Category: Uncategorized

progress

The greatest thing a teach can shout at you in class after, “Good” “Great” or “Yes”

is, “Better”
Yesterday I was smacked in the face with my fears
Thankfully, I didn’t break down and freak out. Instead, my teacher helped me see what I was doing wrong and what to do to fix it to do the steps correctly. That’s what scared me. Correctly felt like a pending rolled ankle. 
But it will only be that if I get scared. If I go for the step confidently, then I’ll hit it. 
(I’ve also realized that my arches such in these shoes. No matter how hard I pointe in them, it doesn’t look like it. So. Gotta work on that. Anyway)
We were working on various things across the floor, which I was super grateful for. This is where I know I need work and to build up my confidence for it. Part of the combination was to do a pique passe preparation, then to do a chasse to prepare for a pirouette from 4th.
Yes, I thought, This is exactly what I need! 
And what did I do first time around?
sucked it up. 
I undershot and ended up just on demi. I couldn’t get all the way on to full releve. UGH.
So we did the left, lalala, whatever. I found myself flubbing up the combinations more than usual. This is probably due to my brain being fuzzy and my heart overwhelmed. Which I try to leave at home, but sometimes I can’t ignore it enough.
We got to do the combination again. 
This time, I got the pirouette in. It was spotty, but I managed.
That’s when Ms. Munro yelled out, “Better, Emilee!” in her adorable British accent.
Better.
I’m getting better.
And I know how to work on my feet and what to do. And I know what to work on and what to push towards.
And sometimes my feet look ugly in my shoes, and I’m trying to figure out if it’s the shoes, my lack of arch, or my still-trying-to-build confidence that will fix it.
So. there’s that.
I started class thinking, “why do I even try” and was able to leave feeling “this is why.”
Here ya go. I don’t post these often, because I pretend that I actually look like a ballerina and tend to prefer the allusion. But whatever. This is who I am and here it is.

Blisters popped, and I didn’t even notice! This is a big deal for me! Go me! 
hah
And, another one, where my friend caught it as I was starting to fall out of it.
But, eh, whatevs.
I couldn’t do that two months ago.
Yay wonder shoes!

If you don’t like rants, don’t read this.

I’ve been putting off writing an update because, honestly, I don’t have anything flowery or happy to say right now.
I tried yesterday, but that just led to this update window being up for 6 hours before I finally closed it, knowing nothing was going to be posted that day.

I’ve been having a difficult time in my life; mentally, emotionally, physically.
And I know it won’t last forever, and I know I’ll be fine eventually, but right now I’m not. And it’s something I just have to get through. But I used to have this horrible habit of bottling things up and ignoring them until they exploded, or I did something I shouldn’t do, or whatever, and I can’t do that anymore. Instead I have to go through the unpleasant process of actually letting myself feel things. And it sucks. And it can be dark. and I don’t typically like taking people there with me. But it’s part of the process, and this is my story, so whatever. I can’t be any different than who I am. I can strive to be better, which is what I am doing, but I must remember that I am still human.
I will never not be human.

And I’ve been struggling heavily with appearance lately. And the hardest part is that I am extremely limited as to what positive action (or action at all, really) that I can take with this. This makes it more difficult, because I inevitably don’t have much control over the situation. Not as much as I need, at least.

You see, I haven’t been well since I was 14. And there are all sorts of theories and such as to why. I know part of it was due to the fact that I didn’t really eat for four years, but no doctor is doing anything about it. Surely there has to be some kind of something we can do to help my body? Something? Whatever. (It should be noted that my family practitioner has done everything she can. But she’s limited. Heart of gold, though.) So, I’ve been tested since I was 19 and finally went to the doctor about it all. Fast forward to me now at 26, and I’m better than I was then, but not much. (I am also missing an organ I had back then, so there’s that.)
In all this nonsense, I have found it very difficult to lose weight. The way it has escalated, if I don’t eat enough–which feels like too much–I get really light headed and feel weak and cloudy-brained. Which, of course, isn’t good for ballet. I also get tired really easily, especially if I am not able to get copious amounts of sleep. If I eat the wrong thing, I can feel really nauseous, or like it’s just sitting in my stomach, which makes me feel really lethargic and sluggish. (And is horrible for ballet.) Sometimes I really struggle with being able to use my core at all. Sometimes (most of the time) I get really light headed after doing a back cambre, (thanks for the spelling tips, justanotherbunhead! 🙂 Just wish I could get the accent mark on that e…hmm… ) or a “circle” as we call it. I’ll lose vision for a couple seconds, and won’t really be able to think, yet still have to keep up with the moves so I don’t look lost. When I eat the wrong thing, now I can’t tell if it’s some odd reaction to not having a gallbladder, or something else. Sometimes the only way to keep the feeling away is by continuing to eat. Sometimes I just don’t want to eat anything at all, but I have to. There are all sorts of theories and possibilities, but one stomach specialist (who made me feel like utter and complete ignorant crap) told me, “I don’t know what else to do for you.” The next one agreed with the first and just put me on anxiety medication (It’s what they give diabetics to rewire their brain into thinking that what’s pain isn’t pain.)
Okay. Great. Thanks, jackasses.
So, back at square one. I don’t know what’s wrong, my gallbladder crapped out in the process, and I still feel like crap 97% of the time. I don’t know what normal is anymore, I don’t enjoy food or eating, yet I don’t want to not eat enough and pass out. It sucks, and I’m stuck.

Also, I’m currently living at my parents home, where there isn’t room for me. It’s only temporary, but it should have been finished by now. And there’s nothing I can do to speed up time, so I just have to wait.
This also limits how much I can practice, being that I don’t even have the space to work on splits or do a sit up or anything currently. I really need to work on my pirouette’s for Nutcracker, and I just can’t. And it’s all getting closer and makes me panic.
Not to mention that I really want to improve. I want to get better. But there is literally nothing I can do at home.
And the only way for me to lose weight is to walk. But I haven’t been able to for a while because a. I was injured when the weather was nice and now b. the mosquitoes are either too bad or it’s raining, which causes more mosquitoes because we freakin’ can’t get a cold enough cold front to get rid of them and c. we live in the country, so a gym membership is a joke. And my clothes aren’t fitting and my leos are problematic and they hardly make them big enough for me as it is.

My solutions are seemingly simple but still unattainable.
I still don’t know what’s making me sick, but I can’t try these different remedies since I don’t have any space in the kitchen. It’s gotten to where there are days I just have to go without eating all together (which SUCKS after a long dance day) because no one warned me, mom didn’t cook anything (and didn’t tell me) or cooked something I can’t eat without getting sick. (You must understand that I don’t have space to put anything to plan this out in advance. I can’t eat most “ready-made” things. It really sucks.)
Also, there is no seeming rhyme or reason let alone a patter to what I can and can’t eat, so it’s really difficult to find things.

Needless to say, it’s stressful.
And no one understands the amount of sleep I need, and how important it is, and that I’m not just whining, but this is legit. Because most people can’t even tell I’m sick, they just think I’m lazy if they see anything.

And I feel a lot of pressure to be better than I am. Because I’m freakin’ 26, and I’ve “been on pointe” for a year, even though I just got the right shoes, which have been causing blisters so I still have a ways to go to figure all of that out. So I feel extremely behind, and I really just want to be better.
And then I have people saying, “they know you’re only dancing for like, a minute, right? I don’t want them to be disappointed, paying all that money and you’re not dancing for very long” whenever I excitedly sell another ticket to a friend who wants to see me. Which makes me want to be better at the minute I am on stage, so no one is disappointed, or I don’t make a fool of myself on stage. Because I should be better. It shouldn’t hurt this badly. Gah, keep it together, Emilee.
And then people asking if I get to wear a tutu and be like a real ballerina, and seeing their faces drop as I have to explain, “It’s more of a character part” and make it sound as good as possible so they won’t be disappointed that I’m only there a short time in second act. And I don’t want people to come and see me and have it in their mind that I’m great only to see me and it seem juvenile or easy. Because it’s not. Not for me.

And then I have freaking friends die, and people complaining to me about how mentally and physically drained they are, and I have no empathy. And other people who are so happy and I want to be happy with them, but inside I’m really very sad. And feeling rather hopeless. And I know it’ll get better, but it’s not yet, and that’s probably the worst thing, because I feel like an idiot or like I’m weak for feeling these things.

So, moral of the post.
If you find yourself rowing a similar boat.
You’re not weak
You’re not hopeless
It will get better, but it’s not yet, and that’s okay
It’s okay to feel these things
You are human, after all.
Leave yourself room to be human.
Days will come when everything is perfect. Fight for those days.
But when they aren’t here, that’s okay too.
It’s okay. 

"Hold it together"

We were doing a turn combination in my V’s class that proved rather challenging, even though it wasn’t all that difficult.

Pique, pique, double pique, prouette, releve, attitude turn,  four chaines.

Everyone seemed to struggle with it.
We also did another combination across the floor that didn’t contain steps that were too difficult, but almost everyone struggled with the timing.

Saute, develope, glissade, jete, chasse, sou de basque, arabesque, chasse, tour jete, chasse, fouette, glissade, grande jete.

Our teacher told us before we did the left side, “You have to make sure that you are engaging your core, holding your epaulement correctly, you need to just kinda, hold it all together. That’s how you’ll get through and get the timing.

This has become my mantra.

Life can occasionally feel like it’s falling apart.
Things may not even necessarily be going badly, but you’re still at the end of your rope.
No idea how you’re gonna make it or what you’re gonna do about it all

You just have to hold it all together–you can’t afford to break down.

Hold it together.

New Shoes.

I’m kinda sad I didn’t get any pictures in class yesterday, but whatever.
It was my first (actual) class in my new wonder-shoes and to say I was nervous would be an understatement.
I wanted and needed so badly for these shoes to work, and judging by nutcracker rehearsals in them, I wasn’t all that hopeful that they would be better than the ones before.
Our normal teacher, Lori, wasn’t in class so we had the studio owner Ms. Munro teaching our class. I was sad to not have Lori, but having Ms. Munro is never a bad thing. Plus, as long as I give good face, I have found that Ms. Munro doesn’t tell me off if I have to do a few things on demi-pointe. (hehehe.)

Let me just say, it felt so good to be back in class. It also threw some insecurities in my face, but whatever.
Barre on flat at the beginning of the class went well. Ms. Munro complimented my back combre (yeah, no idea if that’s spelled correctly or not.) which made me feel really good. I don’t know if it’s just me, or if something flipped, or what, but it seems like a majority of the class has been kind of slacking. Maybe it’s just because we had Ms. Munro and she’s in Nutcracker mode, but (even with rehearsals) it seems that the class is rather distracted and not so confident. If that even makes sense? I don’t know. But it really showed me how far a little confidence can go–even if you have to wing it.
Ms. Munro seemed to have a lot of compliments for me yesterday, which was pretty cool. That’s never happened before, but hey, I’ll take it! And maybe it’s a mix of throwing caution to the wind with everyone else’s lack of whatever I can’t figure out how to explain. (And it’s not necessarily everyone. There are some really talented dancers in our class. I’m referring to the air as a whole. Maybe that’s what’s tripping me up.) Also, the girls are younger. So it may just be a maturity thing. I dunno.
Anyway. It was really exciting to hear the teacher commend me. It seems that all I’ve had is downs and downs and more downs in class here lately. And it was the first actual class in my new shoes. The last time I had a good class–capability wise–was about a year ago. Ya know, when I first started. There was a period of about 4 classes where I was actually able to do things, and I was afraid I would never see a day like that again.

I think part of what set apart yesterday’s class from the Nutcracker rehearsal last week was the floor. At the studio, it’s a black floor that’s a little more solid. At the Corpus Christi Ballet studio, it’s a little more squishy. I think somehow that had an effect. Mixed with the forced confidence yesterday, and somehow it spurned success.

I was really excited about writing this post after yesterday’s class, and now that it is written, I feel a little ridiculous. I can’t seem to put into words what I want to put into words, and it’s feeling a bit like a train wreck.

Oh well.

It was a great class that left me feeling like I never wanted to go another day without dancing. It gave me hope that I’m not a lost cause, and that maybe I can improve with time.

Also, I looked on the website for Nutcracker photo shoot times and stuff, and saw that I am an Apprentice with the company.
Which sounds pretty cool.
So, there’s that.

Monday

Yesterday was my first actual class back since I had to sit out/was out of town (conveniently during the same time.)
And I’ll be honest with you, part of me didn’t want to go.
Don’t get me wrong, I love ballet. I’d dance every day if I could.
So why didn’t I want to go?
Honestly, I’m not sure.
Maybe a part of me got lazy. Maybe I liked having time to get things done.
Maybe it’s because it’s the more difficult and advanced class, with the students who are better than me. Maybe it’s because I was exhausted of facing that by just the thought of it.

Still, I went.
Like all the time before, I told myself how much happier I would be after going.
That I want this.
There is always the risk that it’ll be an off day and my fears will be confirmed and I’ll wish I hadn’t gone. But the odds of this happen are far less than the odds of it not happening.
I went, and I was exhausted.
My arches were angry and my calves were sore.
I had to soak my ankle after class to be safe. It did alright in class, but I could feel it which isn’t a good thing. I figured better safe than sorry.

These days can be extra overwhelming, since I’m still adjusting to the new studio.
It’s getting better, and I’m acclimating, but part of me is still homesick for the place I can never be again. To be surrounded by something familiar, predictable, and to be around people whose names I know and who know mine. There’s an unspoken competitive strand that every dancer gives off, and sometimes it can be overwhelming. Until you get to know them, and are reminded that even the greatest dancers are human and probably look to you for one thing or another that you had no idea about.

Leaving class, a few more people spoke to me. One of the sweet younger ones smiled at me and I think recognized me from Nutcracker rehearsals. My teacher smiled at me as she passed by me.
I know I’m not perfect, and I know this class is a little above where I stand, but it is a nice feeling to go and leave feeling like people like having you there. Instead of feeling like you don’t belong or aren’t wanted.

Here is a picture of one of the younger girls watching the older girls doing their fouette’s.
I didn’t get my phone out fast enough for the better shot of it, but considering how long it took to get my phone, I was lucky to have a chance at a shot at all.

First Nutcracker Rehearsal

I got there unintentionally early, which ended up being a good thing since the annual Jazz Fest was across the street and parking was a joke.

I had barely finished sewing my pointe shoes at work. I had actually forgotten until about 3pm (I get off at 4:30) When I was putting together the new desk my boss got for me and realized I didn’t have much time. I wasn’t 100% sure if we would be wearing our shoes or not, but figured I should have them sewn just in case. I mean, the part isn’t that long, and this rehearsal is 2 1/2 hours. Surely we’d get into them.

This is before rehearsal started. I told the girls I needed to get a picture since I kept forgetting to take any for this blog. They were rather excited.
So we got started with a barre warm up, then referenced last year’s DVD for the choreography. Ms Munro put us in order by height, which thankfully there’s one other girl whose around my height, so I don’t stick out awkwardly among the other dancers. (Who are at least 10 years younger than me.)
She put us into two groups for the two different sides of the stage we would enter. The girls in my group would prove to be pretty great, as they were the quieter ones who paid attention and in turn gained the praise of Ms Munro. Which is coveted. Go team.
We learned the entire dance, which wasn’t too hard for me being that it’s rather short. But I definitely recognize the different parts I’ll need to improve on so I don’t look like a blubbering idiot up there. 
Ms Munro worked with the lead Chinese, who were adorable to watch. The girls are about 11, and the boys they are partnering are probably in high school, so the girls were rather giggly. But they would keep it together to get the dance done, which I thought was very mature of them. It was quite entertaining to watch. 
Ms. Munro had us put our pointe shoes on to work on the dance the second half, so we could get a feel for it.
This was the first time I had put these shoes on. They weren’t broken in at all, and I wasn’t even sure if they were sewn well. They proved to be pretty darn good.
I got mine on before the other girls, so I went over and walked in them a bit on the studio floor. I was instantly nervous when I remembered that there was a pirouette in the choreography, and the last time I did one was on this floor during auditions when I rolled my ankle. 
For some reason, the floor seemed squishier than usual and I felt less stable. I was anxious, to say the least, but tried not to let it overcome me. I could do this. I had to do this.
So I did a couple preparations to get the feel for the shoes and the floor, did a couple of almost intentionally horrible pirouettes to get the feel, then Ms Munro came over, as the other girls were practicing various things as well. One did a pirouette, then the other, and then she was looking at me. So, I gave it my best shot. 
I made it around, didn’t land it the best, but didn’t eat it either. Ms Munro said, “Good!” and carried on as if it wasn’t an emotionally traumatic thing for me. 
(Yes, that’s a little dramatic. But you get what I mean.)
I was a little discouraged that I could feel my foot slipping in my wondershoes.
(You know, the shoes I won through the Capezio fitting. )
I don’t remember them feeling like that at the fitting, and I really didn’t want a repeat of my Russians, where I couldn’t do a darn thing due to the pain it put on my big toe, instead of holding my foot like the Grishkos which–inevitably–lead to my rolled ankle.
I put it out of my mind and determined to do my best. I couldn’t do anything about it now, anyway. Plus, they’re brand new, and I’m wearing different toe pads then when I tried them on. Yes, that must be it.
I didn’t make it the whole rehearsal on them, but I sure did my best. I also didn’t push myself too hard and look ridiculous. I did last longer than I ever did in Russians, so I started to feel better about it. This was also the longest I had ever danced in pointe shoes at one time, so that was something to be said. 
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I just did the choreography on demi-pointe and gave really good face. Ms Munro never said anything. I think she knew I could do it and knew I was doing what I had to. So that was nice.
My fellow member of TeamTall hadn’t made it to rehearsal yet when we were going over the last bit of the dance. It involved bouree-ing around, back to back, with your partner for a certain amount of counts, doing a little jig, then bouree-ing around again to the finish. Ms. Munro demonstrated with me, liked how it felt, and wanted to see it. 
For some reason, no one else seemed to be able to grasp the concept.
It made me feel good that I was able to keep a clear head (which I can lose easily, especially in new situations) and follow along. Usually I’m too nervous to jump in and demonstrate things, but I guess I felt a sense of responsibility to set an example, being that I’m older. I don’t know. Anyway.
Summer–my TeamTall partner–came in at that pointe, put on her shoes in a hurry, and jumped in. (After a mini warm up.) (Ps. She was at CRP training, so she had a good reason to be late. Yay, Summer!) Ms. Munro showed her what we were trying to accomplish, and she busted it out near perfect and Ms. Munro was pleased, and ended up using us as the example for the rest of rehearsal.
I gave Summer a little mini talk-through of the steps, and Ms Munro went over them once, then she was thrown in. And let me tell you, I was impressed. Sure, she didn’t have it perfectly down-pat, but the girl kept up marvelously. By the end, she looked to be about the same level as the rest. She kept saying, “I don’t feel confident in this at all!” Which is understandable, since she was thrown in to a sink-or-swim kind of scenario, but man, did that girl swim. 
I know she’ll have it down by next rehearsal and blow everyone’s socks off. 
All in all, I’m excited about Nutcracker. I felt a little bit of shame in telling my parents they would be paying all this money to see me on stage for a minute, but they seemed not to care. I just can’t get their reaction to my recitals out of my head. (We don’t want to sit through all those baby dances just to see you for 2 1/2 minutes.) especially now that the tickets aren’t free. 
But whatever.
I’m doing this, and I’m going to have fun.
I’m going to keep my eyes and mind wide open to see everything there is to see about this entire experience. I hope to learn and improve and have fun with the girls. 
I also ordered the toe pads like what I had when I tried on the shoes, in hopes it helps.
I refuse to give up.
(These are my dead little feet after rehearsal.)

That one time I was interviewed for a newsletter.

Yeah, that happened.

My friend over at Introvertology asked to interview me on what it’s like to be an introvert in the field of photography. 
It was pretty cool, and you should check it out!
She also asked about dancing, so if you haven’t already clicked the link, do it now. 
This has never happened to me before, so I’m kinda geeking out.
Thea, the wonderful lady who runs Introvertology, found me on twitter when I hashtagged something as #introvert. It was under a different name at the time, and I looked at her posts and thought they were pretty great, so I gave her a follow. (Wonderful marketing skills, right there.)
When she decided to change the name, she did a little survey on which ones some of us liked over others. Now Thea has a really amazing newsletter going and a website. Even an introvert book club and recommendations! It’s an introvert’s dream, really.
I love getting to see how far it’s come, and am honored that she asked to interview me. She was even patient with me when I had to jet off to Kansas to see my aunt before surgery and didn’t have access to the pictures to send her, and even more patient when my laptop crashed and I had to find other ways to get to my pictures. 
If you’re an introvert, I suggest you give her a follow! 
Introverts unite, separately! 

Pointe Shoe Fitting

Once upon a time I entered this contest and somehow actually won and thought it was a scam, but then it wasn’t.

(A little update from that post: Dianne had emailed me and asked if it would be better for me to go to the Austin store instead of the Dallas store, so I got to cut my travel time in half and see some of my dance friends in the process.)
So yesterday I took a couple friends and we trekked up to Austin.

 First we met up with my dear friend Leslie. I met her when I first started dancing at Instep Dance Studios. She was the Administrative Assistant, and actually the first person I spoke to there. (besides my friends who recommended Instep to me.) Leslie got married last year and she and her husband moved to Austin this summer. It was so good to see her.

From there we headed to Capezio. And let me tell you, I was nervous. I was so hopeful that this was what I needed to finally solve my pointe shoe problem, but so nervous that it would be another dead end. This wasn’t the first time I’d gone out of town for a pointe shoe fitting. This wasn’t the second time. And with this most recent ankle roll from my shoes, I was desperate. The people here locally can’t help me and I have to have pointe shoes to dance on, so what am I going to do?
Then the fact that I’m 26. Would they judge me or treat me different? Were they expecting a 13 year old? would they just kinda give up on me, thinking I should know better and have all the answers? that seems to be a theme in my life. Then I was nervous about the fact that I don’t have a dancer’s body. I’m doing all I can to tone up and slim down, and I’ve come a long way, but with all my stomach issues and freaking injuries keeping me from doing what I need to outside of dance to lose the inches (and just as I’m starting to see results…) It’s been a slow process. I didn’t want the fears in my head to be confirmed and the voices I hear tearing me apart to become human form. I just want to dance. I just want to feel alive.
I walk in and meet Amanda (I think was her name?) who lead me to Jordan, the lady who I believe is the manager. She was the one that Dianne had sent me to and the one who would be handling everything.
I sat down.
“What shoes do you currently wear?”
“Currently, Grishko 2007s. But they caused me to roll my ankle, so.”
“What did you like and not like about them?”
“I love the box. It’s perfect. Best thing I’ve ever put on. But they seem to twist on my feet. And I had asked the lady who was fitting me about that and she said it was fine. But it’s not. Hence the rolled ankle. My foot is really wide, but only at the toe here. It’s kinda narrow in the back. My friend called it a Phantom heel, I think?”
“Can I see your feet?”
“Sure.”
I take off my shoes and socks and show her my gimpy feet, telling her about my tiny toes and how the San Antonio guy told me he had seen worse, but still had a heck of a time fitting me. I told her how I liked my Russians, but they just hurt so badly that I couldn’t do anything. I told her how I liked my Gaynors, but they weren’t tapered enough.
She walked to the back and was gone for several minutes. She comes back with her arms loaded with pointe shoes.

And when I took this picture, she was in the back getting even more pointe shoes. I decided I wanted this place to be my closet. She came back with another arm full, sat on the floor, then asked, 
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“A 9 1/2.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Man. You’re good.”
I tried on the Capezio Tiffany’s first, and I was amazed at how she was able to keep the different styles organized with so many shoes out. She explained how she could tell which shoe was which by the shape and color and other things. It was amazing. Side note, this is also when I managed to throw poop into the conversation. Really, don’t ask.
I tried on the Tiffany’s and liked them, but they shifted, which scared me. She explained the different reasons a shoe may shift, and the ways to figure out through, process of elimination, how to fix the issue. I was blown away.  
Then she brought out the Capezio Studios. She explained how they are a new shoe, and that typically you’re either made for this shoe and nothing else, or everything else but this shoe. She then explained how Capezio’s are typically made “broken in” but the studio’s weren’t. They had this crazy elastic instead of a drawstring and were definitely hard as rocks. Kind of like the Russians. She explained them as a Freed/Grishko hybrid. I named them “Frishko’s.” They weren’t bad, but they definitely weren’t my favorites. Weird, for sure, but a great concept. 
Then I tried on the Capezio Glisse’s. They felt alright, but I wasn’t sure if I preferred them over the Tiffany’s or not. 
She got a different size of the Tiffany’s so I could get a proper feel for which I preferred.  She asked how I felt in them and I told her they felt good, to which she responded, “These aren’t my favorite on you. I wouldn’t want you to have these shoes. Do you know why?” Of course, I didn’t. “Because I can see that your toes are crunching in your shoe. Not so much the right foot, but the left.
Side note: for some reason, my left big toe is crunchy. My right big toe will pointe like a dream, but my left crunches. I mentioned this to the San Antonio pointe shoe fitter, and they told me, “You’re going to have to get over it.” 
When she was able to identify that just by looking at me in the shoe for .2 seconds, I wanted to hug her, bless her, cry, and scream, “THANK YOU FOR ACTUALLY KNOWING WHAT THE HECK YOURE DOING AND TELLING ME WHAT I SHOULD AND SHOULDN’T FEEL BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA AND YOU ARE HELPING ME INSTEAD OF JUST GOING WITH WHAT I SAY. OH MY GOSH, THANK YOU.” all at the same time. It was a magical moment.
Then she had me try on the Capezio Aria’s. She told me if she were to look at my feet and know nothing about what I like and didn’t like, she would have put me in the Aria’s. She also told me that she didn’t think they would be right, but wanted to try them anyway. They were not my favorite, so we eliminated them and were down to the Tiffany’s or the Glisse’s.
“Here, try these on.”
“Which ones are these?”
“I’m not going to tell you. People can get caught up on a name, and I want you to throw that out the window and choose by what feels better.”
So I tried on the first one, went to the barre, stood in them, got a good feel. Then I put on the other ones, and stood at the barre. As soon as I did, I said, “These are the Tiffany’s, aren’t they?”
She asked how I could tell and I told her I could definitely feel the difference in the toe crunching in them. 
MIND BLOWN. MIND IS BLOWN.
Jordan was a definite game changer for my dance “career” if you want to call it that. I came in to this just after I turned 23 and was having to re-learn everything because the little experience I had was wrong. I had a supportive and wonderful studio, now I just needed someone open minded and kind hearted like that to fit me for pointe shoes. Everyone kept asking me, “How do they feel?” Without taking into consideration that I have no idea how they should feel and can’t really tell you. I wrote it off as just one of those things you have to figure out as you go, but man this is exhausting and I’m falling behind.
Jordan told me all about different toe pads and which ones are better for what different things. She showed me tricks to help the blister on my pinkie toe knuckle, and was even able to pick out leotards that had longer girths, despite their size listed, in 2.7 seconds. 
I was a very happy camper. 
I have always loved Capezio, and I am so happy to say they still haven’t disappointed me. I could forever sing their praises. It says a lot to me for such a big name company to care about the little people who will never make it big or go into a company or anything, and giving me just as much opportunity as anyone else. They treated me like a prima ballerina, and This is an experience I will never forget.

After we left Capezio, we went and found the graffiti park and took some pictures. (My friend Andie also does Irish Dance, so she brought her shoes to get some great pictures with.)
I do photography, and I shoot a lot of dancers, and one of the things that make the dancer feel the best is when a passerby comments on how cool that is, or a little kid is overheard saying, “Look, a pretty ballerina!” While we were there, I overheard people commenting, “Look at the ballerina!” and I caught junior high Homecoming kids putting me in the background of their pictures. (I was okay with it, of course.) And it was the first time I ever felt like a ballerina. So often I see myself as lesser than other dancers. I don’t feel like I measure up, I see how far behind I am, I see how far I have to go and all the places I fall short. But these people saw me standing there for the shot, and they saw a ballerina. They didn’t pick apart my technique, they didn’t say how I probably couldn’t do xyz, I didn’t hear one negative word. 
We moved up to a higher level, where there was flat ground and I did some pique turns. A girl walking by while I was turning said, “That was really pretty!” as she passed. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to hunt her down, get a picture with her, and hug her. Other people also walked by and commented on how cool it was or how good it looked. 
And at first, I didn’t think they were talking about me. Because all the other times I’ve heard it, they were talking about the dancer I was shooting. But this time, I was the dancer. 
I was the ballerina.
Rolled ankle and wonky shoes and all. 
I can’t explain how good that made me feel.
Thank you, kind strangers, for saying such nice things when you didn’t have to. It meant more than you’ll ever know.

We also found this really awesome ode to Nerdfighteria. The people we encountered in Austin definitely reduced world suck. And I was so glad to have a fellow Nerdfighter along with me. It was a pretty great moment.
(That’s just my feet while Kristin was shooting Andie. Because, why not?)
Then we met up with my dance friend, Annabelle. I met her at Instep when I first started dancing. She was one of the first people to speak to me there and got her pointe shoes a year before me. I took her senior pictures that November, and the rest is history. Now she is one of my main models when she’s in town and never disappoints. She’s also one of my dearest friends. I wish we could have stayed longer, but having the few hours with her did wonders for my soul.
Annabelle has this roommate she met last year whose name is Emily. We decided that we are clones (I mean, seriously, down to minute details) but had never met. Well, she got home right before we got back to their apartment, and so I got to meet her and OH MY GOSH IT WAS GREAT. I had called her when we first met up with Annabelle, but it went to voicemail. which is when I realized I had never heard her voice before. I left a ridiculous voicemail that was perfect. When Annabelle opened the door, we freaked out and hugged for practically forever. It was great. I felt like we had known each other for years.
That’s us, with Andie creepin’ like a pro.
Andie, Annabelle, Emily, and me. Such a happy hug of friends 🙂 
Then we drove back home that night, almost got hit by a mini cooper convertible with 3 guys in it. Those three guys ended up playing cat and mouse for the next 30 minutes til they exited, and it was hilarious.
Then we realized when we stopped at a gas station that I left my purse at Annabelle’s. We were an hour and a half home already and I wasn’t about to go back. I was thinking how Annabelle could use my card to pay for shipping to get it back to me, when I remembered that Leslie is coming down this week for our dance festival that is this weekend. (Win!) So we carried on and got home after 1am. 
Don’t mind how messy the foreground and background are, but this was all the FREE stuff I got from Capezio. Glisse pointe shoes, elastics, ribbons, (would have gotten toepads had I used the ones they had, but I didn’t, so that’s all good.) And that sweet Capezio cup! Any ballet dancer out there knows how much money that is that I just saved, but let me tell you, Capezio is a genius for it. As if they didn’t already have a lifetime advocate for their leotards that actually fit my long torso, they now have my infinite pointe shoe business. (unless there was something Jordan missed, which would surprise me. And which I would also just pay her another visit for her genius and get whatever shoes she thought were best.)
Words can not express my gratitude to Capezio. Seriously. To say this changed my life wouldn’t be an understatement. Now I’m just anxious for my ankle to heal so I can start wearing these puppies!
THANK YOU, CAPEZIO!!

ramblings

I was really hopeful that I would be able to make it through the entire class yesterday, but alas:

Stupid ankle.
It’s not that it was necessarily hurting, but about 10 minutes in to barre, it started doing this weird thing where I could feel it grinding or crunching or however you want to describe it.
I have noticed this in my foot before, and it makes me hecka nervous.
I just want to dance, but I also don’t want to screw myself over by pushing through when I shouldn’t, instead of resting it while I still have the luxury of resting it. Pushing it now could be detrimental come Nutcracker.
I’m just really frustrated, because I was looking forward to class yesterday.

(see sad face)

I don’t want to lose all the strength I’ve gained and I don’t want to fall behind everyone else. That’s what happened last year; I was out with an injury then an organ removal (Dramatic sounding, I know.) and missed all those conditioning classes.
I need those classes. They’re what I’ve been looking forward to.
I’m trying not to let myself get all anxious. Especially with everything going on in life right now, it’d be easy to get lost in it. But I don’t have the luxury of succumbing to that right now. I have to keep it together.
So, I spent the class watching the other girls; trying to glean any bit of knowledge I can to help me better grasp everything in hopes that I’ll be better equipped when I can dance again.
Maybe it’s a good thing.
I have the pointe shoe fitting tomorrow have I mentioned how nervous I am? so maybe it’s a good thing my ankle didn’t let me get back into my old shoes. I’m hopeful they’ll be able to finally show me a shoe that fits.
Gah, I’m freakin’ Cinderella over here. Except, instead of taking a shoe all around to find the girl it fits, we’re taking the girl all around to find the shoe that fits.
Anyway. Hopefully my foot heals up before too long. I’m glad to have such a great class at such a supportive studio.
Our insurance guy at work called and when I answered he told me about his 4-year-old daughter starting ballet classes at my same studio. It made me happy.

I am thankful to have the chance to get pictures at my new studio. I haven’t pressed it too much since I’m still trying to get a feel for the place, but I’ll take any opportunity I can get.
❤