This week is starting off a bit tiresomely (is that a word?) at work. I do what I can. We're working on a large scholarly communication/open access publishing initiative, and if I can be frank, it's a bit of a drag. We're all just so busy right now, and the middle of the fall semester isn't a good time for overarching, giant projects. I was so flustered when I left Friday that I forgot about some food that I left in the office refrigerator and left it behind. And the food in question was from my dad, who I saw before work as I dropped off some stuff for my parents to take to my sister (the poor, house-burned-down one) since they were driving to see her over the weekend. And given that it's from my dad, it's a bit...different :) My dad is of Native American descent, and has always valued good old fashioned hunting for food (not for sport). So, there is still elk sausage residing in the office refrigerator. Oh well.
Friday evening I had the brightener of my new bellydance class to look forward to, and I geared myself up for the new challenges in the tougher class. I'm no bellydance superstar in the making, but I hold my own in there. The new choreography for performance group involves me using a fan veil, and so far it and I have a decided love/hate relationship going on. What this thing is is a fan with a silk veil attached to it. For one thing, I'm not very coordinated, and I'm finding it hard to keep the fan open while (a) waving it around, and (b) dancing. I'm getting hand cramps, and with each cramp I resent the fan more. And the veil...I'm used to chiffon veils, and the silk is a whole 'nother animal. You flick a chiffon veil, and it comes immediately back down. You flick a silk veil...and it comes down whenever the heck it feels like it. It's like doing a duet; you don't have any control over what the other person does. So, my silk veil has been busily pooling at my feet and getting stuck in my legs and causing me to trip. It also coils up unexpectedly and looks all clumpy coming off of a dramatic sweep. Lovely. But we're getting there.
So, after that, Henry and I had the weekend to ourselves, since Mike was out of town attending a football game with his dad and uncle. Playground playing, Transformers racetrack racing and Scooby Doo episodes abounded. After I got Henry to sleep Saturday evening, I settled in for some serious girl time. I so rarely get the tv to myself that when I do I really, really seek out movies and programs with a high chick-flick factor. First, I watched a bellydance performance DVD. Then I popped in my favorite chick movie of all time: Center Stage. A ballet dance movie - Mike shudders in revulsion at the thought. It was so, so wonderful. I sipped wine, watched my movie, and sighed in bliss. I don't want every weekend to be like that, certainly, but every once in a while rejuvenaging alone time is needed and soothing.