Tuesday, February 21, 2012

pirouette

Like most girls who grew up with fairy tales and and geeky love of beauty, I wanted to be a ballerina when I was seven, before I realized that one needed a small build and more innate athleticism than what I was born with. My mom took me to see The Nutcracker which left me enthralled but after realizing that I looked goofy when I dance, I've reserved movement for times when I've been home alone or undulating with the flow of bodies in the mosh pit in my early twenties, a few awkward moments of social dance notwithstanding. It's one of those things I still appreciate but know better than to attempt.



Some of my friends in this world tell me tales of drama and unchecked egos, of waiting tables and lack of pay, and all kinds of duress that make the world seem much less romantic than it did when the other side was kept hidden.

1 comment:

  1. At least it's been confirmed that this fragment of society is just as screwy as all the other ones, if prettier.

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