Hey there adoring fans (Mindy Dougherty Baida)!
So, you remember that day (Day 15: Ballet (the “T” is silent) specifically…you didn’t read day 15? You’re never going to become an adoring fan with that attitude…and if you’re not an adoring fan then what are you? Just a blog reader with no recognition…that’s like a barber hangin’ out with a bunch of bald guys…is it though Sarah?…that’s the best comparison you can come up with?…how about a hemorrhoid with no preparation H?…or better yet a hemorrhoid with no butt hole?…PS: you should probably stop talking about hemorrhoids…it makes people uncomfortable…now back to the story about the good thing you did to feel good about your life) that I got all ready to take ballet class and then the train was late (I spent too much time having my roommate take pictures of me) and I didn’t make it to class? Well, this time…
I finally made it to ballet class!
My friend Aleka told me about this ballet class that she takes on Saturday afternoons. Her pitch was “It’s a bunch of 70 year old women and me.” Which (sadly) was exactly what I was looking for (because although the rest of my body is at the ripe young age of 30, my right knee is circling the drain at the age of 105, so when you average it out, a geriatric ballet class plus 2 mimosas was the perfect decision).
After petite allegro (small, quick jumps that remind you that you probably should have taken a poop before class started…stop talking about poop…it’s making people think about hemorrhoids)…
After class (after a pitt stop at Duane Reade where you picked up an icepack….and a six-pack).
Moral of the story: You’re old and your body hates you. Going to they gym all of the time (once a week) is not going to give you your dancer body back and ballet actually makes you happy and happiness is what we’re going for right now. So, go to class more you fat f*ck.
See you next week Aleka (notice the under-boob-sweat. You’re welcome)!
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