What a strange week it’s been! I’ll go back in history and add in some additional more detailed entries if I have time, but here’s a summary:
From Wednesday to Sunday, my sister and I converged on my parents’ place in Thousand Oaks, California (in between LA and Santa Barbara) and also enjoyed together a family outing to Sea World. And at 31, it somehow feels strange spending time with my folks.
I’m still their kid, of course, but clearly the family dynamics are different. I see my parents differently… still lovingly, but not as omniscient beings. I see more clearly their frailties but also their strengths. And while we’re all different and older, somehow at the core I guess we haven’t really changed.
And speaking of not-omniscient, I had a doctor’s appointment on Monday for my mild psoriasis, and the exchange basically went like this.
“Well, what has worked for you in the past?”
“This,” I responded, pointing to some regrettably expired medicines.
He prescribed more of the same and sent me on the way, $50 poorer (for the appt. and medicines).
And for this he gets paid the big bucks?!?
Later that evening, I attended “Cat’s Corner,” a somewhat exclusive swing venue frequented by the creme de la creme of Lindy Hoppers, and I also participated in the evening’s special Cabaret by playing one of my signature piano medleys. To my surprise and embarrassment, I had the attention not only of my fellow dancers, but also all the folks at the adjacent bar. Whew! I did okay, though, and even smilingly obliged when the quite-enthusiastic Lindy women in the corner shouted their evening trademark: “Take off your shirt!” Luckily (for me and for them and humanity in general) I was wearing an undershirt.
In the meantime over the past few days, I had been instant messaging a warm and intriguing woman that I met on the national Yehoodi swing board. And this evening, I finally met her… sort of.
She was participating in a “Jack and Jill” Lindy contest at Broadway Studios, and damn, is she amazing! I had promised to introduce myself to her, and of course, kept on planning to do so, but my dumb brain excused my procrastination “hmm… can’t ask her to dance right after [amazing so-and-so lead].”
Before I knew it, she left, and I was left kicking myself (and boy, did that hurt!), especially since she’s only here another week ’til she moves back to New York.
And speaking of that… I’ve been noticing that I have this amazing effect on women. I meet them, then they promptly move away. The proof includes:
– my former kickboxing instructor, just a week or two after we went out
– Agnes, whom I originally met in Helsinki and had coffee with here a week ago
– Rithy, whom I met two weeks ago at a friend’s party
– and now Jen, the aforementioned amazing Lindy’er (and actually professional actress as well).
I think I’ll call it my Reverse Midas Touch syndrome.
Back to this evening, though… I must have really been out of it, because for the first time since I started dancing, I forgot to change out of my street shoes and into my dance sneakers. I spent 3 hours dancing in my loafers and (dumbly) wondering why I was having trouble doing spins, and why I overall wasn’t having a very “on” night. Duh! Or, to quote the grand Simpson, D’oh!
Perhaps I was just a bit… okay, more than just a bit disoriented from the performance of “The Nose” that I attended earlier in the evening. Utterly cacaphonous “music” combined with a story line that had me thoroughly baffled. Basic plot summary as far as I could follow: Some guy wakes up and notices he no longer has a nose. He then discovers his very own nose playing hooky in various locations, and isn’t too happy about this. He wants his nose back, but — alas — his nose wants nothing to do with him.
I guess he had a reverse sinus touch. 😀
I just wish I could have figured out whether the opera was supposed to be a comedy, a tragedy, a philosophical drama, or some sort of surreal paean to early Russian plastic surgeons. Perhaps all of the above?
So anyway, here I am on Tuesday night, writing in my as-of-late neglected blog. I have a sore throat, my nose is not missing but it’s stuffily complaining, I don’t feel like sleeping, and thus I’m already early-lamenting my soon-to-be-grumpiness in the morning.
My life is sometimes a bit too crowded and confusing for my taste, but at least it’s never boring.