One Year Ago...

I was preparing for my first semester of graduate school.

I was terrified. Terrified I wouldn't be good enough. Terrified to move to utah. Terrified of living in an apartment smaller than our last one. You know- its funny. Not a whole lot has actually changed. I still have days where I feel like the worst dancer ever. I still get super annoyed by lame utah drivers. And sometimes I have to go outside because our apartment is just too suffocatingly small (though impeccably decorated).

I finished my first year of grad school wednesday friends. It probably doesn't sound like a big deal, but I'm so proud of myself. Meetings with a few of my professors reminded me of how much has changed since I entered the department of modern dance. My technique. Views on certain ideologies. My appearance (remember how I had a pixie cut last summer?).

me. 

I've changed. 

You know though- everyone changes. I still would be a different person than I was last year regardless if I was dancing my rear off every day. I guess I'm just really happy to be where I am right now- my life is sorta awesome.

Summer is almost here friends. 

I can't wait to put my sundresses and flip flops on and bask in its glory.

Happy Friday, Friends!

Dance Log 23

This past friday the program had auditions for next years graduate students. As we spent the day with the auditioners, I couldn't help feeling this weird nostalgia. I can't believe it was almost a year ago that I went through the graduate auditions. (I say "almost", because each year they hold two auditions- one in february and one in march. Mine were in march.) Yeesh, I remember hours in the studio agonizing over tiny moments of my audition piece. I remember thinking I should loose weight. I remember Gideon editing my letter of intent; thank goodness he did. He's so much better at writing than I. I remember getting so much support with letters of recommendation. First Jennifer's. Then Wendy's. Gary's came last; he even included extra copies for me. I still keep them in my night stand so when I feel like I'm a really crap dancer I can look at them and try to feel better about myself.  People who changed my life profoundly were so eager to help me move forward in my pursuit of studying dance. And the support I was given when I received my acceptance letter? Unbelievable. I can't believe it was a year ago.

Did I mention that Gid and I were able to go down to BYU Idaho to set some choreography on Dance Alliance, friends? Incredible to be back on campus again. Gid even took his dancers to work in the Kirkham. Lucky ducks. My dancers are unbelievably stunning. I hate to admit it (actually, I love to admit it), but the touring company gets better and better each season. Gid and I were so lucky to be able to spend our undergraduate years participating in the dance department. This April, it'll be three years since we got to go to russia on tour with Dance Alliance. Isn't that crazy?

Realizing that it's almost been a year has created (I hope) a sort of surge of optimism and confidence in myself. I keep thinking things like, "If I made it this far, who's to say I won't make it all three years?" I actually haven't seriously considered quitting grad school or anything, but I often find myself feeling unbelievably confused about what I'm doing with my life. I could've sworn yesterday we were being placed into levels for technique, but then again- I could have sworn just yesterday we were setting the first piece of my final year on dance alliance. How is it that time becomes so muddled? Can you imagine what a basket case I'll be when we have kids? (shudder) What a frightening thought.

My point is-- (...what was my point again??) Hmmm. I guess my point is, I can do it. If I could get through that exhausting audition without passing out, and be accepted into an institution that isn't afraid to push me to my physical, emotional and intellectual limits, I can not only complete this program, but I can finish it a better dancer than when I entered.

...I guess that's what my point is. 

(oh, and best of luck to all of the auditioners. You were nothing less than stunning.)

Happy sunday to you all, sweet friends.

Dance Log 22

Found my leotards: check.

Breakout of pimples due to stress: check.

Day One of Grad School: check.

It's starting to feel real, friends. 

I love it so much already.

Have a happy Monday.

Dance Log 20

This is ever so belated friends, but I knew some of you would be interested in our final showcase for the Repertory Choreography class this last semester. I hoped to have more dances available to watch, but unfortunately our little digital camera ran out of battery. Tactile Sensations was a pretty fun little production to be apart of.

What talented dancers and choreographers! 

(Especially for a university that only offers a dance minor.)

I was able to be in 5 of the 13 numbers in our show which was super fun. I was really sweaty and tired. I wish I could post all of the dances, because they were all very interesting and unique, but some of the only ones Gideon was able to completely tape were the following. I hope you enjoy them, friends.

Into the Kiln

Dancers: Kelly Saunders, Colette Miller, Alyssa Tolman

I really loved choreographing this piece. Both of these clips were dress rehearsal, so the lighting is pretty off and some of the dancing and sound isn't exactly what it should be, but I'm still proud to call it my own. These dancers are serious rockstars.

Never Again (Solo)

I feel really really lucky that I was able to do a solo piece during the show. As mentioned before this was dress rehearsal, so lets pretend I don't stumble around about halfway through the dance, ok? Thanks. I fell in love with this music earlier in the semester and tried to create movement that reflected my interpretation of it. Very very grateful for the opportunity to perform this one.

Isn't it crazy that the semester is over? Furthermore, isn't it crazy that summer is practically here? (Although, it was strange to go from sunny texas to flying over snow covered mountains in idaho...) FurtherMOST, isn't it super crazy that I'm weeks away from moving to Salt Lake and starting in on a Masters program that up till March 22 was only a dream of mine? (No, literally, I had dreams about the program that convinced me to actually audition again.) Isn't it crazy? Cue crazy music. Today I got an email giving me instructions on how to register for my first semester of GRADUATE school. I guess that means I really got in; it wasn't just some freak mistake that they sent me an acceptance letter.

It's mad, mad I say! 

(I said that with a Harry Potter British accent. Not just british. Harry Potter British. There's a difference.)

Thats all for today friends. Happy Dancing!

Dance Log 19

So tired, friends. 

Fact: when I'm not in the office, I'm in the dance studio. 

I've had late night rehearsals for the past several weeks, and it's just starting to really get to me. I shouldn't complain right? I mean, compared to a graduate program, this literally is nothing. But I'm so tired. Today and Thursday are our final presentations for our choreography assignment which is what we'll be performing in the showcase next week. I'm super excited; the last time I performed onstage was Russia (not including the time Gideon proposed to me while onstage). I'm pretty sure my piece is going to be the weirdest one in the whole show. I guess wierdness is in the eye of the beholder, but if the piece goes as well as it does in my head it'll be the most beautiful wierd you've ever seen. 

Actually, now that I think of it, my piece might be average as far as weirdness goes. 

It will be a very interesting show; a lot of variety. I can't wait. There's nothing like the moment just before you leave backstage and enter the spotlight. This show won't have as many people as the other shows I've been able to experience. There won't be a full auditorium and a complete set of performance equipment and lights. There aren't any extravagant costumes. There won't even be a real curtain. But I can't wait. And that excitement only confirms my confidence that entering into a graduate program is the right decision for me. 

I've had second thoughts several times; but then again, they're not second thoughts as much as fear speaking through rationalizations. I keep thinking about the most trivial things: my arches aren't pretty enough, I'm not experienced enough, I'm not thin enough (which ps easter did not help with. Is it possible to have a hangover from jelly beans chocolate eggs and peeps?). The list goes on and on. But the fact is, it's my choice to do this. I've been given the opportunity, and I can't let it slip through my fingers regardless of how many easter colored candies I've eaten in the past 42 hours. I'm doing it. And I can't wait.

So. Back to the show. We were going to call it, "Wild Women", or "Hussy It Up", (not because there's any promiscuity, but because dancers have a strange sense of humor), but in the end we've decided to title our show "Tactile Sensations". It will be held in the Peterson Theater in the Morrison Center on BSU's campus. We're having our dress rehearsal on the 5th of May, and our shows are going to be on the 6th and 7th which are a Friday and Saturday. Saturday has a matinee. For those of you who are interested, feel free to message me, or call. I do want to be sure to emphasize that this isn't a professional performance; it's very much just a showcase of our class. But if anyone is interested, we'd absolutely love to have you.

Happy Tuesday,

Dance Log 18

I apologize (again) for my lack of keeping up to date. I have a few close friends who have actually expressed concern of my lack of activity. Don't worry, I've just been super busy lately. What am I busy with? You guessed it: dancing. I'm only taking two classes a week right now and I feel like I have too much to do. How did I ever take 7 hours of dancing in one day?! Of course, I also have a full time job and am supposed to do grocery shopping and on occasion make something to eat for my sweet husband and myself.... I guess.

Right now I'm in the middle of a choreography project for a show that's coming up in a few months! This week I have to have 1/2 of my piece ready to show, and I'm in a rush to get it done. It's been over two years since I've performed anything on stage and I'm so excited about it, friends! There's a chance that this could be my last dance performance ever which brings the corners of my mouth unattractively low, but I feel so blessed to be able to be a part of the production. Especially after watching the most recent Extravadance which was nothing short of phenomenal. Seriously. Such a great show. I'm thinking about buying the dvd, and I've never done that for a show that I'm not in (which is really saying something since I'm a really stingy person when it comes to paying for stuff).

For our upcoming show, I've been able to choreograph a dance of my own, and I've been invited to dance in the works of three other pieces (which I'm really excited about as well). Can't wait for it. I have marley burns all over my feet and I just love them so much. If you're in the boise area, I'd love to give you information on the show so you can come watch some truly beautiful pieces.


Have a lovely Tuesday, friends.

Dance Log 17

The other day, as I was going through my ballet stuff, I glanced at my pink tights and slippers.

I love ballet and all. But goodness.

How I love modern dance.

I know what you're thinking: "that's all?!"

yup. it is.

Happy Thursday, Friends.

Dance Log 16

Gosh, it's been so good to dance the past few weeks! For those of you who don't know what I'm taking, let me tell you (ahem...). On Tuesdays and Thursdays I take a choreography and improvisation class called Rep that is FABulous. It's so fun to watch my classmates and the cool things they come up with. On Monday and Wednesday evenings I'm taking an advanced modern technique class. It's the bomb.

Like-

 THE bomb.

It's so fun. Hard to describe... it's like eating shaved ice for the first time after a very very long, cold winter. The sun is finally out, and you get to bite into the delicately soft, smooth, icy treat.

That's what my modern class is.

delicious, don't you think?

So the last assignment in my REP class was to create a choreography piece that took up all corners of the room and described several adjectives. Our teacher gave us a list, and there were some really interesting pieces that came from it. Something really important to me (especially right now) is developing the creative side of my brain. The only problem is that I feel like that side of me has been asleep for the last two years.

I'm like, "ok brain, time to get some kickin' choreography going!"

Then my brain is like, "...I'm sleeping, and not ready to wake up. Try again next week. Zzzzz....."

Then I'm like, "no, really brain- I need you to wake up, and give me something phenomenal."

Then my brain is like, "You know what sounds really good? Ice cream."

Then I'm like, "dang you."

And that's basically how it's been going with my creative side lately. I know I'm just a little out of practice; and soon enough it'll all kick in and I'll be back to creating interesting work. It's just hard being patient, you know? You know what though; I hardly have any time to be impatient because I'm spending all of my time being ecstatic that I get to wear leotards again. I know what you're all thinking: "If you're wearing leotards alot, maybe you should tell your inner brain to stop craving ice cream. And maybe you should compare things you love to snow cones that are 110% sugar." That's what you were thinking, wasn't it?  No? That was just me? Ok.

Happy Wednesday, Friends.

Dance Log 15

Auuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh!!!

(melodious noises.....)

Ahh.

Dance began this week again, friends. 

This semester I'm taking two courses: one is called Repertory Dance Theater; it's all about choreography and improvisation. Already in love with it- I love using the creative side of my brain. Tomorrow we have our first choreography assignment, and I've got some sa-weet moves up my sleeve.

My other class is a modern technique class. I can't contain my excitement about this class- it's got everything that I love. Only problem: it's only 50 minutes long! I'm not sure how I'm going to do it, but I'm going to make every second count in this class. Since today was the first class, we sat around and made introductions for over 1/2 of the class, and then finished with a few exercises and across the floor combinations. 

Oh heavens.

 It felt so good to dance. I know what you're thinking: "Alyssa, you took that ballet class just a few weeks ago!" 

That was ballet. 

This is modern. 

Big difference. 

It was such a release. Merciful heavens, I loved it so much! It made me long for my beloved dance alliance; made me miss the byu idaho dance department more than I have in a while, but goodness, I just loved it so much. My classmates seem pretty much really awesome and down to earth which makes me all the more excited to learn with them. So far- SO good, friends! Can't wait to tell you more.

Dance Log 14

Today was bittersweet.

It was the last day of class, and just as I anticipated I was full of sentimental emotions.

I kept thinking things like, "I absolutely hate this barre exercise and this is the last time I get to do it." There was one part of class when I thought, "I sure won't miss feeling this awkward doing this arabesque." Then I thought, "Actually, I hope I get the opportunity to feel awkward in an arabesque someday in the near future."

By the end of class, I was out of breath, and trying to calm my furiously beating heart. Our 'final' was basically boot camp with pink tights. I think our teacher wanted us to remember her. By the end, I was exhausted, but a little sad. Just as we were out the door, one of the dancers from a professional company in town came in and started warming up. Her movement was unmistakeably modern, and I inwardly beamed as I thought about how in just a few weeks I'll be in a contemporary class.

 (sigh)

I can not wait.

For me, dance is like a feast. Ballet is like a lovely appetizer; something fancy and expensive. Hors d'oeuvres are lovely, and I enjoy them as much as the next person, but I'm also looking forward to the entrees to come. Contemporary movement is my main course. The most delicious one you can imagine. Choreography is the fine dessert, and improvisation is the drizzling topping.

Are you guys thinking, "For a girl who just took ballet, you're sure talking a lot about food"?

Maybe I like food more than a ballerina should,
but I'm forever grateful for the last months of class.

I'm grateful for the patient reminders from my instructor. I'm grateful for the lovely swans who have been mesmerising examples to me. I'm so very grateful for a husband who allows me to take ballet, even though we're poor newlyweds, and me taking ballet costs us money.

As I was walking out of the morrison center today, I had a flash back to the  first day of class. A lot has changed since then. The tree leaves so crisp and red on the first day have been replaced by a thin layer of ice and snow, and the sky is the most delicious shade of gray with a sprinkle of deep blue here and there. Since the first day my hair is over 16 inches shorter, and I must wear warm boots instead of flats. The beautiful girls who terrified me in class know my name and give me friendly smiles when I run into them on campus or at dance events. My instructor smiles brightly at me, and encourages me to pursue more dance education from her. (At the beginning of the semester I'd of thought she'd be delighted to get rid of me.) I've learned countless new things about classical technique, and slowly but surely, I think I'm getting better.

So much can change in a semester of ballet.

Thanks for your much needed support and love cherished readers.
I'm so blessed to have such lovely friends.
This is the end of my dance log.



Until class starts again.


(dramatic music)
"Introducing...

Dance Log: The Modern Series!

Are you sick of me yet? No?! How about now? Ok.

Night.

Happy Thursday Friends,

Dance Log 13

(sniffle)

So Gid and I spent the past several days in Las Vegas for a business conference he had for the Western Governors Association. Have I mentioned my husband has a real job and it confuses me? He's like, "Hey honey, I have a business conference in Vegas. Want to come?" And then I'm like, "What's a business conference?" 

(sniffle)

{...you guys get that my sniffles are from a runny nose and not  from monthy girlish emotions, right?}



I've been feeling under the weather, and I just can't seem to get over it. Don't you hate that? I hate having the sniffles for more than 72 hours. It just seems unfair. Especially if you're on 'vacation'. Anyway, in dance today I was really hoping to be just

sen-SA-tional,

because technically it's our last day of class, and I like to finish on a happy note.

(sniffle sniffle)

Let it be known that I have a difficult time containing the contents of my nose when it is running.

Especially when I'm on the "draining" phase of a cold.

Especially when I'm on the draining phase of a cold and I'm pirouetting.

Not pretty. Not pretty at all. I was focusing so much on sniffing in enough pressure to keep the runniness in, that my dancing just seemed to be off. Not horrible, just not great; and I wanted to be great today. Knowing that today was our last day made me a pouty. Not the cute kind of pouty. The whiny kind. Which is unattractive. Wow- lots of different tangents today. I must be in major need of beef. Anyway, I was feeling whiny, when my teacher announced that the final will be taken next Thursday. Now, since I'm auditing this class (which means I'm paying for it, but not taking it for a grade since I've already gotten a degree and two minors) I don't actually need to show up to the real last day of class. But I'm allowed to. When my teacher revealed this information at the end of class, I cheered up.

One more chance to be the best ballerina I can be. At least for now.

Happy Thursday Friends,

Dance Log 12

Thanksgiving was basically the best ever.

I have the best parents ever.

The best family ever.

The cutest nephew ever. 

The best home ever.

the best husband ever.

So very much to be grateful for.

I don't know how in the heck I got so stinking lucky.

 Seriously- I'm so lucky it gets stinky sometimes.

Now on to dance.

This morning I woke up to snow. Normally I'd groan at the prospect of putting on tights and a leotard when the weather is like this, but I basically leaped into them this morning. It's been over a week since my class, and I couldn't wait for it!

I put on tights.

Then leggings.

Then pants.

Then sweats. 

A tank top.

Then a jacket.

Then another jacket. 

Then a scarf. 

Then a beanie

 (or a toque as my Canadian friends would say). 

Then socks.

Then boots.

Needless to say, I was very thickly layered.

As I walked to my car, I slipped on some ice, and basically bounced off of my layers and back to my feet. I didn't even feel anything. Good start to my day.

It was obvious in class that I my technique was a little dusty, but as always I prevailed. Wow. Overconfident much? What can I say- I've been blessed with an overwhelming amount of humility.

One huge plus in class is that since I've gotten my hair cut, I never have to mess with it. I can't stand having hair in my face when I dance, and with a pixie cut, I am happy to announce that it's the best ever. So that was nice. It was also nice of the dance theater company members to all make sweet comments about my new head of hair. Girls love compliments. 

Then it happened: that point in class where my teacher tells us to do something that I've never heard of before. It's french and weird. I've never heard it or (more importantly) seen it before. I hate it when that happens. And then my instructor looks at me like I should have known this at birth, and now I'm supposed to lead the class in the combination.

Usually when these "special" combinations come, I try to wing it, and fail miserably.

(insert sad dancer picture)

Not today. I didn't do anything perfect (as I'm sure you all knew already), but I did a pretty sweet job. My teacher even made a comment about how I did it well.  I was on top of the moon. By the end of class, I was giving myself metaphysical high fives back and forth. I rocked that final combination.

Anyway, I'm just happy to be dancing again. I love thanksgiving, and you can bet your boots I'll be posting some pictures of my cute nephew and writing more about the Texas festivities gid and I enjoyed, but right now I'm just happy to be in freezing snowy Idaho. It's not my hometown, but for now-it's home.

such a good dance day.

happy Tuesday.
xoxo



Dance Log 11

wow.

I mean wow.

I must give photo credit today to the ballerina project and also to the lovely Stephanie Patterson who introduced me to the photos in the first place.

(Stephanie, by the way, was the photographer for our wedding and has some major crazy talent. Check. Her. Out.) 

Ballet today was rough, and not just because I had a dream that Gideon tried to sell me on craigslist last night. When I stepped into class, I found that we had company. Professional company. Sitting in the center of the floor with long graceful legs, and a perfectly sculpted frame was the most gorgeous girl I think I've ever seen. I recognised her from a Trey McIntyre Project performance I saw over a year ago. She's that stunning. Turned out that the professional company is on a holiday break and our visitor was interested in taking some classes in the meantime. Oh snap, right? I knew my teacher was good.

It was very humbling and motivational to take class with such talent. It pushed me. Not that I thought in some parallel universe I could compare to the prima, but it made me want to try to be more like her. Longer. More graceful. Less dorky. Like I said, it was humbling and motivational. More humbling than motivational. By the end of the class I discovered a sweat spot on my leotard around the midsection. That's how you know I've really been worked: belly button sweat. Seriously. By the time I stumbled into the office, I was completely deflated. My bosses (I have two of them) asked me how class went, and I dramatically declared that I was the worst ballerina on the face of the planet and I was going to dedicate a life of eating marshmallows, since there was no way I would ever be as thin as what I imagine ballerinas look like. One of the docs said, "Nonsense! You're just lovely. In fact, I think you should be doing So You Think You Can Dance." The other quickly replied, "I would send in a text to vote for you. Maybe two." For him, that's really saying something.

Basically, it made my day. I have the best bosses ever.

I'm just feeling grateful.
Grateful for a healthy body that can dance.
Grateful for the incredible learning opportunities that surround me.
So Grateful for Gid. (That's catchy. I'm going to write a song.)
Grateful for family.

Just grateful.

Happy Tuesday, Friends.
xoxo



Dance Log 10



Note to self: don't eat slosh for dinner, 

then a single oreo for breakfast, and expect to be able to perform in a ballet class.

Yeesh.

So, Gideon has alot of late nights, and when I'm by myself, I often nourish and fill my body as though it was a snack machine. And when I'm lonely, it's worse. I replace snuggles with junk food. For instance, last night: fruit snacks, Better Cheddars, white chocolate covered oreos, and popcorn as I watched Toy Story 3. Oh, and a glass of strawberry milk. I almost died. Especially in ballet this morning, but even now in the office, my stomach is still paying the price for a mindless 2 hours last night. And I had no one to blame but myself! My poor body had such awful nutrition; it would have been better if I wouldn't have eaten anything at all.

During class I had to fight to keep up when I normally am just fine. I tried to look like my heart wasn't beating ouside my chest, and I think I fooled everyone except my teacher. She looked at me a few times like she wasn't sure whether she should be concerned or chuckle. You can bet your ballet slippers that I'm planning on eating a well balanced breakfast before class next time.

Lesson learned: don't be a moron.
Especially when it comes to nourishing your body.
Especially if you hope to be extraordinary.

That is all.

Happy Tuesday, friends.
xoxo

Dance Log 9

I love ballet, but I've gotta say something:

the pink tights are starting to really get to me.

Today I couldn't stop staring at myself, and not in a good way.

 Are pink tights flattering on anyone?

 (I'm going to go ahead and request that all the men who are dying to make a

sarcastic comment keep their thoughts to themselves.)

I love watching ballerinas in their pink tights, black leotards,
tutus, and pointe shoes.

I simply must make a comment about this being one of the most gorgeous paintings ever.

Don't you agree?

I love watching those stunning girls in pink tights and tutus. I just don't like wearing those things. I feel like a clumsy elephant. A clumsy elephant in pink tights and a strappy leotard. Eating a doughnut. I wish I had a doughnut right now. Ok. Moving on.

Some of you may be wondering when I'll stop writing my dance logs (some of you probably also wonder why I always get on off subject tangents about food). Well, my ballet class is a little more than 1/2 over (and I tangent about food when my stomach is growling). I feel like I learn more every day in ballet, even though sometimes it's really frustrating. 

This isn't the end of dance for alyssa though.

 I just registered for two

new dance classes for next semester!!

The first is an advanced modern technique class (insert hallelujah chorus). The second is a choreography class. I'm so excited to use that creative part of my brain again, and I feel so blessed to have a husband who is so willing to let me have this outlet. Today in ballet I had a hard time, because I kept thinking about how excited I am to do modern again. I zoned out thinking about it a few times and screwed up several barre exercises.

Oops. 

On a higher note, as we were leaping across the floor, my teacher stopped me and said, "where did you come from? I didn't know you could leap like that." Coming from my teacher, that's a pretty huge compliment. I should have been more excited about it, but I was too busy thinking about modern dance class. I can't wait, friends. In modern class you don't have to wear pink tights. And you get to breathe. And you do moves that aren't always pretty. I love ballet. And really when it comes down to it, I believe ballet is the foundation of technique. But oh, I can't wait to take a modern class.

Happy Tuesday, friends.

xoxo

Dance Log 8

I've been postponing writing about dance (as I know several of you have noticed), because I've been feeling super poopy about it lately. I go to class, sweat, and then pout on the way to my car because I feel like I didn't do as good as I could've done. I'm such a pooper.

And who wants to write about that on a regular basis? 

... who wants to read about that on a regular basis?

 Not me. And I'm guessing not you. 

Thus, I've been procrastinating.

I'm glad we talked about this.

 Today it rained on me all the way walking to class. My feet were wet. My hair was wet. My nose was cold, and I had this make up song stuck in my head with a repeating line of, "I hate ballet, ballet, ballet. I hate ballet in the cold. It was pretty catchy.

And you guessed it: poopy.

When I walked into the class, I peeled off my wet outerwear and sat down on the cold floor as I put on my socks and massaged my feet in preparation for the torture they were about to encounter.

As I began my stretches, I noticed some unfamiliar faces. Visitors? No. They were wearing tights. Class began and "the others" shyly found spots in the barre. I thought there would be some introduction; something to explain why half way through the semester we suddenly had 3 extra people in our class, but there was nothing.

Our warm up exercises went unexpectedly well. I felt like a rock star, and noticed our teacher watching me with a "you're not actually too bad" look on her face. One of the newbies who was standing closely to me asked me questions in between exercises, and to my great surprise, I knew most of the answers. Hello neuromuscular alyssa! Where have you been the last three months? Our warm ups were over, and it was time to do our exercises at the center. I followed our fearless teacher and tried my best not to cheat or mark the exercises. I've made a goal to do everything full out. It's harder than I thought it would be. Then I heard something completely unexpected.

One of the new girls standing beside another new girl watched a few of us do the combination in a group, and I heard her whisper, "Alyssa looks like a swan. Look how smooth she moves." Ok. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Didn't you say earlier in your dance logs that there are three alyssas in your ballet class?? Maybe new girl was referring to one of the other alyssas." Trust me, I thought the same thing. But, today was the first and only day that I was the only alyssa to attend class. And our teacher made a few comments and called me by name. New girl was definitely talking about me.

It just made me feel so good. I know I'm such a yo-yo when it comes to this stuff, and I'm sure you guys are just sick of hearing about me having a good day, then a bad day, then a horrible day, etc. It must get pretty annoying, and I don't blame you if you grab a puke bucket every time you see that I've posted a dancelog.

But her comment really really made me feel good. I remember my first day in class; how uncomfortable I felt, how inferior to the other dancers (who I referred to as swans, if you remember). Today, someone thought I looked like a swan. Me. The puppy splashing the swans. And it just made me feel really good. Even if I know I'm still a far cry from the level of the other 1/2 of the girls in my class. The rest of our exercises, I tried my very best to live up to the compliment, and I had just a lovely class period.

It's interesting. When I started dancing in college, I hated it. I felt like I was the worst dancer ever, and I hated being bad. Throughout the following four years, I worked my way up to feeling like dance was the most fulfilling thing ever, and I didn't know what to do without my company. I felt like I was valuable, even a leader in the company. Then I graduated. A year passed. Then another 6 months. And when I started this ballet class, it was like starting dance all over again. I felt like I was the worst dancer ever. And I hated being bad. But that's how it's always going to be. You work your way up, and then find yourself at the bottom again. Cliche as it is, it's not about the destination. It's about the journey. And I feel like my journey is getting back on the happy road. And yo-yo, as I am, I'm excited again.

And I really really really hope my next dance log is this positive.

Happy Tuesday, lovely friends.

Dance Log 7

Feeling extra tired this lovely autumn morning.



Put on some socks and a cutoff t shirt.



Threw on a leotard.



Low motivation.



Low energy.






But, hey! I went.
And I had a pretty good day, actually.

Dance Log 6

Wanna hear about my morning yesterday?

Well, you're gonna.

(Unless, of course, you decide to close out of this

page immediately which is your absolute right.)

I didn't tell you guys, but a few weeks ago I was pulled over for going a whopping 27 miles an hour. I got a verbal warning, and a compliment on the cleanliness of my car. However, since I failed to have my proof of insurance with me, the officer also give me a nice little $130 ticket that I could have waived by going to city hall and providing a proof of insurance (which is great, because that's just what I need right now: another thing on my to do list). I went through the time frame I'd have to get my terrible Tuesday taken care of.

City Hall Opens at 8:00 am.

My institute class starts at 8:30 am.

My ballet class starts at 9:15 am.

I decided to be to city hall no later than 8:02, get my ticket waived by 8:15, get back home by 8:20, get into my leotard and tights (with normal clothes on top) by 8:25, and rush rush rush into my class by 8:30. I knew it would be a close call, but
I had ultimate faith in my mad skills.

It was a brisk, chilly morning; the kind of morning that makes me want to put wool socks on, and stay in bed all day reading Russian literature and eating homemade soup. When I got to city hall at 8:02, and saw the line of people waiting to get through security (security?!), I knew it was going to be tougher than I thought to pull this day off. I waited, waited, and finally around 8:12 my number was called to see a specialist to help me get my ticket waived. Determined to use polite manners and grace to my advantage, I smiled and explained my situation to the lady sitting at the desk. She, smiling back, complimented me on my scarf, and got right to work getting my ticket taken care of. It took her less than a minute. I wished her a lovely day, and ran to my car (after getting lost and not being able to find the exit). It was drizzling, and about 8:18 at this point, but I hit all green lights and sped home. Lucky I didn't get another ticket for real this time. I threw on my black tights, leotard, shorts, a button up shirt, pulled on some sweater boots, and without stopping for air, got back into the car (now it was pouring rain), and sped (again with the speeding?!) to institute. My eyes flashed to the clock as I parked. It was 8:28, but it's about a 5 minute walk  from the lot they have us park in to the institute building. So. I ran. I ran, in ballet tights, shorts, a button up, and crazy hair in the pouring rain to my institute class. You know- like a mad woman. As my teacher was just about to ask who would like to give the opening prayer, I stumbled in.

Victory. I had done it. I had actually accomplished the impossible. I looked like an idiot, yes. But I had done it, and that was all that mattered. As I finished the prayer my euphoria faded as I remembered one small important detail: I had forgotten my ballet slippers.

Have I mentioned that our ballet teacher has a strict no dancing without socks or ballet slippers policy?

Well, she does.

Disappointment. 
I decided I had two choices:

One- take a deep breath- hold back frustrated tears- go back into the pouring rain- rush home- grab my slippers-get back in the car-return in time for my ballet class. I would certainly miss my religion class.

-or-

Two-laugh at the ironic and hectic morning I had-accept the inevitable disappointment of forgetting the smallest, yet most essential part of my ballet attire- stay the entire duration of my religion class (for the first time this semester), and learn not only about religion, but about not beating myself up over a silly mistake that was due to a ca-razy morning.

I chose the latter.

I know. You're all thinking, "Alyssa, you coward! You should have gone to ballet! You just pretended to "forget" your shoes, so you wouldn't have to do that awful battement combination again!!"

Wait- maybe that's not you- maybe that's just my pessimistic side trying to make me feel guilty, or just plain bad about myself. Either way, that's not true.

I really really missed ballet yesterday. Which actually surprised me, and taught me a completely unexpected lesson (hence the dance log entry). Not only can I do hard things, I can learn from them. Not only can I learn from them, I can learn to look forward to learning from them, and eventually, I can learn to love them.

I can learn to love them so much, that even though they are hard, and uncomfortable, I'm disappointed when I miss them. Thursday is tomorrow, and I've already got my slippers (and an extra pair of socks just in case) waiting in the car. I'm determined to never even be tempted to miss class again; because I have- and I was sad that whole day, missing the voice of my teacher correcting my arms, and watching my lovely peer dancer friends gracefully sway from corner to corner. I think this lesson has been very educational. Not despite the fact that I didn't enter the studio at all, but because of it.

Maybe it's silly for me to write a dance log post about a day where I did no dancing, but I learned quite alot. And that is all.

Happy Wednesday.

Dance Log 5

Announcement!

I almost skipped Thursday's class for several reasons:

1- I couldn't find anything clean to put on my feet, and there is a strict "no bare skin touching the floor" policy.

2- I've been feeling under the weather lately.

3- I've been feeling tight in the leotard lately. 

(Yes. I'm insinuating that I've been eating too many biscuits.)

Eventually, I grabbed a pair a dirty socks (being washed even as we speak), then, taking a deep breath, got my leotard and tights on, and went to ballet. And do you know what happened??

My teacher told me that my arms had improved greatly.

Then afterwards she said, "well, that one is still flailing about, but your left on is ok, I suppose."

Then, while we were doing combinations across the floor, my teacher was yelling at me, following behind closely while I danced. The third time I went, she stopped half way across the floor, and then in a (could it be?) pleasant shout, she exclaimed, "Yes, you're doing it, alyssa! You're doing it well!" The second sentence seemed more like a question than a statement, but then she repeated it in a more confident tone, "You're doing it well!"

You guys, I'm getting better!!!

The group who went after me (all swans, of course), gracefully did the combination with ultimate ease, but it didn't keep me from beaming. I tried to pretend to not be totally proud of myself, but I think the whispers of encouragement to myself, and the patting of my own back probably gave it away. Oh well. It was worth being excited about.  

My teacher thought I did something well. 

I'm so glad I didn't let a pair of dirty socks keep me from kicking some serious tutu today.

Dance Log 4

Today was the first day I actually considered leaving early.

I'm not sure if any of you readers are gymnasts, but for those of you who are, you know those days when you can't stay on the beam to save your life? It has nothing to do with that time of the month, or who you are or aren't dating, it's just this weird thing that sometimes happens. Our coach would be like, "ok, since you're having an "off beam" day, let's send you to conditioning instead."

Today was an "off ballet" day. 

I just couldn't stay on. The combinations (which were actually really simple) were throwing me off like crazy, and I kept thinking that a root beer float sounded a lot better than adagios. No wonder I'm so skinny. At one point, we were all crowded in the corner, and I actually almost grabbed my stuff and snuck out the door. I somehow managed to stay during the entire class (plus five minutes after because my teacher wasn't satisfied with our final combination).

During hard days like this, I have to remember two very important things:
a) Fortitude builds character (as I learned from Calvin and Hobbes growing up)
b) I can do hard things. No really, I can.

No. Really.

No, Alyssa.
I really really can.

Let's all tell ourselves that when we want to bail out (with a root beer float nonetheless) from something containing an ounce of self control, ok friends? Ok.

Happy Tuesday.




ps- I should mention something, friends. Although today was an off day, it's also the first day in a long time that I've started really re-considering auditioning for grad school again.

So I guess it wasn't too much of an off day. Right?