my lipstick rant...

and we're off...

palin introduced the lipstick and now i'm hearing rumblings about people using it as a poking stick. of course they are.

i heard russ carnahan take a shot yesterday, “there’s no way you can dress up that record, even with a lot of lipstick.”

and obama got in his two cents, "you can put lipstick on a pig," he said, "it's still a pig."

there is debate... are they talking about palin? mccain? government on the whole?

and now there's a republican cry for an apology to palin?

oh, for the love of pete.

palin's surely wearing her flats and ready to rumble. personally, i think she's an inept, pompous little twit, but i'm certain she can handle the lipstick slam dance.

regardless, we may want to pay more attention to what this little girl from alaska may have up her sleeve. she's leading the farthest right into the light and the boys are taking pot shots covered in fire engine red loreal?

stay sharp, people. this glacier bay water shrew ain't no lady.

careful what you ask for... you could end up doing the dog paddle

I made a list. I thought about it for a very long time and I decided that this list was indeed just what I wanted.

After mastering painful relationships, failing to meet goals and being gracious beyond my means, I turned on my heels and went the other direction. I could be specific, but that would be rude to a lot of people. However, my list, in most cases, is the antithesis of what I’ve known all my life and instead demands what I’ve dreamed about.

After a ceremonial scripting in blood followed by dedicated celibacy for focus, the universe is answering some of these wishes and I’m finding that none of my previously honed skills work here.

Holy shit. I’m doing the dog paddle in the Baltic Sea.

I’m spending a lot of time debating myself at three in the morning. Suddenly, I’m split into two different people. There is sixteen year-old me ready to cut bait and get back to the safety of land rather than feel more disappointment. And then, there is grown up me who spends a lot of time reassuring and scolding.

HELLO! Paddling here!

In an odd way, I’m more me than ever. These two nuts that inhabit my mind are learning to work together and sharing insights. I’ve reawakened the passions—the floodgates have opened and emotions are back. But, I have experience now, and I know the value of staying the course… And, I know that no matter what happens, I’m okay.

Still paddling!

Yeah, I know. We’re still in unfamiliar territory. But, this is what I want and I wouldn’t change a thing on that list for the safety it might give. I’ll just keep paddling till I see land. Hell, along the way, I may just become the Michael Phelps of the dog paddle… who knows!

gifts we give ourselves...

Not so long ago I was thinking that it was a shame I no longer looked forward. That I didn’t experience that feeling I used to get before Christmas. I didn’t even really know what I missed, but instead had some vague recollection of a feeling. The fire of anticipation was missing.

What happened to desire? Longing? As I grew up, everything was within reach and anticipation was no longer an obstacle. When did anticipation become an obstacle? When did goals become mere trinkets?

Recently that feeling returned. It snuck in ever so quietly and without announcing itself. But, just now, it wrapped itself around me, brushed away the cobwebs and made itself at home.

I’d forgotten what it feels like to want something so badly it physically hurts. To want it, but to respect it—a respect so deep I am willing to test myself, restrain myself, cultivate a patience and trust that were oddly familiar as a child, but foreign as an adult.

And I will do this because I know without the slightest doubt that I am facing something that I will never have words to describe. I trust it because it is instinct and pure instinct supersedes the logic that has bogged me down.

I trust it because I know that this… this is the gift in the beautiful box under the tree that I will lose myself to—the one thing I have never named.

did i already take this?

I accidentally took a double dose of cold medicine this morning. Then I failed to eat breakfast and had eight cups of coffee before 10 am.

It’s now five in the afternoon. I’ve had a few pretzels, a lot water and I’m considering a mountain dew. I’m leaving shortly for my figure drawing class and worried i'll crash mid class.

I’ve been ridiculously productive all day and managed to run around the building eight times. I haven’t felt like this since high school when we used to take stupid quantities of vivarin—when I worked four part-time jobs and still made the honor roll.

Apparently, another side effect is that I can listen to Three Days Grace’s One-X for seven hours straight at ridiculous decibels.

BUT... I haven't had a sniffle or an ache or a headache or any such thing resembling a cold symptom all day.

When I finally go down tonight, it’s going to be the thud heard around the world.

i don't want to do this, but...

ms. palin, i'm not your biggest fan.

i like that you're a woman and that you're in the potential vp seat. you had a great fluidity to your speech, and i even laughed. but, girl, you grate on my last nerve and your voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

great performance, but i knew in the end that i wouldn't vote for you if you held a gun to my head.

seven years ago today...

seven years ago today, i said i love you to my dad for the last time. i told him not to be scared, that everything would be okay.

just the day before i'd been laid off and in just two weeks the twin towers would come down. i like to think my dad died that day in order to be where he needed to in order to help all the lost people coming from new york, the pentagon and pennsylvania.

nonetheless, i mark this day by remembering how awesome my dad was... and how incredibly horrendous lung cancer is. i think it's important to remember the fabulousness of my dad, but i can't forget his achilles heel. after all, i had only beaten smoking one year before he died.

most important on this day... is remembering his smile and the twinkle in his eye when he was chasing me around the house with a frozen trout or pulling me up on my head by my ankles or teasing me about eating brain sandwiches or making me kitty cocktails or... so many things.

and i tell the people i care about that they are incredible, wonderful people. i never told dad that enough.

What happens when you try to tame a wild horse...

Sometimes I forget myself and fall off the horse. So after a bit of berating myself, I look up at my proverbial steed, dust myself off and clamor back on.

There is a ritual.

Pull together an outfit that says I’m my own wench with my own beat.
Open the sunroof and drive the steed fast down the highway.
Select the mantra song of the day and sing it like you mean it.

On the wind today with a little extra sass… Jess Klein… Sink my teeth in…

By the time I get to work, the urge to run has subsided and I've regained control of the reigns.

Whew, that was a close one.

My life before you meant nothing…

I have to say that I’m ridiculously lucky to have such fabulous dancers influence my life in so many ways.

Today, another muse entered my life. I took a workshop with Nissa, a St. Louis teacher that I’ve been a little intimidated by for some time. I’ve seen her dance, and she is impressive.

I didn’t realize that as a teacher her sheer level of enthusiasm for the dance would tap into and sync with my own. Today’s workshop was about layering, but I learned more about the instruments and moods of the music. As if I’d forgotten the most important part, something clicked today.

At one point, Nissa was talking about a song in which the singer’s lyrics basically said that she has met the man of her dreams and all of her life before now meant nothing. I immediately thought, oh that’s sweet. But, I would be wrong! There is a real sadness in the song about the wasted time before. And yes, this… I understand.

In one moment an entire dance had a whole new context, and I understood Nissa’s earlier comments about completing the dance by understanding what the singer is saying in the music. Now, I suddenly had empathy with the song and danced it understanding the sense of regret. I'm adamant about lyrics in all other music... for me it's the most important part! why not middle eastern lyrics?

Nissa’s workshop, followed by a fabulous performance by Belly Dance Mirage at the International Festival, made for one more incredible day full of dancing, joy and new friendships.

My life changed the day I walked into my first dance class. I only wish it had happened sooner.

killing crabs and hip checks

I started the day a little edgy. Killing crabs and second guessing myself. Finally, I threw open the doors swept out the regrets and went boldly forth.

And here’s a ticket for not having a current license plate. I love Maplewood, but they are picking at my carcass five dollars at a time, and they are relentless. Too far from the curb, too close to the curb… the current plate is on the front, but not the back because I can’t get the damn thing off! So much for the good attitude.

Now I’m frustrated and second guessing again.

Just as I got to the highway I saw this adorable older man take a step back and make a chivalrous bow to a pretty jogger crossing the bridge. In an instant, my whole day changed and I'm reminescing about the night before...

Life is full of hip checks, but not every one sends you into the boards.

Vintage Penguin and Pelican Books

i always like to take note when my first love joins forces with my second. i used to have a ton of these books, and i still love sticking my nose in them for a super sniff... yes, i know, my designer friends are making faces. (it's all about the fresh printed materials with them.) nonetheless... i found a little inspiration in the color palettes today. happy girl!

(click the title!)