Today I started my new fulltime course studying Dance. And now I hurt. Almost everyone there is younger than me, and they are all gorgeous and have danced since birth. I should probably mention that they're all lovely too, which means I really can't catch a break.
We began the day with a fitness class, and I was really proud of how I went, simply because I survived. We then moved on to classes in Lyrical and commercial Jazz, and I've never done either before. As hard as I tried, I couldn't master the awkward vulnerability they asked for in Lyrical, and accidently transferred it to Jazz instead, in which the required Sass was sorely lacking. While everyone else executed smooth floor work that looked like it belonged in a film clip, I was doing my best flipped turtle impression. Not for the first time in my life, I found myself wishing that at least my middle name was grace, so that I might actually have a chance of being graceful. If this is too big an ask, I would settle for the irony of the situation, as it might induce a bit of humour, rather than a train crash like fascination.
Despite the impression I'm giving, I really did enjoy today. Although my new acting teacher yelled something that at the time sounded like "boring!" as I gave my introduction, the staff all seem super friendly and I can't wait to go back tomorrow for ballet. *shudder* Maybe I'll surprise myself and turn out to be the next Swan Queen or something.
Other than that, the only mischief I managed today was slipping over on the washing I had laid out to dry on the floor. My tiles didn't really like the condensation, and neither did my butt.
Little Duck, out :)
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