Racialism, Muscles, Literature, and Dance

I have strange recollections of my dream: I live in Canada, which is divided into three regions: the West (controlled by Red Indians), the East (controlled by Black Africans), and the South (controlled by White Cowpokes). The Whites are gathered together with a a large circle of covered wagons pointing arse-end out. I am wearing a yellow gingham dress and a big Holly Hobby-style bonnet. The menfolk are discussing how we'll never survive--that wave after wave of Blacks and Reds are wiping us out. Oddly enough, the Whites are the native North Americans, and the Blacks and Reds are the European invasion.

I have no idea what inspired the wacky racialist dream. And where did all the Northerners go? Maybe to China or Saudi Arabia. No Yellow or Brown people were represented, after all. And considering I more or less identify myself as Inuit, I'm curious as to why I was such a whitebread honky in my dream. Ah well.

I finally made it to the gym today, and my quads are all aquiver. Kung fu is going to be quite the task. Christmas acts as an alchemist converting muscle into fat, and sweets are the philosopher's stone. Unfortunately, I can't think of any food which acts in the opposite direction, so it's extra gym time for me. I hope I'll be able to fit it into my work schedule. I don't think I'll be able to take yoga classes, and I'm worried my kung fu time is going to shrivel up due to incipient shift work.

I'm going back into retirement from figure modelling again. I modelled this afternoon, and I'll be doing it again on Thursday. After that, the artists will just have to find someone else with which to fill their drawing pads.

I finished reading Daniel Quinn's Ishmael the other night, and as I set the book down, I heard myself say "Hmm." And then I said it again. And again. f00dave asked me what I was hmming about, so I told him to read the book. It made my brains whirl around in my head. The book gets especially interesting right around the explication of the Cain and Abel story. Check it out and see what I mean. Thanks for lending it to me, zero_design. I'm now working on snowy_kathryn's recommendation, Chuck Palhniuk's Lullaby. So far, so good.

After all the recommendations made to me as per my request a month or so back, I have a lot of books in my to-be-read queue which weren't there before.

Last night, I gave a private dance lesson to Anna and lickthefrog. I'd actually taught Anna before, maybe four years back. Both dancers have been studying Egyptian dance in Toronto, and I'm impressed by their repertoire of movements. I have a very North American nightclub approach to my dance, and their Saidi style is quite exotic to me. I showed them some floorwork, a glute shimmy, and how to do a faux (ie. safe) Turkish drop. Afterwards, I went to Lickthefrog's place where we danced with her sister (a ballet dancer), her sister's friend, and Keltie. It was fun, but I had stomach cramps and then I forgot three of my CDs there. Doh! I hope I can get them back before she returns to Toronto.

Right now, superbrad, f00, Dmitrii, and Linda are playing Starfarers of Catan in the kitchen. I'd play too, but it's a four-player game, so I opted out in favour of relaxation.

It looks like that relaxation is drawing to a close. Kung fu is nigh.

I'm a Sweat Heart

Oh jeez, that was rough. I did a few hundred dragons, lots of partnered kicking drills (and have a nice goose egg on my shin from a collision with an elbow), heaps of crunches, and a bunch of gung gee repetitions. It might not sound like much, but I haven't sweat that much in months. I'll probably be walking oddly for the next two days. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower. I feel grosser than Courtney Love.