Went to Seattle with Sam.  We learned a lot and had a great time.  I could write pages about it but I just met my daughter’s girlfriend — Did I mention the youngest is a lesbian? — and I am a little wrought up.  The middle daughter called and said I’d really like her; that everyone agreed she reminded them of me.  Hmmm, I had to go for a walk after they left.  It’s like I soaked up her energy and the kid has some serious angst.  She’s lovely, though.  And my dog loved her dog.  She and my daughter could pass for sisters.  The girl looks like a cross between me and my ex.  I can’t wait to hear what he says about her.  They are all headed to the beach for the annual bash on the 4th. 

My house is clean, which feels nice.  And I’m listening to Norah Jones because my daughter forgot the CD so that’s nice.  But I can’t shake that energy.

I’m sorry I’ve been so absent.  Stuff I don’t want to write about had taken over my soul.  Gotta keep better tabs on that.

I had THE BEST time tonight at my blues bar.  The Sunday night jam is being hosted by someone new and he’s just about my favorite guy to dance with.  He’s much younger and everyone loves him so I only get one dance usually, plus he’s on stage most of the time.  He’s the one who taught me the two-step.  Out of all the band leaders I’ve met, he is the most charismatic, has the most fun, is a fabulous performer, and can work any kind of crowd. 

Tonight some people showed up I haven’t seen in a while.  And there was a new guy.  His wife died a year ago, and he had come with this woman I’m semi friends with, so we all sat together, and he danced half the dances with me.  Plus, another guy, who is a fantastic dancer, was there, too.  He is good friends with the tall woman, who was sharing her date with me.  I think we’re all gonna show up next Sunday and do it again.  Only the new guy’s going to bring his friend who I happen to know and really like.  He’s too young but I’ve spent a fair amount of time with him because he lives next door to J, my old dance partner who fell in love and left me to dance in my kitchen.

It felt so good to be part of a group, everyone out on the dance floor together.  And the band leader was so happy we were all there.  He used to sit in with the jam on Wed nights but they quit and the new group isn’t his thing.  Or mine.  So, now it’s his gig, and all his fans were there.  It’s such a cool place, and if this works out we will all be very happy.  Ya never know with musicians, though.

I have this nagging suspicion that I am not contributing enough; that I am supposed to be writing something about food as medicine; that I was spared in order to help change the way people eat.  Even if it is just a few people.  I dropped the ball.  I am not cooking for any cancer patients and I don’t really want to at this point.  I am not writing, except for here, and I miss it but I just can’t get up for it these days.

I wake up every morning, excited that it is Thursday, for example.  That’s the day my Spanish group meets.  After Jack left, the other gal and I speculated about why he is so secretive.  Today he said he was born in San Francisco after I pressed him again about where he was from.  He added that he had never been to school.  You should see his eyes.  There’s so much going on in his head that when he concentrates and you see how his brain works, thinking if this is true than that’s true and forming a pattern — his eyes burn even brighter with the new power of whatever piece of knowledge he’s added. 

I’m starting to like this older woman more than Jack, though.  When I called my sister from the table, because she speaks some Spanish and said she’d help us, the other gal started singing along to the music in the coffee shop, some big-band tune from the 40s.  Just under her breath while she waited for me to be off the phone, but she had a great voice, and I like people who sing.

Sam and I are going on a field trip to Seattle for an investors thing the IBD is putting on.  I just made the reservation for one room with TWO beds.  They better not mess that up.  He said he’d drive.  We’re going up the day before so we’ll have time to see the city, and I’ll meet his son.  I keep telling him to tell this new woman that I’m an old friend of the family so that’s why I’m keen on meeting his son.  I’m sort of kidding.  He hasn’t told her about me and they still haven’t kissed.  She put her arms around him though.  But she said she wasn’t leaving a message as long as his wife’s voice was still on the answering machine. 

Today is my wedding anniversary, or at least it was for 28 years.  Toward the end we did the same thing most years.  It’s our Rose Festival weekend and everything was always booked downtown, so we’d go out to stay on the Columbia.  I would have gotten drunk last night and had lots of sex.  Sunday morning we’d get up and go look for coffee.  Breakfast would be at the truckstop and legendary, if you like that sort of thing.  Dinner, the night before, was usually on the deck at Salty’s.  We even watched the porn movies.  The whole weekend was surreal the first time but in subsequent years I would look forward to it.  I even thought about going back there by myself, going to all the same places.  After dinner there was a nice club with good music and a dance floor.  He didn’t dance but it was fun to watch.  Now I could dance.

I spent yesterday with the oldest.  She dyed my hair and did my nails and make-up.  Then she insisted on picking out something for me to wear.  That always makes me nervous but I end up looking great, mixing and matching things I never would have thought of.  My recorder class, as part of the school’s concert, performed last night.  The two oldest came with their boyfriends but stayed just long enough to hear me play.  It was fun, and they got to meet my new friend — Um, I’ll call her CC.  She’s the one I went dancing with that time.  We have lots in common and it’s great to have someone single to hang out with. 

That was yesterday, though.  Today I lost even more money and am feeling very discouraged.  It’s cold enough that I turned the heat back on.  It’s grey and raining and I had hot chocolate for dinner which made me feel like shit.  My body hates that much sugar.  I always put too many marshmellows on top.

My Spanish group met today, and he was all cleaned up and very assertive.  I’ll call him Jack.  Geez, I hope I can keep all these phony names straight.  I remarked about the huge drop in the dow and he countered “You should have bought puts.”  So now he’s savvy about the market, too.  I gave him a surprised look, which he ignored.  His English was just about perfect, too, with much less accent.  Even his Spanish pronunciation was 80% better.  He admitted today he had taken Spanish before.  I am dying to call the other gal to see what she has to say about the way he was acting, like he knew everything.  He had expensive clothes on, too, which I hadn’t seen before.  I guess some of his shirts are, come to think of it. 

I managed to piss him off by laughing at the way he wrinkled his nose again.  This time it was over the coffee and more subtle, like a discerning chef at the excess of nutmeg in a white sauce.  I loved it but I enjoyed it in a way that made him feel bad.  Maybe I should call him.

After dinner with Sam I head over to Jill’s.  She’s the one I used to work out with every morning when our youngest were first born, up until grade school.  We only saw each other at the club, and when I started court reporting school I didn’t have time to work out so we lost touch. But lately I’ve been giving her a lesson every Tuesday night. 

I probably shouldn’t refer to it as a lesson because I don’t come with a prepared set of music and steps worked out.  She puts on whatever CD is handy, of the seven I let her burn, and we move around to that.  I warm up and cool down like a real teacher, and I have steps she’s never seen and lots of anecdotes about the teachers on the cover of the CDs but my posture is terrible, I’m out of shape, and I really have no business teaching.  It sure is fun, though.  For those few new people, I’m talking about bellydancing.  When I say out of shape, I have been sitting in front of this computer so long that the vertebrae in my lower back do not have the separation that is required.  But Jill saw me perform once so she knows I used to be good. 

We are thinking it might be fun to work up a choreography.  I’ve never danced with anyone before, except my teachers and, towards the end, mostly I did the dancing and they watched in order to critique.  She’s my height, my age, very thin from all the yoga and tap dance she’s done over the years and really graceful from the ballet she took as a kid.  She’d be a great partner.  She plays piano and keyboard in their band so she’s easy to teach rhythms to.  Plus she’s taken beginning bellydance for years.  She never moved up because…. well, I’m not sure why.  She doesn’t know how to keep the rest of her body still while just the hips move.  She wants to bounce around all the time.  But she’s so cute and fun and when we get the veils out and swirl around like we’re little kids I drive home so exhilarated.

By “no moral compass” I meant the tendency to see things for what they are and not how they are supposed to be.  My mother-in-law, I mean ex-, recently corrected me by saying it wasn’t wrong or right it was just different from what I thought.  On the plane back, the five-hour ride from hell with a broken seat and no pillow, I met a guy reading a very large book.  Like each page had two columns.  It was called the Book of Secrets and was written by a guru in India who was popular back in the 70s.  He’s since died but the young man was devoting himself to the teachings.  I mean the thing weighed a ton and for him to be carting it around on the plane says something.  His wife told him he had to be more in the present and less in his head; that he worked too much.  They went to the bookstore together and that was the book he found.  He absolutely came alive when he talked about it and the lessons he was learning.  I told him I was trying to learn how to experience people and events in a more transparent way, letting emotions move through me but not getting caught up or hanginging onto things which were maybe no more than learning experiences.  He said that was one of the premises of the book.  He said the book teaches that we do ourselves a disservice by focusing on good and bad so much and that we should take life as it comes — I’m paraphrasing his paraphrase — and be less judgmental. 

Seeing as how we were attempting to drop down through lightening and a windstorm, and I had this crazy idea I wasn’t going to make it home, I started thinking of the if-it-feels-good-do-it- mentality I grew up with in the 60s.  But then we landed and I remembered how much sense I thought the Bible made; that the ten commandments were mostly set up in order that people live a sane and happy life.