There She Is...

So it's that time again...Pageant week. I am the choreographer for the Miss Georgia Competition. 53 contestants, whittled down to one lady chosen to represent our state in the Miss America Competiton. And I have to teach them everything, from how to walk to how to stand to how to step-touch in a production number. In three and a half days. Not an easy task. As you can imagine, there are those that think they are 'the one' and walk around with an air of diva. There are the ones who could care less about being Miss Georgia, much less about Miss America. There is catty-ness, back stabbing, and all around bitching...and that's just from the male dancers. Including myself, there are six. Two of them are fresh out of high school, and are eager little beavers, willing to take direction and do as I ask. But a couple of them have gotten on my last nerve. Do these guys not realize that I can make life as a dancer difficult for them? I love the look on their faces when they try to grovel to get back into my good graces. After the first preliminary competition tonight, two different people approached us and asked if we would be available to perform for some other events. I oh-so-politely told them we would be more than happy, as long as I got to choose which of the dancers would be asked to perform. Shoot yourself in the foot, you won't dance anymore. Simple as that. Keep it up and they may not be dancing for the televised finals on Saturday. I love having power like that.

Now, I have some ladies I need to teach to walk in heels...

Beat It...Just Beat It

Not that I really care about these things, but the verdict went down (how appropriate) yesterday for Michael Jackson. Not guilty on all counts. No surprise there. The man has more money than Oprah. I am not saying he did it, but they don't call him Jacko for nothing. Sorry, I had to go there. I have no proof whatsoever that he did anything that he was accused of. No one really knows but the kids who stayed in his home at Neverland. THERE is the true crime. The parents that let their children stay there, even after earlier accusations of 'inappropriate behavior', they are the ones that should be on trial. Of course, it's not a crime to be stupid. I say their sentence should be having to spend the night with MJ themselves. That would be infinitely worse than years in the pokey with someone named Bubba calling you 'honey'. Then again, it would be the perfect place to learn some new make-up tips. Maybe his next endeavor will be the Michael Jackson School of Cosmetology. Specializing in cover-up for those unsightly pimples that occur with the onset of puberty. Give the gals at the Clinique counter a run for their money.

Now if I can just find my silver glove, I have some moonwalking to do....

Road Rage...Vengeance Is Mine

Ok, some national poll just came out that listed Atlanta as the number one city for bad traffic. Which is really nothing new to me. As an Atlanta native (yes, there are a few of us still around), I am quite used to dealing with traffic snarls. Half a decade ago there was urban sprawl, and now there is a resurgence to move back into the city. Either way, at any given point in time in the past decade, I guarantee that there has been construction on at least one major highway in our fair city. And there's always an accident on one highway that causes a trickle down effect and snags up other arteries as well. I always try to leave a little early when I go someplace, just in case. Prudence suggests it. What gets me is all these idiot drivers out there who think they are the only ones on the road. We are all stuck in the same traffic. No one is going anywhere. But by birth right, they are evidently allowed to circumnavigate the mess. Case in point. Yesterday evening there was an accident that had three lanes closed on GA 400 south. So one person decides they are going to drive down the emergency lane, I assume to get to the next exit, which is over a mile down the highway. And like cattle, cars started pulling off, one after the other, and doing the same thing. I sat there getting more and more ticked off. What emergency did these people have? I didn't see anyone in any of the vehicles that passed that looked like they were in the throes of childbirth or spurting blood from a dismembered appendage. So I decided to exact my own personal traffic justice. When there was a gap in the flow of those who were so blatantly disobeying the law, I edged my vehicle into the emergency lane just enough as to impede anyone from passing without going four-wheeling in the median. Evil, I know. But someone needed to make a stand. I mean, I was headed to the same exit. And if I was going to wait in traffic to get there, then by God, so was everyone else. As you can imagine, this did not go over well with those behind me. The guy in the car immediately behind me decided to lay on his horn. My response, I just turned up the radio and blocked it out. Nothing like listening to the soundtrack from 'The Lion King' at full volume. Who knew I could make my car vibrate like that. Eventually, there were several cars behind me, all agitated I am sure at the fact that I was not allowing them to pass. We inched along with other traffic, slowly making our way towards the freedom that the exit promised. Funny thing, cars in the next lane over would pass, and I swear that every one of them looked over at me and waved or gave a thumbs up. The fear that someone behind was going to pull out a bazooka and kill me for my act of defiance was soon surpassed by the outpouring of support I had received from my fellow law-abiding citizens. And the powers that be must have looked favorably on my action as well. For when we finally reached the exit, I was able to catch the light at just the right time, able to leave those that I had so cunningly snared waiting at the red light!!!! I didn't have to actually see any of them drive past me and pop a finger up or try to run me off the road. I made it home safely, and lived to face another day.

Friday traffic is always fun. Maybe I'll get in the center lane this evening and do 55...

Mashed or Baked...Potato, Po-TAH-to...

Ok, I think it is official. I have turned into a couch potato. This was one of the rare weekends when I had absolutely nothing I HAD to do. Did not have to teach, polo practice is cancelled for Sunday morning....no plans at all. So I thought I would have a productive weekend of running errands, maybe enjoying some quality time outdoors, catch up with some friends. I got up yesterday and went to the gym and had a good workout, came home and showered, and decided to check out what was on the television. BIG mistake!!! I proceeded to sit on the couch for the next 7 or 8 hours, flipping channels, and generally stuffing my face. I watched reruns of several bad 80s sitcoms, pretended to be hetero and watched some sports whilst consuming beer, reversed the effects of that by watching the Home & Garden channel (you should see...what's on HGTV!!!...that jingle is very addictive), watched a couple of movies, and rounded out the day with an hour and a half of CNN Headline news. Sure, it's basically the same stories every half an hour. But after that much television, it took three times for any of it to sink in. Over the course of all this viewing, I ate two bowls of cereal, a snickers bar, some sour cream and onion potato chips, some hickory barbecue potato chips, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, some ice cream, and the a gyro.

I am amazed at several things. First, my brain didn't spontaneously turn to mush as my parents had led me to believe would happen from too much tv. Second, my cat is a pig and will eat anything. Third, beer makes any sport better.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think there is a movie marathon about to start on Lifetime tv...