Dancing barefoot in a bar that once was a mechanics garage makes for dirty feet. I performed three times on the last rainy Saturday night and garnered adoration and undying love from at least one unknown man, who told Jesi, who found me in the dressing room and said, "He told me I was great, but that there are women he's seen before you danced, and now every other woman he sees will be after you." Miss Maggie piped up, "She's taken!" So Miss Lucy said, "Hey, I'm NOT taken, and you tell him I'm available!"

I danced well solo, I know it, and that comes from happiness and confidence at a job well done. It was fun and I felt completely comfortable with the halfway-to-tipsy crowd. It helped that S was at a table up front, with JJ and Tebone and my aunt, and R was seated with her group at a table across the aisle. I had lots of smiles.

Jesi & R & I dropped jaws with our trio choreography and the heavy rain that had been falling all day turned into snow.

I was only worried about the group choreography, because with more people dancing there is always the increased possible problems. Three years ago in my first big group choreography I got caught up on another girl's coin belt during a big swinging turn and my momentum nearly knocked her off her feet. We have all improved since then. We made it through the group choreo and also the bel anat, the joined pinkie fingers with our finger cymbals still going and then the group bow, and that's all folks.

With her long-distance boyfriend D, and her ex-boyfriend, and her good friend who wants to be her boyfriend, R was surrounded with testosterone and big toothed smiles and came to me later for a hug because she felt funky and was sick of the male attention. Her current beau, with whom she escapes every weekend possible to the San Juan Islands, is a long tall Texan with big steel nerd glasses and a scar down the side of his face, sort of like Indiana Jones meets Opie Cunningham. He's sweet and likes her as much as she likes him, which is necessary.

We stayed for the real Saturday night show, with the live band and the paid dancers. We ate garlic bread and pizza and drank wine and we all talked to Dancing Old Man who showed me his toothless mouth and admonished me about soft drinks, and stroked his long white beard and explained how knees work. He offered to put glitter on me and JJ and Tebone had already let him sparkle them but I declined. He's one of downtown's permanent fixtures.


We said a good goodbye to everyone and got home after midnight.


The following morning we heard on the radio about Saddam Hussein's capture, and shrugged, expostulated, speculated, and randomated before we headed out the door to met R & D and JJ & Tebone for breakfast and then a rendez-vous at a nearby mountain.

Half the hill was covered in snow, the woods were hushed and still and pretty in the clear cold light, and we even had sunshine for half our hike. The river curls around the base of the mountain, and with the rain and snow it was swollen and muddy, pale churning brown and fallen trees from the mountains to the east.

The trail climbed as it cut across the face of the slope, through the tall dead grass and the new green shoots recently blackened by the cold. Brambles stood bare, wild roses and blackberries looped in half coils of defensive barbed design. We crossed rills cascading down the hillside, cold fresh water burbling and eroding the rocky surface, leeching the color from the mud. We wended our way into the thick woods where the trail cuts back hard against the slope, twisting its way up and up. A downed tree on the path forced a scramble onto the snowy face, icy grass beneath and mud beneath that made for uncertain footing through a brambly thicket.

When we emerged from the woods it was a straight shot to the top, hard and steep, the part S calls the Heathcliff trail, just the wind and a long sliding fall down the bare face of the mountian. Parched grass poked its head above the thin surface of snow which got deeper and slushier as we climbed, and a glance behind us showed a weather front moving our direction.

Everyone was beautiful in the snow, red cheeks and noses, bright plumes of breath, ice crystals on eyelashes and dewdrops on hair. At one point JJ turned and looked down the path at me and this is how steep the path was: I was five feet from her and her shoes were level with my hat. She with her stunning dark hair and eyes and porcelain features chilled from the snow took away my breath and we grinned at each other in the cold.

I felt the wind push me, and was thankful for my oil-slicker coat and my wool pants, and I was thankful the wind was behind me aiding my progress. At some point I realized it was neither snow nor rain nor hail, and I think if those three are eliminated then what remains is sleet. We peaked the top as the clouds opened their icy embrace, and since the snow was so thick in the bald saddle of the hill, we decided to take a cue from the weather and had a snowball fight.

I got R in the legs and D got me full in the face, as soon as he let go he yelled "OH! SORRY!" My mouth was open and half of the snowball hit the side of my face, half went in my mouth, and I joked about being thirsty anyway and laughed it off but it sure did sting. S pegged D full in the chest and said he grunted, and every snowball I threw at Tebone he caught and threw back at me. JJ didn't want to participate, and I think it's because she knew she would destroy us all. R aimed at my ass so I hip-checked it and felt quite tricksy. The sleet thickened so we headed for the trail down the mountain, a different and faster and much more travelled way than we had ascended.

We hugged and said goodbyes at the base of the trail, drove home, and S & I took a two hour nap and ate leftovers for dinner.

I took yesterday off work to run errands (including the purchase of a new corkscrew) and wash laundry and clean my home, and now I have a two foot tall pile of paper to process, oh the joyful aftermath of a vacation day. I'm also wondering if instant maple and brown sugar oatmeal is different in any way from pre-popped caramel popcorn, and if so, how?

I had a wonderful weekend.