Turn, Turn, Turn (and Turn)

Day Thirteen…

Fail. But fun!

Task Thirteen: 4 consecutive pirouettes.

My legs hurt. I was reminded of muscles I have that evidently don’t get sufficient use since, most days, I no longer try to turn 4 consecutive pirouettes. I knew it wasn’t likely to be terribly graceful, but I really didn’t think it would be all that difficult if I just tried a few times. I mean, I turn around all the time; usually right after I’ve walked into a room and can’t remember why the hell I’m there. I came close a couple of times — made it to 3, in fact. But then I’d have to put my foot down to maintain my balance and then my knees started to hurt… What can I say? There’s a reason most ballerinas are done before 30.

When I was a kid I thought it would be so great to be a dancer. It was the one profession that was recurring in the long list of what I wanted to be when I grew up. Ballet was never really my forté. I studied it some and I love to watch it. But no, I wanted to be a Rockette — and then a Solid Gold Dancer and then back-up for Janet Jackson (hey, when I was 3 I wanted to be God so this is coming back to reality). I was, in fact, crushed when a doctor told me I’d never be able to be a professional dancer (too tall, bad knees). I literally felt like the sky itself was raining down around me. Looking back, I realize I wasn’t crushed so much because of my love of dancing, but due to the aforementioned lack of knowing what I wanted to be when I grew up. I was not blessed with that luxury of having my path in life all figured out by age 12. In fact I still don’t know, but ballerina is now definitely off the list.

Today I’ve been attempting to relearn the Greek alphabet. I have no idea why. I think because my very dear friends are taking off for Greece next weekend without me and I’m attempting to refocus my insane jealousy.

I know, once again not the most profound prose. But I’m at work and the Warriors are winning and at least I didn’t miss another! Yet…

And hey, tomorrow’s Friday!