For the next month, I will try to refrain from writing much about work at the store, because it will invariably sound like this:
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
That is to say, it's been a little busy. There is no time to think or use the restroom or panic, only ballet shoes, jazz shoes, and tap shoes. And the occasional ballroom shoe.
So, other things:
Today we Austin Dance Company teachers and staff had our headshots taken! They were done by Brenda Ladd in her home studio, which is beautiful. There is a little kitchen. If I ever get to build a dance studio at my home, remind me that I want a little kitchen. We each did individual shots, then a few group pictures, which were really fun. At one point Brenda opened the door behind her while she was taking pictures. And outside in the backyard were chickens! Little guys. So cute. So of course I yelled "there are chickens here!" and before I knew it, click: a picture of everyone perfectly and serenely posed around Carissa, me looking like a wild woman with my huge mouth all the way open, mid "chickens!"
Also present at the photo shoot were Carissa's adorable daughters, newborn Finley and 2-year-old Charlotte. Charlotte spent most of the evening playing with a bag of un-inflated balloons. She counted them for us: "One, two, three, four, nine, ten, eleven."
Oh, and we discovered that, rather than "one-two-three" click, dance teachers respond well to "five-six-seven-eight" click when being photographed.
After the photo session, I found my way to Waterloo Records downtown. This (finding the place without getting terribly lost) is really an achievement for me, since I never go downtown. I've had a gift certificate to Waterloo since March, but haven't had a single day when I've been anywhere nearby to stop in. But tonight I was already down South, and Travis was at frisbee anyway, so I went and browsed around and tried to find something to buy with my gift certificate that wouldn't make the record store salespeople scoff/snicker/cry. Because a lot of my music purchases are geared toward the 5-year-old dance class set, I usually go for things like "Disney's Super Sweet Summer Party Collection Volume 18!" It took at least an hour, but I came away with the new albums from Matt&Kim and Beirut. Neither of them contain songs called "Get up and Dance," "Butterfly Rock," or "Mickey's Hula," so I think I'm good. Maybe I should sell my song name ideas . . . I really think my students would love a song called "Butterfly Rock!" (If, of course, it lived up to the title)
Yesterday we went to Richard and Daniel's family party for their 8th birthday, which was on Saturday. Pictures to follow.
Okay, one story about work: today I was in the backroom, frantically rummaging around for shoes that would fit a customer with very wide feet, and I told Danielle I had just been on the phone with a customer who told me that her toes were numb from a pair of our ballroom shoes. My thought was that, yeah, that happens. You dance, you sacrifice your feet. They will get deformed and probably permanently damaged and you should sort of be proud of that. Danielle's response, however, was a little shorter: "I hate people . . ."
I kept waiting for the "who ____," but it never came. Just "I hate people." Awesome.
p.s. I love people, and I probably really love you!
7 comments:
And I probably love you! I probably love the things you write, even though English is only your second language. I probably am totally amused by saying five-six-seven-eight before taking a picture of dancers.
And I probably REALLY want some chickens. Mom was getting close to biting on that one... but now I'm moving out. In Seattle one is allowed to keep three chickens. And a goat. I'm going to talk to the other resident of my duplex about this. If she balks, I'm going to plant lots of invasive blackberry bushes and morning glory vines so she'll HAVE to cave because a goat is the only way to manage them!
Hey Jeannie, remember when that goat tried to eat my shorts? When we went on safari....
Also, speaking of kids counting, were you there when Ethan made that funny joke about counting to one? Mia was counting to a hundred and so Ethan was like "I can count to one! Wanna hear me count to one?" and then I would say "yeah, let's hear you count to one," and then he would say "one!" and fold his arms smugly and laugh his little head off. Here's hopin' we get to see that kid again soon. You could teach him and his sisters the Butterfly Rock.
Lisa. I started laughing out loud at the invasive bushes and didn't stop for several minutes, especially when you got to the part about counting to one. That kid is totally going to be the quiet guy in the back of the class who tells way funnier jokes than the class clown, but in a voice that only a few people can hear.
And then he karate chops the people who can hear him with his invisible ninja sword, before putting it in the back of his shirt.
I really like it when he puts weapons down the back of his shirt. My pacifism is suddenly out the door. I am like "Ethan, you are badass."
I really miss that kid.
I miss that kid too.
Also, tonight on the radio John Tesh was going to talk about 3 reasons a backyard chicken coop might not be a good idea. I wasn't in the car long enough to find what they were, but now I am not so sure about you having chickens behind your duplex. The goat sounds like a great idea though. I can think of only good things that would come from having a goat (weed control, trash pickup, merriment, etc.)
I might be a tiny bit worried about the chickens, too, actually, because on this one episode of House? It turned out whatever was wrong with the person who it was wrong with, that wrong thing was caused by playing baseball in the backyard and pitching from a mound made out of dirt from an old chicken yard. There was chicken poop in the dirt and the chicken-poop-contaminated dirt made whatever was wrong, wrong. I don't want a wrong-enough illness to warrant being the featured illness on House (i.e. you get out alive but you no longer have hair or a nose or a right leg and you have permanently alienated everyone who ever loved you).
So, yep, goat. Merriment for sure! And I get to keep my hair and nose and leg and loved ones, if possibly not my shorts.
What should I name my goat? I need something REALLY good, completely perfect in every way. Not just a name, but an IDENTITY. Brian? That's the Lims' (former?) cat (their one stab at humor in pet-naming, ever). Mister Bojangles? Ummm, or maybe the name of a famous goat? Can you think of any?
Good call about patients on House alienating everyone they love. I would PROBABLY not want to be a patient on House, what with the alienation and also loss of nose and hair (at first I read kinda fast and what I gleaned was loss of nose hair, but it all got straightened out later), but I also feel like I might enjoy the bonding experience with the one member of the staff who was having personal experiences that gave them special insight into my case.
Also, Mr. Bojangles is a really great goat name. And do you think Beth et al were being intentionally funny with the name Brian? Don't get me wrong, I always thought it was hilarious, but I didn't get the feeling that they did.
So, I have googled "famous goats," and a list of wikipedia pages came up. One was puck from midsummer, who is sorta goatish I guess, but does not have a name that would be funny on an actual goat. Then there was the unnamed goat that a Sudanese man was forced to marry in 2006. No name, though. The mascot of the US Naval Acdademy is apparently named Bill, which is still not funny, and would maybe be a little confusing at times.
By far the best famous goat I found is William Windsor, an actual goat who somehow held the actual rank of lance corporal in the British Army before being actually demoted to fusilier for unacceptable behavior at the Queen's birthday party.
But, again, the confusion with his nickname, Bill.
But seriously, Mr. Bojangles is an awesome name.
And, eerily, also a Bill . . . Hmmm . . .
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