Renaissance Girl

I'm not sure what's happened since I last posted. I'm in that weird summer space where I've lost track of what day it is, or what exactly happened yesterday or the day before, or when anything went on.
I've felt a little useless lately. I've been realizing how many of my summer goals I didn't actually accomplish (get more flexible, learn to play the guitar, for example)... and although I did acomplish some of them--& believe me, some of those turned out quite well, & don't think I'm complaining because I've enjoyed this summer terribly--but I'm still fighting with my annoyance with myself for not being harder on myself. 'Cause I really should be. Harder on myself, I mean. I give myself too much slack.
No more. I have almost exactly a month before school starts (& God, I am so torn over that), & I know exactly what I want to do. I just have to do it.

I am helping Amanda & Carol with the kidlings' Midsummer this week, which will alliviate much of my uselessness. Man, those kids are nuts. There's sixteen of them, & it feels like thirty. The only one I knew from before is Anthony; & it's like almost every group of theater kids that age: there's a set of older girls, who are pals & can handle stuff you throw at them; there's a couple boys who are always horsing around with each other; there's a few younger, quiet, soft girls who are nearly impossible to tell apart; there are the couple of younger, curly little boys who are earnest & adorable; the one loud, energetic tomboy; & there's at least one utter handful (she seems okay, though--easy to get back in line, just a little loud). It should be fun, I think. Plus I get to work with Amanda, which is good, as I never got to before.

& tonight was my last tap class of the summer. Man, I'm gonna miss that. Maybe I can get my Mum to pay for the fall classes, because now that I've started again I really don't want to quit. I want to stretch & work out so I can learn the crazier moves, & I want to make time to really practice the fundamentals & improve my balance & the steps I just can't seem to get right. I want wild arms & snappy riffs & sparkly top hats. (Well, not sparkly top hats. Well. Maybe a few sparkly top hats.)

Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear meeeeee--happy birthday to me!

There. Now that that egotistical tribute is over with...:)

D. and I went to the Melting Pot for dinner, had cheese and salads and dessert. Such good food there! And then we stood around on Queen Anne waiting for the bus, and a posse (well, three) guys were being terribly obnoxious. They might have been attractive except that they were really very drunk and very high. And obnoxious. It was funny and annoying at the same time--lordy, they were so far gone...
"Can I see your shooooes?" says the one who's hitting on D. the most (we're carrying our salsa shoes and wearing flipflops, and gawd was it cold that way). "You have beautiful fingernails," he says. "And beautiful earlobes."
"And beautiful holes in her ears," says drunk-and-high-guy number two. (D-and-h-g number three, I think, was too far gone for conversation.)

We made it to the salsa club unscathed however, and it was fabulous...not a lot of people there, but enough; I remembered how to move to the music (which I never really forget anyhow) which is the important part.
Also, *squee* for getting asked to dance first thing off, which is a very happy feeling and I don't care how silly I sound, hah. Other dance partners not so good--guys, take note: don't manhandle your girls on the turns, and don't make the turns every other move of the dance, and don't turn them six times every time, mmmkay? I was very, very dizzy.
But John taught me how to cha-cha, so now I know (well, mostly; I know if I'm being led), and we salsa'ed (that is really not correct grammar, and hurrah again for dancing with guys who know what they're doing (and aren't creepy, haha. Are actually rather cute. Hee).

And now I am so terribly tired and probably still dizzy or something, so I am going to sleeeeeeeeep, because tomorrow morning I is cleaning the room and we is packing our thingses and we is going away for spring break, haha!

So, ya know, call me at home if you want to do something. Or email me. Or comment here. You know the drill. Love you all lots my dears [here is where, if I weren't so tired, I would say something cheesy about my eighteenth year being the better for knowing you all, etc. etc., but it's probably a good thing for your aesthetic sensibilities that I don't,'cause my prose is really not up to snuff, so there].

(I don't even want to look over the grammar of that post. I'm sure it's whacked. Wheeeee!)