This is one of my favorite old photos of myself that I will share with you. It brings back a lot of memories for me, such as...
1. It was taken in our first house, before my mom got re-married; it was our bachelorette pad.
2. Those elasticized sleeves were annoying as hell. They were really tight and felt like itchy, deflated personal flotation devices.
3. I loved my tutu. I loved all of my tutus. When I graduated to the level in ballet where we had to wear wrap around skirts instead of tutus, I was throughly disappointed.
4. Apparently, at the recital, I pushed the girl beside me off the stage because she wasn't doing the routine properly. If I was to re-enact the scene, it would have gone something like this:
"Pssst. You're not doing your Grand Plié right! You are making us look bad."
"Leave me alone. I'm trying to concentrate on my Demi Detourné."
"You're not succeeding. You suck. And so does your Port de bras."
"Waaaa. Stop picking on me. I'm only 5! I'm doing the best I can."
"I'm 5 too; that's no excuse. Your best just isn't good enough."
"I'm going to tell on you. You're mean!"
"That's not mean, honey. THIS is mean..." And then I give the silly little bitch a quick shove off the stage. She was cramping my style.
Besides, I'm pretty sure that I was destined to work center stage as a solo act, even if I did it in a tacky, brown polyester/satin blend costume, handmade by my mother. We all have to start somewhere, right?
AGENT! WHERE'S MY AGENT?
This post is for Monday Memory