I love it more than running.
There, I said it.
I am on call for some of the nursing homes but I still managed to make it to beginner/intermediate jazz class at the dance factory. It was taken by the pretty guy, not Carnie the peppy blonde. It was fun, and I actually feel like a dancer. The pain from the pulled muscle in my shoulder just went away. The pain in my tooth went away too. I can truly be me. And I have developed enough self-confidence that if I fluff a move or look like a spazz (sorry) I can laugh it off.
I will also do some beginners contemporary classes at chunky move. Good name for a dance studio. Sort of removes the whole vision of sinewy ballerinas with sharp cheekbones, rippling calves and tight topknots.
I had stage three of root canal yesterday. One freaking tooth to cost about 2500 bux! Plus other fillings! Note to self – floss and visit dentist regularly!!!
Tonight I am off to a 40th birthday party. Am looking forward to it. Don’t want to guts myself though.
Last night I went to a little Sicilian restaurant near my joint that has just opened up, called Bar Idda. It was great! Subtle north African accents. And a to die for hot chocolate and pistachio gelati to have for afters (shared of course)
Have not even weighed myself recently. It fucks with my head.