What happened in Vegas...29 and Fabulous

I arrived in Vegas on the 10th, approximately 15 minutes before my official b-day. My original plan was to turn 29 on the beaches of Cuba...but as per usual my champagne and caviar tastes weren't quite supported by my tuna fish budget. No worries though, I had a plan B, Vegas for the first time...only 8 years later than I originally planned to go...accompanied by the ever amusing Mz. Blu. Well, through technical difficulties and what I see as a conspiracy on the part of the Universe, I ended up on plan C, a solo trip which means most of what happened in Vegas will stay there...no witnesses :).

What I will say, is that I had a fabulous time. Through another quirk of the Universe (oh such a fabulous sense of humor!)I had no hotel room until my actual b-day, meaning I had to pull an all-nighter. I was prepared for this, though admittedly it's been a while since I was nocturnal to that degree. After a quick stop at the Mirage (my luxurious home base) to check my luggage and change into my fabulous red dress, I headed to the Wynn Hotel. Coco knew somebody, who knew somebody, who put me on the VIP list at Tryst, so my second stop from the airport was the club...as it should be.

Vegas first impressions:
1)There really are slot machines in the airport!
2)Everything is so big and well lit.
3)I've never seen so many big-breasted women in my life!
4)Was that really Tom Jones or just a look alike?

Tryst: Picture a rap video filled with scantily clad big busted white women in black lingerie or minuscule tan flapper dresses fringed with pearls. Add in red couches, break dancers, and a 3 story waterfall, and that is Tryst. I had a $12 rum and coke, vowing not to pay for another drink, and then I danced and danced taking breaks to sit and people watch. Going to the club alone is always a little awkward, but I knew myself enough to know I had to commit to having fun in advance. Usually you get what you expect, so I expected the best and yeah, it was fun.

Left Tryst around 3ish. It was time to change shoes. Hit the Mirage again and won $25in the Penny slots. Then I did a random walking tour checking out the Bellagio, Treasure Island, Caesar's Palace, Paris, and an assortment of other phatty hotels and casinos. Everything is so big, it's not like they're as close as they look, but I had some time and it was nice to walk. I watched the sun come up over the strip, had breakfast in Paris, and took a nap by a pool. By the time I was ready to check in, I had found a mall and I seriously felt like I had been in Vegas for 3 days.

I spent the rest of b-day napping and shopping. Then I took myself out for steak at Kahunaville where there was a bartender competition where the bartenders did all sorts of tricks (like something out of the movie Cocktail) like juggling multiple bottles and balancing bottles on their noses. That's the thing about Vegas, it is all about entertainment. The bathroom is the only slot machine free zone, after a while I felt like hiding out there just to avoid the sound.

I saw some more sights, gambled, shopped, had delicious food, watched the Olympics on the flat screen TV in my super stylish room, went out on a date, read, walked, watched some great free shows and so stupid free shows, and in general enjoyed my own company. But the ultimate highlight of my trip was going to KA by Cirque du Soleil. Words fail to describe how kick ass this show was. It was expensive but worth every penny. I saw things I'd never seen before. I literally felt the wind knocked out of me watching them perform these super human feats, and so gracefully. Between the ever evolving sage and the dramatic costumes, trapeze stunts and the rolling cages, I was completely and totally floored.




Though Vegas is one big festival of distractions and entertainment designed to keep your mind and money occupied, I was surprised to find myself having some moments of clarity. Even with the never ending ching of slot machines, I had some time to think about my year and my life. There have been so many changes and I know that there are many more to come, so my birthday wish for 29 is to weather these changes with grace and agility, to accept the sometimes strange gifts of the universe with joy and wonder, and to fully love and embrace the person I am, the person I am becoming, and the space of unique and beautiful choices I am creating everyday. Blowing out the candles now.

Ahhhh Working Again :(

I started my new job on August 1st, though I can't technically quit my old job until September 1st. In the meantime I am using my insurance as much as possible, experimenting with acupuncture and getting my back adjusted. I will say this for my crappy job, it has a great benefits package. I am beginning to discover some of the benefits of my new job though. My boss is really nice. That is a huge plus. Also there is no shortage of treats. Turns out, I work with a whole bunch of Leos, so every few days there is another birthday (mine is Monday) and each birthday is celebrated with some kind treat and a little community time.

Today was my boss' birthday, so we had a special breakfast...fresh blueberries, granola, yogurt, scones, and cinnamon rolls. Afterwards I went to work on some of the most mind numbingly boring tasks ever. After a while I though I might go blind from staring at the computer screen. It occurs to me that I have been very focused on the teaching aspect of my job and not so much on what it would be like to do the administrative stuff. With no kids until after Labor Day, I am realizing how much I really don't like working in general. I'm not a lazy ass...I can and do work hard and well, it's just that when I stop for a moment to think if I am happy, there is a loud voice in my head that says "I could be sing karaoke!" Or writing, or painting, or sleeping or any number of other things that would be infinitely more inspiring.

I have a friend that sometimes reminds me of Eyor from Winnie the Pooh. She is constantly in a state of mopey crabbiness and she has told me repeatedly to suck it up and give into the truth, that truth being that work is always bad even when it's easy and the pay is good. I don't want this to my truth, but I can't help but wonder what I can do to make everyday a better day.

When I woke up this morning, the sun was shining (always a luxury in Seattle) and I felt healthy and energetic. I spent some time meditating on my half completed vision board, reading through the weekly affirmations of my small group in the class I take at the Center for Spiritual Living, and just in general praying. I left the house in high spirits, but fast forward 8 hours...and I feel wretched. No horrible thing happened to me at work. Everyone was kind to me and treated me with respect. And yet I can't help wondering, is that all there is? Do you just pick the least irritating version of a job you can and hold onto it until you retire...what kind of life is that, a continuous state of holding your breath for weekends and vacations. I can't wait for the kids to get to school....but what happens if school starts and I still feel listless. Really and truly there has to be something better. I'm just having trouble getting there from here.

Universal Blockage + Entertaining 1st Date

Last week Mz Blu, Shewhodancesallthetime, and I hit up the War Room for what we thought would be reggae night, but ended up being 80s night. It started out as another frustrating evening of so so music and so so dudes. After the first 2 hours, the only two people who hit on me were a midget from Nicaragua and a very scary white lesbian. I was cranky and drinking, a bad combo, but it was nice to be moving my body and Mz Blu, as always, provided serious comic relief by pelting Shewhodancesallthetime with ice cubes and performing the off-beat dance (so common around these parts). It was around then that we met some gentlemen from the Navy in town for Seafair. They were an interesting bunch and one of them was cute, so I attempted to talk to him. He was also dumb as a rock (such a waste), but it was fun dancing anyway and that is how I ended up meeting the Entertainer. When I say meet, I mean that in a very loose way because I spent most of my time meeting the dumb rock, but it was the Entertainer...totally seperate, non-military, and random guy who ended up with my number. He called the next day and we had our first date yesterday.

Backing up to why this is all so funny. Mz Blu refers to that night, as my temper tantrum with the Universe because I was so irritated by what I was manifesting that I cussed out the Universe. I do want to date, but I have standards and what I realized when looking at the nice abs and vacant expression of the dumb rock is that I am really not trying to compromise my standards and that, while limiting, is totally a good thing.

Greta, Shoshana and I visited CSL yesterday and the whole theme was about forgiveness. The sermon made some great points one of which is that the Universe never blocks you from anything. If there is a block, you are creating it. That was hard to hear, but true so I thought about that in regards to my whole dating / non-dating thing and realized that I was ready to be unblocked.I forgave myself and moments later,I was on my way to Rain for sushi with the Entertainer.

First dates are always kind of awkward, it's the equivilant of a romantic job interview, particularly when you are meeting that person for the first time sober, but we did have some good convo on the phone before hand so I was more excited than nervous for sushi and chillin. As per usual, I was ultra punctual. I actually tried to wait so that we would arrive around the same time, but he got a little lost, having never really been to Wallingford, and was hella late. So there I was sitting there alone long enough so that the bartender gave me a free drink, but the whole time the Entertainer was texting me, so it wasn't too bad. He arrived smelling good and dressed well. Turns out he has a degree in sociology, works for a bank and used to be a stand up comic.

Meanwhile, Rain had a really big weekend, so they had begun running out of things from tuna to limes. We had to keep changing our order. We did get some free sushi out of it because the owner felt bad, but that is when the comedy kicked in. The first part of the date went well. I felt comfortable. He is totally chatty and funny, then after a few drinks, I feel like the date shifted from a date to a skit...hence he will be known as the Entertainer. While he was funny, and I was properly entertained, I liked it better when we were just talking and he wasn't performing. After dinner we took a walk and hung out some more. It is possible that there will be a second date...I guess it's kind of a case of getting what you wish for though. Now that I've broken the dating seal I'm not sure of what I hope to accomplish. I mean I guess you don't have to know exactly what you want at every moment of everyday, but it would be nice. For now I am content for having met someone pretty cool and taken a chance on a little romance, as cheesy as that may be.

Vision Boarding Party Part 1

Yesterday after dragging my ass to Taekwondo, I came home to find a very busy Mz Blu, my accidental but very cool recent roomate. She was in deep cleaning mode, a strange state where OCD meets ADD and suddenly there are no more dirty dishes or dust on the windowsill. After shining every piece of metal from faucets to door handles, mopping, vacuuming, dusting, and re stacking all my books, Mz Blu decided to reintegrate some of the paintings from art show onto the walls. Then she decided more of the art could be put up and set about hanging paintings on every bare surface. The end result is that my place is festive, properly sterilized, and ready for company...so right on cue we held a small vision board party.

I made my first vision board several months ago. It's a white foam board painted red, blue, and purple with a yellow haze around my smiling picture. I used magazines and cut out words and pictures that best illustrated my vision for what I want to show up in my life from joy and prosperity to getting my black belt and publishing my book. This time my vision is much more streamline, still colorful but clearer.

I'm still not quite done, and neither is anyone else, so there will be a sequel to the party, but the best part was just hanging out. Taus and Krisp Forms from TKD stopped by. As usual Taus fell asleep and my chair and made me looks at a million pictures from her online scrap book. Then Greta arrived from Tacoma and we all sat around painting and collaging, drinking tea and eating my mom's best recipe for sharp cheddar and macaroni. Mz. Blu's boy toy arrived shortly after that and as Krisp Forms and Taus left, Coco showed up. It was a very chill and very fun afternoon that reminded me to be thankful for all the wonderful things happening in my life, the center of which is my community of cool peoples who are ever present with love, support and stupid jokes.

Bittersweet at the Triple Door

What better way to spend the last few moments of my staycation than out on the town with the lovely Coco at the Triple Door for Bittersweet live in concert. Coco is the one responsible for hooking me on such musical fabulousness as Thievery Corporation,Late Night Alumni,Blue Six, Olive, Everything but the Girl, Kaskade, and Res. She has an addiction to unique beats and quirky but sensual female vocalist...which is exactly how one would characterize Shana Halligan, the lead singer of Bittersweet. For those of you unfamiliar with the band, you've probably heard one of the title tracks from their last album The Mating Game on ABC's comedy Samantha Who. Their music has also cameoed in Sex in the City. They have a unique sound: part James Bond sountrack, part funk meets electronic...add in violins and sultry vocals, with deliciously flirtaous lyrics and you've got Bittersweet...a very tongue and cheek minksy vibe.

Though I've lived in Seattle for a total of 5 years (not consecutively), I'd never been to the Triple Door, man do I feel cheated. Coco and I got didn't get all dolled up for nothing, the venue was classy and elegant. We passed by the musiquarium...which is the outer lounge where you can have a drink and if you're too broke or too cheap to get tickets to the mainstage you can at least enjoy the music filtered in from the concert. Then a host lead us to our seats (excellent seats) along the wall stage left. It's an intimate venue that used to be a Burleque theater and retains some of the original architecture (very cool date spot).

We arrived in time to have a leasurely and fantastic dinner. Kiran Shihani, basist and co-creator of Bittersweet himself stood right next to our table...while we tried to decide whether or not that was him (it was!).

The Triple Door is one of the few places you can get a mojito comparable to mine. The tuna sashimi bruschetta was amazing and totally different than anything I'd ever had. DJ Self-Inflicted Beat Down...yes, that's his name... spun an eclectic mix of grown folks music that had us groovin in our seats. I'm going to have to google him to see where he's playing next.When we had finished our equally delicious meals (I had the ankorwat chicken, she had the 7 flavored beef and we split the seshwan green beans all of which was yummy)and I had made the long trip up and down the stairs to the ladies room (definately not assessible for wheel chairs or stiletto heels) the lights went down.

Kiran Shihani, a guitarist, an electric violinist, a DJ, and a percussionist took the stage and started jammin. Above the stage was screen filled with cool pyschodelic imagery that changed from song to song from old movie clips of belly dancers to cool spirals to a very fat cat (again I say quirky, but very cool). The backdrop was a faux midnight sky with blue and green electronic stars flickering....very, very cool. The band set the mood, Kiran swankily dancing his way over to the basist then back to the violinist. And then in fluttered Shana Halligan barefoot and in this hot and swanky white floor length crocheted gown with a plunging back line. She wore her auburn hair in wavy curls down to her mid back, accented on top by a pokey flower. The lady had moxy. She sang alternating between two mics while dancing on a white fake fur rug. In between songs she would mutter something incoherent and take a sip of red wine(conveniently placed on a pedastool beside her rug).

Despite the multi-million dollar sound system, they never did manage to strike a good balance between the vocals and music. On the CD it is already sometimes hard to catch what she's saying given her lisp and the way she sings, but live it was almost impossible. Yet somehow this did not detract from the overall performance. They were brilliant. There were these sexy tamborine bongo moments where I wanted to push the table away and jump up and dance, but then I glanced over at a woman who had gone with her urge. I swear if she hadn't been standing I would have thought she was having a prolonged epoleptic seizure...but no, she was just movin and groovin. Why is it always the people who have no business dancing in public who are the first to take off there shoes and do the ass baring shimmy? So I didn't dance, but I did thoroghly enjoy the evening and I will for absolutely be in the audience when Bittersweet hits Seattle again.

Something Old, Something New, and Sucks to be Blue

Okay so I'm not getting married...at least not anytime soon. Though here's what is old, me being single. I have ceased being singlicious, which is a delicious state of voluntary solitude filled with flirtation and having lots of fun and have slipped into the doldrums of being single. What is the difference? Optimism.

Last weekend my Dad and I were watching that new CNN Black in America series and there was this segment where they basically talk about where all the black men are. I've heard it all before: 1/3 are in jail, then there are those who are gay or on the downlow, then there are those who die before 20, and then there are those who are committed to only dating white women, which leaves like 2 eligible bachelors and a million fabulously gorgeous and smart black women to compete with. And so the story goes. According to my church, which is admittedly a bit "woo woo", there is abundance in the universe and you can get what you want and I want to date black men...lots of them, fabulously gorgeous, tall, well traveled and educated black men. But apparently the universe doesn't include Seattle for whatever reason, because something is blocking me from my abundance.

Had dinner with Mz Blu and her boy toy dujour. He is a Seattle native and as such knows lots of people in the community, so we enlisted in him in my endeavour to get a list of dateable characters. By the time we went through his list, HE got all pouty and depressed and apologized to me on behalf of the city because he said I just wasn't going to find what I need. This put me in a really shitty mood. One of my biggest pet peeves is people telling me No. It just makes me want to wheel kick said person in the head...but this is not helpful. Meanwhile as September nears, I will be at the one year anniversary of my break up with the big round headed loser, which means that even with the dating half life rule (it takes 2 days to every 1 day you were with that person to get over them), I should thoroughly be over it by now.

So now what? Though I know Internet dating is all the rage, especially in this passive aggressive computer nerd filled community, I am just not that into it. You can't really read people over the computer. I want to see facial expressions. The other suggestion that has been made to me is that I exercise my options and date outside my race. Well FYI, I've done that with mixed results, and continue to do that. My only firm stipulation has been no more white guys, but I date across the brown through black spectrum from Shrilankan to Senegalese. So why no white guys? After a while I just got tired of having to explain basic things like prejudice and have them not understand...and then I also had several "guess who's coming to dinner moments" and that gets old very quickly.

So here's what's new. I made The List of what I want. It's 5 pages long, typed and single spaced...3 with revisions, so I won't print the whole thing here, but I am going to paraphrase. My major lesson for this summer has been you have to say what it is that you want. So here is what I am asking the universe for and if you see him, let me know.



I want a good brown to black man who is tall, thick, and hot like fire, preferable resembling the Rock. Someone who is really smart, believes in God, likes to (and can!)dance, likes to clean, is a good communicator in good health, with good hygiene and treats me like the goddess I am. He must be the truth, single, with no kids, but ready, able and willing to love me and be a good feminist partner, lover, husband, and father to my 1-2 kids (that we will have after a year engagement and a nice wedding on the beach in Bali). He should be well read, easy to chill with, funny, interesting, and good at ironing. Telling good stories, giving good massages, and singing to me would be a plus. I'm also partial to men who are independent, financially savvy and have something to teach me, but are also willing to learn from me. He has a good relationship with his family, a good work ethic, his own friends and ambitions and is an amazing lover. There's more, but that's the gist of it. Oh, and must be willing to travel and adventure with me. Holla.

The end of summer as I know it

I don't mind the break in heat, but watching the gray resettle where the sun has been and getting caught in a light drizzle reminds that summer is never really promised, especially not here. It snowed in late June and here it is barely the end of July and already getting cool. I'm trying not to care, but each cloud reminds me that my fabulous month and half staycation is rapidly coming to an end. On Friday, August 1st, I start my new job. Part of me is excited. I like teaching and I like my school community. I've spent my summer bumping into students and parents and future coworkers, and every experience has just reinforced the positive vibe I feel from the job.

The other part of me associates work with the dull mindnumbing irritation that was the job that sucked my soul...while I know things will be a million times better at the new job, I still can't quite shake the feeling of impending doom. I don't want to work. I want to win the power ball and spend the next month picking out a new home in Wallingford where I will sip mojitos from my second story porch hammock and make perfect omlettes at 2:00am with all the lights on and the music at a respectable level simply because I can. I want to be independently wealthy and learn to surf in Hawaii and visit places like Bora Bora and Martinique. I want to have vacation houses in Brazil and Bali and have a personal trainer who closely resembles the Rock...scratch that, I want the actual Rock to be my trainer...why should I skimp, it's my fantasy.

But my reality is lots of cool little kids and hopefully some time and structure to finally finish my first full novel. It's going to be great, I just have to let go. In the meantime, like the true procrastinator I am, I spent most of today reading through the thick packet of summer reading I recieved a month ago. Apparently as part of out professional development all us teachers have to read and subsquently discuss some articles on education.

So far, it's got me thinking. There was an article questioning if google is making us "stoopid" and one about morality, but thus far the most interesting article comes from the Journal of Educational Controversy. It's titled: Dispositions for Good Teaching by Gary R Howard. Since I made the decision to interview for this job I have been kind of stressed about it. I guess change, even good and totally long overdue change is kind of scary. It's silly. I know I am a good teacher, and I don't feel conceited saying that, I've worked hard to learn how to teach and I have a natural ability to connect with my students and get them to understand things. I've taught for two and a half years, not including this past year of subbing, but in the past I've always taught English.

Teaching Spanish was never in my plan. I mostly learned Spanish to chat up cute guys and make poetry out of swear words. I'm good at it. Though I tested into the lowest Spanish level when I first moved to Spain (I spent my junior year abroad there), by the second week, they were asking me to move up because there is something in my brain that just connects with communicating. I remember the panic I felt during my first few weeks. I was scared of getting laughed at, of not being understood or worse of not understanding, but I got through it and learned an impressive array of Cadiz street slang. I can still curse like a sailor and tell jokes. I can even explain how to play my favorite card games and how I like my mojitos made, but none of this can be taught to 4th and 5th graders. What am I doing? What if I am a disaster at teaching Spanish? I got through my demo lesson and my interviews and stuff, but I keep having these anxiety dreams where I can't remember how to say carrot and the kids keep asking me how to say things like ninja or hammer and I just can't remember and then they mutinee because I'm stupid.

Okay I think I'm digressing. I was starting to talk about this article I read in which Gary Howard examines two big questions: "First, what are the qualities of personhood that the adults in our nation's classrooms must embody to be worthy of teaching our richly diverse students? And second, how do we best prepare ourselves and our colleauges for this work?" The short answer is that I don't really know. My guess is that as long as you are smart and patient and don't mind fart jokes that teaching 4th and 5th grade should be okay, but I guess I just don't know how to prepare myself for another adventure into the unknown. So for lack of something better to do, I am reading and taking notes and thinking and taking long walks around greenlake and counting down the days until I actually have to have the answer to both those questions.

In the meantime I am also deciding what to do about my training. Several months ago, I wrote a proposal and received funding to attend a global learning seminar where I met with colleauges and worked on developing a training for faculty on best practices when taking diverse groups of students abroad for short term study abroad programs. Come September I will no longer be affiliated with the job that sucked my soul and therefore am not entirely obligated to follow through with the training. Quite frankly one of the reasons I chose to stay here this summer, as opposed to leading another trip abroad myself, is that I have felt burnt out and I needed time to recover. So now that it's all ending and the time for my training to come to fruition is near, I am still kind of numb. In my head I know that this is a unique opportunity to really walk the talk. It's cutting edge stuff in my field, but even more importantly it's a training that could potentially help better the experiences of the many students who will travel abroad through my ex-institution.

As I contemplate this decision, I think about Howard's questions. What does it take and how can the admin prepare you? This is essentially what my training would wrestle with only in a unique global learning context. Howard talks about how the teachers and the students' identities and dispositions create the context in which educational experiences are framed. Though I know I have all the peices to put together this puzzle...I have the experience, the book knowledge, the research, I still feel a bit daunted. What if my answers are wrong?