Ketch-up

I tell ya. You leave blogging for a few months and they go and change the format on you. So excuse me if the newer posts look a bit messy while I'm learning the ropes.

I used to wonder why there were so many abandoned blogs out there, and the reason is this: life. I don't know how people write those kinds of blogs where they focus on one thing and post several times a week. Seriously, you wouldn't think that one person could have that many things to say about make-up, or crock pot cooking, or... I don't know... pygmy goats.

So aside from deciding that I just can't narrow down the life that affects my blogging, here's what's happened since March 12th:

Testing the waters and the suite in Lake Superior

 - My nieces are on the brink of turning two and five. The older one is convinced that she wants her ears pierced and her mother is letting her go through with it. I've been invited to see the piercing, but I'm not sure I can manage it. I know there will be screaming and crying, and have a running bet going with my husband that my niece will either come away with no, or only one, ear piercing.

 - I tried a pole dancing class and discovered that I hate pole dancing. I had one hour-long lesson and it took me about a week to recover from the bruises and metal burns all over my arms and legs, and the pain in my back muscles. I now have a bit more respect for pole dancers than I did before (those ladies are true athletes), but I have less need to go see a show now.

 - We bid on two houses in the last few months and have been outbid both times. This is, without a doubt, the most frustrating part of home-searching.

 - On a happier note, my bike is fixed up! I got new tires and no longer have to worry about tire rot making them explode. To celebrate I biked to work the last few weeks of April (about a 2hr ride round trip). I also just got new wheels, so the bike doesn't cry rust at every turn. The next bit will be replacing the brake system and getting someone else to wrap the handlebars (I apparently  don't have the patience to do them better than a ten year old, so they look a little ratty.).

 - My husband is now an ordained minister with the Universal Life Church and is booked up for two weddings. He got the certificate in the mail back in April and it proudly sits amongst his desk clutter with the rule of, "Watch out for my minister certificate! It's holy!" If the state of Wisconsin actually cared about who married whom then I might worry a bit more about the state of the certificate. As it stands, however, I'm pretty sure one of those pygmy goats could do it and it'd be legal.

 - I finished reading No Impact Man by Colin Beavan and have since started reevaluating exactly how much waste I produce. I had a bad sinus infection the week I finished it, and, feeling quite guilty about the amount of cough drop wrappers and used Kleenex adorning my garbage can, I sewed up some handkerchiefs out of fabric scraps. I've also been checking around town to see where I can get things in bulk. Seeing as this is a new obsession with me, I'll update everyone on these new discoveries as I go. Things to come: glass straws, the most awesome washing machine ever, adventures with straight razors, and toilet toys.

Now I suppose the only thing left is to see how many days go by before my next post... well, interesting post. Should this attempt to jump back on the horse last only a month or so, giggling and rolling of eyes is absolutely in order.

How to say "f-ing cold" in Arabic

I've been doing this bellydance thing for over five years now. So this weekend I'm bemoaning the fact that I don't know absolutely everything (this takes ALOT of bemoaning), and it occurs to me that I should learn Arabic. Alas, I'm already seeing that there might be some cultural complications in learning the language. For example, I can say hello (ah-lan), nice to meet you (forsa-sa-ee-dah), and peace be with you (moalakum-salam... or something to that extent). However, I can't yet say, "My apologies good sir for my state which is fucking freezing. I would like to save you from drowning in icebergs, but my feet have succumb to hypothermia in the last few seconds, and are now embedded in that ice cave, you betcha der ey."

While Madison quickly lept into the upper 50's last week, Hurley was still dwindling in the lower 20's. I'm sorry. It was dwindling in the 20's when I was protected by trees. Most people who experience the particular type of cold available near lakes end up saying, "I can't feel my face!" No, no foolish southerners. The problem next to Lake Superior is that you can feel your face way too much. There is an excess of face. And it is painful.

Not only is this face pain an indicator of just how cold it is out there, but so are the ice cliffs that have formed at the shoreline. As the waves come in water begins to solidify. Give this a few weeks, and ten foot walls have formed at the shore. The result is that most people not familiar with the phenomenon will look at the snow and think it's solid rock; when, in actuality, it's fairly unstable chunks of ice. It makes for quite the sight, but the stupid, adventurous part of me was having an internal conflict - trying to decide exactly how stupid it would be to just crawl out to the edge and snap a few National Geographic level photos. I discussed this with my naturalist father-in-law. "Stupid", he said. Rats.

There's an unwritten rule of nature and motorized vehicles that says if a person washes their car it will rain in the next 24 hours. Apparently a similar rule exists for winter wear, because upon dropping $50 on some extremely warm mittens and cap, we witnessed 45 degree weather the next day. It is currently in the 60's here in Madison. Again. Rats.

Thankfully, the warming weather means that my new Arabic skills may become more useful. No doubt this summer I will be able to use the phrase, "Thanks be to God that my air conditioner has not broken down. Peace be upon you who are unfortunate enough to have had your thighs melt together from this unholy blaze." I think it might still be a while before I can say that one.

Dance vs. Dancer

It's been a relaxing weekend but the hard work is coming up tonight. Every year our bellydance club holds a spring show (one of the largest in the Midwest), and this year I'm in charge of choreographing the intermediate piece for our students. When I have a choreography in my head it always looks impeccable. And for reason the dancers are all the same height with brown hair. Hm. I need to get the Bellydance Superstars out of my head. :) When I see the dance actually done though, I think, "Wow. Performing is hard."

So many dancers start out thinking that dancing is in the moves. Sure, I've seen some dances that have the most amazing feats in the world added in. Full back bends. Flips. Double swords balanced on the head. Swords balanced on the tips of daggers. But the moves are never what makes a performance. I've seen dances with some beautiful choreographies, but the dancers look like they're performing under threat of death. If you've ever been to a beginner hafla, then you know what I'm talking about. They're those expressions that come from a dance leader saying over and over again, "SMILE, LADIES!" The dancers look everywhere from entrants into a Miss America pageant or staunchly staring down the back of the room even though their audience is right in front of them.

For the beginner pieces last year that was fine, but the intermediate piece demands so much more than that. The song we're dancing to is called "The Man Who Drinks". While I don't exactly know the lyrics (they're in Russian), I can tell by the upbeat sound that whichever man is drinking is pretty excited about it. This means that the dancers have to show excitement too. Teaching how to perform excited is very, very difficult. I have no idea how acting coaches do it.

What I do know is that for all the countless times I've screwed up when performing, it's always been my facial expressions that have saved me and kept me in the moment. And even if it was horribly obvious that I was doing something completely different from another performer, the audience looks at my face and sees what I want them to: "Oh! Silly me. Wasn't that cute that I totally planned to mess up!" "Why are you thinking I'm confused? I'm smiling just like nothing is wrong at all! These are not the droids you're looking for!"

I feel like mastering performing comes with time and confidence. Forcing it seems very difficult. But if I even manage to get one of those ladies to smile and straighten up for the whole dance at practice tonight, then I'll be happy. And come the show in a few weeks, I think the audience will be happy too. Well, that is if I can find a gypsy costume that doesn't make us look like happy-go-lucky pirate wenches.

Just to mess with Lilith

That's right. Just try to resist this face. Go on. Try. You can't, can you? You're ordering a bunny off Craigslist as we speak, aren't you? :P

My body, my castle and a bunny



The odd thing about this blog is that as I started to have less and less time for it, I found I had an increasing amount of time dedicated to my food journal, the gym, bellydancing, work, friends, family, bellydancing again, cooking, and more bellydance. And now that dance is taking over I find myself shifting back toward the virtual community.

If only I could describe my entire life with compared line graphs. I've actually been keeping track of my weight on a daily basis since December 28th (There, now you know what the last two months have all been about. I wasn't kidding when I said I was duking it out with my scale. Incidently, I won and it's been voodoo cursed by way of the dumpster.). While daily weigh-ins seem to be on the list of no-no's for most dieting tips & tricks, I actually find it very helpful when combined with Excel spreadsheets. It means I'm one of very few people I know who can gain a pound and still be happy because my 7-day average weight has decreased.

My January was a fairly productive month. Not too crazy, but not boring. The January line is a nice, healthy, slow decline in weight. February, on the other hand, came with several ten hour work days, incredible amounts of stress, lack of sleep, and bellydance that caused all of it. Needless to say, February looks a little bit like I had multiple seizures and before flat-lining and then remembering I had bellydance practice to get to and jumping back to life again.

Lines aside, though, I'm doing pretty good after all of it and am starting a new graph for March. Meanwhile, I'm still house hunting and trying to keep my apartment in some sort of livable condition until I can mess up a new habitat. The cleaning comes in preparation for a possible fuzzy new member to the family later in April. I've had the idea of a bunny in my head for the last year now. And it really did hop back in there recently when I went to the pet store with my friend only to have her yell, "IT'S SO ADORABLE! LOVE IT! HERE! TAKE IT! LOVE IT OR DIE!" Well, in so many words. I turned to see a fuzz bomb shoved about an inch from my face. I swear, dwarf bunnies should come with a warning label on their butts, "CAUTION: Do not make eye contact. Bunny is extremely fluffy and can cause inadverent widening of pupils, reverse aging to kindergarten, and sudden onset baby talk in otherwise competent adults."

My friends ended up buying her second bunny that day, so I managed to mooch of its cuteness until the urge to suprise my husband with a $40 animal, $100 cage, and $60 worth of food and bedding passed. 

Zeke the hamster is still going strong at almost 2 years old now. Pretty impressive for a dwarf hamster. He's sleeping alot more, but has developed a taste for smoothies. I give it to him right before I put him in the running ball... It's like giving 5 Hour Energy and a hammer to a four year-old.

Here's hoping everyone else has as much energy without the crash. And to those of you exercising your body into submission: keep it up, and seriously, keep a chart. If you're anal retentive it's the most fun you'll ever have since telling the other kindergarteners in your class that they couldn't use your coloring book because they'd color wrong.

A New Wiccan Holiday

I know I'm supposed to use January to wind down from Yule... wait, I'm sorry. I got that mixed up. Wind down from Christmas. Yule was delightfully relaxing. Not to mention a whomping good party. I maintain that if I were sitting in church on the solstice mumbling and fake-singing hymns and looked out the window to see the Pagans whooping it up around a bonfire with ice lanterns, huge puppets, drums, and hot chocolate & apple cider, I'd be the first one leaping over old ladies to get out the doors and join in (To my Christian readers: Yes, I feel that Pagans hold awesome parties. Alas, it's pretty amazing that we can get organized enough to even hold them. I believe that that ball of talent falls in the Christian court.). 

Despite all of that, and Imbolc coming up on February 2nd, I feel that we're missing a weight-loss holiday. "Poundakilowaya", we'll call it (to satisfy all metric and non-metric believers alike)! Upon waking on Poundakilowaya, all shall set up their altars around their scales. A banishing ritual shall be performed, after which point there shall be the reading of the set-up instructions by the Priestess, followed by the Priest chanting the sacred un-rhyme: 

Oh, Great Lord and Lady

May we cleanse our bodies

May we find harmony on the scale

And may we get this damned thing to show my BMI!

By the power of frickin' fire all to heck! Why is this thing blinking!?

All I want, Mighty Gods, is to see my weight!

What do you MEAN entry not recognized!?

Screw you evil electronic spawn of digital madness!!!

...Blessed Be.

The feasting shall begin, and end quickly as each participant finishes their quarter celery stick and Dixie cup of water. The morning ritual shall end with each participant stepping onto the scale and asking the gods to show mercy on them and their bodies for the coming year. This ritual shall be repeated again at lunch and dusk, or as is needed depending on the cruelty of said scale. 

Poundakilawaya shall also be celebrated by group visits to local YMCA's. Ellipticals shall be consecrated. Treadmills shall be cleansed. And weights, upon trying to be lifted but only being able to be moved one inch high enough to fall off the rack and be dropped on a foot, shall be left alone.

A High Priestess upon seeing that the Poundakilawaya ritual has worked.

A Merry Poundakilawaya to all who celebrate it this month of January. Know that I, my weight journal, celery sticks, and BMI scale are all right there with you.

P.S. I really do have TONS of photos from the last few months. The new computer's supposed to get here in about two weeks, so we'll see if HP comes through.

The Descent into the Holiday Maelstrom

I'm sorry, everyone. I got captured. I sailed into the torrid waters of the Midwestern Triangle once again this year. You know the one: Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. The ones that suck you into a death grip of sugar, stress and over-stimulation.

But it's done! DONE! And you know what? Even with all the craziness, I still managed to celebrate Yule with my husband and friends. It wasn't huge, or even very long, but it was so peaceful and fun. I went to a solstice bonfire, created a Yule log centerpiece, had traditional solstice Papa John's pizza, and wrapped up the night with a winter wishes spell and several Monty Python sketches. 

This was the first year I really tried to focus on Yule over Christmas prep. And you know what? It was one of the most relaxing holiday times I've ever had. 

So yes, the New Year is coming up and soon I'll be docking back to reality and writing again. There will be photos. There will be jokes. There will be random Pagan historical discoveries (I've been reading books NOT published by Llewelyn this winter.). And there will absolutely be crafting experiments - both successes and fails. 

Merry Yule, Happy Ongoing Hanukkah to any Jewish buddies out there, Merry Late Christmas (breath, the chaos is over!), and Happy early New Year!

Interesting. A "Holiday stress" search gives me nothing but Xmas photos...