She asked me what she was supposed to call me now. Yep. She knew it was me. We talked until Mom got there, and she kinda figured out what was going on so offered 'Nessa a ride home and we talked until we dropped her off. She's supposed to call me this weekend.

Guess what else I learned today?

It's something that anyone can learn, given enough time and a sadistic enough ballet instructor.

It doesn't matter if you know what muscle you're stretching out, because they'll all hurt afterward. Lots.

Okay, so tell me again how ritualized sharing of pain while wearing leotards and leg warmers equals grace and beauty of movement?