when i grow up

if i could, i would be
a ballerina when i grow up.


i was trying on my pointe shoes yesterday
for fun and it made me remember that.

i love being ballerina-graceful; but i dont know if i have the neck for it. its not quite long enough. and i weigh too much. and im horribly out of practice. and i wonder why my body isnt quite the same on both sides. my right hand is prettier, and my right foot is pointier, but i like my left side, leg and ankle better than their opposing members. probably my left sholder is prettier too. confusing.
and i watched this ballet program too, and it was so amazingly awesome. i wish i could do it. i dont think i want to do it forever, but i want to be able to.

its paritially cause im scared to be a writer, you know. im not so scared of ballet. [i cant do ballet that well, but i love it.] its cause you get that good ache all over after you do it, like after you work a really good, hard shift at work.
and i like having something to make perfect: ballet, choir, writing, cleaning.
writing is more worrisome; perfection is difficult to come by, you know.
i cant decide if polished is perfect, or just cozy. or perfectly cozy, or cozily perfect. or cozily growing. you know. im inclined to think cozily growing; and lets hope so anyway.
[growing up properly and wonderfully is a scary thing too. oh, and i learned about eggs, speaking of growing things.]

plus also, knowledge without action gets me nowhere. forgiveness without love doesnt get me very far either; and neither does dancing without grace, nor writing without editing.
[ i need to get up off my derriere ] [even if it is just to watch fireworks and bake cookies. baby steps, baby steps.]

and: [ the stars are far away, she said ] [but fireworks are closer. tonight my sisters and i and a ten-year-old-slumber-party friend watched fireworks at the park down the street in the neighbors driveway. we were the block party, and we had a good, ghetto time. and: more fireworks tomorrow. fireworks are practically my mostest favoritest thing the whole year. well, my at least my almost favoritest thing all of july.]

yes, things happen, i suppose.

Posted 7/3/2005 10:27 PM