blog armada

I went to a yoga class at my old college roomate's yoga studio last night - it was fantastic! She's so in her element, so funny and wise. I'm definitely going back.

Then a bunch of my friends and I hiked up into the mountains to watch the eclipse. What we saw of it was beautiful -- though there were enough clouds that we would laugh and as "what are we staring at again?"

O is in Paris now, teaching improvisation classes at a circus school. He keeps leaving me messages -- with the time difference we keep missing each other. We have a phone date for 2 pm today, so I'll finally be able to talk with him. He's away for three weeks, and I'm wondering how real he'll be to me by the time he gets back. Part of me wants to put him away in a little box and not think about him too much, and part of me wants to put the effort in and keep him real. Even though missing him is a little hard.

My friend Laura is in love with a man she won't see for two years, he's tending forests on the Isle of Man, and she says "I don't pity you one bit. Not one little bit!!" Which of course, makes me laugh. It's all in the perspective.


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So I taught my first Duncan classes last week at a Waldorf school. I feel that I have somehow arrived. My dear friend Laura and I taught four classes, grades one through four. The class theme was of lions who, when the first golden leaf falls, know they need to go to the magical mountain to renew their heart energy. We thought this class would engage the boys as much as the girls - and we were right. We had thirty little lion cubs, wrestling and biting one another. Two little ones in red shirts were rolling around on the floor, play-biting each other. "Don't worry, we're brothers," they say, "We won't hurt each other!"

The two younger classes were full of tiny children, who seemed extra-innocent and very young. Very soft and sweet like you'd imagine the two youngest grades in a Waldorf school. The little girls kept wanting to hug me, and one girl - with long red hair and tiny granny glasses - tried to play with my hair every time it got within her reach. "You're so *nice*!" one little creature said as she hugged me all the way around with both her arms, looking up at me.

In the two older classes - remember these children were only 8 and 9 years old - they were so much more intellectual, cynical, and verbal than I expected. They wouldn't let themselves get caught up in the magic of the story, they stayed well outside the mythos. A few got close but still wanted to act cool.

Laura and I were in our full Duncan regalia - long silk tunics and scarves. I wore a long turquoise tunic with a bright gold scarf tucked into my shoulder straps and flowing out behind me. All the teachers in the school looked at us funny as we walked by with our children, and one older girl asked us if we were in a play.

There were a few boys with a lot of energy who possibly weren't allowed into the regular schools. One, Andreas, was being wild and I told him that I really wanted him to stay in the class, (the teacher had told us to send out anyone who wasn't behaving - we were guest teachers, they didn't expect us to discipline). I said "Would you rather stay here and be a lion on an adventure? Because if we send you out, you'll just have to sit in a boring office. I think it would be much more fun to stay here, but it will take some focus for you." Amazingly, he pulled it together and participated in the rest of the class.

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Sometimes when I'm surfing around the web, reading other peoples' blogs, I sometimes go to my blog, to see if there's something new there.

And I always wonder why there isn't something new! Some anecdote, some little moment or a long thoughtful post. Or even just what I've been up to.

Sometimes I wonder about myself!


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I felt cranky all day today. It felt like my head was full of bees, like I'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed.

It started with me being awakened early by the house painter scraping paint outside my bedroom window. I realized that he could see me from his perch on the ladder - he could see my little head right there on the pillow, waking up. How awkward! Should I get up and close the blinds? Ignore him? What's the protocol here?! My solution: pull blanket over head.

Once I was up, I went to get my car's oil changed. When I went to pay, the woman at the register called me "Mr. Francis" then smiled and said "I love your teeth!"

Next, browsing at Salvation Army for good dance pants, a woman asked me "Are you American?" When I said yes, she exclaimed "You look Polish! I never see ugly Polish person!"

I couldn't get answers out of either of these people about why exactly they "loved" my teeth or thought I looked Polish. I'm going to bed now, I'm quite finished with today. It took a long bath and a good book to put me back to normal, whatever that is.




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Last night I asked Kellie two questions which she said were completely unnecessary:

1. Do you want some chocolate?

2. Can I show you a great picture of my butt?


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