Sunday, February 26, 2006

I remember the days when a break up was pretty easily solved by getting drunk a couple times, a little ego-propping flirting, and work work work. Lately, it seems like staring into space sort of takes up most of the time. Thinking thinking thinking. like maybe I could solve the problem or find the missing piece that then makes the blockage dissolve and all the thoughts and feelings will start moving freely again.

Blogging is so weird. To say this is a disclaimer. It is a jounal that's an advertisement and this one has a filter with no consistency. Do I feel vitual empathy from the four friends who know about this plus imagine how much more i'm getting from the virtual blogging community? The privacy is in knowing that no one is really reading it. what a weird forum for private thoughts. This is an example of the state of my mind when staring.

Anyway, hey. What's up? Today I went snowboarding with TSB, a dope nonprofit that takes young folks up the mountain and matches them with mentors and guest instructors. I spent the day riding goofy only on my toe edge like kiki who did exactly the same thing. all day. And generally had the most amazing attitude about it. She sat down at one point and said, "I'm proud of myself." And I thought, damn, that girl has got it all right. As per the usual in the adult-youth mentor world, I think adults get more out of it.

As for my calves, they got a beating.

I stared out the window the whole bus ride down the pass, mountains like jagged boulders stacked against each other, snow smoothing them out. Washington. So damn beautiful. So damn gray.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Today's solution: international dance travels. Forget about surfing chicas in costa rica, I'm going to Amsterdam this summer to do a dance intensive with Anouk Van Dijk. I had a chance to take a couple of her classes and watch her piece this week and this idea is now my current kick. I was going to take her workshop this week but couldn't really get my head in the right place for it. Oh well, Amsterdam sounds way better. Austublief? Austublief.

5 days at Vera left.

31 in Seattle.

Friday, February 24, 2006

Last night, my friend Andy saved me. He convinced me to go to a dance battle with him, that he won partially by stripping down to short ass running shorts and a shirt that quotes dirty dancing "nobody puts baby in the corner." then we battled in the photo booth. It's funny how when feeling so low and out of it, i can go into a sweaty club with ridiculous mainstream hip hop blaring and totally lose myself in it. Oh yeah, there are all these other people out there and their silly antics and dance moves and efforts to make a great evening out of an otherwise boring thursday night in Seattle. I fell in love with all of them. And then I thought of how much more fun it would have been to be dancing there with t. I lasted a little while longer and had to leave.

I again made it 10 steps outside of the door to velocity this morning and had to turn around and leave. I sat on a park bench for a long time and I can't remember when the last time I did that was. I didn't feel like it at the time, but I'm pretty sure it was a good thing.

Friday, February 03, 2006

This is a generic picture from the Mision SF, where I'm currently lurking in a coffee shop, having my second big ass coffee and white flour pastry meal (why can't I remember how to eat when traveling?). It's almost 70 degrees and was sort of sunny today. I have been wearing too many layers and taking every opportunity to sit outside. It seems that I'm the only one that thinks it's warm. I'm always the only one sitting outside.

The streets are wide, murals on peeling paint walls, and you could mistake your location for williamsburg except for the random encounter with a palm tree and slightly fresher air.

This is a weird visit. Every step is like a test. Every person is being measured and evaluated: are you a friend? is this a friendly sidwalk? are these houses capable of being homes? will that be the bakery where I go to get empanadas or will I stick with the slick safe, capitol hill-esque coffee shop full of thin apples and pale white faces lit from the screen glow.

This morning I got up and took a "Advanced Release" class at ODC, this amazing newly renovated dance common space in the middle of the mission. The room was moderately populated with compact women, all seemingly half a foot shorter than me with limbs they effortlessly controlled and moved in clean systematic body halves and x-pathways. Somehow I ended up always front and center in the most conspicuous place to demonstrate my loose-limbed momentum-drunk flailing. I met two people, differing levels of cool detachedness, who half-heartedly advised me of places to go and see dance. I'm sure it will get easier right? I danced and walked out into the warm air, sweating in my scarf and put on my sunglasses. . . that's right, I said my motherfuckin' sunglasses.

I spent the day working in close proximity to what will be my office, trying to focus on budget writing and prepping for the conference I'm going to this weekend but still got sucked back into Vera stuff. It seems impossible to imagine not having 80 vera-related questions to answer. I can hardly wait, or so I think.

It's weird not knowing more people here. I was lamenting earlier to lance about how I feel so much more at home wandering the streets of new york, finding stuff to do, stuff to get into, ways to amuse myself and people to bump into. This space is so foreign and so strikingly identical to cities I know that it's baffling to feel like such a stranger. It is new new new. it's is whatever i will make of it and it could be a mirror image. can't you see bedford ave? can't you see 2nd ave in belltown? effortless. right?