to bed. (The cell phone must remain on, for work emergencies.)

My calendar trauma continues. I went to Target today, and thought I'd pick up a new wall calendar there and THEY WERE OUT. There wasn't one calendar in the store, though the sign pointing me to calendars was still there. Yeah, THANKS for that.

Again, WTF?? It's still the first week in January! I usually get my calendars (or the always-helpful Angela gets them for me) in JANUARY!!

None of this is helping with the cranky. I'm just saying...

Cranky New Year!

2008-01-01T21:57:00.000-08:00

Still sick.

Had to go in to work today, to replace someone else who is sick. It's the new game that's taking the workplace by storm: Who's Sickest?! And since I'm a manager, I lose. It's part of the deal; when no one else can work, I have to. (Well, I suppose I could have left my other staffers shorthanded and in a lurch, but that used to drive me fucking crazy in my old job, when managers wouldn't step in when needed...holiday or not...)

And because I hadn't planned on working today -- not to mention, doing someone else's job -- nothing was arranged ahead of time, so it was triply challenging, feeling shitty and facing a holiday.(This would make more sense if I told you what I did for a living, but no! Not going there! Suffice it to say, advance planning is necessary.)

I'm now concerned that my own crud will hang on longer, because I didn't get to rest today, and my prospects for rest this week are spotty. I'm much better than I was over the weekend, but still don't feel good. And of course, because of the loud drunken revelers in my 'hood, I didn't sleep well last night. It wasn't even their reveling that was so noisy; it was their returning home. Or going from party to party. Or whatever it was that prompted the shouting and stumbling at all hours.

And then, tonight, I finally get around to ordering a 2008 calendar refill for my organizer, and the fucking company is fucking out of stock!! Yes, yes, I know it's New Year's Day. I know I should have ordered sooner. I've been swamped. I've ordered this late before. How can you be OUT OF STOCK??

We are not off to a good start, 2008 and I.

As a dog...

2007-12-29T11:06:00.000-08:00

Sick, that is. (And what's the origin of that phrase, anyway? Are dogs really sick??)

Yes, I've finally fallen victim to the respiratory/flu crud that's been sweeping through my workplace. I'm amazed it took this long; usually, I'm like a magnet for whatever hideous germs are floating around, and get sick if someone looks at me the wrong way. So, yay for my immune system, for holding up as long as it did.

But this thing is a doozy. I spent about 17 hours in bed yesterday, and could have slept more, I'm certain... but it seemed like I needed to get up and make sure the world was still okay. I don't expect to leave my apartment at all this weekend.

Christmas, by the way, was lovely. Started with a lavender/sugar scrub at a very nice spa, where one of the gayest gay men I've ever met (and that's saying a lot) exclaimed, "I LOVE to scrub!!" when he was leading me into the treatment room. He must, because he's really good at it. Then I had a lovely massage. The whole experience left me feeling like I was in a comfy cocoon.

And then I had the most amazing meal ever, prepared by some more lovely gay men in their amazingly lovely home. Great food, great wine, great company... what more can a girl ask for on a holiday?

Full...

2007-12-24T18:56:00.000-08:00

Yeah, I was feeling a little grinchy today. I haven't actually worked on Christmas Eve since...uh... I think... the 90's. So that felt weird. And knowing that my holiday plans were in flux had me kinda cranky - even more than usual for a Monday. But I put on my cute Santa hat (with black trim, not white! adorable!*), red blouse, and ornament-like jewelry anyway, figuring I should at least try to fake it. There are far worse troubles in the world than mine.

Then the crew at my Starbucks comped my ginormous Chai.

And I was nearly flooded with gifts at work.

And everyone seemed to get a kick out of my festive appearance.

And some friends who were concerned about my Holiday Orphandom reached out.

And my heart felt even more full than usual.

I was already planning to write here about how lucky I am, but today just confirmed it again. I have the most amazing people in my life, and I truly feel blessed (even though I am not the least bit religious). Part of the reason for my Orphandom this year is the timing of this holiday. I mean, c'mon... Christmas on a TUESDAY? So wrong. So inconvenient when you work in a 24/7 business and your immediate boss is taking the week off. This is why I'm in town, and not in San Diego or Houston or even New York.

And tonight, on a night I usually spend having a lovely dinner of my own making, I had take-out from one of my favorite neighborgood eateries. I've opened a tasty bottle of wine, and am making myself some (gluten-free, natch) stuffing to enjoy this week. I haven't had any in two years, so it's time**. And then I'll make my favorite holiday treat... Zippity Polka Dot Squares. (You normal folks know them as Seven-Layer Bars, but whatever. And there aren't seven layers in mine)***.

And then I'll alternate between watching "It's a Wonderful Life" and "A Christmas Story" on TV, working hard to catch my favorite parts of each film. And there will be no tears, except at the end of "...Life," which makes me cry every damned time.

Because no woman is a failure who has friends. I really am the richest girl in town.

Merry Christmas, everyone.****

*if i weren't so sweaty from the cooking, i'd take a picture...but really, the cute has melted off.
**it's been so long since i've made stuffing -- usually, mom handles this, and i do our christmas eve lasagna dinner -- that i've gotten my portions out of whack. i've made enough stuffing to feed a small army. i'd better make room in my freezer...
***yes, gluten-free. this time, i'm going to grind up some nuts for the crust. yum!
****mine will include a massage and spa experience, then dinner at the home of some major gourmets and gourmands. who have included some gluten-free side dishes in their menu. again, with the luck.

New traditions...

2007-12-23T22:49:00.000-08:00

I suppose I should dub this the Christmas of New Traditions for me, since it's the first time in... uh... maybe ever... that I haven't spent the holiday with anyone in my family. However, some of my new traditions may be crashing and burning, as my main partner in Christmas Orphandom (yes, I've just decided that's a word) is very sick, and might have to bow out of some -- or even all -- of our plans. So I could very well be more orphaned than I'd expected. Particularly on Christmas Eve, which was a bigger deal in my family for many years than Christmas Day itself.

Oh well. I'll live, though I'm sure there will be a few moments of sadness (which I'll try to cure with endless viewings of A Christmas Story). (Thank you, TNT!) But I can also bask in the glow of finally having seen the Mark Morris Dance Group's The Hard Nut. I didn't realize until recently that this was actually set to the music from The Nutcracker. Omigod, is it brilliant. Not only is it really funny, there's some spectacular dancing (and staging) in it.

I'm not sure I'll be able to take a Nutcracker seriously again after this, but I think I'll be seeing it again in the years to come. Orphaned or not.

It's the most wonderf...

2007-12-22T19:30:00.000-08:00

...oh shut up.

Nah, not really grinchy... just kinda cranky. I should be cleaning house right now, but I'm not. Instead, I'm writing this really disjointed, nonsensical post.

I have this terrible feeling I'm about to get sick. I might just be mildly hungover and over-tired after my company's Christmas party last night, but I feel awfully sinus-y and bleh. And nearly everyone around me has been sick during the past month. I'm overdue...

Men are funny when they're trying to surreptitiously check out your cleavage. Note to you fellas: we can see you looking at the chi-chi's. The sly thing? Not sly in the least.

I have no hula classes until the 3rd of January, and that sucks. We learned a couple of Christmas hulas this week, and they're just ridiculous. Very cheesy and funny. Kumu jokingly suggested we break them out as "gifts" for people we don't have time to shop for. Ha. Anyone want a hula?? Or a chant?

Why isn't "It's A Wonderful Life" on TV tonight? It's three days before Christmas, people! Why don't I have it on DVD, either?

My apartment is freezing. It's pretty chilly outside, too. Okay, I know you folks who have real weather will laugh at that statement, but it's cold for California. Even for my fine city by the bay. I had a turtleneck on under my heaviest coat today, and I was STILL cold. That's rare.

My eye itches.

I don't know what to have for dinner. Nothing sounds appetizing. That's another sign that I'm not well.

Maybe I should just go to bed now.

So, like... *

2007-12-18T23:31:00.000-08:00

Yes, I'm still alive. That head injury from a few weeks back didn't suddenly kill me.

Just busy. Realized over the weekend while I was lazing around after a grueling hula workshop (seriously, he expected us to learn an entire dance in a few hours?? ha!) that Christmas is just days away, and that I actually DO have gifts I want to buy for people. Good thing I'm taking a couple of days off at the end of the week, because otherwise, there'd be no shopping time.

Hey, are you on my Christmas card list? Chances are you're not going to get a card this year. Again. I suck. But just because I haven't found the time to scrawl a few unintelligible lines (my handwriting gets more atrocious by the day) on a card, it doesn't mean I don't love you...

It just means I suck.

Ho. Ho. HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOboy.

*i'm not even sure how this started, but it's how my boss and i start conversations with one another, after the official "dude" greeting. this started many, many years ago... and as much as we try to stop duding, we can't. when he first rescued me from my old job... i mean, hired me... i told him i'd do my best not to "dude" him in front of the rest of the staff, but that didn't last long. and he's as bad as i am. in fact, the return address on his family christmas card started with "dude...."

It's the most wonderful time...

2007-12-09T22:36:00.000-08:00

....or something like that. (I like to sing that to friends when we witness people being cranky in the midst of some sort of holiday activity. Which seems to happen a lot. Hello, point-missers!)

So I was all set to go out and get myself a Christmas tree today when a) I realized that the notion of staying home relaxing was much more enticing, after a really busy week and a busy Saturday and b) I took a look at my calendar. It makes no sense for me to get a tree. Even though I'm not going out of town this year, I'm hardly going to be home to enjoy a tree between now and Christmas, between work, hula, and my social calendar.

Then I decided, amid my slothfulness, that I would at least get my non-tree holiday decor out. And then I realized I needed to clean house before putting more knick-knacks (or dust collectors, as my mom likes to call them) about, and then that would complicate future house cleanings, because there'd be more stuff to move and dust... and that idea sounded less appealing.

Is this how Scrooge got his start?

A hoo-ha to remember??!?!

2007-12-05T22:58:00.001-08:00

Saw the lady-parts doctor today, for my annual bout of humiliation in stirrups. The good thing is that I got to see the doc I used to have, years ago, before my insurance changed and would no longer cover visits with her. Since she's the best lady-parts doc EVER, I'm thrilled to have her back.

As thrilled as one can be, while sitting in a paper "gown," and sliding down so one's ass meets the end of the table.

She walked into the exam room, looked at me, and asked if we'd met before.

I was shocked, as it's been more than a decade since I've seen her. Yes, I told her, I used to be a patient of yours, years ago.

You have no idea how glad I was that she was looking at my face while we were having this conversation.

Oh, and as a parting gift, I received a copy of this:

Yes, it's for ladies of a certain age. Who are in or are approaching The Change. Could the name of the publication be more ridiculous?

It's my own fault; I mentioned that I thought I was peri-menopausal (it's possible, as much as ten years before), and she was just trying to be helpful.

Still. Get me my walker and warm up my rocking chair, kids! I'm officially old.

Hahahahahahaa-ku...

2007-12-04T23:46:00.001-08:00

no, i shouldn't laugh

i'm in a much better place

but i can't help it

Ho, ho, holy crap...

2007-12-02T22:09:00.000-08:00

How did it get to be December already? Does it feel like Christmastime to you?

I can't believe Thanksgiving was already more than a week ago. That was another lovely visit to my friend Cindy's family compound in SoCal, by the way. Yes, that WAS us at the Kohl's in Poway at 4 a.m. on Black Friday. There were hundreds of people waiting in line to get in before us, crazily enough. And that was us having burgers at the Red Robin at North County Fair at 9:30 a.m., too. And yes, I got my snow globe from Penney's this year; since we weren't there when the store opened, there was reason to be concerned that we'd miss out, but hooray, we didn't. It wouldn't be a proper Black Friday without those free snow globes!

And then, as I was returning home on Sunday, I ended up driving on a flat tire as I left the lot where I'd parked my car near the Oakland airport and had a delightful adventure trying to find a spot that felt safe to pull over while my tire was shredding on the freeway. At 11:15 p.m. In a not-so-great part of town. Luckily, Triple A wasn't very busy, so I didn't wait long for a tow truck to help me out. (No, I've never changed a tire, and I wasn't about to try to learn how at that hour in that location.)

So here we are, at the holidays again. And this year's a little weirder than most; my mom's not up for a trip out here, and doesn't want me to go to her place, so I'm completely on my own this season. That's a first in my adult life -- I've either had a husband or my mom and the person formerly known as my brother to spend the holidays with, even after my mom moved to Wisconsin eight years ago. This is partly why I've ended up traveling during so many holidays since then -- to keep the Holiday Lonelies away. (And to spend Christmas with my mom, of course. It doesn't seem right not to.)

The holidays can be the bane of a single person's existence... especially with those fucking jewelry commercials every five seconds. Gaah. (Then again, I remember that hideous last holiday season with the ex. I've never felt so lonely in my life as I did that Christmas.)

However, I'm finding I have several friends in the same situation this year, so we're working to put together alternative celebrations. One girlfriend and I are trying to see if we can find a spa experience on Christmas day. We're hoping that at least one hotel with a spa has at least limited hours on the big day. And we've just been invited to dinner at a major foodie co-worker's home, so that will be amazing. I think I'm spending Christmas Eve -- which for years has been a bigger deal in my family -- out at one of my fave neighborhood restaurants with the other orphans from work. So instead of feeling sorry for myself, I'm looking forward to these low-stress adventures.

But don't get me started on New Year's Eve.

p.s. hey look! updated links over there ------->

Chemistry test...

2007-11-20T23:11:00.000-08:00

It's one of those things no one can define, but we all know it has to be there to make a relationship work. (Even friendships require a certain chemistry, no?) And when it's not there, boy, is that obvious.

I dated a guy a few years ago who was a really wonderful man -- smart, funny, caring, etc etc. -- but I had no physical attraction to him at all. I dated him longer than I probably should have, because I really WANTED it to work. He possessed so many of the qualities I seek... but the first time he kissed me, I wanted him to stop. Not a good sign. I knew at that moment I had to end it.

But here is what I always wonder: can chemistry develop over time? Or is it something that has to be there at the outset of a relationship?

Me, I've seen it both ways. I've been in situations where I've felt it instantly, and I've also felt it develop after knowing someone for a long time.

So that kind of dooms so many dating situations -- particularly of the online variety, once it enters the real world -- because everyone's looking for instant chemistry. I'm guilty of that as well.

I'd like to know your thoughts....

Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving! See y'all next week.

Queen of the Klutzes...

2007-11-17T22:13:00.000-08:00

So there I was, walking down the stairs in my apartment building yesterday, carrying my purse, the bag I schlep to work, and a box o'stuff to be shipped to a friend, when my heel got caught in bottom of my jeans...and I fell.

It was one of those things that seemed almost to happen in slow motion. As soon as I lost my footing, I knew the fall was unstoppable, and that the landing was going to be painful. I was standing about 5'10" in those shoes...

And it was painful. After sorta tumbling sideways down about five steps, I landed on my back on the lobby floor, whacking my head on the ground as I did. Luckily, I didn't lose consciousness, but I did have the wind knocked out of me for a few seconds.

And then I didn't know what to do. I stayed put for a few moments, trying to assess how seriously I'd hurt myself. Then I sat up, and crawled carefully over to the stairs to sit there for a little while. I had no idea what to do. Should I go back to my apartment? Should I go to the hospital? Should I get in my car and go to work? I seemed to be okay, though completely rattled, so I eventually got up, picked up my things and went to my car. I sat in it for a few moments, still unsure of how to proceed.

I ended up heading to work, because aside from the nasty headache, I was intact. And I figured it would be best to be around people who could keep an eye on me all day and call for help if it turned out that I WAS seriously hurt. Of course, the first thing I did when I got there was to research concussions online, to see whether I really SHOULD be seeking medical attention.

Here's the really amazing thing: aside from the bump* on my head, and a couple of surprisingly small bruises, I'm fine. I've shown no symptoms of a serious concussion. I'm sore today in many places -- my neck, my upper back, and my core muscles are especially unhappy -- but nothing is broken, nothing bled, nothing is so bad that some rest, relaxation, stretching and anti-inflammatories won't heal. (And I am closely monitoring myself, in case something serious develops...)

I'm thinking I should stop thinking such negative thoughts about my body. Yes, it's bigger than I'd like it to be, but it has been strong and resilient through all of the torture I've put it through in my 43 years. And perhaps some of that extra padding I carry around actually helped me in this case...!

*i so wanted to write "i have a bimp on my head," but wasn't sure how many people would get it...

Somebody stop me...

2007-11-11T19:16:00.000-08:00

I have gone shopping-crazy of late.

I've always been a clothes fiend. I LOVE to shop for clothes -- when I can find stuff that's flattering, that is. And in those years of extreme frugality, I didn't do much of that. I just couldn't. And I'd rarely shop unless a sale was underway (I'll always be a sucker for a bargain).

Now that my financial situation has changed, though... um... well... yeah. There's some pent-up desire that's been unleashed, that's for sure... and I keep finding really flattering clothing. I mean, there's stuff I've tried on and thought, DAMN. This looks GOOD on me. How can I not buy something that makes me feel like that?

I've even found a really cute dress for my company Christmas party - one I just love, and am not just tolerating. I can't wait to break it out.

It's so wonderful to have so many options to choose from on any given day. I can go forever without worrying about laundry. I even have some clothes now that make me look like I'm a professional and everything. Whoda thunk?

But I have to stop now. I think I've bought more new clothes and shoes in the past six months than I have in the past six years. It's time to stop.

For now. Well, once I get some boots to wear with this other really cute dress that gets rave reviews whenever I wear it. THEN I'm done. No really.

Then again, Black Friday approacheth...

SO...flippin'...busy!

2007-11-08T22:34:00.000-08:00

A peek into the last couple of weeks:

Hula classes, twice a week.

Two hula shows, including a gala dinner.

A separate weeknight outing with my hula brothers and sisters. (I actually hula'd in public. Eek!)

A day of wine-tasting.

A wine-sodden, work-related banquet, where I (and my co-workers) managed to piss some people off. Oops.

A wine-sodden* Oakland Raiders game, in the extreme heat. Okay, it felt extreme, sitting in the hot sun with no breeze whatsoever. Did I mention that was the day after the aforementioned banquet?

A weeknight dinner at a colleague's house, the same day I spent many hours in that nun's habit.

A weeknight outing to celebrate the engagement of a friend.

A weeknight performance of American Ballet Theatre, across the Bay. (Omigod, they were amazing. SO glad I went, despite my state of crabby exhaustion. Got to see a ballet I've wanted to see for decades, and it was fantastic.)

Very, very busy days at work... VERY. I spent a couple of days doing someone else's job while also trying to do my own. FUN.

I have hardly been home. I am so tired I want to throw up.

I am so happy I have a massage scheduled for Sunday morning.

TGI(almost)F.

*remember, i can't drink beer. hello, glass o'gluten! if i could, you wouldn't find me drinking wine at a sporting event. sheesh.

Introducing....

2007-10-31T23:02:00.000-07:00

Sister Theresa Catherine, Mother Inferior.

Don't mess with her.

She's not afraid to use that ruler. Judging by that look on her face, she WANTS to use that ruler...

(A stranger I passed on the street today asked me if I was wearing a costume. Oh. My. GOD. I was told by several people that I'm a very convincing nun. I really am fulfilling the prophecy set forth by that very nun-like name of mine...!!)

(Also? I took off the costume a few hours ago, and it STILL feels like that stuff is on my head. I have a new respect for actual nuns who have to wear real habits.)

Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays...

2007-10-29T22:41:00.000-07:00

That would be me.

I am too cranky to post right now.

Even though I got to watch some amazing hula this weekend. Truly amazing. And humbling.

Even though I have ten million yummy new bottles of wine, purchased during a lovely trip to wine country last Thursday.

Even though I had a blast hanging (and gossiping) with my hula brothers and sisters (sorry, this is what we're supposed to call each other) during a gathering away from class last week. And during a pre-show gala the other night.

Gaaah.

I'm sure I've forgotten to include the cover sheet on my TPS report today, too. Yes, I have the memo.

Surreal...

2007-10-22T22:28:00.000-07:00

*UPDATE AT THE END OF THIS POST*

I have the worst sinus headache ever. It's as if my sinuses are the perfect tool to measure the amount of humidity in the air; when there is little to none, as there is now, they hurt like a mofo.

But at least I'm not fleeing the community in which I grew up, and watching it go up in flames behind me.

If you've watched CNN at all today, you may have become familiar with the San Diego county town of Rancho Bernardo*. That's where I spent my formative years, and it's really strange watching these crazy fires consume parts of it.

Even worse, my dear friends in Poway, one town over, have had to evacuate... as have most of their relatives in nearby communities. The thing is... these fires are burning so fast and furious, it seems like there will soon be no place to go. There are coastal towns that have been evacuated. Are these fires going to burn all the way to the sea??

Now, as some of you may recall, I have a lot of less-than-rosy memories of my years in this part of the world, and couldn't get out fast enough. I don't think I could stand to live there ever again. But it still breaks my heart to watch what's happening. It's really strange seeing my hometown on CNN. And to wonder whether our old townhouse is still standing.

And I'm very worried for my pal Cindy and her clan; they're like my second family, and they've been kind enough to let me crash their Thanksgiving celebrations for the past several years (though she's joking today that I should be prepared to host all of THEM this year...).

So please join me in sending positive thoughts their way. And let's all call on Mother Nature to turn up the humidity and turn off the wind, 'mmmkay?

*photo of Rancho Bernardo from the Los Angeles Times

**UPDATED TO ADD: Good news -- Cindy and her parents were allowed to return to their homes today (Tuesday), though they're keeping their cars packed and ready to go. Her brother, who lives in Ramona with his wife and young daughter, can't go home yet, but it looks like their home is okay. My old house isn't on the official list of burned houses, but it looks like the place where my pal Kimmy used to live nearby is gone -- a neighbor's is, along with a bunch of other homes on the same street. I have many fond memories of the time we spent there, swimming, hot tubbing, and laughing our asses off.

Thanks for all your kind wishes and good thoughts.

You know I'd vote for him...

2007-10-17T21:42:00.000-07:00

Hell, I'd be his Monica Lewinsky!

I guess my "Stewart/Colbert '08" shirt is already out of date...

Meh...

2007-10-16T22:38:00.001-07:00

I've done it again. And I'm regretting it.

Yes, I've stepped back into the world of online dating. This was in the interest of putting a message out to the universe, inviting some momentum into this part of my life, yada yada yada. Whatevs.

And I have one question for you: what is it with some men and run-on sentences?? It seems that nearly every dude I've heard from has a profile (or composes email) that's nothing but one long sentence with tons of misspelled words and no real point. I'm sorry, but this stuff matters to me. I'm a sucker for a clever, well-written mash note.

It was funny for awhile there. I mean, REALLY funny...to the point where I'd practically pee my pants reading profiles/emails. Now I'm just bored with it. I'm still exchanging emails with one guy who actually READ what I wrote about myself (a rarity!) and what I'm seeking, but I'm bored with this getting-to-know-you conversation already.

As I said... meh. What was I thinking?