The Closest I Get to Dancing on Vacation

A lot of people go on a vacation or other road trips and consider it a perfect time to try out the local dance studio class offerings. I ... do not. This is as close as I get to dancing on vacation:

It's a frappé. The kind that doesn't involve kicking yourself

repeatedly in the ankle and getting called out for your crap timing.

Also:

Drawing in the wet sand with rond de jambes.

While carrying a bucket and froggy umbrella.

Shut up.

Rond de jambe à terre

in Fort Bragg, CA

Halcyon days of yore, balletversary!

This week is my three year balletversary! And my one year pointeversary (even though I have spent so much time out with injuries that it's more like month 9 or 10)! In celebration I executed my first real, full, honest-to-god pirouette en pointe last night! In truth, I am pretty sure I did it backwards. But, we were ALL doing them backwards (it's easier because the momentum of pushing off your working leg automatically pulls you around toward your center) so I am not going to complain too much. 
I am now going to be out of class for a couple of weeks while I take a well-earned vacation with my hubby and then have (not earned at all!) oral surgery about which I have been having panic attacks (two hours awake with people in my mouth! ARGH!) so they prescribed me an anti-anxiety drug called (I am not kidding) "Halcion". Ah ha ha. I see what you did there.

Taking a Break Pays Off

After the excitement of the recital our teacher (who basically does everything involving the recital) took a much-deserved two week vacation. I only went to class once during the entire time. I know, I know. But really, there were things, and life, and... just stuff. Stuff was happening. My very best friend ended up in the hospital. I had to work until 8 pm for several days in a row, and then not get home until 11 on a couple more.
And I just didn't want to.
Sometimes it's okay to not want to.
So, this Tuesday was my first day back in a while. Annnnnnd... I got complimented on my improved articulation through tendu in to battement, degage, etc. And not a single posture correction. Thursday was my first pointe class in nearly a month. That also went swimmingly, I progressed significantly in pirouette prep. and finally nailed down the shape my foot is supposed to be achieving at the barre.
What is my secret? What was my daily regimen? Uh... nothing. I didn't stretch, practice, or even bother to think too much about ballet in the time I was away. I read a book that had some dancing in it, does that count? 
Well, then.
Maybe a break was what I needed.

On a Scale of 1 to 10...

So nothing much is happening in my ballet world this week because A) I am on vacation celebrating my sixth wedding anniversary and B) I totally jacked up my wrist by slipping on the beach and planting my self face-first on to a granite boulder. In related news: "on an anemone" is a terrible tongue twister! Especially when you have to say it like fifty times in a row while sitting in the ER of an unfamiliar hospital. Try it! "I was trying not to step onananemone!" AWFUL!
I'm fine, it's been X-rayed and they think it's not broken, just sprained all to heck. I just have to keep it in my night-time brace 24/7 for a while. Anyhow, I don't feel like driving and I hurt and I am tired and I want to sit around and snuggle tonight. So. There. By next week I will be desperate to get back to the studio, and it will be great. Right now, though, I could probably use a bit of a break. Har har. I DIDN'T MEAN THAT LITERALLY, UNIVERSE!
Actually, it's darn-near miraculous that I didn't screw myself up any worse than I did. I could have broken an ankle so easily. As it was I got a couple little dings and scrapes, but I didn't even break my glasses. Thank heavens. Because (since starting ballet) breaking an ankle has become nearly as terrifying to me as breaking a wrist, which would keep me from working.
What I actually came here to write about was the horrible "how bad is your pain on a scale of 1 to 10" question that medical professionals always ask. It means NOTHING. It is totally arbitrary. My pain tolerance and your pain tolerance are not the same. My medical history and attendant experience with pain is a total unknown to them. Maybe you think something is a 3 and I think it's a 7. Or vice versa. I've had kidney stones, an IUD, and optical migraines. I've never given birth, broken a bone larger than my toes (though I have done that twice), or been hit by a car. What are you even asking me to tell you? If I am in terrible agony? Because couldn't you just say "are you in terrible agony?"
I said "background pain is about a 3-4, but when I touch or jar it it's maybe an 8?" so they kept wanting to give me painkillers. For a background pain of about 3? Really? I have a chronic pain condition. I have a background pain a hell of a lot worse than that constantly. Chill out. My 8 is when I start to cry. I don't think I have found my 10 yet. I'm sort of keeping it in reserve for some terrible thing that may happen to me someday. Maybe I'll be burned at the stake. You never know!