whimsical....
So...when I didn't post my blog on Wednesday, did you think I'd fallen off the rails of my new year's resolutions (or revolutions for that matter - an error in my first blog I've since corrected...thank you Oli...you have eyes like an eagle).
But seriously, I posted my blog two Wednesdays in a row... that's not a pattern, that's an anomaly. Yeah all right, I did mean for it to be posted each Wednesday but I got caught up in my other thousands of resolutions - and overachieving in one in particular. Dance.
Number 10 of my resolutions was to participate in at least two dance classes per week. This week, I did five. And my ass muscles are cursing me for it.
With my aching bum and upper thighs, stairs have become my enemy - and that's because I also did a 5km run last Saturday and am bracing for my next tomorrow morning.
The reason I'm doing so much dance is that I've been chosen to be a dancer in a show at the end of May. Rehearsals start Feb 2.
I'm scared.
I don't think the directors or choreographers will be fortunate / unfortunate enough to stumble across this blog but if they do...well I'm totally kidding about my lack of dancing experience...I'm actually really, really, really good (I say smiling wayyyyyy over the top and nodding very quickly).
I am selling myself short a little because I have done quite a bit of dance - the biggest part of this was my musical theatre course a few years back in London when we danced everyday. I just sometimes feel a bit behind because I only started dancing when I was 18, unlike many of my musical theatre counterparts...or competition... who came out of their mothers' womb doing a time-step complete with jazz hands).
I remember the first week of my 12-month musical theatre course. By the Thursday the 18 of us (some of whom had danced since they were three-years-old) were all trying to hide in the spare hall, all rocking in foetal positions because of muscle strain. It was awesome.
And...that is how I feel now. I'm delightfully in pain, which is why dance is so awesome. My muscles that I haven't used for a while are toning up again and I'm at least faking that spring in my step that good dancers seem to have. All I need to do is insert step-ball-changes into everyday life - at least five times a day....my work mates already think I'm weird...
Well, I've just thought of another resolution, but a one-week-one. For the next seven days, I'm going to live like a dancer. Dress, eat and work out like a dancer.
Then maybe I can call myself a dancer.
On another note (so random I can't think of a segue)...I restrung my guitar the other week. How did I go?
All right...a little rusty. I really should clip those loose strings because every time I pull my guitar out to play a rendition of Stairway to Heaven, I pretty much gauge my eye out with the strings.
Just kidding...
I can't play Stairway to Heaven.
So yes, that is vodka in the background. I wasn't drinking it to get me through my first re-stringing experience. I seemed to have an abundance of vodka and decided to be luxurious and use it to clean the dust from under the strings instead of metho. Dust that hadn't been lifted since I was 15.
Now my guitar smells like an alcoholic...
....and I'm out of vodka.
I'm trying to get more musical, I really am. But this week all I've done is look at my guitar, then my ukelele and have stopped myself when I've gone to congratulate the big guitar on birthing a little one.
I think I'll stick to dancing.
The end.
But seriously, I posted my blog two Wednesdays in a row... that's not a pattern, that's an anomaly. Yeah all right, I did mean for it to be posted each Wednesday but I got caught up in my other thousands of resolutions - and overachieving in one in particular. Dance.
Number 10 of my resolutions was to participate in at least two dance classes per week. This week, I did five. And my ass muscles are cursing me for it.
With my aching bum and upper thighs, stairs have become my enemy - and that's because I also did a 5km run last Saturday and am bracing for my next tomorrow morning.
The reason I'm doing so much dance is that I've been chosen to be a dancer in a show at the end of May. Rehearsals start Feb 2.
I'm scared.
I don't think the directors or choreographers will be fortunate / unfortunate enough to stumble across this blog but if they do...well I'm totally kidding about my lack of dancing experience...I'm actually really, really, really good (I say smiling wayyyyyy over the top and nodding very quickly).
I am selling myself short a little because I have done quite a bit of dance - the biggest part of this was my musical theatre course a few years back in London when we danced everyday. I just sometimes feel a bit behind because I only started dancing when I was 18, unlike many of my musical theatre counterparts...or competition... who came out of their mothers' womb doing a time-step complete with jazz hands).
I remember the first week of my 12-month musical theatre course. By the Thursday the 18 of us (some of whom had danced since they were three-years-old) were all trying to hide in the spare hall, all rocking in foetal positions because of muscle strain. It was awesome.
And...that is how I feel now. I'm delightfully in pain, which is why dance is so awesome. My muscles that I haven't used for a while are toning up again and I'm at least faking that spring in my step that good dancers seem to have. All I need to do is insert step-ball-changes into everyday life - at least five times a day....my work mates already think I'm weird...
Well, I've just thought of another resolution, but a one-week-one. For the next seven days, I'm going to live like a dancer. Dress, eat and work out like a dancer.
Then maybe I can call myself a dancer.
On another note (so random I can't think of a segue)...I restrung my guitar the other week. How did I go?
All right...a little rusty. I really should clip those loose strings because every time I pull my guitar out to play a rendition of Stairway to Heaven, I pretty much gauge my eye out with the strings.
Just kidding...
I can't play Stairway to Heaven.
So yes, that is vodka in the background. I wasn't drinking it to get me through my first re-stringing experience. I seemed to have an abundance of vodka and decided to be luxurious and use it to clean the dust from under the strings instead of metho. Dust that hadn't been lifted since I was 15.
Now my guitar smells like an alcoholic...
....and I'm out of vodka.
I'm trying to get more musical, I really am. But this week all I've done is look at my guitar, then my ukelele and have stopped myself when I've gone to congratulate the big guitar on birthing a little one.
I think I'll stick to dancing.
The end.
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