Thursday, May 18, 2006

Glitter Makeup = Erika + Self-Esteem


Yesterday morning I woke up a bit frustrated with my hair situation. I 'fro-ed it out to let the scalp breathe. Monday I put some gel in it to control the 'fro situation and the next day could not stand the crunch factor.

But, since I had another event with high powered people, I rewet and applied olive oil to give it conditioning without the crunch factor. It was extra virgin olive oil and in the end had a little bit of a smokey scent.

Yesterday I woke up knowing that I would be photographing the DVD premier for Streetside Stories and thought I would let myself be casual. I put on jeans, the Afro-puff Girls T-shirt, and brought the fro-puff into an up-do and then looked at the face.

Yesterday was a day for glitter. I was celebrating young people's accomplishments and I was going dancing with Emma later to whirl and bounce to Cheb i Sebbah's (hopefully) tasty tracks and so needed to be festive.

I don't know how to do makeup.

But I can glitter.

So I placed three dots on either side of my eyes leading to my temples.
I created a glitter soul patch with two side vertical lines on either side along my chin.

And I created a swirl flanked by two vertical lines of glitter on my forehead.

A little glitter/tribal.

And on my lips I tried the Passion lip gloss that I bought in February and lightened the colour because I was a little shy about putting the full purple effect on.

Just a little bit of festive.

I walked into a database meeting and the first comment in the room was, "Whoah, what happened to your head?"

I ignored that. It came from an adult.

My students thought it was festive.

And so did the Streetside Stories crew.

After my duties as photographer, I walked across the street to meet Dancho for dinner at Ti Couz. I made the executive decision because I was HUNGRY and he was on his way. I did get concensus from el Dancho and dinner was on.

We were seated in a room with two of the most shrill, loud women ever. It made ordering and conversation a little difficult.

I asked him about his day, the patients he's been working with, and how his schedule works. He's on call this weekend.

We discussed my schedule for the week and I we agreed on potentially a movie on Monday. I needed a break today and will be on a video shoot tomorrow night and then river opening party for the weekend.

Emma met us as Ti Couz and we chatted a bit and I noticed the sleepy veil coming over Dancho's eyes. Okay! Time for Buenas Noches and off to meet up with Houman for Underground SF/Cheb Time!

Quick peck goodnight and then we're off to Nob Hill and hang with the Houman. South Park is on. I request tea. We're laughing in the way that Houman, Emma, and I do and I am sure Houman's guest must have wondered who these twittering women were who just swooped into his house.

After a little tea and tv, we left Stephen Colbert for Underground SF, found decent parking, and entered upon Cheb actually spinning some decent grooves.

I walk in and am immediately greeted by Dave. He's tall, has wavy dark brown hair, and seems super-friendly...drink in hand.

Conversation starts pleasantly enough and then he starts petting my hair...(things are taking a dark turn)...and telling me how he's had black girlfriends before...and how he knows what we're all about...and I tell him that's unfortunate that he needs to put "us all" in a box, explained the blatina thing, and then looked to Emma and Houman for support.

"I am here to dance!"

And I slid to the dance floor. Some Arabic is on and I immediately find a spot among some swayers and some beautiful women samba-ing.

My first dance partner is a tall, svelte, blonde woman and we inspire one another, making circles with our arms and hands. Our feet glide along the floor and our hips are keeping time to the dumbek.

We continue our duo through the next tune...a Sub-Saharan track.

My next partner is a brunette gentleman in a button down shirt and slacks. A Romani-Gypsy tune comes on and he's an absolute gentleman leading me by my hands. It's a lovely dance.

Next bhangra comes on. By this time my feet are sticking to the floor and I kick up the soles of my feet to see that they are literally black and encrusted with crud.

My jeans are not breathing, and I need a break from bouncing up and down. I out of practice. My shoulders and feet are not in sync and I am parched.

I reconnect with Emma, Houman and Guest. They are still by the bar and poor Emma is being accosted now by Dave. I sip some water, check in and see how all are doing, and then a latin-samba-inspired number comes on. And I have to dance to that.

Here is where I meet /suMEET/ (sp?). I am about to alight up the stairs and he stops me, gently places his hand on my shoulder and asks if he can talk to me.

Random white girl is doing the bellydance trill and we both looked at each other like, "What the hell is she doing? You don't trill to samba!" We laugh about that and he asks me about my glitter. I tell him I don't know how to do makeup and this is my way of being festive. He tells me it's beautiful and there's a slight pause where I feel that I am being scanned for facial expression. He then asks me to dance.

And we dance.

And he is my partner for the rest of the evening. And we play well off each other, he leads me, he lets me walk away. (Sidebar: I hate it when a guy grabs me on the dance floor and tries to force me to move a certain way. /suMEET/ did not do this. We partnered well.) And song after song comes on. Some MC Solaar, some more Arabic, I go a little nuts to some sub-Saharan tune and pick up some women partners and we make a triad. A little desi number comes on that I remember from a PMP mix and the familiarity with the tune springs me into action. Up-down go the shoulders and I am listening and trying to move my feet which are stuck to ground because of all the crud on the floor.

/suMEET/ picks me up at one point during this song and I find my head to the floor and my legs up in the air. I feel like we're on Dancing with the Stars. It's silly and romantic and this seals our friendship.

We take a break and talk and he asks if he can see me again, if he can make me dinner and I am blushing from this attention.

The evening is ending. Dave and Emma are now on the dance floor and she's doing her best to be polite. We make eye contact and I need to rescue her.

Khaled's "Aicha" comes on and I grab her hand. This is our song. Houman & guest appear and I grab Houman's hand and say, "Just like Stern Grove last summer!"

Houman shifts his shoulders in that sexy dance way that he does and we 3 are enjoying the moment.

The evening ends and phone numbers are exchanged and I leave with my crew simply not believing that I just met someone on a night that I had a date.

Is that wrong?

On the way home I get a phone call from /suMEET/ asking if I am safe, which I think is sweet. I tell him I'm moments away from home and ask if it's okay to call back.

I get home and then we chat for about a half hour. I ask him what I should bring to dinner tonight. "Dessert" and then we talk about the books we have recently read. We wish each other "Good night." And it's 3:30 in the morning.

We haven't determined /suMEET/'s age. We're thinking he might be younger because he offered to make me dinner.

But I have to admit it was just lovely to have such a dance partner who was into the dance and not just out to get gropes. It had an element of romance that was sweet.

We're up to 5 kisses for the year. One per month. *blush*

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