On Ballet! — Saturday Class Notes

First note: if you travel to class with your partner, always bring your partner’s dance belt (or shoes), even when he claims he isn’t going to dance. Denis thought he didn’t want to dance today but I had all of his stuff except for his dance belt, and when we got to LBS, he decided that maybe he might be able to dance after all.

I didn’t want to seem pushy, so I had left his dance belt at home (even though all of his other stuff was already packed in our mutual dance bag). On the other hand, he did get an opportunity to pick up a few pair of jeans to replace those recently lost to attrition. Since he wears jeans to work, an adequate supply makes a huge difference.

Anyway, Denis will be back in class with me on Monday (I already promised our teacher he would ^-^).

So today I felt like my arms were much better, probably because I have spent the past four days thinking about them and working on trying to make them move gracefully and attempting to remember which arm positions go with which foot positions.

For some reason, my core felt kind of wiggly today. It did funny things to my sous-sus, which is a wee bit half-baked anyway because “huge cycling quads + still kinda fat for a dancer = fugly sous-sus.”

Seriously, I thought cycling provided reason enough to trim down, but I’m lean enough that I’m not in my own way on the bike. In the ballet studio, my thigh chubs are still, you know, kind of intrusive.

Beyond that, though, barre went fairly well, except for the bit where I got behind the count during degages and made this rather hilarious attempt to catch up. SOME DAY I WILL LEARN TO COUNT. Thouh, by that time, I will most likely be back in a place where I’m comfortable enough with what I’m doing that I sort of auto-count.

Oh, and the part where for some reason my upper body decided to do first arabesque left while my lower body did first arabesque right. Evidently, the small brain that is supposed to relay information from my head area to the end of my tail wasn’t — oh, wait, I am not actually a stegosaurus, even if I dance like once sometimes.

I enjoyed a little chasse-saute exercise we did across the floor, and felt like I kind of almost actually looked like a dancer finally, instead of a big sack of awkward in a dance belt and expensive slippers (or a dancing stegosaurus).

On the other hand, my jetes were terrible. I felt like a baby deer trying to learn how to lope along on big ol’ gangly limbs. I sounded like an elephant (or maybe a stegosaurus). At least I didn’t fall on my face, though.

This is particularly frustrating in light of the fact that I used to love all flavors of jete, especially tour jete, and right now I can’t seem to get my arms and legs to work together in a plain ol’ vanilla chassez-chassez-brushthroughleap combo.

This is how you should NOT jete.

It was at least this bad. Probably worse.

So I shall spend this week firming up my chaines turns and remembering how to jete (I think I’ve sorted myself now; on the way home from class, I realized I was doing some kind of chasse-gallope-jete crap). (Edit: I decided to mark my jetes this afternoon in order to get my arms coordinated with my legs. It seems to have helped, and my arms got all dancer-y, which was kind of exciting in its own way — they were like, “Oh, you mean we’re doing this! We remember this!”. I will have to open up and try jetes for reals downstairs in a bit. We totally do not have a jete-way in our upstairs right now.)

Got a few useful corrections, which was cool. I like our ballet teacher.

In other news, next Saturday I definitely need to eat a better breakfast (Today’s breakfast? ONE LITTLE APPLE. Because in the morning, I can be kind of dumb.) and pack a lunch. I definitely found myself in Food Crisis Mode during the epic shopping trip that followed class this morning. I had to tell myself out loud and repeatedly that I did not need an entire 1-pound bag of M&Ms. I did make it home and we had leftover spaghetti for lunch, so that worked out okay.

That’s it for now. Keep the leather side down.

About asher

Me in a nutshell: Standard uptight ballet boy. Trapeze junkie. Half-baked choreographer. Budding researcher. Transit cyclist. Terrible homemaker. Neuro-atypical. Fabulous. Married to a very patient man. Bachelor of Science in Psychology (2015). Proto-foodie, but lazy about it. Cat owner ... or, should I say, cat own-ee? ... dog lover. Equestrian.

Posted on 2014/03/22, in balllet, weight. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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