The tall Trini tried to sneak outa the beginner's class this afternoon, but I got him to come back. He usually arrives a few minutes late and lingers in the doorway, lookin' like a shy little boy.
I dragged him on to the floor, made him put his arms around me and chacha with me. His hands were shaking again!
My my, could it be that I'M what's makin' him nervous? Wouldn't THAT be pure kix! If that's the case, then he's in for some trouble, cuz when girls smell fear, they run with it! Or maybe it's just me...

Heheh, and all that time I thought it was his cologne that smelled so nice!

I found myself pointing out to him that in ballroom, you don't use your mouth to communicate with your partner, but your body. He looked at the ground and gave a nervous little chuckle.

I love this.

I recently watched the entire labour and birth process on a Discovery Health. Those bastards showed everything, and I made myself watch it, muttering to myself the whole time "this is educational...everyone should know the basics of childbirth."
Now, I'm scarred for life.

As the soon-to-be mother grimaced with each contraction, I crossed my legs tighter and tighter as if I'd never uncross them again. And maybe I won't.

I like to preach to my brother about how it's a natural process, and there's nothing disgusting about it, but to be honest, I was absolutely revolted when they showed a close-up of the baby "crowning".
It was like a horror movie.
And when the baby finally got squeezed out, followed by a flood of ambiotic fluid (or maybe it was the placenta?) it looked like a mottled grey alien, covered in day-old cheese sauce.

Even visualising that again for this blog has set my heart a beat faster, and a queasiness in my stomache.

I can admit it...it scared the hell outa me.

See, in theory, the creation of life, and having a child to continue on after you, is all fine and dandy, but the actual physical pregnacy and birth???

That is some messed up ish right there.

Once again my thighs are killing me, not to mention my lower back, and now my forearms.
A guy on my MSN list reminded me that the pain is just the weakness leaving the body.
I love that. Weakness, be gone!

C.O.T.

Did I mention I met and shook hands with Mr. Festus Mogae, the President of Botwana, last Wednesday?

C.O.T.

My suspicions have been confirmed.
There's a certain Wicked Witch of the West in the dance community that has either conciously or subconciously, engineered the estrangement between my (ex?) dance partner and myself.
I don't know what kind of hold she has over him, but she seems to have made him her pet, and he's staying far away from me.
There're speculations as to what her master plan is, but that will only come to light at Strictly Latin 2k5. The more I think about it, the more outraged I become, but I have to try hard not to stoop to her manipulative, conniving, underhanded, and flat-out dangerous, behaviour.

She'll get what's coming to her.