Dancing queen. Old and mean, only 52.

Published on by June

Yesterday at lunchtime, I stampeded across town to the damn dance store, which is its official name. Greensboro’s Damn Dance Store! We’re open stupid times!

When I got there, I realized I’d tensed up, in the worry that they’d be closed Mondays or some other similar irritating thing. But they were not! There they were, all open and shit.

I’d have taken photos, but it was really a small boutique kind of place, and there was one other person in there, a rather demanding-seeming woman over in the kids’ section. Which, by the way, seemed to dominate. And you know how I am. “Oooo, tiaras! …Oh. They’re for kids. Dammit.” “Oooo! Tote bags that read “ballet” in glitter! …Teensy, for kids. Dammit.”

A very helpful saleswoman got me m’shoes,

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Hey. YOU try holding your purse, your phone AND ballet shoes and see how good YOUR photo is, fussy.

and also some yoga pants that I am delighted to report were kind of too big. Naturally, I cut the tags off them before trying them on, because that’s the kind of careful planning that’s resulted in the delicately elegant life I’ve created for myself.

When work ended, I checked the time and locale of my dance class; I’d already emailed the place to reserve a spot. It had been a lovely, warm and blowy–but not THAT kind of blowy–day, and I was happy to have a few minutes to come home and hang with the entourage, the four-legged entourage, my FURBABIES (sigh) before heading to my 7 o’clock class.

IMG_E1158.JPGThis sums up all of my quality time with Steely Dan.

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there just so much of SD to luff. Have to share wif wurld.

But look. Here’s six seconds of autumnal calm, now with falling leaves!

Anyway. At 6:30. I left the house, got downtown–where I will not mention the mental status of any old men–found, like,  TV parking right outside the building, and sauntered into the “cultural” center.

I don’t know why I’m cynical about that. But you know what? I got in there, and it was pretty cool! It was so, you know, cultural. I turned into yogurt, it was so cultured.

IMG_1161.jpgI found the room where my class was to begin at 7:00, and?

Everyone was ballet-ing. Ballet-ing hard. Because the class had started 45 minutes before.

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Flyer for the modern class.

I WANTED Absolute Beginner, Ballet. I read the TIME for Absolute Beginner, Modern.

I needed an Absolut.

So, I sat on a comfy metal bench, right outside the class, and watched my coworker finish his ballet, just like my parents used to have to do when I took ballet from the winged-eyeliner lady circa 1973. I talked to another parent, who was doing her homework and was probably delighted to have to hear my plight about the wrong time and so on. Then I kibitzed with my coworker when he was done, and when I got back outside, after promising to come back AT THE RIGHT TIME next week?

Storm. Don’t know why, there’s no sun up in the sky. Other than the fact that it’s 7:15 in October. Stormy weather, since that man and I ain’t together. It’s raining all the am I blue.

That was only funny if you know my Am I Blue/asking gramma for the lyrics to Stormy Weather story.

You know what I like? People who don’t scroll up. Like, we’ll have a big chain of comments going, here or on Facebook of June, and someone wanders on and asks something we addressed four comments ago. I adore that.

IMG_1165.jpgAnyway, here’s an unretouched photo of JOOON, having been caught in the RAAAAAIN on the way home from dance class where she didn’t DAAAAANCE. I have no idea why I’m talking like that.

It was scary rain, scary driving rain where driving is scary.

Oooo, also, while I was waiting for my coworker last night, I noticed a particularly lovely woman, who actually I’d noticed dancing before she was even milling around after class. She looked the way a ballerina should look, and then after class, she put on the best pair of multicolored chunky heels, and I was in great admiration.

After class, I drove through the driving rain to the grocery store, and guess who was there, over in the wine aisle. So I said, “Hey, I just saw you at that ballet class,” and we ended up talking for a long time, and said, “See you next week,” and soon she will be giving me those shoes, so enamored will she be of All Things June.

Speaking of which, yesterday in Facebook of June, I asked y’all all what the most stalky thing you’ve done was, regarding me and my unblog and my life, such as it is. I’d read this subject on a Reddit thread, titled, “How far is too far for stalking our blog reads” or something like that.

I figured you’d Zillowed my house or Googled my real name or what have you.

But wow!

You’ve researched Marvin’s girlfriends and found Ned’s place of employment. You figured out where TinyTown was and sought out that author I briefly went out with.

But my favorite, my very favorite, was the person who ended up sitting behind Ned and me at a play, after we’d been long broken up and there we were, holding hands. This was last year. I’d like to throw that caveat out there. Last year, before we officially reunited for six weeks or whatever it was.

IMG_1166.JPGAnyway, here we are, NOT KNOWING a reader was behind us, texting our scandalous photo.

It should be noted said reader’s spouse was appalled by her, and this is just how men are, and why they have to be so weird is beyond me. Because of COURSE she took a photo. I would have, too.

I gotta go. Since you’re all behind me right now, you know it’s late and I haven’t showered.

Luff,

Bestalked Juan

 

68 thoughts on “Dancing queen. Old and mean, only 52.”

  1. This post was awesome. I checked for it yesterday, and then didn’t get back ’till now. I was totally confused…and my kids are in dance. I KNOW that there is a difference between ballet and modern, but I was still…”It says 7:00…Why is she late?” Duh. And Vela’s comment? Oh, my goodness GreeninOC had my exact thought process! So funny. I am going to move on to today’s post now. I hope my brain can keep up.

    Lovely post, lovely June!

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  3. I am confused as to why people were confused. For what it’s worth I thought the modern/ballet snafu was clearly explained. I also thought Vela’s comment was pretty transparent. (My phone keeps changing it to Velma and I considered leaving it. Ha. I think Veela might be appropriate too.) However, I did not understand TV parking, so there’s that. I think you should have tried modern since you were there already. Says the person who never tries anything,

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  5. Thank you, Mother. That’s the same question I was going to ask. June may have a bit of an advantage of the real “beginners.” I’m enjoying all the comments, along with the not blog, though.

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  7. IF i were behind you in RL, I would probably scream JOOON!! We would all be embarrassed but I wouldn’t be able to contain myself. My husband and I just finished a two week road trip and one of the towns we went to on the way up north was Raleigh.
    You were so close, but not close enough. I’m no Vela I guess. Can’t wait to see pics June Baryshnikov.

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  8. Jules quit blogging one time and his commenters were all like DON’T LET THE DOOR HIT YA WHERE THE GOOD LORD SPLIT YA!

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  9. It’s like a “who’s on first” skit around here.

    I’m trying to picture these multicolored chunky heeled shoes and I cannot.

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  12. See, I really really really want to add to Vela’s comment but my brain is too full with numbers today (blech) instead of kitty cats, big hair, zoo signs, and It’s A Wonderful Life. Ack!

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  13. I had some good comments in my head but then I got to Vela’s. And all my cleverness went right out the window.
    Wtaf?

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      2. Today I have an especially large “explain it to me like I’m 5” hurdle I’m trying to get over! The whole ballet started 45 minutes earlier, threw me back to 5th grade math word problems. After much consternation I figured it out! Please sent Gold Star ASAP please!

        Similarly, I needed a CliffsNotes guide for Vela’s comment until I read yours! A peek inside my very literal brain:
        1) oh that’s funny
        2) sounds like June
        3) commenters sound like us
        4) hah… wait those pets sound like Junes’, oh but wait his was a Doberman, nope, not June
        5) recoil in “OMG Vela was arrested for stalking” horror
        6) go into fix it mode, how are we going to keep June safe from this creep who doesn’t he realize that he’s admitting to stalking in her comments???
        7) read June’s comment and cock my head like a dog hearing a high pitch noise
        8) re Amish Annie’s comment and make the Tim the Tool Man Taylor “huh” noise and cock head further
        9) re-read Vela’s comment
        10) slow clap for his cleverness (of course preceded by giving myself the slow clap for figuring it out!!)

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Ah but LisaPie, Vela’s comment is actually pretty clever. Very tongue in cheek. If you read his comment a few times, it will make you laugh instead of being creeped out, ha!

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  14. For years I read a blog called “Hi Hi Beer!” written by a guy named Jules who lives about an hour from me in Greenville. Jules was in love with Nelle, who had commitment issues. He had lots of friends (I recall a dude named Short Story Writer and various guys from work named Al) and he owned a lot of pets -– I especially remember an aloof doberman and an emotionally needy cat named Pablo Cruise. The comments section was lively (especially when the commenter named Methodist Andy got involved) –- lots of insults being traded, fights threatened, power tools discussed, personal attacks on Jules, hardly ever a kind word spoken. It was awesome, but eventually I started becoming a little too interested in Jules’ personal life. I started looking for him at his favorite firing range and sports bar. I sat behind him at an ultimate fighting championship, and took a photo of him and his girlfriend making out. It was only after some tough love from the judicial system and many hours spent in church basements twelve-stepping with other blog fans that I realized that I should not be following or commenting on any blogs.

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  15. The title cracked me up. I would have definitely taken your photo at the theater AND tapped you on the shoulder to say that your faithful reader, Tee, was right behind you. I doubt if my husband would have cared. Seems like SD is eating really well these days. He has gained a pound or two. I always wanted a pair of ballet shoes. One Christmas, I must have been five or six, Santa brought me a pair. I was so excited!

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  16. I love you for taking ballet classes at your cultural center. (Which looks nice and modern.) It will give cowards like me more confidence to actively join a class locally.
    I’ve always said I was so glad there were no camera phones while I was growing up. There should not be photographic evidence of my teenage years. I was bad. Worse than bad. I never thought of people like you. Famous in your own right, having your privacy invaded or documented by strangers.
    I’ll leave it there. I have more thoughts in my head, but that’s a big empty space and they ping pong around a lot.

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    1. Now I have another reason for being scattered and not at all with it at times. My ping pong ball broke loose and is wandering in my head.

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  17. That song always reminds me of the movie Muriel’s Wedding. I loved that movie. Toni Collette’s breakout role, I believe.

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  18. I wish we had those classes around here too. I remember the “am I blue ” story! Yay me. So…speaking of stalking….now I want to see those shoes. I visit an older lady in my neighborhood from Sicily about once a week. Once I gave her a ride to a church thing, and when we got out of the car I looked down, and I was wearing my junk comfortable flats since I knew we had to walk a ways. She was wearing 3 inch multicolored heels with sparkles. Fabulous. Of course I asked, and yes those shoes were Italian. I need to up my shoe game.

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  20. I loved that stalking thread. Camera phones scare me to death because I wonder how many times I have been photographed doing something stupid. Not because I am a celebrity or because I’m all that interesting, but because I’m always doing something stupid.

    I remember reading about your grandma and the hilarious Am I Blue story. (another one of my favorite posts)

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  21. Even though I hate ABBA, I loved your title. That flyer would have confused me too and I would have missed the class like you. I was still confused until it was explained here in the comments.

    I feel like I need to think of something I want to find out so I can stalk you with everyone else.

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      1. That’s a strange title. Reminds me of “Absolut Vodka.”

        I bet they’d accept an offer from you to edit their Website. “Absolut Ballet.”

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          1. Maybe we read we just didn’t comprehend , I didn’t see the ballet flyer , so also thought absolute beginner meant ballet ,seeing as we only saw one flyer and assumed it was for all things dance that were being offered at the bar of absolute vodka.

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  24. Okay, I’ve only read the title and am peeing myself from laughing. Gonna go change panties and then read accompanying post.

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  27. Just wanted to say that I loved stalky thread. By the time I finished reading the millions of reactions, my husband was screaming it was bedtime. Your people are so clever and investigative.
    Sorry about the dance class, at least you met a new person to admire.

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  28. Good on you for staying until the end of class. I probably would’ve left in a ’54 Huff and missed the fun.
    I wracked my brain yesterday trying to think of anything stalky I might have done.
    When I found out you were in G, I Google effinged it and liked what I saw.

    Liked by 1 person

  29. I am a terrible stalker. My girls are genius at it. The things they have found out about people amaze me and SO EASILY. It kind of makes me think twice about what kinds of things people can find out about me online. Although my life is so boring it wouldn’t be worth anyone’s time.

    Lovely post lovely June! Your city is so pretty! So much going on there and yet it’s like a small town where you run into people you know everywhere you go. The only place I see people I know is The Walmart when I would rather not be seen.

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    1. Millennial girls are the foremost experts at internet stalking. They’re better than private detectives. I know if I asked my 22-year old daughter to internet stalk an old boyfriend of mine, she’d have a full dossier on my desk within a day or two.

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  32. So cultured you turned into yogurt!!!! Brilliant!
    Sorry you missed ballet but it sounds like you still enjoyed yourself.
    It took me a minute to figure out that all those classes were for modern dance, not ballet. So the time was right, just for the wrong dance category.

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  33. Your cultural center and the dance classes sound fun. I’ve never taken a dance class. My daughter would crumble in horror at the thought, which of course makes me want to do it. OK, I’ll be the dummy who doesn’t understand the story. (Dodging livers and assorted body parts flung in my general direction) The Absolute Beginner class runs from 7:00-8:00 on Monday. You showed up for 7:00, but somehow everyone else had been balleting for 45 minutes. Yet there is no class on that list for Mondays at 6:15. (It’s called exaggeration, Laura. Are you new?) You said you had read the time for the Modern class, so perhaps it’s just that you showed up at 7:00, thinking it started in fifteen minutes? (Look how I worked it out for myself.) Happy Tuesday. Hope my brain wakes up.

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    3. Laura, thank you for asking THAT question. I guess I would be dodging the same body parts, because I thought the flyer said 7:00, too.

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        1. But that was on the MODERN DANCE flyer for the beginner class, or did I read that wrong. Okay I’ll shut up. But I am keeping my numbers up. Ha!

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          1. Which is exactly what I said in the caption. The modern dance flyer. Then underneath it I say that I looked at the time for modern, not ballet. I’m going to kill my own self.

            >

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  35. I am still giggling over that stalky photo and the irritated spouse. That whole thread just made my day.

    Sorry about the missing ballet. I might have been tempted to go home and pretend ballet what with the new shoes and all.

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  36. That level of stalking would involve me renewing my passport with a photo of my fat self. Low self-esteem is playing havoc with m’stalking game.
    I’m hoping you fed the furries in your ballet shoes to get your dance practice in.
    Balletic post Coot.

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  37. Loved this post.
    I’ve never done anything that you haven’t permitted, except for finding out who Marvin’s new wife is. I do not social media. Man, it was just out there to be found.
    Lovely, lovely.

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