GREAT WEEK. :)
even though i came nowhere near my distance target (too achy after thursday to run :(:(:() and living in the midst of 21st century life, i've got twenty-one thousand things that i need to do. ayg pracs became vastly more interesting (baby freezes courtesy of wei an, and a necknumbing rendition of his 'tombstone'/'graveyard' stunt-- whatever it's called, which left us all gaping in horror and reminded me horribly of wwe's undertaker. hurhur. and popping today, but tracy and i were practising steps elsewhere and didn't learn that. p.s. the girl got her shoes!)
dad's back from abu dhabi, with 500 bucks worth of running tops. who runs that much?? oooh and i got MY shoes. yayyy. and he got a canon sx100is as a parting gift; considering however that all the pictures he took in abu dhabi with my camera turned out to be videos instead i'm not sure how much good that's going to do him. HEE.
absolutely adored classes this week. am incredibly sad that i can no longer attend trinity's on wednesday because of busking prac :( kate's was very funny-- "do it for michael! full out for michael!" and her choreo made me find palatable a song i've always considered mildy wretched. adelene's was supremely no-link and unflowy, but good in the sense that it was challenging-- liked the song (nlt's let me know) anyhow. i sincerely hope that her video didn't capture my inadvertent oath of utter and complete frustration at the end.
lovely lovely lovely week. as the goo goo dolls would say, "god it's good to be alive"-- an alive i simply found impossible to believe that MJ no longer is. i think i just realised all over again the finality of this divide-- call as you will, mourn as you will, weep as you will, there is no negotiation or mitigating factor. no law is harsher than that of life and death's. there will be rose and rhododendron..., and all that-- oh, what the heck, good enough to quote more from:
oh, there will pass with your great passing
little of beauty not your own
only the light from common water
only the grace from simple stone.-- edna st. vincent millay. i hope i got it correct, my memory's not the best these days.
wandered down orchard road singing insane songs with brrr-boxer michelle after delightful quiznos sojourn with sullen macchiato and elzey frappe and "too much horseradish!" himbo. something about the girl inspires secret-spilling, or maybe it's the adage: that which is kept in secret grows in power. and i no longer wanted what i told her to have power over me.
argh enough it's evolved into a long winding post. next time next time. may tomorrow's performance be decent! i still need to do something to my slippery shoes, coke doesn't work.
blowing kisses 'cross the hour