Let It Snow
It's official, we are currently experiencing the first VT snowfall of the season, and it's so beautiful. Some party poopers don't like snow, which I can't understand. I'm so happy!
On another note, I'm dedicating this entry to my college essay. I'm pretty sure I'm finished with it, but I'll post it so people can leave comments. Hope you enjoy!
SHOUT
Whenever the subject of weddings comes up among my gossiping mid-western aunties, someone remembers me, at the age of six, dancing to “Shout” at my cousin Tammy’s wedding. It’s a moment that, when I think about it, expresses who I am, a girl who loves and needs to perform. Inside me is a little girl in a frilly dress, throwin’ her head back and kickin’ her heels up on an empty dance floor.
The item that made the evening for me was my dress. It was the kind of dress any little girl would dream of. It was white with a sailor style collar, topped with a large blue bow. There were double blue stripes around the collar, hem, waist, and sleeves. Anne Shirley would have envied the puffed sleeves. Yards and yards of netting hid under the surface to puff out the skirt. The real splendor of the crinoline became apparent only when twirling. The whole skirt became a blue trimmed parasol, spun in delicately gloved hands. Yes, twirling was the highlighted feature of the dress.
When we arrived at the reception I was shy at first, as any six-year-old would be finding herself surrounded by strange adults. After endless introductions to relatives I didn’t know I had, and the ceremonial cutting of the cake, people began filing onto the dance floor. As the music began to pick up I felt the itch to dance, to perform. My shyness melted away, my need for attention and fun called to me. I had to answer.
On the dance floor I was having the time of my life. Occasionally I would pull off such a tremendous twist that the web of netting beneath my skirts was revealed, allowing all inquiring minds to know the secret behind my impressive twirls. As the evening wore on the adults began to lose their stamina and slowly started returning to their seats. By the time “Shout” came on I was one of few left on the dance floor. As I began to dance, the people who remained backed away, and I was alone in the spotlight.
I became intensely aware of the tap tapping of my shoes on the parquet floor, the whish of my skirts as I twisted around, and the bouncing of my soft bobbed hair as I jumped and turned on the dance floor. I let the lyrics of the Isley brothers control my body. I was throwin’ my hands up, throwin’ my head back, and kickin’ my heels up to beat the band.
After the applause died down and the next song started up people began to dance again and my moment of glory was over, but not forgotten. Part of me will always be that girl. Always performing. Always an individual. Always dancing to my own tune. Always twirling.
so that's it. please leave your comments. i would love input!
~C
On another note, I'm dedicating this entry to my college essay. I'm pretty sure I'm finished with it, but I'll post it so people can leave comments. Hope you enjoy!
SHOUT
Whenever the subject of weddings comes up among my gossiping mid-western aunties, someone remembers me, at the age of six, dancing to “Shout” at my cousin Tammy’s wedding. It’s a moment that, when I think about it, expresses who I am, a girl who loves and needs to perform. Inside me is a little girl in a frilly dress, throwin’ her head back and kickin’ her heels up on an empty dance floor.
The item that made the evening for me was my dress. It was the kind of dress any little girl would dream of. It was white with a sailor style collar, topped with a large blue bow. There were double blue stripes around the collar, hem, waist, and sleeves. Anne Shirley would have envied the puffed sleeves. Yards and yards of netting hid under the surface to puff out the skirt. The real splendor of the crinoline became apparent only when twirling. The whole skirt became a blue trimmed parasol, spun in delicately gloved hands. Yes, twirling was the highlighted feature of the dress.
When we arrived at the reception I was shy at first, as any six-year-old would be finding herself surrounded by strange adults. After endless introductions to relatives I didn’t know I had, and the ceremonial cutting of the cake, people began filing onto the dance floor. As the music began to pick up I felt the itch to dance, to perform. My shyness melted away, my need for attention and fun called to me. I had to answer.
On the dance floor I was having the time of my life. Occasionally I would pull off such a tremendous twist that the web of netting beneath my skirts was revealed, allowing all inquiring minds to know the secret behind my impressive twirls. As the evening wore on the adults began to lose their stamina and slowly started returning to their seats. By the time “Shout” came on I was one of few left on the dance floor. As I began to dance, the people who remained backed away, and I was alone in the spotlight.
I became intensely aware of the tap tapping of my shoes on the parquet floor, the whish of my skirts as I twisted around, and the bouncing of my soft bobbed hair as I jumped and turned on the dance floor. I let the lyrics of the Isley brothers control my body. I was throwin’ my hands up, throwin’ my head back, and kickin’ my heels up to beat the band.
After the applause died down and the next song started up people began to dance again and my moment of glory was over, but not forgotten. Part of me will always be that girl. Always performing. Always an individual. Always dancing to my own tune. Always twirling.
so that's it. please leave your comments. i would love input!
~C