My job was keep quiet so I watched the Ferris wheel operator do his job. He looked like Gregg Allman. He had a beard and kind, world-weary eyes. He was tanned and blonde and he never cared if we had bracelets or not. He counted extra turns when we were on the wheel and he never made us get off until someone stopped smiling. He wore dirty jeans and a ripped white shirt and he had tattoos from some other life before the one in which you live in a broken-down camper, towed from one small town to the next.
One late night he asked me what I was staring at. I told him the lights were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He walked over to the canopy where the rainbow lights were and he reached up and unscrewed a round red bulb and he brought it over to me and told me I could keep it so I would always remember the fun I had that night. He became a fixture after that, and every year he gave me a different colored bulb that I would collect near the end of my evening. I brought them home and kept them in a cardboard box pushed far underneath the big iron bed with the mattress that sagged in the middle.
-- Saltwater Princess, http://saltwaterprincess.blogspot.com/
i only wish i could write like that-- entries like these keep me going back for more, never mind the ramshackle cascade of pieces of the author's life that never seems to end. in any case even if it's the same old same old it's well-written same old same old, and muffin (you know who you are!) gave me a very timely reminder today that i need to have more patience and not be excessively dismissive of things i think i've seen and heard before. it's been a while, and i've forgotten how much i swore to myself i'd never assume or think lightly of matters without first giving them due weight. never say never, huh. the memory of choosing not to fight
just spent a few moments eyeing a rather large orange spider crawling across my living room floor-- i think it wandered in from the great outdoors mistakenly. go, you, this is not your realm. honestly how do spiders handle (leg-dle...?) eight legs? it's all i can do to keep track of my four limbs. placid as this spider seemed, when i started to nudge it gently towards the door with a newspaper, it LEAPT and scuttled across the floor at an alarming rate. rather disarmingly it was large enough that you could actually hear the click of its legs against the marble as it ran. eeek. eventually it got the idea and clung on to the paper so i could take it outside and release it. i don't kill spiders. they're not my favourite creatures in the world but i go out of my way not to harm them.
now please swipe from your minds the rather silly mental image of some ditz wielding a newspaper scuttling around after a spider. eurgh.
another week draws to a close-- one that's passed more or less in a blur. i enjoyed this week's classes tremendously-- from trinity's "lack-of-vertebrae" reggae to kate's finally-continued choreo (far more enjoyable taught the second time-- i suspect because there were less people in the studio, although i still kept accidentally whacking or stepping on soozey. sorry soozey! :(:( ) to replacement class by alex, for which he taught elliot yamin's don't be afraid and for which about 6 people went zzz. i was happy to recap the choreo, but--! his words: "(the normal choreo) said i could push you guys a bit, so if anything blame her not me". right. he wound up teaching something like 2 eights of a choreo that was at least four times as long, if my memory of saturday's open house serves me correctly. in any case i don't think i'm going to continue this class after the current cycle ends-- i took it up for auld lang syne, but i can't quite feel anything for the choreography even at the best of times. shall save the money for danz people hopefully :)
p.s. although i am not a fangirl i think alex is a wonderfully patient teacher and a very very nice person. and i like the house-ness he incorporates in his choreos (admittedly i've only learnt like 2 of them and seen 3, but still). his smile reminds me of another teacher's, except that other smile was closed and had-- more things hidden.
dance subaru-ed on tuesday with yuko ruisi fred and a non-existent michelle rose who NEVER did show from darkest peru where she was deported haha. movie wasn't that great, although i did like the final dance-- i really think it was the meshing of a brilliant piano quintet with movement and expression that did the trick. there was no storyline behind the dance but the emotion came through anyway. and fred was right the hip hop showdown was bad, although zzz i didn't think too much of the bolero or *cringe* neko dance either.
later that day we crowed over purchases like blue flowers and compact powders and ruisi's red red heart which she inadvertently left on the bus for some lucky casanova. again my high surface-pain threshold kicked in and i didn't notice the terrible blisters i got from my stupid wedges until i got home that night. that's what comes of chasing pipe dreams of yesteryear down avenues and roads and all the highways and byways of open hearts-- blisters and pain. and we were all vulnerable once, but that's the thing about blisters-- their natural successors are calluses and then the world cannot hurt you as readily. and you grow that much stronger for it-- or that much more of a once-bitten-twice-shy wuss, however you want to see it.
hope yuko likes her funkay green heels :)
calluses are no proof against heartstrings though and a half-expressed wish was granted fruition on thursday with jia ni amidst (more! argh) sushi and vanilla sponges and strawberry dreams and sparkles and stardust. i don't trust easily, but those i do trust are unfortunately burdened with all the weight of my heart and soul. gosh i make it sound tremendous eh.
drove to sph on friday to meet eisen for lunch and woots did not get lost or killed going there (getting back was another matter altogether. note to self: just let the damn idiots overtake already instead of speeding up damn bitchily). my inner lemming was obviously on the prowl--kept swerving into the path of traffic and eisen had to pull me back umpteen times before i got squashed beneath the wheels of some enterprising subaru or something. wahaha INCIDENTALLY i HAVE to highlight this: we were walking towards botak jones when he suddenly said "eh you walk outside instead." it had taken about two milliseconds for him to realise that my heels would get caught in the uneven paving stones and i would trip and die-- i swear he realised it even before i did. this, despite working 20 hours a day haha the poor boy doesn't even have energy left to check girls out *patpat* gambette twerpy. nette and i will bring good food for you if need be before we fly away :(
this week-- this couple of days, actually-- eisen, ni and tracy asked me variations on the same question: why i insist on walking them to wherever they're taking their train/bus/elevator from. the answer, cliched as it was, appeared over my earphones tonight in the form of jon mclaughlin's "beautiful disaster"-- she hates the sound that goodbyes make. but goodbye it is now-- i'm deathly tired for some strange reason. no more to wake, no more to roam-- not for tonight. sleep is welcome in my home.