cabriole is the new assemblé

If orange (or gray, or puce, or what-the-hell-ever) is the new black, then cabrioles are the new assemblé. If you obsessively memorize every thing I post here (and let's face it, even I don't do that. Well. Not always.) then you know that assemblé has traditionally been my least favorite ballet step. Because when you are first learning them they not only look stupid (like a cartoon frog, and I won't change my mind about that) but feel like the end times. I have very little bounce in my proverbial bungee, and petite allegro is basically my Achilles heel. Achilles ballet step? Something like that. As time has gone on I have thankfully progressed to a level where I am not asked to perform solid assemblés for ten minutes at a time, and a crappy assemblé is pretty easy to hide when it is only one of a string of disastrously crappy steps all crammed together in a petite allegro combination.
ANYWAY.
My new least favorite step to hate (my frenemy, you might say) is cabriole. Cabrioles, contrary to what their name seems to imply, are not small boxy sports cars, but a big and impressive grand allegro step wherein you throw yourself up in to a graceful leap and smack your feet together in the air before coming back down again. Cabrioles sure look exciting when they are well executed. But when I attempt them? Ridiculous. Aside from feeling like you are going to plunge to your death at any moment they also look like hell. I am sure I would improve at them if I spent some time practicing... which is really too bad, since I have mostly given up practicing every single thing. Ah, yes... that dedication business is all well and good, but apparently I can only keep it up for a year or two before burnout sets in. Hmm. Well, I am sure I will improve dramatically at SOMEthing. Drinking an entire bottle of water at one go, perhaps. Or walking past my neighbors in my ballet togs without feeling self-conscious.

I'm finally back to a full ballet schedule after the disaster that was my past month or so. Pointe class was sort of a wreck, but I will survive. No one says I have to be good at what I'm doing, after all!

To Ze Lumber Yard!

A couple of times now (pretty sure it's going to be in the recital) we've done this combination across the floor. It starts with a standard set of chassé-sauté arabesques and then all hell breaks loose and you bring one foot in to coupé derriere and then some piqué craziness happens and... well god only knows.
But today, in the lumber aisle at the hardware store (we're moving. I spend like ten hours a week at the hardware store, these days.) while I was waiting for my husband and the wood-cutting dude to finish their tête-à-tête, I sort of veeeerrrrrry slooooooooowly cranked it out. No one was watching me, I feel like I should mention that. Then I did it on the other side. You know, so I would be even.

Two-Parter

In my ballet world:
I'm starting to champ a little on the proverbial bit. I'm certainly struggling with my level 3 class but I feel like I could do better faster if I could work on the level 3 stuff more than once a week. Because let's face it, my kitchen floor is something like 3-4 feet across. Tombé-pas de bourré-pirouette combinations aren't happening in here. Especially when there is a great big box taking up half my floor space that is filled with everything that I can no longer put under my sink because my landlord never fixed the gaping hole the plumber punched in the cabinet floor. BUT that is another story.
Anyway. So, I am feeling a little held back in my level 1-2 class, but there is no other dedicated level 3 class. The only other option is a level 3-5 class on Thursdays that most of the girls are taking as a pre-req for pointe. I've talked to my classmates about it and they all agree that it's way more advanced than my level three class. And so I am a bit terrified about it. I'm sort of working myself up to asking about it. I almost fell over doing pirouettes on Tuesday, so maybe I will ask about it later.
The level 1-2 class has so many new students that we don't all fit at the barre, anymore. We don't even all fit at the barre plus two portable barres with some people hanging off the ends. It's crazy. I guess ballet is the hip new thing for grown-ups? It's a little difficult getting through everything in an hour and a quarter, now. And sometimes people just plain get on my nerves. Don't get me wrong, I think that it's great to have new people! And, of course, I am thrilled that my studio is able to support itself and my wonderful teacher (she said "I don't know why we have so many new students! Is it that Black Swan movie?" I, for one, don't know why the hell anyone would watch that movie then WANT to learn ballet. UCK.)

****at this point you may stop reading if the health stuff bores you****

In my rheumatism world:
I hurt. Like hell, to be honest. I am not pointing fingers and saying that the acupuncture was to blame. I do think I tend to flare up worse right before my period (Retaining water? More inflammatory whats-it in my system? More sensitivity to pain?) so this could have a hormonal component, and it was already starting to act up before I set foot in the clinic. But it sure hasn't helped, either.
This particular flare-up is coming with much more intense pain smack-dab right in the heart of my knee joints. I often get a lot of the worst pain as a kind of peripheral action all along the connective tissues that hold your kneecap in place. But, I fear this is a new development that will continue to vex me. It's keeping me awake a lot at night which sucks because one of the most unmanageble parts of this whole thing is that flare-ups come with this overwhelming exhaustion. I eventually have to drag myself out of bed at some point in the day, but I could quite easily sleep past 1pm, no problem.
*sigh*
I talked to an old family friend (whom I recently realized I have known since I was FIVE. Holy crap!) who has been having acupuncture for years with great success. She said she didn't get any results for a while, either, so I should hang in there. I figure I have nothing to lose, and for 15 bucks I can't beat the price of a treatment, so they can basically try anything they want. I believe it was sterling author Terry Pratchett who, when questioned about the lengths to which he would go to beat his debilitating Alzheimer's disease, said "Personally, I'd eat the arse out of a dead mole if it offered a fighting chance."

The Apathy Patrol

So I was dreading going away for a long time because I knew that when I came back home and once again faced going to class twice a week I would have to deal with my old enemy: complete apathy. It's just that... when I am dancing a lot then I want to dance a lot. But if I'm not? Then... I would just rather sit at home and eat smarties and watch Mythbusters. When I get back in to it it will be fine, but until then I know that it's going to be hard, and hurt, and make me all sweaty, and I will probably get a migraine afterward. And I'll  have to sit around with ice packs all over my body when I get home. And I have to drive ten miles to the studio through rush hour/Christmas shopping traffic and/or take the train through the ghetto in the dark. And. And. And. The point is that my brain is telling me it would rather just stay home if it's going to be so much trouble to go to class.
But. Tonight I am back home (may be gone again next week, but only time will tell) and, like a good girl, I went to class. That would be my level 3 class, by the way. In case you were wondering how badass I am. I answer is: totally. I am totally badass.
Class... kicked my butt. Pretty much. I can definitely feel the fact that I didn't do anything for three weeks. Well, that's not true. I shoveled snow. Was it hard work? Yes. Did it help me remain in ballet-condition? Not even a little bit.
I had to learn how to stand again, and where my feet are supposed to go. And then I flailed around badly for a while while we attempted combinations that I had never seen before. Also, apparently, while I was away they started some new stuff. So I just had to fake it through those parts. HA. Did I mention how badass I am? Because it's a lot. It did put me in mind, though, of that time in elementary school when I was out sick while they taught the whole class the multiplication table and then when I got back no one noticed and so I spent the next two years trying to learn how to multiply and divide ALL BY MY SELF. Ahem. But, you know, with enveloppe* at the barre instead of actually important stuff.
Not that I am bitter or anything.

*I'm sure enveloppe should have an accent mark in there somewhere. But I'll be darned if I can actually find it online.

Self-Motivation for Dummies

In all honesty I've been having a terrible time self-motivating this week. It's felt like the longest week in recent memory, and now that I think about it, it's probably almost two full weeks since I went to class. I'm claiming emotional exhaustion, PMS, and snow. Yes, it's snowing. I live in central California, which maybe hails briefly once or twice a year, but snow (especially vast accumulations of snow) is totally beyond my realm of experience. But here in the woods, oh yes, it snows. I have also been stymied in my attempt to occupy time by sewing stuffed bunnies for the babies in the family this xmas (six!) by a sewing machine that is on the fritz. I brought dance slippers with me, and even wrote myself a little list of things to work on in my spare time. Pirouettes, headlines, double frappes... but I just haven't worked myself up to it much. Not that the time isn't available, just that I feel like folding in to a ball when the opportunity presents itself.
*sigh*

Self-motivation...

So terrible. Hopefully posting this will make me feel so guilty that I will actually get on with it.

Pretty Pirouettes Preface Parental Predicament

*sigh*...
Well, I've taken my last level three class for the next month. I am taking my 1-2 class on Friday and dropping in on another 1-2 class on Monday and then that's it. Tuesday I drive for four hours and then I'm off taking care of my dad until he can drive again (shoulder surgery). They are saying at least a month, up to four. I doubt it will be longer than a month because my father will climb the walls and drive both of us insane if he can't work for much longer than that. If I didn't have to work for a month I would take it easy, but this man is not going to be having it. Not that I am going to be too thrilled about being away from my job, my husband, my cats, and my bed for that long, either. I have four new books to read (plus Don Quixote on my iPhone, which is quite the slog, but it's one of those books you have to read. It's actually got some really clever bits to it, and some quite funny moments that are the prototypes of modern parody.) and six stuffed bunnies to make for Christmas, so I will at least keep myself occupied.
Tuesday night I took class without the splint on my sprained wrist for the first time in over a month! It wasn't all peaches and cream, but it sure made barre easier and I could actually find my balance a few times, which for some reason my wrist has been screwing up terribly.  Also, it means I didn't have to sweat all over the splint, which is good news for everyone.
Head lines are still killing me (so I will be attempting to practice them in the kitchen at Dad's house) but I'm starting to get the hang of pirouettes to a certain extent. It's quite exciting, of course, as pirouettes are so integral to what most people think of as the essence of ballet. At Romeo and Juliet on Sunday I was thinking, though, that pirouettes are actually kind of odd looking. They require a definite gearing-up moment and almost look best when performed by a man, or in an energetic period piece. Maybe piqué turns are more girly, I'm not sure. I think most people are just using the term "pirouette" to mean a ballerina twirling around, and of course there are so many different ways to twirl around! Anyhow, I shall be practicing those, as well, because I am damn well going to have something down pat by the time I drag my wobbling, squodgy self back in to the studio!