Hey, I'm back in blogworld after a lengthy stay in "finishing my book world." I'm polishing my acknowledgements today, so if you feel like you would like to be acknowledged in a book about pet weight loss and exercise, send me an e-mail...and a hefty check.
And as I emerge from my fortress of book-itude, I find myself wanting to learn how to..salsa dance. I find myself listening to La Mega, thinking about Don Omar, who is singing my favorite song of the moment, "Pobre Diabla," a nifty "he done you wrong" song with a twist (Don Omar's even made it to mtv.com, via a Latin hero video).
I find myself thinking about John Curtis, one of my classmates on our University of Pittsburgh trip to Colombia in 1977. John, who once gave me a ring with a picture of Punxsutawney Phil the Groundhog on it, danced like a fiend, and loved to teach people how to do the same. But I defeated him. After one too many rum-soaked attempts to teach my Irish Catholic ass to cumbia--or maybe paso-doble-- John shouted out, "The good Lord gave you hips, why don't you use them?"
So in his honor (where are you, John? Did you settle in the Dominican Republic, or go back to Punxsutawney? Are you in New York and I will bump into you in a cafe, the way we used to in Manizales, Colombia?), I think I may finally honor his request.
posted by Martha @ 8:10 AM
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