So out of the clear blue last week, my dear friend E's younger sister A suggested we all go salsa dancing.
"But I don't know how to salsa," I said, thinking this would get me off the hook.
It didn't.
Saturday night I found myself signed up for salsa lessons at a trendy little nightclub/dinner place. They put me in the beginners class but I'm sure had there been a sub-beginners group, that's where I would have been placed. E and A, both of Argentinian heritage, were put in the intermediate class.
I am a tragically Caucasian woman who was born with two flat feet and no rhythm. Remember the Seinfeld episode years ago when Elaine danced? I make her look like the Dancing Queen.
The biggest issue seems to be centered right in my pelvis and neighboring hips. They refuse to move, it's like they're fused in place.
Fortunately, during my lesson Saturday night, this was not a concern. The instructor seemed more fixated on my feet which were having a hell of a time trying to keep up with the other students. I seemed to be about a beat and half behind everyone else.
Halfway through the class, I decided I'd had enough and slipped off to find the ladies room. Then I went back to the table to wait for E and A...and I ordered us a round of the house specialty drink. I'll be damned if I can remember what the waitress called it, but it was green and smooth, ice cold with a touch of coconut!
At some point in the evening, the regular bar crowd swarmed inside, young people ready to dance and have a good time. And let me tell you, they could dance.
"Okay, I'm ready to go," said E.
"But we haven't danced yet," said A. "I came here to dance."
"I'm just having a swell time watching the festivities," I said. And I was. Off in a far corner, one couple was having a tough time deciding whether to dance or have sex right there on the dance floor. Both of their pelvic regions worked just fine.
Someone must have picked up A's need to dance because out of nowhere three young men seemed to be loitering near our table, and then their drinks were sitting on our table, and then all three of us were asked to dance.
"Can't I sit here and watch?" I asked. "I will be very happy to just watch."
"No, no, no!" said A. :You cannot say no. Get out there and dance!"
At least I got the tall guy. Who I might add, was an extremely nice person and laughed everytime I decided to lead, which was pretty funny considering I had no idea what to do!
Every time the music stopped and I thanked him for the dance and started heading back to the table, he'd grab my hand and insist we keep dancing.
And then something interesting happened. I finally got it. I wasn't perfect, I won't be on Dancing with the Stars anytime soon, but I was following his lead and my hips, knees, and feet all seemed to work in conjunction with one another!
Yep...it's kind of nice to get out of your comfort zone every now and then.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
If You Go Away Quietly, I Promise Not To Hurt You
In the musical Scrooge, before he meets the three ghosts who change his life, Scrooge bellows out in song, loud and clear: "I hate people, and I don't care if they hate me."
I know exactly what he means. I'm not a big fan, either. Well, not this week, anyway.
Maybe it's the onslaught of snow we've had the past couple of weeks and being held captive, but as of now, anything standing upright with a pulse is getting on my nerves...BIGTIME!
This is a problem because at work I have to be nice to people and have a smile on my face and joy in my voice. It's not much better on the homefront. We live in a big old renovated warehouse with lots of open space, but not many doors. No matter where I'm located, no matter how hard I try to eek out a little space for myself, there is always someone around me. My daughter is the only one with an escape. Her bedroom actually has a door.
I actually asked my husband recently why we couldn't put a door on the bathroom in our bedroom.
"That would take away from the suite-like feel of the room," he said.
I was sitting on the toilet at the time, thinking some privacy would be nice.
When I was young and didn't know any better, it was so much easier to put up with other people. I was stupid and happy, and had the same easy-going attitude as a Golden Retriever puppy. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when people started to piss me off, but now I'm old and cynical and it takes every ounce of my patience and willpower to not reach out and grab someone by their ears and throttle them around.
It would be so theraputic, but I'm not willing to risk the assault charges it would most likely bring.
Maybe what I need is a punching bag. I could put it in the garage and anytime I felt the need to whallop the crap out of someone head down there and spend some quality time pounding the leather.
I feel better already.
I know exactly what he means. I'm not a big fan, either. Well, not this week, anyway.
Maybe it's the onslaught of snow we've had the past couple of weeks and being held captive, but as of now, anything standing upright with a pulse is getting on my nerves...BIGTIME!
This is a problem because at work I have to be nice to people and have a smile on my face and joy in my voice. It's not much better on the homefront. We live in a big old renovated warehouse with lots of open space, but not many doors. No matter where I'm located, no matter how hard I try to eek out a little space for myself, there is always someone around me. My daughter is the only one with an escape. Her bedroom actually has a door.
I actually asked my husband recently why we couldn't put a door on the bathroom in our bedroom.
"That would take away from the suite-like feel of the room," he said.
I was sitting on the toilet at the time, thinking some privacy would be nice.
When I was young and didn't know any better, it was so much easier to put up with other people. I was stupid and happy, and had the same easy-going attitude as a Golden Retriever puppy. It's hard to pinpoint exactly when people started to piss me off, but now I'm old and cynical and it takes every ounce of my patience and willpower to not reach out and grab someone by their ears and throttle them around.
It would be so theraputic, but I'm not willing to risk the assault charges it would most likely bring.
Maybe what I need is a punching bag. I could put it in the garage and anytime I felt the need to whallop the crap out of someone head down there and spend some quality time pounding the leather.
I feel better already.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Mother Nature...You Hormonal Bitch, You.
Dear Mother Nature,
Seriously...enough is enough. I have no idea what you're problem has been this past week...but c'mon, another freaking snow storm for the Mid-Atlantic??? Currently, close to two feet of snow covers most of Baltimore and the state of Maryland, and now you plan to shower us with another eight to 16 inches!? Our snow plow contingency is already overwhelmed and incapable of clearing a good majority of the smaller residential streets and byways. We have been told by state highway officials to not even think about driving today because there are blizzard and whiteout conditions!
It's a huge, whalloping mess and frankly, we have had enough, thank you! Once loving couples have been trapped in their homes for close to a week. Marriages are breaking up, parents are bound to be taking out their frustrations on their children. A friend emailed me to say that she's not sure how much longer she can take her five year old daughter playing We Shall Overcome on the recorder (by the way, not sure who it was who devised that annoying little flutelike instrument, but they should be shot and killed).
The only good thing to come out of this whole mess is that my wonderful boss has put all of us up in a nearby hotel so we can get to work. I have an entire king sized bed to myself, and as long as the hotel bar doesn't run out of booze, I will persevere!
So in closing, Mother Nature, I'm praying this is the end of the snow. You won't hear from me again until I'm roasting my ass off in a few months during one of your classic Maryland summers. Right now, highs in the 90's and 98 percent humidity is sounding pretty darned good!
XOXOXO
Tamara
Seriously...enough is enough. I have no idea what you're problem has been this past week...but c'mon, another freaking snow storm for the Mid-Atlantic??? Currently, close to two feet of snow covers most of Baltimore and the state of Maryland, and now you plan to shower us with another eight to 16 inches!? Our snow plow contingency is already overwhelmed and incapable of clearing a good majority of the smaller residential streets and byways. We have been told by state highway officials to not even think about driving today because there are blizzard and whiteout conditions!
It's a huge, whalloping mess and frankly, we have had enough, thank you! Once loving couples have been trapped in their homes for close to a week. Marriages are breaking up, parents are bound to be taking out their frustrations on their children. A friend emailed me to say that she's not sure how much longer she can take her five year old daughter playing We Shall Overcome on the recorder (by the way, not sure who it was who devised that annoying little flutelike instrument, but they should be shot and killed).
The only good thing to come out of this whole mess is that my wonderful boss has put all of us up in a nearby hotel so we can get to work. I have an entire king sized bed to myself, and as long as the hotel bar doesn't run out of booze, I will persevere!
So in closing, Mother Nature, I'm praying this is the end of the snow. You won't hear from me again until I'm roasting my ass off in a few months during one of your classic Maryland summers. Right now, highs in the 90's and 98 percent humidity is sounding pretty darned good!
XOXOXO
Tamara
Friday, February 5, 2010
SNOWMAGEDDON! Should Be A Winter Monsterland!
If you're someplace warm this weekend, like Arizona or Florida, I salute you and hope you think of those us stuck in the Mid-Atlantic area. We are gearing up for the Snowstorm of the century...at least if all the hype from the weather experts proves to be true!
We're supposed to get anywhere from twelve to twenty inches!
I can't speak for all Mid-Atlantic states, but here in Maryland, especially the Baltimore area, massive snowfall equals freaked out human beings. We don't typically get alot of snow but when we do...panic ensues. Grocery stores run out of bread, milk, and toilet paper...and just about any other item that isn't nailed to the shelves!
Yesterday after work, I hit the Safeway in my neighborhood and while I only wanted to buy something for dinner that night, I got caught up in the lemming mentality and started filling up my cart like a crazy woman.
Should I be trapped inside my house this weekend, I will find comfort in my variety of frozen pizzas, Girl Scout Thin Mint and Tagalong ice cream, pork shoulder (for a steaming pot of pulled pork!), mac and cheese, slice and bake cookies in the chocolate chip and peanut butter varieties, and a huge box of candy in a valentine shaped box (it was on sale, so sue me).
Yes, it's going to be a comfort food weekend while the blizzard wreaks its havoc!
I live in the city which brings about a whole new set of issues when more than a couple of inches of snow falls. Parking a vehicle, for example. I'm lucky because I have a garage to park my car, but some of my neighbors have to park on the street. It gets very, very territorial...and sometimes, very ugly. Baltimorons have a truly unique way of securing their parking spots...they use lawn chairs. God help the unknowing person who dares to move a chair and steal the spot.
So Godspeed if you too will become a member of the Great Snowstorm of 2010. And if you happen to be basking in the beautiful sunshine, plopped down next to a pool or ocean with a cocktail in hand...I hate you.
(just kidding)
We're supposed to get anywhere from twelve to twenty inches!
I can't speak for all Mid-Atlantic states, but here in Maryland, especially the Baltimore area, massive snowfall equals freaked out human beings. We don't typically get alot of snow but when we do...panic ensues. Grocery stores run out of bread, milk, and toilet paper...and just about any other item that isn't nailed to the shelves!
Yesterday after work, I hit the Safeway in my neighborhood and while I only wanted to buy something for dinner that night, I got caught up in the lemming mentality and started filling up my cart like a crazy woman.
Should I be trapped inside my house this weekend, I will find comfort in my variety of frozen pizzas, Girl Scout Thin Mint and Tagalong ice cream, pork shoulder (for a steaming pot of pulled pork!), mac and cheese, slice and bake cookies in the chocolate chip and peanut butter varieties, and a huge box of candy in a valentine shaped box (it was on sale, so sue me).
Yes, it's going to be a comfort food weekend while the blizzard wreaks its havoc!
I live in the city which brings about a whole new set of issues when more than a couple of inches of snow falls. Parking a vehicle, for example. I'm lucky because I have a garage to park my car, but some of my neighbors have to park on the street. It gets very, very territorial...and sometimes, very ugly. Baltimorons have a truly unique way of securing their parking spots...they use lawn chairs. God help the unknowing person who dares to move a chair and steal the spot.
So Godspeed if you too will become a member of the Great Snowstorm of 2010. And if you happen to be basking in the beautiful sunshine, plopped down next to a pool or ocean with a cocktail in hand...I hate you.
(just kidding)
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The People Who Eat My Brain
Let me tell you about the people who live in my house. One is big and hairy, and old and moody. The other person, is young and pretty, and self-absorbed. But she's a teenager and I'll cut her some slack. I will refrain from mentioning their names because they have no interest in playing an active role in my ramblings.
Let's call them the People Who Eat My Brain.
Old and Moody for example, has managed to avoid most family vacations over the past sixteen years, not to mention spending much time with either branch of our respective families. He will make exceptions for funerals which we all think is so grand of him!
Over Summer or Winter breaks, it was me and the child, and many times when we were on one adventure or another, white-water rafting in Utah, or DisneyWorld, people rightly assumed that I was a single mom.
But every once in a great while O/M completely floors me.
"When does Spring break fall this year?" he asked while we were preparing dinner the other night. "I was thinking of taking the girl on a road trip."
Well I'll be darned, I thought.
"Where are you thinking of going?" He has a two seater convertible and I couldn't imagine exactly what type of voyage was brewing in that brain of his.
"The Grand Canyon," he said, as casually as if he was planning to take her up the street to the CVS. "I think we can get there in a couple of days."
Unless he was thinking of strapping rocket jets onto his tiny wind up toy of a motor vehicle, I couldn't comprehend how he thought he'd get there so fast from our Eastern seaboard home. But I stayed positive for his sake, as well as our daughter's.
"Well that sounds wonderful," I said. "You two will have a great time."
As if on cue, braineater #2 walked in, apparently having caught the tail end of our conversation.
"Where's dad taking me?"
"The Grand Canyon for Spring break," I said. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Can't we go to Maine instead?" she asked.
MAINE!?
"No, that's too far," said #1.
Too Far? I sensed this grand adventure coming to an end before it even started.
"C'mon, you two, a father-daughter trip is a great idea," I insisted. "Life is short, go have some fun!"
"Oh, mom...you just want to have the house to yourself," chimed #2.
You're darned right I do, little girl....and I don't care if it takes duct tape, valium, and two round trip tickets on a Greyhound bus bound for the great Southwest!
Let's call them the People Who Eat My Brain.
Old and Moody for example, has managed to avoid most family vacations over the past sixteen years, not to mention spending much time with either branch of our respective families. He will make exceptions for funerals which we all think is so grand of him!
Over Summer or Winter breaks, it was me and the child, and many times when we were on one adventure or another, white-water rafting in Utah, or DisneyWorld, people rightly assumed that I was a single mom.
But every once in a great while O/M completely floors me.
"When does Spring break fall this year?" he asked while we were preparing dinner the other night. "I was thinking of taking the girl on a road trip."
Well I'll be darned, I thought.
"Where are you thinking of going?" He has a two seater convertible and I couldn't imagine exactly what type of voyage was brewing in that brain of his.
"The Grand Canyon," he said, as casually as if he was planning to take her up the street to the CVS. "I think we can get there in a couple of days."
Unless he was thinking of strapping rocket jets onto his tiny wind up toy of a motor vehicle, I couldn't comprehend how he thought he'd get there so fast from our Eastern seaboard home. But I stayed positive for his sake, as well as our daughter's.
"Well that sounds wonderful," I said. "You two will have a great time."
As if on cue, braineater #2 walked in, apparently having caught the tail end of our conversation.
"Where's dad taking me?"
"The Grand Canyon for Spring break," I said. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"
"Can't we go to Maine instead?" she asked.
MAINE!?
"No, that's too far," said #1.
Too Far? I sensed this grand adventure coming to an end before it even started.
"C'mon, you two, a father-daughter trip is a great idea," I insisted. "Life is short, go have some fun!"
"Oh, mom...you just want to have the house to yourself," chimed #2.
You're darned right I do, little girl....and I don't care if it takes duct tape, valium, and two round trip tickets on a Greyhound bus bound for the great Southwest!
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