Shake That Bee

This weekend has felt a bit like a retreat.

First, there was the triumphant Nia class I detailed in my last post.

Then on Saturday, we went to Costco. (No, that part was not like a retreat.) But from 3-7 p.m. I went to a fabulous new complex in Point Loma for a "playshop" with Marguerite in a big, sunny studio with 25 other Nia acolytes. We didn't actually do any Nia. But we did some karate chopping, some shaking, some sounding, and then all kinds of crazy freedance and drumming and screaming. Sound scary to you? It sounded a bit scary to me, too, but then I had a blast. That's my motto for 2008: "Get comfortable being uncomfortable." Have I mentioned that already?

This morning, I left the house at the crack of dawn (9:30) for Marguerite's guest Nia class, where she went freestyle to a packed house. Marguerite is a wizard at just choreographing whatever occurs to her in the moment, and she had a lot of Latin-y rump-shaking songs including one called "Black Machine is Jazz Machine." When I am at my most confident, I can't imagine doing "x-treme choreography" for over an hour.

Something about screaming and shaking seems to have aggravated my sinuses--I had a killer headache last night--but otherwise I feel nice and loosey-goosey. After Nia, David and Jarrah picked me up and we went to the Chinese New Year festival downtown. It's only a couple of blocks, but the stage shows are pretty awesome, and there are lion dancers. Jarrah has a love-hate thing with the lions--she can't wait to see them, and then as soon as she hears the drums, she says, "I don't LIKE lion dancing!"

After some shopping and gawking, we went to lunch with Mary, Paul and Joy, and the restaurant happened to have a raised stage in one corner (for a DJ, maybe?) The place was pretty empty, though, and the music was really loud, so Jarrah and Joy entertained themselves for an hour by promenading with outstretched arms, jutting their chins and making their eyes go all wounded and tortured. When they weren't sprinting up and the down the stairs, that is.

Somehow it got really late and David and I are enjoying an hour of Sunday afternoon naptime quiet before our date night. We're going to the Jewish Film Festival to see a documentary called "Making Trouble" that I really should have been asked to consult on. It's about the history of Jewish women comedians. And no, Readers, I'm not suggesting I belong in that history, but rather that I spent seven years researching it. But don't mind me: I'll just sit here in the dark.

Here's a Jarrah conversation to tide you over until next time. Last night before dinner, Jarrah was jumping around crazily and refusing to wash her hands. She was dressed in a pink track suit and suddenly started doing this dance that was all elbows and head-flicks.

Jarrah: Looka me!

Sam: All right, B-girl. Looks great. Now go wash your hands.

Jarrah: And when I get back, I can sting you!