4/20 Smokeout

For most adults, April 20th was probably just another day, but for my high school students, 4/20 is a day signifying marijuana use–whether they actually use it or not, it became one of the many distractions that they juggled while in class.  I had my own unintended 4/20 observance in the morning with my own special twist, which can only be largely summarized as Teresa’s On-going Bad Luck.

I woke up unusally early Wednesday morning.  I felt well rested, but knew that I’d be tired later on since I was up about an hour earlier than normal.  Nonetheless, I decided to make the best of it by preparing one of my favorite breakfasts: hashbrowns, beef sausage along with my usual bowl of freshcut fruit.  I even fancied that I could get in a little writing. Although I write everyday on my second novel, The Adventures of Infinity and Negativa, I don’t set any page limit on my daily writings; so I’m free to write as little or as much as both time and creativity will both allow.

Since I like to multitask, I have frozen hashbrowns and sausage just waiting to be heated up for 15 minutes in the oven while I do other things.  Like any good chef, (and teacher) I always let the oven heat up first before completing my daily morning bathroom ritual.  During that time, I thought I smelled something funny, but it wasn’t too alarming since I’d baked turkey casserole on Sunday and some had sputtered over the casserole pan onto the oven. I became alarmed when the actual smoke detector went off.

I dashed out of the bathroom to discover a steady stream of smoke billowing out of the stove burners.  I opened the oven and saw a healthy flame flicking in the bottom of the oven.  I’m proud of myself in retrospect that I hadn’t panicked. I reached under the kitchen sink cabinet where the fire extinguisher was, pulled the plastic band off it, aimed and put the small fire out.  I then opened my front door and the patio door to let the smoke out.  While the apartment aired out, I fanned the space under the smoke detector since that sound was the most annoying aspect of the whole situation. Granted, it saved my life and apartement, but I wanted to push some button or somehow “reason” with it that the fire was out and fresh air was flowing in.

The second most annoying thing was the fine yellow powder that came out of the fire extinguisher that covered everything in both my kitchen and living room.  Again, the fire extinguisher saved life and property, but I had no idea that powder would be carried in the smoke, coating everything.  I normally consider myself a clean person, but the one thing I hate doing is dusting.  There was no getting out of that now.  I can ignore a little dust, but the yellow powder mixed with the dust made my apartment look like one of those haunted abandoned houses one usually sees in horror movies.

I did a quick cleaning of the “essential” parts of my apartment, saving the rest for Good Friday, which I had off.  I laughed on my way to work about how I’d just celebrated the infamous 4/20 compared to how some of my students would celebrate it.  Fortunately, I got a proper, albeit belated 4/20 celebration on Good Friday.  I started my morning off by spraying oven cleaner in my little inferno, (which I should have done on Sunday after baking!), cleaning off my furniture and things with disposable polishing cloths and washing my throw pillows.  I looked on the bright side: this was the spring cleaning that my apartment would not have received otherwise.

I then swam 21 laps at the gym and decided to call up a friend to go out to dinner.  Coincidentally, we chose to go to a Lebanese restaurant that had shisha!  After a wonderful meal of lamb, hummus and pita, I topped the meal off with Bahrini flavored shisha.  Now THAT”S the way one should celebrate a day dedicated to smoking!  Nothing illegal or imminently dangerous.  Granted my nonsmoker’s lungs choked on the toxins a few times. I sat back on the patio, under the stars, passing the shisha pipe and enjoying the good conversation between my friend and I.

So, I’ll sign off with a much felt Happy 4/20 and Easter!

Categories: Holidays | 1 Comment

Unofficial 40.5 Birthday Celebration

Had I paused to think about it, I would have brought my camera with me on Saturday.  Yet, I was in the midst of juggling several activities, starting with writing, filing my on-line sales taxes then dashing off to school in order to water the school garden and prune the spice plants, both to keep them from growing wildly and to use in my turkey casserole. 

But once I returned to my apartment, I slowed down and painted for nearly an hour. I’m nearly done with the geometric design on the 12 x 12 box that I had to repaint.  Yes, I was morally obligated to repaint over the atrocious oil painting that originally covered that innocent wooden box and go for something that a painter with my questionable ability couldn’t mess up too badly.  From across the room, it actually looks beautiful with its square and triangle design in my signature bold colors. I don’t even notice the flaws until I’m an arm’s length away and when I stray that close, I just have to snatch it up and take my .5 brush and clean up some of the lines. I  learned a few years ago that the most challenging thing for me to paint freehand is a straight line…and yet I still try.

I cleaned up remarkably well, put on some jean shorts and a fun, colorful top that had beaded work (one person commented that I looked particularly “ethnic”), and took 2 hours worth of tango lessons followed by a “Salsa on 2” workshop, then scooted over to Central Market to enjoy one of their tasty dishes, shrimp and mango over rice along with an even tastier Malbec just before Ritmo 3 played.

Initially, I was worried since some girlfriends had showed up to join me, but no leaders.  I don’t mind being the early bird to get the table for the group, but I would like to have a reason for changing out of my regular shoes and into my dance shoes.  After the first song finished, the first of several male friends finally appeared and we cautiously got on the dancefloor, careful not to collide into all the little kids who were enthusiastically dancing.

Things definitely picked up after the band break.  The sun had gone down, the latecomers had arrived and I nearly danced the soles off my shoes.  Nonetheless, I felt wonderful and when I got home around 9:30 I saw the radiance in my face.  I thought back to my 40th birthday celebration back in September where I’d spent the whole day dancing.  Although I’d just done it on a smaller scale, I think I should make it a point to do that more than twice a year.

Categories: Special Events | 1 Comment

Louisiana Swamp Thing Presents George Clinton & Parliment

As soon as I’d read that Buda (pronounced byu-DAH, despite its spelling), a small town  a few minutes south of Austin was hosting a crawdad festival, officially called the “Louisiana Swamp Thing” that included a free plate of crawdads and all-day music with headliner George Clinton with Parliment, I immediately started singing “Atomic Dog.”  My fellow capoeiristas, Liz and her daughter, Luna, and I trekked down to Buda to make our funk the P funk.

After initially driving by the town since there were virtually no advertising signs along the highway save for a scrolling bank prompt which announced all the upcoming events for the town that happened to display something other than the event we were going to when we initially drove by, we parked miraculously close for arriving so late at 6 pm. We wanted to get there early enough to eat before listening to Clinton, but late enough not to wait around too much. I figured that people who had come in the morning, eaten and drank to their fill, had to go home before being overtaken by the food coma. Everything’s a tradeoff; so we got a good parking space, but missed out on our free plate of crawdads. Nonetheless, I was very happy with a delicious bowl crawdad etouffee followed by a fresh batch of  crisp, flaky beignets lightly dusted with powdered sugar. 

We then watched the last part of a unicycle football game.  As impressive as the athleticism showed by playing football on a unicycle was, I was preoccupied with how much their crotches must have hurt conditioning for that sport.

Luna happily played on the playgrouond equipment while Liz and I talked until about 30 minutes before George Clinton and Parliment were due to grace the stage.  We figured that was the perfect time to join the slow-moving port-o-potty line. Once we joined a misleadingly short port-o-potty line, dusk rapidly set and Liz asked the pertinent question of whether we’d be able to see once we’d closed the door to the port-o-potty.  I’d already been juggling two other port-o-potty concerns:  1) available toilet paper and 2) handwashing facilities (I hate it when places with port-o-potties don’t have accompanying port-o-sinks! Do they want an outbreak of cholera?). Her third consideration motivated me to suggest that we wait in the longer, slower women’s bathroom line at the permanent facilities in the park.  Of course there were only two stalls, but the bathroom was well lit and new toilet paper rolls were invitingly lined up along the tops of the stalls. Plus there was a sink with running water.

Liz and I passed the time, swapping capoeira stories, when the woman in front of us asked an exiting woman about the condition of the second stall.  The woman, who’d obviously had too many mind-altering substances, brashly slurred, “It’s fine! It’s fine!” and stumbled out into the night. The next two women in front of us, timidly peeked in, shrieked that there was too much “poo” and rejoined the line, waiting for the first stall. Sensing the chance to shave off at least five minutes off my public bathroom line wait, I looked at it and declared it usable, to the horror of the other two women.  I proudly and loudly declared, “I didn’t live in developing countries for nothing!” closed the door with relish and secured the lock as if someone would have actually interrupted me.

Whichever diarrhea-suffering woman had hovered over that toilet had misjudged the target by about two inches and hit the back of the seat.  Therefore, the front of the seat looked squeaky clean in comparison; so I used my balance training from yoga/capoeria/tango, put all my weight on my left foot, lifted the lid with my right foot and hid most of the shitty scene.  Granted, I still hovered to do my business, but at least I’d pyschologically minimized the damage.  Flushing the toilet with the same balancing maneuver I’d used to lift the lid, I was quite proud of myself and informed the same two women who were still waiting for the ever elusive first stall that I’d “fixed it”.  They still didn’t find it to their pleasure, but a woman several women back in line jumped at the chance, stating, “Just cop a squat!” and closed the stall door with the same relish as I’d done moments earlier.

Now you know when I spend this much time on a shitty public bathroom story, that George Clinton and Parliment must have stank worse!  Where shall I begin? (Of course that’s merely a rhetorical question since I’m sticking to a chronological unfolding of this story.) The show began nearly an hour late, during which they played back-to-back tortuous country music save the one Johnny Cash song to deter mass suicide.  I figured the DJ either wanted to see how dedicated we were to listen to all that crap or was just attempting to make the headliners sound just that much better in comparison.

As the band members rolled out one by one all decked out mostly in outrageous looking costumes, we anxiously awaited to spot Clinton.  Among the many things we learned in the women’s bathroom line was that Clinton had shaved off his rainbow-colored locks. Yet, I figured I’d still recognize him by his stage presence alone.  About forty-five minutes of listening to various Parliment members doing their thing, which hardly hit the spot, Clinton strutted onto the stage decked out in iconic Fidel Castro camouflage.  He spread his arms wide, bowed to the audience, removed his camouflaged hat and rubbed the top of his head to emphasize that the dreads were gone.  A third of the crowd had already left.

After another forty minutes, they finally played “Flashlight”.  True fans scattered among half the crowd who still remained, broke out with their little flashlights.  And like a lover who spends too much time on foreplay in an attempt to get an erection, Clinton shot his load prematurely. His voice, the last we heard of it, sounded painfully gravelly and he could not continue the fifteen minute version of “Flashlight. (I’m estimating here since we didn’t stay for the end of the song, but every other “song medley” had lasted about that amount of time.) 

The only silver linings, besides how close the car was once we made our escape, were the sheer professionalism of the band who took turns singing the lead and the guy who played Sir Nose.  Just imagine a medium brown brother (almond joy?) with rock hard abs, impressive flexibility and knowledge of basic belly dancing moves and break dancing poses.

As I looked back at the stage, I noted sadly how that much-anticipated show had managed to decimate (literally means to reduce to one tenth) its original crowd.  I imagine that the people who stayed until the very end were too high to realize that anyone in their right minds had already left.  At least they got to hear “Atomic Dog”, assuming they had not passed out beforehand.

Categories: Special Events | 2 Comments

Ladies’ Night Out @ Cindies

 I had yet another salacious Sunday reading! I’d stopped by Cindie’s nearly a month ago just to drop off a press kit, containing a press release for Tribe of One as well as an excerpt from the book, a copy of an erotic short story and an erotic poem.  I had had no idea that this event was in the works at the time; so I think this was meant to be. 

As the audience of women, who all had to pre-register for the event,  started to arrive by 6 pm, they were given a bag of goodies, and given a brief tour of the three vendors who were present: a suggestive underwear vendor, a henna tatto vendor and an adult-themed dessert and candy vendor. The ladies also had their choice of champagne, red wine and/or white wine.  As tempting as those drinks appeared, I abstained, which was ironic since I’d brought my very own decorative plastic wine glass.

 By 6:45, the Ladie’s Night Out workshop began with a very informative session about various, entertaining, sexy and “vagina friendly” products that women could use to heighten their intimate encounters or simply spice up the romance in a long-established relationship.

At the conclusion of that workshop, the Cindie’s employees cleared the table of sex accesory products and raffled off a gift as I set up some of my books and business cards. Once the little intermission was over, I introduced myself and proceeded to entertain the crowd with three chapters from Tribe.  From the very first sentence of the opening chapter, “Life would be so much easier if I weren’t a gay white man trapped in a black woman’s body,” I had the enthusiastic and vocal audience of women laughing and engaged. The other two chapters that I read dealt with the main charcter’s on-line search for the perfect vibrator, followed by her visit to a sex shop to pick up her vibrator along with some related must-have items.

I’m not sure how many purchases I inspired with those two chapters, but I do know that out of all the products I mentioned in my book, Cindie’s had all but one of them available and for sale. Next, I read the short, sweet and raunchy story, “Purple Passion,” which is always a crowd pleaser. 

Afterwards, I stood up to a wonderful burst of applause to which I raised my plastic wine glass of water in response.  I had to quickly break down my sound equipment and clear off the table to make way for the belly dancing workshop that followed.  Although all the Cindie’s employees busied themselves setting up for the belly dance presentation or assisting customers with their purchases, they all took a few seconds to congratulate me on my reading with both managers encouraging me to keep in contact for future events. 

Categories: Tribe of One | 1 Comment

So, How Does YOUR Garden Grow?

For the second week in a row, I did something that I’d never done before…supervise the creation of a square garden at the high school where I teach.  Although it was a rewarding experience, yesterday was the culmination of months of planning, overcoming many obstacles and several donations.

My main objective for revitalizing the school’s garden was to encourage students to spend time outside doing something postive.  Granted, the area that was formerly used as the garden had become so overrun with weeds that it looked like a vegetable and weed cemetery.  Besides, most people did not even know that the school had a garden.

I attended three classes sponsored by The Sustainable Food Center, which subsequently awarded Akins High School with $200 toward the implementation and maintenance of our two square gardens. Then Home Depot gave us $75 worth of gift certificates, which helped pay for the lumber, soil and mulch…the added bonus was that one of the Home Depot managers delivered the materials to our school since my Honda Fit couldn’t possibly fit all that plus the tools that Keep Austin Beautiful lent us: 10 rakes, 20 pairs of work gloves, 10 hand cultivators and a wheel barrow! ( Yes, I actually put a wheel barrow in my tiny car and I have the picture to prove it!) The Natural Gardener also gave us $100 in gift certificates, which we used to buy a selection of vegetables, herbs and organic fertilizer. 

The theatre teacher at Akins graciously lent us battery-operated, cordless drills, both for predrilling and power screwing the wooden frames together.  The rest of the manual labor was done mostly by 7 students, another teacher and one of my gardening expert friends who dropped by to lend us a hand and some valuable advice.

In the end, we truly created a community garden since so many people, representing different aspects of our community had come together to make our Akins Garden Party a success!

Categories: Teaching | Leave a comment

Jiu Jitsu Challenge

I did the predictable things during my spring break “staycation”: painting, writing, dancing (salsa and tango), dropping off press kits, organizing my files (electronic and tangible), and training capoeira. Yet, one of the most memorable parts of my time off was trying something I’d never done before: jiu jitsu.

I’d heard of the “other” Brazilian martial art before since I have practiced capoeira, off and on, for 5 years.  Yet, when my capoeira teacher, Alex, invited me to join him in the fundamental jiu jitsu class that he attends, I envisioned practicing punch and kick drills.  Other than capoeira, I’d practiced hapkido for a year when I lived in Seoul, Korea.  So, I figured, every martial arts must have kicks and punches, right?

We missed most of the warm up exercises since we came late.  Plus, I had to change out of my capoeira uniform into a gi that the instructor, Marcelo, had given me, then fill out a form.  Once I joined the line up of seven other students, Marcelo was practicing the first technique with Alex. Then, we 8 students paired up to practice what appeared to be a wrestling technique. Since there was one other woman in the class, we paired up.

She was very patient with me and although she had only been practicing jiu jitsu for 2 months, she was quite knowledgeable about the sport. From my brief technique practice of two different moves, I understood that jiu jitsu players want to restrain their opponent’s movement by pinning him/her.  If you find yourself pinned, then you must maneuver to break free and pin your opponent.  Technique is perhaps the greatest skill that a jiu jitsu player must train for.  Like most things in life, things go much more smoothly with a logical strategy.  Then again, when all else fails, use brute strength!

During the latter part of the class, we sparred with one another for 5 minute-intervals.  Those were the longest 5 minutes of my life.  Marcelo had me spar with Alex first so he could explain the “rules” to me.  I guess Marcelo figured that since Alex was my capoeira teacher, he should be used to explaining things to me. First thing Alex explained to me was that we start in a kneeling position rather than a standing position since this was a fundamentals class.  In the advanced class, they start in a standing position and have to take each other down first before pinning.  All that spared me was being thrown to the ground, for which I was grateful to be spared that extra pain.

Next, he told me how I had to grab at various parts of the gi in order to manipulate my opponent to trap them.  Throughout our entire round, I just kept thinking how this whole endeavor reminded me of a date gone wrong. Afterall, the way we were trapping each other was to wrap our legs around the other tightly and trying to prevent the opponent from getting free.  If you were trapped, then you had to maneuver an escape…the most popular seemed to be the choke.

As my third sparring partner enthusiastically and repeatedly advised me, in order to effectively choke someone, you have to cross your arms, grab the opponent’s lapels very close to his/her neck and pull like hell until they gave some signal.  Despite my naturally aggressive personality, I found the aggressiveness of jiu jitsu alarming.  Yet, the three guys I sparred with were very gracious toward me and gave me pointers as I attempted to trap them.  They told me how to improve my technique, showing me, for example, how my extended arm or leg could be squeezed painfully between their legs; so I had to move quickly and not stretch a limb out for too long.

I truly got my workout, however, when I sparred with the other woman twice.  Unlike the guys, she went full-throttle jiu jitsu on me.  I guess she figured since we were both women with me being the younger of us, she’d give me my first day’s worth.  Youthfulness or not, the only thing that saved me was my capoeira strong arms.  Even the guys I’d sparred with had commented how strong I was.  Yet, if my female opponent had been training for three months rather than two, she would have made quick work of me since I could barely pin her with all my youthful strength and first day knowledge of technique.

Never have I been so happy to do post exercise stretches!  I quickly changed out of that gi and was more than ready for lunch.  I hadn’t been that hungry the whole spring break vacation.  Although I apparently did well for my first day, I don’t think jiu jitsu holds quite the same appeal for me as capoeira, especially since there’s no accompanying music. Even though capoeiristas make good jiu jitsu players, this capoeirista is going to stick to rodas rather than jiu jitsu matches.

Categories: Writing | Leave a comment

Spring Breaking as an Artist

Sheer relief overcame me on Friday at 4:15.  That was the official start of spring break.  Of course, we teachers aren’t supposed to leave until 4:30–looks bad if most of us beat the students out of the building! So the fact that I was there until 4:45, marking projects and entering grades wasn’t me trying to win anything like teacher of the year.  I just didn’t want to return from vacation with projects to mark.

This will be the first spring break in my 15 year career that I actually stayed home.  By some miracle, I do have the money to travel somewhere, but I chose not to add to my stress by planning a weeklong relaxing vacation!  None of the airport hassles or searching for the cheapest deals for me.  I decided, with the start of my second novel, The Adventures of Infinityand Negativa, that I would save money for a two-week visit to Utila, Honduras, a laid-back Caribbean island, where I vacationed before when I used to teach in Tegucigalpa.

In the meantime, I’m vacationing by living the life of an artist.  In addition to my daily habit of writing every day, I’m going to paint, dance more, read more, drop off more press kits to set up future readings, and of course, get some of those chores done that I’ve just not taken the time during a “normal” week to get done such as drop off stuff at Goodwill and go to Walmart to order more contacts.  Granted, those last two things are not too glamorous, but what a relief it’ll be to have them done by this time next week.

Categories: Writing | Leave a comment

Seek and Ye Shall Find

Last weekend, I invested quite a bit of time and as little money as I could get away with to make 30 press kits.  My goal was to visit different potential venues in order to set up a reading.  Although I write a variety of things, I’m currently promoting myself as an erotic writer, mainly because that was the type of show that I’d put together for “Cupid’s Naughty Secrets”.

So far, my list of possible places are mostly lingerie stores with a few independent book stores.  The first place I visited was Cindie’s on Ben White.  I was initially thrown off that the manager, who regularly leaves at 2:30, was not there.  I immediately thought that I must be doing something wrong since I cannot just leave work for the day around 2:30.  Nonetheless, I introduced myself to the employee  and explained the purpose for my visit and pointed out some key points of my press kit, namely the three samples of my work–an excerpt from Tribe of One, a short story and a poem–and my contact information which was conveniently and beautifully summarized on the two business cards that were inserted in the built-in card holding slots.

Once I finished explaining the purpose of my visit, the woman was so enthusiastic about what I was trying to do that she burst into a speech of useful facts about how I could feasibly set up a reading at another Cindie’s location.  She first directed me to the South Lamar branch and informed me that the other Cindies’ s in the north was the biggest location in Austin and had the most business. I thanked her and encouraged her to read through the writing samples and pass the press kit along to the store manager.

With newfound confidence, I drove to the South Lamar Cindie’s and browsed until someone could help me.  Again, I asked to speak with a manager and this time, the woman who had addressed me turned out to be a manager.  I took a deep breath, introduced myself and stated the purpose of my visit.  Her smile reassured me that I was on the right track, but when she handed me a flyer, which advertised their upcoming “Ladies Night Out”, I could not believe that my second visit to a store actually landed me a reading gig!  This woman turned out to be the regional events manager.

She sounded almost apologetic that I would not be listed on the first week’s advertising for the event, but assured me that my name and contact information would appear on the subsequent announcements.  I was so beside myself with happiness that I had to constrain myself from hugging her.  I told her that that was fine with me and we discussed some other details about the event.  She told me that the store manager, who was not present at the time, would be in contact with me the next day (which she did!).

I drove away on a cloud of optimism.  I excitedly called Mom, who lives in NC.  She was excited at my good news although she’s still somewhat embarrassed that her 40 year-old “baby” has written such an adult novel with so many curse words.  My writing has actually given her something else nag me about besides getting rid of my dreads, which I’ve had since 1993 and have no plans of changing.

I then called one of my older sisters, who lives in VA and has always thought of herself as my mother.  She was equally excited and when she announced my good news to her husband, he commented that  I could nowafford to take them out to dinner the next time I visited.  I told her that I could have done that before, but it would have to be at some place like Chili’s since I couldn’t possibly bankroll the pricey restaurants they were accustomed to.

The next day, I dropped off two more press kits.  So far, nothing has become of them.  As a matter of fact, one place responded as if I had given them a new idea about having a special event.  Nonetheless, I’m still optimistic and feel that I’m steadily walking down the path to success.  I know that big success comes from surviving failures. One thing that I like to continually remind myself  of is that the failures may outnumber the successes, but the succeses outweigh the failures!

Categories: Writing | Leave a comment

Cindie’s Ladies Night Out Reading 3/27

Cindie's Lingerie & Gifts
Cindie's Lingerie & Gifts
Cindie's Lingerie & Gifts

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!
Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!
Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!
Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

 

Join us for our Ladies Night Out!

 

Store #13/South Lamar
2100 South Lamar

 

Austin, Texas 78704

512-326-9999

Sunday, March 27th 6 p.m. to 9 p.m.
Ladies ONLY… Ladies Night Out!
Dear Cindie’s,

 

  Prepare for a night of pampering at our

“Arabian Nights” Ladies Night Out!

Set the mood with on-site henna body art by Michelle Pulsifer.

Learn the shimmy that will have your lovers head spinning in our “Bellydancing for beginners” class with Phaidra Vega.

www.onthespotbodyart.com

Erotic fiction and poetry reading by local author Teresa Y. Roberson

 www.mathdreads.com   

  

Discover the secrets to making the love last in our “Advanced Foreplay” class

  

*More special guests to be announced!

 

All attendees will receive 10% off their purchases!

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I Got the Global Look!

This past Thursday, I attended the Black Heritage Program at my school.  I was impressed by the diversity of talent shown by my Black students and was so proud that many of the performers had received recognition for maintaining at least a 3.0 GPA.  I was caught off  guard when they started handing out certificates to recognize Black faculty and staff.  If I’d known I would receive an award, I would have dressed a little nicer–I was just in my usual humdrum teaching clothes.  Plus, I thought it was a little funny to receive an award for being a Black teacher.  I know that there’s so few minority teachers, but to receive an award for it?

At the end of the program, I went up to one of my advisory students and gave him a hug for maintaining at least a 3.0.  The first thing he said to me was, “Ms. Roberson, I didn’t know you were Black!”  I just laughed and thought to myself, “Hmm, maybe it’s a good thing I did get an award for being a Black teacher after all!”

Reminded me of when I taught in Tanzania as a Peace Corps volunteer.  I stayed with a host family for the first two months.  Several adults who lived on my host mother’s compound could speak English.  One host sister was looking at my mini-photo album and after a while, she excitedly exclaimed, “Oh, you’re  the African American!”  Apparently, they had all heard that there was one out of the 29 volunteers in my group.  Looking back, I could hardly blame her for not recognizing my “Blackness” for a few days.  After all, I was much lighter than the average Tanzanian, I had freshly permed straight hair that  usually wore in a French roll–something I quickly stopped doing since it wasn’t worth the effort!

After it was established that I was Black, then Tanzanians wanted to know which one of my parents were White (neither), how did I make my skin so light, if I came to Tanzania because of Eddie Murphy’s movie “Coming to America” and if I knew Michael Jackson! 

While living in Tanzania, I also had other foreigners mistake me for being a mixed Tanzanian and compliment my English-speaking ability.  I’d smile and tell them that where I was from, we prided ourselves on our ability to speak English, which of course led them to ask where I was from.  Imagine my million dollar smile as I told them The United States.

When I taught in South Korea, Koreans knew I wasn’t one of them, but would ask if I was a Filipino.  Egyptians thought I was Egyptian if I was walking around by myself until they attempted to talk to me in Arabic. I’d learned a few phrases of Arabic in the two years I’d taught there, but had begun teaching myself Spanish when I got my next teaching job in Mexico. 

Of course,  my dreadlocks made me stand out in Mexico, where most people thought I was Brazilian, which I took as a compliment since I’d just started studying capoeira.  I then moved to Honduras three years later and was initially mistaken for Mexican because of the way I spoke Spanish.

When I moved to Austin, Honduras had just undergone its coup.  I still had a valid Honduran driver’s license, which showed my date of birth; so Iwould use it to get into clubs.  At least one guy allowed me to enter without paying a cover since my country had just suffered a coup.  I just smiled and thanked him.  Since I was unemployed at the time, I was happy to save a little money for a drink!

Yes, I certainly have a global look and the saga of not being recognized as a Black woman lives on.  Kind of makes me wonder who people have in mind when they think of  a “Black woman”?

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