love in all caps

Sometimes people just need to be looked in the face and made to feel real.

Love the old people.  Think I get more real every day from working there.

Also currently trying to learn this dance.

Tutorial: HERE (It’s only for the first minute or so of the video)

If you’re looking for Capital Letters YOU’RE HOME

The Denver Salsa and Bachata Congress was magical.  SERIOUSLY good dancing.  I was on a high for two days at work when I got back.  SPEAKING of which. 

I thought it would be fun in the airport line to try and guess who just came to Colorado for the pot, but I think most of the people were there for some football game.

Colorado used to represent a place for out-doorsy people.  Now apparently it’s a place for out-doorsy potheads.  I didn’t meet any though, or if I did they were hiding it well.  True potheads will definitely tell you.  That they like pot.  Almost immediately.

anyways. The dancing was colossal.  And many other adjectives.  The men were sometimes too forward (less in deed than in word) but it’s fun to reject people and also good mental acrobatic training.. for instance.  Is this dude worth letting down gently or is he basically a douche?  Then there’s a continuum of rejection where I can either be really nice about, or totally blunt and rude.   Ball’s in my court. 

For example.

Dude:  So what are my chances percentage-wise for you taking me home tonight?
Me:  Well… On a scale of 1 to I-have-a-boyfriend, I’m about a ten.  Meaning I have a boyfriend, and your chances are zero. 

AND! AND! I had already told him that I was getting kind of creeped out by some of the blunt pick up lines that night.  I told him I didn’t trust any of the men there and WHAT DOES HE ASK ME.  FREAKING A. 

Man.  This is why I love my boyfriend.  He would never have gone for these cheap lines.  I don’t like men who think they’re smooth.  Arrogance goes hand in hand with manipulation.  I don’t have time for that.

Here is a video from the congress. This man is inspiring.  Wish I would have filmed him speaking about dancing.

“What are you rehearsing for?”  Get out there and dance.

te deseo oh oh oh

Are swiss people generally sort of standoffish / not really people persons, or did I just hit a rich vein of them here?

Hmm.  Holding off on that stereotype for now.

This song is now my theme song for the Dominican Republic.

Zion y Lennox Ft. Farruko Y Yandel – Pierdo La Cabeza

It’s a style of music called dembow

Also heard this gem while at the beach, (Spanish, not Dominican, but oh well)

Nach scratch – Te Quiero

que lo que pasa aqui?

So my dance instructor tried to get it today.  We were dancing and he’s getting closer and closer… the wall is behind me… I had to physically shove him away.  He later apologized for behaving “unprofessionally”.    I know he has a girlfriend.  He doesn’t know that I know that apparently.


I guess I need to have our lessons somewhere more public.  My mom is all “YOU NEED TO STOP LESSONS NOW.  but I don’t know. I’m leaving anyways soon.  And I’m really good at rejecting people (thanks to the OB).

Maybe I should just bring up his girlfriend in casual conversation.  I’ve  been the other woman before, unknowingly, and it freaking sucked.  I would never ever do that in cold blood.   At least he didn’t push it.

But South Americans you know?  I wanna say they all cheat, because that’s all I freaking see.  I’m sure there’s gotta be some that don’t  but where the heck are they?  I guess you don’t come to America to be chaste and faithful.  ugh.

been browsing dance vids all day instead of cleaning or doing my homework.  Which brings me to Megan Batoon.  She is majestic.  Not sure if I wanna do her or be her, but if I had to read the signs I’d say I was about 84 percent lesbian for this AMAZING dancer.

bust it

favorite favorite favorite Japanese dude in the whole world.
This kid is one crazy dancer.  If you are coming to Patong Beach, Thailand, I highly recommend the Banana Discotheque.  Spent an amazing couple of hours here.

I think I remember that I loved to dance in high school, but I don’t think it was an obsession like it is now…  Nobody in Mott ever really danced, some did (poorly) if they were drunk.   I don’t know how I learned to dance while growing up without a tv set, surrounded by non-dancing friends.

“When I dance, I cannot judge, I cannot hate, I cannot separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole, that is why I dance.”

-Hans Bos

tonight’s the night, amirite?

Welcome to Seoul, South Korea.  Where everybody drinks and few to none dance.  Basically the antithesis of who I am as a person.

 I have never seen a country  more in need of ecstasy tablets.  When someone DOES make an effort to bust it I am inclined to yell WOOOOOH like the obnoxious American that I am and start applauding them vigorously.

How can you not dance when the bass is so loud your veins get confused?  Most of the club-goers move about the same as I do on a crowded subway when my headphones are serving me up something particularly rousing.  A bob of the head.  A bit of foot-tapping.

I hope Thailand has less shy people.

I can’t imagine it could possibly have more.


Refusing to dance is like a bird refusing to fly.  Never understood why you feel the need to pretend you are a penguin instead of a falcon, but this is Respect Your Feet 101 and tonight you are going to realize why the word “move” was invented in the first place.  Don’t let your wings regress to shoulderblades, dormancy (from the Latin root dormire, meaning to sleep) is the one thing you must never accept from yourself. Wake up.  Lose sleep, lose your inhibitions, but never lose your rhythm.  All horizontal surfaces are renamed dance floors until further notice.   I swear I fall half in love every time the bass kicks in.

The dance floor is my temple, the DJ is my priest, and this?

This is my altar call so don’t make me beg you.

Bust it.

Wanna be my chammak challo?  
I was dancing some Bhangra moves downtown (at a club that does not play Hindi music, I might add) last night, and some random dude says to my back, “Zumba!”
I turn around and say, “naw man.. Indians!”
I realize now that he was probably confused.   hashtag don’t care. hashtag dancing completely sober.  hashtag born drunk so have no need for alcohol.


America is stupid.

Why? WHY can I not legally go out and dance?  grrrr my roommate is 21 and everyone is going out and everyone is an adult except me. 

perhaps I will finish my painting tonight

perhaps I will finish any one of my three papers that are overdue.

perhaps I will wallow in tears.  underage tears.

perhaps I will be happy I am not WRINKLY AND OLD.

 Thanksgiving was fun.  Goodnight and peace.


wont you spare
a glance for me
today? in between
swinging arms…
beat heels to
rise heartbeats
head spun like
vinyl and cigarettes
are incense to
anoint borrowed time

yesterdays are
scraps that
litter floors, flecks
of stardust kept
in vials and jars,
abandoned clothes
shelter no one

tomorrow is the
anticipation that
comes while we’re
watching the flames,
surprisingly the
sound is the best
part, water escapes
fibrous tombs to
achieve billiance