Applesauce and Acrobats

Dance started today. For the record, yes, I do take a dance class. Jazz. No, I'm not good. I usually just make a fool out of myself and laugh a lot at my own mistakes. But I need the exercise, and Tia's in it with me, so it's all good.

Well, almost all good. I'm so sore I can barely move, I'd forgotten all the special stances and stuff, and my teacher expects us to be able to do doubles. Listen, lady, the last time I was devoted to dancing, I was six. And the two years I spent at this studio were only for fun. I can barely stay standing long enough for a single turn, much less a double.

I'm no acrobat. I'm more of a clown.

But whatever. Eventually, after I fall down enough times, I'll be flexible and strong enough to do what she says. If I could do most of it before, I can do most of it again.

Along the lines of exercise, I'm actually going to try to eat a bit healthier. I'm sure it could help me feel better. I don't eat much as it is [people who aren't growing and aren't exercising don't need to eat three meals a day, folks] and I don't intend to lower the number, but I would like to maybe not eat so much junk. Like I said, I'll try. Mind over matter, right?

I know I'm already following the right track--now it's just about staying on track. Since seventh grade, I've taken applesauce in my lunch each day, much to the horror of my peers. Nobi-Wan Kenobi [ahh, my dear friend] makes fun of me every day for it. But I don't care--I like my apples. It's not crap food and it still tastes good.

My problem lies in the fact that I can't find a balance with food. Don't think I'm some sort of pig--I really don't like eating that much. Food isn't a priority to me [the last two days of writing my book, I ate nothing but Nerds and water because that's all I had in my room... lol]. But If I don't eat enough, I get dizzy and turn into a psycho [ask my DI team, they'll tell you the horror stories]. And If do I eat enough to keep my absurd blood sugar in check, I have to find a way to keep myself in shape. Let me tell you, hypoglycemics have it tough. The only way to keep ourselves from passing out is to eat something with protein, and anything with enough protein to act fast is WAY up there in the bad stuff. There's no balance.

I guess it could be worse. I could be unforgivingly obese or incapable of exercising at all. I could be hideously ugly and four feet tall. I could resemble a horse and get confused for a man, too.

Maybe it's not so bad after all.