Mama needs a new pair of shoes

After 150 years on the market you can pretty much expect a product to be refined, stream-lined, and darn-near perfected. Not clunky, horrible, and nearly-crippling. I AM LOOKING AT YOU, POINTE SHOES.
So. I finally got new pointes. Like, actually went to (braved) the only dancewear store in town (what the heck? There are easily dozens of studios in this city, how is there only ONE store that sells dance shoes?) and sat there for an hour trying on awful shoes while a professional dream-smasher critiqued my placement and shrugged at me. And now I have new shoes. Which? I totally despise. They are So Danca Auroras, and they suck. Okay, honestly, I kind of hated my other ones, too. But I think I've identified the problem. My feet are totally not the same size or shape as one another. They look fine, but they fit way differently. So, these new ones are okay on the right foot but not so much on the left. And the left? Yeah, that is my sliiiiightly longer leg. So basically all 130 pounds of my weight gets concentrated on the very tip of my left big toe and I want to die.
Sigh...
I'll figure it out some day. Some day... one day I will buy fancy plastic shoes at a big brightly-lit store in San Francisco, and then rainbows will trail effortlessly off my tip-toes while I leap gracefully on to the back of my unicorn and fly away...

Pilates: No Times

Number of times in my life I have thought to myself "oh boy! I can't wait to do some pilates!"
Zero. Zero times.
About once a year I get tired of having "lower abs, RPrin!" yelled at me ten times a week and start doing pilates. And then I start whining about it almost immediately.
Pilates.
I ... I really hate pilates. This has been discussed many times in the past. But unless and until some sort of magical ab workout materializes that can be done for half an hour every Wednesday and doesn't involve planks and that horrible arm pumping business I am sort of stuck with it. Because honestly, I am too lazy to do ten minutes every night before bed, or any of that nonsense. That's right, ballet, I am too lazy to do you properly. Am I ashamed? Maybe, but I am also quite literally amazed that I get out of bed some days, so I figure I am ahead of the game.

In other sort-of health news:
My ulcer is checking in to make sure I haven't forgotten it. Which hardly seems fair because the ulcer is directly related to the drugs I take for my arthritis. Which I have been forgetting to take on the regular. I have GOT to get my shit together, this is ridiculous. You can't have BOTH an ulcer and a flare up. PICK ONE RPRIN.

It's not a pooch it's a POODGE

I hate pilates. I really do. So it has been...many moons... since I last did any pilates videos on my own time. Uhm... possibly a year. Anyway...
My teacher has been on me about core strength for a while now. I am pretty darn tired of hearing about it (almost as tired as I am of hearing "smaller steps!" during chaînés turns). So maybe it's time to get back on the ol' ab train. Ugh.
Last week I tackled a boring and elderly pilates video that I have done many times in the past. This week it's 93* in the only room with enough space for that sort of thing (a previous tenant must have smoked in there, so I have to leave the window open perpetually), and the thought of half an hour on the floor in the heat (and amongst my dropped straight pins/piles of ugly prom dresses I am supposed to be altering) just wasn't making the cut. So... of course I turned to Pinterest. Because... well, honestly because Pinterest is where I spend most of my time that should be spent working out, anyway (pinning recipes for pomegranate champagne cupcakes > doing boring stinky old crunches).
Here is what Pinterest told me to do:

for the record? I could just about get my feet (barely) off the floor for about 2 seconds. But only if you count them really fast. ONEMISSISSIPPITWOMISSISSIPPII'MDONENOWOHMYGOD.

Too Legit to Quit

So I have this toenail. And it gives me guff when I forget to trim it really short, but it's usually no problem in regular shoes. It's only when it's squeezed up in ballet slippers that I remember "oh yeah, I should cut that nail". Sometimes I cut it shorter than usual, and then it gives me even MORE guff, and feels like an ingrown toenail just waiting to happen. So I always knew this was going to be a problem when I started pointe. There was never any question of that. I was trying to trim it in various ways, hoping that I would find the right solution and not end up with something nasty and ingrown.
And then yesterday it broke off.
Well. I guess that is one way to solve the problem...
This makes me a super legit ballerina now, right?

PS: it didn't break all the way off, just the end bit. It didn't hurt, and I taped it up for class tonight, which was fine. I certainly won't be wearing any open-toe shoes any time soon. Not that I do, anyway. Blech.

I Obviously Have An Opinion About Running

I bought running shoes. RUNNING shoes. UGH. No, no, before you ask I will not be running in them. Ever. Under any circumstances that don't involve being chased by a zombie.
Uck.
But, I keep reading about how you need really supportive shoes to correct for shin splints. And at this point, after the completely wretched week I have had, I will try anything.
But I hate them. There is no such thing as an attractive running shoe. Or a quick-to-put-on running shoe. Or a running shoe that doesn't make your feet look like they're the size of a tractor.
Sigh...

All of the shin splint information out there seems to assume that you have acquired them through running and attendant sports. Marathon... stuff. Whatever. Bleh. So, I have been reading a whole lot more about running than I ever wanted to. All the things I have learned! For instance: apparently people are in to running now. As a ... sport? Kind of thing? Not just jogging around the block in the morning for your cardio workout, but... actually running. For "fun".
Also, did you know that running skirts are a thing? An actual thing that actually exists? You can buy them at Target, even. Why, there are even people who run in tutus. For reals, guys. I just don't even know.

I know that heal bro

I didn't feel like going all the way to my doctor for the whole shin splints thing. After all, he'll just tell me what I already know (ice it, rest, no jumping in class, do stretches...etc) and I'd have to walk to the train to get there, anyway (which would only make it worse). So I just sent him an e-mail saying "hey, this thing is happening and unless you tell me otherwise I am just going to treat it at home". He wrote back to tell me "yeah, that sounds about right" and recommend more ice (I felt fine yesterday until I iced it, then I felt like I'd been stabbed in the shins! Ice sucks!), no jumping, no running (ha! If you see me running it's because I'm being chased by a mountain lion. I Do Not Run.), and to avoid "heals". By which I assume he meant "heels". Or else I am doing it wrong.

In other news: I was doing a pilates video today. Some AB CRUNCH SUPER BURN SIX PACK EXPLOSION thing. And as I was laying there on the floor, all crunched up in to a ball and flailing my arms around madly in the region of my butt the instructor on the video said "how BADLY do you want  those abs?" and all I could think was "oh, please. No. I don't want abs. You can have them. Go ahead. I will just go have myself a lie down."
This is for you, ballet. Don't say I never did anything for you.

Ballet Anxiety

Ballet makes you crazy. Case in point/s:

So now that my substitute acupuncturist has declared my arches horribly fallen and dreadful (thanks, lady) I have gone in to a slight panic about the entire thing. I sit in the bath scrubbing my toes and thinking to myself is that arch looking lower than it used to? Is that right one shallower than the left? WHAT IS GOING ON? And, like many an angsty teenage wannabe ballerina (side note: my spellchecker refuses to admit that "neurotypical" is a word, and yet "wannabe" appears to be in it's dictionary?) I've been looking for arch-improving exercises online. As you might expect the proverbial "they" say that pointing your feet a lot is really the best thing for it. That and, apparently, walking barefoot. I am of the no-shoes-in-the-house persuasion, myself, so that is not really a problem for me. I often don't wear shoes at all for a couple of days straight (which probably means I am not getting out as often as I should but WHATEVER). And ,walking barefoot on the beach is supposed to be especially good for you. While the beach sounds pretty good right about now (we're in the middle of a cold snap that is pretty horrific. I just don't want to leave bed all day. I actually *GASP* wore a sweater for about half of barre on Friday. Today I fished my super gigantic and ridiculous slippers out from under the bed. They are the kind dancers wear for warming up, though they were actually a Xmas gift from my father several years ago. My husband thinks they look like astronaut boots. Damn RIGHT I'm wearing my astronaut boots, dude! It is COLD in here!) my husband insists that a trip to Hawaii is pretty much out of the question right now, so I guess it's back to the old theraband, instead. In any case I refuse to get obsessed about it to the point of buying one of those silly foot-torture devices. 

In class the other day we were doing our port de corps en ronde (I am just going to assume that I spelled that correctly. I usually check but tonight: pbbt!) and the teacher was instructing us on proper technique. She said "make sure your weight is on both feet throughout the entire thing. Shifting your weight from foot to foot is cheating." and then she said something about how it's probably more fun the wrong way but doing it the right way will move your core around, or your body around your core. .. or something to that effect... which is better for your ... something or other... ballet technique. You get the idea. And she finished with "so if you are here because you are serious about improving your ballet technique then do it the right way, and if you're are just here for a fun way to stretch go ahead with however you're doing it"
And I thought Oh dear, she doesn't mean ME does she? Like no, wait, I am serious! Did you see my annoyed posts about pilates on Facebook and so you think I am just poodling around for fitness' sake? NO! I am serious! I only do pilates for ballet! I swear! I love ballet! I am in it to win it... okay maybe that one just sounds dumb but you know what I mean! How do I prove that I am serious? WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME, WOMAN?
But that is crazy talk. Like crazy people would say. Not normal, well-adjusted, sane people. That would be silly. Right? Right. Okay then.

2013 all up in da hizzouse

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope your 2013 is off to a running start. I don't know about you but I am totally over the holiday season and look forward to next week, when life can fall in to it's natural rhythm again. This weekend we are parting company with the junky old Ford we have been borrowing since I left town in October. While I am not sorry to no longer be driving a car I have nick-named the "tuna trolley" I will definitely miss the convenience of having two cars. Right about the time I have to start taking the train to ballet class on Tuesday (following having to drive back and forth all over heck and back on Monday in an attempt to take my husband to work and then go to see the acupuncturist again) I fear I shall be overcome with a swelling of nostalgia for that beat up old piece of junk tuna trolley. Sigh... I do not relish the thought of walking alone in the dark through the ghetto to get to class. But, it's ballet class and I will be darned if I'm going to miss it. I suppose I will just carry my elderly can of pepper spray (never mind, I can't find it) and a little flashlight and power through.
Now, I must adjourn and with any luck get some actual work done. Adieu, mes amis!

Pilates and You. Now on Home Video.

So, I am muddling my way back in to trim, but the fact remains that I need to work on my core strength because it will improve my balance. And I am crazy-interested in improving my balance. On a related but side note my teacher recently realized that I stand a little funny because I have an (not insignificant) curvature of the spine. I've known this since I was 16, at which point it required several trips to various doctors and x-rays and etc etc. The verdict was that if I had come in when I was 11 they would have put me in a brace or something, but at 16 it was too darn late. Which was totally okay with me. I haven't really experienced any serious problems with it. It means I sometimes have to fit my clothing very slightly differently from left to right, but it's usually not noticeable if I don't so mostly I just don't bother. Anyway, my teacher said she's going to work on making me "pretend" to stand straight, and that makes absolute sense. 
ANYWAY. Back to the subject at hand!
The best thing I've found so far for working your core/abs is pilates. I can't say it's a heck of a good time, but I suppose it's better than just doing crunches or sit ups. Boring exercises don't get done, you know? In the past (that is one time in the past. Yeah, yeah, so sue me) when I got interested in trying out some pilates, I just fired up netflix and ta-da, hundreds of videos to choose from. But, this time I discovered that OH NO! Netflix has discontinued ALL of it's fitness videos that were available to watch instantly. Aw man. What are the rest of the unemployed/self employed/stay at home moms/etc going to do now? We are all going to get fat, is what we're going to do.
I eventually decided to gird my proverbial loins and check out the stuff available on YouTube. I did this one, which has left me aching noticeably for the past few days, even though there were moments when I just threw my hands up and said "forget it, lady!". It's dang hard to do the stuff while watching the screen, even with my laptop on the floor with me, but I suppose it has to be done. I thought the instructor was okay on this series, not as good at explanations as some of the sleek crunch and burn instructors, but also a bit less plastic. I love her manner of speaking ("Up you come!" and "butt" instead of ""bum" or "rear" really won me). Next time I am planning on trying out this one, which might be a bit less confusing, but we'll see.

I'm doing this for you, ballet. I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.

Of course, like most people, I never seem to follow through with my big plans for at-home work outs.  This is why you have to go to classes or a gym or something. So you feel guilty if you don't want to bother with it. We'll see how long I hold out before "forgetting" to hit the pad once a week. I'm giving myself three weeks. Hey, at least I have realistic expectations!

Taking the Plunge

A few years ago, back when they discovered that the problem in my hands wasn't carpal tunnel syndrome, they sent me back and forth to half a dozen specialists in an attempt to suss out the culprit. None of them had any real idea what was wrong but one doctor, a hand specialist (the one who finally did the test that determined a predisposition for rheumatic conditions) suggested that I should try acupuncture for the pain. He put through a referral to the acupuncture department for me, but I never followed through with it because A) It looked like we were going to get a real diagnoses soon, B) it's all the freakin' way in another city, and taking the bus to get there (we only have one car) for orientation would be a TWO HOUR trip through unfamiliar territory, and then require a half mile walk. And C) WHATEVER DUDES. I have a pretty low opinion of the pseudo-scientific "chi energy" rigamarole, and don't really want to listen to it.
But, things have changed in the last few years. For one, I hurt a lot more. And also, I don't appear to be getting any actual medical treatment, here. I'm just about at my wit's end, and at this point I would do darn near anything if there was any actual chance it would help me feel better, especially when I'm dancing. So, I looked in to it. There are real honest-and-for-true clinical studies that support the use of acupuncture, though of course no one actually knows why it works. They have theories ranging from triggering immune responses to counter-irritation to just plain old positive thinking. But... you know? At this point? *sigh* I don't even care WHY it works, just so long as it does, you know? And everyone I've talked to that has first-hand experience with it has been 100% sure it did something good for them. Of course, these are also the people who claim that it's painless and that you'll blissfully frolic through the experience with no blood loss. I have a friend who used to be a dogsbody at an acupuncture clinic, and among her grosser chores was cleaning up the large quantities of blood left behind after a session. UCKA. Fellow rheumy and blogger extraordinaire Jenny Lawson's book Let's Pretend This Never Happened contains her own account of acupuncture treatment. She lays it on the line and tells it very much like it is, pain and blood and all. But at this point unless they want to ram the damn pins in to my EYES they are totally welcome to give it a shot. So I'm signed up to take Kaiser's acupuncture orientation class at the end of November, and then we'll see how it shakes out.
Honestly, I am not amazingly happy with the idea because I don't like getting poked with needles, much. And I STILL don't want to listen to anyone regale me with wisdom about my chi. For crying out loud, people, you can't just make up something when you don't understand how it works!
I asked my (deep skeptic of a) husband what he thought about me trying it out and he has been supportive. Not that he's the sort of jerky husband who isn't supportive of most of my decisions or anything (he even lets me smudge the house, so long as he isn't there while I'm burning the sage), but I do so like to not make him think that I'm a crazy person on a regular basis.

the toes know... s?

My first ballet-related toe injury, my ring toenail (is there a ring finger equivalent on your foot?) tore up my middle toe during class tonight. And thus a lesson was learned about cutting your nails before class.
At least it was an honest ballet injury. A badge of honor if you will. At least I can clutch my proverbial fist dramatically to my bosom while sighing about sacrificing myself for my art. Which is more than I can say about my badly bruised and formerly bleeding big toenail on the same foot. 'Oh no. That one was accomplished via the most physically graceful moment of my life.
I... stubbed it. On the floor. While I was sitting down.

Sigh...

Proceed only if you want to see the gruesome evidence (and you promise not to judge how callusy my toes are) I'm also not entirely sure if my baby toenail is bruised or what the heck is going on there. Edited to add: after seeing this entry pop up in the blog aggregate site I use, I noticed that it doesn't protect the innocent from the picture of my yucky toes. So I added a photo of my cat's tummy in an attempt to rectify the situation.

Accepted Wisdom

So I have read a couple of articles lately that say you should not stretch before a workout. One even included this amazing and colorful quote from none other than fitness guru Jack LaLanne : "Warming up is the biggest bunch of horseshit I've ever heard in my life. Fifteen minutes to warm up! Does a lion warm up when he's hungry? 'Uh-oh, here comes an antelope. Better warm up.' No! He just goes out and eats the sucker."
But as any dancer can tell you, stretching is important! Right?
Well, maybe yes, maybe no. My teacher advocates stretching (at least the calves and thighs if nothing else) after class/running/etc. And stretching is important for overall flexibility and extensions, yes?
Well, it turns out you should really only be stretching after you work out, rather than before, and not just plain cold, which is what I usually do on days when I have no class. But... hmm. I can't really jog or even walk much these days. I labor along with a very short and relatively mild bike ride most Friday mornings, but we are talking a few miles at most (as opposed to the 20+ I used to be able to do). And my hip joints pop so very uncomfortably and disconcertingly every time they hit a développé or grand battemant. So maybe I will just keep up with the hip stretches before class and then only do the other stuff afterward?
Ugh. So confusing.

The Underpants Conundrum

So, I have special underpants that I save just for ballet. I know, I know, it sounds stupid. And, if you want to be serious about it, like professionals and students who are headed for ballet stardom, then you don't wear any panties at all.
But... uh...
I don't know. I just wasn't born to be a freeballer (or whatever the female equivalent would be. I can't think of anything that isn't SUPER RUDE). My mom was a supporter of the underpantless cause, but we were still trundled in to them as kids. And then a terrible thing happened when I was about 3 or 4. I was put in rhumba panties (you know, with the ruffles on the butt). And it was all over. I freakin' LOVED my rhumba panties. I was especially fond of a bright red pair. I wanted to wear those things constantly. Oh man. I've been an underpants fan ever since. I love fun underpants! So I never really go au naturel, or Scots proper if you prefer. And I am just not comfortable with clothes on without the panty barrier.
I could claim it was my professional wisdom speaking (underpants are a pretty important part of keeping your clothes clean and long-lasting. A bit of vajay goes a long way, as they say. Poetry unintentional. But run with it!) but to be honest I just feel a little squicky without my undies (you know. Stuff happens down there).
So anyhoo, I have these perfect underoos for dance class. They aren't specially made dance underpants (yes, they make those) or anything, they are just super sleek and snug and made with flatlocked elastic that is micro thin. So, no panty lines. They are awesome for skinny jeans and leggings, too. Cuz there ain't NO WAY I am wearing a thong. Okay, seriously? I hate to get sidetracked and all, but I have to rant a little about thongs. They are evil and wrong for anything other than personal sexy times. I used to work in a maternity store (it was HORRIBLE) and our hottest sellers were packs of maternity thongs. REALLY? Come on ladies. Be serious, now. What the what? Sheesh. Okay. I am done being sidetracked now.
The whole point was that I got these silly fabulous underpants at Costco about a year ago (which means they don't have them anymore, of course. That is how Costco rolls) and so I have to be super careful to sort them out of my laundry and pack them up with my leotards and tights so that I don't get caught half an hour before class running around the house like a crazy chicken shrieking "WHERE ARE MY UNDERWEAR?? YOU HAVE THEM DON'T YOU? I KNOW YOU DO! GIVE THEM BACK!"
Especially because I'm the only one home at the time...

Some Of You Will Think This Post Is Creepy

Okay. So when I decided that I needed to take ballet lessons or I would die inside I had to cut a certain amount of chaff from my budget. Especially because last year I had a real job, and now I quotey-quote "work from home" which is sort of like saying "I am unemployed" only I have to feel guilty about sleeping in. Anyways. That $500 I spent on shoes last year was not going to be repeated this year (for the record, though, I got some REALLY AWESOME shoes last year) and the ridiculously expensive dolls were just going to have to wait.
Okay, okay, I admit it. There. Are you happy now? I admit it freely. I am a dolly addict. I don't mean creepy porcelain dolls or collector barbies or anything else that accrues any sort of value over the years. I mean gorgeous and stupidly expensive resin ball jointed dolls from Asia. If you aren't already familiar with them, you need to go look at this site. You will have a heart attack. Especially when you look at the prices and realize that those $600 dolls are BASE prices. Hair, eyes, and wardrobe sold separately. *Siiiiiiiiiigh* (It's not as silly as it sounds, I actually earn a pretty significant percentage of my living by making and selling teeny tiny 1/6 scale corsets and underwear. No, I am not joking.)
Anyway, like I said, ballet is expensive. So, sorry Too and Bee-A, but you will have to wait.
And just as I had finally made this decision and was feeling very secure about it?
I discovered these:

Do you hear that sound? It's the sound of my soul crying.

That's right, kids. Those are specially made pointed feet. For those ridiculously expensive dollies. So that they can wear Intensely Adorable pointe shoes. Just go and look at this picture and tell me that they aren't awesome.

Well, never mind, because I won't believe you anyway. Ballet. Shoes. Dolls. Spending money I don't have. My buttons. Consider them pushed.