My not-quite do-nothing weekend

I had a decent weekend considering my somewhat constant state of poverty.  I didn’t get to take care of everything on my to-do list, but I never do.  I usually end up feeling pretty guilty about it though, but today, not so much.  I've decided to take that as a sign that I’m growing.  Or perhaps that I'm turning into Wally from the Dilbert comic strip.  Hmmm, or maybe it's a little bit of both.

My weekend started out pretty harmless Friday night when I caught SCB over at The Hotel Café.  I missed their last show there in early April, so it was a nice to get out and see the boys again.  They put on an okay show; nothing stellar, but as good as usual.  Dave came out and jammed in the audience for a bit, Jonah’s solos are getting better and funkier since he’s joined the band, and Steve missed up on an entrance – which is not too out of the ordinary now that I think about it.

I think the overall mix was a little funky, but I can’t tell if that was because Steve said he had just restrung his guitar like an hour before the show or because of something more technical that I know too little about.  Dress was magic on the bass – again, as usual.  I made a joke to he and Jonah after the show that this is the first time I’ve seen everyone in the band wear a button-down except Dave, who was wearing a T.  Dave (the sax player) is usually the one a bit more overdressed and snazzy, and everyone else looks like they just rolled out of bed.  He probably thinks they do it just to f@!* with him, poor guy. 

Groovin' on the Inside

I don’t have the new CD yet, but if I don’t catch it at one of their shows, I can always order it from CD Baby.  My money’s a little funny at the mo’, and I’m in no big rush.  There’s another artist I’ve been meaning to check out over at CD Baby, so maybe I’ll grab both CDs together. 

Saturday morning, I made myself go back to the Jazz dance class I observed about a month and a half ago.  I took 2 classes back when Pendu was out on the road, so technically I’ve never taken the class while she was teaching it, and I genuinely want to get back into Jazz.  I’m not giving up on Ballet, mind you, but after sitting in on that first Jazz class in 8 years, I found myself fighting the urge to get up and join in.  My passion for the dance certainly hasn’t died or diminished in any way.  My body, however, is another story.

I went to the noon Beginner Jazz class, and after taking note of the fact that I was probably the oldest and fattest person there, proceeded to huff and puff like the Big Bad Wolf for an hour and 15 minutes.  Today, my thighs ache, my ribs are screaming, and my back feels like I slept on a plank of wood.  I sneezed around 10:30 this morning, and damn near wanted to cry.  And guess what?  I look forward to going back to the class next time.  Because despite the fact that my body didn’t quite know which end was up and I was sweating like Rush Limbaugh at a Million Man March, I wasn’t nearly as terrible as I thought I would be and I know I’ll only get better if I stick with it.

So I’ll return.  I’ll be the second tallest chick out of a room full of 5-foot-3 gnomes.  I’ll be the thick and chunky sister standing at the back giving it her all.  But not until the Saturday after next.  I have a hair appointment this weekend.  Hey!  This hair doesn’t twist itself!  But here’s hoping my body won’t feel completely out of it again.  I must make a note to have a nice, long stretch after class.

Jazz was followed by a quick stop by my P.O. Box, then some leisurely café time spent with my favorite chai latte, a rice krispie treat, and my new issue of Dance Spirit.  Fast forward to the late afternoon where I get lost trying to find the Earth 2 comic book store.  After breaking out the trusty Thomas Guide, I found it via the Noble side street.  I lucked into a parking meter that still had 50 minutes left on it, and I hopped inside to peruse the shelves before picking 2 of the free comics available.  They actually allowed you to grab a max of 5 free comics, but I didn’t really see a lot that caught my eye.  I considered asking someone on the staff for a recommendation, but they were busy gabbin’ with the guests of honor and didn’t seem like they cared to be bothered.  Not a good sign, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt this time.

I also went against my original plan of not actually buying anything new and instead purchased #1, 2 and 3 of Buffy Season 8.  I said I wasn’t going to buy the new comics because I was satisfied with the way the TV series ended and I felt I had enough closure to move on, but my damn curiosity got the better of me.  That, and I didn’t want to look like a schnook just coming in to grab the free comics.  I also considered jumping into a new comic fandom and taking it for a spin, but honestly, nothing really struck me as a must read. 

To be blunt, I lacked the desire to delve into a comic featuring predominantly white characters.  A lot of the mainstream comics simply didn’t do anything for me anymore.  I asked my mother on the phone Sunday evening, “Where are the black comics?  Where are the ones featuring non-white characters, even if they are apart of an ensemble?”  She told me that my best bet was to read Spawn because most mainstream comic book stores usually only carry Blade and Spawn as far as black comics go.  I told her that I saw Blade there, but no Spawn.  I asked her to recommend a good black comic book that I could maybe search for online, but she said that she’d have to give it some thought because she hasn’t read comics regularly in years, and there just aren’t that many good black comics available.

Hmmm.  I have more thoughts on that, but I’ll save it for another post.  Movin’ on.  I was supposed to attend the Art International exhibit reception at the NoHo LA gallery that evening, but I have to admit that I flaked.  My energy went a bit phfftt! right around the time I was supposed to start getting ready, so I opted to lie around and read my magazines and watch my new Futurama Netflix DVD.  Yeah, I'm not notorious for my flaking, but it's been known to happen.

Sunday was a mini-makeup day, because I had to makeup for the lazy lying about I did on Saturday night.  So I dragged my butt out of bed at a decent hour and tackled some housework like the good little girl that I am.  I knew I wanted to catch Spidey 3 at the movies that afternoon as well, but I tried to do the responsible thing and finished at least one load of laundry and one sink full of dishes.  (Damn plastic lunch containers make up an entire sink’s worth on their own.)

After I came back from the movies, I was a bit too tired to cook, so I just loafed around until bedtime.  I bought a chicken salad at Wendy's, and watched that SNL in the '90s special.  I didn't do the writing I need to complete.  I didn't make time to meditate, vacuum, or mop the bathroom floor.  But you know what?  Who cares?  It'll be there tomorrow.

See, I'm growing.  How was your weekend?