Every writer I know has trouble writing
It was two in the morning, and I was still up. Crying, nonetheless, over the end of a good book. Telling myself to get to sleep wasn't working. I've figured out why I do this. Devouring books like especially good chocolate, I mean. It fills the holes in my life, the words. The books are all the same, more or less. Something sad, something happy.
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*grins* you are learning much faster than i did. no worries, by the time band camp rolls around, you will not ever drop that "six-foot metal pole with a gigantic piece of fabric on the end" as angie called it last year. i know you do not believe me now, but you will then. :) keep spinning, you are rocking it out hardcore.
thanks for helping me count and do up/downs during spins. i felt like i was going to pass out during the first set, never taking a breath. see you tuesday, when we will take the front for across-the-floors...again. i do not think anybody minds. and we get to dance to that fun song...i am wearing pants this time. :P
always,
-gina*
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No problem, love. I don't think anyone minds us being in front either...but maybe the "butt slide" in the dance is excuse enough for my mom to take me out to buy dance pants...hmm.
Love and Rockets,
Aimee
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