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In ALL, FOOD LOVE by Stephanie Klein4 Comments

I’m no athlete. I tried to pretend with soccer all through high school. My positions: stopper and sweeper. Mainly, I just liked playing when I was pissed because it gave me permission to shove and kick. Otherwise, while midfield pushed forward, I’d push back my cuticles. I tried LAX, but only so I’d get to wear the shirt. I was even able to choose my own number. Of course everyone on the team chose standard numbers running up to the low twenties. Except me. 69.

In the winter, it was basketball or cheerleading. Mom bought me the high-tops, and Dad tried really hard to coach me. It was useless. I was wretched. We compromised: cheerleading and tennis lessons. But first, I had to make the squad. When I first auditioned for the JV cheerleading squad, I had to perform a cheer, do a cartwheel, and fall into a split. “Adam Zipper, he’s our man, if he can’t do it, Todd can. Todd, Todd, he’s our man…” Oh, worse, even than that, “baskets, baskets, baskets boys, you make the baskets; we’ll make the noise.” My high school was too small for a football team.

Each night, I went home to practice, hoping I’d gain some flexibility, like fondled bread. When it came time to audition, I was so nervous, I literally fell into a split on the floor. I could have sworn my interior seam parted. I smiled through it; they fell for it and welcomed me to the squad. In all truth, the only reason I was on the team was for my incredible set… of lungs. The girl can belt like an opera singer. Lately, I’ve been doing some straddling.

I’ve been facilitating a difficult situation involving a close friend; the kind you fall into when you’re nervous. Ben-gay can’t help with this tear. Rest, isolation, compression, and elevation can heal a torn ligament; perhaps that goes for the heart. Usually, though, I’ve learned it’s probably a combination of a massage in a lofty, secluded suite at The Four Seasons and time. And while waiting can suck, at least you can wear a short skirt, kick up your legs and scream. I’ll hold your pom-poms. And I’ll use my lungs to cheer for you, my sweet girl. I love you.

Comments

  1. Uh, what? Do you like to talk around topics? It's not your job to make this easy on us, but at least give us a better clue than that…

  2. I think I am just as confused as D.J. You are straddling an issue that is making you nervous. It appears that it revolves around love and your previously broken heart that may not be fully healed or you are having doubts whether it is healed. If I am on track, then I am not exactly sure what you mean because a few days ago you said that you were 100% happy and did not need anyone. Or is it that you are nervous about being alone or moving forward into another relationship?

  3. usually an honest, thorough, and good explanation clears things up. and since laughter is soap for the heart, maybe all you'll need is a good explanation and something honest and funny to say. I know, I know it's hard to believe with several millenia of inflation things can still be this cheap, but the market for explanations is volatile especially with people returning to work on Wednesday instead of Tuesday…I mean come on now how many car accidents can someone have in a week…so it might be a good idea to call early and give an explanation on Monday and know that you can show up on Wednesday without having to be nervous….and hey I thought only Linus was allowed to be nervous…

  4. If possible, you've confused the situation even more…I don't even know what you're talking about, dimming my already dampened enthusiasm for your story…I started out with a lot of optimisim for your , and by extension, my own romantic future, but your peculiar, obtuse writing style and your penchant for not "telling it like it is" has led me to believe that your entry in the "Favorites" portion of IE will soon be deleted…sorry

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