it's all about the self-esteem

Life is about growing, changing, trying new things. Learning doesn't stop at the classroom door. Right, right. So I'm taking a class. It's not an ordinary class; it's a dance class. I do a little homework ahead of time. Find out what to wear, a little of what to expect. Read bios about the instructors. I leave my wedding ring at home, for safety reasons. I'm thinking ahead. I'm prepared. I can do this, right?

I am not prepared. I actually arrive a bit late; honestly it really was the traffic. So the instructor has already begun when I have to sneak through the back of the class to find my own space. That in itself is a bit difficult because it seems almost everyone is stationed along the back wall. Right where I want to be. Where no one can see how badly I dance. But the purpose of taking a class is to become better at something, to acheive or master a skill in the process of learning. Boy, do I need help in here.

The lights are dimmed. Lenny Kravitz's cover of "American Woman" pulses through the room. I feel so out of place. I also feel like the oldest woman in the room. Someone who shouldn't be there, even though the dance company touts that this class is for all women of all ages and all shapes. I see my friend across the room and giggle nervously at her as she follows the instructions from the teacher.

"That's right ladies, play a little now and stand up nice and slow. The only way to stand up in this class is with your feet apart and your tushie in the air. Show 'em what you've got. Trace yourself out here and play with your hair a little. Show 'em your moneymaker. Sexy strut around your pole. Now let's have a smack and I want to hear it, ladies. Nice. We're going to do some stretches now to warm up and then well start learning some spins. Everyone stand on the right side, get a good grip on your pole and lean out. Let gravity do the work; you should feel the pull all along your ribcage..."

That's right, I said pole. I went to pole dancing class. It was a unique experience and a killer workout. I have a new and profound respect for the women who do this kind of work 8-12 hours a day. They certainly do earn their money. For 24 hours afterwards, I am in excruciating pain from the muscle strain of learning the proper way to jump, as well as the Catch Spin, Fireman Spin, Pike Spin, and a "Showcase." I have several bruises and contact burns on my ankles and shins from spinning improperly. But I've got that Fireman Spin down pat! I was doing all this barefoot. Some of my more experienced classmates were taking their instruction wearing six-inch platform heels or those huge black patent leather boots. Talk about coordination!

The thing I would like to change about this experience is that I would like to actually be able to dance afterwards. You know, hold a rhythm and feel confident about my *ahem* moves. I have to say, I will most likely go back. Next time I'll wear something a little more form fitting so I don't look as frumpy. My abs are feeling better and the pain in my arms is getting less noticable. I haven't taken Tylenol all day today! I just hope I can find a class going on while the kids are in school.

so sad

I have taken to studying outside on my front porch. It is wide, airy and relatively quiet. And I can keep an eye on the neighborhood, Nosy Nancy that I am. While reading the days of the week aloud in Arabic this beautiful afternoon, a woman came into my front yard to speak to me. She was concerned about a man who had approached her young daughter on this very street and wanted to know if I knew who it might be so she could check it out.

This had apparently happened during the 5 minutes it took me to make a cup of coffee and come back outside. An older gentleman had been standing in his front yard and asked this girl to come into his house to listen to his machine for him. She apologized and refused, then headed straight home. What a level-headed girl. That mother should be proud. After hearing this chain of events, I knew exactly who it was and I was immediately saddened, knowing that the old man meant no harm and most likely did need help. I reassured the mother that I would check it out for her and get back to her.

The 80+ year old man who lives two doors down is one of the sweetest old men alive. His wife was taken to the hospital two, maybe three days ago. I was curious if he was stopping passers-by for conversation because he was lonely or if he genuinely needed help. So I got neighborly and paid him a visit. He is very hard of hearing, so when he didn't answer the front door, I walked around to the back. He was sitting on his porch, watching the birds in the back yard, as I often see him doing this time of day. I asked him if there was anything he needed and he jumped up (as well as an 80 year-old man can) and grinned at me, leading me into his sunroom.

"Why yes! How? How did you know that I was needing your help? Thank you so very much for coming down here. I can't hear my message machine." He tapped his gnarled old finger on a yellow tablet of paper and said, "Could you please write down that message? I missed the call and I can't hardly hear anymore and my wife is in the hospital and can't do my hearing for me."

It wasn't the call he was waiting for, but he was glad to get the message nonetheless. It was from someone else calling to check in on him.

They will be moving soon. They just sold their house to move to a care facility close to one of their sons' families. As many times as I've seen an ambulance parked out there, I am glad they will be under close watch soon.

In today's world, it stinks that an old man must sit alone and wait for someone to guess he needs help because there aren't any real "neighbors" anymore. It stinks that when he does venture out to seek help, he is immediately suspicioned of harming children. It stinks that I hadn't thought to go check on him before now. In my neighborhood, where the young families are slowly moving in as the older couples move out to care facilities, we ought to take it upon ourselves to check on our elders. After all, it's only neighborly.

midnight blue

the shadow passes black across my face again
the melancholy rises from within.
don't i have anything someone else wants?
with all this in my hands, i sit here by myself.
i'd hoped to find someone here to meet me
a stranger looking to be friends;
a friend with laughter or passion on their lips;
and here i am with hot tears on my cheeks

alone.

again.

you can't fake pound cake

Strawberry Pound Cake

4 large eggs, room temperature, slightly beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 1/ 2cups unbleached flour
3/4 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened (NOT margarine)
1 1/4 cups white sugar

1. Preheat oven to 325*. Coat the inside of a 9x5-inch loaf pan with shortening and dust it with flour, knocking out excess flour.
2. Combine eggs and vanilla in a small bowl and lightly beat. Combine flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium mixing bowl.
3. Combine butter and 1 1/4 C sugar in a large mixing bowl and cream with electric mixture on medium-high speed until fluffy, about three minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl once or twice.
4. Add the egg mixture and combine thoroughly, scraping the sides of the bowl.
5. Turn the mixer to low and add the flour mixture 1/2 cup at a time, scraping the flour down after each addition. After the last addition, beat on medium speed for 30 seconds.
6. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth the top with a rubber spatula. Bake the cake until it is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Let the cake cool in the pan for about 5 minute, invert it onto a wire rack, then turn right-side up to cool completely.

This pound cake will keep at room temperature (wrapped in plastic) for up to 3 days or refrigerated up to one week.

Strawberry Sauce

6 cups strawberries, hulled and quartered
1/4 cup white sugar

1. Combine the strawberries and sugar (more or less to taste, depending on how tart the berries are)
2. Let the mixture stand for about 15 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the sugar dissolves.

Slice the cake into thick slices (you should get 10 slices from the loaf). Spoon the strawberry sauce atop and heap with whipped cream.

Pound Cake Secrets:

* You can use other summer fruit available: blueberries, raspberries, peeled and thinly sliced peaches, plums, apricots or even mangoes instead of strawberries.
* Room temperature eggs blend better and result in fluffier baked goods.
* Butter makes a better pound cake than margarine.
* The pound cake will be richer if you add the ingredients in little portions and blend them thoroughly.
* The top will be a better shape if you flatten the batter before baking.
* If you don't have a cooling rack, take one of the racks out of your oven before you heat it up to help the air circulate around the cake as it cools.
* Do not wrap the cake too tightly in plastic or seal the lid completely on a plastic container or it will "sweat" and get soggy.