First week of March.

March 8, 2009

This week was an active one. Monday night was German class. Tuesday night was Krav Maga (this class’ highlight was the moment just before we adjourned when we formed two rows and walked one by one down the center, at which point everyone else pummeled the chosen one as hard as possible. Lovely!). I just wish that both of those classes were more than once a week! We cover so much in that 90 minutes or 2 hours; just imagine what we could accomplish with twice that.

Wednesday night, we headed to London to celebrate my cousin Josh’s birthday. Then Thursday night, I attended a presentation on Zaytoun olive oil, during which I heard why one Palestinian man would prefer we fight for his cause by trading with his people instead of merely giving handouts (“a future with dignity,” he called it). I did my part! Bought olive oil, herbs, soap, and almonds.

Friday night, I did NOTHING, and it was glorious. Oh, except make stuffed peppers, which took three hours. One hour of prep, and two of cooking. I am clearly quite dedicated.

Yesterday was the best night of the week though. We attended an International Women’s Day celebration at RISC. My friend, Alice, had a part in the evening’s festivities. She was throwing a spontaneous tea party for the crowd. Spontaneous for us, not for her. She put a lot of thought into it beforehand! She made chocolate cake, lemon muffins, and had to bring enough dishes to serve dozens of people. (There were a couple hundred people in attendance, but not all of them sat for tea. I did, and I don’t even like tea. I do, however, like chocolate cake and my friend, Alice.)

Her classmate, Lucy, also had an exhibit. She had a room set up of framed, semi-transparent paper, backlit by spotlights. The idea was that females would place their body parts (any body part – the frames were at different heights so you could show off your shoulders, or lay down and do your back, or sit and use your legs) behind the frames and see what landscapes get created. Alice demonstrated for me, and the ruffles on her apron created the neatest little houses on the hill of her hip. It was daunting at first to participate, but once I gave in, it proved to be quite fun. My curves are pretty, haha.

There were also performers. The MC was a magician on the side, so she threw in illusions between acts. There was one singer/songwriter who was painfully amateur, so I won’t be linking her myspace! There was a gospel singer, who doubled as a comedienne. We did miss one of the headliners – a 63-year activist/poet/raver who apparently fit the exact mold of the feminist that send men and prim and proper girls running. Poetry about periods, mostly. There was also the Reading Gay Chorus, and I don’t know if the group comprises lesbians alone, or if they kept their gay men at home since this was a celebration of women. They were…enthusiastic.

During their performance, there were a couple of women in the crowd who were singing along, and I daresay they were attempting to outsing the chorus. I looked at Michael and said, “Isn’t that weird?” And he replied, “What? EVERYTHING?” He said he felt like Don Draper hanging out with his mistress’ crowd in Mad Men.
(“How do you sleep at night?” “On a bed made of money.”)

The best performance of the night, though, was by Invocal, a trio dressed in Victorian fashion (cellist), in lingerie (singer), and as Johnny Depp in…any Johnny Depp movie, really (guitarist). Their voices were superb, and their songs were funny as hell. One song was about the guitar player’s childhood, which she called quite idyllic. She described the farmland and the hills surrounding her house. Then she clued us in to the title of the song, which was, “Treachery, Conspiracy, and Doom.”

I was actually a part of the fun though! One artist’s piece in the exhibit involved a patchwork of local women with the names of women that they admire. And my picture and choice was in it! I took a picture to show you all.


Do you see what I see?



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