Saturday, March 31, 2012

Sexually, I'm silly.

1. This morning I read that "people who enjoy silliness are one third more likely to be happy." (Gretchen Rubin, The Happiness Project). I am pleased to note that Rafiki and I are on the right track.

2. Princess Dragon was lying in all the sunbeams around the house. Her fur looked soft and beautiful in the sunlight. She lay with perfect repose and was a lovely reminder to enjoy the moment wherever you are.

3. Jaja and I went to a flamenco performance this evening. They got all their students up on stage from the audience, and all danced, all clapped the rhythm, and all shouted in joy at key moments (although I have no idea what the cues were) - the energy was wonderful. The professional dancers feet were a blur when they stomped out the rhythm. The dynamic between the clapping, the flamenco guitar, and the singing was amazing. The claps were so sharp and clear and would get faster and faster while the guitarist flicked out the melody. It was also exciting because each performer brought his or her own personality to the dance - for all that it was so technical, each dancer or singer was worlds apart from the styles of the rest. Some strutted, some were seriously intent, some bounced and flicked the energy into the air off their hips or their finger tips - all had fun.
When I got home I hunted down this dance from Strictly Ballroom, because I wanted to watch more flamenco-esque dance. It's such a great scene:

5. I started reading Sexually I'm More of a Switzerland: More Personal Ads from the London Review of Books. The ads in it are delightfully bizarre. So far a few of the jewels I've come across are:

"I put the phrase 'five-header bi-sexual orgy' in this ad to increase my Google hits. Really I'm looking for someone who likes hearty soups and jigsaws of kittens. Woman, 62. Berwick. Box no. 7862."

"An ancient Czech legend says that any usurper who places the Crown of Saint Wenceslas on his head is doomed to die within a year. During World War II, Reinhard Heydrich, the Nazi governor of the puppet Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia, secretly wore the crown believing himself to be a great king. He was assassinated less that a year later by the Czech resistance. I have many more stories like this one. I will tell you them all and we will make love. Man, 47. Box no. 6889."

"I celebrated my fortieth birthday last week by cataloguing my collection of bird feeders. Next year I'm hoping for sexual intercourse. And a cake. Join my invite mailing list at box no. 6831. Man."

All these in just the introduction! I am looking forward to the rest.

No comments: