When we left each other last week, I was preparing to be buried in the Snowstorm of the South. Let’s just say I sure am glad I stocked up on — yeah, I didn’t need to stock up on anything.
Really, that dog WAS happy about the snow, but he’s always happy unless he decides to Letter C, which he just ups and does sometimes. I feel like he must remember some time in the past when he was an asshole or something.
Also, I know most of you have seen the below on the social medias, but here it is for the 4 people who refuse to join modern society. Get down off your one-wheeled bicycle and look at Forest’s reaction to snow.
Unicycle. I guess it’s called a unicycle, not a one-wheeled bicycle, as that literally makes no sense.
It bugs me that two years into living here I apparently already have to paint these back steps. Just because 20 feet go up and down it 70 times a day.
Also also, that turquoise thing is the table umbrella. I just laid it against the house for winter, rather than store it in the shed, because if I left it in the shed I’d be scared snakes would just pop out of it when I opened it in spring. I realize the best part of life is the thinner slice and
Dear June: Please stop quoting that line from the fine people at Air Supply.
I realize I need to get over going into the shed but I cannot. My snake shed is practically useless now, as it is a snake shed.
To sum, the snow never really even covered the grass, so I am holding out for a hero, and also for another more substantial snowstorm later this year. LAST year, all we got was one snowstorm the day after my surgery so I don’t really remember it. So it’s been two years since we’ve had a really good snow that I could enjoy.
The other thing I did this weekend was try to take ballet. A few weeks ago, my Instagram ads—ads that know my very soul—had an ad for online classes from the International Ballet Academy in New York. Ooooo, I wanted those. Naturally, they HOSED YOU OFF by not telling you ANYTHING until you entered all sorts of information, but finally I learned classes were
$197 a month
and I said yeah, no. That’s less than I was paying for my trainer by the way, but still. So on Friday afternoon I got a call from a woman from the International House of Balletcakes, wondering why I didn’t seal the deal.
“Oh, the cost was too prohibitive,” I said to her. You should hear me on the phone with these kinds of people. Once I get past my breakthrough “Yes,” at the beginning, I talk like I have a PhD in phone conversations.
“We’re offering a special of $50 a month and you can cancel anytime,” she said.
When Marvin and I used to go out to eat, he’d ask for the special and if it contained anything with a lemon or honey or chicken, Marvin would say, “Sold!” to the waitperson. This sort of grandpa talk always humiliated me to my core, despite the fact that later in the dinner I would inevitably balance the spoon on my nose. My nose has now gotten so huge that I can’t even do that any longer. Plus the last time I was at a restaurant was the day Kobe Bryant died. It was on the TV at the restaurant.
The point is, I so wanted to say, “SOLD!” to the fine woman at the International Ballet Academy. Or maybe, “Take my money.”
The first live class was Saturday at 12:45 p.m. You can watch it after that any time, but I really wanted to take it live. I have ballet shoes from when a coworker was going through a divorce so he took ballet and I said I’d go to classes with him to be supportive and then bought shoes and never went. Follow me for this kind of support.
Before class my mother called. I recognized her ring. I don’t have ring tones for people. I just knew, when the phone rang, who it would be.
“You’re not taking beginning lessons, are you? You’re not a beginner!”
“Yes. I suppose I should’ve mentioned my years at Ann Herzberg dance studio in Bridgeport, Michigan from 1972 to 1975. Geez. I hope I don’t blow the instructor out of the water.”
In the end, I couldn’t get on Zoom. I mean, I could, but first I tested to see if I could and once it looked like I was for sure getting on, I hung up, cause it was like 20 minutes early and I didn’t want to seem overeager. Then I tried to call back right before the class like
ELEVENTY HUNDRED TIMES
and I think Zoom thought I was some sort of scammer, or Antifa. I never could dial back in. So I took a ballet class on YouTube for free just because I had on the shoes and I felt like this:
Nevertheless, I am persisting because $50 a month, man. That’s 1/8 of a Botox.
I gotta go. I have to get to work and my commute is a nightmare. Harrrrr. All those years in Los Angeles I wished for a better commute and NOW LOOK AT ME.
I leave you with this image of God watching Democrats and Republicans.