feet

Well my feet have not completely healed from LA yet (seriously if you love to dance, buy the LOWEST HEELS you can FIND), but I’m on to the Denver Salsa Congress.

So pumped.

The classes I’m taking:

Spinning Class
Latin Jazz Fussion
Afro-Colombia
Afro-Cuban Fusion
Salsa on 1
Sexy Bachata (is there any other type?)
Ladies Styling
Latin Fussion
Unbelievable Dance Patterns
Afro-Brazilian Dance
Kizomba
Afro Latin Jazz Soul Experience (Bootcamp)
Pachanga (!!!!)
Ladies Styling Bachata

AYaaaa I’m so excited.

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Tristam – My Friend

Getting excited to go to LA.

Slightly concerned about dressing for the nightlife.  As I am from North Dakota.  And I’ve never been to LA before.

OH WELL.

Reading a Kim Jong-Il production by Paul Fischer and it is incredibly fascinating.  Anyone interested in North Korea and exactly what the heck is happening over there should take a look.  I have to wonder where the author got all his information actually.

 

bring color to my skies

 We met this guy earlier in the summer at the first Salsa Explosion event and then re-met him at the second salsa explosion.  Exchanged numbers because he’s clearly an awesome dancer so I’ll probably see him in the future.

ANYWAYS.

He called me today.  Out of nowhere.  I really don’t do phone calls, they make me vaguely uneasy, even when I’m calling a close friend (which he is not).

Talked for about an hour.  Barely know him, but after I got the I-have-a-boyfriend bombshell out of the way we had a really good talk. 

People don’t do that you know?  Just call strangers (unless they’re trying to get it…)

 I really don’t get all that much real talk lately.

Oh and I may move to Minneapolis sometime this next month.  Time for a change.  And I wasn’t able to get the days that I wanted to work.  Got six shifts where I usually get 24.

Three Things.

There was an old lady with perfect skin.  Glowed like a goddess.  Smile like a sunrise, need the darkest of tinted windows/glasses to dim that.  When they asked her how her skin was so perfect at 90+ years, she just flashed this gorgeous smile and said,

“Love Everybody”.

(Well, sometimes she chalked it up to good moisturizing practices, but you can tell why I usually don’t emphasize that part)

And then you have the Ottertail River in Minnesota. Famous party spot, where people float down on inner-tubes with coolers of beer.

Where my friend got called a chink.  (Am I even allowed to type that word, it looks dirty as hell.)

Where I called someone a c*nt to their face for the very first time.

(Ask yourself if the second c-word looks so much more shocking, and why is that?)

Yes racial slurs are alive and well in rural America.

It just hurts to see it coming from my generation.

Also just so you know, if one of YOUR drunken friends ever uses a racial/homophobic/misogynistic slur in your presence, THIS IS WHAT YOU DO.

You apologize for their bad behavior.  Don’t say, “Oh he’s just super drunk.”  Say I am sorry for what he said to you.

And maybe consider getting better friends.

Well. Time for me to rid my body of disappointment and anger and go get ready to help some old people.

My instructor and I salsa dancing to San Holo’s remix of Next Episode by Dr. Dre…

 

Minor Updates

Hiding out in a Hostel, to get a break from being in the house.   (Mustache Hostel in Kailash Colony, New Delhi, it’s very nice if you wanted to know)

Just finished my first Hindi lesson which went supremely well.  I was riding some mild euphoria at finally getting out, doing something, learning something.

Finding out about all these cool things I could do, but seems I’ll have to branch out on my own IF AT ALL POSSIBLE.

Ahhh it’s been so hard to do anything.  We were going to go to Agra yesterday to see the Taj Mahal, but his dad pronounced it “too foggy” and said we couldn’t go.  So his friend went without us instead.  We spent the day at home.

I really get frustrated being cooped up like this.  I’m starting to get snappy with him, and I really don’t want to turn into one of those sitcom wife-types.

I found a place that has salsa dancing on Tuesday nights, but his mom already said I can’t go out dancing because it’s too dangerous.

Aiiya.  I told him I won’t come back to see him in India till he moves out of the house.  I think I mean it.  Never thought I’d be relieved to finally get back to Fargo, but it’s sorta looking like that.

Anyways I just bought a round trip plane ticket for Bangalore so I’ll be going there in two weeks.

___

Also:  I have almost one hundred percent decided to do El Camino this summer.  (This is a pilgrimage in Spain.)

Considering buying a smaller camera.  My nikon D700 that I bought in high school is VERY HEAVY.  I need something more low-key.

here’s a Punjabi song for you.  12 saal – bilal saeed

Brain hurts me

Tossing and turning thinking of this nursing home performance.. Dunno why this is stressing me out, pretty sure the old people will love it no matter what.  And I’m a good dancer.  But somehow I keep messing up the suicide dips and other moves I should know by now…. Merrrrr whatever. It will be a good experience. Haven’t performed dance in front of other people for over two years now.  Why is this stressing me soooo…. It’s gonna be fun.   Hope I don’t freak myself out (not like I’m not doing that now haha).  Maybe it’s best to just not volunteer to do things that make me nervous.   But then I just coast through life doing nothing but working… Maybe a challenge is good spice.   Let’s face it I have no ambition.  I can’t believe I’m actually going though with this.  Feels like my first day teaching in Thailand.

teraaaaaaa hone laga hoooooooon

well I’m getting ready to leave for India… and I realized I still haven’t fully blogged my Eurotrip.  Will do that this week (or try).

Going to be performing Salsa at the nursing home with my dance instructor (if all goes as planned! fingers crossed so hard…).  I’ve  been trying to get myself up enough to do that for about a year. FINALLY.

Today I’m buying my first set of luggage.  Figured its about time.

OH MY GAHHHH I’M GONNA BE FLUENT IN HINDI.   (Well one hopes).  Everything I’ve written today has an escape clause.  Man I’m bad at committing to things.