(no subject)

I called the guy from SpiritDog yesterday to see how Jimmy was doing. They hadn't left for upstate yet, but he said he was getting along with Jimmy. Jimmy was still nervous, but not freaked out at all, not trying to bite or anything. Also, there was another dog with them, and he said that this one was a thousand times worse than Jimmy! And that Jimmy was making an effort to get along with the new dog, too. I always thought that Jimmy just wanted someone who understood him the way I did, and some other dogs for his pack, and I think he's going to get exactly those things. But I still miss him like crazy.

Today at Hula we had a run through of the show we're doing two weeks from now. The run through (I thought) was a shambles, but we did manage to work out a few kinks. Even more importantly, though, a lot of the whole group dynamic thing we have going on was very obvious. When Camille, Claudine and I were doing A Kona Hema, the other dancer whom I've mentioned a few times made a point of turning her back on us, talking as loudly as she could as if our music was interrupting her conversation, and then shutting the music off before the final kahea--indeed, before the last ipu beat had finished. Afterward, the two of them went on to do their 'auana piece, which, they'd told us, was going to be Beautiful Kaua'i. I guess they just decided to change it at the last minute, and--get this--are doing some schlocky Presley number. If you think that's the worst of it, you're wrong.

They choreographed it themselves. Oh, no, you read that right: they are so good now that they are choreographing their own "hula" without any kind of input or even permission from any Kumu Hula. (A little background info for my non-hula friends: in our Hula group, this is just not done. We follow protocol. For one thing, we do not do schlocky Hula, we do the real thing. For another, we just don't insult the Kumu Hula in this way. The woman who taught us Hula had permission, and actually encouragement, from various Kumu Hula that she should teach. She was also told by one Kumu Hula that it was okay if she choreographed some 'auana songs. That was after about six or seven years of her dancing and learning. That was how she taught us, too, that you just don't take Hula and run with it like that.)

I was as appalled as I'd ever been, but it ended up being one of those breaking points. Camille, Claudine and I talked for a long time after class about where our Hula group was going. We see how it's already splintering: two girls wanting to do Tiny Bubbles and Rock-A-Hula while wearing grass skirts, and three of us wanting to do it pono. We talked about the awkwardness and strain among us, we talked for a really long time about the insults we'd all put up with over the years and had never told each other about. C mentioned to me that this dancer had suggested using a studio way, way out West (where this dancer lives,) which would be about 60 miles from me. C had told her then, "It'd be nice if we could get something at least central to us all, so it wouldn't be a hardship on anyone." And this dancer told her, "well, Jules can just come whenever she can make it, then." Which didn't surprise me in the least, considering all the many rude things she's said to me over the years.

We talked about how we had all been striving for the ideal of Aloha, but it was getting harder and harder to reach. We talked about how none of us would ever think to join an already established group and then try to restructure it the way she's been trying to do. Most importantly, we talked about how we didn't want to do anymore shows that this dancer got for us, because of the way she steamrolls everyone else, otherwise sulks when she's unable to do that. Also mentioned was our group's name, and how this particular dancer had done all of our flyers and business cards--would she think she was entitled to take the name, should she decide to leave? I pointed out that A) I didn't think she would want it, as she can't even pronounce it and B) it was never hers to take. That name was ours before she joined the group, and it was thought up with the help and blessing of Kumu Hula Moon Kauakahi, who is one of my dearest and most cherished friends. As petty as it sounds, I would fight for that name if I had to. But I don't think I'll have to.

In short, I'm not looking forward to this show. That's sad, because lately I've been dreading Hula performances instead of looking forward to them with Aloha and excitement, and that's not how it should be.

All in all, I think it was more cathartic than catty. It's past the point of making things pono among us; I mean, it's been about two years and it's only gotten worse despite our best efforts. So it looks like once again things are going to change in our group; I'm just not sure how. But I think that when and if we have this discussion (because I'm pretty sure it's coming,) we're not even going to bother bringing up the many mean-spirited things she's said and done; instead we're just going to focus on our differences as dancers, and our different styles. There is a huge gulf between "Rock-a-Hula" and, say, Keali'i Reichel, you know what I mean? I don't think it can be bridged, or at least, I don't want to bridge it. I don't want to sound like a snob or anything, but I flat-out refuse to do that nonsense, and I refuse to do some dance that this chick--who has been learning "hula" for a mere three years or so and has been to one seminar--choreographed herself.

My first Hula teacher was Lynn; she's the one who had permission to teach and had been dancing Hula for about twelve years when I met her. She'd been to nearly every seminar in those years and had an extensive catalogue of dances and knowledge. We had our religious differences (she refused to do certain Hulas that honored Hawaiian gods and goddesses because she is a Christian, and I loved those dances more than any others,) and eventually I learned more of the language than she did, but she was an honorable teacher who tried her best to be pono and was a great dancer as well. Back when we were with Lynn, we did some awesome shows. My Hula performance ever was at a ho'ike. In fact, it was A Kona Hema, and Kumu Sonny Ching chanted it for us live that night. I thought I was going to pee myself I was so nervous, but it turned out to be a great Hula, and he complimented us afterwards and thanked us for keeping his Hula. The shows we did after that were all hardcore: mostly kahiko, a few authentic 'auana, and always a kickass Tahitian set (we do both Hula and Tahitian.) That's the kind of group the three of us want. That's what we hope to be doing. Not paying to dance in some cobwebby barn and having adults doing "One Paddle Two Paddle" representing us up there.

Anyway, that's my Hula mana'o for tonight. We'll have to see where it leads. But first we have to get through the show.

Spencer and Meg are here tonight. My Mom and I went to pick them up earlier today. It was raining like nobody's business and I was driving my Mom's van and we listened to a CD I had made with songs that I know the kids really like. Lots of Talking Heads and Nirvana, with "Can You Hear The Drums Fernando" and "Wildfire" for Meghan because she loves those songs. We talked about how the Talking Heads were one of the weirdest, most fun music acts ever, and we talked about Nirvana's rendition of "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" and his heart-rending look of revelation at the end of that song (which, I played the video for them when we got here. It gave Meghan the chills. My Mom, too.) I still maintain that no one has ever screamed like Kurt, and no one ever will again. I miss him, and I miss Layne. It's shameful how those two boys fell through the cracks.

At home, we had pizza, played a bit of DDR, and then watched a recording of Spencer's band. They sound so professional, and Spencer looks so eerily adult up there. And then we had ice cream as we watched Zoolander. Tomorrow, I'll probably set up the chocolate fountain and go through pictures. Meghan needs some photos for her "lifebook" project at school and I've got more photos than pretty much anyone in the family. I've documented these kids' lives visually and in words. She should find them interesting.

Monday is a different story. Dan asked me if I could go to his new apartment and wait for a furniture delivery, as he has to work that day. I told him I would. It was before I knew the kids would be here Monday, too, but I already said I would and I can't put him in a rough spot like that. I mean, he's moving, he needs furniture (and groceries. I will probably buy him some groceries, too.) But what was really funny was when, Thursday at work I made some comment to him like, "Call me Sunday and let me know when you want me there on Monday" and one of the Jenns heard this comment and asked, "For what?" Dan and I replied, simultaneously and without missing a beat: "For sex. To break in the new house." It was classic.

Odd. When I was driving home from dropping Jimmy off, I glanced at my trip mileage and it happened to be when it was 111.1 miles. Just now I glanced at the digital clock on my iO and it's 11:11. Hmm. I wonder what that portends.

This is a very long, very dull entry, isn't it? Indeed.

( My Tina Fey look, only not as hot, and in pajamas. )

(no subject)

I called the guy from SpiritDog yesterday to see how Jimmy was doing. They hadn't left for upstate yet, but he said he was getting along with Jimmy. Jimmy was still nervous, but not freaked out at all, not trying to bite or anything. Also, there was another dog with them, and he said that this one was a thousand times worse than Jimmy! And that Jimmy was making an effort to get along with the new dog, too. I always thought that Jimmy just wanted someone who understood him the way I did, and some other dogs for his pack, and I think he's going to get exactly those things. But I still miss him like crazy.

Today at Hula we had a run through of the show we're doing two weeks from now. The run through (I thought) was a shambles, but we did manage to work out a few kinks. Even more importantly, though, a lot of the whole group dynamic thing we have going on was very obvious. When Camille, Claudine and I were doing A Kona Hema, the other dancer whom I've mentioned a few times made a point of turning her back on us, talking as loudly as she could as if our music was interrupting her conversation, and then shutting the music off before the final kahea--indeed, before the last ipu beat had finished. Afterward, the two of them went on to do their 'auana piece, which, they'd told us, was going to be Beautiful Kaua'i. I guess they just decided to change it at the last minute, and--get this--are doing some schlocky Presley number. If you think that's the worst of it, you're wrong.

They choreographed it themselves. Oh, no, you read that right: they are so good now that they are choreographing their own "hula" without any kind of input or even permission from any Kumu Hula. (A little background info for my non-hula friends: in our Hula group, this is just not done. We follow protocol. For one thing, we do not do schlocky Hula, we do the real thing. For another, we just don't insult the Kumu Hula in this way. The woman who taught us Hula had permission, and actually encouragement, from various Kumu Hula that she should teach. She was also told by one Kumu Hula that it was okay if she choreographed some 'auana songs. That was after about six or seven years of her dancing and learning. That was how she taught us, too, that you just don't take Hula and run with it like that.)

I was as appalled as I'd ever been, but it ended up being one of those breaking points. Camille, Claudine and I talked for a long time after class about where our Hula group was going. We see how it's already splintering: two girls wanting to do Tiny Bubbles and Rock-A-Hula while wearing grass skirts, and three of us wanting to do it pono. We talked about the awkwardness and strain among us, we talked for a really long time about the insults we'd all put up with over the years and had never told each other about. C mentioned to me that this dancer had suggested using a studio way, way out West (where this dancer lives,) which would be about 60 miles from me. C had told her then, "It'd be nice if we could get something at least central to us all, so it wouldn't be a hardship on anyone." And this dancer told her, "well, Jules can just come whenever she can make it, then." Which didn't surprise me in the least, considering all the many rude things she's said to me over the years.

We talked about how we had all been striving for the ideal of Aloha, but it was getting harder and harder to reach. We talked about how none of us would ever think to join an already established group and then try to restructure it the way she's been trying to do. Most importantly, we talked about how we didn't want to do anymore shows that this dancer got for us, because of the way she steamrolls everyone else, otherwise sulks when she's unable to do that. Also mentioned was our group's name, and how this particular dancer had done all of our flyers and business cards--would she think she was entitled to take the name, should she decide to leave? I pointed out that A) I didn't think she would want it, as she can't even pronounce it and B) it was never hers to take. That name was ours before she joined the group, and it was thought up with the help and blessing of Kumu Hula Moon Kauakahi, who is one of my dearest and most cherished friends. As petty as it sounds, I would fight for that name if I had to. But I don't think I'll have to.

In short, I'm not looking forward to this show. That's sad, because lately I've been dreading Hula performances instead of looking forward to them with Aloha and excitement, and that's not how it should be.

All in all, I think it was more cathartic than catty. It's past the point of making things pono among us; I mean, it's been about two years and it's only gotten worse despite our best efforts. So it looks like once again things are going to change in our group; I'm just not sure how. But I think that when and if we have this discussion (because I'm pretty sure it's coming,) we're not even going to bother bringing up the many mean-spirited things she's said and done; instead we're just going to focus on our differences as dancers, and our different styles. There is a huge gulf between "Rock-a-Hula" and, say, Keali'i Reichel, you know what I mean? I don't think it can be bridged, or at least, I don't want to bridge it. I don't want to sound like a snob or anything, but I flat-out refuse to do that nonsense, and I refuse to do some dance that this chick--who has been learning "hula" for a mere three years or so and has been to one seminar--choreographed herself.

My first Hula teacher was Lynn; she's the one who had permission to teach and had been dancing Hula for about twelve years when I met her. She'd been to nearly every seminar in those years and had an extensive catalogue of dances and knowledge. We had our religious differences (she refused to do certain Hulas that honored Hawaiian gods and goddesses because she is a Christian, and I loved those dances more than any others,) and eventually I learned more of the language than she did, but she was an honorable teacher who tried her best to be pono and was a great dancer as well. Back when we were with Lynn, we did some awesome shows. My Hula performance ever was at a ho'ike. In fact, it was A Kona Hema, and Kumu Sonny Ching chanted it for us live that night. I thought I was going to pee myself I was so nervous, but it turned out to be a great Hula, and he complimented us afterwards and thanked us for keeping his Hula. The shows we did after that were all hardcore: mostly kahiko, a few authentic 'auana, and always a kickass Tahitian set (we do both Hula and Tahitian.) That's the kind of group the three of us want. That's what we hope to be doing. Not paying to dance in some cobwebby barn and having adults doing "One Paddle Two Paddle" representing us up there.

Anyway, that's my Hula mana'o for tonight. We'll have to see where it leads. But first we have to get through the show.

Spencer and Meg are here tonight. My Mom and I went to pick them up earlier today. It was raining like nobody's business and I was driving my Mom's van and we listened to a CD I had made with songs that I know the kids really like. Lots of Talking Heads and Nirvana, with "Can You Hear The Drums Fernando" and "Wildfire" for Meghan because she loves those songs. We talked about how the Talking Heads were one of the weirdest, most fun music acts ever, and we talked about Nirvana's rendition of "Where Did You Sleep Last Night?" and his heart-rending look of revelation at the end of that song (which, I played the video for them when we got here. It gave Meghan the chills. My Mom, too.) I still maintain that no one has ever screamed like Kurt, and no one ever will again. I miss him, and I miss Layne. It's shameful how those two boys fell through the cracks.

At home, we had pizza, played a bit of DDR, and then watched a recording of Spencer's band. They sound so professional, and Spencer looks so eerily adult up there. And then we had ice cream as we watched Zoolander. Tomorrow, I'll probably set up the chocolate fountain and go through pictures. Meghan needs some photos for her "lifebook" project at school and I've got more photos than pretty much anyone in the family. I've documented these kids' lives visually and in words. She should find them interesting.

Monday is a different story. Dan asked me if I could go to his new apartment and wait for a furniture delivery, as he has to work that day. I told him I would. It was before I knew the kids would be here Monday, too, but I already said I would and I can't put him in a rough spot like that. I mean, he's moving, he needs furniture (and groceries. I will probably buy him some groceries, too.) But what was really funny was when, Thursday at work I made some comment to him like, "Call me Sunday and let me know when you want me there on Monday" and one of the Jenns heard this comment and asked, "For what?" Dan and I replied, simultaneously and without missing a beat: "For sex. To break in the new house." It was classic.

Odd. When I was driving home from dropping Jimmy off, I glanced at my trip mileage and it happened to be when it was 111.1 miles. Just now I glanced at the digital clock on my iO and it's 11:11. Hmm. I wonder what that portends.

This is a very long, very dull entry, isn't it? Indeed.

( My Tina Fey look, only not as hot, and in pajamas. )