Ballet Rocket, Empty Pocket

I'm hooked. I don't know what it was about this time around, but I'm absolutely besotted with dance! Not just ballet, just anything that involves me flailing across a room! Maybe it's all those years being cooped up in a tiny apartment and getting to flop all over a big empty studio. So much spaaaaaace! 

Anyway, I still haven't quite figured out how to take pictures in my dance class without disturbing the flow of the lesson or missing out on quality instruction time. I mean, hello, I'm totally paying for these aching inner thighs here. I don't want to miss a minute!

I went to class twice a week for the past couple of weeks, and I'd certainly like to keep it up, but my lovely nuptials are approaching, so I'm afraid I'll have to refrain from any big spending. Such a shame, too! So many pretty leotards and tights and whatnot. 

I've been eyeballing like a fair few leos for a few weeks, and it's taking every ounce of might in me not to add to cart (my wish list is getting pretty long, though). Oh, if I were already married, I could just buy the pretty little stretchy things!

Speaking of pretty little stretchy things, I saw two dance students going into the lines theatre this morning. That was so fun to see. I thought how lucky they are: they're on their way in to dance ALL DAY! Oh to dream! 

Anyway, what's up with hobbies man? It's like, the second you step off the treadmill, your pocketbook will be compromised. I'm definitely picking and choosing as in - Happy Hour? Skip. Dance class? GO! 

I'm keen to advance and learn more so that I can take a wider variety of classes. I feel like I'm still learning about my body and how it corresponds to the world, how I hear music, and where my body goes when I just let it be -- apparently, turning is not my strong suit. 

I've noticed that I'm paying a lot more attention to the NYT's Arts section than before. It's funny, just when I was wishing to see more coverage about narrative ballets, they run a story on Twyla Tharp putting on The Princess and the Goblin for the Atlanta Ballet Theatre. Seems like a good excuse to visit my siblings - and squeeze in some ballet watching. 

I was trying to nudge my dad into letting my kid brother dance. Something I can't put my finger on tells me he'd like it. Probably a lot. Maybe I'll write him a letter and ask about it. 

Bonding!