Let me see you dance…

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April 10, 2011 by Kim


Sometimes certain occurances happen to people that are so horrific the memory gets pushed back to the furthest depths of their minds. This is a survival tactic, being that… having to live with these memories may prove unbearable, to some.

The mere mention of Paula Abdul has managed to push one of my own supressed memories back into the limelight…

In the late 80’s I, like many other overly-permed 6th grade girls, was enrolled in a dance class.  A recital was planned for the end of the year, to showcase our “talents” and what-not.  Since I was a late starter, I would only be allowed to perform with the girls to the jazz number…. the awesomely great, Cold Hearted Snake, by Ms. Paula Abdul…. *cheers* Our costumes were simple, but radically 80s… black leotard, black tight, black ballet slippers and an oversized neon-hued T shirt. Mine was to be orange.
Neon orange.

Oh… and I can’t forget the accessory. If you are any younger than me, then you may have NO CLUE what I’m talking about… for a while it was in style to tie one side of your T-shirt in a knot by your hip…. after a while a product was introduced that was a little plastic circle that held your shirt, as though knotted, itself…

tshirt knot holder Pictures, Images and Photos

…something like that

anyways… are you still with me? So, yeah, T-shirt, leotard, tights, slippers and the plastic thing… we’re good to go…. 1 can of AquaNet… to stage we scamper.

Everything starts out well…. Everyone’s in place… the choreography is still fresh in our minds… snap here… clap there…. turn….

C c c cold hearted.. oo ah ahhhhhhh

C c c cold hearted.. sssssnake.

turn turn turn…

hmmmm… I don’t think my little plastic thing is supposed to be dangling off my shirt like that….

kick…. snap…. turn…

why the heck is my little plastic thing rolling across the stage….

must. chase. it.

Face tinged with humiliation, I darted between the bodies still moving in precision….

eyes on the rolling disk.

It rolls to a stop and I topple over, snatch it up and run back to my place…

and finish with my sisters o’ dance…

As the song ended we walked off stage…. perfect little ladies….

as soon as we were safely behind that heavy velvet curtain, I felt the hot breath of 12 enraged dancers shooting words of disgust at me…..

this went on for a pre-teen’s eternity…

The general consenses is that I should have let lil’ plastic roam and completed the routine…. and yeah I probably should have…

but I didn’t….

and somewhere…. at my mother’s house, it’s captured on VHS… for all eternity.

*bows*

 

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