Ah, Good Things

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Make. It. Stop.

Seriously.





This is during the 6 o'clock hour. In the A. M.

Not a way to start the day.

Solo Dance, Solo Audience

When S and I walked into dance class, we happened upon everyone already dancing to Unbreak My Heart (not the ballad by Toni Braxton, but the rock version by whatshisface). Class had started early because, as Jean explained, it was hot. What was the logic in that? I'm not sure. The room was pretty warm, but dancing makes you warmer. Wouldn't starting later make it better in the hopes that the room would cool off the longer the sun was down?

Anyway, Unbreak My Heart is a dance we've already learned so as Jean taught the steps, I pointed my feet to the side automatically and Jean said, yes like that. And I turned red. A compliment from Jean! Okay, not so much a compliment but she acknowledged I was doing it right!

The we learned Breaking Up Is Hard To Do. It was actually pretty tricky. S wasn't feeling well, so she was sitting out to the side and without her next to me learning it, it was difficult. I kept saying that to her--this is actually tricky! She kept saying back, But it looks fun! It was fun.



A bit later on, the Asian woman who dances in front of us asked S, What's wrong with you? I swear, that's exactly how she said it. Not, Are you feeling okay? Not, Aww, what happened? Not, Hey why aren't you dancing? Nope, just simply, What's wrong with you?

S responded that her stomach hurt. The woman said, Oh, too bad, and walked away.

We had already started the waltz when I burst out laughing and could not stop. S was kind of laughing off to the side. I had to catch my breath to tell her what she had also already thought of. I was like, you know, you SHOULD have told her, I don't know that dance. S told me I was going to Hell as that comment followed the comment about how certain shirts can't be worn in close succession because they are memorable as I looked at the shirt the woman was wearing and just knew she'd worn it the week before because it has a sparkly sequin vest attached to it and how is that not memorable.

After my laugh-a-thon, Jean had finished re-teaching the waltz, so she put the music on. S decided to keep herself occupied by recording me dance and sending it to Eddie. As I danced, she had another laugh attack. I didn't know why until she called me over to look at the footage. She was like, you're dancing by yourself. The waltz allows for you to take up a lot of room. I was in the back corner and expanded my dance space because I'm comfortable with the dance. And so, the recording makes it look like I'm all by myself dancing in a big brown room with a white tile floor. It was actually kind of sad-ish.

The night ended on an upswing when Jean put on Something in the Water. S and I are convinced there's supposed to be a spin, and so I added one and it made it that much more wonderful. I did it only on the wall where no one could see me so that I didn't confused anyone, which is yet another way to make friends.

Tool Box Confessions

The chain in the toilet tank snapped off again. I took off the lid of the tank and attempted to reattach it. It wouldn't relink. I called out to Eddie to bring me the pliers. Eddie, bereft of sleep and mid-bread-ordering (more on that coming soon), took a few minutes and then arrived at the bathroom door.

Is this what you need?

Honey? That's a wrench.

Oh. Okay. Then no.

He came back with the pliers soon after.

Moral of the story: Bread makes you loopy.

Omens: More Annoying Than Anything

Usually, the dogs next door and across the street take turns barking at nothing to interupt the silence of the long days I work from home. Amid the hubbub of a new business (more on that at a later day), I've been working from a different place--Eddie's room, on his computer, doing different kinds of work at different times of the day. Basically, I'm ping-ponging from the front room to the back room throughout the day, switching from words to numbers and back again.

The dogs have fallen silent, or maybe it's just that I don't get distracted by them anymore. Working from Eddie's room in the back of the house, I've found in their place is Beethoven. One shrill bird calling out:

dun dun dun DUNNNNNNNNN!!!!

Over and over and over and over, breaking concentration and silence all at once. The bird will stop and I'll fall into a false security until there it is again:

dun dun dun DUNNNNNNNNN!!!!

Now it's followed to the front room, my office. Never heard it before ever and now I can't get away.


It's just the first four notes. Over and over and over.


Listen really closely. The one outside my window is much louder, so needy.


I looked up bird call Beethoven's fifth and found that it could be a skylark, a white-throated sparrow, a song sparrow that might or might not be the same thing as a white-throated sparrow, a yellowhammer if I were in the UK, a Zonotrichia albicollis or "The Beethoven Bird." Really, orinthologist? I go to the bird forums and get "The Beethoven Bird"? I could have come up with that.

Of course, the whole research thing was not my first idea. My first idea was, Omigod, I'm doomed. It's like that bird in the Bible when Jesus gets crucified (okay, I need to brush up on my Catholicism, but I do know there's a bird and it's a bad thing and it may have something to do with Jesus being crucified, or maybe just with one of the Apostles being a bad seed). It's like that bird from Julius Caesar, an owl, I think, that's just clearly a bad sign. It's like the Raven, nevermore.

When I relayed this to MS at work, he said point blank: Let's reframe this; maybe the bird wants you to listen to more classical music.

Ah. Perspective. It's a good thing.

Mr. Fashionisto

While watching The Voice:

If it's between his sweater



and her hat,




Adam's sweater clearly loses this battle round.

That? Is from Eddie. Who knew he cared?

Hand Dance Challenge

Sometimes dance class calls for a little bit of amusement. The dances are great, but in reviewing and not learning new dances, S and I look for ways to keep it lively.

No one else ever joins in the fun. They dance as if it is their job.

So when it came time to paddle to the side, I waved my arms around as if to say to S, top that.

S responded with, is that a challenge?

I replied, yes, yes I think it is a challenge.

And so when the music came out, the hands came out. I swerved my wrists around and made my hands to circles over my head. S turned and put her pointer fingers up in the air.

Round 1: wash

I flicked my fingers to the side. S added a clap. I laughed hysterically.

Round 2: S

I made it seem as if I were jumping rope. S swirled one wrist above her head, a la Jean.

Round 3: Me

We both simultaneously went low, shrugging our shoulders to the floor, unplanned.

Round 4: Total tie--we know each other too well.

Then we realized just how long the song is. Aside from some snapping and adding in some extra head movement (think pigeon), there was not much left to choose from lest we really interrupt the class and change up the feet.

So at the end, we tied. In my heart, I won. I'm sure S feels the same way in hers.

What was going on in the rest of the class? No one seemed to appreciate our flair. Still, no one condemned it. Flair on.

Then we did Hello, Dolly. Surprising, isn't it? We added flair by skipping and leaping into the moves and bringing our hands higher and lower than necessary.

Again, no one joined in. I suppose I have a dream that one day our class will be like how it is in the movies and everyone will start doing that African Tribal dance from Can't Buy Me Love and everyone will do it perfectly and it will be awesome.

Until then, hand dance challenge with flair.