Mace v.1.3.10

My, what a busy weekend I had. So busy, in fact, that I didn’t even get to write about it until Wednesday. Whoot!

Friday, I drove over to Santa Cruz to see Noche Flamenca at the Rio Theater. I was very worried about getting over there in time, since the night before it had hailed on 17 and SNOWED on 9. As it was still raining in good ol’ San Jo, I was convinced it was going to take forever to get over the hill, so I left nice and early. Well, once I got into the mountains, the sky cleared, the sun started shining, and traffic moved at quite the reasonable pace. Art said that it hadn’t rained at all that day! We had dinner at the Crepe place across from the Rio (which I highly recommend – the food there is hugemungous). Upon returning to my car, I found a nice flat tire*. With only ten minutes until the show started. Art, who will be forever known now as Art my Hero, took it upon himself to replace my tire in a poorly-lit, damp parking lot while I ran off and enjoyed myself at the show**. I called him at intermission and confirmed that everything had gone smoothly. Thank goodness Art lived so close! Three cheers for Art! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, HOORAY!

Saturday, I attempted a Flamenco singing workshop. Now, I’ve had NO voice training, in Flamenco or any other genre. I had an advantage over the other people in the workshop that I was more familiar with the general tune of the two songs we learned (an Alegrias and a Tientos). But it was really cool to see written down what I couldn’t parse out from hearing professionals sing. No, you can’t hear me sing. Wait until I am drunk.

Directly after the workshop, I bopped over to the Red Cross for some bloodletting. Because I am nice. And because it’s giving back to the community that takes neither money nor dealing with people face-to-face. I have no problem with blood, but I don’t really enjoy watching needles enter my arm. When the nice lady finished with the entry, I turned back to compliment her (I barely felt it at all) when I noticed that there was something on my jacket, which was over me because it was about twelve degrees at the Red Cross. It was me! Evidently when she put in the needle, I squirted. She said it’s a pretty common occurrence, but I’d never seen it before. I’m so glad I was wearing my raincoat, and may start bringing it every time I give blood. Luckily everything else went smoothly. But really, squirting. Ew.

Back home, Jesse and I decide to have people over to watch Mirrormask. The movie was good, but the temperature of the house was very distracting. We even had the heater on, but I was still snuggled under a blanket with a sweater and my mother. No one took off their jacket. So I received the answer to my oft-asked question: “Why doesn’t anyone ever hang out at our house anymore?” Then I was whisked off to dinner with my mother. Following that, I completely crashed and fell asleep before eleven. On a Saturday night. Because I am hardcore.

Also, my sister Willow is five! Which is crazy, because she was just born, like, yesterday. And now I’ve exhausted myself, so I’ll excuse myself. Think about the song “Abracadabra” by the Steve Miler band. I’ve been.

* Not that the flat tire was unexpected. On the way up to Fremont Elder, Jeremy, Kristen Jesse and I all noticed that my front right tire was making a strange noise at low speeds. Jeremy checked it out and I had three, THREE, nails in the tire. Yet it was holding air, and managed to do so for almost a week. Oops.

** “Enjoy myself” is not entirely true. I spent the entire first half worrying about Art! Plus the first half wasn’t as good as the second. In fact, I’d dare say Soledad Barrio alone was worth the ticket price, though I was also really impressed with the Martinete. Why is it that touring Flamenco groups don’t understand that less is more? I’d rather see a bunch of great, short pieces than sit through four, long, exhaustive dances. But the singing, oh, the singing. So wonderful.

Okay, I totally take back my complaint about Jesse.

I got home yesterday, and there was the backpack I’d been wanting, a rose, and two pounds of nuts and chews, the best See’s has to offer.

Best. Valentine’s. Ever.

Happy Valentine’s Day, peeps.

Of course, all this does is remind me that I asked Jesse to buy me flowers seven months ago, and still haven’t received them. Not that I want them today, because that’s kind of cheesy. Sigh.

I forgot to mention that I chopped off all my hair. Except for my hash browns.

Pictures forthcoming.

Out first meeting of the book club was very successful! I’m extremely happy with the way it turned out, not to mention the yummy bits left at my house for me to eat for the next two days. We read The Chocolate War, and the discussion was interesting and never stopped flowing. We barely even got off topic. And it didn’t turn into a bunch of “high school sucked really bad” stories, which I feared*. I’m really looking forward to out next meeting, where we’re reading Frankenstein. Of course, now I have to follow my “first attempt” pie with a “much better and possibly themed” pie. Did I mention my pie turned out great? And that because of the pies, we’ve renamed the book club Pie Club? (The first rule of Pie Club is that this joke is really tired.)

I’ve started hiking! I decided to climb Half Dome for my birthday. So that means I’ve started training now, as I have a LOOOOOONG way to go. I’ve been hiking with some super-walkers, so I’m usually behind. But this is a competition with myself, not with others. It took a while for me to realize that. Even if I’m half a mile behind, I’m still going to make it. And Jesse usually hangs a little behind to keep an eye on me, to make sure I haven’t fallen off a cliff or been eaten by a mountain lion. I can’t wait until the hikes I’ve already done get easy. What a day!

San Jose is finally starting to produce events that I want to go to. For years, I’ve thought that either

a)      San Jose has nothing interesting going ever or

b)      Something’s going on Underground and I’m not in on it

This last Friday was the very first South First Friday, wherein five different galleries on South First Street stay open late, complete with music and booze. I ended up going by myself, but was happy to see the large turnout. Even at the Museum of Quilting and Textiles. (?!**) I’m suddenly all into supporting my local art scene!

* At the last Girl Movie Night, we watched a documentary about female wrestlers of the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s, and instead of it being uplifting and pioneering, it was very depressing. These women were abused, scammed, and otherwise treated very poorly. Our discussion of the movie, and our talks about being a tomboy as a girl were fraught with “my parents made me do this or that” and “I remember being told I couldn’t do [insert fun or intelligent] thing because I was a girl.” Irina actually emailed me and thanked me for being a rare happy contributor about how great my childhood role models were (my mom, my girl scout leaders, good teachers). I don’t mean to complain – it was very interesting and probably cathartic. But it was also kind of a bummer. I do appreciate that the group feels safe enough that we can discuss deep issues without fear, though.

** This is meant to be an interrobang.