Thursday night was Just Cause Oakland's 10th Anniversary Celebration. It was well attended (more than 600 people), I received an award, and shared a stage and shook hands with Reverend Jesse Jackson, who came and spoke for a few minutes as part of the Rainbow Push Coalition's anti-foreclosure campaign tour.
Last night's Hubba Hubba Revue: Post-Apocalypse was easily the best show we've ever done, fitting for our third anniversary show. From Maggie and Meka La Creme's amazing choreography, to Honey Lawless and Gigi D' Flower as cockroaches doing the hustle (and whittles, also dressed as a cockroach, singing Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive" while the ladies danced and ate Twinkies), to Alotta Boutté singing "We Don't Need Another Hero" while four of us improved behind her.... It was a great night. I'm so, so proud of everyone. And mc_kingfish: we love you and Eddie.
And apparently, I've decided that the best thing for me every Saturday morning (including the Saturdays after staying out late and drinking and dancing at Hubba) is to go train at 9 a.m. for two hours. I'm so pleased with my kajukenbo training, I can't even tell you. The muscle memory is insane. I know how to do things I forgot I knew how to do, which is stunning since it's been 20 years since I trained. Sifu is determined to get me out of this white belt ("I don't want it messing with your head") and back into my purple belt soon.
And of course, other things are going well, too. Work is good--I really like the people on my team. It's busy and disorganized and nothing's documented and everything keeps changing, but I have to admit I like that pace. I like solving problems, figuring out all the pieces of things. When I walked in yesterday and found an inbox full of emails from the program manager assigning me several projects, I changed my IM status to "It was on fire when I got here," much to his amusement.
I've been packing and trying to clean my place. I can't wait to move, though I'm so going to miss my neighbors. I had a long chat with Monte this morning when I got back from class. He's happy for me, glad that things are working out after such a long period of everything feeling so broken. And, honestly, so am I.
We lay in my bed staring
at the glow-in-the-dark stars
that conspire above us on the ceiling.
"I've moved my bed three times since I got here,"
I say, "but I didn't notice the stars
until I moved it over here. I'll miss them."
"We can have stars on the ceiling
of our new apartment," you say.
And I know all is right in our universe.