I had a stereo, a hairbrush, and a box full of thrift shop dresses and
my grandmother’s old nightgowns.  I twirled and kicked, spun gloriously
around my bedroom floor, grabbed hold of the bed post, my makeshift
dance partner, waved my arms and hands in the air and sang every word to
every MGM musical I knew.  I was a star.

Read the rest of this post over at Bamboo Magazine Green Room Blog.  If you’ve never read Bamboo,  you really need to drop by and visit. 

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