Small Talk is Awful.
I don’t like small talk. It’s annoying, and time consuming, and it takes sooooo loooong to get to anything good. I wish people could just be who they are. *sigh*
It’s rare that I’m interested in hearing about the new shoes you found on sale at a store I’ve never shopped in. Likewise, I acknowledge that you are probably not interested in the motherboard reviews from the most recent issue of CPU, so I’ll spare you my opinion. But, if you’re going to tell me about your shoes, tell me something real. Like maybe they remind you of shoes your mom wore when she was young, and she always looked beautiful in them. Or maybe the color is exactly the same color as your first car, and you remember sitting in it after high school listening to No Doubt on the radio and dreaming of the boy you liked.
I know, I’m as bad as the next person most of the time. I keep things neat, and on the surface. I don’t get into the nitty gritty unpolished bits. I like to believe we all have deep and rich inner worlds, so why don’t we share that stuff more often? Wouldn’t it help us focus on what is really important, rather than on all the crap?
Comfort In My Skin
One of the things I love about belly dance is the way it can bring me back in touch with my body. Any conscious movement would do roughly the same thing – yoga, running, swimming, etc. – but dancing also gives you an amazing opportunity to blend your physical self with your creative self. It’s a definite confidence builder, and it happens when you aren’t even paying attention.
I found this short documentary a while back and it does a great job covering why I’m so excited about belly dance. In the video, the women seem pretty typical, very similar to the people I’ve met in class. There are many different shapes and ages, and yet they all look graceful, confident, and like they’re having fun!
Also, I’m constantly amazed at the over-all intelligence level of the women who choose this creative outlet. Many of them are leaders. They are earning masters degrees and breaking glass ceilings in their career fields. It’s an amazing environment to be in. If you’ve ever been curious about taking a class, go do it!
David Bazan and Wye Oak
Last week I went to see David Bazan play at The Turf Club. I’ve been listening to his music for a long time, but seeing him play live as Pedro the Lion a couple of times in the early 2000′s really cemented me as a life-long fan. His religious fall-out since that time makes him all the more fascinating to me, so I was really glad I got to see him play again. (I’m a religious doubter/skeptic. Maybe I’ll write about that another day.)
Before David’s amazing set, I really enjoyed being introduced to Wye Oak, a Baltimore, MD duo. When I’m hearing something for the first time, and it’s really good, it can be intoxicating. I feel flushed and my heart beats louder in my chest. My eyes open wider, as if I can somehow absorb more of the experience that way. I probably look like I’m about to have a heart attack or something, heh.
Here’s a taste for you. I wish it lived up to the live show, but alas…
City Night Life.
My belly dance class this session is in Minneapolis, in the Lowry Hill neighborhood. By the time class gets out, it’s somewhat late. Bars are open and some people have polished off more than a couple. While waiting at my bus stop to go back home to the suburbs, I’m almost sure to see someone interesting… or they’ll see me.
It’s hard to describe the guy who decided I’d be his entertainment for a few minutes last night. It’s possible he was homeless, but it’s also possible that he just didn’t prefer bathing. I didn’t bother to ask. He stopped me and asked if I was an ex-service person, probably because I was half-practicing the choreography I’d just learned at class and under my heavy coat it may have looked like I was doing some kind of drill. Of course, I made the mistake of answering and being cordial, so he decided we should chat until my bus came. There were other people at the bus stop though, and the intersection is pretty well lit, so whatever. I didn’t mind listening to him babble a bit.
The thing was, after a while, he wanted to know my story. I didn’t have an answer for him. I could tell him what I do for a living, and what I spend time on, but I couldn’t tell him “who” I am, other than to say that I’m a daughter, sister, and wife. Now, I know who I am, but I can never seem to put it into words that sound the way I want them to. *shrug* Anyway, it was an interesting experience and it certainly got me thinking. Maybe someday I’ll find the words.
Every Post…
When you blog under your own name, every post is an adventure. Will I write something that’ll haunt me someday? If a future employer finds this, will they be amused? Disappointed? What about those who read it right now, like my family, or the people I work with? Do they enjoy peeking into my mind, or is it just too much information?
When you speak to someone face to face there are certain filters that you use. If you know someone well, your filter is completely different than when you’re talking to a stranger. When I write, it’s like I’m leaking spit-polished bits of my internal monologue out there into the world. There is a filter, certainly, but it’s not the same as the kinds I use when I speak.
So, if you ever meet me, don’t be surprised when I’m nothing like you imagine I’d be.
I sometimes wonder if I should have a cut-off date for my archives. Does anyone need to read blog posts from several months ago? Years ago? Life is ever-evolving, and I’ve been known to change my mind about things. I mean, politicians are often haunted by statements they made, or papers they wrote, ten years ago. It could happen to me, too. It’s impossible to know what the lasting effects of my goofy-arse words may be.
For now, I’ll just hope that anyone who reads this thing has a sense of humor. *grin*
Your Host
Feed and Read
