It's strange how my perspectives on weekends have changed, now that I'm working. They've gone from "yay I can sleep in" to "yay I can sleep in and have breakfast and watch the light pour in our windows and breathe . . . "
That said, this one is a little out of the ordinary for me. Colin is pouring wine for Arizona Stronghold Vineyards in Tempe today, and has been since Friday, so I'm left very much to my own devices.
Friday night was dedicated to mommy-bitsy activities; we got cupcakes from the Red Velvet Cupcakery at La Encantada (which conveniently has gluten-free vegan cupcakes for J), and wandered into Mildred and Dildred, a toy store I actually enjoy going into. All their toys are the sort I like, designed for imagination and not flashiness. J got a little rubber black bear that's about the size of a dime, and has been carrying him around all weekend.
Yesterday was busier than I anticipated (I tend to try and schedule things to keep myself busy when Colin's gone, because if I don't have a tendency to mope). J got to play with the daughter of some work colleagues while I went to school to babysit the computer lab so our seniors could get a project done. I was one of several teachers taking shifts. There's something almost cleansing about being at the school on the weekend: the halls are quiet, and you can hear the rushing of the fountain in the atrium, and the sunlight somehow seems cleaner without masses of students shouting obscenities in the hallways. I was able to get some grading done, too, and when I went to pick up J there was an orange Pellegrino and stories about swings waiting for me.
I do something called the Open Doors through Arizona Theatre Company: through a grant, they pay for me to take 7 of my students to 7 shows across the spring semester, and then we have a discussion with other schools and sometimes someone associated with the show afterwards. Last night they took us to see The Trey McIntyre Project, a modern/ballet company. It was gorgeous and fun: he choreographed pieces to totally non-traditional music, and two of the three pieces were centered around New Orleans. My favorite by far was the first, "Ma Maison," set to jazz/blues, with all of the dancers in skull headpieces. My favorite female dancer--featured more than almost anyone else--was phenomenal at using the mask as an extension of her physical expression.
And, because the grandparents had taken J for a sleepover, after the show I was able to go tango at the Sheraton for the last part of the milonga (which is when all the best tandas happen anyway). And then a couple of friends and I went to The Taco Shop and then out to a little hipster bar called La Cocina, which deserves its own paragraph . . .
It's located in a tiny plaza called Old Town Artisans next to the El Charro. It has an internal courtyard, with bricks and trees and an abundance of twinkle lights and patio tables. The bar itself is in a sparsely-lit square building in one corner, with dingy glass windows making up two walls and brick the other two. The posts supporting the ceiling are naturally shaped tree trunks. Last night the DJ was blaring hipster dance music (none of which I recognized), and everyone was dancing however the fuck they felt like, which was nice (although one of the friends I was with pointed out that the room couldn't quite contain so many free spirits). I got a Tom Collins, which was lovely and strong, and the bartenders were intelligent and personable. I will return, and not just for the blues musicians they host on Thursday nights.
So now it's Sunday, and after spending the morning sleeping in and cuddling the cat, I have to decide how best to manage my time this afternoon. There are chores (notably laundry, dishes, and cleaning the master suite, which tends to be neglected), grading, budgeting, and cleaning out the harddrive on my mac to pick from. There is tango with our local tango band, the Guerrilla Tangeros, at Skybar tonight--although, after three days of Colin-withdrawls, I will probably skip it. There will likely be wine brought home by my honey (who tends to bring home vino more often than bacon, which I consider a virtue).
I think in the meantime, though, I'll attempt that egg fried in bread thing that has been tempting me for the past two days . . .
disclaimer: although I have had a pretty decadent weekend, all things considered, please place it in the proper perspective of a week at work that was straight out of some medieval conception of hell. I'm attempting, in this post, to focus on what has been good and wonderful of late, and hope that the other resolves itself in the meantime.