Am I a class act?
Last night, a friend of mine and I *ahem* went to the Mondavi Center in Davis to see the Alvin Ailey Dance production. It was packed. On a Tuesday night even! And soon I'd see why.
The athletism (sp?) displayed before our eyes for 2 hours put my lame-o bike rides to work, where I think I’m Lancestra Armstrong during the ENTIRE 30 minutes, to shame. I hurt just watching them. How do they do it? Remembering all those routines, in synch and not once trip? Amazing.
Anyway, I'm quite proud of my new cultured self as I have gone to two of these events over the last few weeks. I want you to know that I chose the Mondavi Center instead of the neighborhood bar or Big Lots. That's right, sista!
But I'm not made of steel. If you tempt my uncultured side to come out and play, she will. Even if you don't realize what you might be doing.
So, Kevin had to sneeze but for some reason chose to stifle it and instead made this odd old car trying to start, dying cow sound. Well, I looked at him in the dark and whispered "what the hell was that?" and then proceeded to giggle.
And in about two seconds it morphed in to a hearty chuckle. Now in between the giggle and the chuckle I had an internal dialogue that begged me to PLEASE not lose control of thyself. Because, all my life, when I lose control of my laughter, I'm ALWAYS the last one laughing.
But in the next second, I launched in to the asthmatic, can't catch your breath, try to not be heard laugh. Although it’s so immature, it’s also glorious...It's explosive and euphoric and joyful and it’s all wrapped up in one bad, delicious moment. I LOVE bad, delicious moments. Thank God, very mature Kevin was, too, caught up in the immature magnificence of it all. This whole episode lasted only about 60 seconds; but, I added another year to my life with that workout. And that’s ALWAYS worth it…
Thanks, Mr. Mondavi, for trying to make a distingushed woman out of me...but, it looks like I'm gonna need a liiiitle more practice.
The athletism (sp?) displayed before our eyes for 2 hours put my lame-o bike rides to work, where I think I’m Lancestra Armstrong during the ENTIRE 30 minutes, to shame. I hurt just watching them. How do they do it? Remembering all those routines, in synch and not once trip? Amazing.
Anyway, I'm quite proud of my new cultured self as I have gone to two of these events over the last few weeks. I want you to know that I chose the Mondavi Center instead of the neighborhood bar or Big Lots. That's right, sista!
But I'm not made of steel. If you tempt my uncultured side to come out and play, she will. Even if you don't realize what you might be doing.
So, Kevin had to sneeze but for some reason chose to stifle it and instead made this odd old car trying to start, dying cow sound. Well, I looked at him in the dark and whispered "what the hell was that?" and then proceeded to giggle.
And in about two seconds it morphed in to a hearty chuckle. Now in between the giggle and the chuckle I had an internal dialogue that begged me to PLEASE not lose control of thyself. Because, all my life, when I lose control of my laughter, I'm ALWAYS the last one laughing.
But in the next second, I launched in to the asthmatic, can't catch your breath, try to not be heard laugh. Although it’s so immature, it’s also glorious...It's explosive and euphoric and joyful and it’s all wrapped up in one bad, delicious moment. I LOVE bad, delicious moments. Thank God, very mature Kevin was, too, caught up in the immature magnificence of it all. This whole episode lasted only about 60 seconds; but, I added another year to my life with that workout. And that’s ALWAYS worth it…
Thanks, Mr. Mondavi, for trying to make a distingushed woman out of me...but, it looks like I'm gonna need a liiiitle more practice.
posted by Tanya Kristine at 8:54 PM
7 Comments:
Kevin? harumpf....
It has not served me well in my career that I suffer from the same style attacks- usually in serious meetings...
I've done the laugh stifling thing at church. During a wedding. That I was in. All because of my inner monologue convinced that the priest was Apu from The Simpsons.
oh NO. i've seen this. i've done this with you. we had to leave that freaky church one time behind my apartment in Roseville. remember the one's who talked in tongues, waving the arms and limbs all about. remember them introducing us.. i think that's when we laughed our asses right out of there. go back about 19 years. great story. put a huge smile on my face.
Hey, I'm all for self improvement, I'm also for Popeye's motto: I yam what I yam.
You must see The Chuckles the Clown episode from the Mary Tyler Moore show...laughing at a funeral, very bad and hilarious.
Good post.
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