(not) to do today

I'm sick.  With a cold.  I coughed on the sidewalk today and then cracked up laughing at myself, because when I cough I become a sad and pathetic being, and everyone looked at me like I was insane.  I've been coughing, laughing, coughing, sneezing, laughing all day.  I tried to put on make-up to go outside (at 3pm, to meet a professor) - I sneezed, my eyes started to water, and then I started laughing.  Repeat 4 times.  Qu'y faire??


As you can see, my "to do" list is pretty ambitious for someone in my state.  Take notes on the psychology of volcanoes (I have to psychoanalyze a volcano, like volcanoes were people, within 10 days, and make it seem like I know what I'm talking about - a note about this, I designed this project, yea, I got myself into this mess), learn the Coptic language, don't spill coffee everywhere (which I DID - EVERYWHERE, in the middle of a café, on my jeans, my face, my food, the table, my sweater), and update tango blog.  On something, yet again, that has nothing to do with tango.  Please bear with me.  Buy some tango shoes (nueva epoca, the ad on this blog below twitter, actually has AMAZING tango shoes), keep yourself occupied, and keep dancing!

j.a. 

is it true?

...  Is it true that there is a human being attached to these shoes?

...  Do you ever wonder...?

j.a.

miracle tango shoes found at local shoe store

After my bad milonga night, after being rescued by Egyptians at Starbucks, I woke up the next day to get my haircut.  I refuse despair at all times (at most times), even if it means doing something stupid like getting your haircut exactly 3.8 weeks after your last haircut.  


The miracle happened afterwards, when I was walking down the street running my hands through my salon styled hair, black scarf and big grey sweater making me confident à la 60s french film star (which I still have to consciously convince myself that I am NOT) and I decided to stop into a shoe store.  I thought, with a sigh, that maybe it's time for me to look for a practica shoe.  I started looking for flexible little flat sneakers that I could stand to wear on a dance floor.


I found these instead.

Gaga, oh la la...

j.a.

take care of your tango toes

I have great shoes.  They have wonderful support and feel light and lovely.  


That doesn't mean, however, that I don't develop blisters on my feet, and especially calluses on the inside part of my big toe.  At this point these calluses are unavoidable, because I dance all the time with my feet turned out and it's only natural that most of the resistance develops on the inside parts of the toes.  But it's gotten to the point where my toes are so sore that the pain keeps me from turning my feet out as much as I should.  Now this is a problem.


Apparently the best thing to do to these rotten calluses is use a pumice stone and DESTROY THEM.  And also to wrap your toes when you aren't dancing.  For the ballerinas out there (merkel) this is old news, but tomorrow I will give my feet the royal treatment with a long shower, pumice attack (!!), wrapping, and a nice, cushy (but stylish, mind you, who do you think I am?) shoe.

Just dance, gonna be ok... (I love this record baby).

j.a.

finally, my shoes, and a strike out

Finally, elhamdulillah (!) my tango shoes were made!  Yes, custom made, custom fit tango shoes from Cairo, Egypt. 

Oooh, they fit so well, and look so good!  But honestly, it's just so nice to dance without feeling like I'm going to fall over.  My other shoes just weren't cutting it --- the bottoms had been worn down and the straps stretched to the point of no return and my foot was never stable.

I struck out on the milonga tonight.  I confused the days and the venues from the Portland Tango website and some recommendations I got, and I ended up walking in on a ballroom tango lesson.  When the woman asked, "Are you here for advanced ballroom group tango?" I could not hide my disgust.  Ok, it was a comical kind of disgust, but it prompted her to say: "Yes, this is definitely not Argentine Tango if you're looking for a milonga..."  I hate feeling like a tourist!  Instead I ended up going to a few art galleries and having a hot chocolate.  I suppose bread and chocolate are the only suitable alternatives to tango...

p.s. it was new year's. no resolutions. not one. you?

j.a.

best friends

Shoes are always there for you when your life is falling apart.

Friends, lovers, and music can fail you.  Wine can pitch disastrous backlashes, like a gypsy curse.  Chocolate can be anti-climactic, not rich enough or gone too soon...  But shoes?  They never talk back to you, they never tell you that you're over-reacting, they don't give you headaches or make you recount your life story to yourself in the mirror at 3am, and they make you look confident, slim, and powerful.  Can you think of a better friend during crisis time???

j.a.