It always comes back to the boa
Lil E is tucked away in the suburbs with his dad for a blissful weekend of Scooby Doo and chicken nuggets and I have some time for me. I have plans -- drinks and a party with my grrrlfriends and working on some writing projects that have been whispering to me for weeks now.
But tonight, I looked back a little to a time before everything changed. I went to a burlesque show my former teacher does with several other women on Friday nights. It's called Lipschtick and pairs the burlesque numbers with comics for what her site says is a bit of "honey meets funny."
Really, the funny was just sort of funny. But the burlesque...well, it got me thinking.
It made me really miss how good I felt shimmying and stripping off satin gloves in one of the best workouts and hours of empowerment, courage and delight I've ever had in a big room lined with mirrors.
I want to go back. The logistics aren't that easy. The teacher has her own studio that's tricky for me to get to at the times I'd need to be there. But I need something. And not just to tone up my thighs, but to get me back to the feeling that was sinking in a year ago. The feeling that shaking it serves a purpose -- me. It feels good.
I've been working so hard on all the internal stuff and I think it is time to take some of that freedom, wrap it in a boa and fishnets and get to work on all the rest.
I'm not sure how I'm going to do that yet, but I've taken a good ankle-strapped step forward. I'm thinking about it.
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