Ballerina Nazis

Surprisingly, there were quite a few photos that would have worked well for this post I found by googling "ballerina nazis". After referring back to my days in 4th grade when I had no idea what the swastika meant and thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world and drew it all over my homework and folders, I thought better of it and decided this would be a picture-less post.

So what is a ballerina nazi? Don't worry, I wouldn't leave you hanging. My daughter's brand new ballet school sent home a newsletter with her after her first day of class. Littered all over the newsletter next to the upcoming show announcements and birthdays are threats and rules.

• Students are to arrive not one minute more than ten minutes early, as this encourages bad behavior.
  
  
• Students are to do homework between dance classes.
  
  
• Parents are never to be allowed in the room to watch their children dance, they need to bond with their instructor and their dance mates and disruptions will not be tolerated.
  
  
• Parents are never to leave the hallway during the 45 minute class.
  
  
• Chairs will never be provided for parents (Ok, it doesn't actually say that but I think it's important to know!)
  
  
• Parents must walk their dancers from class to class as they are never to be unattended and no one should be wandering the halls.
  
  
• A blizzard is no excuse for missing a class and you WILL be billed regardless of whether you were there or not.
  
  

My daughter? Oh she's 4. Turning 5 actually. Which is on the newsletter. Too bad they spelled her name wrong.

Fucking Nazis.

Little Baby with the Sundress on...Lookin' so Damn Right you're Wrong

Tonight I had this sinking feeling that I absolutely needed to blog. A horrible, terrible feeling of failure. Sad, huh? I think maybe because it's one of 'goals' for the year. Nevermind the fact I haven't thought of anything to blog about. Besides how much I like the word blog. But I'm not sure that would be such a thrilling topic.

You know what is interesting though? The word blog is showing up on the spell check. Ironic. Or something that is like ironic. Wait. I just remembered I already said that on here. Isn't that sad- it hasn't even been a month that I've had this blog and already I'm repeating myself.

I don't know what it is about being sick, but every time I get a scratchy throat, I am always convinced it's the sexiest voice ever. If it's really bad and cracking, I practice my Titantic skills "Jack...Jack. Jack, wake up. Jack, there's a boat! Jack? Noo, Jack!" Skillz, I seyz.

Speaking of skills, guess who graduated to medium on Guitar Hero III. Ooh and guess who is so addicted that she taps taps out Guitar Hero keys on her stick shift while singing and driving? Damn right. "RubyRubyRubyRu-bay!"

Keeping with the randomness of this post (although not all that random, I did manage to segue quite successfully between topics), I'm leave you with a kitteh or two.