To Be An Acrobat

I have found that all women are potential candidates for acrobats though a series of personal observation.

First of all I would like to set forward an example of my roomate who was, no different from me, a advocater for flatties. And the first years in college had all been worn out in these flatties, in which we jumped and walked, laughed and grew.

Day upon graduation. For sake of interview and for sake to make uslook more mature (well, babyfaces we are actually), she made a bold decision by buying her first pair of high-heel shoes and after that, the central topic of my doom was changed from various subjects into nothing more than high-heel shoes related ones.

Of course these kinds of shoes are not as friendly as those old sweet flatties.

But she made it after half a year's practice and now she is walking proudly in her high-heels, and is even able to produce smile while doing so.(In the past, all she wore as an air of bitterness, also determination, if you are careful enough of course.)

It is now MY turn.

See, I am never the kind of high-heel person. I am not tall, but not short either. So there is no urgent necessity to rush into this trend. And I have got a descent job without even performing on the high-heels, which provides proof of my good luck. But someday passing a shoe shop, I was immediately attracted by a pair

of red shinging leather shoes. It fit exactly into the category of my childhood

dream and what's more, it is affordable to me. So I bought it at the discounted

price at RMB100, which seems to be a bargin given its quality.

Days have been passing without being noticed and my beloved shoes have been covered with dust under my bed. I never have the gut to try it on and walk outside.

I did once tries it on to show my classmates next door, but the five-minute journey from dorm to dorm had killed all the feeble confidence in me. It KILLS to wear high-heel shoes! Backed by this conclusion, the nice dream of wearing the beautiful symbol of a fair lady have been sit on and on.

Till today. Working all day on uninterested subject somehow turned me into a brave girl and I decided to wear it and take the challenge of a 40-minute walk, to

the library and back.

The once 5-minute walk was at least doubled to no less than 10. And there was nowhere to sit when picking up needy books from the bookshelves. The shaking of the legs were obvious, the pain of the tip toes penetrating. The smile was gone and instead the tendency of miserable take turns. But I managed to hide it (at least thsi was what I thought).

Carrying five huge dictionaries in hand I was finally on my way back, attracting

much much more eyes than before. I guess those boys were really tempted to lend

me a hand but were frightened away by the forced smile on my face.

Back in dorm. The first thing was to take off the shoes and caught a breath. Secretly but loudly I talked to myself, "Well, compared with the labor of wearing high-heels and playing the role of an acrobat, can the once tough task of an academic paper be brought forward?"

And here I am, glad that it is the dissertation which I have to finish, not the

course for acrobats on stilt.