mastering the art of seductive

I'm not shy or lacking in self confidence, normally. I was cool with the knife fighting from our Stiletto Spy School classes, I'm fine with self-defense, lie detection, male Elvis strippers, crazy casino antics, all the rest. I loved it all, in fact. I still look back on those moments and chuckle to myself.

But.

The section of the spy school that featured "the art of seductive dance" was definitely NOT in my comfort zone. Especially not with tons of other people watching, several of which I hardly knew. Did I mention I'm a terrible dancer? I mean, I have the beat, but beyond shaking my hips and moving my legs a little, I'm not much for the moves. Plus, the bride and several of her friends live in Los Angeles. They take pole-dancing classes for fun! I'm way behind on my skills.

Our class was taught by an Australian stripper, and it took me a few minutes to even catch on to her accent, especially since she would refer to our "knickers" and "snap-off thongs", terms I don't normally use in my every day life with the two kids. Unfortunately.

Anyway, she started out with a dance routine to You Can Leave Your Hat On, and folks, this was not for the shy of heart. This was a straight up strip tease/lap dance, complete with removing all articles of clothing, rubbing our hands all over our bodies, flinging legs in the air, dancing on top of chairs. It was... something else.

I'm a good sport, though, and I pushed aside my discomfort and went with it, even though as I look back on pictures I'm realizing that when everyone was bending right, I was bending left, and when their arms were wrapped around their bodies, mine were still holding on to the chair, when they were on their knees, I was still in the turn. I'm sure it looked awful, but I persevered.

I even whipped out my perfectionist tendencies and asked specific questions like, "when did you say we should take off our underwear? Did you want us to rub all over our bodies or just through our hair?" My girlfriends got a good chuckle out of those, for sure.

I still haven't performed my moves for Josh, and I've practiced a few times and cannot for the life of me remember all the dance moves, but I did learn some valuable tips for those of you who would like to perfect the art of seductive dance.

1. You have to OWN IT. Who cares if you feel silly? BELIEVE that you look good. Believe that your significant other has never seen anything sexier. Rub that booty!
2. When all else fails, run your hands up and down your body, tousle your hair, crawl on your hands and knees. Again, they'll love it.
3. Turn down the lights, set up the candles, wear something sexy, put on a hot song. You Can Leave Your Hat On is good because it gives you cues on what to do, if you're at a loss.
4. Feel sexy, walk slowly, throw your hips around, and you will be sexy. I saw all those girls in the class transformed from shy girls into sex goddesses in just a couple of hours. Seriously, it was miraculous.

I'll let you know how I fare with my routine, I'm planning to go through with it this weekend after a couple of glasses of wine. I need to find a hat before I can really complete the effect. Anyone have a fedora they aren't using?

vegas, baby

Well, let's sum up the trip, shall we?

I took a knife skills and self defense class from crazy marine reconnaissance mission guys, learned about the art of interrogation and lie detection from a former (25+ year) CIA operative, and then practiced the art of seductive dance with a stripper (lap dances and chair dances). Watched Elvis strip and take money off of my friend T with his teeth. Laughed so hard in a casino I lay down on the floor and thought I might actually pee my pants. Relaxed by the pool for hours soaking up the sun while Bostonians got snow flurries. Almost collapsed on Monday morning from multiple days of sleep deprivation and a red eye flight.

It was fabulous and amazing and ridiculously fun. I am so stinking lucky to have such funny and confident and beautiful and fun and kind and generous and loving friends. I saw the trailer for the new Sex and the City 2 movie, and Samantha says, "Men, babies... it doesn't matter. We're soul mates." and it made me think of these girls. We don't live in the same city with unlimited budgets and the ability to lunch together every day, but we do continue to make the effort through the years. We've been lots of places, through lots of milestones, the good and the bad and the distances, and we're still holding strong.

Now if only I could get back to Vegas where no one is asking me to change any diapers. Hmm.

arrivals and departures

I can't remember now if I mentioned that the kids and I were leaving for California, but we were, and we did, and now we're back.

I survived, although I will admit that the trips to a fro were BRUTAL. On the trip there Gabe, Josie, and I were flying from Boston to Washington D.C. and then on to Sacramento, and because Josh happened to be flying out the same day from a different airport, I was lucky enough to have a friend offer us a ride, but we had to be dropped off at the airport 3.5 hours early. We'd been in airports or flying for 7 hours by the time we boarded the plane in D.C., and it wasn't until that moment that I realized the horrible truth. We'd made NO PROGRESS and were facing a 6 hour flight to California. I almost cried, but instead I fed the kids cookies and ate peanut butter cups. Then Gabe got diarrhea on that flight and I spent 30 minutes in the airplane bathroom wedged into a corner, pressing my knee against Josie to keep her from moving and licking the sides of the toilet and holding Gabe up while he cried. It was, well, A.W.F.U.L. Really. I've been blocking it out of my mind because I still faced the return trip and I didn't want to consider what might happen on the return.

It wasn't quite as bad as the initial trip, mainly because we were traveling for 8 hours as opposed to 14.5, but Josie did vomit all over me as we were descending into Denver, and then we had an Incident on the moving walkway when her car seat got trapped in front of me as we were trying to get off the moving walkway, and the rolling luggage was behind me, and I looked like a cartoon character as I tried to balance with a rolling item in front of me and another behind me and my legs pinwheeling while I frantically tried to heave the caught car seat off the ramp. A kindly man finally took pity on us and sprinted over and helped me fling the car seat off the metal ramp. I'm sweating just remembering that moment, I wish I had video. The rest was terrible but not due to any dramatic events, just general toddler misbehavior and a 2am arrival time. There isn't much you can do when you are keeping kids up for hours and hours past their bedtime. You just give them more lollipops and hope for the best, no?

The rest of the trip was great, although much much colder than I'd planned on due to some sort of unexpected cold front. My parents and I took the kids to the zoo, the San Francisco Exploratorium, some toddler type amusement park, tons of parks and walks, and I gained 5 pounds because I ate like a pig and sat on my behind all day long. Ahhh, vacation. I miss you.

We're back at home, and I am in some sort of crazy delirium of being thrilled to be home, in my bed, with my husband, and loving my house and neighborhood and the weather that is somehow ridiculously warmer than California. Go figure! I'm taking long walks and slow jogs every day because I have to lose these 5 pounds before this weekend due to an incredible event taking place on Friday.

I am LEAVING MY CHILDREN FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. EVER. I am going to Vegas with some of my best law school girlfriends and we are doing extravagant things like staying at the Venetian hotel, going to Stiletto Spy School, gambling, dancing, and taking care of no one besides ourselves for 72 whole hours. I will not be wiping another human beings' behind for 3 whole days. I'm hyperventilating at the thought. I've also cried 3 times over the last 3 days because I'm leaving Josie for the first time in the care of her father, and it is killing me softly, but I am holding on to the belief that doing something for myself with my friends will make me a better mother. Right? Tell me I'm right, please.

I'm leaving Friday morning, and between now and then I'll be scouring my closet to find acceptable clothing for a weekend where no one will smear greasy fingers on me. My friend told me not to get off that plane if I do not have sequins in my bag. Can't wait.