marmalade dreaming

Sunday, October 16, 2005

i'm back, i'm 21, and i can legally go out to a club and get wasted in america. you know it.

feel like i've been on tour today. wollongong, kingsford, surry hills, hornsby, wahroonga, belrose, wahroonga, ryde, newtown, wahroonga. it's a tough life on the road...but i had radiohead's 'the bends' as the soundtrack for a lot of it so i can't complain. one of my favourite albums ever i think.

my childhood dream of running away to join the circus was partially fulfilled this weekend. i went to a flying trapeze class! it was much fun and adrenaline and weightlessness and heaviness and trusting and climbing and swinging and bouncing and hanging and backflipping and flying and letting every time i got to the top of the ladder and stepped over onto the tiny platform i'd freak out all over again - the bar was so heavy and my arms felt so weak and my hands were so sore by the end of it - but i was on such a rush that i just kept going back up for more. and it was just so FUN! we got taught about the importance of timing and how to move your body properly on the bar, and also got taught how to backflip off the bar down onto the safety net, which was wild! the sensation of flying through the air was incredible, going back and forth on the biggest, highest swing you've ever been on. the first drop as you jumped off the platform was great, feeling so free and out of control and hoping your hands don't give way, then at the end of the first swing having to quickly get your legs up over the bar, then on the next swing letting your hands go...and then you're swinging just hanging by your knees with your arms stretched out towards the ground and your back arched, waiting for the call to "let go!" and trusting that the guy swinging on the other bar was going to catch you when you straightened your legs...MAN!! i'm sure there's a sermon illustration in there somewhere...something about trust and letting go...who knows...i'll leave that to my dad.

i have this stupid, pointless hang-up about a certain shop. i hate it with unreasonable passion. so imagine my horror when there was something in there i needed to buy (for someone else, i might add), and then double that horror when the girl behind the counter presented me with the most conspicuously labelled, ridiculously bright carry bag in which my purchase had been put in. i could have just declined the bag, but it all happened so fast...and i was so overcome with mortification that i couldn't think properly. i folded up the bag as best i could and tried to conceal it amongst my other things, though it didn't work very well. it's just funny now to think how embarrassed i was about it. it's really not that big a deal - i don't think anybody would have actually noticed and i'm quite sure nobody would have actually cared, and besides, it's such a silly thing to be hung-up about in the first place...but somehow at the time i found it necessary to be a drama queen about it. go figure.

dancing is fun, but i'm finding more and more than i don't find performing half as fun as choreographing. weird? or just me?

"suck...suck your teenage thumb" - radiohead