Several award winning movies are out there right now that I'd love to see. I recently saw Sandra Bullock's award winning performance in 'The Blind Side' On Demand at the home of my pet client de jour. I've seen 'Up in the Air' which I found better than expected and thought provoking.
I haven't seen most of the other winners, though. I'd still like to view 'Avatar' (in 3D, of course), 'Precious' (also listed On Demand right now), and 'The Hurt Locker'. 'An Education' and 'Young Victoria' are other notable films that warrant a visit.
Although it's gotten mixed reviews by friends, I'd like to see "Alice in Wonderland" at the IMAX. One friend said it was a fun, entertaining and a great movie, another said he walked out on it. Very mixed reviews.
There are lots of great movies to choose from right now. So what, pray tell, possessed a group of educated and savvy urban women to fork over $10.50 each to see 'The Bounty Hunter' last Saturday night? We chicks just wanted to indulge in a light, romantic comedy. Something predictable and easy on the eyes. Apparently, we weren't in the mood for the Oscar films that night, a.k.a. the worthy films. We were in classic chick flick mode and figured this one would be fun and entertaining.
We aren't a bunch of stupid broads by any means. We knew full well going into this movie that it wouldn't be any Oscar nominee. And we even were pretty sure it might be kinda bad. We had no idea, however, just how bad. It was baaaad. It was beyond bad. If it weren't for the fact that I was with other people, and one of those people was my ride home, I might have walked out. I never feel the urge to walk out of a movie. I always need to know how it ends. I've only recently been able to give myself permission to give up on a book I can't get into. I'm one of those optimistic sorts who is sure the plot will get better, something great is going to happen at the end, or there will be an interesting twist.
Our current book club book is just one of those books. "Rapt" by Winifred Gallagher argues that your life success is the sum of what you focus on. While the subject matter sounded interesting - Attention and the Focused Life- it felt like reading a text book. I've read text books that were less dry. I made it to page 35, but just couldn't ....well...focus. I jumped toward the end of the book to see if things seemed to pick up. They didn't. The book was due back to the library the other day. Rather than renewing the loan, I gave it back. I might be missing something, but I'll take that chance.
In many ways, I wished I'd given up on 'The Bounty Hunter'. Nearly two hours of watching Jennifer Aniston (who really is hot) run around in a skimpy outfit and 4" pumps like Erin Brachovich was exhausting. The acting was lame, the plot unbelievable, and the comedy non-existent. A "Razzie" nominee for sure.
You may be wondering, knowing my financial state, "why, why, why, WW, would you spend your limited hard earned dough on this trash"? Luckily I had a movie gift certificate, so it wasn't my own hard earned cash. However, I do feel a little guilty spending someone else's hard earned cash in such a careless and unappreciative manner.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Such a Dude
A friend and I were commiserating over the whole Valentine's Day issue. Worse than facing this "Sweetheart's Day" without a sweetheart (which it absolutely OK, by the way) is when you are in the very early not-sure-where-this-is-headed stages of dating.
New Year's Eve was closing in and we both agreed we'd better not start getting involved with anyone just yet. We needed to avoid the obligatory New Year's Eve dates with virtual strangers. For me Christmas, New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day are dog eared for truly special loved ones. Leave Fourth of July, St. Patty's Day and Halloween for the newly dating. They are somewhat special, but still casual holidays to share with those you're still getting to know better.
My friend and I have both started dating men fairly recently, not exclusively and it's definitely early stages. She called me the other day, "Where's the "safe" Valentine's card, one that says I sort of hope to be a friend you dig without saying so much it scares him off?" I agree, or the one that says, "I think I might dig you, but I'm still getting to know you, so don't go scaring me off"? Which is the one I'm looking for.
The cards out there are either too mushy geared toward the newly in love. They focus on the old married couple and make jokes about annoying habits and sagging whatevers. Or they engage in inappropriate crude sex jokes. None fit our situation. I suggested a card that is blank inside, then she can write her own message. I don't think that went over too well. Heck, I bill myself as a writer and I don't want to necessarily go down that road either.
The dude I'm seeing slightly more than any other guy I'm also seeing is getting a bit ahead of himself as far as I'm concerned. He did ask in an awkward high schoolish sort of way if he could be my "go to" guy. What does that even mean? Go to when I have a leaky toilet that needs fixing? Go to when I have a problem to hash out? Go to for sex? We haven't even had a proper kiss yet. How can he ask me to be his "go to" guy? I hung up baffled after that conversation.
Thursday he sent me a dozen red roses. Now most women would swoon over such a gesture. Even as I'm unwrapping my FTD box I'm thinking "Please don't be red roses". Oh, red roses are, of course, stunning. But they also show a complete lack of creativity and imagination, especially this time of year. Red roses in July (for, say, my birthday) totally spontaneous. Red roses at Valentine's equals no thought whatsoever went into this gift. I relayed this story to another friend who quite accurately said, "You're such a dude."
She is correct. I possess an inordinate amount of testosterone for such a girly girl. I keep my hair on the longer side and wavy, paint my nails, splurge on pedicures, wear flowy skirts and strappy sandals as soon as the weather permits. I'm a fuss budget about having my bed made up, wear lots of jewelry, flowery fabrics and pink. I love pink! But when it comes to men, I think I have more testosterone than they do in many ways. Sometimes they can be so needy.
The message that accompanied these (yes, very beautiful) roses made my heart race slightly, and not in the fluttering pitter patter good way either. It was more of a minor panic. If my feelings matched his, I'd find the gesture romantic and heartwarming. This man is on hyper-drive, while I'm still in first gear pulling out of the driveway, unsure yet which road to take and where it'll lead. Getting to know someone slowly over time works best for me when considering an actual relationship (as opposed to the occasional fling I've been known to indulge in). He's already jammed it into 5th gear and is speeding down the highway of love. Slow down, dude, I can barely breathe and the scenery is flashing by in a blur! I tried to express myself to this man, but he tells me he is "smitten".
Okay, I just said how I wasn't smitten in a prior post and here he is saying he is smitten. Clearly we are on different pages of our book. In response to that post my cousin graciously supplied us with the definitions of "smitten" :
1. struck with a hard blow
2. grievously or disastrously stricken or afflicted
3. enamored, infatuated, taken; very much in love.
Enamored or disastrously stricken? I'm somewhere in the middle.
Back to the card, how am I ever going to find one that expresses just how I feel? I might just present him with a red velvet cupcake. That just says I care enough to have thought of you, but not enough to express any actual emotions just yet. A dude move for sure!
New Year's Eve was closing in and we both agreed we'd better not start getting involved with anyone just yet. We needed to avoid the obligatory New Year's Eve dates with virtual strangers. For me Christmas, New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day are dog eared for truly special loved ones. Leave Fourth of July, St. Patty's Day and Halloween for the newly dating. They are somewhat special, but still casual holidays to share with those you're still getting to know better.
My friend and I have both started dating men fairly recently, not exclusively and it's definitely early stages. She called me the other day, "Where's the "safe" Valentine's card, one that says I sort of hope to be a friend you dig without saying so much it scares him off?" I agree, or the one that says, "I think I might dig you, but I'm still getting to know you, so don't go scaring me off"? Which is the one I'm looking for.
The cards out there are either too mushy geared toward the newly in love. They focus on the old married couple and make jokes about annoying habits and sagging whatevers. Or they engage in inappropriate crude sex jokes. None fit our situation. I suggested a card that is blank inside, then she can write her own message. I don't think that went over too well. Heck, I bill myself as a writer and I don't want to necessarily go down that road either.
The dude I'm seeing slightly more than any other guy I'm also seeing is getting a bit ahead of himself as far as I'm concerned. He did ask in an awkward high schoolish sort of way if he could be my "go to" guy. What does that even mean? Go to when I have a leaky toilet that needs fixing? Go to when I have a problem to hash out? Go to for sex? We haven't even had a proper kiss yet. How can he ask me to be his "go to" guy? I hung up baffled after that conversation.
Thursday he sent me a dozen red roses. Now most women would swoon over such a gesture. Even as I'm unwrapping my FTD box I'm thinking "Please don't be red roses". Oh, red roses are, of course, stunning. But they also show a complete lack of creativity and imagination, especially this time of year. Red roses in July (for, say, my birthday) totally spontaneous. Red roses at Valentine's equals no thought whatsoever went into this gift. I relayed this story to another friend who quite accurately said, "You're such a dude."
She is correct. I possess an inordinate amount of testosterone for such a girly girl. I keep my hair on the longer side and wavy, paint my nails, splurge on pedicures, wear flowy skirts and strappy sandals as soon as the weather permits. I'm a fuss budget about having my bed made up, wear lots of jewelry, flowery fabrics and pink. I love pink! But when it comes to men, I think I have more testosterone than they do in many ways. Sometimes they can be so needy.
The message that accompanied these (yes, very beautiful) roses made my heart race slightly, and not in the fluttering pitter patter good way either. It was more of a minor panic. If my feelings matched his, I'd find the gesture romantic and heartwarming. This man is on hyper-drive, while I'm still in first gear pulling out of the driveway, unsure yet which road to take and where it'll lead. Getting to know someone slowly over time works best for me when considering an actual relationship (as opposed to the occasional fling I've been known to indulge in). He's already jammed it into 5th gear and is speeding down the highway of love. Slow down, dude, I can barely breathe and the scenery is flashing by in a blur! I tried to express myself to this man, but he tells me he is "smitten".
Okay, I just said how I wasn't smitten in a prior post and here he is saying he is smitten. Clearly we are on different pages of our book. In response to that post my cousin graciously supplied us with the definitions of "smitten" :
1. struck with a hard blow
2. grievously or disastrously stricken or afflicted
3. enamored, infatuated, taken; very much in love.
Enamored or disastrously stricken? I'm somewhere in the middle.
Back to the card, how am I ever going to find one that expresses just how I feel? I might just present him with a red velvet cupcake. That just says I care enough to have thought of you, but not enough to express any actual emotions just yet. A dude move for sure!
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Good for the Soul
Of all the different dating services there are today speed dating is still my top pick. I always have fun and usually meet someone I end up dating. People often say speed dating isn't for them because "how can you tell anything in six minutes"? From my experience, you can spend hours sorting through on line applicants, have several email exchanges, agree to meet, and within six minutes of meeting face to face you know if you're going to pursue this any further. So I cut out all that "prep-work" and just go straight to the six minute date.
I haven't met "Mr. Right", but really the point is just to date, sort and have fun while on the journey to Mr. Right. And maybe there is no Mr. Right for me. That's okay too, but I'm certainly going to continue dating.
During my last speeding dating episode in mid-Dec (I've only done this three times, so I'm no expert really), I met one interesting guy. Turns out, he was #8 on the docket, the very last contestant. Some of you may recall, my last speed dater was #8, and we dated for, yes, 8 months. My New #8 took me out on what I'd have to say was the best first date I've had in a very long time. We went to the Seattle Art Museum to see the Michelangelo Exhibit, and then had dinner afterwards. He asked me if I would object if he invited another couple along. Of course I didn't object, but I found it rather odd. Inviting another couple on our first date? Shouldn't we try to get to know each other better first before dragging our friends into it? As it turned out, I loved his friends! Furthermore, a good way to get to know someone is by observing them with their friends. I'd never really thought about this before. The entire evening was fun with lively conversation, great banter and I definitely would like to see this guy again.
In the meantime, I've also been seeing this hot hot bus driver who drives me to church every Sunday (okay, not every Sunday because I don't actually attend church every Sunday, but I sure stepped up my attendance after meeting my new chauffeur). I met him a couple months ago and my mouth literally fell open upon climbing aboard the Number 2 bus. This totally Rasta looking dude with the dreads, beautiful smile and knee buckling accent got my full attention. I lived in Europe for over three years, I'm not all that taken in with accents in general, but this one is sexy. I rode to the end of the line with him and we chatted a bit. This went on for a few weeks and I finally formally introduced myself and he asked me to coffee. He's actually not Rasta dude at all, he's from Venezuela. Meow. A coffee date turned into a drink date and I learn more about this fella. He is younger than me, but I don't actually know how old he is. I think I really do not care.
Our last date involved him coming over to mine and cooking for me. While I was a little nervous about the final outcome...eh hem...it's always dangerous to have a sexy man alone in my apartment, I agreed to let him in. Wearing my best jeans, candles lit all over the apt, Marvin Gaye on the Panasonic, what did I honestly expect to happen? Seriously, could it go any other way?
Meanwhile, up in Snohomish County, my New #8 is currently purchasing restaurant coupons and planning events for our next date.
Oh, I haven't perfected the art of dating two men at once. I may need to call in reinforcements for juggling advice in the near future. However, the fact that they live in separate counties is helpful. I am not going to feel bad about it. I'm dating. Getting to know these men. At some point, I'll determine which one, if either one, is a keeper. Honestly, I think my Venezuelan Bus Driver won't last. But like a little Marvin Gaye, he is certainly good for a girl's soul.
I haven't met "Mr. Right", but really the point is just to date, sort and have fun while on the journey to Mr. Right. And maybe there is no Mr. Right for me. That's okay too, but I'm certainly going to continue dating.
During my last speeding dating episode in mid-Dec (I've only done this three times, so I'm no expert really), I met one interesting guy. Turns out, he was #8 on the docket, the very last contestant. Some of you may recall, my last speed dater was #8, and we dated for, yes, 8 months. My New #8 took me out on what I'd have to say was the best first date I've had in a very long time. We went to the Seattle Art Museum to see the Michelangelo Exhibit, and then had dinner afterwards. He asked me if I would object if he invited another couple along. Of course I didn't object, but I found it rather odd. Inviting another couple on our first date? Shouldn't we try to get to know each other better first before dragging our friends into it? As it turned out, I loved his friends! Furthermore, a good way to get to know someone is by observing them with their friends. I'd never really thought about this before. The entire evening was fun with lively conversation, great banter and I definitely would like to see this guy again.
In the meantime, I've also been seeing this hot hot bus driver who drives me to church every Sunday (okay, not every Sunday because I don't actually attend church every Sunday, but I sure stepped up my attendance after meeting my new chauffeur). I met him a couple months ago and my mouth literally fell open upon climbing aboard the Number 2 bus. This totally Rasta looking dude with the dreads, beautiful smile and knee buckling accent got my full attention. I lived in Europe for over three years, I'm not all that taken in with accents in general, but this one is sexy. I rode to the end of the line with him and we chatted a bit. This went on for a few weeks and I finally formally introduced myself and he asked me to coffee. He's actually not Rasta dude at all, he's from Venezuela. Meow. A coffee date turned into a drink date and I learn more about this fella. He is younger than me, but I don't actually know how old he is. I think I really do not care.
Our last date involved him coming over to mine and cooking for me. While I was a little nervous about the final outcome...eh hem...it's always dangerous to have a sexy man alone in my apartment, I agreed to let him in. Wearing my best jeans, candles lit all over the apt, Marvin Gaye on the Panasonic, what did I honestly expect to happen? Seriously, could it go any other way?
Meanwhile, up in Snohomish County, my New #8 is currently purchasing restaurant coupons and planning events for our next date.
Oh, I haven't perfected the art of dating two men at once. I may need to call in reinforcements for juggling advice in the near future. However, the fact that they live in separate counties is helpful. I am not going to feel bad about it. I'm dating. Getting to know these men. At some point, I'll determine which one, if either one, is a keeper. Honestly, I think my Venezuelan Bus Driver won't last. But like a little Marvin Gaye, he is certainly good for a girl's soul.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Resolve To Not Resolve
The other night Dr. Phil's show focused on resolutions. The first show of the new year, it was appropriate subject matter. His tag lines were "What will you leave behind in 2009?" and "Don't do it again in 2010". Seems to be the year of the rhyme. One of the Ministers at church came up with "save the men in 2010." Hey, he got a laugh and a round of applause from the single women in the crowd.
I, too, have been mulling over my new year's resolutions. I don't generally make them because I'm quite good at forgetting them as soon as I write them down, or even before I've gotten so far as to write them down, if you really want to know the truth. I'll think of something really worth resolving while I'm riding on the bus. I'm standing and can't let go of the handrail to fish into my tote for a pen and notepad. As soon as I get to work (10 minutes later) I think "now what was that resolution I thought of on the bus? I'm pretty sure it was a good one. Oh well." And then I carry on with life sans any resolutions.
I've come up with a few resolutions to work on this year, but here are a few of the more ridiculous resolutions I've resolved to not resolve.
Ridiculous Resolution #1
Lose Weight/Get Into Shape - I can run after my bus every morning (usually in heels and carrying a tote, purse, lunch bag et al), I can climb up to the top of Queen Anne Hill in 10 minutes or less and continue at a brisk pace for a decent workout, I can walk miles, lift heavy boxes, climb my four flights of stairs several times a day, ski a black diamond run, hike Mailbox Peak (although I'm not finding it as appealing these days). I can yoga, salsa and hip hop (although it's not pretty). I don't need to have rock hard abs. I'm not a dancer, performer, bodybuilder or any other exhibitionist. It'd be nice to have amazing abs, but it's just not going to happen. I'm soft and curvy. Always have been always will be. Acceptance.
Ridiculous Resolution #2
Cut Out Sugar - I have a sweet tooth. I feel the need to round off a healthy meal with a bite of something sweet. Not an entire pie, or huge slice of chocolate cake, just a bite - something shared, a small taste will do. I'm not giving that up. Yes, this explains #1.
Ridiculous Resolution #3
Find My Dream Job - That seems to be an ongoing resolution that is neither ignored nor achieved after so many January 1st's having passed. After over a dozen jobs in the past 3 years, I've come to the conclusion that I like change. I thrive on change. I love changing jobs every few months, meeting new people, learning a new industry, developing new skills and brushing up on old ones. While most people stress over the first day of work, unsure about where to hang their coat, put their lunch, who to eat with, I find the whole experience exciting in some weird way. Constant change is my dream job. If only it was more lucrative.
Ridiculous Resolution #4
Pay Off VISA Every Month - If I had the money to pay off my VISA every month, I would not have to use my VISA in the first place. (See #3 - the not-so-lucrative career of the ever changing jobs temp)
Ridiculous Resolution #5
Start My Own Business - Okay, this is more of a pipe dream than a resolution. With #3 and #4 in place, this one is simply...well...ridiculous.
Good luck to all of you with your not-so-ridiculous New Year's Resolutions!
I, too, have been mulling over my new year's resolutions. I don't generally make them because I'm quite good at forgetting them as soon as I write them down, or even before I've gotten so far as to write them down, if you really want to know the truth. I'll think of something really worth resolving while I'm riding on the bus. I'm standing and can't let go of the handrail to fish into my tote for a pen and notepad. As soon as I get to work (10 minutes later) I think "now what was that resolution I thought of on the bus? I'm pretty sure it was a good one. Oh well." And then I carry on with life sans any resolutions.
I've come up with a few resolutions to work on this year, but here are a few of the more ridiculous resolutions I've resolved to not resolve.
Ridiculous Resolution #1
Lose Weight/Get Into Shape - I can run after my bus every morning (usually in heels and carrying a tote, purse, lunch bag et al), I can climb up to the top of Queen Anne Hill in 10 minutes or less and continue at a brisk pace for a decent workout, I can walk miles, lift heavy boxes, climb my four flights of stairs several times a day, ski a black diamond run, hike Mailbox Peak (although I'm not finding it as appealing these days). I can yoga, salsa and hip hop (although it's not pretty). I don't need to have rock hard abs. I'm not a dancer, performer, bodybuilder or any other exhibitionist. It'd be nice to have amazing abs, but it's just not going to happen. I'm soft and curvy. Always have been always will be. Acceptance.
Ridiculous Resolution #2
Cut Out Sugar - I have a sweet tooth. I feel the need to round off a healthy meal with a bite of something sweet. Not an entire pie, or huge slice of chocolate cake, just a bite - something shared, a small taste will do. I'm not giving that up. Yes, this explains #1.
Ridiculous Resolution #3
Find My Dream Job - That seems to be an ongoing resolution that is neither ignored nor achieved after so many January 1st's having passed. After over a dozen jobs in the past 3 years, I've come to the conclusion that I like change. I thrive on change. I love changing jobs every few months, meeting new people, learning a new industry, developing new skills and brushing up on old ones. While most people stress over the first day of work, unsure about where to hang their coat, put their lunch, who to eat with, I find the whole experience exciting in some weird way. Constant change is my dream job. If only it was more lucrative.
Ridiculous Resolution #4
Pay Off VISA Every Month - If I had the money to pay off my VISA every month, I would not have to use my VISA in the first place. (See #3 - the not-so-lucrative career of the ever changing jobs temp)
Ridiculous Resolution #5
Start My Own Business - Okay, this is more of a pipe dream than a resolution. With #3 and #4 in place, this one is simply...well...ridiculous.
Good luck to all of you with your not-so-ridiculous New Year's Resolutions!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Merry Bah Humbug and a Happy New Year
Wow. What a season. It was busy and full of the usual holiday festivities. There was a definite "Merry Bah Humbug" in the air. In one sense the holiday season drives us crazy. For instance those piped in Christmas carols in every store. I love holiday music, but you hear "Jingle Bells" screeching over the speakers at Macy's one too many times and you begin to cringe at the sound of all carols, sung anywhere...even in church, where they most certainly belong.
I love Christmas cookies, especially sugar cookies. They are the quintessential holiday treat. I practically live for them. I didn't bake any myself (way too much work in my tiny kitchenette) but I figured co-workers and clients would be bestowing cookies and treats on our office all month long. Wrong. Not one cookie entered the halls of AKJ Law. Not that my waistline needed such extravagance, but sheesh, it's Christmas. I wanted a damn cookie! Shaped like a tree maybe or a star...with those little green and red sprinkles on it. To make matters worse, my ex-mother-in-law was the queen of Christmas cookies and treats. I was lamenting to a friend about how I'd wished I 'd at least gotten a few recipes off that woman before my divorce. A few days later, I receive an email from this same friend bragging about the plate of "Marge's cookies" she just plowed through. She and my ex-husband are still friends. Sigh.
And don't even get me started on the crowds and all the mad spending. I'm running shopping errands during my lunch break so, of course, I'm in a hurry. Invariably, I'm stuck behind the lallygaggers who are strolling through the stores getting in my way. On one hand I'm annoyed by their lackadaisical pace, on the other I'm quite envious. Why aren't I slowly meandering through the shops holding hands with my sweetie savoring the Christmas moment?
Then there is the big question of the year, what to buy for whom? It's like everyone is traipsing through the stores seeking the best way to throw their money away. "Would you like a gift receipt with that?" the sales woman asks. "Hell yeah, cause I'm pretty sure Mary Sue is going to want to return this piece of crap anyway." Why do we spend so much time searching to spend? I do the same. I refuse to cave to the gift card idea and insist on giving an actual gift- something the receiver can "open". Except I am so bad at it. I ponder far too long and then all the good stuff in the right sizes and best colors are gone. And the scales of equality are all off kilter. Someone you normally exchange small tokens with suddenly presents you with an extravagant gift. There is just no way to feel good about that exchange.
Yeah, the Christmas season is full of traditions that can make any person at least a little crazy. But then there are the wonderful bits. Like the lights and decorations downtown that are so elegant and cheery, you can't help but feel the spirit. The Ginger Bread House display at the Sheraton and The Figgy Pudding Caroling Contest that is full of talent and surprises. The Christmas shows, plays, musical entertainment throughout the month of December at a variety of prices (including free) so everyone can find something to celebrate the season. This year I attended the Cirque de la Symphony at Benaroya Hall (highly recommended for the spendier lot) and the Improv Christmas Carol at the Pike Place Market Theater (a very affordable, entertaining must see).
My number one favorite Christmas thing, however, is my little 3-4' table top Christmas tree. Decorated in ornaments from various places I've visited and full of memories, it's my 'feel good' moment when I plug in those lights as soon as I get home. Because of its size, the entire process of getting the tree, putting it up, dragging out the Xmas box, decorating and cleaning up all took approximately 2 hours of my precious time. Small commitment for such great pleasure.
Getting through Christmas is only half the battle, as New Year's Eve follows on its heels in full force. Everyone wants to know what you're doing for New Year's. New Year's is one of those holidays that is reminiscent to those high school Tolos. The dances where the girls have to ask the boys to go with them. I always played along, but in hindsight I realize I hated those dances. The pressure of who to ask (I never had a steady boyfriend to go to those stupid things with), shopping for the perfect outfit, planning the evening events, getting the picture taken at the dance, and the inevitable -- never going out with the boy again.
New Year's Eve seems to have the same flavor. All week long people are asking me what my plans are. Usually, I make a plan, go to a party, go out of town, whatever it is, it seems to be a bit of a let down in the end. The ever ending traipsing around in search of a bad party. That damn clock ticks over to 12.00 midnight everyone around me is kissing someone. In the end, I go home alone and wake up to ponder another year...usually hung over from all the booze the night before.
This year, although there were plenty of opportunities to go out, dress up, and bring in the new year with others, I just wasn't in the mood. So I vowed to stay home and watch the Space Needle fireworks from my livingroom window. With a bird's eye view of the Needle, I am going to settle in, with a glass of bubbly, my tree lights on, reflect on my weird little life and watch the show. My first New Year's Eve alone. I love trying new things.
I love Christmas cookies, especially sugar cookies. They are the quintessential holiday treat. I practically live for them. I didn't bake any myself (way too much work in my tiny kitchenette) but I figured co-workers and clients would be bestowing cookies and treats on our office all month long. Wrong. Not one cookie entered the halls of AKJ Law. Not that my waistline needed such extravagance, but sheesh, it's Christmas. I wanted a damn cookie! Shaped like a tree maybe or a star...with those little green and red sprinkles on it. To make matters worse, my ex-mother-in-law was the queen of Christmas cookies and treats. I was lamenting to a friend about how I'd wished I 'd at least gotten a few recipes off that woman before my divorce. A few days later, I receive an email from this same friend bragging about the plate of "Marge's cookies" she just plowed through. She and my ex-husband are still friends. Sigh.
And don't even get me started on the crowds and all the mad spending. I'm running shopping errands during my lunch break so, of course, I'm in a hurry. Invariably, I'm stuck behind the lallygaggers who are strolling through the stores getting in my way. On one hand I'm annoyed by their lackadaisical pace, on the other I'm quite envious. Why aren't I slowly meandering through the shops holding hands with my sweetie savoring the Christmas moment?
Then there is the big question of the year, what to buy for whom? It's like everyone is traipsing through the stores seeking the best way to throw their money away. "Would you like a gift receipt with that?" the sales woman asks. "Hell yeah, cause I'm pretty sure Mary Sue is going to want to return this piece of crap anyway." Why do we spend so much time searching to spend? I do the same. I refuse to cave to the gift card idea and insist on giving an actual gift- something the receiver can "open". Except I am so bad at it. I ponder far too long and then all the good stuff in the right sizes and best colors are gone. And the scales of equality are all off kilter. Someone you normally exchange small tokens with suddenly presents you with an extravagant gift. There is just no way to feel good about that exchange.
Yeah, the Christmas season is full of traditions that can make any person at least a little crazy. But then there are the wonderful bits. Like the lights and decorations downtown that are so elegant and cheery, you can't help but feel the spirit. The Ginger Bread House display at the Sheraton and The Figgy Pudding Caroling Contest that is full of talent and surprises. The Christmas shows, plays, musical entertainment throughout the month of December at a variety of prices (including free) so everyone can find something to celebrate the season. This year I attended the Cirque de la Symphony at Benaroya Hall (highly recommended for the spendier lot) and the Improv Christmas Carol at the Pike Place Market Theater (a very affordable, entertaining must see).
My number one favorite Christmas thing, however, is my little 3-4' table top Christmas tree. Decorated in ornaments from various places I've visited and full of memories, it's my 'feel good' moment when I plug in those lights as soon as I get home. Because of its size, the entire process of getting the tree, putting it up, dragging out the Xmas box, decorating and cleaning up all took approximately 2 hours of my precious time. Small commitment for such great pleasure.
Getting through Christmas is only half the battle, as New Year's Eve follows on its heels in full force. Everyone wants to know what you're doing for New Year's. New Year's is one of those holidays that is reminiscent to those high school Tolos. The dances where the girls have to ask the boys to go with them. I always played along, but in hindsight I realize I hated those dances. The pressure of who to ask (I never had a steady boyfriend to go to those stupid things with), shopping for the perfect outfit, planning the evening events, getting the picture taken at the dance, and the inevitable -- never going out with the boy again.
New Year's Eve seems to have the same flavor. All week long people are asking me what my plans are. Usually, I make a plan, go to a party, go out of town, whatever it is, it seems to be a bit of a let down in the end. The ever ending traipsing around in search of a bad party. That damn clock ticks over to 12.00 midnight everyone around me is kissing someone. In the end, I go home alone and wake up to ponder another year...usually hung over from all the booze the night before.
This year, although there were plenty of opportunities to go out, dress up, and bring in the new year with others, I just wasn't in the mood. So I vowed to stay home and watch the Space Needle fireworks from my livingroom window. With a bird's eye view of the Needle, I am going to settle in, with a glass of bubbly, my tree lights on, reflect on my weird little life and watch the show. My first New Year's Eve alone. I love trying new things.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
TMI - How Much Is Too Much?
My friend and I are signed up to participate in a Speed Dating event this week. As some of you may be aware, I am familiar with the speed dating arena. Although I’m no expert, I'm somewhat seasoned in the art of the six minute date.
My friend, however, is a Speed Dating novice. She’s been divorced for just over a year ( one year, four months and four days….give or take). Actually, I may be dragging her to this event against her better judgment. However, she'd been in a relationship with her ex-husband for 20-some odd years. It’s weird out in the dating world these days and practice makes...err...perfect?
In a recent discussion with another friend who is going through a divorce and starting to date again, the topic of how much personal info to divulge on the first date arose. Just how much of your baggage do you share and how early in the game do you share it? It’s a sticky situation. There's not an easy answer. We strive to be honest and upfront, without being overly honest or upfront where it isn’t really warranted.
For example, one woman, I’ll call Fran…just because I’m pretty sure no one who reads this blog knows anyone named Fran, and I am trying to keep Fran’s situation anonymous. Fran was involved with a woman a while back. It was a semi-serious relationship, not one of those "college experiments". Fran and her partner were a “couple.” The relationship ended and they each went their separate ways eventually. Fran soon began dating men again. On a recent first time man-date, she was struggling as to whether she should reveal her “lesbian lover episode” to her new potential love interest.
Should she place ALL her baggage out on the table right from the get-go? Or should she just present a smaller version, say more of a carry-on size bag, to this new chap? If she puts it all out there, she risks the chance of scaring him off too early…unnecessarily. Maybe a carry-on is even too much info at this early stage. Maybe just a sleek stylish tote would be more appropriate, i.e. “ I’ve been with a woman.” That seems less daunting maybe. This would either intrigue the fella…or scare him off, if he’s a true conservative. If the latter, Fran probably isn't that interested…given her past and all. Obviously, she is more open minded, and would probably appreciate a man who was a tad more open minded as well.
Last night I was out with a group of women friends and one woman was entertaining us with a new internet dating story (women thrive on this stuff!). Apparently, the dude was yammering on (and on) about everything and asking NO questions of my friend, who was politely trying to listen but in reality making a Christmas shopping list and get-a-way plan during this guy's monologue. The final straw was the point when he told her he was fired for sexual harassment when he was on the police force, but it settled before having to go to trial. Whoa! Did he really just say all that? On a first date? In a coffee shop? I think it was at this point my friend perked up, shook off her daydreaming and knew it was time to call it a night. That is just too much information, a full-sized heavy load of luggage revealed way too early.
When meeting someone for the first time, it’s best to keep it minimal. Give just enough info to keep it interesting, but not so much your date misinterprets the true you- the you you are trying to portray.
During the speed dating event, we have 6 minutes to determine if there is a connection or not. Six minutes to tell our story and gather a bit of our dates’ stories. Six minutes to decide if this is someone we’d like to hear more about and get to know further. And six minutes to reveal our positive attributes and attract the interest of those we are interested in.
With regard to exposing any baggage within this six minute period, a small, coin purse…one with some pretty little beadwork or bling…set out on the table discreetly, would be more than enough for a first meeting to keep it interesting and lively without revealing the entire set of Samsonite.
My friend, however, is a Speed Dating novice. She’s been divorced for just over a year ( one year, four months and four days….give or take). Actually, I may be dragging her to this event against her better judgment. However, she'd been in a relationship with her ex-husband for 20-some odd years. It’s weird out in the dating world these days and practice makes...err...perfect?
In a recent discussion with another friend who is going through a divorce and starting to date again, the topic of how much personal info to divulge on the first date arose. Just how much of your baggage do you share and how early in the game do you share it? It’s a sticky situation. There's not an easy answer. We strive to be honest and upfront, without being overly honest or upfront where it isn’t really warranted.
For example, one woman, I’ll call Fran…just because I’m pretty sure no one who reads this blog knows anyone named Fran, and I am trying to keep Fran’s situation anonymous. Fran was involved with a woman a while back. It was a semi-serious relationship, not one of those "college experiments". Fran and her partner were a “couple.” The relationship ended and they each went their separate ways eventually. Fran soon began dating men again. On a recent first time man-date, she was struggling as to whether she should reveal her “lesbian lover episode” to her new potential love interest.
Should she place ALL her baggage out on the table right from the get-go? Or should she just present a smaller version, say more of a carry-on size bag, to this new chap? If she puts it all out there, she risks the chance of scaring him off too early…unnecessarily. Maybe a carry-on is even too much info at this early stage. Maybe just a sleek stylish tote would be more appropriate, i.e. “ I’ve been with a woman.” That seems less daunting maybe. This would either intrigue the fella…or scare him off, if he’s a true conservative. If the latter, Fran probably isn't that interested…given her past and all. Obviously, she is more open minded, and would probably appreciate a man who was a tad more open minded as well.
Last night I was out with a group of women friends and one woman was entertaining us with a new internet dating story (women thrive on this stuff!). Apparently, the dude was yammering on (and on) about everything and asking NO questions of my friend, who was politely trying to listen but in reality making a Christmas shopping list and get-a-way plan during this guy's monologue. The final straw was the point when he told her he was fired for sexual harassment when he was on the police force, but it settled before having to go to trial. Whoa! Did he really just say all that? On a first date? In a coffee shop? I think it was at this point my friend perked up, shook off her daydreaming and knew it was time to call it a night. That is just too much information, a full-sized heavy load of luggage revealed way too early.
When meeting someone for the first time, it’s best to keep it minimal. Give just enough info to keep it interesting, but not so much your date misinterprets the true you- the you you are trying to portray.
During the speed dating event, we have 6 minutes to determine if there is a connection or not. Six minutes to tell our story and gather a bit of our dates’ stories. Six minutes to decide if this is someone we’d like to hear more about and get to know further. And six minutes to reveal our positive attributes and attract the interest of those we are interested in.
With regard to exposing any baggage within this six minute period, a small, coin purse…one with some pretty little beadwork or bling…set out on the table discreetly, would be more than enough for a first meeting to keep it interesting and lively without revealing the entire set of Samsonite.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
A Discussion With The Dude Upstairs
So I made it through my least favorite month; that grey, wet, windy month of November. A friend pointed out to me that there was, in fact, only one sunny day in November and that day was the Friday after Thanksgiving. I didn't google the weather for the month, but she is probably correct. The month itself actually wasn’t so bad. I was super busy pet sitting, studying, reading, bookclub-ing, yoga-ing, and hanging with friends. Went to a couple of free shows and cheap concerts and basically just enjoyed myself. Almost forgot it was crappy old November there for awhile.
I’ve also, like the majority of the population these days, been job hunting. Not that I've ever stopped the job hunt completely, but I've turned up the volume once again. My current temp job finishes at the end of the year. The law offices of “Bickerstein, Gossipski, and Grumpfeld” are closing their doors for good. Although I’ve actually enjoyed working there for the most part, it is time to move onward, once again, in search of that ‘real live’ employment opportunity (one that comes with health benefits preferably). I’ve had some good leads recently, however, that’s all they’ve amounted to so far. Leads. Nothing has come to fruition as of yet. But I keep looking and keep praying. It goes about like this:
Me: Dear God, please send a perfect-for-me job my way.
God: Sure thing, WW, what is it you want specifically?
Me: Gee God, I don't know exactly, but it should be lucrative and flexible...I'm not really a morning person...
God: Uh Huh, what else?
Me: Ummm...oh I don't know...it should be fun, suit my skills, rewarding.
God: Okay, details?
Me: Oh, I don't know. You must have some thoughts. You know me better than me. Just do whatever you think is best. I'll stand by. Thanks, God!
God: Oiy vey.
In the meantime, while I wait for God to reach into his bag of tricks on my behalf (and somehow I’m pretty sure I’m not first on his agenda), I’m just going to continue what I started in November and enjoy December!
I’ve also, like the majority of the population these days, been job hunting. Not that I've ever stopped the job hunt completely, but I've turned up the volume once again. My current temp job finishes at the end of the year. The law offices of “Bickerstein, Gossipski, and Grumpfeld” are closing their doors for good. Although I’ve actually enjoyed working there for the most part, it is time to move onward, once again, in search of that ‘real live’ employment opportunity (one that comes with health benefits preferably). I’ve had some good leads recently, however, that’s all they’ve amounted to so far. Leads. Nothing has come to fruition as of yet. But I keep looking and keep praying. It goes about like this:
Me: Dear God, please send a perfect-for-me job my way.
God: Sure thing, WW, what is it you want specifically?
Me: Gee God, I don't know exactly, but it should be lucrative and flexible...I'm not really a morning person...
God: Uh Huh, what else?
Me: Ummm...oh I don't know...it should be fun, suit my skills, rewarding.
God: Okay, details?
Me: Oh, I don't know. You must have some thoughts. You know me better than me. Just do whatever you think is best. I'll stand by. Thanks, God!
God: Oiy vey.
In the meantime, while I wait for God to reach into his bag of tricks on my behalf (and somehow I’m pretty sure I’m not first on his agenda), I’m just going to continue what I started in November and enjoy December!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Walk of Shame
We're all familiar with the phrase "the walk of shame," some more than others. You know that walk. The one that happens the morning after a night of whoopee that you weren't quite expecting to be an entire night of whoopee. So then you end up skulking out of Mr. Man's place at 7 a.m. in your yesterday clothes, your bra in your purse and no makeup except maybe some well deserved chapstick, hoping you don't bump into any of his neighbors on the way out to your car--wherever that is at this point. You're not even sure. Did you drive to his place, or did you leave yours on the street near the bar all night? You might still be a little foggy about how all this went down last night. Worst than running into his neighbors is the possibility of running into yours as you pull into your driveway and greet them on their way out to work. Not that they are your parents or anything, but even so, it's just plain embarrassing.
What might be more embarrassing is if you don't have time to go home before work and you show up at the office in, yessiree Bob, yesterday's outfit! This little scenario happened to one of the women in my office...more than once. It's a small office. Unless one of us is hiding at her desk all day, we're going to see each other and probably notice what we are wearing, because we are women, after all.
Let me just clarify, this woman is not a complete tramp, a trollop or tart. She is actually dating someone. She just happens to be really bad at planning ahead. The first time this sort of incident occurred she showed up in the exact same outfit, of course. What was she to do? The second time it happened (today) she stands in front of me saying "does it look like I wore this outfit yesterday?" Now I recalled her wearing a flowy flowery skirt, but that's really all I remembered about her outfit yesterday. I chuckled knowing what she meant and suggested she start buying clothes she could turn inside out. At that point, she turned the hem of her skirt up to show me the side she was wearing yesterday. She had actually worn a skirt she could turn inside out! One of our colleagues suggested she could hoist the waistband of the skirt up over her boobs and wear it like a strapless dress tomorrow should she find herself in the same predicament for a third time.
Another woman advised her to start buying travel clothing that can be tightly rolled up to fit snugly into an evening purse or handbag. No ironing necessary! Or maybe it'd be to her benefit if she worked with women her same size so they could swap clothes once at the office.
I suggested she tell her fella she needs a drawer.
At one point there was a comment about what would happen if I got lucky tonight and had to slink into the office wearing the same outfit. There was a very slight pause before we all agreed I'd be strutting through the office pointing out that I was, in fact, wearing the same outfit as the day before. It's been a looooong time since these shoes have treaded down the path of shame.
And I'm kind of glad my friend at the office has no shame, as her behavior provides so much entertainment for the rest of us walking the straight and narrow.
What might be more embarrassing is if you don't have time to go home before work and you show up at the office in, yessiree Bob, yesterday's outfit! This little scenario happened to one of the women in my office...more than once. It's a small office. Unless one of us is hiding at her desk all day, we're going to see each other and probably notice what we are wearing, because we are women, after all.
Let me just clarify, this woman is not a complete tramp, a trollop or tart. She is actually dating someone. She just happens to be really bad at planning ahead. The first time this sort of incident occurred she showed up in the exact same outfit, of course. What was she to do? The second time it happened (today) she stands in front of me saying "does it look like I wore this outfit yesterday?" Now I recalled her wearing a flowy flowery skirt, but that's really all I remembered about her outfit yesterday. I chuckled knowing what she meant and suggested she start buying clothes she could turn inside out. At that point, she turned the hem of her skirt up to show me the side she was wearing yesterday. She had actually worn a skirt she could turn inside out! One of our colleagues suggested she could hoist the waistband of the skirt up over her boobs and wear it like a strapless dress tomorrow should she find herself in the same predicament for a third time.
Another woman advised her to start buying travel clothing that can be tightly rolled up to fit snugly into an evening purse or handbag. No ironing necessary! Or maybe it'd be to her benefit if she worked with women her same size so they could swap clothes once at the office.
I suggested she tell her fella she needs a drawer.
At one point there was a comment about what would happen if I got lucky tonight and had to slink into the office wearing the same outfit. There was a very slight pause before we all agreed I'd be strutting through the office pointing out that I was, in fact, wearing the same outfit as the day before. It's been a looooong time since these shoes have treaded down the path of shame.
And I'm kind of glad my friend at the office has no shame, as her behavior provides so much entertainment for the rest of us walking the straight and narrow.
Monday, November 2, 2009
A Happy Soul
November 2nd - All Souls' Day. This is a day set aside for remembrance of the beloveds who no longer share our lives with us here on earth. It sounds a little heavy, especially right after All Saints Day and All Hallow's Eve. Busy weekend actually. My parents' ashes are buried up north and visiting the cemetery wasn't possible for me today. But no matter. I still took a few moments out of my day to think of them, as I do most days actually, along with many others in my life who have passed on, including those special furry friends that treated me so well over the years. All Souls' Day really means "ALL" souls.
While that may sound depressing for some, it really isn't. It's actually a really good day to take a good look at your own soul and remind yourself to nurture it regularly. November is my least favorite month of the twelve. Always has been. I'm not sure if it's the weather, the time change (although that extra hour yesterday was rather nice and sorely needed after our All Hallow's Eve celebration), the darkness, the fact that all I really want to do is sleep, but I'm too busy for more sleep, or the weather...ooops, I said that already, didn't I? In any case, I am taking extra care with my soul this month, because I think it's going to need it.
For me that means more yoga sessions (at the studio not just in my livingroom with the noisy neighbors upstairs distracting my Zen mood), more homecooked meals (my crockpot is fired up), more herbal teas, more laughter, watching more movies and, yes, more sleep.
So take a few moments to honor those who've passed on and then, even more importantly, take a few extra moments to honor your own soul and promise to do what keeps it happy in these coming dark and crazy-making months that are sure to be full of challenges, as well as (sometimes hidden) rewards.
I opened the month with my favorite movie of all time, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I just love Holly Golightly's zest for life and adventure, not to mention her flare for fashion. But I can so relate to her lost soul in search of something that is right there in front of her. When "Fred Darling" tells her off and says it doesn't matter where she goes, she'll always keep running into herself, somehow that little speech really hit home for Wander Woman. Aahh.... the messages in these old films are so poignant.
My soul and I are off to bed with a cup of Chamomile, some pleasant reading and early sleeping.
While that may sound depressing for some, it really isn't. It's actually a really good day to take a good look at your own soul and remind yourself to nurture it regularly. November is my least favorite month of the twelve. Always has been. I'm not sure if it's the weather, the time change (although that extra hour yesterday was rather nice and sorely needed after our All Hallow's Eve celebration), the darkness, the fact that all I really want to do is sleep, but I'm too busy for more sleep, or the weather...ooops, I said that already, didn't I? In any case, I am taking extra care with my soul this month, because I think it's going to need it.
For me that means more yoga sessions (at the studio not just in my livingroom with the noisy neighbors upstairs distracting my Zen mood), more homecooked meals (my crockpot is fired up), more herbal teas, more laughter, watching more movies and, yes, more sleep.
So take a few moments to honor those who've passed on and then, even more importantly, take a few extra moments to honor your own soul and promise to do what keeps it happy in these coming dark and crazy-making months that are sure to be full of challenges, as well as (sometimes hidden) rewards.
I opened the month with my favorite movie of all time, Breakfast at Tiffany's. I just love Holly Golightly's zest for life and adventure, not to mention her flare for fashion. But I can so relate to her lost soul in search of something that is right there in front of her. When "Fred Darling" tells her off and says it doesn't matter where she goes, she'll always keep running into herself, somehow that little speech really hit home for Wander Woman. Aahh.... the messages in these old films are so poignant.
My soul and I are off to bed with a cup of Chamomile, some pleasant reading and early sleeping.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Falling for Fall
I’ve been known to fall for a scam, fall head over heals in love (although it’s been a really long time), fall all over someone I’m trying to impress, taken a fall, and I’ve definitely fallen short on more than one occasion. All that falling aside, I truly love fall. Autumn has always been my favorite season. Maybe it’s because I grew up in the northeast where Autumn meant loads of color, fiery oranges, bright reds and sunny yellows. Maybe it was Upstate New York’s crisp and tasty apples (I’m still biased even after 30 years in Washington State). Or maybe it’s that anticipation of starting something new. I loved shopping for new school clothes (what girl doesn’t?) and even buying new notebooks and writing in them for the first time.
I still get that feeling when September rolls around. While others mourn the end of summer, calling it quits after Labor Day, I relish these still sunny days and Harvest Moon nights. I no longer buy new school clothes, but I do enjoy window shopping and observing the local girls to see what fashion trends are hitting our Seattle streets.
It was about the first week in September when I noticed the word of the day on http://www.refdesk.com/ was impuissance, as in "powerlessness revealed by an inability to act (like a deer in the headlights)." I stared at the screen while this word sunk in and even stung a little. "Wander Woman's life was frozen in a state of impuissance, as she was unable to put any of her hair brain ideas into action."
Suddenly in a frenzy of action-taking command, I registered for several classes this fall, ordered a couple of books on how to do something or other and made yet another deal with myself to accomplish something...or other.
Beginning Salsa was one of the classes I started in early September. I've been wanting to take lessons for some time, but scheduling, cost, and committing always seemed to get in the way. This time, I just made it happen. As it turns out, it's really not very expensive at all. Besides being a fun activity, I was hoping I'd tone up the old nagging core and maybe meet some new people. Not that my old people aren't terrific, they are. So I guess I mean men. Yes, meet some new men to dance with me.
I'm only five lessons in and having a good time. It's a lot more complicated than imagined. Not too surprisingly several of the men are a bit awkward, robotic and have two left feet (sorry, fellas!) but the instructor is very patient and hot...er, I mean talented. Maybe it's his talent that is distracting me and I'm the one with the two left feet. I can't keep my eyes off the instructor when I'm suppose to be dancing with my partner, i.e. looking my partner in the eyes so I can follow his lead.
Contrary to what I had imagined, there are more men in the classes than women. That's a switch. Furthermore, there is no particular type noted. There are all ages, sizes, ethnicities - it's really quite refreshing. Of course there are the older, soft shoe wearing fellas that seem to gravitate toward me. Luckily we rotate partners throughout the lesson so we can learn to dance with different people. Good idea.
One of my partners (I'll call Ted) was counting out loud, which is encouraged at this stage, but it went like this as Ted was building up to a cross-body lead, "one, two three, and five, six, seven....it's coming, it's coming...one, two, three, and five, six, seven, it's coming, it's coming, it's coming...." Oh boy, you can imagine what I'm thinking. We are still just dancing, right? Just as a suppressed smile was beginning to spread across my lips, the hot and talented instructor yelled "Rotate partners!" Whew, thank goodness, who knows what was going to happen back there with Ted. I knew Salsa was a spicy dance, but honestly!
In any event, it's fun and funny and a good workout, or at least it will be once I actually learn to dance. And so far, I haven't fallen on my derriere - yet.
Happy Fall!
I still get that feeling when September rolls around. While others mourn the end of summer, calling it quits after Labor Day, I relish these still sunny days and Harvest Moon nights. I no longer buy new school clothes, but I do enjoy window shopping and observing the local girls to see what fashion trends are hitting our Seattle streets.
It was about the first week in September when I noticed the word of the day on http://www.refdesk.com/ was impuissance, as in "powerlessness revealed by an inability to act (like a deer in the headlights)." I stared at the screen while this word sunk in and even stung a little. "Wander Woman's life was frozen in a state of impuissance, as she was unable to put any of her hair brain ideas into action."
Suddenly in a frenzy of action-taking command, I registered for several classes this fall, ordered a couple of books on how to do something or other and made yet another deal with myself to accomplish something...or other.
Beginning Salsa was one of the classes I started in early September. I've been wanting to take lessons for some time, but scheduling, cost, and committing always seemed to get in the way. This time, I just made it happen. As it turns out, it's really not very expensive at all. Besides being a fun activity, I was hoping I'd tone up the old nagging core and maybe meet some new people. Not that my old people aren't terrific, they are. So I guess I mean men. Yes, meet some new men to dance with me.
I'm only five lessons in and having a good time. It's a lot more complicated than imagined. Not too surprisingly several of the men are a bit awkward, robotic and have two left feet (sorry, fellas!) but the instructor is very patient and hot...er, I mean talented. Maybe it's his talent that is distracting me and I'm the one with the two left feet. I can't keep my eyes off the instructor when I'm suppose to be dancing with my partner, i.e. looking my partner in the eyes so I can follow his lead.
Contrary to what I had imagined, there are more men in the classes than women. That's a switch. Furthermore, there is no particular type noted. There are all ages, sizes, ethnicities - it's really quite refreshing. Of course there are the older, soft shoe wearing fellas that seem to gravitate toward me. Luckily we rotate partners throughout the lesson so we can learn to dance with different people. Good idea.
One of my partners (I'll call Ted) was counting out loud, which is encouraged at this stage, but it went like this as Ted was building up to a cross-body lead, "one, two three, and five, six, seven....it's coming, it's coming...one, two, three, and five, six, seven, it's coming, it's coming, it's coming...." Oh boy, you can imagine what I'm thinking. We are still just dancing, right? Just as a suppressed smile was beginning to spread across my lips, the hot and talented instructor yelled "Rotate partners!" Whew, thank goodness, who knows what was going to happen back there with Ted. I knew Salsa was a spicy dance, but honestly!
In any event, it's fun and funny and a good workout, or at least it will be once I actually learn to dance. And so far, I haven't fallen on my derriere - yet.
Happy Fall!
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