You know that moment when you think something is easy, and you're like, "Yeah, I can totally do that in a week with some practice."
The worst is: we all believe we can do it easily.
So the other day, one of my classmates showed a Youtube video with a pole dancer.
And I was like: Me too, I can do it!
I can do it dude How hard can it be seriously?
Yeah, I totally can.
So I put my battledress, and got ready to do some pole dance.
Plus, my boyfriend will be happy. Men like pole dancing, right?
First an easy position. I have fifteen years of dancing behing me, I am pretty sure I can rock it. How hard can it be? You're basically holding your body with your hand. E-A-S-Y.
Okay, it was my first shot, it will be better tomorrow. It's always like that, trust me. In dance or music or any field, if you can't do something today, you'll rock it tomorrow (y).
For example: I played piano for fifteen years. When my hands have to play really fast, I just stop practicing and repeat tomorrow and it works!
Turns out, playing piano (with fifteen years of practice behind me) and doing pole dance (with a history of two minutes and a half) are not the same. Who would have believed it?
But I am not losing hope, I believe in my sexiness.
Let's try another position!
Ehhhhhhhhhh
What is on my face you're asking? Those are my freaking boobs.
My boobs are absolutely not small, and absolutely not muscular (unlike the pole dancers). Turns out, if my head is upside down, every roll of fat, every heavy part of me, including my boobs, obey the laws of gravity. My entire being is attracted to the center of earth.
Did you hear about this theory: the more an object/body is heavy, the more it is attracted to the Earth's core?
...Shut up I am not fat, I'm fluffy. #Gabrieliglesias
Plus, who can do this with heels? (Correction: Who can do anything with heels? Absolutely not me.)
Okay I am still motivated I can do this!
Third position.
... Conclusion?
I suck ass at being sexy. I really do. Also, did I tell you my cheeks follow gravity too? (And so do my double chin, my cheeks, my boobs again and my belly fat, but I was too embarassed to draw it.)
I give up. I am going to lay down.
Did someone say food?
Food!
There is food somewhere.
I am not proud of myself.
Have you ever seen a cartoon drawing, where there is a donkey walking because there is a carrot hanging in front of him?
Thats me. I need a carrot to work out.
As it happens, the carrot should be a really fat, fat, fat chocolate cake. Or a quesadilla. Or a perfectly cooked hamburger. Or Girl Scout cookies, oh my god yes.
Fuck it, I'll just make my boyfriend watch "Magic Mike," maybe he'll get the motivation to be stripper for me. #Dontstopbelievin
