It's nice to leave my hometown and all of its baggage behind, and start in a new place. To be seen as I am and not as I was, or like other people said I was. It's kind of important, since my personality is probably kind of different in some ways than it was 5 years ago and more similar to the way I was 20 years ago. For one, I am not so eager to please. Also, I am much more publicly obnoxious. And, since really investing myself in dance, I'm a lot more aware of my body, how it looks, how it moves. Still haven't mastered blue eyeshadow, though; I always feel kind of stupid wearing it.
This Saturday was the last meeting of the Breakfast Club at our favorite french-toast infested haunt, Burgers & Benedicts... Which is going out of business! Waaaah! Where will I find a similar uber-buttery maple drenched confection? Anyway, I ate my fill for the final time, and then Manasvi and I went... Clothes shopping! For like three hours. I bought a giant pink wool poncho. It's hard for me to describe what a relief the whole experience was for me. It's almost like it's taken me this long to rediscover that it's okay and awesome for me to be the goofy, sometimes awkward, intense and incredibly silly person that I am. I'm remembering what it's like to like something funny-looking, out-of-fashion or conspicuous and actually go for it because, hey, I like it, and who gives a fuck? Certainly not my friends, and certainly not my husband.
And then, after two hours of really incredible dance practice in the afternoon, Caspian and I spent the evening over at the home of Manasvi and her man up on the Plateau, eating pistachios and fruit and apricot-stuffed, bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin and going to the grocery store multiple times, all in the middle of watching Super Troopers on Netflix. The Germans are my favorite.
And today, after a stupid, idiotic argument with Caspian that had more to do with my personal moodiness than any real problem, I called up Felix, sobbing, and asked him to talk to me about his life and his day because just listening to him and his silly, charming half-English makes me calm, just like it does after a tough practice or critical lesson. Not to mention he's seen me burst into tears a bazillion times and whispered stupid nonsense things to me in French that you say to soothe old milkcows and I don't have to worry about that awkwardness. Ha.
Having fascinating and intelligent like-minded people to go on hours-long shopping expeditions with and watch full frontal nudity with and sob on the phone at... Priceless.
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