I hate running. Ballet makes me hate my body. I lived in the living room of an apartment for a year (for a third of that time, a corner of the living room.) Lots of boys are stupid for lots of different reasons; and how I end up with so many ex-girlfriends is still a mystery to me.
I hate being fiscally responsible. I despise being a part of the working poor - enough to warrant some government sponsorship.
New York public transportation is simultaneously my life line and the bane of my existence.
And yet when I get just a taste of happiness: my God-sent roommate and home; a press mention; parents who drive four hours each way just to see 40 minutes of my dancing; performance night...
It's all worth it.