What are your new year's resolutions? I am afraid to make any. If I tell myself I'm going to do pilates twice a week it most certainly won't ever happen, so screw it. And life is so complicated... I just give up. God damn it, I resolve to eat more snow cones and sleep in later in 2016.
What do I need to work on? Huh. Lots of things? I need to work on my anxiety, and on relating to other chronic pain sufferers without getting annoyed and frustrated with them. I need to remember to tell my aspie exactly what I need when I need it and not get grumpy and internalize everything because he's not a fucking psychic. I should almost certainly get myself a more viable career, because "loving what I do" is incompatible with $20,000 vet bills.
Bleh.
I need to remember to stand en pointe with all my energy going down through my ankles and out my toes. I should figure out why I am so wretched at landing pirouettes, but boy howdy good luck on that one. I should write more prose because it makes me happy. I need to find the time and money and energy to drive several hours in search of a good pointe shoe fitter who can hook me up with plastic shoes. It would be nice if I could eventually get back to where I was before I took that five month break and destroyed my ballet groove. I did land a double pique turn last night, but it was more of a fluke than anything else. You know you've done something pretty special when your teacher gives you a thumbs up rather than saying anything.
Blah blah blah...
Showing posts with label blah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blah. Show all posts
Monday, January 11, 2016
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
In Hell You Probably Have to Wear Brand New Pointe Shoes ALL THE TIME
Two months. That's how long it's been since I posted. Everyone else has stopped posting, too, so... I guess I'm just a follower? Honestly, I just haven't been compelled. It's hard to feel inspired when you A) have been writing about the same subject for four years, and B) get very little feedback except from your parents.
I hate when bloggers come back after a hiatus and say "oh boy, guys! I am totally going to start posting twice a week and it's gonna be amazing!" and then you never hear from them again. So lame. So, I am not doing that. Will I be posting in the future? Meh. Maybe? There are a lot of posts I never got around to writing but always wanted to. Like advice for what to wear to your first ballet class and the reality that the most "perfect" ballet body is not usually the one in class that is blowing us all out of the water with bitchin' technique and grace. But will those posts get written? I leave that for fate to decide.
If you've followed this far, I thank you kindly.
I hate when bloggers come back after a hiatus and say "oh boy, guys! I am totally going to start posting twice a week and it's gonna be amazing!" and then you never hear from them again. So lame. So, I am not doing that. Will I be posting in the future? Meh. Maybe? There are a lot of posts I never got around to writing but always wanted to. Like advice for what to wear to your first ballet class and the reality that the most "perfect" ballet body is not usually the one in class that is blowing us all out of the water with bitchin' technique and grace. But will those posts get written? I leave that for fate to decide.
If you've followed this far, I thank you kindly.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
The Dying of Boredom Swan
Well. There's that, then.
My dad had his surgery today, and I am now playing the good daughter and taking care of him (and cleaning the bathroom because dad, you need to clean your bathroom sometimes) until he's back to driving again. Unfortunately the surgeon quadrupled his recovery time estimate as soon as he got in there. So, I will be here for a good long while, yet. I will try not to whine about missing ballet too much, but it's already taking a back seat to missing my husband. I am basically trying not to think about it. I am physically wrecked (six hours of driving, plus not getting much sleep the last few nights, plus sitting in the hospital lobby for about five hours will do that to you, even if you don't already have janky knees and hands. I eventually had to stand up in the lobby and walk around for a while just so my knees wouldn't seize up any worse than they already had. I caught myself absently doing a little tiny lunge-from-fifth-tendu-back-weight-transfer-tendu-forward and kinda cracked myself up.) and emotionally exhausted (oh god, you mean it only gets worse as they get older? *whimper*)
So, what is stranger? That my dad just fell asleep to the sound of The Dying Swan on his stereo, or the fact that it wasn't playing my music collection? Or, better still, that I recognized it within about three notes?
My dad had his surgery today, and I am now playing the good daughter and taking care of him (and cleaning the bathroom because dad, you need to clean your bathroom sometimes) until he's back to driving again. Unfortunately the surgeon quadrupled his recovery time estimate as soon as he got in there. So, I will be here for a good long while, yet. I will try not to whine about missing ballet too much, but it's already taking a back seat to missing my husband. I am basically trying not to think about it. I am physically wrecked (six hours of driving, plus not getting much sleep the last few nights, plus sitting in the hospital lobby for about five hours will do that to you, even if you don't already have janky knees and hands. I eventually had to stand up in the lobby and walk around for a while just so my knees wouldn't seize up any worse than they already had. I caught myself absently doing a little tiny lunge-from-fifth-tendu-back-weight-transfer-tendu-forward and kinda cracked myself up.) and emotionally exhausted (oh god, you mean it only gets worse as they get older? *whimper*)
So, what is stranger? That my dad just fell asleep to the sound of The Dying Swan on his stereo, or the fact that it wasn't playing my music collection? Or, better still, that I recognized it within about three notes?
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