250- Dinner Out

                          I was lucky enough to attend a wine tasting evening at Capriccio Grill with two of my lovely team members. Our very own Ishani (pictured above) has shown herself to be a force to be reckoned with in the upselling department and was kind enough to share her night with us.





Check out the menu and some pictures after the jump-

251- Bombastic

I'm tired- here's some new vocab for you. 

    "It's a requisite, you know," droned the voice over the counter. 

What the?

"Sorry," I said, twitching my lips into a smiling grimace. "But what's required?"

   The drone stared at me- eyes narrowed. Shit, I thought miserably, She's a sparkling fountain of personality. 

 "You have to present a receipt to return items."

Oh. 

 I nodded emphatically to show her I completely empathized with her, "Yes, I completely understand. But it was a gift and I'm afraid I don't actually have a receipt for it. It still has its tags on -"

"It has to have a recipet."

 I could feel my face falling and she looked back down at the computer monitor- clearly dismissing me as another profligate shop lifter, aiming to cheat the store of its crappy hand lotion and flimsy flip flops. 

I couldn't help but take in her multi toned dyed hair that was cut in a page boy style around a face that was clearly swollen from lack of sleep and over indulgence in some kind of caffeinated beverage.  I tried again, cheer and good will positively dripping off the syllables.

"Of course! Well, is it okay if I switch it out for another size? My little brother apparently thinks that I'm a size 4 and as flattering as that may be, I'm can't actually get into the darn thing."

She looked back up at me, and flicked her eyes to the display rack of the dress in question. It really was an ugly thing- hot pink with yellow trimming and fat Phoenician lettering print splashed across its bias.

"It's store policy to have a receipt," she finally uttered, customer service training clearly at war with her desire to tell me to give up and leave. The demarcations of the counter clearly was rotting her sense of feminine unity. Despite her taste in nail polish (neon green) and her obvious hatred for her job, she might at least do store credit for the same damn thing-

"Oh, well thank you, I appreciate it." She nodded, a twisted mockery of a smile stole across her features before it faded back into the habitual mask of boredom worn by most store employees. I tucked the dress back into the bag, mindful to clearly display the tags. If she was determined to be a stick and cling to apocryphal disillusions that someone would actually steal this ugly ass thing-

"Excuse me, is that a size 4?"

 A blond with large green eyes was standing at the display of the dress in question, holding one loosely in her hand, a rumpled stack next to it a clear indicator that she had been rummaging through the dresses in search of her particular size.

 

"Um, yes," I answered, tucking my bands behind my ear," It is."

"And you're returning it? Because I've been to the three other stores and no one has my size." She half heartedly folded up the dress in hand and placed it carelssely on top of the pile- the drone emitted a low buzz of frustration behind me but I smiled back at the blond.

"Well, since I don't actually have the receipt..."

"But you don't want it right?" She asked, eyes wavering from the yellow bag in my hand to the counter behind me.

"No, I was hoping to return it."

"Oh, would you take $45 for it?" 

You have got to be kidding me- I'd take $15 for it.

"You would buy it from me?" I asked, uncertain I understood. The drone behind me obviously was as incredulous as I was judging from the noises she was making behind me. 

"I would take it off your hands if you just wanted it get rid of it," she said. 

Practicality warred with disbelief for a moment but the pragmatic hegemony of the material world quickly found my tongue for me.

"Sure," I heard myself say," $45 is fine."

The ugly thing cost $60 and I obviously am never going to get a chance to redeem it for it's actual value.

 The drone was hissing something to a fellow drone behind me but I ignored her bombastic little jabs at customer policy and tasteless transactions as I handed over the yellow bag to the now beaming blond who was holding out a fifty in return.

  It really was an arbitrary call, I thought happily. After all, if it wasn't for tyrannical policies, I'd be walking out $45 poorer and with overpriced sunglasses.

And besides, I mused as Blond thanked me and turned to leave,  who keeps receipts?

 

252- That Kid

So, it's Saturday night...

And yes, you know it- I'm not going out because I have to be up before sunrise.

Again.

Oh well, I have my little rebellions- like the gorgeous Rachel Roy dress I bought for no other reason than I freakin wanted it. (And the swim suit cover that was more expensive than the bathing suit I bought. )

Tangent. Sorry. But instead of going out with people on a Saturday night- because my people are at least three to five hours away, I decided to do something drastic.

Study for the GRE.

Oh, yes. I hear you- Studying on a Saturday night??? ---Oh yes, you bet your sweet apple pie bottom I am. I am absoultey sick of being stuck in this position of rejection letters and fear. So, why not try an indirect approach and go back to school and then get internships, networking and not just focus on working to graduate?


Hm. Concept.


And I've been wanting an excuse to work on my vocabulary. So, as I learn- you're going to learn.

253- Turning Tables SYTYCD

So, I fully intended to discuss the entire show of So You Think You Can Dance tonight- I even have notes!

But my DVR kept skipping- and I missed Caitlynn and Mitchell. So, after the full night of notes- I went back and luckily it had recorded separately. (Lesson learned: never press random buttons during a recording)

Oh thank you DVR gods. Thank you because that was easily my favorite of the night--and so far the season.

I was already a fan of Caitlynn but I didn't expect to like Mitchell (Ten Across the Board!) because of his less than contained personality. Due to his injury last week, I didn't get to see him perform so this was a new dancer and one I honestly didn't expect to like.

But the contemporary piece by Stacey Tookey was set to Adele's Turning Tables about a woman who wants to leave her man but can't find the strength to walk away when he faces her.


And some of my favorite routines have sets. This one was particulary....someone had some design training- that much is for sure.

Downstage right is a white arm chair and white lamp. 

Behind it center stage is a dominating black wingback with black lamp. 

Let's just say they didn't have to use costumes to show anything other than their fashion preferences.

The lights followed suit- using a soft blue that set the mood but didn't distract during the partnering during the majority of the piece. However, when both fell were in their chairs, they used solo spotlights to highlight the disconnection.

Highlighting the distance between two people.

But let me stop showing off the Bachelor of Arts and discuss the dancing....

Caitlynn is beautiful. I loved her last week and I still love her. She glows. And she embodies the character with which she is asked to step into. Last week, it was a tough woman hitting hard and this week it was a young woman trying to find her strength. And while it's easy for me to say whether someone is in character or not- I couldn't find a fault in her face much less the beauty in which she carried herself as a dancer. 

At rise, the two are both sitting in their respective chairs and both feeling their own inner turmoil. Passing a hand over her face, she begins to move...

Caitlynn's twists and contortions as she flails in her chair....you could feel her confusion, her determination, her fragileness. And can I just say her feet were perfect.

And he was in complete control of his body- but there was a softness and grace about im that made me feel perahps he's also fighting the end more than fighting her.

But when he comes over the top and grabs her, twists her and pulls her off the chair and into his arms-...And the desperation in which she grabs for him in the moments where she lets go of what she knows and falls back to what she can't let go. ...


Well, you realize why she can't let go. There's something about the ability to let go and just let yourself be taken over by someone that is an addictive quality. He offers her the ability to be vulnerable in his protection but only if she understands the bruises that come with it.

You can see an anger in her as she struggles to break free but even when she pushes him away, she stands there and lets him sweep her away again. She reaches for freedom and she walks away but when faced with his yearning, she is powerless. She sinks down into herself, unable to hurt the man she loves despite knowing instinctively that its wrong.

And my absolute favorite moment : Her tucked underneath his arm, reaching out to the freedom and havig him spin her slowly, tenderly around and throwing her up with him, pulling her back from the edge and back towards the chairs (!).

Back toward him. Back toward them.

You can see her strugffle and her anger with herself. more than him. She knows she's the one to fault- she cant leave despite everything she feels. And her guilt that perhaps she's keeping him prisoner as well is echoed in her twists away from him, only to come face to face to his determined refusal. And refuse to do any more than stare up at him in frustrated beauty.

 I know the choreographer wanted the man to be a more dominating personality, maybe more forceful and cruel but Mitchell quipped "that's not me at all!" and you can see he went against the story in his own way- brought his own take on things.

Maybe this was intentional and maybe he just lacks the power to do what Stacey asked of him but it was so much more powerful to see a man struggle with his own desires- refusing to let go, even though he knows that's what she wants.

They say if you love someone to let them go. Perhaps he is more selfish than he would like to admit- pulling and twisting but always catching her when she falls. The moment when she leaped on to the white armchair and flew into his arms only to be caught in a fetal position was raw power contained, trust and connection radiating from them. 

And when he picks her up and puts her back int the chair...she sinks down as he heads back to his. But in a moment of passion, he dips down- agony and frustration evident in his very aura- knowing he is doing wrong. Knowing he should let go as well but refusing to. and avoiding the emotions that she herself has come to accept.

For now.

Mitchell then slowly crosses his leg, and turns the light off.

Caitlynn is left in a white spotlight, clutching her heart. Apart but not alone.

And as the lights flew up and the audience cheered- you blinked away the moment and realized the spot on Caitlynn's face was where  Mitchell "accidently punched" her, cutting deep enough to bleed---

Well, maybe all that emotion was more of a girl in pain than a girl in the midst of a character

She was literally crying in shock throughout the entire judge panel. And maybe all that trust she showed in him was unwarranted- I mean, it wasn't a scratch, it was a deep bleed. I sympathize with her trying to explain that she doesn't mean to cry on stage- when someone hits you in the face- you cry. Some kind of weird shock sets in and tries to wash it off- don't ask me I don't know but it happens despite your best intentions NOT to cry in front of people.

Sorry- went on a tangent-

But both dancers brought a poise and emotion to the dance which made it go from a simple and predictable number to a quivering, uncertainty. There were other numbers in the show which reduced the audience to tears but this one- this one was the most honest to me.

254- Who Let Them Out?

So, today- the Front Office went on a safari. 

I was going to break it down for you- but pictures will keep you entertained far better-

Check it out after the jump.

255- Round 2

I'm tired of fighting everything in my life. Tired of fighting to get a new job, to fix friendships, to heal my own self worth.

I have no idea what I'm doing anymore but I'm letting go of the fighting.

People always tell me that if it's meant to be, it'll happen. Obviously right now- I need to relax into the flow and just get to some sort of peace with what the world looks like right now.

Or if I can't get to that peace- I'll know I don't have to fight it- I'll just jump off the edge and hope I make it to the bottom.

We get one life- and I'm tired of all the struggles- I'm healthy- that's more than a lot of people have and they make the best of their time  So, yes I have a lot going for me despite the current slump of post graduation.

So, I'm going to work on me.

But I'm worn out from fighting so I'm going to just see what happens when I let life happen.

256- Flaunting My Lack of Musical Taste

1. What are you listening to right now?
Rolling in the Deep- Adele

2. What song makes you sad?
On My Mind- Michael Buble

3. What is the most annoying song in the world?
The Wild Thing- I swear to god they only played that on all the radio stations in Memphis one year and it now literally makes me cringe when I hear it.

4. Your all time favorite band?
The Spice Girls-- I'm being ironic but no really

5. Your newly discovered band is?
The Goo Goo Dolls ( I know I'm late)

6. Best female voice?
Adele

7. Best male voice?
Michael Buble

8. Music type you find yourself listening to most?
Oh god- Pop Vocal

9. What do you listen to, to hype you up?
Dog Days Are Over- Florence and the Machine
Heads will Roll- The Yeah Yeah Yeahs
(Oh god- these both were covered on Glee...)
Animal- Neon Trees
I Can Do Anything- 3Oh!3

10. What do you listen to when you want to calm down?
Still- Matt Nathanson


12. Band you find yourself listening to the most right now?
Maroon 5

13. Most hated band?
The Dave Matthew Band- High School Marching Band had an unhealthy obsession with it.

14. Song that makes you think?
What Hurts The Most- Rascal Flatts


15. Band that you think the world should love as much as you do?

Matt Nathanson- come on people- singer songwriter talent isn't often- and he's funny!

16. Coolest music video?
Further cementing my lack of musical distinction- Thriller- Michael Jackson (Don't deny it)

17. Can you play a musical instrument?
Hahaha god no.

19. Ever dated a musician?
Yea- I don't recommend it.

20. Do you wish yourself that you were a musician?
Nah- I'll just enjoy it.

21. Last song that you heard on the radio/cd...etc...?
Worrisome Heart- Melody Gardot

22. What do you think of Classical music?
Beautiful. However, I am guilty of getting bored with it if I'm just stuck listening to it. But give me a book and some candles- let's go.

23. What do you think of Country music?
It's growing on me...

24. What do you think of Death Metal?
No- absolutely not- go away

25. Do you listen to music in foreign languages?
Honestly? No.

26. Best local act you can think of?
Um- only one I know of is The Heavy Eyes

27. If you were a musical instrument what would you be?
Drums- slow and steady and then - bam it just goes. 



28. Do you listen to the radio?
Depends on whether or not I've update my iphone lately

29. Do you watch music TV?
Do we still have Music Tv?

30. Do you follow the music charts, like the top 40
No- but I tend to uses it to learn new bands

31. Have you meet any famous musicians?
Matt Nathanson, Cyndi Lauper, The Lead Singer from Train

32. Are any of your friends/family/etc. musicians?
Rachael, Matt, and Tad might call themselves musicians. I call them band nerds. 

33. Song that best describes your feelings right now?!!!!
How- Maroon 5

34. Song that describes your life?

Tangled Up in Me- Skye Sweetnam

35. Do you know the names of all the band members that you listen to?
No- sorry guys.

36. Does a musicians physical attractiveness play a role in the music that you listen to?
I'm half in love with Matt Nathanson and Michael Buble and trust me when I tell you that they're not the best looking guys in the music industry right now.

37. What famous musician do you want to marry?
I'll take Michael Buble please.

38. Favorite movie sound track?
The Wedding Date

39. What do your parents listen to?
They put the radio on mostly classic rock stations- I got my lack of musical knowledge from them. 

40. Do you wear band etc T-shirts?
No- but I would wear one if it was ironic enough. 

41. What do you think of people who do?
They wasted 40 dollars?

42. What music sub-culture do you feel like you belong to?
Top 100- sad but true

43. What song is stuck in your head right now?
Show Me What I'm Looking For- Carolina Liar

44. Do you sing in the shower?
I hum.

45. If so, what? If not, why not?
No one wants to hear my voice- including me.

46. Would you rather marry a musician or be one yourself?
Be one- musician's are like actors- too damn touchy

47. How important is your partners taste in music to you?
I don't mind- but I would not like a guy listening to Show tunes or hard death metal...I guess it reflects their overall personality

48. Hanson moves in next door to you, do you go introduce yourself, or do you arrange to beat them?
I'd walk over and tell them I hated them growing up- but I now appreciate the joy of saying Mmm Bop.

49. Do you cook to music?
Yes!

50. Do you sing on the toilet?
....what the hell?

257- Falling

  Batting ineffectively at the buzzing emanating from somewhere to her left, Holly woke up Tuesday morning to a gray morning and an alarm that refused to die. 

    With a small whine of protest, Holly sat up to better reach the zombie machine. The cool air of November bit through her tank top and caused an involuntary shiver. Leaning out of the bed further, her fingertips brushed the snooze button but were unable to get to the root of the problem: the power button. 

Tugging her lip between her teeth, Holly had a brief internal struggle between actually making sure the damn thing stayed off or just giving up and letting it go back off again in ten minutes. Oh screw it, she thought, mouth opening in a cavernous yawn- the geometry class was not going to happen this morning. Better to face the multi headed hydra that was the snooze alarm before she threw the clock across the room. 

 She arched her back to better reach across the span of air that separated the bed from the nightstand. She had thought it a good idea at the time- forcing herself to get out of bed to turn the clock off--the idea was she would go ahead and start her morning routine. Not get up, smack it silent, and get back into bed.

But really- geometry at 10 a.m. was one of the more unintelligent decisions she had made that year.

Her fingertips brushed past the snooze, stretching out for the elusive power button. She pushed herself a little further off the side of the bed, keeping her legs ensconced firmly beneath the warmth of the comforter. Tired blurred her vision and the neon lights mocked her with their blinking warning of impending annoyance. A strand of her hair fell into her vision and she shook her head slightly to clear the sleep fuzzing her edges

.

It was probably not the smartest idea to be balancing your entire weight on your diaphragm and then upset the balance by shaking the appendage that was the furthest out of synch with the rest of your less than coordinated body. 

She felt herself start to slip out of the bed, arms flailing, she emitted a slight yelp of panic- expecting to hit the frozen floor (why hadn’t she gone and got a rug yet??) when a strong force wrapped itself around her core and pulled her back from certain descent. 

 “Isn’t it a little early for bodily injury?” asked the deep voice, low and half awake. The speaker pulled Holly into the crook of his body, the heat from his chest quickly dispelling the chills of the morning air. She pressed herself closer, grasping the arm wrapped around her like a lifeline. 

“Probably,” she agreed as she buried her head back down into the pillow. She felt the warmth began to ease her back into sleep, the worry lines around her mouth began to relax into a smile when she felt him squeeze her. 

“You have to go to class,” Chris murmured, eyes still closed. Holly shook her head, squeaked a denial and tried to burrow herself further into his embrace. 

He squeezed again.

“Holly,” he warned amusement and disbelief clear indicators that he was more awake than she would like him to be.

“Not today,” she demurred, twisting around in his embrace she found herself looking into the storm grey eyes, riddled with sleep on the edges.

“You never go to that class,” he said. She twisted her lips at him.

“And miss this?” she asked. “Never.”

He grunted in agreement and his eyes slid close again. For a second, she studied the familiar face- the crest of his brow, the line of his nose and the place it had been broken when he was younger, the scar on the side of his eye and the thin set of his lips, cracked from his usual morning run in the chill of the fall.

“Stop watching me sleep, Holl,” he said. Her face flushed slightly but she batted his chest lightly.

“Stop being a mind reader and go back to sleep,” she ordered. She went to sit up, planning to at least go brush her teeth and get the night’s taste out and grab a drink of water when she felt his grip snake back around her waist and pull her back down.

She stilled, allowing the silence in the room only to be broken by their breathing and the occasional rustle of the sheet. The idea of sleep was tempting- it would be easy enough to close her eyes and drift in and out of consciousness until she fell back to sleep but her mind was awake and her heart was in her throat.

How many mornings like this had they shared- she didn’t know. She had taken them for granted- always caught by surprise that something as simple as falling asleep next to someone was such a powerful thing. Saying goodnight sometimes in words and sometimes in silent touch was only rivaled by waking up in the morning and seeing them at peace (the being woken up by someone turning on the sports channel after a late night of studying wasn’t worth mentioning).

But the ability to reach over in the night and touch him, to see his eyes crack open in recognition and to be able to curl into his essence- that was a surprisingly intimacy that had nothing to do with sexual longing. It was mornings like these when she could only stare up into his sleeping face and wonder at the simplicity of the moment and the complexity of the feelings it invoked.

And then-

“Chris, did you just fart?” she moaned, incredulity coloring her tone. A warm chuckle was the only reply. 

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“Says the girl who never goes to the one class she’s failing,” was the only reply.

Well, what was a girl supposed to do when faced with a dreary November day, a math class and a man in her bed?

Holly entwined her legs between his, his grumble ignored as she pressed closer to him.

“Shut up, Chris,” she said.

And he did.

258- Share the Joy

"It's Sad when Politicians are a Joke & Comedians are Taken Seriously"
-John Stewart goes on Fox News to discuss whether his role in media and politics. Not only is he a funny guy, he's articulate and highly aware of who he is and where he comes from. Watch it Here- and look for some of the best moments regarding Stewart's views on 24 hours news programs- having to work in a hotel where that's all they play in the break room and in the gym- I agree with him 100%. And I can respect a man who is honest that he is a comedian first but does have an ideological agenda that informs his comedy. He does not pretend to be anyone but himself and knows he's exactly where he belongs on a comedy channel. I'll take more of This and less MSNBC, FOX, and CNN- well not less Anderson Cooper- (see I can be honest too.)




In other news- So You Think You Can Dance kicked off its Season 8 this week with twenty new talented dancers.

Now, I don't have any favorites as of the first week- which I'm a little disappointed about but I guess I'll give them another week or so to wow me. Now, I am a huge fan of Travis Wall- a contestant from Season 2 who has returned as one of the most beautiful choreographers on the show. He gave us two beautiful contemporary pieces last night and I just get to choose One to show you because two just isn't fair.I chose this one because I do like Sasha and the ending is pure power.  But if you go to check out the page- you should look at Melanie and Marko's routine. I think it just might not have hit me as strongly as strongly as it did the studio audience but the beauty of it it is unarguable.  And then I'm going to push Sonya's piece- Sonya is a crazy freak of a choreographer and I love her for it. Add one of the more delicious dancers from Season 7 filling in for the injured male partner of Caitlynn- as well as some kick ass music and freaky bangs and you're going to get some kind of Show. My favorite has to be the walk down the stage and the lift and spins- but just watch her face- she's killing it.


 And just because I like the number three, I am also going to post Matt Nathanson (pre funky beard which I haven't decided if I like or not) singing Princess- before throwing in Jesse's Girl. It's not only that he's extremely talented live performer- he's funny. Check him out because you'll be hearing more about him from me very soon.

259- Where I Stand

Time is one thing, permission another.

 You looked right into me and told me the truth.

You could have lied or avoided the questions, you could have joked back or kissed me and never let go.

But you couldn't help but want to see what lay down a different road,

I was hurt because my road had always been you.

You said to give you time to figure things out but you meant to give you time to try different things out.

I wasn't enough for you.

You passed on mornings under the comforter, teaching each other, cooking dinners to eat during a movie, jokes about my taste in music, board games, piles of books, bubble baths, roses, watching the games and afternoon naps.

You must be able to do without the sight of my smile and the sound of my laugh, the smell of my shampoo, the taste of my kiss and the feel of my touch.

  Forget long phone calls and goodbye kisses.

No more you.

Not for me.

Wise enough to know I can do without you but not strong enough not to miss everything we were.

But you chose someone else.

You didn't want time- you wanted permission to figure out if I was enough for you.

That alone means I'm not.

That alone means I couldn't stay.

And the only way I could leave was by remembering that you just don't love me anymore.

So, I had to forgo any comfort you were offering at goodbye.

Because you couldn't even kiss me one last time.

But -

I wish you happiness.

I wish you love.

I wish you a Cubs Pennant.

260- Musing

     As my little brother recalled stories of his travels in Greece, I found myself helping him out with the background of many of the sites he visited- drawing on the Greek mythology and tragedies that I've read and reread over these past couple of years.

  And for some reason, Penelope popped in my head.


   You know Penelope- Odysseus's faithful wife- who spun a burial mantle for him by day and undid it by night- putting off the hundreds of suitors that filled her hall attempting to win her heart- and by default- Odysseus's kingdom.

     I remember reading the Odyssey- I know the story by heart- at least I thought I did.

But now, I can't remember Penelope's story as clearly as her husband's. Sure, he angered Poseidon by blinding his Cyclopes son and condemned himself to years of wandering the seas trying to return home. Yes, he had the Grey Eyed goddess on his side who helped him achieve his heart's desire....


But for a man who only desired to be home- what does his interludes with women signify?

  Washed up on her island shore, Calypso intends to keep Odysseus as her immortal husband and does so for years. The two become lovers until Odyesseus finally begs his patron goddess Athena to ask Zeus for Calaypso to free him so he can return to his wife.

 Parting with a boat, food, and wine, he looks back only to remark that she is far lovelier than his wife.

(Jerk.)

 Okay, I know Greeks weren't overly into the whole female persepective but Homer goes through all the trouble to indentify Penelope as one of the most faithful women in history. Her husband is known as one of the most determined men but what was he eager to return home to? His wife? Or his Kingdom? His peace?


It can of course be argued that Odysseus never loved Calypso but went along with her love in the hopes of escape.  Which is exactly what he did with Circe- trading his love and devotion in return for her to transform his men back into men.

All while Penelope hosts a hundred men who abuse the famed Greek hospitality and demand her to chose a new lord. Putting them off with her sewing tricks, Penelope never can outright refuse their demands. History tells us that  Greek women had little to no power.

But in the midst of all those men, was she ever tempted?

 To step out of her faithful role of wife, take a lover and use him instead of letting him use her? After all, her husband did exactly that in his travels. And how did Penelope feel about her husband's years spent on islands- living with other women- sharing their beds?

  Like I said, I don't remember nearly as much as the Odyssey as I would like. But I can imagine her weeping herself to sleep every night- knowing her husband is in a pointless war, doomed to a certain death and only to find he survived but unable to return home.

It would drive anyone over the edge.

But she waited. She schemed and she hoped and she put her trust in the man she loved to return to her.

How much of that is loyalty and how much of that is blind devotion?

 I ask because I can't imagine where her pride was in the ten years of his absence. It's easy to understand why she was not seduced by the obvious gold diggers clogging her halls but would she have understood her husband sharing an island for 7 of the 10 years he was gone with another woman?

Or is the simple fact that he returned to her enough?

That's what I pondered as the rest of the conversation continued around me. To experience the sheer joy of his return- and the tredipation that it could all be a trick of the Gods- is highly understandable. But did she never ask? Did he never tell her?

"Oh by the way, I lived with a nymph for seven years. She's prettier than you but can't cook to save her life"

You can see why Homer failed to touch the subject.

With ancient Penelope, we have a standard of patience and virtue. Her complete dedication to her husband despite the odds and her own emotional battles are meant to inspire wives to stay with their husbands, support them and love them no matter the trails they face.

I can't help but think it rather insipid.

But I'm in a completely different age and era- women have voices, chances to change their lives- they do not need to rely on men or husbands but can strike out and make their own destiny. However, many of us still do exactly that.

 Today, we stay with men even if they cheat or make us feel doubt ourselves and we call it Love.We claim we would never stand for such treatment to our girl friends one day and then cry about his transgressions the next.

So, my question is: Are we modern day Penelopes?

Not all of us of course- but some give the men in their lives time to  "figure things out" even if it takes them away from the relationship. As long as they return home- back to their Penelopes.

    It is an occurring fact that wives look the other way, expecting the men to snap to their senses and return home. But the modern day Odysseus continues to explore- always aware he can simply return home where a faithful woman awaits his return so eager to see him that she ignores where he's been.


     Now, I can't help but mention a modern day Penelope- Penny from Lost.

 The difference here is that while Penny refuses to wait for her Odysseus (Desmond) to get his act together. While he loves her, he is unable to commit and Penny walks away.

 During this time period, Penny determinedly strives to get over Desmond- even getting engaged to someone else in his absence.  Yet, she still cares deeply for the man who got away- enough to go back and ask him why. Sensing her hope for a future together, Desmond attempts to win her back by winning a yachting competition (!) only to get shipwrecked on the island and unable to escape. Now, I'm not going to try to explain Lost to you - but let's just say at no point on the island is Desmond ever with another woman. He does nothing but attempt to get off the island and return to Penny.

There's the difference.

     Penelope waited for her loving( and cheating) husband but never went searching for him. Penny actively used her resources to find a man she instinctively knew loved her.

Now, I'm not blaming Odysseus- Greek men weren't really raised to be faithful. It was not a part of the culture and I should not attempt to judge or criticize his actions using my modern day culture.

But I can sympathize with Penelope's heartbreak even while I empathize with her eventual heartbreak if she knew the extent of her husband's travels. She probably would have still waited.

Would we modern Penelopes do the same?

261- Another 100 Words

    A tightening in my chest is the only warning I get before I realize:  I've forgotten again.

     I gasp air in, desperately. Then, shallow breaths as my lungs protest the abuse- an occurrence that is becoming habit.

      Tilting my head back, I regard the ceiling panels- ancient and yellowed. It’s been happening with increasing frequency- a memory grabs me, refuses to let go.

       I turn my gaze back to the computer; forcing myself back to work- reminding myself that he’s someone else’s now. I shut my brain off- try not to think about it.
 
                                                 But I keep forgetting to breath.

262- TEAM

 One of my agents looked at me today and announced, "You look well rested today."

Um. Thanks?

   Upon my obvious confusion, she hastily clarified by explaining that while I've been doing a great job- everyone's noticed that I haven't been myself lately. 

 If you've ever had the pleasure of having a conversation with me- no matter how brief- you would know what she means. You see, I'm one of those people whose inner thoughts are printed right on their face- at all times. It's not that I'm a lousy liar- I just can't help but broadcast whatever I'm feeling even in situations where it is not at all appropriate- like work.
    
     So- If I'm stressed- my staff knows it. Not good and something I'm trying to work on. But sometimes it's just my thinking face or my "816 needs luggage, 816 needs luggage- shit what was the room number again?" face. So, it's not uncommon for my guys to turn the corner, take one look at me, and say "Are you okay?"

  They haven't done that lately. I thought it was because I was getting better at keeping my game face on.

 Not so much.

    I adore my coworkers- they are thoughtful and highly observant people who are always thinking of the team as opposed to themselves. I can't tell you how grateful I am for a boss who understands me and who I can joke with in one second and then deal with a severe "doomsday" situation in the very next. I very possible have the world's best boss. And my team is motivated, dedicated, and hardworking. And sarcastic. I love that about them.

       But as the day wore on, my coworker approached me again to make sure I understood what she had meant earlier.  She wanted to make sure I hadn't taken it the wrong way because it wasn't that I looked rough- but I would very obviously be somewhere else sometimes- going over something in my head and they all could see it as clearly as if I was talking about it outloud.

      So, there was an unspoken rule about getting things done with only minor supervisor assistance, asking if I needed help or something to drink, and even the occasional bar of chocolate at my desk after lunch. No one asked, no one pried- but they paid attention. They noticed when I stopped talking about my best friend and didn't mention anything when they realized my phone had disappeared from its usual perch next to my computer screen. (ah- words with friends- you got me everytime)

 And I've always told them thank you but I just didn't realize until today how much they care about whether or not I'm doing okay. It's not exactly a friendship but it's a team. And as one of the leaders of that team, I was trying to keep my own issues out of the building. I failed obviously but I did try.

 But they looked the other way, waited for me to get the turmoil under control, and politely declined to point out the days where I didn't get to wash my hair because of another fitful night of tossing and turning.

 I am grateful for my team. And as much as I tell them, I don't think I'll say it enough.

263- Piquant

Yea- I'm way too exhausted to be creative or tell you anything of interest-

Here's some art.














Choreography: Nappytabs
Dancers:
Mark Kanemura
Chelsie Hightower

264- Simple - (100 Words)

I still wake up, roll over and reach for my phone.

And then I remember I'm not the one you call anymore.

I don’t think of you.
But you still come to me.

At least you took away the hope.
It doesn’t hurt as much
                                         living in despair.

How stupid could I be.
Begging you to stay with me.

You walked away with everything.
Leaving me with memories.
This shameful transparency.
You saw and passed on all of me.

You go on
(Not this strong.)


Learning life without you.

Broken but fixable.
It just won’t be the same shape.  



Simulacrum.

265-Not a Change in Heart but a Change in Me

     What is one thing that never fails to make me smile?

       Well, yes- someone slipping on ice but no really-

 Beauty and the Beast came to Memphis last night and since I already had broken my Give a Damn- I went ahead and bought two tickets and informed my mother she was going with me.

     Now, my mother is a bit of a smart ass who didn't hesitate to inform me that when she first took me to see the Disney animated classic- I literally lost it when the Beast appeared for the first time.

 Screamed.

   And Screamed.

                           And just for good measure- kept screaming until she had to take me out of the theater.

   Apparently, I stopped when I realized I was about to be separated from the popcorn.

   Well, I don't remember it. But I can see it. Hell, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Arc climatic scene made me leap ten feet into the air and Ernest Scared Stupid isn't even up for discussion. But I don't remember being scarred by Beauty and the Beast.

    And as I watched all the little girls swarm around in Belle dresses, I may have been a brat and turned to my mother to regret my neglected childhood because I know I didn't get a Barbie jeep and I definitely didn't have a Belle dress. Sure I had the pink power ranger costume but still.

          She assures me that I did but I didn't want anything to do with bows, heels, or anything resembling a dress. I shudder to think of myself as a child- so we're going to go ahead and just end it before it gets much further. But as a brunette little girl who always, always, always had my nose in a book- I always got to play Belle at recess. 

 Now, I wouldn't go as far as the woman who put her daughter in a white sundress and then poured herself into what once must have been her prom dress but should be donated to a I <3 the 80's Museum for it's "What Were We Thinking..." section.

   So, after eating at Felicia Suzanne's, we headed over to the Orpheum Theatre for Opening Night. I was actually pretty excited about nabbing tickets because it was most definitely a sold out show- Karma Score 1.

 As we waited for the show to begin, I got to sit and talk with a bunch of little Beautys all dressed in yellow gowns of tulle and lace. My favorite was a little Beauty named Shawna who had mocha skin with big brown eyes and curly afro with a tiara stuck in it. She pulled on my dress as I waited in line for a drink and asked me if I was Belle "cause you look like a princess".

     But enough of me almost putting a child in my pocket and taking her home with me- as soon as I saw the stage- I was instantly at ease. I settled in- let the music swell and just went with it.

  Sure, I'm a bit of a Disney snob and maybe I was less than thrilled when I realized the costumer had taken the basic idea of the film but spun it in her own way....Okay, I get it- I even respect it- but come on- Belle has a long dress- not one that swirls around her knees when she spins....

I mean I want it but comeon.

   There was also the very distinct sex appeal being addressed. It's to be expected to see the Feather Duster's legs in all her glory but I didn't need to see straight up the tutu that passed as a skirt. Indeed, all the women were very attractive musical theater ingenues and the director and costumer put it to use. Be Our Guest had the ladies in basic full frontal cloth that showed a utensil but the back- the back revealed a bra top and a burlesque underwear with garter strap. Hardly necessary for a child's production.

I mean, I wanted it too. but comeon.


 And the Beast- well let's just say I wasn't impressed. He was little. And kept playing for laughs. I want my Beast tortured, misunderstood, and funny because he can't help but be himself. That's not asking for a lot, is it?

I chose to get my comedy from the wonderfully vapid Silly Girl Trio, a very physically comedic Le Fou, and of course Cogsworth and Lumiere. And I always liked the Feather Duster and Wardrobe so- more stage time for the ladies!

  I do have to confess that I didn't love the breaks from the movie....sure I understand why we can't have a giant battle in the foyer of the Mansion between the mob and the enchanted servants but damnit that's my favorite part.

Well, other than the library scene.

           When I was young, that's what love looked like to me. Keep your moonlit boating excursions and your magic carpet ride, Love was sitting in front of a fire place reading a book together and looking away from the story to steal glances at the person sharing the story with you. And snowball fights.

I'd take the Magic Carpet ride and Moonlight Boat too but that's still right up there. Sure curling up on the couch with a movie in one hand and a arm around you is wonderful, but try listening to a story being read out loud by a beloved voice. I promise you there's magic in the world- its found in the imagination and every once in a while, it escapes from the covers of a book and into your heart.

 So, yes, as Beast finds that he can indeed love- (despite the fact that they ruined the ballgown- it is not supposed to be a yellow frilly monstrosity- it is supposed to be a vision of golden splendor-what is wrong with these people??) and Belle goes to save her father- and Chip is a creepy little kid who gets carted around the entire time with a cup on his head and Gaston mugs for the audience and then its happy ending time. Where this twenty three year old reverted back to the eight year old who would die before admitting she wanted a fairy tale ending.

 And did I mention the Gaston scene was actually pretty good fun? I mean the clinking cups was a bit extreme but it wasn't as bad as the random Russian dance scene done by a Welcome Rug (I know- a pink Welcome rug- I almost died) during Be Our Guest.

 The light and sound guys were on their game. Between roars, knocks, echoes, and snarls, the sound was the only way the Beast actually got any real power onstage- well how much power can one get when wearing a truly bad wig with horns attached... but still. And the lights used candlelight, red rose illumination, and other beautiful ways to keep your attention off those ugly gargoyle costumes the guys had to wear to move the set and on the real point- the story.

...

    And while we're on that- the Set. I personally hate flying things in and out- except scrims- Scrims should be used as much as humanly possible- and believe me they were- otherwise there would be no way I wouldn't have broke out laughing at the wolf scene (dance my puppets- dance!) but I could have done without the library book motif.

   The roll on set included intricate metal stairways that were moved about to convey movement through the mansion as well as house fronts that also had interior so they could be swiveled- flipped- spun- okay I'm out of adjectives but it was fun and kept you in the moment as well as allowing the actors a chance to use their Hodgins (plant yourself through furniture!)

    Overall, I had to say it was fun. But I still wanted to go home and watch the movie - exhaustion of course won that battle- but I'm just saying. I guess I'm a creature of comfort and as much as I enjoyed the immensely talented cast and their version of the beloved classic-- I knew what I really wanted and it wasn't going to be found in the theatre that Tuesday night.

  I wanted the great wide somewhere and the dream that even you don't fit in right now, right here- there's a home waiting for you. You just have to realize it when you get there.

And my Beast to be huge monster with giant fangs and the inability to use spoons.

What- just me?

266- Walk About

Okay, so maybe it's 99 degrees outside in Memphis. Which roughly translates to the temperature on the surface of the sun in December. (I know, just go with it. And yea, I decided that since it was Pay What You Can at Dixon Galley and Gardens- that would be a pretty decent way of spending the day. As opposed to the private pool outside...You can't account for some people's tastes.

    And pretty much the only thing they had was a creepy bunch of paintings but a local artists which heavily featured Pinocchio being tortured and touring other things...and John Rogers collection of work.

  I absolutely loved his collection- based around plays, stories, and the civil war- Rogers showed a bit of Americana in its best even when it was at its worse. My favorite is this piece-> where the young woman is studying her lines while her companion applies some stage make up for their private theatrical performance.  The detail is beautiful- from the cat skin rug on the floor looking up in amusement, the props on the table to the flowers etched on the lady's skirts. I highly recommend you take a look at his work- think Norman Rockwell in statues. Without soda fountains.

Well, then it was off to the Gardens where I roamed the labyrinth and bemoaned my forgotten ear piece so I couldn't listen to music. I suppose that would have taken away from the overall beauty of the gardens in June but I had to amuse myself by quoting Shakespeare at myself.