My life likes to go in ups-and-downs. (Whose doesn’t?)
Before March 11th, I was flying high at Trapeze Arts with some friends. Brit Sketch flies below, Ikupoo coerced us into going, and Liana sketched us from a bench of safety. It was a lot of fun! You really have to let yourself go and give yourself to the commands of the professionals. The best advice I got that day was “Don’t think, just do. When she says let go of the bar, just let go of the bar.” So I did.
Update: I should also note the motivation that aided my “Why not?” attitude. Someone asked me how I got the guts to take off of the platform, and it’s pretty simple, really. You consider what it takes to take off, what would happen if you didn’t listen for the coaches’ cues, think about how badly marred you would be if you don’t do things right (lack of confidence = bad timing), and then you repeat the mantra “I don’t have medical insurance, I don’t have medical insurance.” Set it and forget it! Works every time.
My favorite part was falling onto the bouncy net many, many feet below, and the follow-up of Fenton’s for Celebration Ice Cream. This month’s Myrtle’s Creation goes to the MDA and is about the size of my head. All the kids running around in the party room were super jealous of my huge-ass sundae: rocky road, mint cookie, brownie, hot fudge, marshmallow, sprinkles. This is about as spirited as I get for St. Patrick’s Day:
I would totally go to Trapeze Arts again, but I have a really embarrassingly bad problem with bruising. This is why I could never be a B-girl or gymnast. Any source of repeated pressure causes me to bruise. When I was little I was in the front row of this hand jive section for our competition jazz team, and just practicing left both my hands and my thighs completely purple. I didn’t even feel any physical pain while hanging from my knees, but I knew just by the repetitious action that I’d be paying for it once I got home.
I do not exaggerate:
I just wish I wasn’t so susceptible to becoming a grape.