2nd Generation Old School

The bass was so loud it made my nose tingle. I felt the deep thumping in my chest and contemplated whether at those decibals the vibrations could shift matter and if so, then why couldn't it fuck up the rythymn of a human heart? I pondered whether loudass Snoopdog ever initiated a heart attack before. Oh well, i consoled myself, at least we'll all go deaf together. It was sexy actually. The leather. The darkness. The intoxication of weed drenched air. More so even when passing cops failed to interrupt tokes, or generate even a passing concern. Maine pimpin in his black satin getup, gold watch, and fedora covered old school curl. Shell with her giant rolling laugh punctuating every statement.

I love them. It's hard to believe how the years have passed. They've come so far. Their babies are bigger than me now! I'll never forget visiting their sardine can of an apartment in Arizona - bodies and kids crashed out everywhere - the couch, the floor: the mighty Maine with babies in each of his arms - rocking one while feeding the other as Shell warmed the next bottle in the kitchen. Winter and i slept on the ground crammed between two beds, next to us his crazy detoxing Mother, next to his kids, next to his kids his siblings: I doing my best to ignore the snarling crazy lookin pitpulls making menacing eyes at me, hungrily clawing the screen door while staring me down.

It wasn't easy for them. It wasn't always cheerful. But they got through it. They're still together and going strong. They work hard. The have a nice home. They did the things. They made their fun along the way. The love their kids and each other. What more could you want?

I see them being together for a long, long time. I see them being old together. I see them spoiling and loving their grandkids. The kinda couple that commands respect. Badass oldschoolers that all the youngsters look up to for wisdom and lean on for direction.

I talked a long while with Shell tonight. About family. About life. About love. She is so incredible. She spoke to straight to my heart. It was a short time, but a gift to spend with her. I hope to get back in time tomorrow night to go out. My departure date is fast approaching.

Anyway, the performance was silly - but fine. It's good practice, it gets me back in the mode. I can't complain.We took a whole roll of film afterwards which made the 3 hours of getting in costume worth it. Even drove a few minutes to the falls for a better background. Kinda forgot that we'd be directly under a view front restaraunt - but we posed and clicked nonetheless, walking barefoot in the snail covered grass, and brushing the rain off our silk costumes. Then we stood in the parking lot, Eimaj an i, again falling back to the topic of joining forces and doing our thing: performing regularly, making our own gigs. Trying to make it at least a part time thing. She says she's not good at self promotion, and i can relate - but i told not her to think of it as ego - think of it as business - market yourself like any other product - be legit - get the website going and flyers- make a business card and pass it out at every performance you do now with links (since you're performing all the time now anyway for the guru) (for free)- place ads in local pulications - encourage word of mouth - offer promotion deals and wheel it in. You gotta put yourself out there to get the ball rolling. Start small, make yourself available, diversify venues, provide literature and it will snowball from there. That's my 2 cents anyway. Not that i know what i'm talking about or anything, but it sounds good, right? Can't hurt! Better than putting years and years into something and getting stuck. Losing money to entertain someone else? Screw that! At very LEAST her expenses should be paid for a performance - . I mean, it's a big production - not just the dance itself but also the 2-3 hours getting in that crazy getup, commuting time, gas, costume cleaning -not to mention the large investment in years of lessons, in purchasing the rights to the music when one song can be over $100, the costume and bells, trips to India, etc. And time. Of course time. Years and years of time. Anyway, that's all worth something, there's nothing wrong with getting paid.

Right?

Second Rate

I am the most sensitive person on earth.
Look at me funny and you might make me cry.
Tickle my fragile ego with a feather and it will burst.
Suggest i am nothing and that's what i become.
Vapid and empty.
Wretched and slight.
A vague mediocre shadow of what could have been.







PATHETIC!!!!!


I'm trying to get ready for my performance but i don't even care about it now, i am depressed. (Yes, a g a i n.) And always. (It seems.) Maybe i was born to be unhappy. Maybe i am doomed. Maybe it is just impossible to exist with paper thin skin. It would be so much simpler to just give up.

HOLY SHIT

Someone found my blog through a search engine with the name of the dance! EEEEEEEEKS!!!! That's bad! That's terrible! What am i going to do?!?!? It was a word that i had spaced out like t h i s, but apparently the spaces were not accounted for when they did the search! WHAT?! Should i go back and erase all dance related words completely, or do i simply erase those posts? And even if i erase all lof those posts, won't they still be in the Big Ominpotent Internet Brain Banks? OH NO!!!!! OH NO!!

And on further panic alerts:
Um. Is there some reason why no one pointed out as i was babbling on about "a whole other day to rehearse" that yesterday was in fact Thursday not WEDNESDAY as i had thought. Yes, TODAY is my performance. Terrific. Just lovely. Here i we go again?! Wah!

Spiritual Eroticism

This dance makes me feel pretty. Feminine. Alluring again. At first it felt silly. Awkward. Like i was pretending to be something i wasn't. The seductive upward and downward glances made me self conscious. The emphasis on the slow torso moves felt naughty - like i was drawing illicit attention to my breasts. The deep outward bending of the knees left me feeling open and exposed. It was like starting all over again - i was an alien and having to reaquaint my body with another language. But my body remembers now. It's channeling an energy that is connected to the ground. It's moving and emoting with a different, more spiritual flow.

Random Act of Kindness

This doesn't happen every day.

I purchased 4 items on the way back to the Guru's house at the grocery store this afternoon: a bag of veggies, a container of pineapple, wheat thins and a pack of gum. I paid and headed for the door when i heard urgently raised voices from behind me - "MISS! MISS!" I did a mental scan: did i forget my purse? No. My bankcard? No. My food? No. Well then, surely they're not talking to me. "MISS! MISS!" I slowed and turned my head. The cashier and her customers were staring at me. What the?

"YOU FORGOT YOUR GUM!"

I almost laughed. Silly people. It's just gum! Relax! It's okay! I'll live! "That's okay," i said, "no big deal." and tried to walk away - but they were so concerned about the welfare of my missing item - they wouldn't let it go! The customer spoke inaudibly to the cashier and then motioned to the gum. She paid for it! The complete and total stranger paid 99 cents for my gum! A total stranger!! For me!! And gave it to me.

Can you believe that?

Can you believe that?!

Isn't that the nicest person ever?

Isn't that cool?!

Astonished, i pulled a dollar out of my pocket and tried to give it to her. She protested profusely. She didn't want it but i insisted. What a humbling moment. There are still nice people. There are people who are good.

Aspirin?

All alone, I'm in the living room sorting her papers and watching awesome footage of world renown dancers from her trips to I n d i a. She won't return from her conference until Saturday and although i'm dissapointed to lose lesson time, i'm glad for the quiet respite. I like people, but i also like to be alone. After a brief visit to the gregarious Miss D on the way back from the airport, i came home and napped hoping to assuage a pounding head. I meant to rehearse today so to avoid a repeat of last Friday's abysmal performance, but somehow i felt too drained. Maybe later tonight i'll run through it on the carpet and there's always tomorrow left as well.

Unexpected Pull

I've discovered how much i miss it here; this place, being on campus, having friends. The dancers and my second family are pleading with me to stay. I'm feeling loved. My Auntie Evelyn may be dying and needs someone to help take care of her. My parents seem to miss me and want me around. But i just moved to NY with The Cutie and am about to make a place there! Oh my.

Maybe that's the advantage of leaving and coming back: for a moment you're treated royally, like a superstar. But i bet when you're back for good the luster fades and you're back to a run-of-the-mill Miss Ordinary. Maybe that goes for my perception of the environment here too. You know how after you've been somewhere for an extended period of time, regardless of it's beauty how you begin to stop seeing it? How it ceases to exist? Like people: how we stop appreciating and noticing each other after constant interaction through time: how we forget to note how much we care. Is it possible to not take each other for granted? Can we stay present and freshly relate after years?

Can i afford this??????????

Costume
Practice Sari(s)
Practice Outif
White Metal Jewlery (Complete Costume Set)
Real Silver Head Ornament
Real Silver Bun Ornament
Bun Crown
Real Silver Rings (6)
Red dye for fingers and feet
B e l l s
Red Polish/Waterproof Foundation/White pencil/jewlery case/safety pins/bobby pins/water bottle/disposable camera

Books:
The GG (a religous text that the dance is based about a love affair between a good and mortal woman)
The NS (the 2000 year old dance treatise)

Music & Videos
3 blank video tapes
5 blank audio tapes
1 blank CD
photocopies of B.N.book

Lessons:
Private (10-12?) and Group (1 mth)

Postcards/Coffee-teas/plants & fountain present for Guru/

Holy shit. What am i doing? Do i need this or not? Is this an opportunity or am i getting carried away? Am i being greedy? Want-y? Or practical with measured consideration. Who knows when/if ever i'll go to I n d i a and be able to get this stuff myself? So, yes it's more expensive to buy from the Guru, but so is an overseas plane ticket to get the stuff on my own and/or shipping.

But will it be a waste? Will i really use it all? Well, i need to ask myself, am i really going to dance? Can i continue on my own? Am i going to peter out? Will i be able to maintain discipline and routines without support? Will these goodies collect dust in a closet or will they put to immediate and regular use?

Will i pursue this dream, or won't i?

I don't want to go home broke. But I don't want to pass up opportunities because of doubt.

Arg!

I absolutely hate to spend money!

Stupid Knees

are still sore after many days. After being exposed to knee horror stories for countless years, this is freaking me out. The discomfort or pain doesn't bother me: the prospect of being unable to dance does! Especially now that i've finally fully committed myself to putting everything into this. Making it a prominent part of my life. I think it's the right time and and i think i can do it. It will take time and hard work and discipline, but i think i can make something of it. So the dilemna is, do i baby something that may be a completely innocuous body groan and miss out on getting the most of my time during this short time with the Guru? Or do i lay off finishing this new (beautiful) dance for fear of a future injury that may or may not exist?

Help me here!

Unabridged

Ever feel like you're somone's scratching post? A swirling q-tip in their ear? Used as an appendage without having agreed to attach? The repetitive torrent of verbal vomit steamrolls over me. It compacts me into clausterphobic bits.

Sad

I just saw him read me and say nothing. Not even a peep. He is mad at me and i feel misunderstood. Its so hard to tolerate these feelings. I feel like being swooped up and carried to a land of blankness and numbing happy-gas air. (Since i try not to use food anymore instead.) Make it go away! i do not like to feel this sad.

My Favorite Word In The World

"Optonline.net"

It means he's near by.

In One Breath

she tells me i was both the choosen one and a failure. She's tell me the performance was acceptable and awful. She tells me i am uniquely talented and have lost my beauty. We plan together for a collective vision, while she mercilessly needles me about my faults. In one breath she tells me i can work hard, do well, probably won't succeed, and could be world-class.

The Guru pats you on the back with one hand while slapping you across the face with the other.

It's crazymaking.

It's who she is.

Like many things, if you want to last, you must simply learn to adapt. To dance under her you must accept her for who she is while simultaneously trying to salvage your tattered feelings and hold-on to any remnants of pride. She has no idea of the wearisome wake of havoc she spreads behind her, leaving heavyhearted students and victims of misinformed dreams. Out of hundreds there are but a handful of us left. To dance under her you must learn to forgive. It is not only an exercise in becoming a dancer, but also a better, stronger more loving person.

Asi Asi

I berated myself horribly. I don't care how beautiful people said it was, i knew the truth. It was horrible. Horrific. Horrendous. Horsepuckey.

Humliating.

But they "loved it" just the same, so what does it matter? Maybe it shouldn't but it does. I was afraid to go "home" for fear of facing the Guru. The shame.

Boy was i in for a surprise.

She grinned and congratulated me. She said the Mr. called from his trip and said to make sure i knew he was proud of me. Apparently she's arranged another performance for this Friday, and she's not worried. It's experience. And i have to get back in the swing of things. Afterall it's been six years. She said in 2 years she thinks i could become world class (if i work hard.) That's quite a vote of confidance which i doubt i'm worthy of. But despite my skepticism i am touched. She/he/this means alot to me. It's an honor being here.

Nostalgia

Well guess what? I'm performing today. Just a tiny podunk venue, but nonetheless it's a fun flash from the past. And my Godaughter is coming with her mother! Yay! Exciting! (They've never seen me dance.) Afterwards we'll browse the Artwalk and hang for a bit. Since it takes between 2 and 3 hours to get in full costume, i've already gotten started. Done the hair and reddened up the nails. Next will come makeup, jewlrey (2 necklaces, arm bands, bracelets, rings, large metallic belt, hair crown, bun knot jewlrey, hair flowers), the 4 piece costume, finger/hand/feet paintings and last but not least, ankle bells! Phew! I've been running around all day gathering supplies: bobby pins, safety pins, rubberbands, hair bun loop, etc.... Ironing the crazy intricate silk pants alone took 15 minutes? Alot of work just for one dance!

City Class

Revisiting Another Life

I surprised Miss D and Winter yesterday. They screamed and yelled and hugged me again and again. My Goddaughter curled herself onto my lap. It's been nice, but also a terribly peculiar adjustment: suddenly introjecting myself into the ghetto past. Weed and bitches. Mother fucking everything and watching your back. I was so at home? Within a day my speaking style and language changes.

More reflections soon - but for now i must nap. Another night of clubbing and then back to 4 hours of dancing in the city class. I'll drive the Mr. to the airport at noon. (!)

Packing Up

The folks have left and i soon will be on my way. It's me and the house and the wind. "Choco" came to say goodbye?

I've seen an eagle, wild bunnies, whales, seagulls, birds, baby jumping salmon, boats, strawberry farms, tulips, cows, school teachers, 1st graders, artist studios, coffee shops, bistros, a local play, a movie "Sahara", ferries, driftwood, rocks, hermit crabs, snow capped mountains, forests, friendly neighbors, the rental house, 1st grade kiddies, a fluffy persian cat, state parks, and last but not least clams. Though i still need to escape.

On her way to work, Mom warmly tore me into jagged guilt-ridden shreds. She packed her lunch and teased "you're making me think you don't like me. You come when i work and leave when i don't."
"What?!" Startled, i exclaimed.
"You know, by way of inference."
She warmly dismissed her "joking" kindly, "no, do what you want," but nonetheless destroyed me. I can't bear the thought of hurting her. She's so selfless and obliging: was that her way of asking me to stay?

She pulls me here while he pushes me away.

Run Away

Tomorrow morning. I will go. I need rest. I need to rest.

Smolder

I feel a rumbling inside
a caustic froth of malcontent
stewing, i ferment
latent squalls
voiceless distress

Dealing with Imperfection

It's better, but still hard. While i'm here i feel intense tension. Nervousness. Discomfort. I don't like to take showers. I cover myself with many layers of baggy clothes. I feel on edge. I brace myself for unexpected explosions. I have strange unpleasant dreams of being mistreated and rudely exposed. I work dilligently to not overeat, but It's hard not to squelch these pervasive creeps.

How do i remedy these feelings in the seeming context of such normalcy? When my Mom and i returned from school, the lovely home was filled with the scent of homemade apple pie and freshly churned(?) pasta. Dad was singing to showtunes and greeted me heartily. I videoed the scene and he clowned and danced for the camera before he goofily addressed D, "HIIIIII DEEEEEEEEE!!! YOU HAVE TO COME VISIIIT USSS SOOONN!!! WE CAN PLAY POOOKERRRR!!!" etc.... Was it him or a twisted circus mirror contortion? What's real and what can i expect?

This afternoon he wants to, "go have some fun" at some touristy neighboring town on the water.... Am i looking forward to it or afraid? Tonight the 3 of us will go to a local play.

Pathetic

Maybe i'm not worthy of being in a relationship. Maybe it's too much to ask someone to put up with me. I need validation. I need strokes. Is there something wrong with me? Am i desparately needy? Or just afraid. Is it based in reality or is it in my head? Every spare minute i check to see if he's emailed me. On baited breath i incessantly refresh. I concoct erroneous stories in my head. If i was him i'd be weary. I need to be needed. I want to feel constantly loved. Why do i feel like i'm operating from some defecit? Never enough? I'm so sorry to be such a pain. Such a mess. Sometimes i feel like i've lost all control and am embarassingly crazy in the head.

Alright Boys and Girls!

Story time! Gather round children!

After i ::cough cough:: "grew up," my Mom decided to go back to work as an elementary school teacher. I've had a hard time picturing this. How does she manage? Do the rugrats run all over her? After more than a decade i finally got to visit her today, and she's good! Really good!! She even has a student teacher and i found out was voted "Teacher of the Year." Wow! My Mom! No way! How cool is that?!

It looks like it takes so much energy. And organization. And practice. There were a thousand little on-going projects around the room and cute little routines and structures. I don't know how she does it. My Dad says she wants me to be a teacher, but i dunno about that. Seems pretty hard for not much money. Although having them at 1st grade (like she does) does seem like a tremendous opportunity to instill some valuable building blocks for life.

....Mom took me around and introduced me to her teacher friends and office staff. It was a bit freaky that they seemed to already know me: my name, where i lived, that i had lived in Hawaii etc.... I guess my Mom talks about me alot. The secretary exclaimed excitedly, "OH YOUR DAUGHTER!!!! SHE REALLY IS REAL!!!!" Geez louise. That made me feel stupid - like such a bad daughter. It was so weird the way she BEAMED when she took me around. I don't know. Does she feel abondoned by me? Does she miss me and feel sad? I'm sorry Mom. I didn't mean to....But i was so angry for so long. So squashed in the presence of my hollering father. So small.

... Ironic how yesterday when he and i discussed my future job prospects over lunch and he said that i DO have skills, but "your problem has always has been your self-image." Well NO SHIT, i thought to myself, i wonder why that is? It was a strange moment. What could i say to him? So, i said nothing and looked deep into my slice of canadian bacon pizza while i uncomfortably smiled.

....Mom's class started a unit today. The kids are supposed to draw themselves ("Flat Lisa" "Flat Aaron") and then send their "flat" selves to someone far away who'll take photos with the little minature me's in various places throughout their day. Then the host person is supposed to send it back to the 1st grader. hmmmmm... Could there be a blog idea here?..... Anyway, Mom asked me to make a sample to show to the class.

This is "Flat Mommy" before .....

Ccan you find "Flat Mommy" after???!...

...More shots of Mom's Class here.

Dad

Gosh, two days in a row of lighthearted good humor! Maybe this retirement thing has done him good? Maybe its simply time smoothing out the edges? Maybe being diagnosed with leukemia forced him to confront his mortality and realign his priorties? I don't know, but whatever it is he's different. Less explosive, fast tempered. I haven't heard him bark once. He cooks for my Mom while she's teaching school. He grocery shops. (And yucks it up like a comedian with the clerks.) He spends hours and hours of his time obsessively researching and planning his European vacations like a travel agent. When he goes he take hundreds and hundreds of photos that he uses for maintaining his treasured VrtlTrst page. In the photos my parents are smiling ear to ear, holding glasses of wine on rustic terraces. Enjoying life. He's reads! Sci-fi is his thing. His latest pride and joy project is his homemade lmnclo: complete with professional looking bottling and printed labels. I don't know what to think.

Today he and i went into the quaint little neighboring town to visit my Aunt's Artists Co-op. He gabbed with a potterer for a good 20 minutes. We walked around aimlessly looking at shops and admiring pretty flowers along the way. I asked tentatively if he minded if i grabbed some coffee and he gushed. "SUREEEEEEE!!! WE HAVE NOTHING BUT TIME!!" And then insisted he pay and we sit down. We'd planned to go to his favorite bistro, but because it was closed we settled on darling gourmet pizzeria (erm, did i just say "darling?" Ew!). We munched and talked. (Mostly about D. - heheh) It was pretty damm close to bonding. At least the closest thing i can remember. He even asked me about the Guru and my dancing. Will wonders ever cease.

Growing up he was always at work. When he was home, he wasn't really home. If he spoke, he snarled. If he talked, he yelled. If he looked at me, he put me down. But mostly he hung with the tv. It was his best friend. I was scared of him and i tried to stay away. I learned to come home from school and go straight to my bedroom to protect myself and that was that. It wasn't pleasant. It wasn't fun. It was uncomfortable and yucky.

I'm glad for my Mom. It must be so much nicer for her now. (If he's always like this.) More than anyone else, i worried about her. She's the nicest, kindest person you could ever hope to meet. Purely kind. And loving. And sweet. Though i can't say i wasn't also angry at her for not protecting us. And why didn't she stand up for herself? Why didn't she speak her mind? I wanted her to be a better role model: to not be run over and put down.

Anyway, this is history that happily i see may be changing. What's important is now. We've all made mistakes. We grow. It takes alot of strength and courage to reshape who we are. I'm proud of him.

Images

Added some old Hawaii photos that were on my parents computer from when they visited me 6 (?) years ago. Also a few fuzzy camera-phone guru shots and a few random (not very interesting) shots from today and yesterday. Why? Just because. I'd add more, but can i just say that dial-up is the work of the devil? I have 8 windows open just so i can be a little more efficient: photobucket, blogs i want to check in with, blogger, my sprint photo site, gmail in case D' writes while i'm sitting here...etc And uploading and posting is laborious.

I sure wish D would leave me comments like before we met. I can't tell you how much i miss hearing from him here.

Visting the Parents

Wow. I just checked my email and found that i'd received so many nice comments from Hannah, Omega and Sunshine! Thanks so much for your thoughts and encouragment. It's funny how you guys know just the right time, and it means alot! I love getting feedback. It makes this blog worthwhile.

Yesterday the manical Mr cursed his way up the freeway driving us to the The Guru's classes in the City. (Despite his incessant complaints of being sick, he didn't want her driving home alone in the dark "because the on-coming traffic blinds her and she panics. She has flashbacks from her accident.") I danced for another 4 hours straight like i did that first day when we went there straight from the airport. Having the live pwj drummer there really helps to keep the momentum up. It's so cute how he speeds up the rythmn and prolongs the exercises to make us sweat, while he watches and giggles! The class keeps going until they can take it no longer or it becomes impossibly fast and they start dropping out and bursting into fits of laughter.

They mainly practiced a couple plvs which i haven't "officially" learned, but have seemed to pick up over year and years of watching them. Surprisingly, i could get through most of it following along in the back. Generally this sort of thing perturbs the Guru because she considers it stealing when she hasn't taught it to you and you didn't pay for the choreography. This is also a reason why she is adamant about keeping tight control over who takes and holds videos of her performances. She doesn't want people taking her dances and not doing them well which reflects poorly on the tradition, her culture, and her guru. A daunting responsibility at times being a caucasion American borrowing someone else's culture. And sometimes confusing. (Is it my right to dance it?) Being outside of the culture, how many years must you dance and study before it becomes yours? Can it ever?

My parents drove a couple hours from their home to pick me up outside of the class. We had a quick lunch at I v a r ' s and then visited my ailing Auntie Evelyn. She sat in her elegant antique filled living room underneath a blanket - her breathing slightly labored, but doing remarkably well. She's a dynamo - a 94 year old firecracker. Her crystal blue eyes full of mischief and life. She was the same Auntie Evelyn as ever and i was extremely happy and relieved. My Dad says it's impossible, but i hope that she'll fully recover.

Driving back to their home, my jovial Dad didn't stop talking! For hours! Even today he's still all animated and gregarious. Sure not the guy i knew growing up. This merry guy is likable! Very! He's fun: like a little kid - enthusiastic and vulnerable. He gushes over his projects, can't wait to show them off and basks in the solicitied compliments. It's so cute but also makes me a little sad. (The vulnerability.) Maybe i can relate. Maybe you don't want to see your parents like children. You'd prefer them to be like gods. Who wants to stroke the ego of you role models afterall? They're supposed to be rock solid, and never fall. The Guru is like this too, despite all of her gushing admirers and acclaim, she is still so very small. She always did lean on me for emotional support which was....weird? Confusing maybe? And occasionally (when i was having rough times and could have used a voice of wisdom or guidance) a little dissapointing. Where was my fearless leader? My support? But that was long ago...

Since this morning Dad's been proudly working on his infamous potato salad. We took a walk on the beach. He watched birds and enthusiastically pointed them out . He turned over a rock and played with a crab. He talked about the tide and different shaped rocks. Now he's fired up the grill and marinating some chicken. Cute. Cute cute cute.

Wish their house wasn't so freezing cold. Just like the Guru's. I've been an icecube all week. And my fingers can barely type.

Ope, Mom just got home from work! Gonna go say hi!

And with no further ado, I leave you with Mr. Crab. (Who hails from the beach.)

Heavy-Jeavies

I don't know how to explain it, and don't know why i feel a need to try, but....

When i lived with my parents so long ago i used to get this feeling. This weird, undefinable feeling. It was an icky feeling. Hard to place, but somewhere in my chest? In my stomach? Highly uncomfortable. A heevie-jeevie, ew, ick, yuck kind of feeling. And then as soon this "sensation" would invade me, i'd have an uncontrollable, ravenous need to binge. I never told anyone about it. I thought i must be crazy. But it always really bothered me because of the inexplicable nature and raging intensity. It overpowered me.

Anyway, i found over the holidays while visiting my parents house (after at least a decade of not visiting them,) that the feeling was still there, and it scared me. I've also felt twinges of it here at the Guru's, and i don't like it. At all. It makes me ill at ease and creeped out. It makes me want to run away and find my own little private shelter or bury myself in sand. What is it about? It really bothers me.

At least i can say i haven't binged, although i do find myself looking for opportunities to sneakily buy food and hold on to it: just in case. And last night when i went to the store to pick up shrimp for The Guru's dinner, i puposely bought food i could eat in the car ride back: the evidence which i could dispose of when i returned. Well, i guess that's not so great, but i've been far from completely losing it.

Follow the Money!

They want me to work at M i c r o s o f t. They've decided its okay to have money. And lots of it. Apparently they want me to get some. This is crazy-talk coming from political activist radicals. Half the trip back today was devoted to counsel and loving advice as to how to get it. They're sick of being poor. She's a professor but works her fingers to bone, "What do you get from working your fingers to the bone? Boney fingers." They want something better for me. (*awwwww*) Wish they had told me this a decade ago! Now I've got alotta catchin up to do! But they say in 15 years of plugging away, you can retire. Sweet! I tell you, after working 80+ hour weeks with nothing to show for it, the corporate machine is looking mighty finer and finer. Perhaps there's something to be said for D's philosophy, "You go to work, put in your 8 hours and come home and have your life. It's only a job." Far different than my once idealistic hippie inclinations, but like we discussed, b i g b u i s n e s s is preferrable to being broke and totally disenchanted. Yeah - heard that! Cuz i've been walking that pot-holed road a while and don't like it. Wouldn't wanna walk right off it into Dark Side, if you know what i mean. Having 2 people in my life that care about me enough to lecture me about these things is special. And i am really, REALLY lucky.

I love those crazy crazy crazymakin peoples.

Eye

Ever notice that i rarely capitalize "i"? I know i know i know! But it's on purpose! Just curious, does it irritate you?

Wha? Huh? What time is it?

So, what's up with Hannah's blog? It seems to have dissappeared? Maybe she was in a mood and chucked it all in? She has seemed a bit perturbed lately. And for that matter, whatever happened to Luke? He was such a nice guy - so kind and supportive.

It's 5am and i've been up for over an hour. I guess i was too disgusted to properly go to bed as i woke up in all my clothes/contacts/unbrushed teeth on the bed with the light on. Ooops. Hawaii flashback! Gratefully, haven't done that too much since the D-man set me straight. I wouldn't mind brushing them now, but i'm afraid i'll wake the household - so i guess slime-mouth-i-beez. Nice. I wonder if they noticed my light and will now insist that i not drive tomorrow "because you'll fall asleep." Let me make up my own damm mind will ya? Sheesh louise! The Mr drove us yesterday since they thought i couldn't. I haaate that! GARRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Hmmmm, i started writing because i thought i had something to say. Guess not. Or maybe i just forgot the fabulous, inspired, terribly fascinating thing it was i was going to say. Ah well, either way, I'll save you further grief then and sign off.

FALSE ALARM

Go back to sleep, (like i should.)

Fuck-Up

Ever feel like you can't do anything right?
I work on organizing the office, but i leave the storage room unlocked which holds valuable silks and artifacts (unknown to me until the lengthly lecture), i wash the dishes but load them wrong, (pots are misplaced, glasses are missing the 1 inch space perimeter, large utensils are to be on the bottom, ETC), i sweep the studio for The Guru and her student while they're stretching before the lesson and am scolded "i don't think that's very respectful" by the student when i pause with a pile of dirt a few feet in front of the god sculpture, (i apologized and said i didn't know), i fetch the tapes and sit down at the workshop but its in the wrong place and am sternly corrected, ETC ... My dance looks as shitty as two days ago: my positionings, torso extension, eye work and m u d r a s are inadequate and G u r u j i is obviously unimpressed. I am unimpressed with myself too but also weary of the derisive 30 minute "pep talks". I'm not going to be sheepish anymore! I'm done with being demeaned! Coy and demure were like, so yesterday, not today. Supposedly if i "hadn't left and had stayed like Emiaj i would be dancing mainstage all over the world by now - London, Paris, India." Yeah yeah yeah, blah blah blah... So basically what i'm saying is I SUCK and i would like very much to simply dissapear.

Blessing of the Bells Ritual

Just got back.. Sooooo tired. The workshop/ceremony was a fabulous event. 25 eeensy tiny little ones in cute little matching idn outfits' chittering and chatterting and following along: making animal faces and learning c h k a. Then a traditional ceremony and blessing of the bells: oil lamps, powder throwing, incense and chanting and my favorite: yummy dessert! Then extra yummy yummy lunch (8-10 indian dishes?) for the honored guest (The Guru.) I played lackeye companion who fetched and served. No big deal. It honors her and is what she wants. The group looked at me with curiousity, "What's up with the white girl in the corner carrying the Guru's stuff?"

Anyway, would like to add more details, but too too tired..

Must nap now before Miss Canada arrives.

Rehearsal

Eimaj picked me up and we rehearsed for a couple hours. I'm relieved to find that my body feels better today. Much less stiff and old. (yay) I didn't dance hard though because i was mostly trying to observe and pick up the many steps that are fuzzy or incompleted. I'd dance, stop, watch her feet while moving my arms... But i'm starting to feel the dance in my body again: that old feeling of wanting to move when i am still. When we raced like fucking maniacs drove to the University i instinctively found myself rolling my torso with eyes and chin movements in the backseat. It was once so natural: a part of me and everything i did. When i stood in a grocery line, i'd subtley balanced on one foot in t r b n g i

and brushed my teeth in c h k a.

It's cool.
I like it.
I miss it and it feels good.

The Guru invited to join a couple performances while i'm here! I'm not ready yet, but i wouldn't mind working and seeing what i can do. It would be a kick to get into costume again. We'd have to make a decision soon re: which dances we'd perform and then i'd have to focus. But again, time is limited, so what is best? Work on a new dance? Technique? Reconstructing an old? Or working on this performance? I dunno.

Well shiznit... Never got to speak with D today and he must be asleep. At least he sent me a quick email. That made me happy.

I suppose i ought turn in since we've gotta be up early.

Also tomorrow a student from Canada will be here working on her upcoming R n P r v s. I'd love to fly back for the occasion (and take a few more lessons?) A R n g r v s is a super big deal for an aspiring d a n c e r. It's 2 hour solo that marks a dancer's official debut.

My Dirty Little Secret

Since the answers to RP's questions and my post regarding c l s ic l i d i n d n c , i've gotten some referrals from google and msn browsers that make me nervous. If anyone with connection to my da n c e found what i'm writing, i'd be mortified. TOAST... I don't want to betray the Guru's confidance and i've tried to not reveal too much or describe her in an unflattering light. But people are people. We're all falliable and subject to quirks and imperfections. She and The Mr included. I want to be honest about my experience, but fair. But most importantly, anonymous! So please don't tell her you found me!!! I'll never admit it! You'll never get me to talk!

Freakin Scary

We left for the University at 9am. Apparently they realized half way there that "we would never make it in time," and so The Mr sped up to a hysterical 90mph. And then it started to rain. He weaved in and out of traffic: swearing at the truckers in his creepy controlled irate voice and having nasty one-way "conversations" with innocuous vehicles in his way; convinced the entire road was conspiring against us. After a devious quip about, "She is speeding up so i can't pass her. I don't have time to play games. I have somewhere to be. If she wants to play games then she can go to the bathroom and play with herself." (WTF?!?!?!?) The Guru finally chimed in, "Calm down," and then proceeded to needle him about making her late, (stopping for coffee, and piddling around.) I tightened my seatbelt and prepared myself for the inevitable rolling of the car. I wondered if my computer would survive the crash. I hoped D would get it along with my things in Hawaii: the 4 track recorder, my journals. I wouldn't want them to go to anyone else. Goodlord was i relieved when my feet finally touched the ground. In a panic, the Guru and i jumped out of the car to greet the coordinator who was standing outside the U waiting for us and bolted inside to the lecture hall. It was 12:oo, a half an hour late, but 5 minutes before she was scheduled to speak. She was frazzled but pulled it off like a charm.
Tomorrow we're "supposed" to leave at 630am. Oh my.

::breathe:::

I'm bummed and tired. My back hurts. Given, my time crunch, in a way today felt like kind of a waste. I just spent 3 hours talking with Eimaj instead of rehearsing the way we'd planned. We sat on the hard wood floor and gabbed. Maybe i was avoiding attempting to move my stiff body, (and delicately no less) but there's just so much to catch up on and i need to know the full picture to make good, sound decisions about the future. The scene here is clearly as equally dysfunctional as ever. Some things she told me made me drop my jaw! I was in disbelief. The insanity. The irrational behavior. The insensitivity and apparent obliviousness to the effects. Its so sad and such a waste. Such a terrible waste!

Before that "rehearsal" i hung out in The Guru's office - first stacking and organizing her books until i became distracted by this and had to start reading it. Its strange. She was a friend of the Guru's. The Guru gave guest workshops at her village. Her U.S. tour was the first time i'd ever seen (or heard) of the artform and hooked me for life. And now here she is - on the cover of this book: all about her life. Wow. I knew she was known, but i had no idea how big of star she was! It's so strange how far removed we are here (in the U.S.) from the importance of this dance: and the notoriety of the people The Guru knows. So weird.

Surreal!

Tomorrow morning i'll drive her to her workshop.

nite'

::sniff::

When i was a kid i never felt "homesick," I thought kids who missed their mommies were weird. High-school graduation brought school-mates to tears, while i bewilderly observed. Friends or loved ones continued to move on or away through the years, and i've shrugged and carried on.

But, I can't recall ever a time where i've missed some as much as D right now. When i think of him i'm moved to tears.

Lesson #2

"Get your foot into position! Look at you're foot!"
And so i corrected my foot.
"Ok do it again."
And i did it again.
"Torso! Torso! Where is the torso?!"
I stopped and stood upright, feet together and rolled my torso, to the side - up - around - down.
"Breathe in. Good. Now do it again."
Focusing hard on stretching my toe far behind my other foot while softly rolling the torso i took 3 steps -
"EYES! YOU HAVE NO EYES!"
I knooow i knooow, i thought, I'm gettin to it! I was thinking about my feet!..
"Oops," i smiled sheepishly, sheesh!
"Again!"
Slap, toe, slap, toe, slap toe. I looked slowly side to side and added chin. She hasn't stopped me, am i doing it right? slap, toe arouuund, foot back, eyes, torso, is this okay?
"Was that better?"
"Better. But it's h. not this." And she touched her thumb to her pointer finger out and stretched her wrist above her head.
"Farther above your head!"
Can i really do this?
"Again!!"

OW!!

The paaaaaain!!!! The paaaainnnn!!!
Ohhh myyyy aching baaaack!!!!
Ohhhhh my aching quads!
Ohhhh my aching..... everything!!

Its quite the stunt: attempting to go from utterly sedentary to 4+ hours of dancing a day! My body knows better -and its pissed off! Eimaj just dropped me off back home to The Guru's after i stayed (and danced) through her class (after the Guru's). It's so cool to come home to a house filled with the scrumptious earthy smells of delicious indian cooking. How lucky am i?!?! After dinner i've been helping out: ironing sari's and salwar chemise's, but tonight i just can't do it. I just ate and came straight upstairs. Checked my email (still none - ::sniff, sniff::: D?), will shower and hit the hay. (How rude! Right?!) I know, but I'm thinking i better take it easy while i "ease" in to this routine... HA!

Thankfully, i did feel a bit of improvement today though... My body is a tiny bit smoother... My torso movements a tiny bit looser... My foot slaps a tiny bit cleaner...... The old dances are coming back to me.... And thank god(dess) they do seem to be stored in my body.... The music comes on and it kinda knows where to move... (Allbeit choppily, but it moves!).....

Shower time....

D????

::sniff::

Long Lost 2nd Family

Thinking about Miss Dixie. Its so strange to be in this town and not to have seen her. Usually that's the first (and sometimes only) place i'll go. How is she feeling? How is her health? How is Jerry? I did see Summer and Shelly (Miss Dixies kids) over my winter visit long enough to drop off presents for their army of rugrats that are now quite humongous. Hard to believe i held the baby twins in Arizona and drove my Godaughter home from the hospital when she was born. I miss them but know it was best that i left. It's a dangerous drug-filled life they exist in. The violence just became too much. Life was still valuable enough to wanna stick around for a while. And then there was Howard. Clearly the main reason i left. Maybe that's why i'm less anxious to see everyone - the strong mental residue will come back. I don't think i want see him, afraid of what he'll say, afraid of what he'll do. Mostly afraid of that dark life-sucking abyss, where he yanked me around like twisted puppeteer, and reeled me in and out like a lifeless fish. Though i suspect by now i may be far less affected by his Pied Piper antics. I am afterall in a far different place.

The Guru just yelled up to me.. We're off to school in 10 minutes!

Bye!

Hermit Collides

Morning time. Showered and checked my email. (None! ::sniff::) I feel weird about going downstairs. I dunno know, like i'm disturbing their private space. Plus i'm so inherently shy and anti-social. Regardless of how ideal condititions are, i still have a large measure of discomfort just being in someone else's space. It requires so much energy to maintain appropriately friendly appearances. Know what i mean? Makes me antsy.

My First Lesson

Just came back from my first private lesson. The studio was icey cold and the tile floor stung my bare feet. She showed me the first three steps and we worked through them slowly. Correcting and recorrecting until exact. I don't know how we'll possibly complete this 8 minute dance in only 1 month at such a rate. I'll really need to get it together, and not mess around with basic errors on foot positioning or turns or incorrect gestures. It would easy to be discouraged, and between that and thinking of D i am in a somber mood. But i will persist. Even if we go incredibly slow, its a good feeling to know that she will insist on exactness and accuracy. At this point, i have much confidance in her investment in my dnce. She will not allow me to slide, or for things to not look right. This is far preferrable to sloppily gobbling up new dances that aren't correct. And i am grateful for her help.

Well, i hear the sounds of cooking downstairs. I will go see if she'll allow me to assist. The Mr is watching TV and drinking the Starbucks mocha i brought him from the store.

Back From Campus

She met with a student while i sat and munched on the homemade chicken sandwich she'd prepared last night. When he came i began to exit, but she said its okay and stay. After another excessively enthusastic intro, he seemed interested to meet me and curiously asked some questions. They discussed his project's progress and she told stories about her life. He took notes as she told him to be careful of his liability and warned him of the dangers of being sued. She advised to create releases and copyright his material. "You may be a student now, but what happens 4-6 years from now you when you are are a professional and might want to use it again?"

When he left, we spoke a bit about her exhaustion. About her dreams. We brainstormed about possibilites. The need to organize and make the dnc a business so she could spend a quarter less teaching and devoted to what she lvs. She'd like to create an Ashr am - which is what we've always needed. She wants to tour, bring back her dncrs and pay them. Then she gave me a suggestion. Go to school for Business Management, and "then you can do it for me, because we don't know how."

It was the most direct solicitation of assistance i have ever heard from her. It's strange now chatting with her like i'm an adult. Like i actually do have something of realistic value to offer. And i do, but how? Could i build a life around such instability? Could D?

I bought him postcards at the college bookstore. I'll try to send one every day. Oh, its time we leave for her rental home's dance studio to give a private lesson. I'm looking forward to seeing that house. I lived there in the A-Frame in the back before i moved escaped here and Howard.

The One He Calls His Lover

It was this day he lost her, and perhaps a little of himself. I never met her, but i greet her everyday. I look deep into her eyes and concentrate on her: her hair, her smile, her face. I feel her all around us, everytime he and i speak. I cry for her when we're sleeping, and wish i could bring him even a little bit of peace.

Ordinary

I think i used to attract people by way of mystery. The less revealed, the further they were compelled. They needed to figure me out? Maybe i bought into my own seduction? Mistook cryptic for distinct? Now i often read what i write here and am taken by being truly average. It's not easy for me to accept.

Day 2

Where to start? There's so much i want to get down and remember. And now it is 3:30am my time, my body is crippled and desparately crys for rest. But my mind has been waiting all day to blog.

Since i first opened my eyes this morning to now i've been completely absorbed in dance. As usual, The Guru races about at breakneck speeds attending to the many facets of her over-extended life. She is exhausted. Teaching, dance classes, private lessons, correspondance, planning, performances, book writing, research, cooking - the commitments are unending.

When i woke up that i may have been too late and hurried downstairs to find whether i missd her. But no sooner did i descend the stairs did she whiz by me in her faded pastel robe, frantically moving about. She greeted me as she rapidly picked things up and put them back down around the living room overflowing with stacks of papers, books, video equipment, photographs, newspapers clippings and costumes. "Oh i'm glad i didn't miss you!" And she assured me that she wouldn't have left me behind. She was scrambling to find photographs of her younger years, she explained - for an interview this week that will cover the progression of her work "She wants the photos today! ..Well, " she conceded, "she'll just have to wait!" And then she moved on to the kitchen to make some tea, "this is where the honey is. And here is the milk. In the mornings, help yourself. " And she pointed to where things were. "I'll keep showing you as we go."

And she asked the Mr as he appeared. "What do you want for breakfast! Eggs?! Toast?!"

"OK"

"Indigo?!"

"Ahhhh, sure!"

"There's no butter! You'll have to have jam!"

And they argued for a moment about the true status of the butter as she hurriedly finished cooking, handed us our plates."I'm off to the bank. Indigo be ready when i come back!"

"Great!"

So, i ran upstairs and made some (now missing) posts. (Can i just say how cool it is too steal wireless internet from the "Young's Home" i think next door?) When she returned she handed me the keys, (she doesn't like to drive) and i gladly obliged and we headed off for campus. Its been so, so long since i've hung out at my alma matter. When we arrived, i felt at once like i was finally home. By comparison, 6 years of living in Hawaii and i still felt alien. Grammar school was awkward. Highschool i was a freak. New York? It's a little too soon to tell.

Hands full with dance music cassettes, a boombox and a dozen O ds i Pthfdr books, we bee-lined for her office where she set me up to hang while she lectured in her academic program. She moves pretty fast for someone 6 decades old. To keep up i have to almost skip.

Her office looked great. It used to more closely resemble the current state of her living room: packed full with tapes and papers and books and - boxes to the sky. But i guess the college gave her two added rooms where's she expanded to store her some of her things. She said it was their bargaining chip to keep her in the building. (She's not afraid to boast.) This allowed her to clear out the center of the large room where now she's able to use "a $750 dollar rolling mirror they bought" her to rehearse between class. It's nice. And it adds flexibility in case the building's other studio rehearsal spaces are all filled up.

Anyway, she pulled a few choice performace videos for my viewing of various gurus and dncrs. from a bookcase. I was amused to see the same yellow post-its with my very own handwriting from so many years ago intact. I'd used them to label start labeling areas around the shelves to develop some sort of sense and order to things. (Before i left i'd begun to spend much time there late at night: organizing and sorting. I loved the unlimited access to the deep vault of learning and she appreciated the help.) By that point, i was so poor, she gifted me with lessons in exchange. This was a special thing, reflective of our special emerging relationship. More and more, we were resembling the indian gurukul tradition, until i became too hurt and frightened and impulsively severed it by moving to Hawaii. And what i mean by sever, is that The Guru and The Mr were furious. Furious with me for leaving. I was disowned. Once again a dancer left her and they bemoaned their fate. It's heartwrenching to see that even now, 14 years since i first met her, that this pattern persists, and they perpetuate the pain.

In a few hours she wrapped up her academic class, and then fetched me to join her in the dance class. Heads turned and became silent when we walked in. She glowingly introduced me and they gasped when she said i was their (other) teacher's first teacher. (Eimaj now teaches the begining class.) I love-hate that. She's notorious for building you up while tearing you down. I shrunk and looked away in the face of the piled up expectations. "But i haven't danced in years!" i pled. I smiled and they stared.

"Go ahead! Warm up Indigo!"

Oh lord, now i have to dance?

I stood in the back for the exercises and tried to echoe their steps. I watched their movements and they curiously glanced in the mirror at me. A couple students were amazing and i was terribly impressed. Watching them was extremely helpful, their torso movements and hand position were beautiful! The Guru says her style has been evolving, and it shows. It seems certain steps are more articulated, and more clearly expressed. Whereas previously we learned most usually through simply observing and copying. Those who needed extra feedback or deconstructing quickly fell behind or petered out.

After the Guru's class, Eimaj started her beginning class which i also joined in. (She'd invited me when i saw her yesterday during the 3 hour City class and offered to drive me home.) ....Again, a dramatic introduction, again their wide-eyes dissolved me. Eimaj lectured the first hour about the history and culture of the d ance. She was terrific! Knowlegable, articulate, friendly and organized. She fielded all their questions like a pro! Those kids (did i just say kids?) are lucky to have her, to start with her and get that foundation. I wish i'd had someone to interpret things for me when i began. The Guru undoubtedly is a scholar, but in lectures she skips around. Because of her intimidating presence, few people ask questions to fill in the blanks. And when on occasion there is that brazen student willing to dig in, i've seen some very bad, baaad things happen to them.

Afterwards, Eimaj and i chatted excitedly and made some plans. She's happy to have someone to practice with for a while since recently the last of the in-town dncrs have left or stopped. There are a a few strong core dncrs, but they're as far as 6 hours away. It's pretty much down to Eimaj, and she is sad. We brainstormed quickly since she had to go to work.... But both of us have shared a desire to make the dnce thing work - self-supporting, organized, regular.... Well-paid and consistant performances, committed and high-caliber dancing, a structured and well-promoted company. Creative perrogative in addition to traditional pieces. Symbiotic relationship between guru and students. Like Rdha and Krhna, (god and humanity) one can't exist without the other. The need each other. The feed each other. Like audience and performer.

Holy fuck. Its 6am... Gosh darn it....

Anyway, when Eimaj dropped me off at 830pm, The Guru happened to walk out to the driveway looking for her purse. The night air was filled with the smell of good cooking. That Guru CAN COOK! In one of my missing posts, i wrote at length about her tremendous talents in the kitchen. She cooks for hours every night. After the 5 dish Indian meal tonight, she spend ANOTHER hour hand grinding her spices and preparing a Raita for tomorrow. She is truly unreal. Apparently a visiting celebrity once offered her a position as his personal chef. She declined the kind offer and decided to stick with the Professor/Guru gig i guess - but she is that good. A media faculty on campus wants to make series of cooking videos with her and other's have pleaded with her to publish a book. (cookbook.) ...So, i plan on taking full advantage of my house guest priviledges and EAT IT UP while i'm here. Also, i plan to observe and even video her myself as much as possible.

Speaking of videoing her, while we were in her office today during her break between classes, i so wished i had set up my camera and let it roll she was talking. She spoke of all things odisi - giving fascinating anecdotes about the greatest dancrs of all time and dynamically punctuated her stories and descriptions and with explantation with demonstrations of the dance. It felt somehow important, and i focused as hard as i could to try to commit the nuances to memory. But, realistically, that's impossible. I wish it had been on tape. Or that i was making a documentary or something.

So, tomorrow i'll start my private lessons! I thought she wanted to wait, but she says she thinks i can do it. She wants to begin a dnc. I should be interesting considering i can barely walk.
I also found out today that this week we'll travel to neighbor state for a University lecture, give a workshop at ??i don't know where?, and... who knows what else...

Information is always circular with her. She circles around and adds information on each loop - like a spring or slinky. She used to say in her college lectures that that was an I ndian thing - reflective of a very different cultural relationship with time. "Relax and just listen," she used to say, "don't worry about taking notes." And through the years i've come to realize what she means. It's true, no need to worry, whatever it is, she'll inevitably get back to it again. And again. And again. And each time my understanding deepens and i can add pieces to my existing patchwork puzzle.

Dang, how'd it get so late......

I wonder what i just said? Just blabbing without order...... blah blah blah... stay tuned...

Goodnight...

MADE IT!

I'm in bed.
Exhausted.
My poor aching sleep deprived body just wants sleep. Oh yeah and a full body massage wouldn't suck.
The Guru picked me up as planned at 2pm and then we went straight to her class in the city. There were alot of students! A few that i go way back with, but most i didn't know. But i sure enjoyed the live drummer. Very cool. Brings a great energy to the experience. The Guru suggested i join right in, which i did, and my body now hates me for. It wasn't smooth sailing, and i felt stiff, and i've forgotten LOTS,

B U T

i showed up
i tried
and i didn't give up.

Far from fabulous, but, its a start. I have 29 days to go!


The Guru is happy to see me. She's glad i came. She didn't stop talking since the time i hoisted my broken luggage in her trunk. She hooked up the 6 course Indian food meal, (YUMMMM) and loves the mugs. She thinks "they're beautiful."

I'm sorry i was such a pain in the ass earlier today. I think its gotta be fatigue. Off and on today it feels like the floor is moving. I don't bother asking if we're having an earthquake because i notice no one else is freaking out. So i roll with it and kinda enjoy it. Non-alcoholic tipsy.

Bedtime now. Gotta get up early for her morning college class. Every day's gonna be an adventure.

Goodnight!

Goodnight D! I love you!

Disgusted Without Reason

Well, i'm sitting at the final destination airport waiting to be picked up and feeling sad. So sad. Just called D, but we barely spoke which made me feel worse actually. I feel alone. Okay, maybe i shouldn't blog now since typing this makes me feel like i might start to cry. God knows, i've cried enough these past 3 days because I couldn't stand the thought of not being near him. And now, on the phone when he feels so far away - I'm lost. So far away.

My level of irritability on the way here has been alarming me. Did you see that last post? Jeez! I hope its not some sign that my inner grump is emerging into full form. I refuse to be a crotchity shit-head. Life is too short to waste bemoaning on the stupid small stuff. How dare i stoop to such small-mindedness? What is wrong with me? WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Maybe i'm being hard on myself. Maybe its just fatigue affecting my spirits and maybe is a normal reaction to having multiple foiled plans. Let me review what i have been mentally whining about since i waking up and see:


1. I stupidly ate the leftover Thai food when a) i wasn't hungry b) i thought it was likely to get food poisoning and c) it didn't taste very good in the first place d) i'd have plenty of access to food other places
Why then did i eat, you ask? Very good question. Compulsion? Guilt for having bought it in the first place? Guild about wasting it? To alleviate nervousness about being alive? I don't fucking know.
2. I missed my 6:30am shuttle from the hotel to the airport because i left 1 minute late
3. I was freaking tired because i stayed up until 3 eating and blogging for no reason (to alleviate loneliness? )
4. I walked into the lobby and discovered a lovely full (and complimentary) buffet with fresh fruit, yogurt, juices and cereal that i couldn't have partaken had i not just felt the need to stuff my face with bacteria-ridden soggy vegetable noodles
5. The 7am shuttle came and was immediately filled 2 adults and clamoring scoundrel children
6. The next shuttle came and filled with 10 clamoring yappy adults
7. The yappy adults were whining and making a stink because they “had a flight to catch” and demanded to the hotel man that they have a shuttle “IMMEDIATELY”. (Though their flight was a full hour after mine and i'd been waiting too.) I tried to ignore them.
8. After getting to the airport, i required special assistance since my e-ticket didn't show my ticket. Then i got back in line by the front entrance. The line snaked up an down, up and down the entire length of the check-in area in the longest security line i have ever in my lifetime experience. (But it went fast which was good)
9. I arrived at the gate as they were boarding (that was good too but since i was feeling foul i took it as ALMOST BAD)
10. My next door seatmate was a screaming 1 year child.
Did i say SCREA M I N G?!
11. I thought for sure we were going to die when the plane took off. I didn’t know it was possible to have turbulence while still over the runway, but apparently you can. Our plane was so severely jostled about on the take-off, it seemed we might just bounce right back on the ground. Good lord. I spent the next couple hours trying to calm down from the terror. I think i swalled my stomach.
12. After that i was forced to decid against my wishes that i ... may not like flying... i never wanted to say that..It seems so final and pessimisstic. Its gives me more ammunition to believe i’m getting old and stodgy and afraid.... Then, while sitting in my clausterphobic airplane chair, i began to brainstorm how and when i may have lost my faith which of course further depressed myself
13. Strangely, I couldn’t sleep on the plane (i can sleep anywhere anyplace anytime!!! what the hell?! my greatest gift failed me!?!?)
14. At baggage claim, i discovered my nifty Hawaii suitcase was broken... The huge dent in the side didn't bother me so much, but since the handle won’t come out i can’t wheel it around... not such a big deal... so this almost didn’t make the list, but i thought it was in the spirit so there ya go...
15. Now i’m here sitting in baggage claim waiting for the Guru to call and tell me if she’ll be picking me up. Again, not such a big deal, but it sounded dramatic so i though i should include it. I actually rather enjoy this time to write and attempt to regroup.. ... (I gotta shake this off!!!) I wonder how many hours i’ve been here though?
16. The Guru is on her way and i am to stand outside in one hour and look for her. The Mr. (who was supposed to be leaving the state today to visit his ailing mother) has the flu and won’t be going. This is a problem. He is difficult. Very difficult. I will elaborate later, but this is not good news. And he’s sick. So, really not good news. Oh my.
17. I am so cold its getting hard to type
18. I wanna go home


If you can’t bitch on a blog, then where can you? Honestly i wouldn’t ever in a thousand years say this stuff to anyone i know. I don’t want to be perceived as a whiny jerk. I don’t wanna be a pain in the ass, i swear. I know i shouldn’t be and so i’m not. But, its not because i don’t feel it inside sometimes. So, this is where i will spew, and if its too tiresome to read, i feel assured that you will skip it. Phooey.

Hmmmm.. Do i feel better?

Maybe its a relief of some sorts... A release from under the weight of disgust. Its heavy load compacts me.

Shit.

15 minutes until she’s supposed to arrive.

Here we go.

What is going to happen?

God, I’m so nervous.

I’m so crazy crazy nervous!


Okay let me try to flip the switch. On the BRIGHT SIDE.

1. I stole a pair of United Airlines headphones! Thanks again for that voucher douchbags!
2. I finally got it together enough at the end of the flight to be a little friendly with cute little family next door. I smiled and help the 1 year repetitively pull out the air phone enough and slam me in the knee. They were nice people. He seemed like a sweet Dad and had a kind eyes and a interesting irish accent. She wore cute pants and moved out of the way when i needed to pee. Thanks cute couple. I appreciate that. I particularly appreciate that you kept your kid busy running up and down the aisle and thus prevented further episodes of screaming. That must have taken alot of work. Good effort. Also, thanks for reminding me why never to have kids. (Got that D?)
3. My video camera appears to still be broken. I thought for sure after making a last minute on the spot decision to check that bag i was doomed. I fretted and fretted all the way.
4. 2 little dollars got me this nifty little luggage cart that i can wheel my shiat around. The wheels are big and it moves real good with minimal effort. weeeee.
5. I wheeled around and around the baggage carriages until i found my own little bench next to plug where i plugged in my cell phone, this here laptop and charged up my camcorder
6. I’m stealing electricity from The Man which makes me happy. Particularly because the mans has close ties to United Airlines. That makes me happy. Very very happy.
7. D is probably just tired and in pain. He actually probably still likes me. I guess. Maybe he just doesn’t like talking on the phone.
8. I get to write my woes away with this post.
9. I resisted buying a Starbucks which demonstrated great frugality.
10. I’ve only spent 2 dollars today (on the cart. but i sorta needed that so that doesn’t really count does it?)
11. I don’t know for sure but i don’t think the coffee mugs broke
12. Since the Mr. is here, i’ll be able to give it to him today. That will make him happy
13. Only 4 minutes until 2:00 and i’ll get this nerve-wracking show on the road
14. i just realized i’m hungry. yay. that’s good news. i will try to re-establish listening to physical hunger as opposed to emotional..... i’m glad i’ve waited to eat though i’ve been sitting here for hours surrounded by goodies


ok, better go...

more soon!

hugs!

Indigo

Tired.

I am a grump.
I have a bad attitude.
I am pissed off and sour.
I am no fun to be around anymore.
I suck.
I am old. Getting old. Old.
I am precariously dangling on the edge of bitter.
Pathetic.
Despairing.
Ungrateful
and unable to be happy.
Sometimes its just too much.
I'm ashamed.
Its so embarrassing being angry
and hurt
If he knew he wouldn't love me.
If i told him he would give up
I know it sounds ungrateful.
Unappreciative of all that's great.
Its embarrassing - my bad attitude.
I don't like it and i want it to go away. Its upsetting.
I want to be young again.
And innocent
and sweet
I want to erase the heartbreak and pain and lies and deceit.
I want to have fresh eyes to look upon things and to again assume first that people are good.
I want to trust.
Where is my trust?!
I want to trust and feel safe and secure.
I want to KNOW with everything in my heart.
I want to KNOW
completely and fully and without a shadow of doubt
to KNOW a hundred percent
I hate not being light and springy
I want to be kind and carefree
i want that easy smile
and gentle spirit that i'd always just assumed was me
Where did my smile go?
I feel so old
And sad

Dream

Oh lord. I am in paaaaain. My body feels stiffer than

Woke up dreaming that i'd gotten caught in a crossfire. I clean round bloody hole was left in my palm after being shot. I cried when i discovered that i had bloody nubs in lieu of two fingers. I was devestated that i wouldn't be able to dance. People around tried to comfort me and pretend it wasn't so, but i knew they were just trying to be nice. The children dancers gathered around me and gave me celebratiory "Glow" and honored me with gifts and smiles. I knew they were just being nice. I knew i was finished.

My cousins moved into the "bad neighborhood" that i'd lived in before. They seemed to bring a whole new energy of lightness and joy and so i didn't warn them. I didn't want to rain on their parade with talk of rat feces, drugs and indiscriminate violence. They ran and played in the courtyard- tag games and ball. Then someone screamed and i turned to see the body of an honored patriarch lying still. I scooped up his limp torso and tore across a field to a drinking fountain where i thought i could revive him. I yelled out, "HOLD HIS HEAD! HOLD HIS HEAD" but they did not listen and it turned and his skull fell off. I could feel it slide out from between my fingers but there was nothing i could do. I held his frightful decapitated torso in my shaking hands.

Just woke up. Lord allmighty am i sore. OW!!!
Dreamt that i'd been caught in a crossfire, received a gunshot in the middle of my palm and lost two fingers. I was devestated that i wouldn't be able to dance. All the little dancer "glowed" me by surprise like a little memorial. My cousins moved to an area that i had lived before. It was a dangerous area while i was there but they brough a whole new lightness and joy. The guys came out and played ball and play tag games in the street. So, i didn't feel i should scare them away by warning them. Then a treasured father figure was found dead in the yard. Someone screamed and i scooped up his torso and booked across a field to a drinking fountain to get him water. When i reached the fountain i screamed for someone to hold his head, but it the skull turned and fell off the neck. I couldn' save him.

Vending Binge

Well, my Thai food arrived. (2 hrs later)
::burp:: But, i ate so much junk food ::burp:: that now i'm too full to eat it.
I hate that!

En Route (still)

Well of course i missed my flight! (Again.) That's my MO! I've lost count how many flights i've missed this last year but its gotta be about a half dozen. But this time it wasn't my fault! I swear! I swear! We sat and fidgeted in the eensy tiny rickety commuter plane in the Kennedy Airport runway for about an hour in a downpour waiting to be cleared for take off. By the time we arrived in the 2nd airport and i made it to gate C5 for my connecting flight, they'd just shut the doors and left my poor abandoned Lebanese booty behind! Boohoo!

So, stuck in D.C. am i for the night.

I shuttled into the main terminal where i tracked down a frazzled airline employee who gifted me with a pink "distressed passenger" hotel voucher, waited in the faaaaa-reeezing downpour and shuttled here to the Hampton Inn while trying not to get hit by a bolt of lighting along the way. I'd love to change out of these drenched clothes but since i don't have my luggage, i've cranked the heater up to 80 instead. (It's so exciting to use a heater! They don't have them in Hawaii!) I can't wait until my delivery Thai food arrives so i can strip down out of these sopping jeans and take a hot bath.

Currently I'm watching the comedy station eating M & M's from the vending machine around the corner. I wonder if D is watching it too?

I've spent so much money today it makes me sick. After the $7 airport sandwich, it occured to me that it might be a good idea to save all my receipts during this trip to prevent becoming lackadaisacal and removed aoout what i'm spending - i have to reign myself in since since the Guru expenses will be high: lessons, music - and i officially have no income! What i spend is gone. Gone gone. For good. Nothin refueling the tank. I didn't plan to spend seventy stupid bucks for stupid t'shirts, but come on now, I couldn't greet The Guru empty handed! Are you kidding me? How rude would i be? Besides, whenever she wears her "I (heart) New York" shirt and he drinks out of his Big Apple mug, they'll know i care. Afterall, they're picking me up from the airport, letting me stay in their home and giving of themselves their very precious time and love. Its the least i could do. Really, i wish i could do much more. But, seventy bucks for t'shirt and mugs?!! Oy Vey!

Anyway, maybe i'll keep track of it here?! That would keep me accountable to myself and give D a chance to help scold me if need be. Ok, today's expenses:

$9.75 - 1 roasted vege sandwich and diet coke at the airport
$70.30 - 2 New York T'shirts and coffee mugs for The Guru & the Mr. (ARRRRG)
$74.64 - overnight at the Hampton Inn (thanks for the "discount" u turkeys)
$23.00 - Delivery Thai food dinner
$4.64 - M & M's, diet coke, and finger nail polish remover
$3.00 - vending machine snacks (i am STARVING. Where's this Thai food?! It's been an hour and half!)

For a whopping grand total of:
______________________
$185.33

ohhhh lorrrrrd.....

And i haven't even gotten there yet...

::sigh:::

Well, i better call The Guru back. She just got my message that i won't be arriving and called left me a phone message. On the bright side. This computer R O C K S as does this cell phone.... How incredibly cool it is to be able to blog and email from the comfort of my cozy little 80 degree room. Also, lets here it for hotel rooms. YAAAAAY.... They also ROCK.... My own little t.v. My own little mini coffee maker with little mini cofffe bags, my own little ice cube bucket and my very own little King size bed... hehe.. YAY.

Ok, time to call... byebye for now!

Phew!

Wow!
I didn't have the Guru's home phone number so i called and left a message that i missed my flight on her college office phone hoping she might check it. Then i left a second message at the number D found on her website. I'd assumed it was her home number, but turns out, it was the same message machine! Lucky thing i have this laptop and decided to email them too, just in case. If i hadn't done that they would have driven the entire hour to the airport and found no Indigo!

And that would have sucked!

Freakin Out

God. A whole month? With The Guru? A whole month? With them in their house? I'm so out of shape! What if i totally bomb! I'm going to totally bomb! I'll be awkward and clumsy and i'll have lost all grace! She'll be horrified and i'll be humilated and she'll shame me and i'll wish i never went! What am i doing what am i doing what am i doing?!!?!?? EEEEEeeeekks!!!!

I leave tomorrow afternoon.

Missing Him Allready

I am so, so, so incredibly sad. I don't want to leave him. If it was only for one day i'd be sad - but an entire month!? How will i survive not seeing him, not holding his hand?