Ballet Squid Chronicles: Who Hid The Squid?
Today started off with a bang — I miscalculated and made it out of the house with 20 minutes to make the “ballet bus,” so I hammered my poor legs off for 3.66 miles at 16.6 MPH average (which is more impressive when you consider that, for the first couple of miles, there are So. Many. Stop. Signs, which really kills your overall speed). I made it to the bus stop in 13 minutes, which is good, because the bus came early (which is unheard-of for the #29, especially on a Saturday!).
I did just Ballet Essentials because afterwards J. and I went for brunch and coffee.
Class went brilliantly — with Denis away at That Thing In The Desert…
|We interrupt your regularly-scheduled Squid Pictures to bring you this image
of Camp Friendzied Serenity going up in Black Rock Desert*.
…we numbered only four students, so everyone got a lot of individual attention. I was very happy that most of the corrections I received were related to refinement and expression — not so much just re-learning how to do stuff as taking it to the next level: really using the brushing-the-floor bit in grandbattement; making nice lines when doing sauté arabesque; turning cleanly. I don’t get to not “do the arms” anymore, either :D
I was not all that squidly today. Dare I say that, at times, my arms were even pretty? Not all the time, of course. There was a little bit of Swan Arms if by Swan Arms you mean Angry Swan In A Thunderstorm Arms.
At least it wasn’t all Domo Arigato Mr. Robodagio? (“Domo, domo. Domo, domo**.“) There was a little bit of, “Wow, those actually look like ballet arms!” arms.
And, of course, the usual leapy goodness, including a couple of good efforts to get some actual height. Sauté arabesque looks more impressive if your supporting leg is more than one inch off the floor, and since tossing the working leg ceiling-ward isn’t too hard, I decided to concentrate on using my plié more effectively. I also got to concentrate on making prettier lines. When your instructor starts correcting you to make your dancing prettier, you feel like you’re getting somewhere! ^-^
I found myself making things happen sometimes during class today, but there were lovely moments of letting things happen as well.
I still sweated balls the whole time because it was hawt in studio 5 (FWIW, it’s just hot in Louisville in general right now, and so humid you might as well bring your scuba gear if you’re leaving the house).
After class, brunch, coffee, and walkies, I rode my bike another 17.4 miles or so (I decided to explore for a new route, and not-so-quickly discovered that there are a lot of roads that don’t connect because there’s an interstate in the way). The first 9 miles I averaged about 13 MPH (including lots of slowing and stopping and roving around in curvaceous neighborhood streets); after that, I backed off the gas and tootled home at 11 MPH moving average.
So, basically, today I used my legs a lot, and since J. and some friends and I are going dancing tonight, it would appear that I’m going to use them some more. I understand that if you use them enough they will fall off and then you grow new (and, one hopes, better) legs?
Or maybe I’m thinking of what happens if you’re skink and someone grabs your tail.
Speaking of which, our neighborhood is rife with adorable skinks right now, and it makes me super happy.
Last Monday, one was hanging out under our recycling bin before I brought the bin in from the curb. The poor skink experienced a moment of great panic and confusion when suddenly its shelter rolled away and then wove around drunkenly in an effort to avoid its equally-erratic evasive maneuvers.
So. Um. I guess that’s it? I am going to go eat moar food, because feta and hummus and olives, oh my!
*After five years, our camp has evolved into an official Theme Camp with early admission for setup and everything. This is exciting.
**Denis is a huge Styx fan. I have grown rather fond of them as well over the course of our relationship.