on toning, red socks, and lifts…random mid-week ramblings

When I was hugging my hubby today, he said that he can tell I’m toning up a little and he likes it. Oh yeah.  It’s the barre you know. Those deep, long stretches towards the barre, away from the barre, and to the floor.

Forgetful. I have random things swirling around in my head, so I’m emptying my thoughts here of all the things that I forgot to put in my other rehearsal and class posts.

“I thought we’ve done this on Saturdays,” Miss Beautiful Ballet Teacher said to me when I was hesitant to start moving across the floor… Oh yes, I’ve seen this particular movement done several times in the last 3/4 of a year. But me actually do it…never. I know that it is easy peasy. But for some reason, my feet and legs, not to mention my arms, have been unable to transfer all this easy peasyness into action.  My little miss even does it beautifully in her beginner class. Uncoordinated in some movements, I am.

I discovered another enjoyable ballet blog today, Dancing over the Hill  linked off another one that I’ve been reading, Back to the Barre. So I’m adding both to my sidebar. (Just let me know if you don’t want me to do this.)

During class, as the minutes tick by, and the barre combinations get increasingly quicker and more complex as we warm up, I always get to the point when I think, I just need to go to class with the little girls where things aren’t so advanced, but I carry on. This week, Miss BBT made it a point to explain that when we plie, releve on both feet 4 times, then coupe and releve on just one foot, we always start with the right foot. She repeated this instruction a couple times, emphasizing start with your right foot. Oh good. I was ready. I was going to start on my right. And I did.  I lifted my right foot and stood strong on my left foot. WRONG WRONG WRONG. Apparently, when you start with your right foot, that means to stand on your right foot, not lift it. And as I am writing about this, even now, I am wondering if I am remembering it wrong.  Oh well, another possible light bulb moment for me. Miss BBT was probably thinking, I said 3 times to start with the right foot. What is she doing? Doesn’t she ever listen? Oh, yes, Miss Beautiful Ballet Teacher, I am always listening! Always. I just don’t always understand.

I told you this was random.

One of the ladies in class is eccentric in her dress. You never know what she is going to show up wearing. I love it! I’d love to call her by her real nickname, but I’m not using real names on this blog. Once she came to rehearsal straight from work, so she just slipped a pair of leggings under her wool dress. She has long hair, and lots of it! Sometimes, it’s down, and sometimes, she has it pulled up in a loose bun with hair falling out all around–messy but pretty. And once, my favorite–her hair was tightly rolled up into leopard print little ties all over head.   She often wears shorts over tights with a sheer skirt over it, and a t-shirt over leotard that usually disappears or gets tied up half-way up her torso once we’ve warmed up a bit. And all these items of clothing–a variety of colors and patterns 🙂 Finally, the best ensemble of all, and I say this with great fondness and affection: white ballet shoes, red socks, pink leg warmers, purple shorts. Just don’t let flower number seven into our studio; she would be appalled at the way all the adults in our class dress.

Still rambling here.

And last but not least, in fact, this could maybe even be most as in filed under most ridiculous or most entertaining or most stupid question.  Except there are no stupid questions, right?   On with it now….So my husband asked me a few weeks ago if I was going to be doing any lifts with Mr. (insert name of your choice of a studly danseur.) This question is so absurd that I didn’t know how to react or answer. In fact, I didn’t react at all. I easily kept a straight face with no emotion. I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or serious. If he were kidding, well, then maybe I could laugh it off. But if his question was serious, then I could only guess that it comes from a lack of dance knowledge. Dancing with a partner is not even a blip on my radar. Because I am not strong enough. Not skilled enough. I could go on and on and on. I would need to be able to jump and leap all by myself before expecting someone else to catch me in the air….Now I realize Mr. (again insert danseur name of your choice) could probably bench press the same amount of weight that is the number on the scale when I step on it, however, I’m not exactly in the same weight class as the other ladies that he’s currently hoisting around. Not even close. So, my dear lover, I will not be doing any lifts. Ever. But I should never say never. So I’ll just say not for a very long time, anyway.  Oh, and my husband’s question: he was not kidding; he was serious.

Even though I won’t be doing any fancy schmancy graceful pas de deux, I would love to dance with my husband–maybe a waltz! Since he can’t lead, and I can’t follow, that won’t happen anytime soon. The leading and following: I’m referring to just dance, you know. We would need to take a class and work together. If we ever did actually do that, hopefully, it would go better than the last class we took.

6 thoughts on “on toning, red socks, and lifts…random mid-week ramblings

  1. Laughing HARD at Todd’s question.

    I think you should ask Ms. Beautiful Ballet Teacher if dancing with Mr. Strong Stud is a possibility for you at the performance.

    Let me know how it goes.;)

    • You’ve thrown me into a horrible coughing fit because I’m laughing so hard. If I choke, it’s all your fault! Why don’t you ask her for me. Please, pretty please! Then YOU can tell ME how it goes.

    • Now I’m snorting. Miss Beautiful Ballet Teacher is so approachable. You can ask her anything! Not awkward at all. Hey, you used to dance. The three of us can do a trois!

  2. I am so-o-o-o enjoying your discriptive stories and names! Also, I’m thinking maybe Mr. loving husband wants to be the only man in your life who lifts you up.

  3. Pingback: first class…post performance | ballet, you say?

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