I like dance. Really. This little runner kickboxer likes to strut her stuff.... usually in the living room while The Boy and The Man go to family Martial Arts. Plug the iPod in the Bose speaker system... and well... don't picture it you'll go blind. Trust me: I have back and front and side... both of them.
Today's weapon of choice Black Mambo by Angel and the Mambokats. Seriously cool. I swear I look like Heidi from last season's So You Think You Can Dance. (MuchMusic replayed the series, that I, in my ban on network TV missed the first time around.) How much did that routine kick ass... But yeah... I look just. like. that. Except I reckon I'm a few inches taller than she is, and definitely have a good 60 pounds on her... and well, she really is a tremendous dancer ... fearles... ok maybe she's not like me at all. But this girl has her dreams... and how much do I love Benji... ooooooooh the guilty pleasures. Dancers.
So I danced... and thought about the fox trot, and the rumba -- aaaaaaaah... how much do I love to rumba. Quick Quick slow... and pondered what would have to happen to make Violet by Hole a kicken' swing piece. (Yeah.. it's a bit out there I'll admit.) Just let the rhythm of it all take you away... I promise myself that I will check out the salsa studio up the street when The Man finds work.
I miss the runs for this... the solitude. But with my body STILL not over the last long run, and throat. lungs and all that... really the best course of action is to rest. But I can dance... in short burst... at least it is movement... and well, it is tres tres tres fun. But it is short lived. There is dinner to make, and stuff to do... but the music is on. And the bubble surrounds me.
The Boys come home, and we eat. And The Boy goes to bed, and I cuddle on the couch, and must perform night time snuggle duties... still in my bubble. I want to stay in the bubble.
But The Boy is up again. His hives are back. And I'm not sure what is causing them. We take allergy medicine. I change his sheets.
He barfs... On me. Yuck. Reality is such a drag.
He is still coughing.
Fuck. Me.
The bubble bursts...
Guess we have to take it from the Top...
