Hey, here's my impression of me...

The other night I was walking with a group of friends who were doing stupid impressions of each other and someone says: "Hey, here's an impression of Paul.", which consisted of swift walking, hands in pockets, and silence. The portrait was met with no small amount of laughter, so you know there's some truth there.

Flashback to the job we had over Christmas in Seattle. A woman tells me that, while she was at dinner, a group of the students were talking about teachers and the conversation eventually landed on me. One guy, a newer dancer, says: "Oh, I hate that guy. He's such an arrogant son of a bitch."

Flashback to Tuesday. Sharon and I had a lunchtime, organizational meeting with some dancers and I wasn't happy about how it went. I told her that I wasn't interested in going to any more meetings like that and she says: "No. You have to. You're the silver backed gorilla. They love the alpha male energy. I need you there to balance things out."

Interesting.

There was a time when I would have been upset about all three for different reasons, but I feel much more detatched now. I can step out and look at Paul without having to feel anything about him. He's like a friend of mine that I can have thoughts about like any other friend. It's good to know how other people feel about him and each bit of information I gather is like a gift. Paul is a science experiment.

In the past I would have taken these comments and carried them around with me forever. "Am I an arrogant son of a bitch?" "I am an arrogant son of a bitch!" "Wait, am I?" Etcetera. I didn't know myself at all back then. I had lots of romantic notions about how I should be and I had lots of unrealistic expectations that I could never meet. I missed a lot of beauty while I was busy kicking myself. I don't do that anymore, but now maybe I give myself too much slack.