F this S

I'm in such a ballet funk. I really just don't want to go at all, right now. It has been a few months since work and life permitted regular twice-a-week class attendance, and I haven't taken pointe since May. And now that time is opening up? I just don't wanna! I am doing it because without ballet I am considerably less mobile and in a whole lot more pain. I'm just not enjoying myself at all.
One of the issues is that a new teacher has taken over two of my regular classes. And he's great, don't get me wrong. But it's different. Every teacher has a different style, and he isn't giving me the same experience that I have grown to expect and find comforting. He's teaching pointe, now, too, which makes me really hesitate to get back in to it. He really is a nice guy, and a good teacher, but...
sigh...

PS: trying to apply steroids directly to my scalp is not my favorite part of rheumatism. Wait, RPrin, you have a favorite part? Hell yes. All the best people have rheumatism. Me, my sister... my cat... uh... Lady Gaga...

'We feel dancey'

“...fairies never say 'We feel happy': what they say is, 'We feel dancey'.”
― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens *

 illustration by Arthur Rackham (hittin' it out of the park, as always)

*this is such a weird story. The prototype for what eventually became the play and then novel Peter Pan, this novella is both a little morbid and desperately tragic. As if the story wasn't already messed up enough, now you get the first hand experience of Peter discovering his mother has "replaced" him, and the little naked boy running around in the snow burying the children that have died after getting locked into the park at night. So. Weird. 

Hardly Workin'

I just worked eleven days in a row, mostly 11 hour per day. Because apparently it was someone's bright idea to build an entire show out of flimsy silken nothingness and no one planned on... you know... hiring people to put it together. My joints no longer function, but that's okay; my brain doesn't either.
An incredible amount of the past two weeks of my life is in this picture:

 just click on the damn thing for the attribution, I have 

no brain nor patience left for that shit

and even though I pretty much despise every single one of these dresses, now, at least it is over and done with and my life can spiral slowly back to normal. Which apparently means binge-watching the entire fifth season of Downton Abbey in two days, but whatever.
I took class last night. Apparently I have forgotten how my feet work.