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Tap tap tapping on heaven’s floor….

my calves are rock.

The universe saw fit to provide me with tap shoes for Christmas. I say the Universe, cause they appeared before me at St-Vincents… not at the foot of a tree, or in a wrapped box.

I love them. I rever them. I have worn them every day since acquiring them, once to piss off the entire household at 10 in the morning, and the rest of the time in my room with the door closed alone, and from what I’m told, no one can hear me.

I don’t want to develop the same stagefright with this one that I have with the singing. I have sung so much to myself by myself that I find it painful to do so in front of others. It feels unnatural.

I have always danced without fear, and the last thing I need is to lose that…

Or maybe I’ll just replace it with something else. I really enjoyed the drums when I picked them up, making that kind of rythmic noise is like a salve for the soul… god almighty you should feel it offa tap shoes.

This is my first pair of tap shoes. I have loved making noise with my feet since I was a little girl and I got my first pair of dress shoes and they made awesome clicky noises (from what I recall, most effectively on concrete floors).

Or concrete covered in parketry (sp?). You know.. little wood squares…. it’s heavenly. Good thing the floors were finished before I started tapping on them, cause there’s gonna be some seriously worn out spots fairly soon. I’ve been getting in an hour of practice a day… and my calves are killing me. Although I managed to get a workout in spite of the pain yesterday. No other way around pain but right fucking through it…

I’m developing some tiny little muscles in the oddest places. and taking uber care of my feet. All of a sudden that foot stomping incident I had a few weeks ago is haunting me, and I can’t use my right foot fully at the moment. I guess I’ll have to stop stomping my feet from now on now won’t I?

I’ve also realized that if I intend to do this show-wise, there is no way I will survive it and continue smoking two packs a day. That’s right, I smoke two packs a day. My doctor is shocked too….

I’ve got this awesome little body that does amazing things if only I’ll let it. Despite having a 20 year smoking habit under my belt (5 of them with pot to boot), I have the cardio vascular system of a champion, with a blood pressure level sitting pretty at 117/70. I’ve come to realize of late that I won’t be that way forever, and that if something is to be done, now is the time.

I’m not sure I can give up smoking altogether, certainly not the pot, because I am far too dependant on it for more things than one… some in common with nicotine. I can no longer really assign a purpose to nicotine aside from the enjoyment I derive from sucking on a white stick with friends sucking on sticks, blowing out smoke together in a pretty cloud, looking all cool.

And that’s the truth. Smoking has been a part of my vista since birth, I am never going to eliminate it entirely from my life, and it’s stupid to try. What I’m going to do is get it under control so it no longer sucks anything from me. Years off my life, a life that could prove to be so awesome that I’d wanna never leave…

And now that it has tap shoes, I might just wanna stay a little longer….

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