Sunday, October 31, 2010

No Matter How Good You Are. . .

 I do NOT recommend ice-dancing to Shedrick by Mykola Leontovich.  I think I would have died, if I could have.  I crashed to the ice as the ten-minute speedy instrumental came to a close, got myself hauled up, and carried off said ice over my mentor's shoulders; too rung out even argue.

Bein' kinda short, and kinda light-weight can come in handy for some things where gymnastics are called for, but other times it does me a disadvantage. 

Never mind the names I got called.

But at least he (Yes, HE!!!!!!!!!!!!!  I've become rather open-minded on some things rather early in the game, despite my innate tendencies which apparently weren't too ingrained.) made it up to me. . .WITH the help of the other. . .who. . .um. . .could also sling me over her shoulders, though not as dead weight, and only with my full cooperation.

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