Salsa!

I am taking a salsa class this semester, the final push in my campaign to finish up my P.E. requirements for Biola.
As I browsed the P.E. options, all I knew was that I didn't want to take swing dancing. I know, I know, a lot of people love swing dancing. I myself have even been to a swing dancing club.
And I have to say, while there are lots of marvelous guys who swing dance, men just don't look manly while busting out the Charleston and grinning ear to ear.
Which is why I picked salsa. I mean, look:

Happy swing dance guy with swing dance girl

Smoldering attractive salsa guy with smoldering salsa girl

However, when I got to my first salsa lesson, I was a little hesitant. The teacher began by throwing out such alarming phrases as "it is necessary to dance pelvic to pelvic," and "this is the most sensual of all dances." I'm all for physical contact and look upon PDA with a "aren't they cute" smile. But this was disconcerting.
"Girls, against the wall!" The teacher commanded. "Men, pick a girl to dance with." I wanted to ask her if we could have, oh I don't know, introductions first before I was forced to go "pelvic to pelvic" with someone. Or if, perhaps, she could talk me through the internal distress I was experiencing.
But this was momentarily swept aside because two guys both headed to me at once (only because girls in the age bracket of 18-25 were scarce), causing an awkward "who gets her" issue.
I ended up with the taller, broader guy (I think it was the whole Alpha male thing-the shorter one conceded to the taller one).
And off we went, body to body, reaching, in one night, what had taken me and my boyfriend a whole month to get to.
As we attempted to salsa, it became apparent that the guy was having trouble leading. No problem. I just led. Which was a mistake because the teacher zoned in on us and walked beside us, yelling above the music,
"NO, NO, YOU must take HER! TAKE her! TAKE her!" Which made my partner even more hesitant. I can understand why. After all, we were just dancing, not about to have sex.
But the teacher was determined and, after stopping the music, gathered everyone around me and Nick.
"This is a typical problem." she said. "The man must take the woman. The woman must surrender to the man, physically and emotionally." Then, turning to me, she asked, "how do you feel when you surrender?"
"Uh...like I don't have to do anything?" That seemed like a generic, safe answer to a fairly charged question.
"And, Nick, how do you feel when someone surrenders to you?" This was beginning to feel like couples therapy.
"Um....um....in control?" Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of his face.
"That," she cried, "is the salsa! Now, DANCE!"
And off we went again, her voice still rising above the music:
"SURRENDER, SURRENDER!"
-Autumn

The Demise of Gus

"Well it's going to be a total loss."
Total loss? My little grey car didn't like a total loss. Sure he was definitely limping, but he looked reparable.
"Yes, all you have to do is sign the papers. You have to let us know if you want to keep it for scrap value."

I walked back over to my car who had been hit as I tried to parallel park. He was my first car. The pink slip was in my name and I knew how he worked and grumbled and got me where I needed to go. When I got him, the owner, a woman in her late twenties, had fondly handed me the keys telling me, "I had a wonderful time in this car. I hope the same for you." He had been her first car as well, and I felt like she was bestowing on me a harbinger of good times. Ironically, the first few weeks after Gus's arrival (I christened him Gus, because of his large tail end... think Cinderella) ended up being some of the most difficult in my life. And yet retrospectively, difficult is not necessarily different than good. Sometimes it is the circumstances that are difficult that provide the most good. So perhaps her words were a foreshadowing of good times only the good was not what I expected. It was much better.

But regardless, Gus was there for it, my little dependable car, with airlocks that allowed me to locate him if I misplaced him in the parking lot. Push the button on my keys and he lights up. And furthermore, he got me back and forth between work and church with complete dependability and he knew the ninety-one freeway, the Biola parking lot and the In-n-out drive through as I am sure no other car can.

Last Friday, I went and emptied him out. It was sad, but that is because I identify him with a time in my life, a good time, a hard time, a time that is time to say goodbye to.

So Farewell.

-Leilani

Pictures from Europe

The Spires of Oxford

Outside the Bodleian

Our hotel in Spain

A little Chi-Town flavor

St. Jerome's in Spain

Not sure what that expression was about

Michelle, tan from the Canary Islands

The pizza in Spain was served with forks and knives. And, yes, the pizza is con huevos (with eggs!)

Self Photography: On the metro

Why I like 'Silk'

One of my favorite movies is 'Silk.'
It is shot against an innocent landscape of provincial France. The lush, golden tones betray the dark central theme of the movie: a husband has an affair.
The mistress is a Japanese woman (I'm probably even more drawn to the story due to my shared heritage with THE OTHER WOMAN) he meets on a voyage to secure silk worms for his village. Though he loves his wife, he is inextricably drawn to this geisha, and is knitted emotionally to her for the rest of his life. To make matters worse, the wife (played by Keira Knightly-LOVE HER EYEBROWS) unquestioningly loves her tortured husband with silent devotion. Yeah. You really feel bad for her.
Japan and France seem to be juxtaposed. Japan is wild, untamed and unpredictable. France is controlled, beautiful, elegant. In a way, the countries seem to be the two women in the husband's life. The geisha is mysterious, elusive, and alluring. His wife, schooled in etiquette and domestics, is gorgeous and contained.
There is a snapshot of the geisha that the husband has in his mind, an image he returns to even as he walks along the cobbled streets of France, millions of miles from Japan. It is of the geisha in a river, resting her hand delicately on the surface of the water. The image is enticingly exotic.
The most poignant part of the movie is built off of this image. The husband is lying in bed in France and his wife is standing by a basin of water. He is staring into the distance. And he doesn't see. He doesn't see that his wife has gently laid her hand on top of the water, expressing the same exotic, feminine beauty of geisha.
I LOVE IT. It's so sad, the missed moment-which is representative of the missed love. The wife had all the bewitchment of the mistress. But the husband didn't see what was right before him. It reminds me of life, how we can pursue things relentlessly without seeing that what is most valuable and most fulfilling may be something we already possesses.
SPOILER ALERT! If you haven't seen Silk, stop reading!
What is even sadder is that at the end, after the wife has died of illness, the husband sees that image again. Only this time it is the wife in the river. He realizes he has lost all he had ever wanted.
Autumn

Europe, Part One: London

What I love about London:
-the chocolate ice cream at the theater. Surrounded by the dark wood chairs lined in gold and in front of a giant stage, you can still get a calorie fix at intermission. And you can eat it. Right there. IN THE THEATER! With the oftentimes starchy British rules and regulations, I was amazed. I mean, even in laid back So Cal you can't eat in the actual theater theater. You have to eat in the lobby. So major points to the Brits for letting you enjoy a two inch container of creamy goodness (even if it costs six bucks).
-the tube. At times it can be an assault on your olfactory senses. And at times there is a peculiar, hot wind blowing through the tunnels (I have no idea where this heat comes from...the earth's core? A breeze coming up from hell?). But, for some odd reason, I find the advertisements, liberally dispersed over the walls of the metro, to be a fascinating art exhibit and peak into the British culture. They are racier in variety than what you see here (I remember one ad in which a woman wore nothing but a few carefully placed spoons) and quite a bit more wordier (American advertisers obviously rely more on flashy pictures and key words as opposed to relying on their target market to actually read something).
-the flower shops. I'm talking old school flower shops, with beautiful blossoms bursting out of wooden crates, prices scrawled enchantingly on little chalkboards. Come to think of it, I have no idea how they had such gorgeous flowers as it was the middle of winter. Maybe they were imported.
-the busyness. People were everywhere, all the time, at all times. And I loved that.
What I didn't like (because you can't love everything):
-the faucets. One faucet for hot water. One for cold. Which created the following dilemma: do you want to wash your face in scalding hot water or water that's sub zero in temperature?
-the cold. IT WAS FREEZING! I would have to steel myself physically and emotionally every time I left the hotel. I was so cold, I probably looked like I was going through withdrawals, I was shaking that hard.
-Autumn

Europe: Part One, London

Les Miserables

When I was ten, I resolved to learn and belt out "Do you hear the People sing" whenever able. It was about freedom and right overcoming wrong-And I eagerly looked forward to my first viewing of Les Mis when it came to Los Angeles and I prioritized it when I went to London for the first time. Since then, it has become a tradition. If I am in London I watch Les Miserables. And somehow it has never bored me.

The themes fascinate me as do the nuanced interpretations in the different productions. This Fantine was dirty and desperate. She played her part like a true woman of the night. The last Fantine was playful. Her downfall was pathetic. This Marius was boyish. His loves scenes were convincing, but his sorrow elicited little response. This Val Jean was the best. He changed the intonations and made the other Val Jeans unmemorable. But regardless,who is performing; justice, mercy, freedom, humanity, redemption and love is shown.
"Do you hear the people sing lost in the valley of the night/It is the music of the people who are climbing towards the light." What is the light? It is redemption, hope. And one leaves the show convinced that love is redeeming and that men are not perfect, but grace can take a man "no worse than any man," and bring him salvation


St. Paul's Cathedral


The step's to the bell tower are narrow and twisty. The last ascent is particularly "'perilous" as one must brave an iron Victorian staircase where one sees through the rungs. Right before entering the bell tower there is a small hole to look through. Hundreds of feet below, is the Cathedral floor with little ant people and ant furniture. Your stomach collapses in and then expands back out, but when the top is reached, and the crisp air blows away the sweat of the climb, the effort is worth it. All around is London, old London, new London, the Thames, the Eye, the Globe Theater. Slowly, one walks the small circumference. One takes a couple pictures and then begins the descent down, down, where the angelic choir sings filling the whispering gallery and the main chancel.

-Leilani

My Latest Ambition

I try to keep it a secret that sometimes I miss writing papers. After all, upon graduation capped and gowned participants congratulate each other with the exultant cry of "no more papers, no more classes, no more school!" Sympathy for those who still want to write is almost non-existent. But I enjoy (most of the time) the process that is paper writing. And I miss it when I am reading a book and a interesting thesis suggests itself and begs further research.

Since graduating, I assumed that I would go back to school and study for my masters. But circumstantially and providentially the time for school did not come. Now however (trips always make me reflect), I am compelled to apply to different programs, in different places, along the lines of different passions, and pray that God leads. A change in the seasons of my life seems to be coming and I am excited to see where this God directed wind will blow me.