Tribal Revolution 2011: A Solo Experience: As I Am

My previous note titled Tribal Revolution 2011: Another Reason to Join the Circus is about the event in general.

This note is about me. 

While completing the Hipnotic Tribal Revolution application, I felt an urge to apply to solo. My stomach fluttered and immediately my internal critics piped up: Who do you think you are? 

But the urge was stronger, so I pushed them aside and completed my application.

As I Am by Alicia Keys is my favorite song. For those that don't know it, it's an intricate and intense piano piece with a lot of emotion. It's also only 1 minute and 54 seconds long, which is another reason why I love it so much. Some of the best things about life aren't long drawn out experiences - they are very specific moments.

I probably listened to this song more 500 times. I built, destroyed, deconstructed, reconstructed, revamped, revised and redesigned this short piece almost as often as I listened to it.

I had to override the belly dancer in me that wanted to articulate every little piece of the music. I had to acknowledge the novice in me that didn't know if I should use the whole stage or just own my little bit of space. I had to look at my strengths, my weaknesses, shortcomings, shortgoings (yes, I just made that up), and create something that I thought looked and felt like me. 

A month before the event, I almost backed out. I didn't like what I had. I kept falling on the floor while trying to get up to three pirouette turns to put in the piece. My knee was having issues and I couldn't do the turkish drop like I planned. I felt like those were the only two things that I wanted to keep and the rest of the choreography was a disaster. My internal critics were vicious to the tune of: I told you so....

But I wouldn't give up - because if I've learned nothing from taking ballet - it's ok to be afraid, but it shouldn't stop me from living my life. 

When I got the hafla line up, I was excited - then I realized I was in set 3. Each set was 10 performers long and I was in the last set - and number 9 to ice the cake. It was a blessing and a curse. My internal critics would eat me alive for more than 3 hours before I could perform, but maybe the audience would be minimal so my nerves wouldn't be so bad. 

The show started around 8:15pm. With that many performers ahead of me, I focused on my student troupe performing in the first set, number 7. It was a collective choreography that I crafted and let them put in their own little choreography bits as well. Like a nervous hen, I watched them. They smiled, sassed and gave attitude to the crowd - just as planned. I loved it. 

It felt like it was the longest hafla in the history of long haflas. I was convinced by my turn - the audience would be maya'ed, taxseemed, shoulder shimmied, body waved and chest popped into oblivion and it won't matter what I did because no one would be there to watch it and the people left would be so drunk they won't care if I danced in nothing but tassels.

At around 11:40pm, I was up. I walked into the room to find it still full. My stomach fluttered. My palms got sweaty. I took a deep breath and made my way through the audience as my introduction was made (which was short and funny because I couldn't think of anything). My heart beat as fast a hummingbird wings and I was almost convinced at the opening note, I would faint instead of perform.

And something amazing happened. My mind was silent, my breathing was even, my heartbeat returned to normal and when the first note came out of the speaker, I was present.  I didn't slip into oblivion, zone out or go into automatic.

I didn't perform the choreography flawlessly (because it wouldn't be me if it was perfect) but for 1 minute and 54 seconds I pushed all of myself into every inch of that music and every moment of the song. I flung off a piece of jewelry and spun so fast an earring fell off, but I was there for every moment of it - the pirouettes (two), the turkish drop, every look, every hip shimmy, every arm gesture.

And when the last note was fading into obscurity, I took my bow, grabbed my missing pieces and RAN back to the empty dressing room. And as I took several deep breaths while still shaking from the excess adrenaline, the door opened and Therese from Daughters of the Dance ran at me with open arms and tears in her eyes.

And I thought "I did good." 

I quietly received hugs from Nancy, Dawn, Amanda, Neta, Amirah, Leize, Greta, Danielle, Linda and few more until the show ended and then I was told in various terms by almost everyone of them something that sounded a lot like:  If I ever perform a solo that short again they would break my ankles. 

And I thought "Again?"

I think Audrey of Blue Lotus Tribe had one of the best compliments. She said, "You reminded me of why I love you so much." 

Thank you all for your support. 

Tribal Revolution 2011: Another Reason to Join the Circus

Unlike real carnie folks, we do have most of our teeth. But I think that's about where all the differences end....

We have our own language - taxseem(or however we decide to spell), maya (which is NOT a person), snake arms, figure 8s, sidewinders and body waves. 

We have our own style - dreads (real and fake), tattoos (mostly real), melodias, fauxlodias, yogirts, yogirts lite (not food or LOW FAT), hip scarves, hip skirts, feathers, flowers and funky little vests. And we have our own take on 'bling' -the more, the bigger, the chunkier, the clunkier, the older - THE BETTER! Thank you Calico Gardens, Five and Diamond, Ashner by Elizabeth, Geisha Moth, Zoh'ra, Tribal Virgo, Akashawear, Red Camel and all the other vendors.  

We have our own music and musicians - IL Troubadore, The Mezmer Society, Jeremy Soto, Beats Antique, Brazz Menazeri and on and on and on. We dance to Greek, Turkish, Gypsy, Romani, World, Alternative, Techno, sometimes we dance to Jazz, the Blues, Hip Hop, R&B - and if we are at an after party where we can't control the music - Country. 

We converge on a small hotel in the middle of somewhere with our friends, family, and belly dance superstars and set up tribal belly dance camp for 4 days. We pack up ridiculous amounts of jewelry, practice wear, performance wear, hair bling, floral arrangements, flip flops and tricked out boots.

 We flood into the registration area, getting envelopes, folders, bags, schedules and updates. We slowly meander through each vending area while meeting up with our friends from different cities as far as Fort Worth, Texas and San Francisco California. We catch up on 'real' life and 'belly dance' life - slightly envious of those where 'real and belly' are the same.

Months earlier we signed up for lessons with some of the best in our business - Amel Tatsout, Rachel Brice, Heather Stants, Tempest, Onca, Jeremy Soto, Shay Moore, etc - to learn their secrets and lessons - because for the life of us -we are inspired and aspire to be as breathtaking or show stopping or innovative or just as good as they are. We file into their classes with yoga mats, notebooks, pens, water jugs, melodias, hip wear, and tank tops from all our previous events (Midwest Tribal Mafia represented almost every day!). And as we learn our teachers version and vision of the hip drop, shimmy, chest slide, lift, rotate, and pop in some new variation - we remember again and again why we LOVE this dance, why we love this environment, why we come to this event. 

And then the performances start. Friday night hafla night is for the non-teaching performers. Anyone with two legs (or one leg and a lot of ambition) can apply to be in the hafla. My student troupe, Legacy, performed. I was nervous for them, but they performed like champions. Local troupes that I knew and never knew rocked it. I performed my solo at 11:42pm - more on that later. And then of course, we partied until the hotel put us out.

Saturday night Gala show is for the teachers and non-teaching special guests. And then our superstars reminded us again of why we do this. Thank you again Amel, Heather, Rachel, Urban Gypsy, Eliza, Kelly, Taramind, Elizabeth (Ashner), Blue Lotus Tribe, Mezmer Society, IL Troubadore, Amirah, Tempest and more. 

Hipnotic was invited because we have supported this event from its infancy. And in honor of our hosts, we concocted this mash up of music and choreography from the previous years. We titled the song: When I lose my buttons, it's a wicked lil quest - which included Santa Maria, When I Grow Up, Buttons, Lose Yourself, Wikked Lil Girls, and Endless Quest. It was quite the collage.

We also debuted our newest invention with fellow long time supporters, Rakhshanda - named Rahknotic :) - we merged, blended, and fashioned a choreography piece complimenting each troupe. It was fantastic.  And when it was over, of course, a lot of us partied until almost 4 or 5am into Sunday. Knowing this is the last time until the next event that we can get together like this. So we drank and danced and danced and drank - we laughed, told dirty jokes, silly stories, learned circle folk dances and stepped on each others toes. 

Sunday came too soon. We packed away our fake dreads, half lettuce size roses with glitter and feathers, fake eyelashes, body glitter, giant necklaces, hip wear, cup size earrings, plate sized rings and tricked out boots. We rolled into our last few classes freshly showered, glassy eyed, wearing old eye make up and venti sized coffee mugs like the newest accessories. We get in our last minute purchases, hug and kiss our good byes, praise our teachers again and again, wave our promises of messaging, emailing and keeping in touch. We are exhausted - and so are our checkbooks. We check out of our rooms, pile into our cars and head back to our respective lives....and we wait for news of the next circus event. 

And this is why I want to join the circus - and why I will be teaching at the original Circus - Tribal Fest in 2012.

Thank you, Blue Lotus Tribe  - I appreciate you. 

Dear Bitchy

Originally posted June 17thI was suppose to go to Jazz class before ballet yesterday, but somehow I managed to loan my brother my car right before I needed to be there - and opps, look at that, Jazz has already started. So I get there in time to watch the end of Jazz class and get told once more how I need to get my collective ASS to that class. I shrug, smile and nod - please reference my motto: My ego can only handle sucking at ONE THING at a time - right now - it's ballet! (i.e. sucking at something I really really want to be good at - I suck at other stuff too, but I don't spend that much time, money or energy in getting those things right).

After having to put Mr. Ego out of our ballet fundamentals class (AGAIN),  we line up at the barre and listen to Miss M get the plies going. As I watch, I survey Bitchy (the name of my left knee) and he wasn't achy, touchy, feely or generally pissing me off or making me feel like a decreipt old woman. (Yes, Bitchy is a He - I typically don't have these problems with women, so it MUST be MALE!)

There are 6 of us in class, five women and one man. He is lined up behind me which makes me extremely uncomfortable because I didn't do a 'holy' check. I'm also suddenly very self-conscious because I'm still the largest woman in class - and now I have someone behind me when we do our port de bra - yes, I may be slightly ass-phobic (i.e. I don't want someone looking at my 'full moon' when I'm bending over in possibly HOLEY pants - even if I'm wearing black panties too).

As we roll through our plie and tendu combinations, I'm feeling fairly confident in my ballet vocabulary and overall aptitude. I'm not completely effing this UP! I'm getting it. I guess the cherry on top was that I was also the most experience one in class - but this is only undermined by being the MOST inept person in Mr. Heinz's Intermediate class. (Need I reference the whole standing split stretch incident...again?) We are moving into the degage and rond de jamb combinations where I start to screw up because I haven't got the arm thing down. We move into stretching and battements when Bitchy starts acting up.

Menty: We should probably take it easy.

Side Bar: It's ok. It's just a little touchy, but we are doing fine.

Menty: We should probably skip the jumps.

Side Bar: Let's see how it goes..

Menty: Let's not and say we did....

Away I go into the adagio and clear that without too much issue, but again Bitchy is starting to let me know that it's NOT all GOOD. We make it to jumps and I go for it - thinking - I should consider this rehab. I make it THRU jumps and into the traveling floor combinations when Bitchy finds his voice.

Bitchy: I said SIT DOWN DUMBASS!

Menty and Side Bar: OOOOOUUUUCCCHHHH!!

"I'm going to sit down over here." I whimper to Miss M.

Miss M and other class members watch me limp over to the bench and rub my left knee slowly. I take a few deep breaths and try not to feel like crap. I make it home to prop my knee and ice my Bitchy muscle.

Dear Bitchy - you are obviously a bad muscle near the top of my knee. My efforts to try to strengthen you have been met with extreme resistance. I don't appreciate your lack of cooperation. I do not want to have to re-work my choreography to accommodate you, but I will STILL EFFING PERFORM if I have to change my choreo. I'm trying to make peace with you, but you need to be warned - if you keep fuckin' with me - I may have to put you on drugs.

Signed: Physie, Menty, and Side Bar, Bitch!

It's Funny because I'm NOT Doing It

Originally posted on June 12, 2012

I did go to class on Thursday, but other than seeing Lil Black Chick in class, it was pretty uneventful.

So I told Mr. Heinz's that I was coming to class today and I promised Spunk I would pick her up - which means I have to go. Spunk and I arrive at the dance door to find it locked. Spunk rings the buzzer and as I'm looking through the glass door to the top of the stairs, Mr. Heinz rounds the corner and scares the bejesus out of me (and Spunk). 

Mr. Heinz says "What you are guys doing down here?"

"The door's locked." I say as I reach for and open the door. 

"She just buzzed it." I say and Spunk goes up, then I go up and Mr. Heinz follows. 

I don't want to go in front of Mr. Heinz because I'm having an elephant ass kinda day, but whatever. 

"Sure." Mr. Heinz says like he doesn't believe me. 

"Umm...yeah, because I like standing outside the dance studio door instead of going to class." I blurt as I try to get up the stairs quickly. Just in case the thought crossed his mind to swat me for being a smartass. 

Spunk and I line up at the same barre. One of the owners and two other ladies line up at other barres. Mr. Heinz must have had a late night because he was nice enough to give us a warm up facing the barre. Typically he likes to start off with the whip, ring of fire and a lion. We complete our plie combinations without any fire emergencies.

When we move into tendus, I'm not sure if I need to start on the 'and' or the 'one' - it makes a difference - so I'm already off and this is only tendus. I'm following behind Spunk, whose strong little legs are moving so fast they have little blurry edges. Tendus - 1, Me - Zip.

At this point, I know class is going to go downhill and land with me in Shits Creek - no boat, no paddles. Every combination, henceforth, had at least one rond de jamb en l'air, one developpe in second position, one arabesque, one panache, and at least all of them on releve with or with a balance (mine - primarily without)!!

However, when it was time to stretch, Mr. Heinz says, " Ok. You are going to grab your leg and stretch it in front and side of you." And I think I blanked out for a second, so Ireally, really focused to be sure I heard him say what he said. "And then you are going to repeat it on the left side." Mr. Heinz finishes. Spunk is already looking at me. And like a timer going off:

"Hahahahahaha! I'M NOT DOING THAT! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!" Side Bar blurts out. 

The whole class breaks into laughter. 

"Ok, you can do splits or that." Mr. Heinz says between laughing. 

"See. Things like this is why I don't stay for floor work!" Side Bar finishes. 

More class laughter....

Side Bar: Not a chance in hell I'll be doing splits EITHER.

Menty: But nice that he thinks it's possible.

Side Bar: I guess...

Menty: I got nothing...

Barre - 1901 points, Me - Zip, Zulch, Zero, Nada....

I do stay for floor. I'm nervous as hell but what doesn't kill me makes me stronger....or is that stupider??

Mr. Heinz gives us a tendu combination with passes and pirouettes.

"When I fall, feel free to ask me if I'm ok before you all burst into laughter." I say before Mr. Heinz hits the music. 

More class laughter. 

I can actual do this one - and I can even make it through a double pirouette without wiping out.

However, I am no longer fooled by the easy opening. Our next combination involves tendus, arabesque in plie, on releve, passe and changing direction. I don't nail this combination, but it wasn't a complete disaster. The next combination involves glissade, assemblage, coupe front, coupe arabesque, coupe to the right, then the left, glissade, assemblage.  

Side Bar: Good luck. 

Physie: ok, so....right foot, left foot...

I don't face plant or butt plant for that matter. He does make us jump - a lot after that last combination. I go to the barre when he goes with faster music. 

Spunk and I are discussing teachers that give physical corrections and I remind her of the one I received from Mr. Heinz - when my ass was sticking out. He took his forearm and pushed it down my little back and pass my ass to push it down.  

And I was thinking "ass down, ass down - bad ass, bad!" Oh well - I haven't had to have THAT CORRECTION again.

101

Originally posted on June 7, 2011
So for all technical purposes, if you skip all the missed classes from work and solely looked at dates - this makes 365 days to the start of my ballet adventure - give or take. If we actually go by the number of weeks, I need to go through the first week of July, which I intend to do. 

Today was a hot one and knowing that Joel Hall Studio was going to be roasting hot, I seriously considered a leotard and tights - and then I recovered from my heat stroke and put on my usual attire. I walked into the studio to find Not David sweating profusely behind the registration desk. MDB was standing beside him smiling and looking not so sweaty. 

I'm registered in record time by Not David and the few, the proud, and possibly the stupid meander back to Studio D to brave what is guaranteed to be Bikram Ballet. I line up to the barre with Ms. J, the Swam and 3 other woman when Legs (formerly known as Tall Black Chick) joins the class in pointe shoes. I stop myself from doing an eye roll, but just barely. 

As we start our usual plies, the ipod cuts off because the stereo system has been baking for the last 12 hours. MDB leaves us to complete the plies in silence while she hunts for the boom box. Being the disciplined and dedicated students we are, we finish our plie combination and stand in first position awaiting her return. Now I was totally willing to take the opportunity to just stand there and lie when she returned but from the looks in the eyes of the others - someone would have ratted me out. Damn goody two shoes. 

We make it through our tendu and degage combination before MDB gives us this funky degage combo facing the barre - 7 degages right, clap, 7 degages left, clap, 3 degages, clap, 1 degage, clap. MDB says "the clap isn't really important. I won't beat you if you are off or anything, but you'll know if you are off if you are the only one clapping."

Side Bar: If it's not important, then why we gotta do it?
Menty: It's just a combination.
Side Bar: We don't clap during battements and we could really USE a CLAP during battements. 
Menty: Yeah well...

Everyone claps in time, no one falls over and MDB doesn't make us do it again - SUCCESS!
We move through our rond de jambs with fondues, our sticky floor frappes with coupes, stretch for our splits and then battement until my hips want to fall off.  By the end of barre, I look like an ice cold glass of water still on a warm table - dripping - but probably not as refreshing. 

We move into center floor and handle a few tendus, an adagio and jumps. We move to the left corner and take our first traveling combination of balances, pique turns, balance, spinning turn and step through and finish with three chasse, pas de bournee, glissade, assemblage. 

As we try in vain to wipe to sweat from our faces, chests and arms, MDB tells us that this is the last Tuesday class. Which means my intermediate belly dance class is going to need a new rehearsal day because I'm going to Monday night ballet class - starting in July. 

The first class in July will be my official 'end of the year'. I'm going to continue ballet 'training', but I'm not going to write about it unless I make it to ballet 2 any time soon - which is doubtful. But I will probably sign up for another adventure.

A Mr. Heinz Intermediate Interlude

Originally posted on June 7, 2011_______________________________

I didn't go to Thursday night Ballet Fundamentals. The actual bone structure and ligaments of my knee are all fine. It's my muscles and possibly the tendons that are flipping out. After strenous stretching on Wednesday night, I cried on Thursday morning and stayed put on Thursday night.


I'd be lying if I said I decided to go to Mr. Heinz's intermediate class to actually go to ballet class. I went because Spunk graduated while I was out of town and I knew she would be going to class on Sunday. It was not a 'big' girl moment for me because even as I was getting in the car I was thinking of ways to drop and run.


When I arrive at the studio, I forget the door pulls open - not pushes so I'm standing there for a few moments trying figure out why NO ONE is at the flippin studio before class - when I realize two very important things: 1) I have NOT had coffee and 2) Open says me only works in Disney movies. After pushing the buzzer and being told to come in - twice - I figure out the stupid door and head up the familiar-ish stairs (yes, still kinda dark, still kinda creaky).


I arrive at the top to find the lobby area Spunkless, but I get a kind and friendly greeting from one of the owners. I hit the Starbucks and come back to stretch when the door opens - in walks the rather tall Mr. Heinz. I think he jumped a bit when he saw me. I didn't yell SURPRISE and it wasn't like my hair was on fire or anything, but my last correspondence with him was about braving Sunday Intermediate class.....about...oh...ummmm...6 months ago (maybe 7). I smiled, waved, good morninged him and my stomach promptly did a little dance in my lap (and I'm not talking belly rolls either). I had a short flash back of first coming to his class - scary.


Spunk rounds the corner and jumps me. After squeezing her tight and handing her the handmade graduation gift box, I watch as she opens her gift. She's all smiles and sunshine as she paws through the box. The book that I made her actually has two magazine prints of Mr. Heinz's in them. Due to the ruckus we are causing, Mr. Heinz takes an interest in the book. Before he inadverently discovers himself, I tell him he's in the book - which now has his undivided attention. After more confirmation that I actually made the book (I may not be the best at ballet, but I do have my creativity in other areas - damn it), we head into the studio and pull out the barres. I advise Mr. Heinz that I'm out after barre.


Deep breath, sip of coffee, line up behind Spunk and we start. Now I don't think Mr. Heinz misses me, I just think his class is effing HARD. Being that this is Intermediate class, it's going to be effing HARDER. What happened next is a bit of a blur - but I think almost every combination had some form of tendu, plie, battement and fondu in it. Around the third combination, Side Bar said, "I knew we were going to repeat that combination when I FIRST SAW YOU DO IT."  Mr. Heinz gives me the pipe down over there look and Spunk giggles (but she did it right the first time). I think after the fifth combination, Mr. Heinz finally cried MERCY and came to my side of the barre to show ME the next combination.


Side Bar: Straight to hell, man. Going to straight to the 'Hot Place'
Menty: Couldn't even START downhill cause we were already there...
Side Bar: Yup....

Now, I don't actually know if the combinations got easier after that OR if my brain finally woke up and joined the party OR if Mr. Heinz was just so tired of watching me butcher his poor combinations, but something happened where I could actually follow. When battement torture...umm..combination finally ended, I packed up. I had another committment (non-ballet related) and couldn't stay for floorwork - Thank. You. Sweet. Baby. Jesus.  There was only three of us and Mr. Heinz in class - I am NOT cut out for that kinda attention. It was bad enough when there was 8 of us in class - it's a whole NEW ball game when I can't hide at all.


As I pack up, Mr. Heinz asks me if I'm still chickening out. "No. I got plans." I say as I move my things to lobby area with my head held high.


Side Bar: Show NO Fear...wild animals can sense it.
Menty: Hehehehehe

"I'll be back next Sunday." I say over my shoulder as I slide into my shoes and air hug Spunk (I kinda sweaty and icky).
Side Bar: What the !?!>?!
Menty: I'm no chicken!
Side Bar: Now we're 'that guy'? Saying shit we don't mean...
Menty: We will be back.
Side Bar: You and what army?

I devolve into mentally kicking myself and wondering if I can gracefully back out of going to class....so far, I've got nothing.....

When MDB Misses Me

Originally posted on June 2, 2011________________________________________
Due to sheer exhaustion and lack of nightly 32oz frozen hurricanes, I felt like skipping my regularly scheduled ballet activity and considered throwing myself a pity party. However, I just know that if I put off my first class back, it will only go downhill faster.

After walking into the studio and seeing Not David at the desk (again), I wait in the line that has accumulated and spot MDB chatting in the back. Part of me wants to run over and hug her; the other part of me knows if I get out of this line to do so, I’m going to have to get to the back because Not David is super slow.  I’m finally registered, hugged and lined up at the barre.

Side Bar: Here we go…
Menty: This won’t be so bad.
Side Bar: Famous last words.

Ms. J and I were the only two people in class which means MDB would be handing out corrections like Halloween candy…..frequently. As usual, when I’m gone for long periods of time, MDB must fuss. I was most happy that our plie combination did not change – they are one point of consistent comfort. But when we made it to tendus – MDB concocted some cockamamie combination that made my eyebrows run for my hairline.

Side Bar: Did she just say yo mama?
Menty: Ummm…not exactly?

MDB gives us the combination again (four tendus front, side, front inside leg, then eight back outside leg, four side, four back inside leg  and four front outside leg and plie – yes, COMPLETE brain fart moment) and then tries to explain it one more time. At which point I basically yell UNCLE! “Please don’t explain it again. I’m already confused so I might still get it right.” MDB has a mischievous smile on her face and laughs before turning on the music. And miraculously enough, Ms. J and I don’t do too badly.

One lady joins us after the tendu combination and MDB sticks her in the middle so she can watch someone in both directions. I find myself once again in the broken mirror. MDB gives us the same combination but for degages and demonstrates it for the sake of further confusion and WTFness – or maybe because she wants the new chick to see it.
We screw up the first side very well – which I’m going to point out was NOT my side. The left side was better (maybe) but I still think it would have gone better if she hadn’t shown us again. We move into rond de jambs which started with some battement fondu action. We massacre that poor little combination and move on to hurt, maim and kill the frappe and battement combinations.  MDB moves us into our split exercises and make us whack our calves for shoulder exercises.

Our adagio was almost easy and brief in comparison to the barre. Having had that similar combination before with MDB screaming TOUCH IT!, I made a concerted effort to TOUCH IT (IT being my left or right thigh as my arm and hand passed it) every single time.  But now I start to worry about the traveling floor combinations.  
Side Bar: That seem easy to you, Menty?
Menty: Yup.
Side Bar: Are you worried?
Menty: Yup.
Side Bar: Oh shit.
Menty: Yup with a side of Pretty Much.

We move off to the side and start our first combination which involves chasse, pas de bournee, pirouette, and some funky forward balance business. We have to do it at least three times and we don’t even get it right going in the opposite direction. Our last combination involves preparation on AND (which isn’t a beat or count!) with hops, skips, glissade, pas de shaw (that’s not the right spelling but it sounds like that). And if you guessed we didn’t get that right either – you’d be correct.

But this is what happens when I’m gone too long and MDB misses me – a constant state of WTFness on my part and jubilant mischief on her part.

And the cherry on top is the studio might be cancelling my Tuesday class because of low attendance.

A Ballet Slipper walks up to a Barre And......

Originally posted on May 17th_____________________________________

No - I'm not attending ballet classes while in New Orleans. After finding out there is only one ballet company in New Orleans and the waiting list is over a yearlong to take a class, I knew I wouldn't have a chance.
I did not go to Mr. Heinz's Sunday class. I did not chicken out. Though Mr. Heinz's mom lives in a different country - apparently he's a devout follower and cancelled class in honor. Ok - that maybe a lie but class was cancelled - through no fault of my own.

But I did go to ballet on Thursday night. 

Class started with 4 of us total at the barre. Ashley of the Olsen twins came and brought the equavilent of DJ (the Olsen twins older tv sister). DJ was convinced she knew me - but we couldn't figure out how our paths would have crossed. I tend to be out and about fairly often, but I don't think my face (or name) are that common. After nodding and smiling (f*ckin friendly hormones again), we line up at the barre.

As Miss M is going through plies, a semi-pregnant (as in showing but not at the tipping point) squeezes between me and the woman at the end (oddly enough - Ashley and I put the newbies on the ends leaving them with no one to follow). Miss M offers us all the opportunity to move to the front barre. Today is not a front barre kinda day. I turn to the late arrival and volunteer her - quickly and with lots of hand gesturing (no middle fingers involved).

She smiles and moves quickly - I think some rather quick calculations on her part made that a good idea - i.e. 5'8, kinda fluffy, slightly crazed, braided lady waving frantically to move - versus - 5'1, skinny with belly bulge within arms reach of me....
Side bar: I like her already
Menty: Physie - I need you to do a deep sigh and a head smack.
Physie: I'm gonna pass but nice try...

We move through our plies combinations without incident, but Ashley and I realize that we are pretty much on our own for remembering the combinations. As we get into our tendu combination, Miss M gives us some tricky business but reassures us that we will do it again with degages.
Side Bar: You feeling assured?
Menty: Nope
Side Bar: Didn't think so.....

We make it through the tendus and Miss M getting the hint - leads us through the degages. After some rond de jamb and frappe madness, we move into barre strengths and leg throwing - ummm...battements.
I'm getting better at battements or it's just getting easier to swing my leg back and forth pass my gut and butt :) Apparently, I still need hip work, but don't worry about it as much.

We make it through an adagio without falling onto the floor during the promenade, but it was touch and go at least twice. Our center floorwork consist sissones. And while I'm fairly familar with right to left - front to back has not yet been introduced....probably because side to side is hard enough. Ashley and I go first with Miss M, but she makes us do it from fifth position instead of first. After that greek tragedy is complete, we move to the traveling combinations.

We only have time for one combination and it is tombee, pas de bouree three times, then tombee, pas de bouree into arabesque on releve -and holding it. I manage not to fall into the piano with my face, break my fall with my right hip or slam any necessary body parts into inaminate objects.
So my ballet slippers walk up to the barre and the barre-tender says - throw that leg over here :)