Mumbling Madly

Yesterday was one of the worst days I’ve had in a long time:
1. Crazy Vietnam Vet called regarding his ballroom dancing shoes. When he found out I hadn’t ordered them yet, he flew into a rage. He was so pissed he stormed into the store 20 minutes later, ranting and raving about how we hadn’t ordered his shoes, how that was “bad business,” how he was going to promote us but “forget that now”, (slamming our business cards on the counter). Finally Mary Pat said, OK, you need your shoes by Friday? You’ll have them by Friday… it doesn’t matter when we order them now does it? Crazy Vet hated my guts by then because I just stood there smirking, one eyebrow lifted and a “get the hell out of my store” lingering on my tongue. Luckily, the owner is way more skilled with phsychos than I am. Co-workers said he came in on Saturday to order the shoes and on his way out asked if they were christians. When they said no he said, “Oh, so you’re communists then!”
2. Cross-dresser/Border-line Pedophile keeps calling about his broken tights. The store is unsure how to deal with him as of yet, but to give you an indication of how serious some of his remarks were, there is case number given to us by the police.
3. My second of two Pre-ballet classes ends up in tears. One girl’s feet itch in her shoes, suddenly all eight of them want to take their shoes off like her. One girl begins manically scratching her tights, until finally she bursts into tears. I allow her to take them off, even though I know the whole scratching thing is a big lie and a way for her to gain attention. I’m so sick of three-year-olds by the time the class is done.
4. My brother calls with some distrubing news. I show up to my Modern class so pissed, my friend Angela thinks I’m mad at her…(for no reason really, I just had that look of “I hate the world” on my face).
Today has to be better…today is my birthday, dammit.

The rain continues…I’m not tired of it, but I know many Coloroadoans are all hopped up with anxiety: Will we ever see the sun again? WILL WE? (Shaking the person next to them), COLORADO HAS 350 DAYS OF SUNSHINE A YEAR, DON’T YOU KNOW?!!!
Turns out the Cross Dresser was the scary, sketchy, border-line pedophile type. I’m so sad about this, I was really hoping he’d be one of those easy going, wife and kids, loves the feel of silk on his skin, type of cross-dresser. Needless to say his lewd comments and uncomfortable social nature has led us to ban him from the store…even though, tragically, the waistband on the shimmery tights he managed to find, did not work for him, (or his “cousin” as he kept assuring us they were for her). Appearantly they were so old, the lycra had worn out and snapped. I’ll send him his money back, but we’re not inviting HIM back.
I made granola over the weekend, it is delicious. I’ll post the recipe at some point.
Looking at photos on Kris and Johnny’s Blogs filled me with a sense of nostalgia, as I miss the NW so much. The rain in FC has really stirred my inner soul, and Josh and I have talked about moving as early as January. But, where do we move? Would it be foolish to pick up and plop down in Portland with hardly a job-lead in sight? Are there any opportunities for a recently graduated, CIS major and a dance and theater teacher? Is it possible to disentangle ourselves from this hot, dry, state with all its woes, Republicans, and feeble art grants that I’ve been lucky enough to snag?
Well, what do you think?

Ryan “enjoying himself” at the fountain in the recent trip to Las Vegas.

I know this is in bad taste, but I have to admire the whole photographic set-up of this pic.

Leave it to me to start bantering with my sister-in-law about cross-dressing. Yesterday at the store I received a phone call that has become oh-so-familiar these days: The thinly veiled cross-dresser phone call. Now, if you work at a place that sells leotards and tights, you must expect these types of calls. Rarely do these gentlemen come in, and when they do, the clothing is for their mother (for an EARLY Mother’s Day present). The chap on the phone yesterday went round and round about how “the Lady of the House” was interested in shimmery, sparkle tights in black…and she liked them tight around the legs too, would I know how to get them tight around the legs? I patiently reminded him over and over again that we go by the sizing chart on the back of the box, the chart is usually never wrong–unless one is being dishonest about their height and weight. I had to break his heart and inform him that we do not sell sparkle tights, (as most people in the conservative dance world of Fort Collins wouldn’t be caught dead in anything remotely shimmery), BUT we could order them. This produced another round of intimate questions regarding the tight’s thickness and girth. Ten minutes later I encouraged him to just come on into the store and we could see what we could for his “Mother.” Five minutes into the conversation I really wanted to just say, “Look, let’s just be frank…these tights are for you, I don’t care, let’s just eliminate the whole MOM thing and find out what YOU really want.” But, alas, we did not have that dialouge. And I rarely do, usually I have to speak to these fellows with the unspoken understanding that I know the XL long-sleeve leotard is for them. Here are the immediate cross-dressing clues:
1. The clothing is for Mom, Sister, or The Lady of the House.
2. The clothing is usually for “lounging around the house,” not actual dancing.
3. The clothing is usually in a large size, because Mother is unspeakably overweight. Leotards are almost always long-sleeve.
4. If shoes are desired, they are typically high-heels or (my favorite) patent leather tap shoes in a size 11.
Once, an extremely comfortable gentlemen showed a picture of himself as a woman to a co-worker. He was hoping to get her opinion: Did he look like a real woman to her? She was 17 and not really ready to be posed with the question. I wish I had been there. I would have embraced him. Having lived in Capitol Hill in Seattle for a brief period of time, I had been accostomed to queens hanging outside The Pink Zone, and packs of skimply clad men jogging at 6am outside our window. I never felt safer walking around at night, because gay men are typically very pleasant and not at all interested in little old me at 2am.
My sister-in-law is hip enough to know that many cross-dressers aren’t gay at all, just extremely comfortable in women’s clothing. The fellow on the phone yesterday revealed he was a plumber, which is a pretty masculine job. Turns out, when he discovered I wouldn’t be working over the weekend, I think I lost him. We had developed quite a repoir over the phone, and I don’t think he wanted to start it up with another employee over the weekend. If it was up to me, the store would start a cross-dressing phone order system, where these guys could call up and descreetly order their tights and leotards without having to walk into the store. I think there would be a lot of money to be made in this conservative town for a service like that.

Mara and Courtney, Little White Chapel, Las Vegas 2002

For a violence wienie like myself, Kill Bill 2 is the perfect combination of guts and passion. I loved this movie…and that’s saying a lot. I have never been a Tarantino fan. I’m probably the only kid from our generation who totally hated Pulp Fiction…and I still do. I can’t appreciate it, no matter how many chances I give it, and we own the damn dvd! But Kill Bill, here are some of the reasons why I, like so many other’s, think it’s a fine flick:
1. Uma Thurman. Thank God for her, or else this movie would be about something entirely different. The fact that Tarantino has a female protangonist is so rockin, I could hardly stay in my seat. She kicks so much ass, she endures so much grief, and yet, you know she’s going to succeed–she just has to!
2. The passion…you really FEEL the violence in both movies. When Uma’s arm is wrenched behind her back, when her fists bleed from pounding them into wood blocks, when she finds out she’s pregnant. Tarantino is nortorious for countless throw-away violent scenes, (remember Four Rooms?), this time he includes someone who’s actually real. Someone who actually experiences the carnage on the other end…When Uma wakes up from her coma, I couldn’t believe he devoted so much time to her grief. She cries! Really, really, cries! It was refreshing and made the audience empathetic with her plight.
3. Revenge…ah, sweet revenge. I used to be a pretty vengeful chick, myself. In my younger years, I probably would have embarked on a similiar mission, only instead of a sword and a kung-fu grip I would have armed myself with my cunning wit and a martini splashed in somebody’s face. Revenge is at it’s finest in this film. Even the victims agree with Bea: They deserve to die.
4. The clothes, Uma’s cowboy boots, the awesome details of that shitty trailor.
5. That chick from Splash, holy cow, I hope I look that good at…whatever age she’s at…40?
To sum up, I have to admit I like Vol. 2 better simply because I could watch most of it without holding my hands over my eyes. Ask Johnny, (or Josh), even during Vol. 2 I was peeking through my fingers, whispering: “Is it done yet? Can I look now?” I don’t do well with gun-play…I hate when characters wave around guns and talk about what they want to do, (hence my dislike for Pulp Fiction). I’ve always had a theory I was once shot in a former life, because I have a deep-rooted fear of guns.

Josh brought this home from Vegas. Of course I had to antagonize my cat with it.

It is unusual to have more than an hour of rain at any given time in Fort Collins. That’s why this rainy day has been FANTASTIC! It harks back to my Northwest days of endless rain–which I miss! Yesterday was my “long day” of the week. Tuesdays involve working at the store 11-3, then teaching (where I am required to be tireless, relentless, patient, and focused) small children how to dance for two hours, and then, yes, even teachers must be taught…I indulge in a modern dance class for myself. At 8:30pm I am tuckered out, and yet I hung out with my small crew of “dancer” friends until 10:30. Afterwards, Josh and I took a walk while the storm drifted and faded above us. When we awoke this morning it was raining and dark…and it looks like it will continue until tommorrow.
But enough about the weather…it’s been great to read posts from various people…makes me feel connected in this big world. When I first moved to FC I became a letter-writing madman, be it email or snail mail, I wrote to every long lost friend I had. It hasn’t been easy meeting people here; A lot of people are very: “RRAAAR! I’m going to climb a mountain with my SUV strapped on my back, wearing my favorite polar fleece, accompanied by one of my many retrievers, where I’ll smoke endless joints, and talk about the Open Spaces act…but I’ll still vote Republican, (go figure).” Johnny commented on the backward politics in this state–which I won’t go into–but let me tell you, I was lonely when I first moved here!

Note the halo of light coming out of Josh’s head.