Homicidal balletophiles
I get it. I never got it before, but I completely get it.
Everyone sucks but me. Particularly toe-pointing nazis with saggy triceps. Second week of ballet classes, and I'll admit, I love them. The technique is refreshing, unique muscle groups are engaged and I've even adopted an appreciation for the mellow elevator-esque tunes.
However within the mirrored walls, I've also discovered my new arch nemesis. Its name is Ali, and she is our "choreographer's aid". To be reasonable, she hasn't done much to provoke my unlimited wrath. She just opened her flapping, oversized mouth and spewed out what I consider to be pure venom regarding my favourite living person. This preschool twit had the audacity to comment on Mrs. Poulsen's extent of expertise, saying that she "had a lot to learn." And in the middle of my second ever ballet class, I had to restrain myself from shase-ing over to her dumpy ass and knocking out at least three of her permanent teeth.
This comment was made right after Mrs. Candy (whom I, until recently, respected) commented on the Children in Dance organization, sneeringly remarking that they were indeed children in dance. I'm couldn't believe that she could say such a thing. I've truly lived a sheltered dance life, and I'm only now realizing how very lucky I am to have studied under Betty's benevolence. I could say so much...but it's not necessary. I'll never forget my first mentor. She's my Yoda; you don't need to leave yourself electronic post-its in order to remember the affect your Yoda had.
I can't believe this. I couldn't even twitch at the deaths of people I knew and loved dearly. But this is my last year with Betty, and eventually I will leave her. I almost bawled driving home just thinking about that.
Everyone sucks but me. Particularly toe-pointing nazis with saggy triceps. Second week of ballet classes, and I'll admit, I love them. The technique is refreshing, unique muscle groups are engaged and I've even adopted an appreciation for the mellow elevator-esque tunes.
However within the mirrored walls, I've also discovered my new arch nemesis. Its name is Ali, and she is our "choreographer's aid". To be reasonable, she hasn't done much to provoke my unlimited wrath. She just opened her flapping, oversized mouth and spewed out what I consider to be pure venom regarding my favourite living person. This preschool twit had the audacity to comment on Mrs. Poulsen's extent of expertise, saying that she "had a lot to learn." And in the middle of my second ever ballet class, I had to restrain myself from shase-ing over to her dumpy ass and knocking out at least three of her permanent teeth.
This comment was made right after Mrs. Candy (whom I, until recently, respected) commented on the Children in Dance organization, sneeringly remarking that they were indeed children in dance. I'm couldn't believe that she could say such a thing. I've truly lived a sheltered dance life, and I'm only now realizing how very lucky I am to have studied under Betty's benevolence. I could say so much...but it's not necessary. I'll never forget my first mentor. She's my Yoda; you don't need to leave yourself electronic post-its in order to remember the affect your Yoda had.
I can't believe this. I couldn't even twitch at the deaths of people I knew and loved dearly. But this is my last year with Betty, and eventually I will leave her. I almost bawled driving home just thinking about that.