The Good, The Bad and The Mana

Yesterday I read a blog from one of my hula sisters. I don't really know her as she's in another class. I thought about her post all day, though.
The link to her post is above, but here it is cut and pasted for your viewing pleasure.

Sharing Your Mana
December 28, 2009
I love wrapping presents. Yes, partially because it’s creative, but mostly because it’s so much more. While I’m folding papers and gluing little bits of this and that to the outside, I’m imagining the recipient’s reaction upon seeing this thing that’s beautiful or striking or funny. I also love that it’s a temporary art, that it’s designed to be destroyed, that I’m creating something that will exist only between the two of us after it’s gone. The gift itself is more lasting, but the wrapping has a transient loveliness I celebrate.
I feel the same way about cooking for someone. I imagine the flavors that they like, the kind of impact I want the meal to have. I am communicating how much I care through their taste buds. It’s brief, but it matters.
In my hula class we talk a lot about “mana.” In Polynesian cultures, mana generally refers to the spirit that flows through everything. What I really like is recognizing that we transfer some of our own mana into whatever we make or do. For example, if you’re making lei (a wearable string of flowers and/or plants) for someone, thinking about that person while you’re doing it can guide your hands and transform the experience from a simple act of threading and wrapping flowers into something far more meaningful. In the same way, thinking about who I’m dancing for can change it from just another way to move my body into something with meaning. And like the gift wrapping and the food, fresh lei and dance are also transitory, moments of time suspended in emotion and memory.
We’ve all felt it – that sense that someone was really thinking about us when they did something for us or when they gave a gift that felt so perfect, that gave us the sense that they were thinking of us. Usually, we’re picking up on their positive thoughts, but I’ve also felt when someone was thinking bad or mean thoughts when choosing a gift or doing an otherwise innocuous action. This idea of giving someone your feelings through an object crosses through every culture, sometimes referred to as “spirit” or “intention” or “mana” or simply “being thoughtful."
So why do I write this post now, at the end of the big gift-giving season? It seems to me that it’s natural for many to think about this when selecting presents, but I’ve found that the transfer of mana happens so much more often than that. The act of thinking about others lasts all year, and I believe you can turn anything into a moment where you communicate how you feel about someone. Opening a door for another, smiling when you see someone, giving a cookie at lunch, writing a little note telling someone about something that made you think of them, making something with your hands, posting something online – all of these moments are ones in which we can be sharing our mana, they can all be thought of as little gifts. Your mana is endless. Give yourself the gift of sharing it.



Cianna made me think about the Christmas presents I gave and received this year. I mailed some bottles of wine to my sisters and my nephew and some gift cards to my niece. Although I'm certain I wrapped them so they would last the journey to their destinations, did I wrap them so they looked nice? Did I wrap them well enough to show that I love them? I feel a little bad that one of the gifts for my niece was a Border's card that said "happy birthday". (OK, confession time, this card should have gone out to her for her birthday last month but I forgot to send it so I put it in an envelope along with a Starbucks card. Did it show that I care?). 
I was touched by the gift from my Mother-in-law. She gave me a few sweaters and a skirt, cute, but not overly remarkable. I liked them and I wore them to Christmas dinner and to work on Monday, but what touched me was how much she stressed over whether I'd like them or not. In the week before Christmas she asked hubby at least 5 times if I'd like it. She poured herself into this gift. She shared her mana by picking out this gift. When I opened it she stood by me in anticipation hoping I'd like it.  My daughter gave me the best mana-filled gift ever. She made me a book of coupons like "queen for a day" or "I don't have to make dinner". She worked really hard on it and I love it.

On the negative side, Cianna's post made me think about all the other gifts my family and I received, which I put into mental piles of Good Mana and Bad Mana. That was probably not the best thing to do with my time, but hey, my mind wanders sometimes.

Faces in Places Dream

Last night I had a dream about the person who runs Faces in Places. Now, I've never met the Faces in Places person. I've never seen a picture of him/her. I don't even know if it's a man or a woman who runs it. Just like when I read a book, however, I put a picture together in my head of what this person must look like. In my head, the Faces in Places person is a 20-something girl, cute, super hip, really freaking smart, but because she's so cute and hip, people don't often see how smart she is. I could be totally wrong. Faces in Places person could be a 40 year old guy with a comb-over or a ben franklin haircut. He doesn't live with his mom, he and his mom are room mates. He works at the naval recruiting center and doesn't let anyone know that he likes to collect cute pictures of faces.
In my dream, the Faces in Places person didn't look like either of those people described above.

Hubby and I were hanging out at some park, but the park was paved, but that didn't seem to bother us and I only bring it up now because looking back, I think it was weird. I looked across the park and saw this guy, a just-out-of-highschool aged guy. Mixed race (black and some kind of white), dreadlocks down to his shoulders (like Whoopi but good), wearing a backwards pageboy hat. Super hip guy. He had a staff with him. He had found a really great Face in a Place. His staff was staging the scene, being careful not to disturb the Face he found in the Place so that his photo would be just perfect. I walked up to him and asked him if he was the Faces in Places guy. He said yes, and went back to work. He was really pleasant, but in the mood to take pictures and not talk to some fan.

I like the Faces in Places blog.  Here are some Faces in Places pictures I've taken. Both were taken at Armstrong Woods near Guerneville. First one is an orangutan covered in moss (or is it a seal covered in moss), the other one is a rhinoceros.

Where was I?

Where was I? Oh yeah, Things I'm not going to do and/or Things I've modified.

So I don't really feel like a quitter for not doing some of the things on my list. I still have time to replace them with other things on my list.

#17 Read The Other Boelyn Girl or whatever that book is called.
I tried this. It didn't work. I couldn't get more than 20 pages in without falling asleep. I tried to get in the mood to read it by renting the movie. That didn't work either. Turns out I rented the BBC version and it was Dull Dull Dull. The real moving has been on Encore a few times. I think it's also on OnDemand. I'm not into it. I have, however done something that I  haven't done since grade-school. I got a library card. I have been reading, just not the book I said I was going to.

#39 Finish that quilt I was making when Kitty ate 1/2 a spool of thread and had to have surgery, bad kitty.
I don't think I'm interested in making a quilt. Maybe I'll finish it one day but I'm taking it off the list, removing the pressure to get it done.

#40 March in the St. Stupid's Day parade on April 1.
It's on a Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays. It's also on Maundy Thursday. Growing up I always thought it was "Monday Thursday" and I never knew what it was. I know now it's the day that commemorates The Last Supper. I dunno. Maybe I will do it. The pictures I've seen look pretty interesting.

#47 Learn an Eddie Money song on my 'ukulele
This one is just dumb.

Since it looks like I'm cutting a few things out of my list, I welcome suggestions on replacements.

Any suggestions?

Next up -- things that I plan on doing but have to do at a certain time of year.

Get ready to cross off #12 on my list

Pencil steady, it's almost time.

Today I took the first step in accomplishing #12 on my list "participate in the 2010 Climb California event.
I registered. I not only registered, I started a team and signed up my first team member, my daughter, my Little Miss. She'll be 11 by the time the next climb comes along (Marcy 27, 2010).

Wanna join my team? We're called "Team Aloha". Everyone's welcome. All you have to do is register, sign up with Team Aloha, raise $100 and walk 52 flights of stairs, that's 1,197 stairs.

I did it last year in 27 minutes, 10 seconds. I came in 927th place. This year I'm hoping to do it in less than 25 minutes.

Totally do-able, I think. The record is something crazy like 6 minutes 32 seconds. Last year there were all kinds of people climbing from super stair climbing athletes, to kids, to firemen dressed in full gear. I read a story about a woman who was recovering from surgery; she had a lung removed. The climb took her over an hour. Her family was worried as the waited for her and sent some medics down the stairs to find her. When they found her she was fine. She told them she was taking her time, she was going to make it to the top, just making it to the top was her reward.

If you can't participate, can you donate? Little Miss and I each need to raise $100. Whatever is donated into our individual buckets can't be transferred to another person, so please, when you donate, if one of us has reached the $100 mark and the other hasn't, please donate to the one who hasn't.

Y'know, you can always donate to both of us.  

Happy Climbing!

On-Going items

Yesterday I wrote about things I accomplished on my list.
Today the topic is things that are on-going and their progress.

 #9 Put all my change into a jar until the end of this project - I haven't really been doing this, but I haven't really not been doing this. What I mean to say is that while I'm not actively putting change into a jar, I do sometimes put change I find into a jar. The rest of it doesn't get spent (well, I keep a few quarters for parking meters and for food at the petting zoo). (picture of parking meter taken by Julie Michele during my photo-shoot with her for the Iliveheresf.blogspot.com feature she did on me.)

The point is, I'm not using my change all the time. Its destiny is the change-jar, not my pocket, save for of course the few quarters I reserve for purposes listed above.

#14 update my progress on this project at least once a week on this blog - truth be told I haven't been doing this. I thought I would have something to say every week about this, but I don't so why write "this week I didn't do anything"?

#25 call or email all my friends and family on their birthdays - (Sorry Anton, your birthday was yesterday and I forgot it, I can't remember the last time I forgot it. True, I hardly ever remember the date, but I always remember it's "some time around now".) I've forgotten a few people. I'm sorry. I've been pretty good about this one, though.

#29 Compliment someone every day - I think I do this every day from telling someone their hair looks nice, to telling them something they do makes me giggle or smile. At the very least, I complement someone every day - hubby and I are going on 15 together (12.5 yrs married) at the end of December. I'll use the complementing as my fallback to complimenting because hardly anybody ever gets those two correct.

#44 put $1 in the change jar every time I bite or pick my nails so bad they bleed - I haven't been doing this, but thankfully I've been curbing my nail-biting habits. My Little Miss has the best nails. She never picks at them and they are always long and pretty (but frequently filled with crud and I have to remind her to clean out her nails - she found a toothbrush in the hall closet from the pack of toothbrushes I bought for her slumber party in case any kid forgot their brush. We got totally grossed out when we found out that Little Miss's nail brush was also doing duty as Little Mister's toothbrush. Problem solved, but ew.)


Next up - Things I'm not going to do and/or Things I've modified.

Update on My List

I've been thinking about my list lately. By sometime in mid-August 2010 I'm supposed to have a number of things done. 50.5 things, to be exact.

I've done 17 of my 50.5 things. Some items are still on-going, some I haven't even attempted, some of them I've kind of slacked off on and some, I realize now, are just fancy. I'm never going to do them.

Let's break it down ---

Today's post ---

Things I've done --
#3. At least one meal a day will comprise only raw food for one month during the week, not on weekends - This one was stupid. I did it for about 2 weeks and got bored.
#4. I will climb the coit tower stairs every day for 3 weeks excluding weekends - slam dunk.
#7. I will not cut my hair until at least october 25, 2009 - I have long stringy hair now
#8. practice hula for at least 1/2 hr every day until October 23, 2009 - that didn't happen all the time but I did listen to hawaiian music every day (she said from the 8th row at the ho'ike nui)
#10. finish the blanked I'm making for my mom - I finished it and gave it to her for Mother's Day
#11. croched a blanket for rose and Darin's baby - I did but I wasn't happy with the blanket so I never gave it to them
#13. Take Little Mister camping - on our way to Idaho over the summer we camped there and back.
#15. give hubby control of the remote, without complaint, for an entire week - done, it wasn't that bad
#22. Try dolmas again - did that and reallly really hated them
#26. Make a Cherry Pie - did that, not the best Cherry Pie ever but Hubby 1/2 of it for breakfast so it couldn't have been that bad.
#32. sell a case of melemacs - selling one case was easy.
#35. ride one of those bikes with the 4 seats down JFK on a Sunday in SF - did that on Mother's Day
#38. walk the barbary coast trail - we did this. we had a good time but we didn't do the audio tour so it was just a long walk.
#41. lay flowers on emperor norton's grave - done
#43. take Little Miss to a Festa - did that on July 3
#46. let my hair grow out long enough so I can see my natural color - done, icky color
#49. ride the Giant Dipper with Little Miss - done on July 3.

Next post about the List - On-going items.

School - Hawaiian and Wine, but not Hawaiian Wine.

Life is getting busier but that's OK. My sister J says that if you need help with getting something done ask someone who is busy because busy people know how to get stuff done.

Courtesy of my employer I'm enrolled in the WSET Level 2 Intermediate Certificate in Wines and Spirits. I'm pretty excited about it. Classes start tomorrow. A few cool things about it. #1 - work is paying for it, #2 - the classes occur during business hours so I get paid to go and #3 - it gives me more wine knowledge and opens the door up to being able to take more classes about wine. Think of it, one day I'll have an MW (master of wine) at the end of my name -- not, but the classes are still fantastic and a great opportunity and quite possibly it'll get me out of my current position at work. Not that I don't like my job, because I do, and I like my bosses a lot. They treat me well. It's just that I have more inside of me than "really-freaking-great admin". It would be nice not to be an admin.

Also, if you remember my last blog, my Kumu suggested na haumana of his class take Hawaiian language lessons. I've enrolled in the Ahapunaleo Niuolahiki language courses. I'll start with level 1 and see where it takes me. I think I'll do OK. I have always found it easy to remember words and phrases, a lot easier than remembering dance moves, that's for sure.

I'll be blogging about both. I'm excited about the prospect of writing my first blog in Hawaiian. OOH, better yet, my first blog about wine in Hawaiian - just don't make me drink Hawaiian wine, icky.

Busy Andrea.

Teachers don’t correct you unless they think there is value in it, at least that’s what I’m choosing to believe in this case.

I have referred to it before. I knew it would happen again. It happened last week. Hula just got a little bit harder. At class last week, Kumu spent most of the class going over fundamentals. Were we sinking into `aiha`a low enough? Were we placing our feet flat on the ground for hela? Did our knees pop out just the right amount, in the right direction and at the right time when we did `uwehe? Were our hips moving correctly as we practiced our `ami? And lastly, the `oniu. The move I have not mastered. I knew it wasn’t perfect, but I didn’t know it needed that much work. Kumu corrected me. (He not only corrected me, he came up behind me, put his hands on my hips and moved them to the beat of the drum in the hopes that I would catch on and be able to do it myself. I’m not pleased that I don’t do a good ‘oniu, but am confident that I will soon. I’ve been practicing and practicing.) `Oniu is such a great move. When I become the master of the `oniu my hula dancing will totally benefit.
Another thing Kumu did was talk to us about learning the Hawaiian language. He said that there is a growing wave of halaus in Hawai`i where the haumana speak Hawaiian. Kumu is going to be incorporating more and more Hawaiian into the class in instruction and in general conversation. I can see his point on this one. We recite Hawaiian words, sing songs in Hawaiian. We know words here and there, but to put it all together, to know the meaning of the phrases, and not just the meaning of certain words will definitely make us better dancers. I know I can use all the help I can get. (Speaking of help . . . .There’s a woman from the Thursday class named N. One night after practice for the show she came up to me and told me that she could tell by looking at my face how much I love hula and how hard I’m trying but there were a few simple things I could do, a few things I should be mindful of that would improve my dancing. I took her advice. After the show at the Palace of Fine Arts she came up to me and told me what I great job I did. I told her thank you and it was because it was her advice that helped me. She graciously said that it wasn’t her advice. She just handed me some tools, it was up to me to use them. Sound familiar?)
So, now that classes have once again, officially gotten a little bit harder, a little bit more involved. Our kuleana has gotten stronger. (Kuleana is the principle that one has the responsibility, the right, the obligation and the privilege to do something or take care of something. In hula, it is my kuleana to dance to the best of my ability, always try harder, go to class every week, practice, learn and respect what I’m taught.)
I wonder who will decide that this particular building block in our hula education is the straw that broke the camel’s back? I don’t want anyone to leave. I love my hula brothers and sisters. As hula gets harder and harder and more is expected of us it is going to get harder and harder so see people leave. I know it will happen. I’m just not looking forward to it. The longer we dance together the more we become one in our dancing; sort of like putting a drops of water into a glass. The droplets disappear and come together as something bigger.

You Belong in the Zoo . . . . .and the Zoo Belongs to You

Yesterday the Littles Miss and Mister and I walked to the zoo. While there we engaged in one of our favorite activities, watching the squirrels rummage through the strollers parked next to the petting zoo and then watching the owners of the strollers freak out and act surprised. There are signs telling one to hide their food. There are squirrels everywhere. How could one not know that their stroller could be invaded? We've seen squirrels eat chips, kettlecorn, suck on sippie cup spouts; I've even seen a squirrel tear apart a tampon.
Best part of going to the zoo.

Booger-head Boyfriend.

Yesterday I told Little Miss the story of my first boyfriend --

I was about 4 years old. I went to Sunday School at St. Paul's Lutheran Church in Long Beach. We went every Sunday, rain or shine until I was in the 3rd grade. Then we started going to Bethany (every sunday, rain or shine). Anyhow, when I was 4 my boyfriend was named Rocky and he was in my Sunday School class. Our teacher was named Peggy and she had big ankles and her slip was usually slipping down an inch or two below the length of her dress. Rocky had a little bit of a speech impediment and called her Piggy.

One day during Circle Time we were all standing in a circle (hence the name) and holding hands and singing "Jesus loves the little Children. All the Children of the World. Red and Yellow, Black and White, they are precious in his site. Jesus loves the little Children of the World" You know the song. Well, maybe you don't but anyways, right in the beginning of the second verse "Jesus died for all the Children . . . .", Rocky wiped his nose on my arm. I kept trying to position my arm so that he would wipe his nose on his arm but he wouldn't budge. On my arm his boogers went. That was the end of him.

I don't remember seeing him at church or sunday school very much after that. I think I avoided him. Other people's boogers are super gross.

What do Frank Zappa, Jane Goodall, Vanna White and I have in common?

I know, you think you know the answer. The Vanna White thing tipped you off. The thing that Frank Zappa, Jane Goodall, Vanna White and I have in common is that we all like(d) to crochet! FAIL! You're only half right, which also makes you half wrong. Vanna and I do share a love for crochet, but guess again my friends.  We all make good Pant Hoots? Wrong! Give up? Frank Zappa, Jane Goodall, Vanna White and I have performed on the stage at the Palace of Fine Arts. Cool, eh? OK, so I haven't actually performed yet, but I will, so there. On Saturday October 24 at 8pm and Sunday October 25 at 1pm and 6pm I will be able say that I've danced on the same stage that Tito Puente played on. That's so freaking cool! I'm very excited. My hubby and daughter, my inlaws, my friend P and a friend of his, my friend KQ and a friend of hers, and my co-worker and her sister are coming. Very cool. I can't wait to see you in the audience.

There is a bit of sadness connected to it, though.

There are a few people I really wanted to come, but they are not. I could just chalk it up to some of my friends being flaky, maybe some of them don't want to spend the $25 per ticket, maybe for some of them dance just isn't their thing, but I have to tell you, this bothers me.

I'm not alone, however. I was talking to a few of my Hula Sisters about this. One of my hula sisters said that a friend she had known since grade school isn't coming. I do as well. Another hula sister has some friends who know she dances, and they think "good for her" but aren't really interested. I have friends like that, too. We decided that our flaky friends weren't bad people, they just don't realize how much this means to us and we just need to suck it up and get over it already.

We have become so invested in this show with more practices than our families have patience for, we're spending money on costumes, making our own leis. We walk around with headphones on doing mini hula as we walk down the hallways or down the street. We hula at red lights strapped into our seats. We are constantly practicing, thinking about the show, figuring out how we're going to do our hair and makeup. Trying to remember where we are in the line-up. Our lives have been on hold and we forget that with as much as hula means to us, it doesn't mean that much to our friends who aren't a part of it. Well friends, we are inviting you to be a part of it. All you got to do is pay $25 and sit relatively still for 90 minutes, and you're done. An opportunity like this doesn't come often and we're excited about it, we want you to be a part of it.

Done lamenting.

Who would win in a fight? Buffy and the Scoobies or Sylar?

Well, of course we all would want Buffy to win but I don't think it would happen unless we were dealing with mid-series Scoobies. Willow would have to have more power than just wearing overalls and hacking into computers and she couldn't be all "I can't use magic because it makes me kooky" although she would need the skill of skinning, like when she skinned that guy who killed her girlfriend Tara. I don't know where the Werewolf boyfriend would come in. I think that Sylar would steal his ability/curse thinking that would be a cool power and it would turn out that Werewolf-Sylar would be a bad combo. Cordelia wouln't be of any help. Spike would have to be, at the very least, chaotic good. Xander would be good, expecially if the vengance demon was his girlfriend, but not after they broke up. Miles would have to have is magic store and he'd have to be there and not tucked away somewhere in England. Of course we'd need the help of Faith, too. With all of them working together, they might be able to harm Sylar and make him go away, but I don't think they'd win the war, only the battle. Eventually his werewolf abilities would be what brings him down. The next full moon he'd turn in to a werewolf and the powers he stole from Ted would kick in and he'd blow himself up.

Hubby and I like to get series of shows on netfix and watch those instead of regular TV. The first series we watched was Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I wasn't too in to it, but I promised Hubby I'd do one season. I dug it so much we watched all 7 seasons over one summer.
Right now we're watching Heroes. We are about 3 episodes into season 2. I'm enjoying it, but not as much as I enjoyed Buffy.
I had a Heroes dream last night.
I went back and forth between being the main character in the dream and being an observer of things happening. I was on a coach with a lot of people. In my dream I knew who they were, but I don't think it's any body I know in real life. We were going south on the 101. We had just passed the 380 connector to the 280. Out to our left we saw a bunch of walkers from the SGK breast cancer 3-day walk.  I cheered out the window for them. I've done a few walks in my day so I knew they liked being 'woo-hood' at. There were a lot of Warming Hut Hotties walking.

Then all of the sudden I was being chased on foot. Well, sometimes I was being chased and sometimes I was watching the chase. The person who took my place, the person who was being chased when I was an observer looked like Julia Roberts. She wasn't Julia Roberts, she just looked like her, except her hair wasn't as pretty. At one point, the Julia Roberts doppelganger got caught by the guy chasing her/me.
He threw her to the ground and then showed her a little dirt clod in the shape of a scarab.

On the belly of the scarab was an intricate carving of grape vines and in the grape vines was the symbol from Heroes cut into the block of vines kind of like a crop circle. The man asked if she/I recognized the symbol. She/I said yes. He walked away. Dream over.

mmmmm . . . . Pork.

I love me a good BLT. There's one I really love, in particular, but I  hardly ever get because it's $8 and probably really bad for me. In fact, I only get it when I'm super-PMSing or I'm having a bad week and I need a treat. This is never-ever an every day item. It's called a B.L.A.S.T. which stands for Bacon, Lettuce, Avocado, Swiss Cheese and Tomato. I like it on toasted light rye bread. The yummy sounding crunch, the way my teeth cut through the sandwich and I feel the creamy avodado, the crunchy lettuce, the juicy tomato and the little bits of grease that squeeze out of the many lawers of warm bacon. mmmmmmm.

Today on FB my friend VB posted a picture of all the McDonalds in the USA. I checked out the website the graphic came from. It was pretty interesting, interesting enough to hold my attention when I should have been working. I came across this. The Purest BLT in the World. They guy created the purest BLT in the world created a flow chart illustrating The Purest BLT in the World came to be. Check it out. The guy has a blog onehungrychef.blogspot.com. I took a look at it. Enough bacon on his blog to keep me interested, I'd say.

Just rambling today.

Tomorrow's the Big Day! One more day and I'm old.

Do you share your birthday with anyone?
I do, and I have to say I am in good company.

Bonnie Parker, you American Outlaw, you. She'd be 99 tomorrow if she were alive.

The first Dumbledore would be cutting the cake if he weren't dead.

The Lovely Julie Andrews shares a birthday with me.

Many other people share the same big day as me. From baseball we have Rod Carew and Mark McGuire.
From TV we have Tom Bosley and Christopher Titus. I once stood behind Tom Bosley at WFM. He was buying some roma tomatoes and a loaf of crusty bread.

Oh, also, let's celebrate the right to self determination by recognizing the national independence days of Tuvalu, Nigeria and the Republic of Cypress.

I betcha you didn't know that according to wikipedia, October 1 is World Vegetarian Day. A very happy day to you, vegetarians.


Now, believe it or not there are a few people that I actually know that share a bday with me. I don't know how old they are.

There's Ms. HM. I used to work with her at a bakery called Mary's that no longer exists. HM was, I think, about 16. She lived in the east bay and would take BART in every day. She was a really nice gal. I think she's still living in the east bay. 13 years later, she's got a few kids and from her FB profile looks really happy. Mary's is now a pizza place that is super yummy called Pizzetta 211. Mary's was a great bakery with the best coffee. I lived across the street from it when it was owned by a woman named Mary. She sold it to a woman named Natasha and she and her boyfriend Corey ran it. After that a woman named Karen bought it and eventually closed it. A sad era for that neighborhood, but luckily it looks like the folks who turned the space into pizzetta 211 put the light back into it that that space deserves. Good thing because before it was the pizza place it was a failed bakery, then before that it was Mary's - the Karen years, then it was Mary's the Natasha year, then Mary's the Mary era, then it was a barber shop, but it started as a church that worshipped light.

There's Ms. KG. KG is my hula sister. She has long beautiful hair. When all her gray grows in she'll have the kind of gray hair that all women envy. She's also a very beautiful hula dancer.


Finally there's Ms. SM. SM lives on an island far far away with her baby and her soon-to-be hubby. I don't know why but when we first met each other there was some bad bad vibes going on and passed back and forth between us. We let it fester and our half-hearted attempts to fix it were never successful. I always felt bad and wrong about it, even when it was happening. I found her blog one day and read it from start to finish (OK, I skimmed over some, but it's a really really long blog. she's been doing it a long time.) Reading it I started seeing what kind of person she was / is, and what a beautiful person she was / is on the inside. If I had the chance to do it over I wouldn't have let the negative atmosphere of my workplace get the better of me and I would have been nicer. She probably would have responded in kind.

Hope all of you have a great day tomorrow!

Barry and Me - a dream

Last night I had a dream that I was waiting for an elevator.
When the doors opened The First Lady, her two kids and a body guard were inside.
President Obama got on the elevator. I asked if I could get on too. The President said I could. I pushed the button for the 57th floor. The President and his family were going to the 61st. We exchanged pleasantries and then I asked him if I could take a picture of the two of us together with my blackberry. He said no because the flash would make the walls look weird and the secret service would freak out and have to kill me. I shrugged and said OK. We got to my floor and I got off.

September 29, 2008

Happy Birthday Emily Lloyd. Today is her 39th birthday. She is 2 days older than me. I liked the movie she was in called Wish You Were Here. I know she's been in a few things since 1987 but I can't think of what. The only thing that comes to mind is that during the filming of some movie she confused Rabies with Attention Deficit Disorder and was released from her contract.

Still trying to beat this stupid cold or whatever it is. Hubby and I have taken to calling the Little Mister "Patient Zero". He was the first to come down with this, now he's feeling fit as a fiddle. Little Miss has yet to get this icky cold. I hope she doesn't.To her credit, however, she is pretty easy to take care of when she's sick. Just hand her some juice and the remote and she'll hang out on the couch all day watching iCarly on on-demand.

I was excited to see that today in 480BC there was an event called "Battle of the Salamis". Not as cool as it sounds, however. I has nothing to do with cured meat products.

I got my first birthday present for turning OLD this year. It came from my mom. I got a gift card for Macys. She used to send me a check, then I had to tell her that if she didn't want me to buy groceries or pay the electric bill with her birthday present she had to get me a gift card for a specific store. Now how do I tell her I usually save up my gift cards and buy birthday and christmas presents with them. I do need a new coat, though. Maybe I'll buy a coat.

Until tomorrow.

September 28, 2009 - 3 days until I'm old.

I totally missed out on yesterday. On Saturday afternoon I started feeling scratchy. By Saturday night I was coughing, sneezing and had a big case of the "hot-colds", you know, where one extra layer makes you too freaking hot and one less layer makes you super freaking cold. That continued all day. Shame because it was such a beautiful weekend. While I was either sleeping in the bedroom or watching TV on the couch in a daze, hubby and the kiddies were in Pacifica at a sand sculpture contest, plus I missed hula at yerba buena gardens. Yesterday was a lost day. No big things to report on the 4th day before my birthday.
To celebrate 3 days until my birthday I plan on doing pretty much the same as what I did yesterday; sleep, watch TV and with I weren't a sickie.

September 26, 1970 - the cool side of the day

I think on September 26, 1970 no one had any creative juices flowing. Wikipedia, The Wall Street Journal, This Day in Canada, and random searches of stuff didn't hold anything of interest to me. Sure, it is Brian Ferry's birthday, but who, outside of those of us who grew up in the 80's really cares, except for Brian Ferry's mom, of course.

Flash forward 39 years later, 5 days until my birthday.

Hubby has a bad cold so last night I slept on the couch so that he could have all the blankets, or move over to the cool side of the bed if he got too hot. Also, who wants to sleep next to a sickie? I woke up to the sound of Little Miss and Little Mister digging through fridge looking for left over chinese food from last night. They came into the living room with potstickers in their fists and wonton soup in a coffee cup.

Yay, breakfast served.

September 25, 2009 - The best 6-days before my birthday celebration ever.

I woke up a bit late today. I don't know why. I went to bed about 9:30pm. I certainly had enough sleep. Little Miss woke up about 6am. I heard her tinker around in the kitchen. I thought she was feeding her cat or making herself some cinnamon toast. She loves cinnamon toast. She loves to make cinnamon toast without supervision because her secret ingredient is 'more sugar than thought humanly possible'. When I stumbled out of bed she came up to me, said Good Morning and then told me that coffee was ready. My Little Miss made coffee for Hubby and Me, plus she made her own lunch. It was so sweet of her. I have the best daughter ever.

then

Today my very good friend Prakash met me for lunch.
We met in 1992. He was the first friend I made who was outside mine and my roommates' circle of friends. From 1992 to 1996 we had a class together every single semester, first at City College then at SFSU. We became really great friends. We still are really great friends.
I hadn't seen him in a while so it was such a nice surprise when he called me and told me he was going to meet me for lunch today.
Today has been pretty great so far and it was a great way to celebrate 6 days before my birthday.

I can't wait to see what tonight holds. I hope it includes a big bowl of pho, a really great episode of "are you smarter than a 5th grader" and a few baskets of laundry to fold. that would be a nice relaxing night.

Don't be so smug Bono, my Mom can kick your ass, and you'll like it.

Last night I had a dream that my mom was friends with Bono. In my dream I still lived at our old house in Long Beach - all of us did, me, my 3 sisters but they weren't in the dream, they all just still lived at home, and my parents. One day, the day after Christmas, I walked into the living room only to find my mom yelling at Bono and Bono smiling. She called him 'John' with the same loving tone that Ms. Cunningham called Fonzie 'Arthur' because in my dream-life Bono's real name is John. She was yelling at him to get his feet off the coffee table and to take his jacket off and make himself at home already, what did he need, an invitation? Why did he think he was so special?.

I went into my room and called my friend EAW to tell her that Bono was over our house and if she wanted to meet him she should come over, but she had to be casual and say she was over for another reason. Come over she did, in her pajamas, and without her wig on (huh?). When she got to my house Bono was next door chopping wood with the disabled adults who lived next door to us, Matt and Carl. My dad, the disabled adults' dad and Roy from across the street were sitting in lawn chairs in front of the house. We walked over to say hi to my dad, but really to introduce EAW to Bono. Then I noticed that KH from Camp Wintaka and high school was there except although she looked like KH, she was actually my hula sister KK.
Bono was too busy chopping wood and doing chores that only regular people do so my friends never met him but they did see him and in fact believe me that Bono was at least spending his Boxing Day doing chores on Fairbrook street and getting scolded by my mom, and loving it.

September 24, 2009, "Oh baby, we don't need a piece of paper to prove our Latvian love."

One week until my birthday. Seven Days. 39 years ago today my mom was 35 weeks pregnant with me, her 4th baby. I think she was just about done with this whole "being pregnant" thing. Wow, 35 weeks preggers with the 4th kid, I'd be done, too.

What was happing in 1970 on this day? According to Wikipedia nobody important was born and nobody important died. I'm sure they are wrong, but there  you go.

There is at least one cool thing, however.
Today is the 100th birthday of the guy that created the neon lamp. If this guy weren't born, we wouldn't have neon. Well, we probably would but it wouldn't have been this guy's claim to fame.

Oh, and one thing I found interesting. In the Latvian days of yore, today was the only day of the year men proposed marriage to women. I wonder if women could propose to men the other 364 days (365 in leap year). 
I wasted some time and decided to look up some Latvian wedding traditions.
---Groomsmen "kidnap" the bride, and the groom must complete a simple task to "ransom" her back
---Writing sins on rocks, then tossing the rocks into a body of water, will allow a person to atone for their sins
The most interesting one I found was this -- To honor true love, the Latvin Couple, on their wedding day, puts flowers on the Grave of Maija. The story goes like this
“The Rose of Turaida.”

In 1601, after a battle near Turaida castle, a castle clerk found a surviving baby girl in the arms of her dead mother. (don't worry; it gets much worse.)
Maija – as the baby girl was named – was raised by the clerk and his wife as their own child.
Maija grew into the loveliest maiden imaginable, inspiring the community to dub her “the Rose of Turaida.” In spite of her great beauty and potential for many loves, there was but one man in Maija’s heart: Viktor, a young gardener living in the nearby castle of Sigulda, who returned Maija’s love wholeheartedly.
A certain Polish nobleman (by birth, not breeding) named Adam Jakubowski, disregarding Maija’s and Viktor’s love for one another, decided that he was a better match for the young beauty. Apparently, within Jakubowski’s insanely narcissistic world, coercion, cruelty and deception were acceptable elements of courtship. One August afternoon, convincing Maija that she would be rendezvousing with her beloved Viktor, Jakubowski lured her into the cool shadows of nearby Gutmanis Cave where he then shared with her his evil intentions to forcibly take her for his wife, presumably right then and there.
The clever Maija (apparently lacking all self preservation instincts) quickly convinced Jakubowski that the silk scarf in her pocket was magical, rendering its wearer immune to injury. If Jakubowski agreed to let her go, she said, the scarf would be his. As proof of the scarf’s magic, Maija offered her own precious neck. Wrapping the scarf around her throat, the young girl valiantly told Jakubowski to strike her with his sword, which (the apparently not too bright) Jakubowski did. Within an instant, in the isolation of the cold dark cave, Maija lost her life while maintaining her honor.
Unlike many legends, papers found in the archives of Sigulda castle seem to corroborate this story (with some varying details), as well as to confirm the eventual fate of Jakubowski (which involved his neck, a noose and, I’m guessing, an angry mob).
From that day forward newly married couples have left flowers on the grave of Maija: The Rose of Turaida.

On that note, 7 days until my birthday. Until tomorrow . . . . .

September 23, 1970

Eight days before I was born not a whole lot was happening.

Ani DiFranco was born.

Some French guy named Bourvil died.

It was Mickey Rooney's 50th birthday.

The Vice President was Spiro Agnew

Unemployemnt was at 3.5%

The price of gas was 10% what it is today.

Emperor Norton's Grave.

Today Hubby, The Kiddies and I stopped at the Woodlawn Memoral Park on our way to Costco. We drove around the cemetary looking for Lot H, then to find the final resting place of Emperor Joshua A. Norton I.

We all took pictures next to the headstone.

Little Mister napped during his and hubby's turn.

I smiled and hugged the tombstone

 

and, just like the 'tween she is, she read and pretended she didn't know us.

It was a nice afternoon.

Playing Fetch with Bummer and Lazarus

I think this weekend just might be the perfect weekend to accomplish #41 on The List which is "Put Flowers on Emperor Norton's Grave". 
Today, Septemeber 17 is the 150th anniversary of the day Joshua A. Norton I declared himself Emperor of the United States. A short time later he added "Protector of Mexico" to his title, but then removed it again when Maximilian of Mexico came to power stating "it is impossible to protect such an unsettled nation"

Emperor Norton was this kooky guy who moved from London to South Africa when he was about 2, then came to San Francisco when he was an adult. He had a ton of cash but then lost it all when he tried to corner the rice market and failed. Seems he bought up a bunch of rice coming from China and he was going to sell it at a huge profit, then rice started coming in from Peru, thus bringing the price of rice down and he lost all of his money. He tried to skip out on paying it, was sued and the case went all the way up to the California Supreme Court. He skipped town, only to come back a few years later. Aside from being a crooked businessman, he seemed to be just a normal guy but when he returned something about him was a bit "off". He left San Francisco a broken man with his tail between his legs and returned a self proclaimed emperor. His proclamation follows
At the peremptory request and desire of a large majority of the citizens of these United States, I, Joshua Norton, formerly of Algoa Bay, Cape of Good Hope, and now for the last 9 years and 10 months past of S. F., Cal., declare and proclaim myself Emperor of these U. S.; and in virtue of the authority thereby in me vested, do hereby order and direct the representatives of the different States of the Union to assemble in Musical Hall, of this city, on the 1st day of Feb. next, then and there to make such alterations in the existing laws of the Union as may ameliorate the evils under which the country is laboring, and thereby cause confidence to exist, both at home and abroad, in our stability and integrity


NORTON I,

Emperor of the United States.

17th September, 1859.

He drafted all sorts of other proclamations which can be read here. He abolished Congress. He fired Abraham Lincoln. He called for a bridge to be built across SF's bay (in 2004 an SF Supervisor tried to get the new span of the Bay Bridge renamed the Emperor Norton and failed), He bans the F-word (Frisco), the list goes on. He also created his own bonds stating that at a later date someone could return the bonds and be repaid at 4% interest.

He was arrested for vagrancy once after some cop with something to prove hauled him off to jail. He was released and from then on no cop ever touched him again.

Two stray dogs name Bummer and Lazaurs became loyal members of his court. It is said that they followed the Emperor everywhere. However, it is also said that the Emperor didn't care for these dogs, they were simply groupies.

The character of "the king" in The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain is based on Norton, also Robert Lewis Stevenson used Norton as an actual character in his book The Wrecker. RLS's stepdaugher Isobel Field wrote about him in her book "This Life I've Loved" "He was a gentle and kindly man, and fortunately found himself in the friendliest and most sentimental city in the world, the idea being 'let him be emperor if he wants to.' San Francisco played the game with him."

On January 8, 1880, Emperor Norton died on the corner of California Street and Grant Avenue. Depending on the source, anywhere from 10,000 to 30,000 people attended his funeral. Today he is resting comfortably at the Woodlawn Memorial Park in Colma, just 15 minutes south of San Francisco.


Yeah, #41 on Saturday.

An Open Letter to Gravis Footwear - My Orange Flip Flops and How Much I Love Them

Dear Gravis,

In 2004 I participated in the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer 3-day. It was an experience I will never forget. I joined a great team called The Warming Hut Hotties, dressed in pink, wore silly deeleebobbers on my head and walked 60 miles.
In preparation for this event I spent a lot of time and money at Sports Basement. One of the items I bought was a pair of Gravis Flip Flops. I have to admit, they weren't my first choice, but in my haste to get out of the store I grabbed a pair of flip flops and went to the register to pay for my stuff. I was surprised and mad to learned that I had spent $25 on a pair of slippas that I only planned on wearing in the shower. I kept them anyways. I'm so glad I did.

5 years later my Gravis Orange Flip Flops not only survived the communal shower trucks of the SGK-BC 3-Day, they triumphed through the 2006 Avon walk, hula class every Wednesday for the last 5 years, countless trips to the market, a 2-week trip to Hawaii (note - I bought a new pair of Tevas for this trip and didn't wear them at all) and years of enduring my relaxed style of storing my shoes in the closet or under my bed. They are still the perfect amount of squishy, have no ill effects from my pronated feet and high arches, and have never once given me blisters between my toes.

If I ever need to buy flip flops again, I will buy Gravis Flip Flops, and I won't be mad if I have to spend $30 on them.

Also, should you ever need to do consumer research on your sandals, I will certainly help you out.

You have made a fan out of me.

Wordles are fun

I created a few Wordles today.

Here's one of Patrick Swayze's bio on IMDB.com


Lost spoilers from spoilerfix.com


and, finally, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Hula at the South End Rowing Club

Last Friday a few of my hula brothers and sisters danced at the South End Rowing Club in San Francisco. It was fun, the people were nice and the chicken was good.

How You Found Me: because I'm a copy-cat

If you've learned anything from me so far, you've learned that I'm a copy cat. I steal ideas and make them my own. I don't really think it's stealing, though because I do tell you from whom I stole the idea and give you a link to the idea I've stolen. In my head it can't be called stealing, but it can be grounds for calling me a big fat copy-cat. I can deal with that. I copied the MalteseKat with her 101 things in 1001 days (except I'm doing 50.5 things in 500 days and calling it The List). I copied a story from BeerGirl's story she put on Facebook. I also followed various crochet patterns of monsters.

Hubby has a blog on Wordpress. I tried to use Wordpress but I couldn't figure it out. Funny, Hubby said wordpress was way easier to manipulate than Blogger. I say the reverse. I guess great minds don't always think alike. They just think similarly.

He used to have this little feature on his blog about how people got to his site. I always thought it was interesting.

I recently found a tool to do the very same thing.

Here are some of the things that brought you to me ----

10. 2^32 seconds in years

9. 2^32 seconds in days

8. lady sonja blag gum

7. lil miss hula tshirt

6. bazooka zooka bubblegum

5. dancing pregnant lady

4. onaona i ka hala

3. gem donuts

2. 32 seconds to minutes

and finally, the number 1 search term used when stumbling upon my blog

1. AGENT DALE COOPER

If I weren't on the South Beach Diet right now I'd go have a piece of Cherry Pie.

Crocheting

I crochet on muni to pass the time. I like to crochet little things so I can crochet into my bag and although people know what I'm doing, they're not as likely to try to talk to me about it.




Last week and this week I made 3 different Cthulhu dolls. Here's a picture of two of them riding muni.

I only have two pictured here because I gave one to my friend P last Saturday.

I got this lovely pattern from a crochet blog I follow called CthulhuCrochet.blogspot.com.

Dream

Last night I had a dream. I don't remember enough of the dream to describe it but I experienced a sensation that I have never had in a dream before.

I smelled something. As detail-filled as my dream life is, I've never noticed any scents until this dream. It's all murky but I remember being on the roof of my sister J's house (but not her house in real life, it was kinda like the barbie dream house). Some lady who lived next door was mad that we were having fun so she sprayed stinky perfume at us, then my sister yelled at her.

Neat. Dream tricks.

Cause and Effect - a hard lesson learned at Hula

Yesterday was an odd mix of stuff and I'm certainly feeling it today.

I had a pretty long day. Showed up for work about an hour earlier than usual so I could do my regular work stuff, for in place of my regular work stuff I had to set up for two little receptions happening back to back. It was pretty easy, just time consuming. During the first reception for which I was preparing my boss asked me how long I could stay. I told him I had to be at class by a particular time. Some guy from the the company we were hosting at the reception asked me what the class was. I told him hula.
Now folks, I get lots of different reactions from people when they first learn I dance hula. Most of them, though a little bit annoying aren't malicious. They just don't really understand it so they do "pretend hula" and sing Tiny Bubbles or something. Most of the time I just say "yeah, something like that" or, depending on what diplomacy calls for, or if I actually care about the person I'm talking to I take the time to explain to them what it is I try to do every week in class. I find that the longer I dance hula the fewer people I tell that I dance hula, so as time goes on, fewer and fewer people know about this passion of mine.
Anyhow, last night this tool from the company we were hosting laughed at me. He looked me in the face and laughed at me. He said "oh, that's the best thing I've heard all week. Hula dancing. that's too funny". I didn't know how to react to that. I can't say I was offended because he was just some ignorant suit that I'll never see again, but laughing at me? It was odd. He came from a company that does business with my company. He had never met me and he laughs in my face? Didn't he read any books about business manners and how you should just smile and say something fake-sincere and noncommittal like "oh, that must be very interesting"?

The second reception was fine. No problems and when I got to work today most of the clean up had already been taken care of.

I left halfway through the second reception and hauled bootie to class. Got there with enough time to grab a bumble bar, which I love and an apple before class.

Class was 3 hours long last night. There wasn't a whole lot of dancing involved. It was mostly finding out where our lines were, getting those last minute fittings for our dresses, practicing entering and exiting the stage, etc., in preparation for our show in October. I found the whole process interesting; to see a part of Kumu we don't normally get to see. We see Kumu the teacher, but we don't see Kumu the producer very often.

Last week I left class not at all happy with where I was put in the lines for a few of the dances. I'm not questioning Kumu and his judgement. I walked away unhappy with myself. I thought I was a better dancer than I guess I actually am. I know I'm not the best dancer in the class. I know I'm not "first row" material, but I thought I was at least 3rd or 4th. I would have been happy with 5th. Again, I'm not questioning his judgement. If I deserve to be in the 8th row, then that's where I go. It's his show, his school. He has standards and even though I thought I was meeting them, apparently I wasn't. (There is one dance, however, where I totally deserve to be in the last row, possibly behind a bunch of scenery. I have to get on the stick for that one)

Lesson learned. . . . . . almost.

Hula last night was another story, mostly.
I was really surprised, in a good way, to learn my place in line for a few of the other dances. I will make sure I don't let Kumu and my Hula brothers and sisters down. What surprised me and kinda got me all in a funk again was this one particular dance. Kumu was letting everyone who was doing this particular hula where their spots were. He didn't call me. Out of all the dances I know, I thought that this was my strongest. I thought I was a shoe-in for this one. In this hula one has to sit on one's knees. Not everyone in the class is physically able to do this. I am. When he asked for those who he didn't call who could kneel he made us all sit in a line and dance in front of everyone, to try-out for the remaining spaces.

I don't know how to explain this right, I don't think. I'm mad at myself for having to try out for this hula. I thought I was good enough to get picked; not good enough for the few dances that some of my hula brothers and sisters are doing apart from the group dances, but good enough to not have to prove myself to fill an empty spot at the last minute. I tried out and I got in. Yay.

When I got home I was tired and my brain hurt. I stayed up too late watching bad TV and drinking icky wine. I had a hard time getting to sleep and had weird hula dreams I woke up not remembering.

Last night Kumu said something interesting that has been bumping around my brain all day.
"If you think you've got this dance down, try harder." I guess that's the lesson I should take from this experience. It's not enough to love what I'm doing. The love of dance isn't going to make me a better hula dancer. It won't hurt, but it won't put me in the 3rd row. Always strive to do better. I wonder how many other people left feeling similarly.



If you think you've got this dance down, try harder. Lesson Learned.

I TOTALLY stole this.

My friend D wrote this little note in her Facebook. I'm totally stealing it because I like it. Thanks BeerGirl.

"One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!' This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call, 'The Law of the Garbage Truck'.He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets. The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day. Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so...Love the people who treat you right. Pray for the ones who don't. Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it! Have a blessed, garbage-free day! "

Cross number 38 off The List

On Sunday (8/30) the fam and I walked the Barbary Coast Trail. Seeing pictures and video of myself dance on Saturday night, although beautiful, seemed to indicate that I am a little "Rafaelite". Little Miss says I am huggable like a Fairy Godmother. God bless Little Miss. I figured a day of being active (followed by many more days of being active) was the thing to do. We had perfect weather. It was a little chilly if you were standing still but quite nice, and even a little warm while we were walking. We drove down to the garage on Mission St. And started our journey in front of the Old Mint. I thought it would be fun to take pictures of all of the street markers point the way. Hubby humored me and took pictures of the first 5 or so. We zig zagged though the downtown streets of San Francisco. At one point we realized we were just going on a nice walk rather than learning about bits of history. We had no guide, no guidebook. So that's what it was, walking a premarked trail. I did see some parts of SF I'd never seen before. I have walked down Grant Avenue through Chinatown, but never any streets parallel to Grant. I took the time to look at the really amazing designs, carvings , mouldings and inscriptions on many of the buildings. About the time we got to the Kearny and Bay intersection we were hungry and tired. We decided to call it quits, walked to Fog City Diner for some Truffle Fries and Asiago Cheese and then took the #10 to Market and walked back to the car. On the way home the Kiddies fell asleep in the car.
When we got home we hung out a little bit, then made dinner. After dinner, and after the Kiddies were in bed we watched "The Cheese Nun" on netflix; a documentary about Sister Noella. Nice Day.

Kumu Robert

Last Saturday (8/22) I was given a gift. I liked the gift but I didn't quite grasp how valuable this gift was until a day or so later. I attended a workshop at my halau (hula school). Teaching this workshop was my Kumu's Kumu Robert Cazimero.
First and probably the most important part of this gift, to be taught by one's Kumu's Kumu is special. Great leaders beget great leaders. My Kumu trusted me (well, all of us, not specifically me) to show his Kumu that I/we had learned well, and not just learned well, but that Kumu had taught well. Just as I go to class every week to show Kumu that I'm taking to heart everything he's taught, he's showing his Kumu that he's done the same. Everything I did that day in the workshop was a reflection of what I'd been taught. Had I done poorly, or had I been disrespectful, it would have shown negatively on Kumu.
The second part of this gift was Robert Cazimero. Not only is he my Kumu's Kumu, he's also a multi-Na Hoku Hanohano-award winner. He has a beautiful voice. The type of voice where you can put your earbuds in, turn up the volume and no matter what's happening, his singing will lull you into a trance, thinking all is right with the world for the next 3 minutes.
In addition to being a popular, award winning and influential recording artist, he's also a Kumu Hula with a hula lineage reaching back through Maiki Aiu Lake to Lokalia Montgomery. Since he is my Kumu's Kumu, my hula lineage, if I may be so bold, stretches back to Ms. Montgomery as well.
I am very thankful and honored I got to have this experience.