Wandering around Ikea felt like another breath of fresh air. No doubt next week I’ll be back to my normal Saturday, but again, it was just something different. I had been putting off the second CD tower for months, so it was as good a time as any since it coincided with the massive cleanout. I even got some drawer organizers which is awesome.
Flamenco in the afternoon was a bit of a downer. I got reprimanded for answering back to a derogatory comment a classmate made last week. The only thing recalled was, obviously, my biting retort. The classmate’s comment was, when asked to demonstrate something that involved lifting the skirt high, that she’d see my underwear. I said, very calmly, that it’s obvious I wear stockings and leotards, and she went on about my not wearing any underwear. What are we, 12?
It made me stop and wonder whether I should carry on with this class or go one grade back. At least I won’t have to put up with such comments and constantly being pushed to the front just because some think I know the work, when, just like them, I’m still learning.
Then again, wherever you go, there’s bound to be a douchebag or two present. I know I also need to understand some don’t see dressing appropriately for dance as a necessity, whereas I’ve had it hammered into my brain since forever.
Quitting isn’t an option. I’ve had that ‘off’ feeling for a while, of course, but I’ve invested far too much time and money to quit just because of someone who spends most of the class whining along the lines of, “I can’t do it,” “I hate this exercise”, “It’s too hard,” and “Castanets are very easy to master.”
No, seriously, the last one. My jaw fell to the floor, and thankfully I was still smarting from the reprimand so my mouth’s autopilot was on disconnect. Holy jeebus. Castanets are very easy to master?! Tell that to Madame Principal, a castanets virtuoso, why don’t you. Bet you her reply’s going to sting more than anything I could ever come up with.
Whatever. I’ve got to keep going, regardless.
