A good class, at last

I didn’t mention this yesterday as I didn’t want to jinx it, but I was very excited about my ballet class all day yesterday. Not just because I woke up next to the lovely J (and therefore got the day off to a fabulous start), but also because for the first time in two and a half months, my ankle wasn’t hurting. Normally I have to force it into the right position (it doesn’t like either pointing or flexing), but not any more. So I was very excited, as I would finally be able to do allegro.

To try and distract myself from thinking about the class- I didn’t want to build it up in my mind to something really great, only for it to go horribly wrong by me breaking my leg or something- I decided I would tidy my desk. That’s so sad, I know. But it was really messy. I’m planning to make my great escape from this place sooner rather than later, so I want to be ready to go at the drop of a hat. I can’t believe how much stuff I’d been hoarding. Here are some of the things I found, along with the endless papers:

- a pair of pink and black stripy socks (the type with the separate toes)
- nail varnish remover
- my Chairman Mao pencil case
- lots of sachets of lemsip
- some old payslips
- various business cards, none of them mine, of course
- a packet of instant noodles
- several spoons
- 38p
- lipgloss

I thought it was quite an impressive haul actually.

Anyway, back to ballet. I got there really quickly, amazingly, and had a bit of a chat before class started. When I went into my class my friend told me I was looking pretty but I think she was joking. I was wearing a skirt, for once, which I suppose does look alright, though I wouldn’t say I looked pretty as such. It’s hard to look pretty when you’re wearing a leotard, pink tights and leg warmers, even if you have a nice skirt on. Still, it’s probably more feminine than the shorts I normally wear, so I suppose I’ll give her that. As I get older, I get more and more conscious of what I’m wearing in class. I feel really fat and sometimes I think I would be happier wearing a burka so no one could see my stomach- though, of course, that would not be very conducive to ballet as you wouldn’t be able to see ANYTHING. It’s like the clothes that I wear outside of class as well. It’s easy to tell when I’m feeling fat, as I’ll either wear a dress over my jeans, or I’ll wear this one particular black shirt, which shows a fair amount of cleavage but doesn’t cling to my stomach. I’m wearing that shirt today (and have done a fair few times recently- I really need to do something about this).

The class got off to a good start, although I felt a slight twinge in my ankle during the first exercise. I thought that I might not be able to finish the class, but it was fine after that one small incident. I wasn’t feeling particularly strong, and my balance was quite off, but I really enjoyed the class anyway. My teacher gave me some useful corrections. I do something weird with my rib cage sometimes, and I’m always being corrected for it, but normally my teachers just put it in the right place without explaining to me what it is that I’m doing wrong. This time I made my teacher explain it to me, and I have more of an idea what it is that I need to do. The other thing is that I’m slightly twisting my knee on my left (I think it’s left anyway- I really need to learn to tell these apart) side as my weight is in slightly the wrong place. I can work on those…

I used to prefer my Thursday class to the one on Wednesday’s, as I found it easier and the people and teacher friendlier. Now I like both, though I still think I get on better with the Thursday people, as we’ve bonded more. Last term I used to cry after almost every Wednesday class, and if it weren’t for the other class, I would have quit. But now I’m not being so emotional about it all, and I’ve got a tiny bit more confidence, I’m happy in both classes. Having said that, I cried last Wednesday, and nearly during the class too. I was seriously considering quitting as it felt like I wasn’t improving at all, and my ankle was still very sore. I think it was a psychological thing.

So, a good class. I managed to do quite a lot of the steps. My pirouettes are nothing like they used to be and petit allegro was rubbish, but I had fun. I can feel that my ankle isn’t very strong, so I’ll keep working on that. It ached a bit this morning, which isn’t surprising really considering that I haven’t used some of those muscles for two months. Oh, and I finally killed my shoes. The small hole made by my big toenail has turned into quite a big hole. I suppose it matches the holes in my tights… I must look like a real tramp in class.

When I got home, I completely forgot to call my mum, as I’d promised. I chatted to camper#1 for a bit, who’s having some boyfriend trouble. She apologised for saying stupid things the other night. To be honest, I couldn’t remember what she’d said, but then I remembered that we all seem to have a bit of a knack for saying the weirdest possible thing when introduced to each other’s love interests. For example:

1) When my ex came round to collect some of his stuff, camper#1 said “So, how’ve you been?” despite the fact she’d never met him before.
2) When I met camper#1’s boyfriend, the only thing I could think of to say was “I had a really weird dream last night where I accidentally left all my luggage on a train in Poland.”
3) J, the other night, said to my housemates that he really liked the flat, camper#1 said, “That’s weird. People normally hate it.”

Clearly we are all completely incapable of having normal conversations. Actually, it seems to be mainly me and camper#1. Maybe we subconsciously don’t want each other to have boyfriends, as it means we can’t sit on the steps and smoke fags together while whinging about men. But that’s crazy talk. Camper#1 has had a boyfriend for ages, and we still manage that. Admittedly I haven’t had a boyfriend in the time I’ve lived in the flat, but then again, I hardly ever invite anyone round, so how would she be able to scare them off? Perhaps subconsciously she is sending them weird-vibes… I don’t know.

Just before going to bed, I had one of those shared house dilemmas. I knew for a fact that camper#2 was asleep, and camper#1 was in bed, so I figured I could make a dash from the bathroom back to my room without putting my top back on. Admittedly there would be a chance that they might choose this exact moment to come out of their rooms, but then it would be their own fault for seeing me topless. Just as I opened the bathroom door, I heard the front door open, and camper#3 and her boyfriend come in. I immediately put my jumper back on, trying not to let the door slam and wake up the whole house. I went into the corridor and camper#3’s boyfriend made a comment about my hoodie, which was a little bit weird. I suppose I’m the only one in the house who wears them, but I only really wear most of them to keep warm around the house, although I do wear some of them out. Still, is it so weird to wear a hoodie? It’s not like I look like some asbo’d youth.

As I was typing that I realised that I’m actually wearing a hoodie to work today. As well as my vain-attempt-to-hide-my-figure black shirt. I bet I look really classy.