what i did...

i took a belly dance class yesterday afternoon with a friend at the local Y.
i wriggled and shimmied to middle eastern beats. i felt a little silly, but happy.
no fancy coin belts or ankle bells for me, but there were definitely plenty to be heard in the tiny room.
we danced in a circle following the instructor.
the hunched little granny to my right used me as her visual guide. she was very cute considering i was probably not the best person to follow.
i made kind of almost figure 8's with my hips and did serpentine arms and that one funky move
where the dancer holds her arms overhead and shifts her neck from side to side.
today i'm sore...

i saw a woman in my neighborhood walking in a burqa today. it was a little disarming. only because while i have seen women in full burqa before, i don't think that i have ever seen one worn in the states and certainly not in my bucolic little hood. and now i'm wondering what she looked like underneath all that fabric and if she minded being so covered while her cute little son ran free. i could imagine that she is beautiful and young and full of hope and is plotting her escape from a tyranical beast of a husband who doesn't appreciate her poetry or know that she listens to dylan, cat power and the velvet underground...or maybe all of those things except that her husband really treasures her and she treasures God and her burqa is a statement of her devotion. i guess that i will never know, just as she will maybe never know the glory of having the sun baking her skin while lolling topless in the sand and the joy of floating weightless and naked with the seahorses and the kelp as ocean waves lap at her skin.
c'est la vie...
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yesterday~

image from here
i watched a hummingbird chasing a crow.
i soaked in a hot tub and had a posh massage.
i winked at a street punk half my age and then later
i waltzed in the livingroom with my love.
p.s. isn't this song so lovely? it's a new fave. and also, my god, i love her hair.

the dopeness or ode to the boys of '93

this song makes me think of you. all of you, wound up into a single sometimes confusing once upon a time. no order. for some of you,there are only wisps, through a haze of sunshine, sea spray and sweaty clubs. dancing to burning spear, a tribe called quest and the doors. mostly friends some more some less, but all something.
to grady~how old were you? 19? playing cards with your dad till all hours in my station at the news cafe. that dance to cheryl lynn's "to be real." the way you "borrowed" my dog for walks to look cool...to carlos and alain and that crabby dude with the long hair and the car who moved me and my stuff 10 blocks down. you were my homeys. do you remember watching 90210 and the simpsons all together like a family at andie's? surfer bob too, rest your soul brother, life dealt you a rough blow, but i will never forget you making an icebox cake or whatever the hell it was cuz sorry, it was gross, but you were so proud to contribute to our pot(heavy emphasis here) luck. to alex aka rainbow...baby face. i made you that leather strap braided with coral to keep you safe on your surfing adventures. do you still have it? to tom c., you know i still have a picture of you somewhere. you slept with your head in my lap after that effed up trip to gainesville. where are you? to tony who brought me apples as i sunbathed on the beach. the reason i wouldn't go out with you was because you drove an suv and your hair was too short. and serge, man, serge you tried so hard and i really liked you and you gave me santana and we would liberate books together from the news, but whatever, you still exist in my head and i hope that you are well. to that crazy dude from canada who's first name i don't remember, but somehow your middle name stands out....zoltan. you're lucky you stopped calling me from rebar at 3 in the morning(i usually wasn't home though). to graham...so punk rock and you never knew that you made my heart flutter at least once. maybe twice. to the guy with the long curly hair who was just one of the girls, i still have your library book on charlemagne. it's a little over due. i wish i could remember your name. to mark? jason?brad? you. you and your stupid boy pranks. who reallllly takes a magnifying glass to the beach to burn chicks in bikinis like some sort of mad scientist? april hated that you liked me and not her. i rode the handlebars and you peddled me home. you said my bike reminded you of the one you had in holland. you sent me that letter of yearning from somewhere in the deep south and i pretended like you didn't exist. i'm sorry. and finally, to casey. my heart skipped a beat the first time we met. you were on a bike and had your long locks up in a rasta cap. i was so shy and practically your stalker and you were such a gentleman. in your bottlegreen jag. taking me to class with you at u.m., to the airport in the morning after a midnight swim, to dragging me by the hand out of the vip room at velvet past john cusack, past my friends, past everyone after i told you to just stop fucking with me.
so boys of'93, you are the dopeness...and i dedicate this song to you.
~as inspired after having watched the movie "The Wackness" starring mister sir ben kingsley.

mishmash~

a soft embroidered lounging robe, a mug of hot tea, a reprieve from a hugely hectic work schedule...
tomorrow is venice beach, an engaged sister with wedding dress stars in her eyes and a talented friend. sunday is too far away to think about...
and then this morning, i heard this cover of a Gary Numan tune while driving to work. it blew my mind.


i've also been voting in Fug Madness, it's going to be a close one. sorry gaga, sorry ling...there's gonna be a new sheriff in town.