Closet Contemplations (Of The Dancer Variety)

The nifty thing about this blog is that it is actually coming to you from my closet, where I have spent a good part of my day, thinking. The first thought that really strikes me while sitting in my closet, and strikes me in the form of my walking boot falling on me, is that I should probably attempt to ebay the said walking boot because its worth is close to 400 dollars. I wore it for 3 weeks and it miraculously healed my tendonitis, leaving my insurance 400 dollars poorer and my right leg 4 shades whiter than the left. I am thankful for the full use of my leg, as I have been using it daily since the incident, but now feel rather compelled to take actions towards recovering those funds. I shall see what I can do.

The next thought that strikes me (just so you are forewarned, this is, as the title implies, a contemplation, meaning there is no rhyme or reason to the direction my thoughts take me, but rather the direction my closet takes me, as it has full hold of the till at this current juncture in time), with impressive force, in fact, is weight loss. I come to find that this particularly sensitive subject is much on peoples minds. Small wonder if a good long look is taken at the overweight rates in our country. I could go on and off about why this is and what is to be done, but I'm not going to. I'm sure you probably have your own opinions about it and don't need mine to add to or change the pile. My thoughts are actually about my own weight and loss thereof. I actually took pounds off over Christmas break, probably the most ironic time to do so, but the time I like to do it best, very probably because it is so ironic to come back from the feasting season 2 pant sizes smaller. I made the choice mostly because I'm tired of not being able to get my fat ass off the ground in dance class. I thought that losing weight would solve all my problems. In reflection, it has solved a great many. Ballet is going swimmingly, which is saying much, because I have been incompatible with ballet since I was 12. Its just easier the skinnier you are, probably the reason so many ballerinas are skeletons. Its just easier to do impossibilities with your body when there isn't any body to fight with. More power to the girls who forge ahead in ballet carrying those 'extra pounds.' This said, modern is another story. While ballet is done entirely upright, on your own two legs, a great deal of modern is spent on the floor. A greater deal of modern is spent getting up from the floor and back down again. What I'm trying to say is that there is impact involved. We do learn, just like skateboarders, snowboarders, martial artists, and anyone else who makes a profession out of falling, to allow our bodies to be taken by the fall and be in contact with the floor. However, this does not negate the fact that we are in fact... falling. Having lost weight, the bitter truth is that I no longer have the padding I once did to protect my joints and bony parts. I am, to put it lightly, one big bruise. I bruise pretty easily as it is, and having taken away the comfortable pads, the natural barriers... I am beaten by the floor. The count runs, floor 1, Jessie 0. I am ashamed to admit this, but thats the way it has to be.

The even more pathetic part of these events is the fact that in some sick masochistic way... I enjoy it. I show my bruises off with pride and count them in the shower. None of my muscles are working properly, and yet I continue to beat them into submission with unrelenting brutality. I enjoy rehearsal when everything hurts, but I can continue to move. The problem comes when everything hurts... and refuses to move. This is what happened to me yesterday. I knew the arm movement... my arms just wouldn't do it. To return to the pain topic, perhaps I enjoy it so much because I am exploring unchartered territory. And I'm not talking about the movement, even though it is just that. I'm talking about muscle groups. Over the course of this week, I not only witnessed once again how truly ugly gossip is, I found whole groups of muscles that I never knew existed. I am achieving physicality and doing moves in rehearsal that I never would have thought possible, and discovering things about myself, like when you do 300 handstands in one week you are all of a sudden unable to move your arms... at all.

At this point in time my closet contemplations lead me to a rather touchy subject, touchier, in fact, that weight loss, if that is possible. I hesitate to bear all to you, even though you know much already. But my hesitation must be put aside for your benefit, to open your eyes and make you ponder. Laundry is probably the most frustrating thing I deal with. Laundry for just anybody, meaning me, say, in the summer, when I am not dancing 5 hours a day, is not such a big deal. You wear a pair of jeans a few times and then wash them. Shirts probably only get worn once, because of the whole armpit issue. But when I am dancing all day and soaking through layer upon layer of clothing, I am required to change my clothes as many as 4 times a day. This poses a little issue to the whole clean clothes thing... I simply do not have the storage to hold all the clothes I would need to change my clothes 4 times a day and do laundry once a week, which is the most convenient time frame. And so, I am left to feel like I am either doing laundry all the time or have no clothes to wear.

Finally, I would like to discuss peanuts with you. You perhaps knew already that peanuts are the lowest fat nut... and yet they have a higher concentration of fat than potato chips. Okay, that may be a little bit of an exaggeration... I don't in fact know that for a factual fact, but I'm sure its pretty close to accurate. I love peanuts, especially the raw red Spanish ones that taste like the dirt outside. But the fat content does bother me a little. This is not because I'm paranoid about fat intake (well, maybe just a little...), because the rest of my diet consists of fruits and veggies. This is more simply because I think that something so healthy should be healthier. I have this rare disease called Eating Paranoia, I'm sure in part due to the fact that I'm a dancer. I often resort to eating a spoonful of peanut butter for a meal and sadly, I feel a little guilty when I go in for seconds. Ridiculous, I know, but its life as a dancer.

I know I said peanuts were my final contemplation, and yet I am forced to continue onward with my thoughts on new age music. Its weird... and yet so calming. I have recently discovered the calming, focusing power of new age music. Of course, reggae has this same quality and perhaps people wouldn't think I was so weird if I resorted to that instead...

So there you have it. These are the disturbing thoughts that I have while sitting in my closet, contemplating.