Working class hero

[itsallovernow]

Driving to ballet on Saturday morning, and trying to ignore how many Saturday morning of my life have been spent going to ballet class. The little girls have it better now. Leotards come with built-in tutus and thereby the ultimate fantasy is realized. Little girls don't want to pirouette. They want the clothes, dammit. Ok, that's not entirely true, but it's a major part of it and the horror, as you get older of being forced to wear pink tights, a black leotard, pink shoes and leg warmers only if you have a really lenient instructor is such a blow. I wanted a tutu. And a crown and we only got those once a year and I was too tall and had to stand in the back! My experience as an adult, being in the Nutcracker, being the world's tallest snowflake, was a little different. I've lost the desire to look like a fairy princess, becaue mostly I just look absured in the tulle and snowflake crown (although I love the crown and would wear it around the house to the disgust of M. I have a collection. Someone got me a seashell crown to match:) and all I wanted was to dye the tutu and corset black. I sew my pointe shoes with blue thread because they're my shoes! And I'm not gonna be a prima ballerina. That was decided when I was eight and too tall and too fat anyway. My ballet teacher wonders why I didn't work harder to be a Broadway dancer or a Rockette, but she made it, danced in Europe, is petite with perfect feet, and doesn't get, or maybe she does, that when you wanted to be a ballerina and couldn't, nothing else lived up to the dream, and now that I realize that being a Rockette would have, well rocked (hee hee), I'm now too old and too fat:) You never let go of the dream completely though, and so I troop to class on Saturday morning and Tuesday night with my beat up pointe shoes and their little ants marching across vibe from the blue thread.

The belly dancing is something I love, something unexpected. It's sexy and quick, alternately languid and sensual and drummingly sharp. I get to be a professional dancer, although not the way I ever imagined it, and when we put on the costumes, did the Arabian dance in The Nutcracker, we brought down the house and I didn't have to tell anyone I was the world's tallest snowflake trying desperately not to hit the curtains.


However, driving to ballet, wishing it wasn't so bloody early in the morning, and Scott Simon was interviewing Yoko Ono on All Things Considered. December 8th, and I meant to mark the day yesterday. Am ashamed that I didn't. It's always hard to believe that people can destroy beautiful things, meaningful things. Book burning has always made me cry, the guy who smashed La Pieta, and of course John Lennon. I'm not gonna talk about the politicians, the leaders who were killed for their beliefs because it's different, in a way. Or maybe it's not and that's the tragedy. But, a day late, I wanted to pay a little tribute. Say that he was loved and he is missed.

I don't know that I could isolate a favorite Beatles song, or a favorite John Lennon Song. Maybe "A Day in the Life," or "She's Leaving Home", "Imagine" gets the tearducts flowing as well, but it's hard to say for sure. So, other favorites out there? A little thank you to John?

Huge hugs to crankygrrl. I think she needs 'em.

Also, it's seems like all the other fandoms are doing things to celebrate the holidays. Any interest in a holiday challenge, or exchange or something? We could celebrate whitelight1's addiction to sappy holiday movies:) Or wreck the holiday season in true Farscape style:) (And notice that I don't offer any sort of practical suggestion, nor do I go too far out of my way to discover if this is happening elsewhere and I'm just too lazy to find it;) And I also refrained from offering a SACOC challenge of getting John naked except for a Santa hat. Oh, wait, did I say that outloud? Anyway, just a thought.

I like the "What's Your Story" question. It seems properly reflective, and it would be interesting to see what other people say in response. Does my interpretation of the story I tell again and again match up with the themes the reader picks up? I think most of my stories are about the things left unsaid, miscommunications and forgiveness and what it takes to get to trust. Those unspoken, untangible things that connect us and keep us together, and sometimes push us apart. Of course, as most of my posted work is only rubbing noses with plot, I guess it'd be hard to decipher the story. I mean sex is certainly a theme, but I don't know that it's a story:) Family, I guess and the unexpectedness of it.

Oh, and suelac posted two farscapefriday drabbles and they're gorgeous. All of the drabbles last week were fantastic, actually.