The Ides of March. Or Whatever.

"You are so good at this"
That's a nice thing to hear your teacher say, while standing directly behind you at the barre. We were, for the record, doing some crazy développé variation that included strange fondu-esque synchronized leg straightening. I was hitting it out of the park, I guess. Because I am just a badass like that. In all honesty it's probably the only thing I did well all night, but you have to take what you can get.
I've also been getting a lot of praise on my posture, lately. I have two lovely curves in my spine which freaked out my pediatrician and make standing up straight a matter of opinion more than anything else. I get SO much crap for my posture. Like, constant crap. For some reason I recently tried straightening my back by pulling my pelvis all out of whack and pushing back as hard as I possibly can with the lower third of my spine. Apparently that did the trick. It does make balances easier, I'll give it that.

Blargh. March. I really hate March. Nothing good happens in March. I am having a hard time not feeling like punching everyone I meet right now, so please excuse the terrible lag in blog posts! I am winding up for a VERY long and stressful Spring and Summer, in which I will be working like a dog and trying to be a good maid of honor at the same time. Recital season is approaching fast and I've already been tasked with figuring out how to turn a bunch of kids in to geese and a bunch more in to water lilies (water lilies are... they are round, flat, green things. Here ya go, kid, I made you a swathe of green spandex stretched over a hula hoop. Now look graceful! Haaa... no. I promise not to make any small children suffer. Much.) Mostly I am looking forward to September, simply because I will be done with all these obligations. That should tell you something.

Not fo' pussies, yo!

Of the top 9 Google search terms that direct traffic to this blog 6 are about Princess Leia. One is about Hugh Laurie.
How about them apples?

I'm exhausted today. I don't know why, really. After Friday's class I felt okay. And then Saturday my husband and I went out picking up trash along the river for a little while, which involves walking and hiking up and down inclines. But I didn't feel too bad after that, either. Sunday I managed to not get any sleep (I could blame the fact that we're adjusting my meds again, I could blame the pain that started up in my knee, but really it is because I was on a Pinterest tear. Oh joy! A place to pin all my favorite pictures of shoes and ballerinas! It's like it was made just for me! Sigh.) so I felt kind of awful all day yesterday. And there was this horrible deep ache in my right knee. Worse than usual. But I spent some time giving myself a deep massage in the area that hurt the worst (let me tell you, it's not a soothing massage. It's like finding a spot that hurts and then shoving on it so hard and for so long that you need to go take a lie down. Remarkably, however, it helps.) so I haven't been as bad today.
But class kicked me to the curb. Fondu usually kills me, but this was a remarkably long stretch of fondues. Oh man. KILLER.
And then there were 48 changements. I tried to do them low and as gently as possible.
But Jesus. It's like she's trying to kill us.
Ballet is NOT for pussies.