Friday, January 21, 2011

I don't wanna be a Ballerina

I never had a hobby growing up. Which probably explains the extreme lack of direction in my life at all times. Without a hobby, you have no purpose in life, and without a purpose in life you're just a loser in a fake moustache:

That's not to say I didn't have hobbies thrust upon me. So I guess you could say my Hobbies are getting out of having a Hobby.

Girl Guides: When I was about 11 my mum tried to make me join Girl Guides.. they were going to come to my house to give me a little speech about how great the Girl Guides would be. I anxiously awaited their arrival. In my head joining Girl Guides would be the equivalent of being in a Mission Impossible movie - jumping out of planes, solving international crimes, abseiling down sky scrapers.. so it was to my great dismay when two fat chicks dressed in beige and green showed up at my door. Pffffft. I have no interest in your arts and crafts patches. If I wanted to go out and identify sticks I'd be a stick insect. LAME. Suffice to say I never went to one Girl Guide meeting... who knows the type of person I'd be today if I had gone??? For one I'd probably be able to navigate my way through a Park and not come out in the middle of the Ghetto every time we visit a new city.

Another misguided attempt at thrusting a hobby upon me was the hugely unsuccessful Ballerina period... with all the hype surrounding the Black Swan I've been having major flashbacks to my career stint as a Ballerina.... aka: my 2 day stint as a Ballerina. First of all, I would have never been able to carve myself a proper career as a Ballerina - I was probably too tall for that in the fifth grade. Luckily I wasn't introduced to it till the fourth.

Out of Nowhere: "hey you're going to Ballet classes tomorrow.." .. "I'm going where in the what now??"

The problem being that when these hobbies were put upon me they were put upon me in a half arsed way.. and the main hurdle is that Ballet is not a half arsed hobby - there are things you need. You need ballerina clothes, you need ballerina shoes, and mostly you need a vested interest in being a ballerina. I had none of these things.

When I started my Ballet course I started mid way through... I had to do it in a tracksuit whilst all the other girls did it in pretty tutu's and tights, and I had to participate in their stupid ballet routine that they had all been practicing for months. Knowing not one of the steps was an obvious obstacle. That was my first day.

On the second day I went there was an exam. That's right a fucking Ballet exam. Up to this point my knowledge of Ballet was the 45 mins I spent grimacing through the day before, how the heck am I supposed to write down what a Pliè is?? I don't even know how to pronounce Pliè. Fuck you and your Pliè.

After the traumatising mess that was my pathetic 100% wrong Ballet exam, I went outside to think over my options... I could either continue the humiliation of dancing through ballet in tracksuit pants being the retard of the group who can't do anything.. or I could put an end to it all.

So I did just that... and scaled a wall and jumped off into a pile of gravel.

I landed on my leg, cut myself up good and had a huge gash on my knee that bled profusely until someone came to pick me up. No one ever asked me why I scaled a wall to jump into a pile of gravel, I guess people don't want to delve into those sorts of childhood disturbances.

Suffice to say - I never went to another Ballet class, nor was anything else ever offered to me as a way to occupy my mind. Everything after that revolved around me sitting in my room reading Babysitters Club and wishing I had five friends to make a club with.. or a friend... But hey! who needs friends when you've got the internet??? wooo grown ups!!!

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