I somehow drank a lot of chinese loose-leaf green tea today. By "a lot", I really mean A LOT - close to a litre or more. I didn't stop there. I went ahead and ate all the leaves as well because they tasted pretty good at that time - a flavour-packed cross between kale, spinach and mesclun. Their total packed volume equaled around 8 ounces (half my generous tea mug).

I shouldn't have.

Now my teeth feel as if they are about to fall out. It's not a dream. They really feel like they are doing one of those synchronized-in-a-row rockette kicks and getting ready to pop out, any moment now. It's not painful but it's such a peculiar floaty feeling - localized to the gums.

I am now wondering what chemical in those leaves has produced such a potent alteration of perception. I am just a bit curious if anyone else has had such an experience. But then, maybe I am being too optimistic about there being people out there who have actually downed a liter of green tea and eaten all the leaves after that.

I just hope they don't really fall out. I can't deal with being toothless tomorrow.

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On a side note, searching for "teeth falling out" on google images brings up a video-chat still of (e:paul) and (e:lilho) labeled "lilhowithbandwidthleprosy1090". 6th row from the top:

I posted the live salsa version of this earlier but I couldn't bear to listen to Chemaney going off-tune and murdering the Ricardo Montaner melody. It may have been great in his album but his live version annoyed the hell out of me. And the flamenco dancer was creepy and his jeans were ridiculous.

So here is the much-loved original.


Since I criticized Chemaney's ludicrous jeans, I feel it's unfair of me if I don't even comment on that beach-shot cover of Montaner's album. That has got to be the fake-est beach-shot ever, don't you think? He is sitting IN the water but his trousers are completely dry with the waves splashing all around him. What did they take Montaner's listeners for? Blind?

I developed a crazy craving for papayas over the past couple weeks and luckily found that they sell fabulous Caribbean Reds from Belize at Pricerite for $1.29/lb.



I couldn't resist and grabbed three big ones off the display and dragged them back to my lair yesterday evening. As a result, I am now sitting here with Bengay for some miserably strained deltoid muscles and a particularly awesome salad of cubed papaya with a lime juice and black pepper garnish.

I say, fair trade.

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PS: I am SO glad pricerite came to roost downtown. You can't imagine how inconvenient it was to take a bus all the way to Wegmans for things I couldn't get at Guercio's and then wait in the cold for the bus back. I remember walking back with my cart (because there was no bus for nearly 40 minutes) a couple times, Both times, I had 2 gallons of milk spoil on me the next day because of the 80 minute-break in refrigeration. Also, I don't like the price-mark-up at Weggers. It may be fancy looking and all spiffy but I don't think it's good practice to increase prices of produce and keep prices of sugary stuff and baked-goods low because it encourages poor eating habits in the population.

I skipped yoga as well as salsa this past week because of grad-school worries. And an alarming proportion of my hair is edging towards white. I have concentric worry lines under my eyes and I think I am slowly losing my mind whatever meagre muscle I have on my body. But then, when did I ever let something like that stop me from making wild resolutions? Never. So in February, I will

• Do a whole lot more of statistics with R Fridays and Saturdays

It helps that I actually like R as opposed to hating SAS.

• Salsa Salsa Salsa Thursdays

I am dropping out of the intermediate class. I am not good enough for all the complicated patterns and frustrate myself in the process. And something about that class edges me out of happy mode. Could be one of the leads or a combination of things... I don't want this minor detail derailing my fascination with salsa music and dance. The beginner's sessions with Sean and Sarah, on the other hand, are pure magic and I feel like a sufi saint in them...

• Yoga and Hip Hop Wednesdays

Erin at Hand to Heart (Bryant & Elmwood) is a really amazing guide. I might add the Wednesday evening Hip-Hop yoga to my vinyasa sessions. Who knows, someday you might see me suddenly twisting into this pose:


I guess that leaves the first three days of the week for having massive freak-outs about graduating. Fair enough.

So I had this interesting argument about the functions of a food processor vs. a Blender vs. a Stick/Wand Blender and a knife today afternoon with a couple department-mates.

Do you think a food processor can completely replace a blender, stick/wand blender AND a knife? Really? When I think of food processor, I think of mushed up poorly cut vegetables. How many of you have ALL the above in your kitchen? I have everything except a food processor. I get immense pleasure in chopping stuff down to cookable units with a variety of knives. Should I be lusting after a food processor? Can a food processor knead bread or cookie dough? What can a food processor do that a combination of the other three can't? If you were setting up your minimalist kitchen, would you choose a food processor over the other three?

Things have not been going smoothly of late. Too many failures, too much uncertainty, too many iffy outcomes, too many hashed presentations, too many negative vibes, too little inspiration, drained out ideas... I really want this phase to end and a better phase to roll around. All of this is wrecking havoc on my sleep. I used to sleep at least 3 hours at a stretch. Now I get up every 1.5 hours with random nightmares and stretches of worry about whether I will ever graduate and whether my dissertation will ever reach completion.



I somehow need to claw back into focus, re-prioritize everything and fast-track somehow. Just not sure how to successfully spin into that resolve. I guess the new salsa shoes aren't really of much help here...

I came home to these strangely attractive eccentric-looking extremely light shoes today. Their passing resemblance to football shoes is deceptive. Instead of the turf-gripping evil field spikes, the soles of this pair of Gabellini "The Fly" are layered with salsa-smooth suede instead.


They fit me like a glove. I am seriously floored. The floor feels like an alternative padded universe through every inch of their suede soles. Balancing on the balls of my feet feels very natural and my turns feel almost effortless compared with every other shoe I have ever worn or tried out... But I guess their real test will be in class. Can't wait to try them out! Come and see them in some salsa action at Lexington & Ashland, 7 PM Thursdays with Sarah Hooper & Sean Ortiz! :-)

this was how you reacted to a not-phone.

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PS: I finally figured out the folder structure. :-)

I hired these lazy blokes to come and sing at your doorstep, but they didn't want to come out in the snow. They sent you a representative performance instead.

:)

How exactly do I transform from this...


to this...


I currently have ZERO skills at isolating body-sections and then moving them in staggered-cohesion. Add to that stick-like everything and you have a winning insect combination.

The Salsa diary for this week reads:

10. I finally realized that I like dancing the salsa because I am fascinated by the music, its variations and the whole culture surrounding the music and the dance that has evolved with this music. It is to me, a study of an unspoken yet a well-enunciated language and its often-surprising dialects.

9. Took a couple on-2 classes in NYC and fell in love with the variation. I am just as terrible at dancing on-2 as I am at dancing on-1. But somehow, I could relate to the music much better with the on-2 style compared with the on-1 style. But alas, no one teaches the on-2 style in Buffalo.

8. I am not very thrilled about wrestling everyone else (apart from Sean, Sarah and those rare beginner leads who don't have a very large height differential) in class. And because I am so horrible at following people, I am seriously considering practicing just the solo shines and ignoring the fact that it is a partnered dance. After all, I make my own damn rules for anything I like so much.

7. Just look at what kind of awesomeness you can achieve with solo salsa:

Fine! That's the super-goddess of on-2 salsa. Probably imbibed on-2 skills in-utero.

6. Something is holding me back from hip-hop classes. It's not a concrete something but it's definitely some non-concrete vague thing that I haven't figured out yet.

5. I took a structured approach to yogasanas over the weekend and earlier this week and found that my balancing powers are very asymmetric. No wonder I am always stumbling on my quick moves and spins.

4. My made-for-salsa shoes arrive Tuesday. No heels. All suede. I am thrilled beyond words. I don't think ANY pair of shoes have ever generated such anticipation... well maybe those spongy slippers in 2nd grade decades ago, but nothing after that. I spent a couple hours at Capezio's flagship store on Broadway, prancing about in every single "latina" heels they had. They made me dread spins, and I can't take that kind of dread for something I really like.

3. I wish I lived in NYC.

2. I wish I lived in NYC.

1. I wish I lived in NYC.

You can go ahead and hate me for the 1-2-3 now but I can't help it.