24 April 2009


Twenty years of ballet and no damage to my feet except the occasional blister when I briefly took pointe....

Eight weeks of tango, and these are my feet:

And that's leaving out  my shins, which look as if they've been repeatedly beaten by tiny elves with heavy hammers.

On Thursday I had my tango lesson, and when I walked into the house, my VTTT was playing Bregovic!  Amazing.  At the end of the lesson I specially requested it, so we got to dance to "In the Death Car" for our last dance.  Lovely...

I must confess, I really like the VTTT and his wife:  he, in particular, has an excellent sense of humour.  On the way home from the lesson I occasionally imagine going over to their house for dinner with some interesting age-appropriate man they've managed to rustle up for me.  At the moment, though, they're having their patio repaved so they can dance on it, so I'll indulge in daydreams in which they have a giant tango party that I get to go to and dance with everyone. Well, all the good men.

Incidentally, the VTTT and his ETRSW live in a VSH, and I find this VFI.  Who made that choice, and how do they manage it?  

Take that, code-breakers!

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