Four hours of dancing behind us today, and we're still stumped by our second quickstep long wall. Hesitation, double reverse spin turn (or something), quick outside reverse, reverse pivot, quick outside reverse, four quick run. Well. I'm not stumped... Felix is. It's the outside reverse - pivot - outside reverse combo, it is giving him hell for unknown reasons, he can't keep his feet on their two separate tracks and we've been working on these figures for months now. I stood aside for most of our lesson today, watching him work with Mireille. During our two hours, we only did two sets of figures; a corner set for slow waltz (natural spin, reverse pivot to a whisk, wing) and the quickstep grouping described above.
I'm frustrated. I shouldn't be. I should be more patient.
The main focus was alignment. Making sure we're not over-rotating anything, since Felix has a tendency to do this with his upper body while his lower body is on the right vector. He is just too damn flexible for his own good. God, it was so hard today, but I think we prevented our artistic flair from carrying us away for the first time. We tend to develop our own alignments if we aren't supervised and our choreography becomes warped. When our coaches see it again, they say, "What the fuck [sic] are you dancing? I didn't teach you that!" Mireille accuses us of "latinizing" our standard figures. Urgh.
At least our rumba walks are totally kickass. You should see them.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
It's been awhile...
...since I've been reminded of how beautiful and vivid and simple it is to be alive.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Don't be OLD PEOPLE!
It's been awhile, hasn't it? Lots of insanity here... Caspian's parents have been in town for the last 10 days. We have done everything there is to do, and it's been nightmarishly hot the whole time, and I didn't get time off, and Caspian is on vacation, and Felix was trying to convey in English the verb "to ejaculate" using outrageous nonverbals in public (don't ask why, it's a long story), and I saw Cirque du Soleil, and I got stormed upon, and I've ridden the sweltering hell tube (the metro) at least 25 times in the past few days, and - and - and -
One of the best moments was last night, when we were all eating at this little Italian place on Rue Prince-Arthur. We'd finished our meal and I was gearing up for some dancing at a social dance venue in Laval, when Caspian's mom exclaimed that she'd like to retire for the evening and watch some TV. I was dismayed. We'd planned on going out for a week, and it was only 9:30pm. Felix suddenly exclaimed, "Don't be OLD PEOPLE." And then glared at Caspian's parents in consternation, who were flabbergasted at being so openly accused. I burst out laughing. You can always count on Felix to take charge of a situation and force everyone into having fun if needs be! It's what makes him such an excellent tango partner.
We attempted to perform our choreography at this venue to practice our floorcraft, but we were met by outrageous and vocal hostility. Couples would shout at us to take our "high-level dancing" off the floor, and that we weren't wanted there. We shrugged and kept dancing (Felix was so outrageously derisive), even though it was extremely difficult to quickstep or waltz with all of the moseying social dancers on the floor. Our rumba and chacha routines are so mobile and dynamic that we had to creatively weave our way around the floor. Our rival couple was there too, for unknown reasons, and the male half of the partnership has gained about 30 lbs over the past year; it's very evident, as his partner is about three inches taller than him and a size zero. I have to admit that Felix and I are a much better match. I wonder if judges take that into consideration?
I was on my way out when a man stopped me, gave me a once-over and said in French (and then had to explain in English, to his embarrassment), "If you ever wanted to dance rumba with me, I'd never say no." Oy.
And then it was suddenly 1am and Caspian's mom asked to be driven to their flat in Vieux Montréal, which took over an hour due to ubiquitous detours and the fact of the entire city being in a joyous uproar. Traffic was gridlocked and revelers filled the cobblestone streets, worshiping the brief hot summer weather. Caspian and I offered to be dropped at the Berri-UQAM metro station, but Felix insisted upon taking us to our house in Ville-Marie - but first we picked up his 18-year-old nephew and a friend, both from Québec City, who had been to a heavy metal concert in Montréal and were staying with Felix and Raomi for the weekend. Cool kids. I find it so delightful to hear even the most punklike, rebellious teenagers suddenly start speaking fluent French, it's really shocking.
Anyway, I'm all typed out and my coffee cup needs refilling. I swear I won't wait that long to post again.
One of the best moments was last night, when we were all eating at this little Italian place on Rue Prince-Arthur. We'd finished our meal and I was gearing up for some dancing at a social dance venue in Laval, when Caspian's mom exclaimed that she'd like to retire for the evening and watch some TV. I was dismayed. We'd planned on going out for a week, and it was only 9:30pm. Felix suddenly exclaimed, "Don't be OLD PEOPLE." And then glared at Caspian's parents in consternation, who were flabbergasted at being so openly accused. I burst out laughing. You can always count on Felix to take charge of a situation and force everyone into having fun if needs be! It's what makes him such an excellent tango partner.
We attempted to perform our choreography at this venue to practice our floorcraft, but we were met by outrageous and vocal hostility. Couples would shout at us to take our "high-level dancing" off the floor, and that we weren't wanted there. We shrugged and kept dancing (Felix was so outrageously derisive), even though it was extremely difficult to quickstep or waltz with all of the moseying social dancers on the floor. Our rumba and chacha routines are so mobile and dynamic that we had to creatively weave our way around the floor. Our rival couple was there too, for unknown reasons, and the male half of the partnership has gained about 30 lbs over the past year; it's very evident, as his partner is about three inches taller than him and a size zero. I have to admit that Felix and I are a much better match. I wonder if judges take that into consideration?
I was on my way out when a man stopped me, gave me a once-over and said in French (and then had to explain in English, to his embarrassment), "If you ever wanted to dance rumba with me, I'd never say no." Oy.
And then it was suddenly 1am and Caspian's mom asked to be driven to their flat in Vieux Montréal, which took over an hour due to ubiquitous detours and the fact of the entire city being in a joyous uproar. Traffic was gridlocked and revelers filled the cobblestone streets, worshiping the brief hot summer weather. Caspian and I offered to be dropped at the Berri-UQAM metro station, but Felix insisted upon taking us to our house in Ville-Marie - but first we picked up his 18-year-old nephew and a friend, both from Québec City, who had been to a heavy metal concert in Montréal and were staying with Felix and Raomi for the weekend. Cool kids. I find it so delightful to hear even the most punklike, rebellious teenagers suddenly start speaking fluent French, it's really shocking.
Anyway, I'm all typed out and my coffee cup needs refilling. I swear I won't wait that long to post again.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Day Four
Things are much smoother now; I've been cooking some incredible things (turkey meatballs with onions and made-from-scratch tomato sauce with white wine), so it's not so bad. I've been having turkey bacon cooked in the same pan as Caspian's real bacon, plenty of almonds, fruits, and a salad as often as possible. Fruits and eggs for breakfast, tuna salad on cucumber slices for lunch, usually something exciting for dinner; I really want to try my hand at potato tilapia fish cakes with green onions. I don't crave any of the food I'm eating, but at least it wasn't like Monday at dinner... Starving but nauseous at the thought of eating chicken. I don't like the texture of chicken at all.
Also, 1.5 lbs. lighter than what I weighed in at on Monday, and I assume it's mostly water, unless my body is really shocked by this change, since I don't have much extra weight to lose. I've been experiencing some digestive difficulties, mainly in the form of indigestion and heartburn (probably from all of the raw veggies). I guess my body needs to start adapting! Manasvi says it takes 1-2 weeks.
I've also been particularly grumpy, too, a known side-effect of the early stages of low-carb/grain elimination. But I had plenty of energy at practice on Tuesday night, no problems at all!
I'm going to choose my latin and standard costumes soon, hopefully this week or next; I've spent hours looking at my options. Felix thinks I should go tastefully crazy. He's been on the comp floor a lot here in Canada throughout the past ten years and he says that the styles are very low-key at the moment. I want a latin dress with a longer skirt, at least on one side, to add length to my lines, and I know I want my standard dress to be crystal-spangled midnight blue. The latin dress I'm considering is a bit risqué; the back is open and one side of my body from shoulder to toe is bare except for one strap at the hip, and half of one ass cheek will be there for all to see. The Lycra panty portion is sequined/stoned to the max. Felix and an old partner got called off the floor in Latin once for skankiness... Can't let that happen to me.
Also, 1.5 lbs. lighter than what I weighed in at on Monday, and I assume it's mostly water, unless my body is really shocked by this change, since I don't have much extra weight to lose. I've been experiencing some digestive difficulties, mainly in the form of indigestion and heartburn (probably from all of the raw veggies). I guess my body needs to start adapting! Manasvi says it takes 1-2 weeks.
I've also been particularly grumpy, too, a known side-effect of the early stages of low-carb/grain elimination. But I had plenty of energy at practice on Tuesday night, no problems at all!
I'm going to choose my latin and standard costumes soon, hopefully this week or next; I've spent hours looking at my options. Felix thinks I should go tastefully crazy. He's been on the comp floor a lot here in Canada throughout the past ten years and he says that the styles are very low-key at the moment. I want a latin dress with a longer skirt, at least on one side, to add length to my lines, and I know I want my standard dress to be crystal-spangled midnight blue. The latin dress I'm considering is a bit risqué; the back is open and one side of my body from shoulder to toe is bare except for one strap at the hip, and half of one ass cheek will be there for all to see. The Lycra panty portion is sequined/stoned to the max. Felix and an old partner got called off the floor in Latin once for skankiness... Can't let that happen to me.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Day One
I had to choke down dinner, which was chicken breast fillets sautéed in butter and olive oil and a spinach salad with cashews, cucumbers, tomatoes and homemade lemon-lime vinaigrette. I like to cook meat, but I'm not a huge fan of eating it. Does that make sense? Also, the process of cooking things really destroys any appetite I might have for them.
Today wasn't too bad except for the fact that my brain is shouting feed me carbs! as I type. I've probably eaten healthier today than I have in months. I had scrambled eggs and a banana with almond butter for breakfast. For lunch, I had carrots with almond butter, a handful of nuts and an apple. Blueberries and golden raisins for snacks. Except I was so frazzled after pondering all of this eating healthy stuff that I had to have a glass of wine - a small one. I've probably reached 1/6 of my usually daily carb intake and will likely go into ketosis tomorrow.
I hope this gets easier.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Hoom Hom.
This morning, Raomi came with Felix and I to our practice session. He thought he had a suitable partner lined up for months, but she backed out at the last minute. Now he thinks he has another possible partner, but he's wary. He has such high expectations! When I went to my audition with Felix, there were no thoughts in my brain, fortunately. No expectations of deep friendship, no competition dreams. I just wanted to dance with another dancer. I always, always throw myself into relationships with no expectations, childlike, I think it's one of my good points.
Felix told me later that he was really jaded when he came to that audition. It would take me hours to write up all of the insane stories he's told me about ex-partners going bonkers in the middle of Latin finals, or jumping him after a couple drinks, or outweighing him by 50 lbs. An ex-partner's husband would come to all of their practices to keep his wife in line, and for good reason. And then there were the embarrassing stripper-dancing partner, the floozy partner, the extreme feminist partner who danced with him for years and wouldn't even commit to a partnership. There was one partner, a lovely dancer, who seemed perfect - but they had no chemistry. They simply couldn't stand to touch each other, and the partnership fell apart. The poor guy has had more partners than Silvio Berlusconi.
Finally he said to our coaches, "Don't call me about anybody looking for a partner unless she's a pearl." And for years, he only danced with his teacher, Sylvain. He'd had enough of crazy women.
What am I getting at here? Well, I told Raomi that he shouldn't go into a recreational partnership with tons of baggage and outrageous expectations. I guess it's good to have goals, but don't let them eclipse an open-minded experience. For all I know, I'll go bonkers in the middle of Latin finals and walk off the floor. I think Felix has finally realized that I am who I am and I don't have a hidden true nature to reveal. I'm so glad went to that first meeting innocent and open-minded, completely unaware of Felix's baggage.
Raomi seems to be open with his criticisms. He was very quick to let me know that he thought I needed more hip action in chacha and to turn up the vulgarity in rumba. His first observation was probably true (it was our first dance during practice this morning), but his second irked me a little bit. I have come so far regarding emotional expression through dance. I'm a classy person. I don't think I will ever be one of those fiery, ultrasexual, man-eating rumba partners from whom not even light can escape. There are a million ways to express love and lust and the interplay between two partners in rumba and I am sure I can do it without vulgarity. Hrmph.
Last Thursday, Manasvi and I were sitting in a coffee shop, discussing life and everything, and decided to embark on a 30-day paleo challenge. The paleo way of eating is based on the hunter-gatherer lifestyle of our ancient ancestors, and eliminates all processed sugars, processed foods, grains and dairy with the intent of giving one's body the opportunity to function in the way it evolved to function. In other words, it's just a healthy diet. Eat simple things, go easy on the carbs; meats, nuts, veggies and fruits. Don't eat crap and don't eat chemicals.
Caspian and I went to the grocery store and stocked up on different kinds of meats, fish, fresh and dried fruits, nuts and vegetables. This is waaaay different from my normal diet, which is really high in whole grains and milk products (a bowl of cereal takes like 15 seconds to prepare) and moderate to low in animal proteins/fats. I think it will be a good change, and if I can't stand it after 30 days, I'll quit. The only thing I refuse to give up is coffee with cream; I can't survive without it.
Felix told me later that he was really jaded when he came to that audition. It would take me hours to write up all of the insane stories he's told me about ex-partners going bonkers in the middle of Latin finals, or jumping him after a couple drinks, or outweighing him by 50 lbs. An ex-partner's husband would come to all of their practices to keep his wife in line, and for good reason. And then there were the embarrassing stripper-dancing partner, the floozy partner, the extreme feminist partner who danced with him for years and wouldn't even commit to a partnership. There was one partner, a lovely dancer, who seemed perfect - but they had no chemistry. They simply couldn't stand to touch each other, and the partnership fell apart. The poor guy has had more partners than Silvio Berlusconi.
Finally he said to our coaches, "Don't call me about anybody looking for a partner unless she's a pearl." And for years, he only danced with his teacher, Sylvain. He'd had enough of crazy women.
What am I getting at here? Well, I told Raomi that he shouldn't go into a recreational partnership with tons of baggage and outrageous expectations. I guess it's good to have goals, but don't let them eclipse an open-minded experience. For all I know, I'll go bonkers in the middle of Latin finals and walk off the floor. I think Felix has finally realized that I am who I am and I don't have a hidden true nature to reveal. I'm so glad went to that first meeting innocent and open-minded, completely unaware of Felix's baggage.
Raomi seems to be open with his criticisms. He was very quick to let me know that he thought I needed more hip action in chacha and to turn up the vulgarity in rumba. His first observation was probably true (it was our first dance during practice this morning), but his second irked me a little bit. I have come so far regarding emotional expression through dance. I'm a classy person. I don't think I will ever be one of those fiery, ultrasexual, man-eating rumba partners from whom not even light can escape. There are a million ways to express love and lust and the interplay between two partners in rumba and I am sure I can do it without vulgarity. Hrmph.
Last Thursday, Manasvi and I were sitting in a coffee shop, discussing life and everything, and decided to embark on a 30-day paleo challenge. The paleo way of eating is based on the hunter-gatherer lifestyle of our ancient ancestors, and eliminates all processed sugars, processed foods, grains and dairy with the intent of giving one's body the opportunity to function in the way it evolved to function. In other words, it's just a healthy diet. Eat simple things, go easy on the carbs; meats, nuts, veggies and fruits. Don't eat crap and don't eat chemicals.
Caspian and I went to the grocery store and stocked up on different kinds of meats, fish, fresh and dried fruits, nuts and vegetables. This is waaaay different from my normal diet, which is really high in whole grains and milk products (a bowl of cereal takes like 15 seconds to prepare) and moderate to low in animal proteins/fats. I think it will be a good change, and if I can't stand it after 30 days, I'll quit. The only thing I refuse to give up is coffee with cream; I can't survive without it.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Kiss Kiss Bang Bang
I'm armed and dangerous. With Rosetta Stone. Watch out world.
Felix and I had our first dance lesson in a month today; what with all of our traveling and his crazy schedule and Pierre and Mireille off adjutanting or whatever at different comps around the world, it's been hard to find the time. Breakthroughs on waltz (1 hour), foxy (20 mins) and quickstep (20 mins). There was a 20-something standard dancer there who kept checking himself out and I'd keep catching him at it, and it was completely redonkulous. He is a decent dancer, pre-champ I'm sure, but his dainty posturing didn't give him a particularly virile edge; at least Felix has that going for him. Anyway, this guy would paste on his vapid waltz smile and sashay around the room, stop in front of the mirror, puff out his chest, examine his bubble butt and then catch me with my eyebrows raised and twinkletoes off in a new direction. This happened at least four times during my lesson.
Whenever Felix and I get into frame, we have a silent war with our clasped, outstretched hands. He wants my hand to fit his a certain way, but I want it to be a different way, and we stand there battling with our thumbs until we reach a compromise. Pierre thought this was singularly funny, us with our airy smiles, standing gracefully for long periods of time while the music leaves us behind, squishing and twiddling our hands midair. Well, we finally solved this problem today! All Felix has to do is hold his hand up in a mitten shape at a 45-degree angle! We are using the parallel thumb hold rather than the crossed thumb hold.
And at least 5 times during our lesson, Felix would screw up and shout out "TA-ber-NAC!" (an old-fashioned Québecois curse word with roughly the same oomph as "FUCK IT!") and the moms of the little kid couple (dayum those kids are skilled) would look up in startled irritation every time. Pierre would dissolve in peals of delighted laughter. In addition to being a 12-time North American Ten-Dance Champion, he loves slang, dirty words and especially scandalizing people. Fun times.
In other news, I got a bombshell e-mail from my trainer manager that pretty much knocked me into grad school pre-exam levels of stress... Apparently, the Japanese coordinator wants to give me another Japanese test. Why? No clue. I took one last fall, and I'm sure as hell not going to score much higher now unless they give me some time to get my vocabulary up to par. And Caspian is [rightfully] pressuring me to get more serious about French, as my certification studies at McGill University are about 6 months away (if all goes well, financially). Oof. And thus, Rosetta Stone! Caspian gave Level 1 a test drive this afternoon and now I hear a calm woman's voice announcing une fille! un homme! un avion! une fille et un cheval! over and over in my brain. I also learned today that 'hangover' in French is mal à les cheveux, something like 'hair trouble' or even 'hairache.' Weird.
Felix and I had our first dance lesson in a month today; what with all of our traveling and his crazy schedule and Pierre and Mireille off adjutanting or whatever at different comps around the world, it's been hard to find the time. Breakthroughs on waltz (1 hour), foxy (20 mins) and quickstep (20 mins). There was a 20-something standard dancer there who kept checking himself out and I'd keep catching him at it, and it was completely redonkulous. He is a decent dancer, pre-champ I'm sure, but his dainty posturing didn't give him a particularly virile edge; at least Felix has that going for him. Anyway, this guy would paste on his vapid waltz smile and sashay around the room, stop in front of the mirror, puff out his chest, examine his bubble butt and then catch me with my eyebrows raised and twinkletoes off in a new direction. This happened at least four times during my lesson.
Whenever Felix and I get into frame, we have a silent war with our clasped, outstretched hands. He wants my hand to fit his a certain way, but I want it to be a different way, and we stand there battling with our thumbs until we reach a compromise. Pierre thought this was singularly funny, us with our airy smiles, standing gracefully for long periods of time while the music leaves us behind, squishing and twiddling our hands midair. Well, we finally solved this problem today! All Felix has to do is hold his hand up in a mitten shape at a 45-degree angle! We are using the parallel thumb hold rather than the crossed thumb hold.
And at least 5 times during our lesson, Felix would screw up and shout out "TA-ber-NAC!" (an old-fashioned Québecois curse word with roughly the same oomph as "FUCK IT!") and the moms of the little kid couple (dayum those kids are skilled) would look up in startled irritation every time. Pierre would dissolve in peals of delighted laughter. In addition to being a 12-time North American Ten-Dance Champion, he loves slang, dirty words and especially scandalizing people. Fun times.
In other news, I got a bombshell e-mail from my trainer manager that pretty much knocked me into grad school pre-exam levels of stress... Apparently, the Japanese coordinator wants to give me another Japanese test. Why? No clue. I took one last fall, and I'm sure as hell not going to score much higher now unless they give me some time to get my vocabulary up to par. And Caspian is [rightfully] pressuring me to get more serious about French, as my certification studies at McGill University are about 6 months away (if all goes well, financially). Oof. And thus, Rosetta Stone! Caspian gave Level 1 a test drive this afternoon and now I hear a calm woman's voice announcing une fille! un homme! un avion! une fille et un cheval! over and over in my brain. I also learned today that 'hangover' in French is mal à les cheveux, something like 'hair trouble' or even 'hairache.' Weird.
Friday, July 1, 2011
Love
Sometimes we love with nothing more than hope. Sometimes we cry with everything except tears. In the end, that's all there is; love and its duty, sorrow and its truth. In the end, that's all we have - to hold on tight until the dawn.
- Shantaram
- Shantaram
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