Day 24: Mar 22, 2012.
Sorry about missing last night as well, I have been sleeping for 19 hours, with a couple of waking hours here and there.
Which means that other than the fact that I slept beautifully, I don't have too much to say.
KK was approached by a fairly prestigious modeling agency yesterday. Man and I jumped about with excitement when we heard, not so much out of happiness for KK, but at the prospect of meeting her male co-workers.
Thunder must've exploded not far from here, it sounded like Diwali. Ouch, and again.
Oh, I haven't spoken about my dance lessons. Twice a week I have classes at this dance school appropriately called Two Left Feet. It's located in the quaint interiors of the city, behind large victorian wooden doors, up a flight of old stairs, in what must have been an attic of some kind in an old colonial home. The two instructors are fun: one is an outrageous twink, he talks to men about embracing the movement seductively, with wrists flapping and butt protuding. The other is probably under four and a half feet, it's difficult to locate her among us most of the time. There are a couple of Caucasian couples, one extraodinarily good looking Indian couple, one garrulous short chinese man with a GINORMOUS belly that precedes him by a yard, his shy wife in the most beautiful shoes I had ever seen, a couple of guys my age, one man who's at the class for the singular and defeated purpose of picking up chicks, one father and son (wierd huh?) and two other single women. It's usually fairly chaotic and fun. Two hours of dancing in heels is pretttttty exhausting too, but a fun workout, basically. In case you have forgotten, these classes are crucial to my plan of eventually becoming sexy, so to speak.
Stay safe, leave the golf clubs at home when you venture out today.
Love,
SV.
Sorry about missing last night as well, I have been sleeping for 19 hours, with a couple of waking hours here and there.
Which means that other than the fact that I slept beautifully, I don't have too much to say.
KK was approached by a fairly prestigious modeling agency yesterday. Man and I jumped about with excitement when we heard, not so much out of happiness for KK, but at the prospect of meeting her male co-workers.
Thunder must've exploded not far from here, it sounded like Diwali. Ouch, and again.
Oh, I haven't spoken about my dance lessons. Twice a week I have classes at this dance school appropriately called Two Left Feet. It's located in the quaint interiors of the city, behind large victorian wooden doors, up a flight of old stairs, in what must have been an attic of some kind in an old colonial home. The two instructors are fun: one is an outrageous twink, he talks to men about embracing the movement seductively, with wrists flapping and butt protuding. The other is probably under four and a half feet, it's difficult to locate her among us most of the time. There are a couple of Caucasian couples, one extraodinarily good looking Indian couple, one garrulous short chinese man with a GINORMOUS belly that precedes him by a yard, his shy wife in the most beautiful shoes I had ever seen, a couple of guys my age, one man who's at the class for the singular and defeated purpose of picking up chicks, one father and son (wierd huh?) and two other single women. It's usually fairly chaotic and fun. Two hours of dancing in heels is pretttttty exhausting too, but a fun workout, basically. In case you have forgotten, these classes are crucial to my plan of eventually becoming sexy, so to speak.
Stay safe, leave the golf clubs at home when you venture out today.
Love,
SV.
you always muck up the spelling of weird
ReplyDeleteI guess I'm wierd
ReplyDeletei before e except after c other than for weird words like weird
ReplyDelete