Pros, Toes, and the F-Bomb

Ballet season will be starting soon, and professionals will be heading back to their studios. So, where are they now? They are taking class with the variously challenged adult ballet students at my studio. What is it like taking class with a real dancer? Well, humbling. I certainly won't be dropping down in to those perfect splits anytime soon, or kicking in to a high and strong faille* with total grace and ease. On the other hand, watching some of our more advanced girls alongside the pro gives you a real appreciation for how far you actually can go as an adult recreational dancer.
I also felt good about doing my fondues on flat rather than demi-pointe because she was doing it as well.

PS: we spent our full hour of pre-pointe last night at the barre. You might think that doing a whole class of relevés would be easier than normal, but you'd be wrong. In fact, I think my feet hurt more than they ever have. Apparently my teacher recently brought home a copy of the Pointe Book and now she's all excited about trying out the exercises it recommends. I can't imagine how the girls on pointe are feeling today, I was on demi-pointe and I feel like a train wreck!



* this word is usually pronounced "fye-ee" in ballet but "file" in most fabric situations. I bet in France they don't say it either way! In fact, I just looked it up! I was right! Check it.

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.

Pre-pointe: how it went down

Okay, so pre-pointe class. How was it? Brutal. Stone. Cold. Brutal. But I lived to tell the tale! After a full 1 1/2 hour technique class I limped in to pre-pointe. It was pretty fun, actually. Lots of strength building. Relevés at the barre. Piqué arabesques. Chaînés. You get the picture. Lots of stuff where you are hanging out on your toes. Which is good, because I actually really enjoy that strengthening stuff. Whenever the teacher says "time for piqué roll downs" or "okay, put your leg up on the barre" everyone else groans and I go "awesome! Let's do this thing!". By the time we hit that last set of continuous relevés on one foot, though, I was ready to call it a DAY.
Today I feel it in my hips more than I had expected. Probably because I was focusing really hard on proper placement when we were at the barre. Holding turn-out properly and rising directly over my second and third toes rather than wobbling up there like (let's face it, ladies) we usually do.
Today I feel like I've been in some sort of accident, only I paid for the privilege and I'm raring to go back and do it again next week! Ballet, guys. It's hard.
I gotta tell you, though. Do not pick a fight with a ballet dancer. All that tininess and fragile grace is a total illusion. She can probably kill you with one swift kick in the junk.

Related: ballet class is probably the only place where someone you don't know very well can walk up to you and stroke your inner thigh and be like "that is great, RPrin!*" and it isn't even awkward at all.

*new abbreviation for this blog's title. Because it takes too long to type the whole thing and I am king lazy bones. Looks a little like a celebrity couple name, but I promise not to divorce myself so it's okay.

Pre-pointe!

So, I am going to take pre-pointe on Thursday. I've decided. I asked and it was okay. I think 3 solid hours of class will probably kill me but I am going to give it a go.
On Tuesday I got to witness the pointe "test" for a couple of my classmates. 32 relevés on each individual foot, one at a time. 32! No barre. And balance/placement count. I died just watching it. Four people took the test, two passed it. I think I will go sit down with my compression socks for a while and just pretend I don't know what is in store for me.
I have a bunch of make up classes that will carry me through the next two months+ without paying extra tuition for the pre-pointe class. Because FO SHO our vet bills right now are STUPID expensive. This cat can start eating on her own again any old time. I found myself working overtime today and thinking "hmm. Well. Two hours of overtime equals three pointe classes." which probably says something.
Also, I guess I am going to be doing relevés every time I go to the bathroom for a while.

No.

No, foot. No no no no no. I do not need another body part to be in constant pain. Especially not my foot. Knock it the hell off, foot, I want to take pre-pointe on Thursday.