Tonight there were six of us.
I was still the only one in Nike shorts and footless tights.
Tonight we did a lot of barre work again, only this time with turns, jumps and - drum roll! - pirouettes.
We had just finished a series of jumping turns at the barre - a warm up I guess - when the instructor had us stop, set and then pirouette.
Oohhh yeah, I thought. It's my time to shine. So what if I need correction on everything else.
So I jumped, turned, swayed and then set up for the most fantastic pirouette Ballet Theatre Midwest has ever seen. Aaaand voila!
Ok, so maybe it wasn't the best. But it was still pretty damn good. But right after the pirouette we were told to extend our right leg and lunge... into the splits.
The WHAT?!
Oh yes, dancers. The splits. The other girls immediately went to the floor - whoosh! - right into the splits. Mine was more of an ERRRRRTTT, like a car skidding to a halt. Because that's what my legs did about halfway down.
YEE.OUCH.
The whole thing totally ruined my pirouette high.
It was about that time I realized why I quit ballet all those years ago: I hate it.
Turns out that me at age 13 isn't all that different from me now. Ballet is controlled, disciplined, restrictive. Aka, no fun. I want to get loose on the dance floor, you know what I'm sayin'? And you can't very well break it down in ballet.
So another hobby bites the dust. Sorry ballet, it's over.
2 comments:
Ah well, you tried. Speaking of getting loose in the dance floor. I had a dream last night you and I went to a bar to see Lori in concert and we were totally shaking it to her band. Good times. At least I have you in my dreams *sigh*
Best. Dream. Ever.
I'll have to tell Lori she's a rock star, and we're her groupies. YES.
Post a Comment