Getting My Groove On

I've been bitten anew by the salsa bug. I haven't danced regularly in years, but I went out Friday night and now it's all I want to do with my weekends. I'm about to go spend 3.5 hours in classes and then dance the rest of the night away. I'm obsessed. I even bought proper dance shoes yesterday.

I'm finally going to bite the bullet and start taking salsa on2 classes, New York-style salsa. I mostly dance Cuban-style salsa, Rueda de Casino.

I'm so out of shape, but hey, a girl has to start somewhere. Today I'll be dancing at a dance studio as opposed to a club so, at least I won't reek of smoke afterwards. That was the gross part of Friday night. I can stand the smoke in isolation at times, but smoke on top of me being sweaty and contributing my own funk is more than I can handle.

OK. Here's a little demonstration for your viewing pleasure.

Samudaya

Buddhists believe that the key to ending suffering is letting go of all desire or craving. That's a sizable leap on my part from the 1st to the 3rd of the Four Nobel Truths, but an interesting idea to explore nonetheless.

In my lifetime I have experienced considerable fluctuation in my ability and willingness to want. I used to be terrified to want. I remember doing everything in my power to quench desire at every turn. I'd deny it. I'd distract myself. I'd accept pitiful substitutions for the true object of my passion. Either way, I avoided desire like the plague. Acknowledging my desires was tantamount to numerating my miseries. I was so unhappy in so many areas of my life that the exercise of thinking about what I wanted out of life produced more despair, as reality only made those desires seem less and less attainable. During this point in my life I would have agreed that desire was the source of my suffering.

Right now I am about to start a new job. I am about to be divorced. I about to be in a much better financial situation than I've been in my entire adult life. I am on the brink of realizing what I fantasized about during my despair, starting over. It's a very exciting place to be. I expect to meet new people, travel to new places, experience the things I ached to experience when I thought I never would. I am equipped with a much better understanding of who I am, what I like, what I despise, what I stand for and what I won't. I am happy. I am unmistakably, palpably happy. And yet, I'm still haunted by longing.

I feel like there's a difference between expectation and longing. The latter requires more vulnerability. Does that seem strange? Are those two words synonymous to anyone else? They aren't to me. I expect things to change for the better in my world. But I feel like naming my longings (or identifying them) reminds me of emptiness, reminds me of the voids. I guess the bitter reality is that the objects of all desire are transient or impermanent, no matter how we cut it. I can't hold on to pleasure. It will slip through my fingers eventually. I can't hold on to people or relationships. They change and die. I can't hold on to things or money. Stock markets crash. But there are things in this life that I want and I feel like sometimes my "enjoy it while it lasts" attitude is the same as trying to deny longing. It seems rooted somehow in despair. I'm trying to figure out how to turn that around. I'm trying to figure out how to want what I want, expect to have it at some point and acknowledge and accept that I may not always have it--all at the same time.

One of the things I've longed for most is the freedom to be my own person. I feel like I am living that freedom more and more everyday. I've found community among those who aren't threatened by or judgmental of my exercise of that freedom. Those probably seem like "givens" to most people, but remember I was a pastor's wife. I lived under palpable scrutiny. I was constantly reminded that every inhalation and fart of mine had life changing implications in the lives of others in my community. It's frightening to think about having had that much perceived power over other individuals. It's frightening to consider the ill effects it has had. It's amazing to be free of that kind of community. This kind of freedom is something I've longed for years. Is it too transient? Temporal? Impermanent? I sure hope not.

Anyway, this has been a long, convoluted way of saying that I am very, very happy with my life right now and I hope it just gets better from here. I want love, happiness, fulfillment, security, companionship and peace. And mind-blowing sex. Can't a girl have it all?

Loving this Song Right Now

Watch and Listen:



Read:

lyrics - Jennifer Lopez Lyrics

Summary in Translation:

Dude! You messed up and wrecked our home so bad, it's not even worth my time to hate you. Moving on!


By the way, yesterday was the second anniversary of me finally having enough and walking out of my marriage for good. I am so over the pain and the bitterness. I'm happier than ever and am so ready to get this divorce finalized so I can move on with my life.

¿Qué hiciste? Me perdiste para siempre.

Tagged...And I Stole the Formatting Too.

Alphabet Scoop Meme
~courtesy of Macarena

Available or single: Invoking the 5th Amendment on this one.
Best friend: I can't pick. I have great friends. I love them all.
Cake or pie: Cake! Pie crust is disgusting.
Drink of choice: Dry red wine.
Essential item: Baby oil gel.
Favorite color: Blue.
Gummi Bears or Worms: Bears
Hometown: Washington, DC.
Indulgence: DSW.
January or February: February has better sales.
Kids: Other people's.
Life is incomplete without: Intimacy.
Marriage date: Been there. Done that. Burnt the T-shirt. Cursed be November 2oth.
Number of siblings: One.
Oranges or apples: Oranges.
Phobias/fears: Miscarriage. Incarceration.
Quote, favorite: Temptation resisted is pleasure lost.
Reasons to smile: See B, spring is back, new job, chocolate
Season: Fall.
Tag three: Katrice, Let's Pretend, Black Jack Bauer.
Unknown fact about me: I've never seen The Godfather.
Vegetarian or oppressor of animals: Must you put it like that? Oppressor.
Worst habit: Walking out of my clothes and leaving them on the bathroom floor or sporadic flossing.
X-rays or ultrasounds: Ultrasounds...but the full bladder part sucks.
Your favorite foods: Free.
Zodiac: Gemini.

On Imus and Stuff I was Trying to Avoid

Once upon at time there was this guy named Don Imus. He said stupid racist and sexist things on the air about the Rutgers University women's basketball team. He is a dick head. He got fired for being a racist, sexist, dick head. End of story.

Wait, no, not the end of the story.

Suddenly, all of the black people in the land started turning on themselves and blaming themselves for Imus's comments. Now, these black people were a bit deluded. They thought they were talking about other black people. But somewhere along the line, after 1964, they forgot how to be one people. They forgot that pointing the finger at "them" was also pointing the finger at themselves. So sad. So very sad indeed.

You see, after Imus, the S.R.D.H., said what he said, black people across the land started emailing each other and going on tv and radio talk shows talking about how they really did Imus to themselves. They blamed their music, their ghettos, their Ebonics, their limited access to the best education in the country for people like Imus, the S.R.D.H. saying racist stuff like that. They discussed reasons why they shouldn't be outraged about Imus, when there are misogynistic messages in their own music. It's as though the powers that be sprinkled pixie dust among them and confused them and now they can't distinguish between the cause and the effect. It's a sad state for these people.

They have forgotten who controls the music industry, who controls the images they see of themselves on tv, in the media and on the silver screen. They have forgotten the role racism has historically played in the creation of their ghettos and how survival has caused many of them to forgo many of the luxuries and comforts others of them enjoy. It's as if the lot of them has been brainwashed. They no longer think like the generation before them who knew that their survival as a people required unity and fighting for the collective. Instead, it seems like something akin to Stockholm syndrome is running amok in the land.

Is there hope for the people? Will those in the fringes who see the dastardly scheme at work learn how to communicate the need to stop the self-hating infighting? Will the people stop spending so much time being disgusted with one another and take back the spirit that embodied King and those of his time? Will the Cosby's in the land offer solutions to the problems, instead of constant criticism? Or will they all turn completely individualistic and identify with "pull yourself up by your bootstraps, all by your damn self" ideology of ...well, you know who the villains in land are. No need to utter their name.

Stay tuned for the next event that causes black people to convince each other that they shouldn't express outrage about racism merely because there are problems at home.

Clothing Conundrum

I SO need a makeover. I need someone to ambush me on the street and say, "Hell NO!! This is not working."

I used to be such a cute dresser. Never mind that I was a cute little size 6 at the time, and mom was paying for my clothing habit. Fat and poverty has gotten in my way worse than you can imagine. I am not one of those people who can "get by" on bargain stuff. I have champagne taste and Pabst Blue Ribbon pockets. I'm not high maintence, I just don't look good in clothes that aren't quality clothes. Which means that I haven't looked good in a long, long time.

I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel about this poverty issue. I have 2 job offers on the table...well, one and a half. Either job will make a significant impact on my financial situation. I wasn't looking for this. I didn't apply for either job, yet here they are. It's one of those things where life lets you know it's time to make a move. You know, when the pieces never would have come together had you forced them. I feel like a sigh of relief is just around the corner. But, I'm so used to being broke, I don't know how to think any other way.

I have a dinner for work Thursday night. I need to shop for something to wear. Now, granted I'm not in my new tax bracket just yet, but I'm conflicted about what I should buy. My head says: clearance rack, Marshall's, Sears (clearance rack). My splurger says: OK, Macy's clearance rack or Ann Taylor Loft clearance rack. My fat ass says: Buy a quality outfit that fits you well and looks nice! I don't speak that third language just yet. I need to buy a book.

So, here's my pitch. SIGN me up for What Not to Wear!! We can start with my black jeans. I will gladly throw away every stitch of clothing I own to start over and look like a professional. I wear jeans and flip flops to work everyday. I keep a suit on the door in case I need it. I own 2 suits that fit me. I need some serious wardrobe help. I need a stylist. I need a makeover.

I Really Need Dog in My Life

Heartinsanfrancisco has posted about animal totems. It is a fascinating post. It is particularly fascinating for me to read at a time in my life when I am contemplating how others understand the inter-relatedness of all life. I believe we are all connected in some way and that animals can't be simply dismissed as food and pets who don't get go to heaven when they die. I can tell you of many an animal that deserves a spot much more than I do.

I mentioned in my slightly manic previous post about wanting a dog. I have always had a pet, every moment of my life, except for the last 2 years. When we were children, if a dog died one night, we'd have a new puppy by the time we were home from school the next day. Either a stray would adopt us and we'd keep it, or we'd go to the pound for a new one. There were plenty of times when there were multiple dogs or a dog and a couple of cats. I'm not much of a cat person when it comes to having my very own. I'm just not drawn to them in that way, but I love them. I loved Spanky and Darla.

When I was born we had Frenchie. She was part Great Dane and part Boxer. She was the sweetest dog except for times I'd be playing in the yard and a stranger walked by. I was her pup. No one was allowed near me who she didn't know and trust. Frenchie was poisoned one afternoon. My next door neighbor's house was burglarized that night. We believe they were connected.

After Frenchie we got Fella. He was 1 or 2 years old when we adopted him. He was part Shepherd and part Collie. He was tan and white with long Collie hair. He was the dog of most of my childhood. He was with us from the time I was about 6 until 16. When we moved from the city to the suburbs my parents took him to the pound and had him put to sleep. I thought for the longest time that they were just evil and uppity and didn't want a dog in their new house. The truth is that Fella had cancer and was dying and my parents could bring themselves to tell me. I cried for years when I thought of him. I talked about him every time I'd see a dog. Everyone has heard about Fella. He appeared in my dreams for at least 10 years. The dreams would be so real I would wake up and expect him to be at the foot of my bed. I would be wide awake and swear I could hear his tags clinking on his collar. I fully expected to turn around and see him again one day. I never have.

We had Duchess, a long-haired chihuahua, Sheba, an sooner, Spanky, Champ, and 8 of Sheba's puppies as well as the others. There was one other black dog that followed me home, but he didn't stay very long. I don't remember his name.

When I graduated from college, my parents bought me Samson, my Yorkie baby. He went with me into my marriage and died 5 months (or a year and 5 months, I can't remember) before I left. I had to put him down because it was killing me to watch him suffer from an enlarged heart. If I could have chosen who in the house would get put down, it wouldn't have been Samson. We had another Yorkie too, Rudy. I lost him in the custody battle. He's still with his dad, as far as I know.

So, on April 23rd, I will officially reach my second anniversary of doglessness--oh, and of leaving my marriage. Yay! I ache for a dog. Ache. Isn't it funny that I don't ache for a man? I will adjust to life without I companion whose socks I may see on my floor, but I cannot adjust to life without a dog. I really don't want to move again, but I may have to since I can't have a dog in my current apartment. It is just that serious. This is worse than my fleeting hankering to have a child.

Anyway, Heart offered one view of animal presence in one's life. I found it fascinating and have taken the quiz below to see what my animal totem is. Check it:

What is your Inner Spirit Totem Animal?

The WolfYou are protected by the great spirit of the Wolf; a stalwart seeker of truth and justice and adament hunter of those who oppress and depress. You value truth and honor above all else, protector of the innocent and defender of the weak. Your quote: "All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost"
Take this quiz!








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So, I did some more research to see the difference between a dog totem and a wolf totem (as Heart has so aptly instructed that these animals are not the same.)

Dog totem: Faithfulness and Protection

The Dog is a symbol of the small becoming the great. People with this totem have great spirit and a great ability to love. It takes a lot to break a dog spirit.People with a Dog totem are usually helping others or serving humanity in some way. Dog medicine embodies the loving gentleness of best friend and the fierce energy of protector.

You will have a deep understanding and compassion of human shortcomings. Study the quality of the breed of dog that has entered your life: is it a hunter, a protector, a companion, playful? Each of these qualities will give you insight into the qualities needed for your own life. A Dog totem is a great spirit booster.

Wolf totem: Intuition, Learning, Spirit

This totem brings faithfulness, inner strength and intuition when he enters our lives. But he also brings learning to live with one's self. The wolf teaches us to learn about our inner self and to find our inner power and strength. But to achieve this, we must take risks and face our deepest fears. A wolf totem demands sincerity. This totem demands a lot of us but gives us much in return; a spirit helper that is always there to help and gives us extraordinary powers of endurance.

He reminds us to listen to our inner thoughts and trust our insights. They remind us not to waste resources and to learn how to avoid trouble and confrontations. People with Wolf totems have the capacity to make quick and firm emotional attachments. Trust your insights about these attachments. Wolf will guide you. Take control of your life with Wolf’s help and do so with harmony and discipline.

I think it's so interesting how all of creation interacts with one another and how often we miss it. Wolf and Dog each say so much about who I am and what matters most to me. The timing is uncanny. I am contemplating a significant career shift. I am reminded today of what matters most to me.

The strangest things happen to me when I'm facing a major decision. I'll tell you more about this in a couple of days.

I'm In the Silliest Mood Ever - UPDATED

I am in the craziest mood today. I'm sitting in my office today wondering how to convince my boss to let the office go home early. I want to try, "Boss, they crucified my Lord today." I would enhance it by singing Were You There When they Crucified My Lord. But, she'd probably burst out laughing at me, as I wouldn't be able to do it with a straight face. I didn't even know it was Easter until a couple of days ago. I'm so out of the loop.

I have also decided that it's time for me to get a puppy. I need a dog in my life. At first I couldn't afford one, but things are a changin' in the "Lex is perpetually broke" department. Stay tuned for that one down the pike. I do want a doggie though, and my apartment doesn't allow them. I don't want to move again, so I'm thinking of telling the rental office he's my guide dog. Katrice doesn't think they'll buy a seeing-eye-yorkie. Stupid rental office people!

Katrice has an cubicle mate that talks to her incessantly and she can't bring herself to tell him to shut the fuck up. So I told him for her today. We were IMing and I typed: SHUT UP, "DUDE" over and over again in our IM window as large and red as possible (I used his name), so if he turned around his nosy ass would see it. Katrice tried to keep typing to make my messages scroll. I think I won. Too bad he didn't see it.

The subject matter of my work is rape. All day, everyday. Not a good combination with me in the mood I'm in. I have had some of the most politically incorrect laughs of all times in my office today. FemeNazi's everywhere would have my head. I even laughed uncontrollably when telling the story of the mentally retarded victim who said she tried to kill herself by putting her hands around her own neck and squeezing "really, really hard". F**k off and don't tell me how inappropriate that was. I already know and it was still funny as hell. It still is!!

Some client keeps faxing us the same documents she's already sent us 15 COPIES of. The damn fax machine won't stop ringing. Our intern is freaking out and all I can do is laugh at her. People are so pushy when they want to get an attorney.

I am so broke this week that I keep waiting for a merchant to confiscate my debit card. Like everything else today, I'll find that freaking hilarious too. I wonder if they'll shred it on the spot.

There goes the damn fax again!!! Hahahahahahahahaha!!!

The cleaning lady just came in and told us that we're the only ones left in the building. Everyone else is gone.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

The office phone just rang. The paralegal yells, "Not it!!" I answer the phone and the person has the wrong number. They ask for "Mrs. Davis". I said there's no Davis here. She asked, "Is your mom or dad home?" WTF???? Do I sound FIVE????

My nephew and Katrice and Kwesi's kids tease me about being in one of these silly moods. They always say, "It's the wine." But, it's never when I've been drinking wine or anything else for that matter. It's just me being me. I promise you I did not avail myself of Austin Grill's happy hour that starts at 2pm. That was last Friday.

The paralegal is singing. She is so damn tone deaf she makes Sanjaya sound like Elton John. Can someone type SHUT THE F**K UP, TIFF in my IM window. Pretty, please.

I really need a pitch for getting us sprung. I have spring fever so bad. Never mind that it's snowing today. SNOW for Easter. What's that Al Gore was talking about??

I had dinner with my cousin last night. It was so much fun. One day we'll (me and you my blog buddy) have to chat about me and gay men. I'm a magnet for them and I can't figure out why.

Done now. Going to shop for Yorkie guide dog. Peace.

And Happy Easter!!! (If I'm still allowed to say that after all of my irreverence.)

UPDATE: So, paralegal just announced that she has to pee. Intern tells her that we do have bathrooms down the hall. I suggest that we think of alternatives. How many different places have you peed? I used to pee over the side of the bathtub if someone was using the one and only toilet we had in our house. Or I'd pee in the sink next to the washing machine. I called that the "downstairs bathroom" as our washroom was in the basement. Anybody ever peed outside and end up peeing in your shoe? Or on the back of your waistband? I have.

Where have you peed?