dance

I danced for a long time before I realized that I wasn't cut out to be a dancer. Seriously, like, a lot of years. I just love it SOO much that I don't want to admit that I'm just not good. Now that I'm not dancing, I miss it. I miss it so much, in fact, that every week while I watch So You Think You Can Dance, I cry. Every week. I have every single episode saved and I have three favorite dances (Travis' If It Kills Me from last week, Battlefield from this week and the breast cancer one from this week) that I have watched fifteen times in the past 48 hours. That is, sadly, not an exaggeration. And last week, there were different dances that I watched over and over and over. And every time I cry. Every. Single. Time. I so wish that dance was one of those things that if you tried hard enough you could just be good at it. But it isn't. I wish I could start dancing now and get to be good enough at it. But I can't. And so I cry every Wednesday night for two hours while I watch a slowly declining number of dancers be something that I wish that I could be.

On a totally separate note, I dropped a five pound weight on my foot yesterday. It really hurts. And my foot is very bruised.