I had a kind of crummy day today (more on that later, maybe) but when I saw this clip tonight, I laughed so hard that tears came down my cheeks. And then I threw some bacon down the stairs.
Also! I believe this fine young lady has been taking dance lessons at the dog park.
You are welcome.
Edited to Add: Oh dear sweet Lord. (not safe for work!)
I danced three times on Friday night, and paid a handsome price for it the rest of the weekend. For the last 48 hours or so, I’ve been completely out of it, thanks to the muscle relaxants I took to keep the pain to a minimum. All this pain, all this zoned-outness, and for what? A bunch of lewd Egyptians in a hookah bar, one of whom said that he “wanted to play my tits like drums.”
Lord.
It wasn’t all muscle relaxants, though — this was the first weekend in months that I wasn’t traveling somewhere or pushing pushing pushing on getting something done. I have felt lately like I am using every fiber of my body, every ounce of strength to tackle life. Every moment of my days has been planned - during the day, I am wholly consumed by work; in the evenings, there is homework to do, housework to tackle, and, oh yeah — a house to purchase. All that being said, the house is a shambles - I feel like I am just barely keeping my head above the waves. This weekend, faced with almost nothing by way of commitments, all of the postponed exhaustion of the last few weeks hit me at once. I found myself almost comically unable to get any forward momentum going. I was in my pajamas, unwashed, until almost 6 pm yesterday, and until 4pm today. I’d feel bad for being so non-productive (well, and I DO) if I weren’t so damn tired.
Matt went out and bought a bottle of champagne this evening. It looks like the house will actually be ours — something that I can hardly believe. Two glasses of champale didn’t exactly help the whole wooziness/weariness thing, but we had to celebrate. Even Bones got into the act, hopping up on the bed and rolling around in glee, big sloppy grin on his face.
Tomorrow, back to the wearying grind. But in a little over two weeks — new digs, and the exhausting process of buying a house will be over. I have to think that home ownership HAS to be easier than the process of acquiring one!
nighters.
(Mmm - that sounds good, actually.)
Anyway, in response to the OVERWHELMING demand for a new post, I offer the following quickie post:
I had a mini car accident last week (yeah, in my BRAND NEW car). I was just minding my own business when WHAM! my passenger side mirror just explodes. My head whips around and I realize that this idiot of a woman (parked on the right side of the street) has just opened her car door directly into me as I was driving past. Obviously, she didn’t even bother to check and see if anyone was coming. I expected her to take the blame, but she insisted that it was actually MY fault. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but I finally said that I would file a claim with my insurance because this was just ridiculous and she should pay for the damage to my car. If she didn’t want to volunteer to do it, I’d have my insurance company make her do it.
After I got home, cooler heads (read: Matt’s) prevailed, and I decided it wasn’t worth filing a claim over. The only damage was my broken passenger side mirror – the metal casing for it wasn’t even dinged. $50, maybe $100 max to repair. So I was a bit surprised when I got a call on Friday of last week from Geico (her insurer) saying that SHE’D filed a claim.
I gave all my information to Geico, and waited to hear back. The adjuster called me yesterday afternoon, and with barely stifled laughter in her voice, said “I looked at site photos today, and, soooooooo yeah – we’re going to pay for all your damage. And a rental car for you. And we’ll warranty repairs for so long as you own the car.”
BITCH GOT BURNED.
That’ll teach her to play straight. She would have had to fork over maybe $100 if she’d paid for my damage herself, but now she not only gets to pay for all of the above, but her insurance rates will go up because she had an at-fault accident.
(Evil chortles.)
Have a good weekend, peeps. Try not to clobber me with your cars, because if you do, I will GET YOU.
sparkleydoodahs
I got some video yesterday of a very recent performance of mine. It’s the first footage of my own dancing that I’ve seen since summer of 2006. Seeing it really made me feel good – my dancing has become more polished, my stage presence has gotten even better, and I’m just damn good. Damn good, and I get better all the time, if I say so myself.
Unfortunately, the video arrived the day after I had a pretty depressing appointment with my doctor about the constant pain I’m in as a result of dancing.
The problem is a bit of a mystery, but the effect isn’t – after I dance, I get burning, searing pain in my right hip, traveling up into my lower back. I can barely walk. Standing hurts. Driving hurts, because the muscles I use to press the gas and brake are the same ones that I use when I dance. I have to double up on a dose of muscle relaxants to feel even slightly better. I have to take pain medicine. Even the gentlest touch on the skin of my hip feels like someone is jabbing me with needles.
It SUCKS.
The pain first started five years ago when I began to dance several times a week. It got worse slowly then. I’ve had a pattern the last few years of going on hiatus during the school year, then dancing during the summer. I used to get a bit of a grace period before it built up to really unendurable levels. Now, when I come off of hiatus and start dancing again, the pain is triggered almost immediately. I’ve done everything you can think of – chiro, massage, acupuncture, physical therapy (including ultrasound, electric stimulation, strengthening exercises), steroid injections, anti-inflammatory meds – the whole nine. The only thing that makes it go away, though, is not dancing. The correlation is direct – when I’m dancing, I’m in pain. When I take a break, I’m not in pain any more.
On Wednesday, I went to my doctor, almost in tears. There HAS to be something else that can make it better. There MUST be. Surgery or nerve blocks – SOMETHING. But he told me what I didn’t want to hear – if the only thing that helps is not dancing, maybe I should stop dancing. For good. Retire.
There’s so much yet that I want to do. I want to teach, I want to hold workshops, I want to travel to perform all over the place. There are parts of my dancing that I want to develop more. I’m not ready to retire – I’m just NOT. But if there’s no solution for this pain, I might not have a choice. I just can’t live like this forever.
This weekend, I’m traveling to North Carolina with Sheburtsy to teach workshops and perform. This is the first time I’ve been invited to teach a workshop out of the area, and the first time I’ve gotten “star” billing somewhere other than my own area. Okay, granted, the workshop is hosted by Figgy, and it’s partly an excuse to get down to Asheville and hang out for the weekend, but still. I want to keep doing this for many years to come – I want this to be the FIRST workshop I teach out of the area, not the only one.
For now, I’m gonna enjoy this weekend, dance my heart out, and hope for a solution that will keep me shimmying for years yet.
Oh! Hello! Sorry, didn’t mean to leave you dangling like that. It’s just been a bit of an insane week.
So! We are now under contract for that gorgeous house that Matt and I wanted so desperately. Holy frijoles, peeps - we might be homeowners by the end of this month! Things are moving at a rapid clip - title, survey, inspections all ordered, loan app completed, and nesting mode in full swing (I looked over at Matt’s screen this morning and saw him surfing for lawn mowers. On mine: furniture listings on Craigslist). Frankly, it’s all just a little unreal, but very, VERY exciting.
Warning - complete topical detour ahead.
Project Make-A-Baby remains stalled out, mostly because of the fact that my cycle has gone completely batshit insane. I had my period two weeks ago (36 day cycle). And on Thursday, I realized I was getting my period again….. 12 days after the last one had started. Hello, body, please for to cooperate with my baby planning. It is very hard to get in a knocked up fashion when you have no idea when you’re ovulating.
However, it might be a good thing that no pregnancy has occurred yet. As much as I’m loving all the changes that we’re making in our lives right now, having a baby on top of everything else would just be a wee bit insane. Don’t get me wrong - I ain’t gonna stop trying - but maybe it’s not a bad thing that nothing has happened yet.
Ciao!
Lucy
We looked at the house last night.
Loved it.
LUHHHHHHHHHHHHHVED IT.
(Because, oh yeah, we were totally ready to make an offer without ever seeing the house.)
We were going to offer less than the listing price, but after seeing how much work the seller had put into it, and hearing from the listing agent that the sellers really did want their asking price, we buckled and put in an offer for full listing price.
The listing agent contacted us this morning and said that he was certain that the sellers would be “very pleased” with the offer. Papers are now being drawn up. Eeek!
So, speaking of spending insane amounts of money, we bought a new car for me on Saturday. This is my new baby:
2008 Nissan Versa hatchback. Okay, it’s not a luxury car or nuffern, but it’s the very first brand new car I’ve ever owned. Matt displayed heroic negotiating abilities at the car dealership on Saturday (we were there for SIX. HOURS.) and we were very happy with the end price.
I figure I should probably go ahead and enroll in law school now, as long as we’re gleefully incurring debt. 
lucy
Let’s see. In the last six months:
- Matt started a new job
- I started a new job
- We got married
- We got a dog
- We bought a car for me (yes, just this past weekend)
And now, we are putting in an offer on this:
(The kitchen earned two photos because it’s just that awesome.)
Wish us luck!
Lucy
Because my dog is cute as all hell.
“WHAT IS THIS PERSONAL SPACE YOU SPEAK OF?”*
* totally ripped off from a ihasahotdog.com caption.
Unfortunately, in addition to my chest cold, I also brought a lovely case of heat rash home with me from Texas.
YUCK.
