Par avion…

Finally AirFrance has realized who their target demographic is: romantic girls predisposed to silly charges on their credit card in order to obtain the idealistic notions they harbor on France, Parisians, feline-insight and yes, of course, a deep-rooted love of ballet.

My dad took me to see the Nutcracker when I was 2.  I was so enthralled, he loves to tell me, I made him allow me to stand on the back rim of the seats in front of us while he held my back, keeping two year-old me in a plank-ish diagonal until I fell asleep propped up and/or standing.  When he was carrying me to the car I told him I wanted to be a ballerina.  He wished me luck, but said, very seriously, to make sure I was “very certain” about my chosen profession as a ballerina, as true ballerinas endured a radical operation called “bunny footing,” which swapped out their normal feet for surgically enhanced (permanent) bunny feet, or toe shoes.  Every time I tell him this story he roars with laughter like the big old bear he is.  Pleased with himself even 27 years later.


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