so when i was a kid, i took dance lessions. ballet, tap, and jazz from roughly the ages of 9-13 (MomCat, correct me if i'm wrong here - i'm ballparking).
this morning, i was thinking of one particular year when i was probably 10 or 11. at the end of every year we had a recital, of course, and this year was no different. my group did our tap routine to "dixieland." our costumes were soldier uniforms.
now, hold on. they weren't gray uniforms - i sigh with relief that whoever dreamed up this little song/costume combination was not that wrong in the head. the uniforms were red and black - kinda like toy soldiers, or british redcoats - and didn't even slightly resemble the outfits of those fighting "the war of northern aggression." however, the reality of the fact that at 10 years old, i did a tap dance number to the theme song of the confederacy cannot be denied. the reality of the fact that now, 15 years later, there are some sunday mornings that i absentmindedly hum in dixieland where i was born and shuffle-bal-step my way across the kitchen is also not lost on me.
i think i'm going to go to the gym, lift some weights, and ponder the way that this has affected my psyche.
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3 comments:
You are a crack head. I mean this in the most loving way. But it is undeniably true that you need a hobby. Besides this one of course...
to be fair, i laughed out loud 2 or 3 times just while composing this post...
This is coming from the girl who tells me that _I_ need to stop overanalyzing things.
Let me echo Lola here...with a twist: maybe you need to get back into dance ;-)
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