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I think I’m in love with my ballet teacher.  (This could be a problem, since I’m pretty sure he’s pretty gay, but I don’t care.  I’m all good with the unrequited passion.  )  I’ve been building up an inferiority complex the last few months about my dancing, cemented by getting taped last Sunday (I really hate getting taped – all I can see is how awful I look).  Going into my ballet class I figured that I would probably love it, and, like most dancing stuff, it would also be a big exercise in humility.  I was a little heartened when, besides folding my thumb down for me, my prof didn’t really correct me at all the first day, but I was afraid this was because I was so awful no correction would help, not because I didn’t need it.

Then, yesterday, we were balancing en releve with arms in fifth (where you go up on your tip toes with your arms arched beautifully over your head, keeping your whole body straight and aligned beneath you, just like the jewelery box ballerina, and stay there until the teacher tells you that you can come back down).  The prof came up behind me, and I thought for sure he would be pushing my butt in or my head back or fixing my arm or something.  Instead he said, “This is very nice!” and asked me my name.  After class he asked where I had studied ballet before.  I told him that I’d had a few years at the Dayton Ballet when I was in grade school, where I quickly discovered that I did not have the body of a ballet dancer and never would.  “Oh!” he said, “But you have the soul of a ballet dancer!”  Then he complimented my “nice, straight back”  It was wonderful.  I think I floated all the way home.

Then I went to Bal Practice.  Long John was still being the jerk he was Sunday, and Pyro decided that since I’m dancing with him again he gets to diagnose everything that’s wrong with my dancing and then inform me of his diagnoses.  I think this was why I stopped dancing with him in the first place.  I did get to see Mai (she’s been out sick the past week), and I showed Baker the first thirty seconds of the Frida routine I’ve been trying to jack, so that stuff was good.  The rest was just all sweat and being way too warm and deciding to go home early. And the glow was gone.