Sunday, March 29, 2009

Whoa. Here She Comes!

Breakfast: apple
water

Lunch: large salad with strawberries and balsamic vinaigrette
one cup white & brown rice combo
1 cup cornbeef and tomato
water

Snack: small slice of Dutch crunch demi loaf, heavily buttered (yummm)

Currently baking a yam in my Toast-R-Oven. I had hoped my bread-and-butter snack would tide me over until dinner, but I'm still wanting food.

Dinner: large green salad with two large strawberries, pecans, raisins, and balsamic vinaigrette
two large mushroom pizza slices from Lanesplitters
water
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Thursday, March 26, 2009

Let's Go

I'm one sick puppy these days. I've been feeling under the weather, I met one friend for what I had hoped would be a quick, catch-up-with-each-other's-lives brunch and it became this bizarre all-day romantic date-like situation, exploring the many beautiful mysteries of the Mission District of SF. She's so lovely. And that's never going to happen. Never felt compelled to hook up with players. And after that experience all my attempts to fight off the bug went kaputz. The next day I became full-blown ill. When it was time to take our quiz in anatomy yesterday at 8:30 pm, my symptoms suddenly got worse. My nose started to rain upon my paper, my throat began to throb with pain, my head exploded into violent noisy static. After spending that whole day trying unsuccessfully to appear hygienic and lady-like in dealing with my cold I shoved tissue into both my nostrils and struggled to concentrate on my quiz. I am hoping for a B. My first B in this class. It is depressing. I have a bad feeling I might have done worse (C? Please, Jeezus, not a D!). Oh well. I need to forgive myself. I'm sick as hell.

Even in my sick state I went to belly dancing today cuz I didn't want to miss out on any new choreography. My teacher told me to try and dance with the group if I felt inclined. Whenever I did I put one hand on my mouth in my attempts not to breathe on anyone. I just love belly dancing. It makes me damn happy. Every time I go I feel this bizarre sense of peace.

Mom and I agree that "Dancing with the Stars" is pure happiness. I think dance = joy. I have a soft spot for the classical dances. And latin dances--of course! But hip hop is always insane happiness too when I remember how it feels to take a hip hop class. Dance is just joy, in general. It's just the dumb egos, insecurities, and physical restraints/injuries that get in the way.

I remember what it was like when I was part of that junior salsa dance team oh so long ago. There was lame drama all right. But there were also moments of unbridled joy and absolute magic. I will always remember this one moment at Let's Dance LA. We were over there for some performance night. Something. There was a dance party going on, and there were snacks and goodies in the back. The sexy female professionals were walking around in their false eyelashes, heavily tanned and tight bodies, rhinestoned and glittery and whore-like make up. Their sexy partners strutted around in an exaggerated performance of masculinity (In tight spandex-y outfits!), all rippling muscles and attitude. I was 14 or 15, awkward, goofy, wearing heinous foundation that never matched, glasses that often careened off my face when my partner spun me, and teeth covered in braces. There was Moreno, who was younger than me, sort of a macho, and very cute and full of attitude. I was always intimidated by him because he was a much better dancer, and he seemed so much more street-smart and cocky. But as we stared at the food section, staring at the cookies and punch, salivating and excited at all the sugary possibilities, he looked up at me over hooded eyes, and locked eyes with mine. He smiled this mischievous smile that said, "We're going to eat this entire table." It was such a sweet moment because he never smiles, I always thought he was such a gangster, and it was also around the time I decided that he was an official cutie. Kind of a big deal because I had a hard time admitting to myself I had crushes on boys at that age (Oooh! Scandalous!). The smile was magic because I had no idea if he liked me or not. He always kept his face blank--almost bored. This dude was always hard. And you know me, I'm always this clownish smiling, open-mouthed creature...even worse at 14. I always worried he thought I was a bit of a nuisance with my horrific dancing (compared to him!) and my un-tough and naive personality. So that smile revealed to me what I had started to suspect all along: he liked me. Not like that (well, maybe a little!!! I somehow charmed a few guys at that age, even with my horrific outward appearance)...just in a "the girl's all right!" kinda way. Well. It felt like a flirty smile. I enjoyed it too much!

There's just something really cute about a guy who looks so tough and menacing...who secretly can dance as if he was born that way. He was the best lead of all the guys, I never felt grossed out when I danced with him. His mom always forced him to dance with his sisters and so he knows how to hold girls with respect and with perfect amount of distance. When he danced he glided across the dance floor. I wouldn't be surprised if he's covered in tats and is a total player now. He joined his mom and his sisters to clean houses because they were so hard up. His mom would force him and his sisters to learn dances and perform in public. I think his mom saw it as their ticket out of the hard life. There was always something gritty and tight about that family. They never fucked around. Those kids didn't have much of a childhood. It's the opposite of me and my naive ass. I wonder what he is doing now. Maybe he is a professional salsa instructor! That would be heaven. He was such a cutie patootie!
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Thursday, March 12, 2009

Good Girl

I just realized I haven't had Ramen since the year began. *Gives self a pat on the back and a large sticker*
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