People Who Appreciate Good Dancing, Stop Reading Now. People Who Want to Laugh at Me, Totally Keep Going.
Posted by Moose on September 20th, 2006. Filed under: Meat Suit.Know what happens when you agree to perform something with an Improv. Solo.? You manage to create gaping black holes in your cerebellum, exactly where that improv solo should be.
I have no idea what’s going on here. I seem to be shooting an invisible arrow, attempting to nudge it further toward its target with my foot.
Here I seem to be displaying my antlers.
Holy Lord of the Dance, look at that pigeon toe. Better than falling flat on my face (my other option), but only in the way that running into a tree with your car is better than running into a mailbox.
Did I break my wrist? What the hell is going on there?
See those musicians? They never played the same thing twice. That’s entertaining when you’re supposed to enter and exit the stage at specific times. “I guess I’m supposed to go now, this sounds sort of right.” Go. “Wait a minute, where’s everybody else? Why am I standing here alone under hot stage lights? Shit!” Run off.
I look like a Chia Pet. Or an woefully-misguided white girl with an afro.
I will get you, my pretty. But very slowly because I apparently split a seam and must slide toward you on my butt to hide the gaping hole.
Don’t let the manic smile fool you.
I will so punch your lights out.
What these pictures don’t show you is all the blood. Walking off stage, I’d look down to see the top of my foot covered in gore. Gross, yes, but sort of made me want a nice, rare steak.
Reaction ranged from “You were lovely” to “Boy, you’ve improved” to “Choose one positive adjective and smile a lot” to variations on the “Wow, after all those dance classes you take and this big fancy theatre, I really expected something better” theme. My zen-like wisdom and superior self-control allowed me to brush off any negativity, real or imagined, like a pesky bar fly and remain completely assured of my airy presence and Baryshnikov-like footwork.
How many of you just scoffed a “She’s so full of shit” under your breath? If so, you get an A+ for insight and reading comprehension. I have neither Baryshnikov-like footwork (unless one of you has a duck in your backyard named Mikhail) nor superior self-control. But, considering I only dance about three hours a week (even that’s stretching it on occasion), I did a darn good job – chia head, pigeon toe, and all. Plus, virtually everyone enjoyed my pigeon toes. Or they’re just really good liars.
I’d love to take five classes a day, perform every month and spend the rest of my time rationing out apples and perfecting my triceps, but reality keeps intruding on this cozy plan. Reality like, You need a job. In fact, you need a better job just to be able to continue paying for those two measly classes you already take. Why does reality insist on doing that? Suck it, reality.
Almost respectable. Except that I appear to have a dead bird hanging from my arm.
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September 20th, 2006 at 6:58 pm
Great dress though!!!!
September 20th, 2006 at 7:41 pm
You were magnificent and I’m not prejudiced! Anything taken out of context can be damaging. These poses lasted all of 1/2 a second! Only you have the ability to make fun of yourself in such an exceptional way. I’m
September 20th, 2006 at 7:56 pm
What you were? Fabulous, graceful, moving so fast you could hardly stop for the camera! And what you were not? That beetle dying in agony.
Little Dying Beetle Number
September 20th, 2006 at 9:29 pm
I agree. You were magnificent, and I’m DEFINITELY not prejudiced.
September 20th, 2006 at 11:05 pm
Moose, let me just say this
You impressed me, and some others, I might add here
you stood in front of others, you preformed, you took everything you had and have and showed the world. And you made good!
Your bog is something I read very often because it makes my day better! And tonight when I read and looked at the pictures you posted, All I could see was hard work, determination and trust put all down on the line, for people who come back to see. And for everyone who came back. I say to you
Thank you. And very well done!
September 21st, 2006 at 2:11 am
Holy crap. I laughed my ASS off at that dying beetle.
September 21st, 2006 at 2:12 am
(Also, if you click on that picture to the next one, then click back, then click forward again, then click back, you can watch the beetle wave its little dying legs.)
September 21st, 2006 at 7:08 am
And, I thought your writings about dance class was an elaborate fib…you do take them! Although a music download accompanying the photos would have been ideal, your commentary probably was it’s equal. Way to go and I’m impressed! Though, there may be something to be said for a dance improv of Kafka’s beetle meeting a can of Raid.
September 21st, 2006 at 10:46 am
Brave. You are so brave. I think you look v. graceful and lovely and dancery in the pictures!
September 21st, 2006 at 11:20 am
I’ve been reading (lurking) for awhile, but have been too shy to leave a comment. You had me laughing like a loon today, and my office mates think that I’ve lost it.
I say Bravo! You’re insanely brave to go out there, and I think you looked fantastic.
September 21st, 2006 at 2:29 pm
I totally want to make out with your back and upper arms. So strong! So lovely!
You got mad definition, yo’. Word.
September 21st, 2006 at 9:01 pm
pictures delightful, captions hilarious, i bow deeply in honor of your creativity and bravery.
September 21st, 2006 at 9:49 pm
Awwww! I think you look GORGEOUS! You’ve got lovely and graceful lines, dearest Moose!
Me, i’d be more the dying beetle. and i’m not ashamed for doing the forwardbackforward thing Schnozz recommended. It made me giggle, hysterically! Hahahahah!
February 12th, 2007 at 5:15 pm
o geez, amber. this posting just cracked me UP. you are waaaaaay too hard on yourself. i actually thought your dancing looked quite polished and confident. as our teacher has said before, you have nice lines and natural talent, so you already have a good leg-up on the rest of us. but i completely understand your trepidation re improv.solo – my feelings would be pretty much the same, except i wouldn’t be able to express my fears and insecurities in nearly as amusing a fashion.
October 18th, 2007 at 1:31 pm
[...] I used to dance. I will again, preferably after I shed all this nesting weight that has lowered my center of gravity to right around my ass, but for now I’m abstaining. Dance classes tend to involve corrections, loud corrections, corrections that sometimes get repeated because you didn’t correct it properly the first time. Dance is more subtle than, say, basketball. Your basketball coach probably doesn’t lose sleep over your form, so long as the ball goes through the little metal hoop. In dance you have to be doing 17 different things at once and they all have to be right, from the obvious (remembering the steps) to the not-as-obvious (keeping your tailbone pointed down, rather than straight out). You can be doing 16 things right, but if you miss the 17th you are WRONG. OH, SO VERY WRONG. [...]