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I Can't Even . . .
Aug. 5th, 2010 06:59 amSo it's 6:46 am, and I've been awake for almost three hours. Not cool.
Slight disclaimer: I am exhausted, all sortsa hormonal, and that makes me a little emotional. Still, I have to share this.
While I could have spent the last few hours writing, the epic incoherence of my brain in its sleep-deprived state would have resulted in some truly horrific story-telling. Instead, I decided to watch last night's episode of So You Think You Can Dance. Maybe my opinion is a little bit skewed by yesterday's smack down of Prop 8 (insert flappy hands and flailing squeals here), but this piece is not, as it was explained in the intro package, representative of a friendship breaking down. This is love when it's messy, imperfect, real, and beautiful.
( This is why I love choreographer Travis Wall so much I may name a child after him someday. )
Slight disclaimer: I am exhausted, all sortsa hormonal, and that makes me a little emotional. Still, I have to share this.
While I could have spent the last few hours writing, the epic incoherence of my brain in its sleep-deprived state would have resulted in some truly horrific story-telling. Instead, I decided to watch last night's episode of So You Think You Can Dance. Maybe my opinion is a little bit skewed by yesterday's smack down of Prop 8 (insert flappy hands and flailing squeals here), but this piece is not, as it was explained in the intro package, representative of a friendship breaking down. This is love when it's messy, imperfect, real, and beautiful.
( This is why I love choreographer Travis Wall so much I may name a child after him someday. )
