Days 3 & 4: Excuse me, but the point of all this is not to “learn” things

Now that I’m a dancer and understand the pain that goes into preparing for a performance (yes, I am still hurting from Step, which was not helped by the lifting class I went to today that had me shaking all day long. Seriously. All day, I was twitching. Which you’d think would mean my muscles would be absolutely bulging right now with all the growing they did today, but instead they are just sore. So sore, in fact, I had to get off the phone with my sister because my phone was too heavy.) I thought I’d support my fellow dancers at The Trolley Dances, this ingenious project where dance troupes perform at different points along the light rail line. Very cool, right?

I went along by myself (LB was sick and honestly, I just didn’t have it in me to spend all day describing to LB the very real pain the dancers would feel after their performances. When they would be unable to lift their phones.) and ended up watching a Mexican dance and then a very abstract dance which featured a lot of dancing with suitcases, all of which was topped off by a dancing man-bird. I’m not sure how else to describe it. Basically, while we walked to the train stop, a guy dressed like a bird performed leaps and spins, culminating in a telephone pole dance that almost took out an unsuspecting lady who happened to be walking by. It looked like a whole lotta fun.

The idea was we’d then get on the train and head off to the next stop, which featured synchronized swimming (what a day, right?). So, I got on the train and sat down with an open seat next to me. And sat there for about five minutes waiting for everyone to board the train (still with the open seat by me) while all the other passengers around me talked and laughed with their friends. And I started to feel like I was back in 8th grade. And 8th grade really, really sucked. Except for Chad Kellogg, who was really cute and had great (albeit heavily gelled) hair. So, I got off the train.

And then, because I’m not 12 and solely concerned with whether or not my hair wings have fallen, I spent the next hour walking around the city, berating myself for not making more of an effort while wondering if maybe I’m not that much fun anymore and maybe this shows I don’t actually know how to “be myself”anymore and maybe, just maybe, if I’d smiled a bit more, or looked more friendly, or, I don’t know, pulled out my Step routine, or something, I’d still be there, laughing away, with my trolley-full of admirers.

You can see where this was going. I arrived back home thoroughly despondent and delivered LB the bad news – he actually had married a social outcast; my days of Friendly Kara were behind me; all he had to look forward to were long days of nothing fun, ever again. And you know what he said?  “Sounds like you weren’t having that good of a time; probably a good thing you left.” Wasn’t having a good time. Probably good I left. Damn.

And THAT is why I married this man.

PS – I have to say something very brief about Saturday’s Fun Project, which was lying in bed, reading (aka. Best Morning Ever). I finished up “Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie”, an absolutely delightful book. It reminds me a bit of the “No. 1 Ladies’ Detective” series in that you just can’t get enough of the main character, Flavia. Such a fun read for these chilly fall days.

Be Sociable, Share!

•