You know how I said this was the year of me doing stuff? So far I have:
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| His scruff touched my face. Also, he's really nice and very tall and his wife is beautiful. |
- Taken ninja lessons with 5 of my friends and earned my white belt,
- Did an ice luge shot and then rode a mechanical bull,
- Embraced my love of inappropriate lady novels (THE LIST IS HERE AND IT'S GOT EVERYTHING)
- Went to Texas by myself to a conference and came home with several really good new friends and having briefly snuggled Jared Padelecki,
- Wrote a second book that is wildly personal,
- Got invited to work out w a former UFC fighter at his gym (we met at the Verizon store and we talked about his sweet fiancee and their house hunt and more on this later),
- Mercilessly pranked my neighbors in an ongoing squirmish, and
- I'm going to see Air Supply on Friday probably dressed in full 80's gear.
But... there's more and I'm legit losing the very last of my shit right now. I'm supposed to be in a "Mom Squad" number at my daughter's dance recital this weekend. This dance studio is filled with literally the nicest people in the world and we've been rehearsing for a month but last week I forgot everything and now it's like I'm broken and I. Can. Not. Dance. At. All.
Because dancing is hard and choreography is hard and coordination is hard and remembering what to do with your arms is hard and I want to quit but I can't because I am the dumbass who talked everyone into it ("This is the year we do stuff, guys!!") and now it's could be just very unfortunate for me.
So I guess what I'm saying is that it's fun to do new things but also terrifying and being brave also means feeling totally ridiculous.
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