Plentiful Sunday

It had been a crazy week. Precepting at work. Studying. Cancelled discussion group. Lindy Groove. Hair cut. Had semi-plans to go out on Friday and Saturday which I cancelled because I was too overwhelmed. Anyway, I made up for my missed fun today, of all days.

Up very early. Over to the Stake Center for Stake Conference. Practiced our two songs, The Morning Breaks and The Lord's Prayer. Thank heavens that Aurora (who directs a lot of the Stake musical numbers) finally saw the light and gave us staffed copies of the music, with all the key changes, instead of the ridiculous copies she had us practicing on initially.

I really like atteding church services in the Stake Center. Unlike most of the newer buildings, the SC has lots of stained glass windows, interesting carved doors, and a genuine choir loft. It's almost like being in a modest cathedral.

Our numbers went okay. The first was full of power and cheerfulness, and the last thrummed with controlled energy ... eventhough we were a bit off-key towards the end. The accompanists on the piano and organ were wonderful. I sometimes wish I were as talented, and could play music on sight. But not enough to actually take time away from everything else in my life to devote to it.

New fact: from our stake, we only have one person actively serving in the military. Admit I felt sad and petty when I heard it. As it is, he was injured in Fallujah, and is recovering at the moment. Prayers for him.

The conference talks were pretty good. Slow start with long talks, but it got getter towards the end. One speaker from my ward gave a particularly good talk about community service, and getting involved on our own instead of waiting for a "service project."

After SC, I went over to The Brewery to see Lenny's show. Actually, it's a bi-annual event where many artists show their work. Lenny, who I know from swing dancing, works with live wire, a non-heated neon-looking wire. Some interesting stuff. But my wallet remained closed due to a new-found resolution to be more trhifty. My favorite exhibit was Your Psycho Girlfriend.

More finding-a-new-roommate drama. It's been a frustrating and laughable journey.

And, to cap off the night, went over to celebrate The Dot's birthday. Before we had been there 20 minutes, Wonder Woman loudly whispered to see if he wanted to play Catan. Of course he did. But, and this is one of the things that I love about The Dot and Ballerina's (who doesn't really like Catan) relationship, he conferred with his wife, and they came to a decision together. It was his birthday, she didn't have a large workload the next day, etc. And so we played. Improv-er creamed us the first game. Which was okay, as I dominated in the second ... from nine points, all the way to stealing a metropolis and winning the game in one turn. Victory is so sweet!

By the end of the evening, we had pretty much settled the roommate question. A few wrinkles to iron out, but the bare bones of the plan were in place, and all the major players were on board. Due to a slight tendency to superstition, I won't lay it all out, but I have high hopes for it working out well for everyone involved.

Work horse

What a week! I have been at work every single day this week, and I'm exhausted.

Monday I was put in charge because the core charge nurse called in sick. Craziness. We were well-staffed, but 2W was trying to steal one of our nurses so that they could take a post-op, and 4W was trying to sneak one of their patients in. Plus, we had a lot of preceptees. Insane. Luckily, I had Tso as my team leader, and she helped get people out on breaks and was able to coordinate patients travelling to procedures so that we didn't fall behind.

Tuesday I was scheduled to be in charge. Again with the craziness. No CNIII's ,since they were all at the meeting, so I had an interesting mix of new and moderate RN's. The 4W patient hadn't even been started on chemo, which was the reason she was sent to us. We had 6 patients travelling to MRI, CT, fluoro and dialysis. SaSo was the team leader, but she'd never even responded to a trauma page. I went with her the first time and showed her the ropes. I think we had a combined number of six trauma pages. Ridiculous. At least all of them looked good and didn't need to come to the PICU.

I forewent going to Paladino's on Tuesday night, eventhough I really wanted to see the old crowd.

Wednesday I went to CCRN review class for the cardic and respiratory content. Many good lectures. The cardiac defect and staged repair lecture was good ... the first one on this topic that I've really fully understood. It's just so far from my regular practice, since those patients all go to 2W. FK also gave a superb respiratory lecture. She wears so many hats ... respiratory therapist, RN, and recently passed the CCRN. A very good day.

Thursday I precepted EC again ... our last day for a couple months. We didn't get a pair, but were able to focus on a mildly critical patient, and she did fairly well. EC will be on nights for a couple months before she returns for her last stretch. I like her, and like precepting her, but it is tiring.

Thursday evening I went to Lindy Groove. Maybe I shouldn't have. But sometimes a little dance therapy is needed. Plus, I'd already skipped out on Tuesday.

Friday I again woke up early and went in for the CCRN practice test. Two years ago, when I took the full review course, I freaked out because I felt so unprepared. This time, eventhough I'd missed half of the review session, I passed with a few questions to spare. What a relief. I'm going to continue studying hard, but it's a huge relief to know that I'm on solid ground. Also, since this is a scored test, I'm shooting for top 10th percentile. We'll see.

There was a Do Something Blue event tonight, but I was so worn out that I skipped that too. Really, I hope to never have another week like this past one.

Just for the record ...

It's been almost three weeks since my last post. And the situation doesn't look to be getting better anytime soon. Working on a project for work that should be sucking up a lot of my internet time.

Anyway, just for the record, I'll mention some things that I want documented.

Spent the week after the SLC trip sick. By the end of two weeks of not working, I was really glad to get back. Working a little helps me stay productive on my off days.

Curry and Catan on 3/18. Three tables' worth and lots of curry. Taught two new people the basics, and got some others grounded on C&K with the special rules. Is it selfish to want a large pool to play from?

3/21 went to Chapman University to hear Pagels speak on the Judas texts.

3/25 made dinner up at the homestead to celebrate Dad's birthday. Made curry because I was still craving it. However, I used the "good" roux that Mom got from Japan. Unfortunately, it was the hot stuff ... and if I'd studied Japanese more, I might have been able to read the box. Oops. Spork was supposed to bring the cake, but he forgot. Oops again.

3/28 had a meeting with a lawyer representing a hospital I used to work for. A patient's parents are suing the hospital. Lawyer wanted to go over my testimony before a possible deposition. It's rather a waste of time, because this was over sixx years ago, and I don't remember the patient at all. The most I can do is read what I charted. I just have to remember to only answer the questions asked. As a test, lawyer asked me if I knew what time it was. I looked at my watch and said it was 1345. Oops. I should have just looked at my watch and said yes. Or not looked at any watch and said no.

3/30-31 Do Something Blue dances and workshop. Met some great dancers from San Diego, and some interesting ones from Seattle. Apparently SD is full of neo-swingers ... those who like to dress up and drink martinis, but can't actually dance much more than an east coast basic. Sad. Then again, they'd probably look me over and sneer at my modern, low-maintenance attire. The dancing was hot. Teachers all did a great job. I especially liked Cy's fill in the sculpture exercise.



Have been precepting E at work. She is another member of the half-Japanese club. The other half is Taiwanese. She's a little reticent, but doing pretty well so far. We'll start taking pairs and more unstable 1:1's this coming week. We had a really unfair assignment on Thursday. I made it work, and she got some interesting experiences, but next time I'm going to be more forceful with SS about future assignments.

Somewhere in here, I went to visit Pilgrimgirl to talk over the X2 drama. Besides hearing her side of the story and coming up with options, it was just good to see her.

The house for the Arrowhead weekend is filling up. I'm really looking forward to it this year. Lots of returning friends. Some friend who missed last year. A couple of old friends who are coming for the first time. Some new faces that are coming for the first time. I'm looking forward to some really good times.

4/5 went to Lindy Groove. This is not unusual. I just mention it because I had a fantastic time. NW asked to me dance (first time ever in a social setting), and StretchJ asked me twice. I've talked before about charity dances. Well, these two competitive dancers make me want to accept all the charity dances I'm offered, in the hopes that they (NW and Stretch J) will continue to be charitable to me.

4/6 Whiteboy, Improv-er, The Dot and FGITW came over for some afternoon Catanning. I came close, but didn't with any. Wonder Woman made it back to catch the lasst game. Then I went over for the Easter program choir rehearsal. Choir is such a mixed bag for me. I think Doc Martin (who I believe also qualifies for the half Japanese club) does an incredible job with the singers and resources available to her. She chooses music the choir can sing (which sometimes I can't singe well, because the women sing unison), and does her best to buffer the weak singers with the not-so-weak singers. Confess that I am rather a not-so-weak singer, instead of one of the few solid singers.

4/6 Easter. We sang, "God So Loved the World," one of Doc Martin's original pieces. It is lovely. "Do Not Fear For You Are Mine," an amazingly beautiful and comforting piece. And "Make a Joyful Noise," a pretty piece that dances along like a sonatina by Beethoven. Had a teary moment during "DNF," and had to just mouth the words and hope my eyeliner didn't slosh down my face. Couldn't get enough of the Easter singing, so I went back for the singles' ward sacrament meeting. Satine did a lovely duet of "O Divine Redeemer," which I love for the dakr and melancholy parts. And Mr. Baritone and Satine did a lovely duet, the name of which I can't seem to remember. ANyway, I still hadn't gotten enough of singing, so I went for the Stake Choir practice in preparation for Stake Conference in two weeks. Aurora is conducting. And I enjoyed it. However, I would enjoy it much more if she would get us the actual music, instead of copies o the hymns with notes. If we were singing straight from the hymnal, it wouldn't matter as much, but there are lots of key changes and additional accompaniment that really messed me up. She just needs to take the plunge, kill some trees, and xerox the music. Aaaaahhhhh...

Getting some sister before hitting the road

Woke up really early this morning. Much earlier than I should have, given the late hour at which I finally fell asleep. But for once, it was a very good thing to be such an early bird, because I caught the JLITH.

JLITH got back from her multi-European city tour (Milan, Paris, a Turkish city which I can't think of the name of, and Rome) very late on Saturday night. We slept most of Sunday ... she because of jet lag, me mostly doped out on cough medicine. She went to work early Mornday morning, and didn't return until Tuesday afternoon, and slept way before I left to go to the MAC. But when I caught her awake early Wednesday morning, she'd uploaded her pictures onto her laptop, and was ready to tell me about her pictures and trip. She got some absolutely amazing shots of the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the cathedral in Milan, and Notre Dame. When I asked her what she enjoyed the most, it was the river boat trip she took in Turkey. Of which she has no pictures because her battery died. That is a travel tragedy.

So it was that, after a little bonding, JLITh went to work, and I got ready to make the long drive back.

But wait! Let me say a few words about the Beans. Bean1 is getting bigger and stronger, and prattles merrily on all the time. He is super defensive about his brother, and will take on anyone who tries to push Bean2 around. Bean1 is getting into the unfortunate habit of scowling when he gets angry, and yes, he did get quite angry with me a few times. However, he also gave me a number of hugs and kisses, still asks me, "Whacha doin' Dowa?" and loves it when I play Bean1 music on his belly.

Bean2 is also getting bigger, and more verbal, but nowhere near as verbal as Bean1. Bean2 is definitely more active, and stronger. Bean2 is getting to be a bit of a wailer ... and he's quite talented at it. Hopefully he will get out of the habit and learn to use his words more. Genie is training them to put their dishes in the dishwasher so cut down on clutter, and it seems to be working. Bean2 has a passion for Kix cereal.

Bean3 has definitely gotten bigger. Per Bork, Bean3 is off the growth charts for his age. He generally amuses himself quiety in his bouncy layette (?), although he can yowl with the best of them. Genie and Bork both hope that he learns to sleep through the night ... soon.

And so, after giving the Beans and Genie hugs and kisses, I was off for California again. The road was long and uneventful. I was particularly amused by this sign for a town called Browse. That and the Zzyxx one are fun markers along a very un-fun freeway. My goal was to make it to Las Vegas by 18700, so that I would have time to pick up my show ticket eat a little dinner, and take a short nap in my car before the actual show. The thing is, once I realized how hot it was going to be in Vegas, I actually started slowing down so that I wouldn't get there too early! From 80-85mph, I dropped down to 65mph ... really irritating anyone unfortunate enough to drive behind me, but the though of spending too much time in a smoke-filled casino, or having a hot nap in my car was just really unappealing.

I finally rolled into Vegas around 1630. Found the Wynn hotel easily enough, and got a great parking space. Went to get my ticket, and almost had an incident. Apparently Spamalot is doing so well that the box office had to ask the ticket vendors to stop selling tickets for certain shows. The box office girl actually had to check the time when I bought my on-line ticket to make sure it was valid. Thankfully it was, or we'd have had a huge problem!

Had an early dinner at one of the hotel restaurants. And took my (hot) nap in my car (must remember to buy an air freshener ... with warmer temps, the car is beginning to smell like the onion rings and Del Taco I had on the way up).

Spamalot was fabulous. Witty and slapstick and hilarious. Loved John O'Hurley as King Arthur. Dancing with the Stars was an excellent move for him. Not only did it totally revive his career, but he has an incredible fan base, AND he knows how to dance now! Loved the Lady of the Lake and the Laker Girls. And the knights were endearing, if a little gross. Thought RobM did a wonderful job. And, he looks great in spandex.Stayed for a couple of minutes afterwards to congratulate him and snal a picture of him with his family (who were visiting the same night) in front of the marquee with the cast list.

And then I was off. And a mere four hours later, I was at home. Aaaaahhhhh ...

MAC tonight

West coast swing dancing at the MAC again. Arrived early to do the lessons with Pam Genovesi and BJ. Beginner lesson was really too basic, but I did it anyway, because they needed follows. I was sad that another of the advanced girls didn't join in as well. I just feel that everyone should be invested in helping beginning dancers get better.

Also did the intermediate lesson. Funny, but I just don't remember it at all. Anyway, the familiar crowd was there when the dancing really got started.

Sherry, who I'd met last time I was in town. Tall, blonde, young, fun, friendly, and a pretty good dancer. Sherry always manages to call California "Cali." I don't actually know anyone from California who calls it Cali ... most of the people who do are from outside of California, and I guess Cali is a way of glamourizing California. I tend to see most people from California saying they're from specific cities (Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, Palm Springs) or areas (LA, the OC, the Bay area, etc). People in California know that the state is so diverse in termperament and temperature that more distinction is needed than just California.

Utah Swing Ambassador was there as well. He was one of the first people I met at the MAC. Tall, scruffy, looks like he could be Aaron Eckhart's younger brother. Has very dry, chapped hands. Is always very friendly to everyone who comes to the MAC, hence the nickname. Leads really well, always to the level of the person he's dancing with. Turns out he's a plumber, and that he lived in LA about five years ago, AND he used to dance at Suzy Q's and Paladino's. How we never met in LA I'll never understand. Anyway, he's one of my favorite people and dancers at the MAC.

Foosball Enthusiast was also there. He's rather short and compact. Does web design. Dances really well, but is very structured when it comes to dance. Not that he can't adapt ... for instance, he was great at leading some double pirrouette kickout turns once he saw that I could do them (I think pirrouette turns haven't caught on at the MAC yet), and seems to admire my footwork. But he doesn't seem to be able to adapt to a follow taking over a couple beats of the dance. But I guess the fact that sometimes I'm willful (or just not great at following WCS) would have to balance me out on the badness scale of dancing.

Handcuffs was there as well. It's always a little hit or miss with him. About every other time I come, I see him here. Which is funny, since it was on his recommendation that I first came to the MAC. I think he still dreams about coming back to LA, and I know he misses the LA lindy scene.

The Bills (tall and short) were both there as well. And Shoeless One. And I danced with Bob for the first time. Always admired his dancing. I had a hard time following, but I was also really tired. And also danced one song with Eric. It always amuses me when people ask, as Eric did, "So, you're an LA lindy dancer?" As if there was only one type of lindy in LA. Maybe everyone still associates LA dancers with a strict Hollywood style. In which case, Eric must have been horribly disappointed. I'd classify myself into the groove category, with strong leanings to blues dancing.

Weddings and other painful activities

Went to the SLC temple today to see Wry-an and Georgia Peach get married. Parked underground, circling around for a long time, and still got there about 20 minutes early. Lunched in the cafeteria to while the time and calm the growling monster within. When I finally got to the waiting room, was relieved to see Bossman ... any familiar face would have done, but it was good to see him in particular. The thing about being friends with Wry-an, is that I know that his other friends are really worth getting to know, and Bossman was probably the best of Wry-an's best friends. Bossman pointed out the happy couple's family, and it was funny to see the familiar faces reflected in the unfamiliar ones. Wry-an is a male version of his sister (right down to the wry and sardonic sense of humor). Georgia Peach is the image of her mother, and has her father's exuberance.

In the sealing room, it was nice to look around and know that all these people have a deep love for this marvelous couple.

The sealer was a man of plain words, which I appreciated. He didn't get off track by quoting poetry or retelling long story. He just reviewed the wording of the sealing ordinance, which was a good to hear. The one part that I didn't quite understand was his whole analysis of the word "unto." The sealer stated that the word "unto" implied a sense of obligation and duty, as opposed to ownership. But then the word "to" was used in another portion of the sealing, which made me question why the wording wasn't the same in both instances. As always, the sealer was a gentleman of advanced age. I'm guessing he was in his late 70's or early 80's. And his speech was very, well, patriarchal. Not entirely in an annoying way, but enough to make me squirm a little. He talked a lot about the husband's duty to financially support his wife and children. And I kept wondering why this was a one-way street. Isn't it possible for this to be a shared responsibility? Much as raising children and caring for a household can be a shared responsibility? He must not have known a lot about the couple at hand if he was telling Wry-an about his financial duty. I wonder if the patriarchal-ness of most sealers is a generational thing, and that this way of thinking will ease into something less patriarchal and more eternal marriage-ish.

After the sealing, we waited for the obligatory greeting outside of the temple. Wry-an and Georgia Peach looked fantastic in their wedding duds ... especially Goergia Peach with her fancy red sandals! Took a bunch of photos, and dispersed. I opted not to go with Bossman, Perky, et al for food, but found myself driving to the mall anyway to search for some new shoes (my own shoes were killing me!), and another bottle of Angel perfume (since I'd left my own miniscule bottle at home, and I don't like to dance without some on). I was rather dubious of finding anything good at the ZCMI mall, but decided that i couldn't live with the pain of my shoes any longer.

When I'd finally found parking and gotten inside, I was elated to find that there was a Macy's. Then I was deflated to find that the store was being liquidated. Apparently there is just not enough business in downtown Salt Lake City (or indeed anywhere in Utah) to keep a Macy's around. Of course, this meant that all the perfume and cosmetics had been cleared out long ago and sent to other Macy's locations. And when I got down to the shoes section, there was nothing that I was tempted to buy. I kept hoping that something would turn up, but it was not meant to be,

So, I limped back to my car and headed back to JLITH's to take a nap before the ring ceremony. As I left SLC, I drove past where the on-line map had said the Rice Eccles stadium was. And I saw nothing that resembled a stadium, or even anything remotely resembling a Tower, which was where the reception was being held. And I started tot get a very bad feeling.

Back at the house, I got on-line again and looked for the RE Stadium Towers. I looked past the first entry on google, and tried the second. And I was stunned. Who would have ever thought that Wry-an, a true-blue, dyed to the ears BYU fan would ever celebrate his wedding at the University of Utah? I was boggled. Then rushed ... how was I ever going to make it out to Sugarhouse in time? Nap time forgotten, I jumped in my car and started the long-ish haul out to Sugarhouse.

When I got to the University, it was getting dark. Used to the money-grabbing parking policies of Californian universities, I wandered around looking for non-permitted parking. I had almost given up, when I found a parking lot for the bookstore. Parked there and started the hike out to the Towers. Had to go back to my car two times for forgotten things. When I finally made it to the parking attendant's hutch, I decided to inquire if I was in the right spot. No, I wasn't. I needed to move over to the stadium parking lot, because this lot was going to close before the reception ended. So I manuevered back to my car. When I drove past the hutch, the same guy came out and told me that, because it was before 1800, I'd need to park at a metered parking space, or else I'd risk getting a ticket (and have to come back the next day to pay, yadda yadda). I thanked him, and revved the car. I was already late.

Finally (after driving all the way around the stadium due to one-way roads), I pulled into the correct parking lot. And was almost at the point of tears when I realized that the metered parking was a long way from the entrance to the towers. Telling myself to ignore my throbbing feet, I parked, remembered to take all my things, and finally made it to the ring ceremony, which I'd missed entirely.

The dinner was really nice. Not porcelain-plates-and crystal goblets nice ... everything we ate with was disposable. However, the centerpieces were pretty and whimsical, the food was tasty, and the entertainment was marvelous. All of the immediate family (plus Bossman) stood up and had their say, and Georgia Peach's siblings even sang a specially written, farsical piece that one of the brothers played on the guitar. All in all, the dinner was a success.

As the sun went down, the reception started. Wry-an and Georgia Peach got pulled into a receiving line ... pity, since I knew that they didn't actually want to do it, but were bowing to the requests of the parents. And the rest of us were left to reminice and admire the beautiful view of SLC at night.

At last, the receiving line was terminated, and the newly wed couple were allowed to have their first dance. Georgia Peach and her dad then did a lively dance to, "Brown Eyed Girl," and then everyone else joined in. I had long ago kicked off my shoes, but they were still throbbing, so I contented myself with just watching.

Left the festivities about 2100, after wishing them both very well. Then drove out to the MAC, changed my clothes, and settled in for some real dancing. Utah Swing Ambassador (wih whom I danced the most lovely nightclub two step), Foosball Enthusiast, and Little Eastwood were the specials of the night. I also did a few charity dances, which I expect, and generally enjoy if the lead is at least congenial. Then again, I'm sure that there are some who would consider me their charity dance, so I can't be too high on myself. Anyway, it's always good to get some dances in at the MAC

And now, for some more youtube goodies!

West Coast Swing
I love the foot slides in this piece, and that slow movement the follow does after the partial tuck turn.

I love this clip because of the roll the follow does on the lead's right leg. It's fabulous. The glove, I concede, is not.

This is another good Jordan and Tatiana clip. They're so smooth, and have so many of those little physical witty interpretations which I just love. And, I think it's a Jack and Jill competition, mainly because of the the way the competitors are lined up in the back. If it was a Jack and Jill, what incredible luck to be paired together!

Night Club Two Step
This isn't my favorite clip ... just seems like they're trying too hard to be smooth that they aren't smooth enough. However, the slip does allow you to see the NCTW basic, which is fairly simple.

And lastly, I love everything about these dancers. They are so smooth, and each movement is clean, graceful and easy. The only thing I don't exactly love is the lead's hand movements, but it must be a part of the NCTS genre, so I won't complain too loudly.

Wandering thoughts

Drove up to SLC by myself today. Eleven hours of staring at the road. Subjected some ... er ... wrote about some if it here. So why am I still going at it? Because there are some very poignant observations that I left out.

First, in my search for the greatest onion rings in the universe, I've found out that the Mad Greek (conveniently located in Baker) does not even deserve a place. They were that bad. No salt in the batter. I was done after three of them, then had to pull off the freeway to dump them in the trash so that my car wouldn't smell like onion rings. Comforted myself with a strawberry shake. Because even if their rings are horrible, their strawberry shakes are heavenly. Any other place in the world, and I would get a chocolate shake (if I got one at all). But in Baker, it's strawberry shakes. Maybe it's the bits of strawberries that i can suck up the straw?

Second. It is such bad taste for highway construction teams to leave up construction signs (especially for reduced speed limits!) when there is no active construction work. Makes me want to growl. Gggggrrrrrrr.

And third ... I am going to miss my friends who are getting married an awful lot. After honeymoon, they are taking a six week honeymoon in the south pacific, then moving across the country. I will miss them hugely. And wow ... they're going to have sex in less than 36 hours. Hope it goes well.

Two for the road ... a taste of Thai

Aaaaaahhhhhh. Three days of working. Three days of working with a headcold and cough. Three days of working with a headcold and a cough and shifting assignments with difficult families. Aaaarrrgggghhh (what a difference a few R's and G's make).

But now I'm off. And instead of leaving this morning for SLC, I decided to take a day to recuperate and revive. Booked a two hour Thai massage at Pho Siam. Aaaahhhh. Wonder Woman and Precious had been there recently and highly recommended it. And as they were with me when I got my first Thai massage, I trusted in their massage-discerning powers.

Got out to Pho Siam (in Echo Park) with a modicum of difficulty. Had to circle the park with the lake a few times before the location made sense. Sometimes on-line maps are not accurate (which makes me want to ditch index card directions and get a GPS system). Was pleasantly surprised to find that PS has its own, ample parking lot. Entered, and was soon shown in to a private room. Was told to change into the loose pants provided, and remain topless. If I hadn't've been forewarned by WW and P, I might have been a little freaked. As it was, I was only a little uncomfortable, and my worries soon evaporated, as the (female) masseuse draped me with towels when she entered.

I should explain that Thai massage is rather different from Swedish massage. Swedish massage uses a lot of oil, and long strokes to increase circulation and blood flow. I generally find that Swedish massage does little to hit my pressure points, and generaly get a deep tissue or sports massage to work through the knots that inevitably spring up in my neck and shoulders.

Thai massage, on the other hand, is much more active. Instead of lying on a raised table like a corpse, one lies on a flat mat on an area that gives the masseuse the ability to move about more freely. The masseuse can walk/move around, using feet, hands, elbows, forearms and knees to get at problematic areas. (The PS masseuse did use a little lotion, but I've not ever had any kind of lubricant with Thai massage before. This may just be a nod to Western ideas of what a massage should incorporate.)

The first hour of the massage, Kim (as I've arbitrarily decided to call her), kept me prone/supine while she loosened me up with lots of pressure. At times she was kneeling on my calves and thighs, at others she was standing up and using the ball, heel or side of her foot to work through my muscles. And there were time when I had to wince and pull away, at which points she backed off on the pressure (but not too much, I asked). Especially on my left leg, which I suspect is less flexible due to the way I dance.

The second hour was my favorite, as it incorporated more active, yoga-inspired stretching. The kind that I need a lot of motivation to do. I was sitting, kneeling, on my side, and everywhichway as Kim used all parts of her extremities to work me out. Again, the left hip is problematic, and I wonder what I can do at home to loosen it up.

When Kim finished, I felt simultaneously relieved and forlorn. I wanted it to go on forever, even as I knew that my body could use a break. I felt ... hmmmmm ... good. Longer. Looser. More flexible. Hmmmmmmm ...

More pieces of the puzzle, or beads of the necklace

Getting to know new people is like piecing a puzzle together ... so many different pieces, trying to get them all to fit, and learning to see the big picture. Friends, family, individual tastes, motivations, inspirations, fears, doubts, living spaces, the presence or absence of different types of knowledge, habits, etc. When I'm new-friend-ing, I'm always amazed at how all these factors come together to form one unique person. We're all so incredibly complex.

Went over to Brea to have lunch with Socrates. Renaissance Cafe, unless I'm mistaken. The (new) owner stopped by for a bit of a chat. This (talking to random people when we're out and about) always suprises me about Socrates. I generally never talk to random strangers unless I think there's something they need help with ... directions, instructions, a comforting person to talk with at a party, etc. Maybe this is just a manifestation of my insecurity or disinclination for small talk.

Then drove down to Irvine for Pilgrim Girl's Pretty Party. Sniffles and headache starting to make themselves heard ... again. Popped a couple advil (one of my two drugs of choice) as soon as i got them PG's cupboard. We all brought food to share, and settled in to learn jewelry-making from TSW. The table was lit with several small lamps, and the beads shimmered in the soft light. TSW passed out the piece kits we'd signed up for, and those of us who'd brought our own beads shared our abundance. I was extremely happy that some old necklaces and bracelets that had been languishing in drawers were recycled into desired and creative new pieces.

TSW spent a little time explaining technique, and then we all settled into the cozy habit of talking about. It felt almost like an old-time quilting circle. Old time friends, and a couple of new friends, gathered around a common activity, just sharing our lives, and eating hearty, good food. Old jokes, new jokes, friend-ly news, sharing experiences, lauding each other creative attempts.

Left a little before 2100. Hadn't realized the time. Working for the next three days before going up to SLC. Not looking forward to it.

And the Oscar goes to ...

Had a few people over to watch the Oscars. Rather ridiculous, as I hadn't seen more than two or three movies in the theatre this past year, and only two or three on dvd. But it was an excuse to get together with friends, and that reason was reason enough.

First watched the red carpet show. Must say that evening gown kudos go to whoever dressed Gwyneth Paltrow and Reese Witherspoon. Lovely, lovely dresses. Demerits to the reporters from ABC ... irritating and often irrelevant chatter. The better red carpet show was the "highlights" one that just spotlighted the best fashion.

Ellen Degeneres hosted this year. And did marvelously. Loved the opening video clip, where they celebrated the nominees. And loved her gags. Handing a script to Martin Scorsese.Getting her picture taken with another. Vacuuming. And loved the dancers behind the screen who did the amazing shadow formations.

Had a very tense moment near the end. The show ran over. As yew duuuuuueeeee. And I hadn't extended the recording. Which meant that we didn't get to see the last coupe of awards ... which just happen to be the most important ones. There was almost widespread pandemonium. Until someone realized that I'd also set the tivo to record the show right after the Oscars. Aaaaaaahhhhh. So no, we didn't get to watch the Barbara Walters Oscar Extravaganza. But we did get to see the rest of the show. Must remember this for future awards shows. We almost had a meltdown tonight!

And now I'm excited about movies. Some that garnered awards (or didn't) that I want to see ...

Elizabeth I
Children of Men
The Queen
Happy Feet
Half Nelson
The Last King of Scotland
The Pursuit of Happyness
Letter From Iwo Jima
Flags of Our Fathers
Little Miss Sunshine
Pan's Labyrinth

Doing something blue

(Darn it, the heads got cut off! Anyway, this is the logo for DSB.)

Went and got my hair done today. Marvelous and easy drive up to Glendale.

Afterwards drove out to San Marino for a Do Something Blue dance.

Tracy lead the lesson, with Melissa as the follow. Lots of really good information and technique. And I liked how Tracy kept reiterating that it was just a dance. Seems as if some new dancers get the feeling that because they are dancing with someone so closely, that their partners must necessarily feel some romantic attachment. Not that I deny that it can happen, but it's generally a good thing to talk to the person one has romantic feelings for, as opposed to stalk them on the dance floor.

During the lesson I danced a couple of times with That Tall Asian Guy. TTAG is tall, asian, slightly older, very stiff, and always creeps me out a bit. Maybe because he physically reminds me of my father. Maybe because he always comes on a little strong. Maybe it's the overpowering cologne. Maybe it's because I think he thinks he's better than he actually is. I don't know. For whatever reason, I don't really like to dance with him. Which is unfair, because, deep down, I do think that he means well, and is probably just insecure. And it's not like he's creepy in the blatant manner of Dead Fish Guy.

Did manage to get some dances in with Arthur and Arnold ... both amazing blues dancers. And talked some with LitheOne (who I met at Gwynn's party) and some other fun (and also little) asian girl. We commiserated about Dead Fish Guy. Creepy. Even more so now. Before, he usd to plaster his hair to his head in imitation of Nick. Now it seems as if he's decided that more is more, and is growing his locks out. But even more than the hair ... it's the inappropriateness of him. Inappropriate dips, drops, lifts and leans. Creepy hand gestures. Always searching for young asian women. And (per report) inappropriate touching. Creepy. I generally dance with anyone who asks, but whenever he's around, I always find something else to do to signify that I cant' dance the current song.

Also talked some with Sheri. Didn't know that she worked as a physical therapist. Turns out that she regularly works with one of the more spectacular patients that came through my work. When she mentioned the name, I immediately knew who it was, even though it's been almost five years since the admission. Will have to report back to the old-timers at work on the progress. Most of the time I eschew talking on the dance floor. Really, what can be said in a couple minutes that can be worth exploring when there's music blasting in the background? But everyonce in a while I click with a person or topic that merits going beneath the surface, and this was one of them.

Rainy day in LA

It rained today. First time in a long time. And ordinarily I would not find it remark-able enough to write about here. Except that I had to drive out to Glendale and Pasadena today. And a little bit of rain was enough to ruin my plans.

Perhaps I should explain. California is the Sunshine State. Especially in Los Angeles, we are unused to such oddities of precipitous weather patterns. So it is that, when water actually falls from the heavens, it is An Event. Romantic people with the penchant to be wet go out for long walks in the rain. Those with more of an inclination for sunshine await the day when the rain had gone, and we can all enjoy cleansed air for a few days. Hikers rejoice because the trails will be slightly less dusty, and the views from local mountains will be lovely. And those who drive (read: everyone) start panicking.

Angelenos just don't know how to drive in the rain. Besides creating pools of water over which hydroplaning is possible, our window wipers are just not used to such vigorous activity. When it rains, Angelenos who are used to activating their window wipers solely to clear off the morning dew, are generally loathe to find out that the black, previously flexible plastic has been baked into adobe by the constant sunshine, and is relatively useless at swiping away the rain on a leisurely drive down the freeway. And I do mean leisurely. What could be more leisurely than 10 mph eastbound on the 10?

So, there I was. Having left a little late for my 1700 hair appointment. Creeping along the 10 freeway. At 1650, it became blindingly clear that I wasn't going to make my appointment, seeing as it was in Glendale, and I had yet to transition to the 110, I made the call to Shears and explained my predicament. Relieved to find that she could take me the next afternoon. She was also relieved, because that meant she could leave early to prepare for her dinner party. So, we were relieved all around. And no, I didn't just turn around and go home. What, and waste the 45 minutes I'd already paid to the jealous freeway gods? No, I continued with my tribute, and made my way up to Pasadena for a night of terrific dancing.

Left Lindy Groove at midnight after the closing song. And serenely made my way home through the clean air and empty freeway. Aaaaaahhhhh ...

Neutral night at the temple

Attended the temple tonight. Interesting event because it was directed at women. President White spoke specifically to the women of the stake in the chapel session. I didn't find what he said very empowering, but neither did I find it belittling. At one point he told a rather touching story of a Relief Society president who worked hard to be in touch with the sisters in her charge. One morning, after making a batch of cookies, she had an impression to visit a particular sister in her ward. Immediately following her instincts, she popped over with a plate of cookies, and had a nice chat. Come to find out later that the sister she visited had been very depressed recently, and had had a mouthful of pills in her mouth when the RS president rang the doorbell. After having the chat, the visited sister (having spit out the pills to answer the door) found the courage to talk to her husband about what was troubling her. President White was obviously touched by this story, and had tears in his eyes when he told it. I found the idea moving, but thought that it was such a pity that the marriage relationship between the man and wife had deteriorated to the point that she couldn't discuss her problems with him, and that he had failed to notice that there was anything wrong.

Anyway, as I said, it was an event directed at the women, although there were also men in attendance. I found that President White also followed the pattern of talking to the women as if we were to be the salvation of the men in the church. How we are so much more spiritual. How men cannot reach the celestial kingdom without us. How we can have such a wonderful effect on the world as righteous and loving mothers. All the pat (and paternalistic and patriarchal) themes that generally have the effect of empowering me to let my mind wander to other topics. And yet, as noted in the title of this piece, it was a rather neutral night for me. I wonder if it had anything to do with President White's relative youth ... that he is not as deeply entrenched with the whole "protect and provide" rhetoric that I hear so often from men in the church. Or that he was recently the bishop of a thriving student ward, where wives often are the sole support of their husbands, or at least equally yoked by school. Anyway, for whatever reason, his talk rested lightly on me.

The Payoff

Every once in a while, when I've had a not-very-stressful day at work, I do something crazy. Like agree to do a double or triple shift. Yesterday was one of those days. A couple of nurses had stayed over from the night before, and some came in early, in the afternoon, to help cover the unit ... every bed full, the ED back-logged, and OR cases being held in the PACU until we could move more patients to the floor. So I wasn't surprised when Mon asked for nurses to stay over. And I was prepared. Twenty hours. Mine had been a relatively easy day, although my assignment did double up after the first twelve hours. But that's fair, as I was earning double time plus the night-shift differential. More money in my pocket for Paris.

However, my pay-off came early. At about 0200, when I came back from break, a little droopy-eyed (and you thought this was impossible for Asians?), Topsy came over and donated a blissful ten minutes to dissolving the knots in my shoulders with her thumbs and elbows. Or at least I thought those were her elbows. Maybe she just has really strong thumbs. Pressure, but good pressure. Enough to move the chair a few inches. I wanted to swivel the chair around so that she could have better access, but I didn't want to disrupt the flow. Anyway, I felt the knots when she found them. Then I felt them pop and dissolve. And then I felt good.*

AC took report from me a little early. And so it was that I was on the road home at 0300, and in bed by 0330. Until I woke up at my customary 0600. And felt the knots ... again. Oh well. C'est la vie.

*Fred the Man continues to assert that PICU nursing is really stressfull. Not as stressful as managing a family restaurant in the Austrian Alps, but less stressful than managing a family restaurant in the Austrian Alps under the watchful gaze of family. I don't know. I don't think my work stresses me out unduly. It can be difficult, but I tend to leave work at work. Otherwise I write it up here and let it go. Maybe it's just that I realize that while I do good work, it isn't incumbent upon me to be there for good work to be done. I contribute a lot, but I'm not the lynchpin. Or rather, I don't feel guilty about taking a "mental health" day when I need it. Or just plain want it.

Simple Pleasures

Cramming in as many dances as possible before 2230 on Thursday, because I had to work on Friday and Saturday.

My pulmonary hypertension patient (who's listed for a lung transplant) getting her wish "made" ... a laptop with printer, headphones, videocam, dvd's, creative software, etc etc. I love the Make a Wish Foundation.

Lunch in the garden of my work with Socrates on a sunny Saturday.

Chatting with Wry-an. Whipper-snapper. Afterwards, reading over some recent chats with friends ... smile on my face.

Good news from my Relief Society president. I feel like I'm helping things to change. Good news in the next few months.

Lunch with my visiting teacher. I'm not the easiest woman to visit teach, but she keeps coming back.

Singing in the ward choir. I'm an out-of-practice alto. Even with practice, I'm not very good. But I enjoy it.

Reading LDS feminist blogs. Exponent II and Zelophehad's Daughters. I don't always agree. And sometimes the hecklers are really irritating. But I love to read what these amazing contributors write.

Coming home and playing a knock-down game of Catan. I didn't win. But I was a contender, with two metropoli.

Finding out about Pho-Siam.I've been craving Thai massage ever since I stepped on the plane to leave Thailand a few years ago. Aaaahhhhhh ...

Running my fingers through my almost-dry hair.

Life is good.

Celebrating Valentine's

Valentine's Day. Also known as Single Awareness Day. Also known as Yet Another Commercial Holiday To Celebrate In One Day That Which Should Be Celebrated Every Day. There have been times when I have felt like this ...



However, this is not one of those years. This year, although quiet, has been very nice.

Took Spork out to dinner last night. As part of his continuing research on Ramen shops, we tried Chabuya on Sawtelle. Nice atmosphere. Yummy croquettes. Toppings on the ramen were delicious, but the actual ramen noodles were a bit eclectic for my taste. And almond jello. Grilled him on everything. Climbing the ladder at work ... exciting things on the horizon. Fitness. Love life. Travel plans. Personal financial plans. Actually, grilling may be overstating the case. He's so excited about so many things that the information flowed like lava. Some big sisterly advice. I'm just so happy to see him with so many good options.

Finished cleaning out the stuff in the garage. Everything but the extra set of dishes that I hope to loan to Bork and Genie this summer.

Went with Wonder Woman to see Music and Lyrics. And I can emphatically recommend that you NOT see it. Yeaaaahhhh, it was really awful. But I did a room-mate-ly thing for Valentine's, and what can be more ubiquitous than seeing a romantic comedy on VD? To make up for the absolute loss of 96 minutes of our lives, we went and got food from Clementine's.

Received several electronic Valentine's cards from friends near and far.

Won at Catan last night. Okay, okay ... not central to Valentine's, but it made me feel really good.

And my first ever regular mail-delivered Valentine. Cards and letters in the mail seem so nostalgic and yet even more real. Reminds me of the letters I would write back in college, back before I got my first email account. Choosing stationary. Writing ... splaying my thoughts and feelings onto paper in my own hand. Addressing, stamping and sending my letter across the land like a messenger bird. Waiting for a reply. The pricks of joy at finding "real mail" mixed in with the bills and advertisements. Repeating the whole cycle. And as much as I love the immediacy and documentation of gmail, it just doesn't compare with the simultaneously earthy and heavenly sensations of real mail.

Anyhow, this Valentine's has been a collection of small celebrations. And instead of feeling like the guy at the vending machine, I feel more like this ...

Good day with intermittent ridiculous spots

Woke up early … again. 0500. Tiptoed into the living room to watch some tv. But I forgot something in my bedroom, and as I tiptoed back in, JLITH was coming out of the bathroom. Ridiculous to both be awake when there was no where to be. JLITH fell asleep watching HGTV, and I crept back into bed for some more reading.

Went out for some more Vitamin D at 0830. Walked and talked in the mild sunshine that’s peculiar to Los Angeles winters. Got over to Clementine’s, and realized I’d forgotten my wallet.

Returned to apartment and drove over to The Massage Company for our 1000 appointments. A deep tissue massage for me, with Lupe; and a Swedish massage for JLITH, her very first ever professional massage. Since Lupe knew me, she had me go back and get ready while JLITH was finishing the new client form. Sixty minutes later, some pretty intense knots having been worked loose, I emerged into the bright foyer to find JLITH perusing a magazine.

“So, how was it?”
‘Well … Lisa just got here ten minutes ago.’
“What?!?!?!?!”
‘Apparently there was some family emergency. And she just got here.’
“Are you kidding me? And she didn’t start your massage immediately?”
‘Well, we’ve got all that other stuff to do. And you can get 50% off the next time you come.’
“But the whole point of coming was to get you a massage!”

And so on. Huge disappointment. Lisa is blackballed in my mental filofax for not notifying the office until 1030 that she was going to be late, not arriving until 1050, and not starting immediately on JLITH. Suzie always taught us that if you’re going to be 10 minutes late, to always call ahead. It’s the polite thing to do.

Day got better after that. Drove out to the Third Street Promenade. Parked and walked down to the end of the pier because JLITH wanted to see Big Wave Jump Jump. Something so exceptionally soothing about large bodies of blue water. Lunch at La Salsa.

Back at the apartment, I jumped in the shower while JLITH indulged in some more home decorating shows. Was so relaxed after my shower that I indulged myself with a short nap. Or was it a long nap? Anyway, we left for the homestead later than I’d anticipated. No time for a Franklin Store visit. Got home with about 10 minutes for changing and primping before I had to leave for Arcadia.

Speakeasy moved the week before to the Arcadia Blue’s Café. The only thing I’d heard is that the floor was small, but that didn’t seem like a large impediment, especially since the Derby has a front dance floor the size of a handkerchief. Arrived just about on time, and pretty soon Socrates rambled down the street to join me.

Xray and Katherine taught a beginning blues lesson. Interesting to see how they explain the technique, since I’ve never really taken a “blues” class. Socrates picked up the material easily, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. And then Teddy Lee Hooker was playing, and his fabulous sound was filling the space. And it quickly became apparent that this venue was drastically different than Yesteryears. The crowd moved and swayed, but stayed glued to their seats. It was the queerest thing … like the time Wonder Woman, White Boy and I went to see Big Bad Voodoo Daddy at the House of Blues. The band was putting out tune after tune of fabulously danceable music, and people just didn’t dance. Incredibly bizarre. There was one older couple who danced everything from west coast swing, to rhumba and cha-cha. And there a pair of girls who danced with each other and a smattering of random guys. But even Xray and Katherine didn’t dance much. Socrates and I danced a bit, but I didn’t want to push him to dance a lot in front of a crowd, since I know it can be uncomfortable.

Did one fast song with Xray, and I queried him about the transition from Pomona to Arcadia. Sad to say, turns out that one lindy dancer had been very disappointed in the venue, and sent around a mass email saying that ABC was awful, and that lindy dancers shouldn’t waste their time. Ouch. So incredibly short-sighted and mean-spirited. I felt bad for Xray, since he’s put so much effort into building a blues dance community here.

Coco Montoya was the headliner band of the night. I didn’t think it could get much better than TLH, but Montoya was amazing on the guitar. I would love to hear him again, especially when he isn’t hobbled by a sore throat.

So, Speakeasy. Yes, I’d still recommend it. The lessons are well done. The bands are amazing. Food and drinks are available. And people can dance if they have a partner with them, and the moxie to dance in front of a bunch of non-dancers (not that I think ND’s care at all). So, if anyone is itching to dance on a Saturday night, and you’ve got some friends to bring along, I’d recommend the Speakeasy. And even if you’ve only got one friend, I’d still recommend it. Especially if the company is as congenial as … well, you know who.

(Career) Woman Interrupted

I posted this over at X2 today. Some interesting responses so far. The thing is, I don't know how I would react to being a stay at home mother. Would I love it? Would I tear my hair out? Would working one day a week be enough to keep my sanity if I started to lose my grip? I don't know. And I'm not entirely convinced that I can know until I'm actually facing the situation head on. Of course, this is all academic. I'm still single. I have no children. And I seem to constantly be looking for ways to cut back on my hours at work. But I take comfort in the fact that there are many different answers to the question of how to balance family and work. And that even a man as traditional as my father was able to carefuly listen when my mother approached him with her issues, and that they were able to find a solution together.

Hairy issues

I walk into my bathroom and sigh. And stoop. And sweep … the hair that seems to fall in greater volume as I go to greater lengths. And the big question rears its ugly head. To chop or not to chop?

I tend to be bipolar with my hair. I think it’s my sister’s fault. Up until I was five years old, I had relatively long hair. Which my mother would comb into precisely parted ponytails or braids, and even curl on special occasions. However, when my sister arrived on the scene, I suddenly found myself a shorn girl … a la Dorothy Hamill. Apparently taking care of three children took precedence over my personal beauty issues. Anyway, Hamill-esqe hair is cute and fine as long as you’re doing tightly spinning turns on the ice, but not so much for those of us more cement-bound people. Although I do have some vague memories of spending a lot of time spinning around … whether to get the most out of my haircut, or to get that delicious, almost-falling-to-the-ground-unbalanced sensation, I don’t remember.

The intervening years have been a confused cycle of growing my hair out, then chopping it off on a whim (or when I got tired of sweeping ... or pulling it out of my vacuum's rollers). Not that I’ve ever gone to extremes … never past the mid back, or shorter than a typical boy haircut from the 80’s. Sometimes I think I just like figuring out ways to adjust to it as it grows out.

I spend an embarrassing amount of money on my hair (but Shears is really talented). I figure it’s worth it to get it cut well … good cuts last longer, and grow out better. Plus, it’s better for my ahem personal beauty issues. I go back and forth on the highlights. Every few years I tire of them and go completely dark. And a few years later I start wanting the variegation, and get them back. Probably not a good thing, but it keeps some of the hair demons at bay. Then again, my hair has seen years of peroxide (junior high) and pool chlorine (high school and college) abuse.

And really, I’m LM when it comes to everyday hair wrangling. Every once in a while I’ll get out my steam rollers and do it up in a 1940’s style, but that’s a rarity. Mostly, it’s just there … pulled back in one of those plastic clips that have become ubiquitous since the 80’s. I generally blow dry my bangs, especially after a long conversation with Perky and Charming on the bonuses of bunning (drying front hair only and letting rear hair head dry in buns to give it a little wave for later … a point which had totally passed me by for the first three decades of my life).

I like the feel of my hair. I enjoy running my fingers through it and having it brushed or stroked. Especially when I have time to just let it air dry. There’s a magical point where it’s mostly, but not completely dry, when it just feels like silk. Aaaahhhh …

So, what to do? Chop? Not chop? I’m not sure. It’s a hairy question …

Random Saturday Ramblings

Woke up early … again. I seem to always wake up somewhere between 0545 and 0630, even on days when I’m not working. Even on days when I stayed up until 0330 the night before. This could get to be a problem. Luckily, I can usually get back to sleep if I need it. But still. It’s ridiculous.

When I woke up the second time, Perky had gotten up and was starting to sort through garage stuff. Huzzah! And she seemed okay to do it alone and not need a cheerleader. Huzzah Huzzah! I ended up cleaning off and sweeping the patio for an afternoon dance lesson. It’s been a long time, but the dance floor seems to be holding up very well.

Went out to get some Vitamin D … by taking a short walk in the sunshine. Was just going to walk through the neighborhood and look at houses, but ended up going over to Clementine’s. It was packed. Wished I’d brought a wallet, but as it was I could only longing gaze at the lovely soups, salads and quiches that the sidewalk diners were feasting on.

Back at the garage, things were going full-force. Such cleanliness! Killed a bunch more spiders, and got almost everything organized. All Wonder Woman’s boxed kitchen stuff now neatly organized. Next thing to do is organize all the serving platters, etc. Camping and emergency equipment shelved and organized. Cobwebs and dust swept away. Perky’s garage sale items amassed in the center, awaiting becoming someone else’s stuff. So purgingly wonderful.

Socrates (so-named because of a penchant for asking awkward questions and speculating wildly) arrived in the afternoon for a swing dancing lesson. I always wonder why more guys don’t take up dancing. In fact, most men seem to have made up their minds that they don’t dance well. Which is ridiculous. Most people haven’t ever tried partner dancing (doing a slow bear hug in a circle to “Somebody” by Depeche Mode doesn’t count). And even if they have, it takes a while to do it well. The first time I tried swing dancing (in college, at a FHE activity), I think I was so bad that no one wanted to dance with me. And this was during my extra-cute phase!

Anyway, I have a theory about men not liking to dance. I think that somewhere along the line, probably in junior high school or thereabouts, some girl they had a crush on, told them that they danced like a dork. And so, they were crushed by their crush, and refused to dance forever more. Which is sad. Since the girl probably had a crush right back on the boy. But then, where would we be without awful pubescent stories to share? Wait … don’t answer that.

The color code. No ... the other one

So, Gwynn invited me to a Pre-Valentine’s, Clear Intentions party. The invitation made me laugh.

‘The party is color coded, so please dress according to the color guidelines. You must wear ONE COLOR ONLY pants can be the exception), with one accessory color … it’s a “clear intentions” party, people!! You cannot show up rainbow colored, even if you are gay. Apologies for the crudeness J …

RED: happily taken
BLACK: where’s the booze?
ORANGE: looking to casually date
GREEN: horny/ just looking for someone for tonight … use your imagination
PURPLE: need a spooning buddy (while watching Battlestar Galactica … this one is for Mandy)
BLUE: broken and on the rebound, proceed with caution
WHITE: looking for a relationship
YELLOW: just here to meet new friends … awwww
PINK: swinger (non-dancing related)’

And really, I don’t know Mandy, and I don’t want to spoon with her. But I wore purple … if only to bond with the other BSG’ers..

Liked the party early on. Although it was strange … sitting and talking with people from whom I generally only want one thing. These girls who are all friends from a Baptist university out in Riverside. One guy who’s in a neuroscience grad program at USC … and the rather unlucky, non-dancing schoolmate that he brought along. Trying to talk football and failing miserably (running back versus wide receiver?), Melissa’s birthday, and she’s a tender 18! This other group who went to India. And so on. Uncomfortable to chitchat, but satisfying to find interesting details.

Words are insufficient

Went out dancing last night. Got my fix. Hmmm ...

I have a hard time explaining swing dancing to people. Most people get some really lame vision of east coast swing in their minds when I talk about swing dancing. Something like this. And when I say lame, I don't mean the dancers are lame. Obviously they're beginners, and everyone has to start somewhere. They're only lame if that is where they stay forever.

Or, for those who may have a little knowledge about Harlem, they may picture something like this, which are Whitey's Lindy Hoppers at the height of savoy style. Incredibly athletic and not how I see myself dancing in my wildest dreams.

The last time I searched, I found this clip, which I rather liked. It represents west coast swing, but the stylings at lindy groove are a hybrid between the first and second dance. Without all the hair flipping. And, as much as I hate the song, I like this routine a lot.

But, this morning I found two more gems.

This one was good. No idea where it was from. Mostly lindy infused with blues. What I'd likely see at Lindy Groove or Speakeasy Blues. (Note: when I dream about dancing, I dance like Emily H.)

And, for those of you who may be interested in blues dancing, it can look like this (Rhythmic Arts Festival Blues competition). I liked the first and last couples. Although, I rarely see as much dragging as the first couple did. However, most of the dancing had a hefty dose of lindy in it. And, there are some of the same dancers as in the previous clip.

So, if a picture is worth a thousand words, is a video clip worth a million? Well, with such low resolution, I might have to knock it down to 500,000.

Talking about marriage ...

(I know that Pilgrimgirl posted about these rings a while ago. And I remember telling her about seeing them in a catalogue before she and Nichan got married. And I wonder if she'd told me if she'd already seen them, or if I was the one who introduced them to the rings

At DOT*, Nichan spoke about Changing Expectations of Marriage. Since we’re using the Doctrines of the Gospel Institute manual to structure the discussions this quarter, I guess it could loosely come under the lesson on the Importance of Family. However, Nichan also borrowed heavily from his own experience and from an article that came out in the November 2006 issue of Sunstone, “For Better, For Worse, For Apostacy?: How Faith Issues Affect Couple Relationships.”

The article was actually the transcript from a SLC Sunstone conference session, which I attended, and found amazingly poignant. I came away with the distinct impression that, as long as both partners could maintain the love and respect that were the bases of the marriage in the first place, that the marriage ought to be maintained as well. There are very few things that I believe are cause for divorce … physical or emotional abuse, infidelity, and trying to escape the laws of the land are the few I can think of right now. Of course, I wish more people thought long and hard and clearly about getting married in the first place. Avoiding mistakes is much better than trying to fix them after the fact. The ounce of prevention, etc etc.

That being said, not everything can be predicted. I’m sure the couples in the article, Nichan and Pilgrimgirl, and others who contributed their personal experiences to the discussion last night had no idea what types of faith challenges would materialize months, years and decades from their courtship period, and how it would affect their marriages.

The one message that stood out to me from last night is the need for really good communication. Before and during. Talking about everything. Assumptions. Desires. Plans. What is needed by each person. What is wanted. What is realistic. What is hoped for. That and being flexible. I tend to think that most things can be successfully negotiated. Of course there are some things that aren’t. In which case it’s good to find out what they are before it’s too late.

Superman and Precious are the best case for this that I know of. Someday I’m going to have to ask Superman where he got that comprehensive book of questions that they perused together in the months before their marriage. Moods. Finances. Leisure activities. Child bearing and rearing. Sex. One silly but possibly relevant set of questions that stuck out in my mind: Do you follow any particular sports teams? Do wins or losses significantly affect your mood? For how long? This line of questioning wasn’t even really on my horizon, but could potentially be very important to someone who is heavily invested in sports.

And, it was very nice to hear from the elder statescouple about how well their marriage has turned out, despite the changes in how they viewed themselves and each other, and what seemed to help. They call it dumb-stupid-luck. Whatever it is, it seems to have worked marvelously for them.

*Given the recent storm over controversial names, I’m just going to refer to the Wednesday night discussion group as DOT: Discussions on Theology. Journeygal has already aptly described it as,” a group of people with various-levels-of-religiosity who are in one way or another interested in Mormonism, and get together to respectfully discuss doctrine and practice within an intent to promote faith and understanding.” However, as that is really long, and not acronymn-able, I’ll just refer to it as DOT. Nice. Short. Inoffensive. I hope.

I'm not warm or fuzzy ... or fuNNy

The other day a friend was upset that one of her bosses said that she wasn’t very warm. This was interesting to me, since I think of her as passionate and involved. However, her job is so demanding, that I can see how it would suck the ability to share warmth with others right out of her bones. Anyway, I told her not to worry about it too much. But maybe I’m biased, since I’ve gotten the same type of comment from the manager who does my yearly evaluations, although probably in a much gentler fashion.

I don’t get emotionally involved at work. I’m not one of those touchy-feely nurses who wants to sit and talk about feelings for hours on end. At work, I like to have really sick patients. And it I can’t have a really sick patient, I’ll settle for one who’s intubated and sedated. I especially don’t like to have patients whose parents are a mess. Which I understand is unfair. Any parent whose child is in the ICU would probably be a mess. However, when it gets to the point that I’m spending more time dealing with the parents’ emotional problems than the actual patient, is when I get really, really irritated. (BTW, I’d like to send a shoutout to the PICU social workers. Love them. Especially this week. Major interventions with two crazy families).

So, I don’t tend to get involved in my patients’ emotional lives. There are a couple of Extra Nice Nurse things I like to do … French braid the girls’ hair (those who have long hair, are mobile enough, and will be in bed for a long time), sing (when there’s no one else in the room), and hold fussy but consolable babies … but these are secondary to actually providing requisite care, and generally only happen when there is time to do such extras. My main concerns are making sure patients are stable, safe, comfortable and clean, and keeping the parents educated and informed.

Another not-really-related thing I’ve noticed … I’m not very funny, and I’m not very invested in fun.

I’m not a very funny person. I have a hard time telling jokes. Sometimes I don’t think other people’s jokes are very funny. I don’t like American stand-up comedy. In fact, I don’t like stand-up in general. Except Eddie Izzard. And only really in Dressed to Kill and Glorious (We went to see him live in LA a couple of years ago, but I was too astounded by the fake boobs and the crotch-high slit skirt to pay much attention to what was coming out of his mouth). Except that it’s mostly because he’s clever. Not to say that he’s not funny, but I like him because he’s clever and witty.

Which leads to me next point. I’m not very invested in fun, for fun’s sake. This may seem like splitting hairs, but I’m just not interested in just having fun. I like to do interesting and fulfilling things, and find a measure of fun in them. But I don’t do them because they’re fun … I do them because they’re interesting and/or fulfilling. Take iceskating. And no, I’m not very good at it (and it's been a while since I've been). However, I started doing it because I wanted to strengthen my ankle after the snowboarding accident (and no, I’m not good at snowboarding either). I continued with the iceskating because it got me out of the summer heat, and because I could feel how it strengthened my body in general. And because I liked finding ways to move to the music. Yes, it was fun, but that was the least of the draws.

And maybe what I’m really trying to say is that I don’t trust “fun.” I have many fun people in my life. And I enjoy them immensely. But when it comes down to getting things done, I generally can’t rely on the fun part of their nature to do those things. Or rather, I have to come up with fun angles to get them to do those things that need to be done.

So, I’m not fun. I can live with that. Now, let’s go out and have an interesting and fulfilling time.

It's not easy being green

Kermit was right. It’s not easy being green.

A while ago, Pilgrimgirl posted a link to a site to measure one’s eco-footprint. I didn’t even look at the link, because I knew my footprint would be huge. And I didn’t really want to think about it.

However, the other week I stumbled upon this post by Artemis over at FMH, and I knew it was time to, “Take It To The Next Level.” Reading over how people are pointedly changing their behavior to have less impact on the earth made me feel so incredibly wasteful and selfish.

One of the issues that really struck me was water conservation. I remembered how severely we all tried to conserve water during the drought in southern California in the early 90’s. Taking short showers with water saving shower heads. Dying lawns. Looming threat of wildfires. Putting filled and sealed jars of water in the toilet ranks to use less water with each flush. Bigfoot intoning, “Yellow is mellow, brown is down.” I’m sure there are more and better ideas out there, but that is what I remember doing. And yet, I no longer do these things. I’ve returned to my old habits.

So, I’m trying to be better.

I got two canvas bags from Trader Joe’s to use in place of paper or plastic. I keep them in my trunk. And every once in a while, I remember to get them out before I’ve gotten to the store front, thus avoiding the sheepish trek back and forth.

I’ve gotten a recycling container to keep next to the kitchen trash, and am educating roommates and friends to place bottles and cans inside. At this point, there is no convenient place to take them for recycling. However, I do as Wilson does, and leave them in a drawstring bag for the trashbin scavengers (this sounds like a very pejorative term, but I am really grateful that there are such people, and happily contribute to their financial welfare and to conservation).

I’m turning off lights. I’ve been really bad about falling asleep with the light on, etc. However, with the new room arrangement, and by digging out an old extension switch, I’ve rigged up a reading light that’s easy to manipulate, and I’m getting better.

I’m taking my meals to work. So, I’m not eating at the cafeteria, eating better food, and not using Styrofoam, plastic covers, and plastic utensils every day. I bring a bowl and silverware from home. Confess that I do also bring frozen dinners for lunch. The next goal is to get back into cooking more … but that’s not on this level.

And, I’m trying to get things fixed in the apartment. Things like cracked windows, non-working plugs, doors, etc, that will lead to better insulation and less natural as usage. Because our bill this last month was $216!

And, we’re getting rid of the land telephone line. All of us have cellular phones, and paying $15 each a month for telemarketers to leave annoying messages is just not working for me. Really, that’s a full-price movie and small popcorn once a month … if I were so inclined.

So, I’ll start from here. It’s not easy being green. But I’m trying.

Yataaaaa! Yakuza power!

The usual suspects over for gaming. Catanning was, well, hmmm. Either it was irritating, or I was irritated. Either way, I didn’t win any games. Hmmph.

Then we transitioned to Family Business. And I have to say, the part-Japanese-ers kicked trash. FGITW and I were a powerful coalition. Yakuza power in action. Whiteboy was part of the power for a while, but then he defected over to Wonder Woman and Gadget Boy. And we still beat them. Until the last game. By which time it was past midnight. Way past my bedtime, and on a “school (read: work) night” to boot.

Drip and drizzle

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I have a cold. Yesterday, as we cleaned the garage during the rain, it only felt like I was getting one. But this morning it arrived full force. Right as I was labeling the last of my blog posts. After getting up several times to blow my nose, I admitted defeat. I have a cold.

So, I lay on my large white chair, and settled in. Blanket. Roll of tissue. The Secret Life of Bees. Started and didn’t stop (aside from the periodic blowing of the nose) until I’d reached the end. Sometimes predictable. But lovely. And comforting. And stirring. Entrancing. It made me want to visit Carolina in the summer. Even though I hate hot and humid weather, and especially mosquitoes. All these disincentives seemed trivial compared to the finding of one’s healing place, where secret hurts are released and souls are made whole again. Lovely, lovely book. A good one to start 2007 with.

Doings on a Rainy Saturday

Converted this blog to the new google format. Not that I actually had a choice. Either I hit an inadvertent key, or they were forcing my hand. I think it’s the latter. But I really do like the new format. And spent about 90 minutes labeling past posts.

Entered my garage. Four hours later, it’s a new place. Killed about 25 spiders of various sizes. Swept the largest collection of mouse droppings I have ever seen in my life. Saw one black widow spider. Threw away myriad cans of expired foods. I felt horrible looking at our dumpster. In my defense, the food wasn’t mine … and as much of it was gourmet-ish stuff, I didn’t feel like I could dispose of it without the owner’s permission. But still, I felt bad. However, on the whole, I think the joy of purging the garage just outweighs the sorrow at so much waste.

Nichan, Gameboy and JHW came over for a chat after an anti-war march (rally?) downtown. Interesting to hear their stances on the issue. I still feel so muddled about it all. Paralyzed by indecision. At least that’s one thing I have in common with US politicians.

Over to Pizzicotto for dinner. Che meraviglioso e delizioso! Warm spinach salad, pumpkin gnocchi, the risotto special, and porkchop with polenta. Eaten family style, of course. Lots and lots of carbs. Mmm mmm mmm. I just love it there. Yes, Brentwood may now be overflowing with Italian restaurants, but Pizzicotto is the place for me. Being in the neighborhood also reminded me of Sammie, who is getting married soon. Saw her the other week, and was heartglad to see her so happy.

Then to Borders. Wandered around laughing at ridiculous books, and hungering after good ones. At one point my friend pointed to two books about Lewis and Clark: the Dummies’ Guide, and one more obscurely named.

F: Now which one would you choose. The one with the boring title? Or the one with the insulting title?
Me: Knowing you know nothing is the beginning of knowledge. Er, wait … the beginning of wisdom. Knowing you know nothing is the beginning of wisdom, grasshopper.
F: And the end of wisdom is dumb.

And that was the last thing I heard before the giggles took over …

Ended up getting The Secret Life of Bees. I know it’s one of Madwoman’s favorites, and I’ve been meaning to read it.

I love being blue

No, I don’t mean being depressed. I love dancing to the blues. Gwynn told me about an event her housemate was putting on. And it was only then that I realized that this was the same thing Xray had been forwarding emails about. So, I went.

Do Something Blue. Actually, it’s not a regular venue. Apparently Tracy sets up various events where and when she can. Some for workshops, some for dances. Tonight’s dance was at a lovely little venue out in La Crescenta. Small. Intimate. Okay floor. There were a few faces I recognized. A bit more I didn’t.

My “starter” dance was with Arlene. This may sound startling to some, but it’s not too bizarre. Once a dancer has gotten to a certain point, many try to learn the opposite role, be it lead or follow, in order to become a stronger dancer. I rather have the same philosophy about gender roles, but that’s another topic. Arlene is a rather late-middle-aged woman, a bit soft about the middle, who (among other things), teaches children to dance. Anyway, as she was a bit shorter than me, her ample bossom lay just below my un-ample one. And she was soft there too, in a good way. And I wished that I was ample too. Not enough to actually get a boob job. But enough that if I had the power to, I’d grow myself up a size (and maybe even an additional half).

However, a couple dances with Arlene was enough to convince the local danseurs. I had the most fun dancing with Arthur (who is visiting via Philadelphia before resettling in Austin), and Tim (the youngster with the amazing turns and locks). Met some new people, danced with some older pals, and loved watching Macho Bruno, Zena, and LitheOne.

Also had an aha moment. There were a couple people who I knew frequent Lindy Groove, and they’re okay dancers, but always just a little awkward. As I watched them fabulously doing the blues, I realized that they must have started with blues and transitioned to lindy, and not the other way around. Blues really is their home.

Anyway, for those of you who may be reading, I highly recommend blues dancing. It’s much more forgiving than lindy … in tempo, in body wear and tear, in dance form, in just about everything. Patience and balance. And a few body rolls and pulses if you like …

On getting the snarkiness out

The past two days were icky ones. Really smelly patients. Hectic and annoyingly busy patients and parents. Three transfers cancelled … and that was just in the room of four that I worked in. Ick.

After work I had to wipe myself down just to get the ick off. Changed. Primped a little. And was on my way to Lindy Groove for some dance therapy. Was so sensory overloaded that I made the trip in total silence. Not even the voluptuous repetition of “Prepositions and Other Useful Words” in French.

Up at LG, I put my things away, and sat for a minute or two in the usual spot, chatting with PlumbCheery.

A woman sat next to me and said, “Excuse me, I need to get to my water bottle.” No problem, I thought. We all deposit our things along the periphery, and need to retrieve things once in a while. So, I started to turn so she could reach past me. At which point she maneuvered me out of my seat and took it over. I had to laugh, and I shot her an amused but questioning glance, which earned me the reply of, “Oh, I put my sweater here to mark my seat.”

To which I archly (and piquantly, as you may imagine) ruminated, “Oh, I didn’t realize we were reserving seats now.” And went off to dance with PC. It was rather bizarre. At LG, there are no “reserved seats.” There are people who tend to sit most of the night, but that really just defeats the purpose of going out to dance, now doesn’t it. There are tables for birthday celebrations (which are free, and which come with a grocery store cake), but even those usually devolve as the night wears on.

Anyway, as we were about to start dancing, I asked PC if I’d been really obnoxious. Actually, I stated, not asked. He gave me one of his cheery smiles and said, “Well, I understood why you said it.”

So, straight away after the song, I approached the woman (who is probably my own age … fancy that, I’m a woman) to make amends. Turns out that she comes from tango dancing, where seating is apparently more rigid. Seems she is relieved to be switching from milonga to lindyjam. We both laughingly made our apologies and parted with good will. Hopefully she won’t spend too much time in “her” seat.

I should probably note that tonight was LG’s first ever lindy competition. The first place couple (I don’t know their names) were good. Entertaining and good musicality. Even if I’m not a Savoy fan. Second place were Nick Williams and Kristin Sorci. And they are good dancers (for those in the know, they are the ones who trained the Dmitri and Donyelle for the lindy routine on SYTYCD), but didn’t really sparkle tonight. Personally, I would not have ranked them. And in third place were Jeremy Otth and Sarah Whatserbucket, who are not regular partners, and were entertaining, but not great. Really, Julius and Holly should have won. And they might have, if Julius hadn’t fallen on his tush while doing a slide drop. Even now I can’t help but giggle. Also of note were Katya (getting every break with a bang) and Gio and MaeLae (for the swivels with the lead slides … they were hot).

Got home and was still amped up. Watched Grey’s Anatomy and Men in Trees before I was relaxed enough to shower and climb in to bed … about 0300. Sometimes it just feels good to return to my nocturnal roots. And thus was the snarkiness expelled.