This was my weekend. That is all.
One (of a thousand) things I’ve let slide in the last year of struggles is one of my most favoritest: dance.
I haven’t been to belly dance class since at least last summer, haven’t learned any new moves or choreographies, and have barely practiced on my own.
I told myself that “when everything was more under control”, that I’d go back.
Well, that “everything” got under some sort of “control”, but then recovering from that was exhausting, and then healing stuff that’s been askew in my life forever is too all over the place.
The thing is I know not to wait for life to get to back to “normal” before living it. I’m already living it, however it comes. Live it like I want it to be.
So when a buddy said, “Hey, let’s try this West African dance class,” I said, “Sure!”
My passport has arrived. My Amazon cruise fell through due to concerns of sketchiness. Where was I going to go for my first trip out of the country?
My colleague has picked a marathon… in Iceland. I need no such excuse–I’m just going to Iceland because it’s Iceland.
End of August, five nights, right before DragonCon. Lagoon and coastal tours are already planned, and restaurants are being picked.
I can’t even read the street names on the maps of Reykjavik. This is going to be awesome!
(This is fourth in a series of posts about Atlanta Poly Weekend 2013.)
Now for a downside of my APW 2013 experience: ableism.
I didn’t perceive very much physical ableism except for an awkward-as-hell “lame” reference in the closing ceremonies. I don’t think anyone even laughed. Then again, I know I’m also less sensitive to physical ableism than mental, so I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more.
For the mental ableism… it was everywhere. Therapists there used the word “crazy” and people talked about their “crazy, bipolar” exes. One person even said their ex was so crazy “they shouldn’t have been allowed to date.”