How can they see with SEQUINS in their eyes?

For the past several weeks we've been doing this horrific dégagé combination at the barre. It involves counting and it's ridiculous and no one ever gets it right. Well, last night I freakin' NAILED that son of a bitch. That is right, STONE COLD NAILED IT. Well, on the first side, anyway. The left side will get there in it's own sweet time. Which isn't to say the rest of class went beautifully, but you have to seize your triumphs when they present themselves.

Last night I actually saw my teacher wearing pointe shoes! It was pretty astounding. Usually you won't catch ballet teachers within a mile of a pointe shoe, regardless of the class they are teaching. In fact, I could have sworn I once heard her say she wouldn't be caught dead in them (I believe the exact words were "wild horses could not drag me back in to pointe shoes") but there she was! Also: girlfriend straight up uses scotch tape on her toes. That ranks up there with folded up cheap paper towels, which I have also seen.
While she and the pointe students (I am the only person on flat in that class, now. Don't I just feel special) were all sitting on the lobby floor putting on their shoes I was standing alertly in the corner, absorbing their ribbon-tying instructions on the not-even-at-all sly. She looked at me and said "aw, RPrin. Do you feel left out?" and I was like "naw, naw. It's all good. I am learning from you guys" and she mentioned that she did not want to put me en pointe while I am still working at the theater (the season ends next month, and I go back to maybe-sorta earning a living from home for the next nine months) because it would be "a recipe for disaster". I wonder, do I really seem that harried and out of it right now? I mean, I AM harried and out of it, because I have to tube feed a cat at 6am and midnight every day. But STILL. I like to think I present an image of having my shit together.
It makes me think of one of my favorite songs (which, holy crap, we are staging at work this Summer. I am pretty excited.) I try to live the dream, man:

Obviously I am not doing such a great job of it.

Promotion!

Who just got promoted?
That's right.
ME!
Level THREE like it ain't no thang!
WOOOOO!

On Friday I will ask about schedules and such. With luck I can start going to one level 1-2 and one level 3 class next week. If I am not so lucky it will have to wait until September, but I am feeling pretty chuffed one way or the other.
Also SCARED TO DEATH!
NOOOOOOOoooooo! I still feel like the world is out to get me when I hit a particularly long stretch of fondues and I can't hook chaînés turns together quickly while still being able to spot my way out of a hole. And what about balancing? I feel like I am total rubbish at balancing. So I will give this a shot but I MIGHT DIE, GUYS.

In reality, when I look at where I started last September (in the very worst physical condition of my life) I am pretty impressed with myself in spite of everything.

The future is here, it's bright, it's now.
(That was a Regina Spektor reference. In case you were lost, there. Sorry. That is what happens in my brain, sometimes.)