she'll get a hold on you believe it

this morning i was all florescent spandex and jazz shoes as i whipped my hair around and rocked bad 80's dance moves while easy lover pumped through the sound system. a-high-kick-jog-in-formation and a-synchronized-sashay later i was doing that weird butt swiper move that my dance instructor was so fond of choreographing. then i woke up. and i realized i was laying in my bed while the phil collins classic droned out of my alarm clock speakers.

you know it's going to be a good day when it starts with a flash back to 80's dance school where young children perform in dance recitals to completely inappropriate music selections. it's raining men? yeah.. i danced to that at the ripe age of 7. while a shirtless muscular guy in his late teens lifted me over his head.

then there were the "dance shows" at my house in plainville. my friend kim and i would put on the thriller album and dance in a manic manner around the kitchen. my mother would enter the room and quickly dash my dance thrash pleasure by insisting i use the moves taught to me by my perpetually leotard clad dance teacher. "i'm paying good money for you to learn how to dance. it's a waste if you just leap and jump around wildly." then i would be badgered and/or guilted into inserting a "step touch" here and a "kick-ball-change" there. it was torture.

but as i lay in my bed this morning replaying this scenario i realized that while i despised the idea of utilizing those moves in my spare dancing time as a child, they could come in quite handy as an adult. handy for a perfectly planned, yet seemingly impromptu, dance sequence while out to dinner with friends. this event will not be reminiscent of a flash mob. the hilarity of this endeavor can only be acutely felt if it is executed as a solo mission.

only the bold will likely dine with me from this point on.

foodie fascinations

let the half-started blog entries roll on out. 
i started this one three weeks ago. 
thank god for school vacations.

today there was salad for lunch. as i lowered a portion into my bento box, my tastebuds delighted at the message relayed -> from my eyes -> to my brain -> to my tongue. my buds personified: "mmmm. what a lovely combination. papaya slices and chunks of goat cheese." i practically skipped to my lunch destination ::ricketywoodenmidgetchair:: where i proceeded to dig in.

!! HOLY MENTAL MEAL UPHEAVAL !!

this salad did not conform to the preconceived notions of my tastebuds.
my senses were bamboozled! they were hoodwinked! they were duped!

the papaya was in fact...... turnip.
the goat cheese was in fact..... tiny pieces of cauliflower.

there was no way in hell i could enjoy this "winter vegetable" salad after the drool inducing imaginings of a papaya and goat cheese combination.

this is a common situation for me. when my mind locks into a taste sensation - and that taste does not meet my expectations - i hit a stalemate. utter meal combustion. then i move straight to dessert.

i am fascinated by the connection between sensory input and knowledge base.  like when you step in something squishy and your mind immediately assumes it's dog shit and you check your shoes out of habit. like when the overpowering scent of patchouli creeps up and you turn around to see what the hippie looks like and you simply find a damp pile of soil next to the sidewalk.

and i'm TOTALLY fascinated by this guy because eating one of his junk food dessert-lookin' concoctions could cause me to "be-dee-be-dee-be-dee" myself into a catatonic shock.