here we go.
dance! i'm surprised to hear myself say it and type it, but it was fun! i'm glad dance has started back up again.
okay, so the past two weeks sucked. i got into four arguments, was sick for two weeks and still am, and i was just generally down. dance picked me up! along with some people, like jenni, and brianne, and tayrn, and miss v, even!
okay, so today was the first day of the "dress code," right? right. so i go in wearing a long sleeved shirt (this year's STUDIO SHIRT, i might add) and sweats two inches longer than "the code" demands. but i'm thinking, "hey! it's just boys ballet and then tap! who cares about the dress code today. it doesn't matter."
boy, was i wrong.
we go into ballet. miss v's like, "get up. we have technique today." we're all like, "aww..." and it was even a day all the guys were there (even abby!) so we all stand up and go to the bar and miss v's about to start class when...
the door busts open and miss julie stomps in.
"checking the dress code!" <---- four words you never want to hear while wearing a long-sleeved, un-form-fitting t-shirt and sweats two inches longer than "the code" demands.
"let's see the pants. you're good, evan. good, nathan. good, jeremy. good, mike, good, vinnie. good, sean (his pants were too long as well, guess she missed it). andrew, your pants are too long. cut 'em off."
i struggled to hold my tongue.
"now the shirts." as if she couldn't have looked at them while she was looking at our pants. no, she wanted to embarrass me further, i'm sure. "good, vinnie. good, mike. good, nathan. good, sean. good, evan. good, jeremy. no long sleeved shirts."
that comment was to me, of course.
she turns to miss v. "andrew can take class today, but if he's not in good clothes on monday, kick him out."
and out she went. bah.
miss v: "don't be mad, andrew. i have scissors with me right now."
me: "i'm all right."
miss v: "don't get angry. you give me your pants and i take them home and cut them up nice for you."
me: "thanks, but no thanks."
okay, so then we had an hour of harem (no bragging here, but i think i rocked, 'spesh after the two weeks) but that's not important. blah blah blah, half-hour break, blah blah, teen tap, blah blah, ooh! here we go! another COOKIE story!
...dang. mom's calling. it's bed time. why the hell? it's EARLY. not even 11:30. this is stupid. oh well. only a year and a half left. then i'm out of the house. and it'll be nice. all right, i'll finish up tomorrow. weekends are nice.
~andrew. good night!
okay, so the past two weeks sucked. i got into four arguments, was sick for two weeks and still am, and i was just generally down. dance picked me up! along with some people, like jenni, and brianne, and tayrn, and miss v, even!
okay, so today was the first day of the "dress code," right? right. so i go in wearing a long sleeved shirt (this year's STUDIO SHIRT, i might add) and sweats two inches longer than "the code" demands. but i'm thinking, "hey! it's just boys ballet and then tap! who cares about the dress code today. it doesn't matter."
boy, was i wrong.
we go into ballet. miss v's like, "get up. we have technique today." we're all like, "aww..." and it was even a day all the guys were there (even abby!) so we all stand up and go to the bar and miss v's about to start class when...
the door busts open and miss julie stomps in.
"checking the dress code!" <---- four words you never want to hear while wearing a long-sleeved, un-form-fitting t-shirt and sweats two inches longer than "the code" demands.
"let's see the pants. you're good, evan. good, nathan. good, jeremy. good, mike, good, vinnie. good, sean (his pants were too long as well, guess she missed it). andrew, your pants are too long. cut 'em off."
i struggled to hold my tongue.
"now the shirts." as if she couldn't have looked at them while she was looking at our pants. no, she wanted to embarrass me further, i'm sure. "good, vinnie. good, mike. good, nathan. good, sean. good, evan. good, jeremy. no long sleeved shirts."
that comment was to me, of course.
she turns to miss v. "andrew can take class today, but if he's not in good clothes on monday, kick him out."
and out she went. bah.
miss v: "don't be mad, andrew. i have scissors with me right now."
me: "i'm all right."
miss v: "don't get angry. you give me your pants and i take them home and cut them up nice for you."
me: "thanks, but no thanks."
okay, so then we had an hour of harem (no bragging here, but i think i rocked, 'spesh after the two weeks) but that's not important. blah blah blah, half-hour break, blah blah, teen tap, blah blah, ooh! here we go! another COOKIE story!
...dang. mom's calling. it's bed time. why the hell? it's EARLY. not even 11:30. this is stupid. oh well. only a year and a half left. then i'm out of the house. and it'll be nice. all right, i'll finish up tomorrow. weekends are nice.
~andrew. good night!