SalomeJustitia

New direction.

So, it looks like I'm going to be needing a new title for my blog ...

After much soul-searching and discussion, I have made the decision to withdraw from law school and return to the working world - where, I'm not sure yet, but now is the time to move on.  I know!  I'm feeling a lot of things right now, but mostly excitement to start the next phase of my life.  In my heart, I have known for some time that I didn't actually want to be a lawyer.  But I have so many things I am passionate about, and now I need to figure out how to incorporate the things I truly love and am good at into my working life.  I knew that if I didn't go ahead and take this jump (with no safety net!) I would simply stay out of habit.  So big changes are afoot, and I'm sure I'll have plenty to say on the subject in the upcoming weeks.  As for now, my dancing is going to stay the same - maybe I'll even get to take a few more classes now that I have joined the ranks of the unemployed!

In the meantime, how about nominations for new blog titles?  I think I'd like to keep the Salome, but maybe incorporate a ballroom element.  SalomeSamba, in a nod to Tonya?  Or something with a Shimmy in it?  That covers bellydance and Latin - hmm, I like that a lot, maybe I'll run with that.  Who has ideas?

Bad feet.

There is a running joke between me and my parents that I got the worst qualities from both of them - Mom's allergies and prematurely grey hair; Pop's migraines and crooked teeth, etc.  Most of these I have fixed with hair dye, orthodontia, and pharmacuticals, but there is one inherited feature that I can do nothing about - my feet.  How frustrating when I've always loved dancing so much to have the infamous "bad feet."

I suppose I should be happy I'm here to have bad feet at all; after all, it was the flat-footedness I inherited that kept my father out of the military back in the day.  But I lived many years of my life with a woman with almost perfect feet.  My mother is very proud of her feet, and I do have to say (and occasionally she insists we all do) that they are beautiful, a model of what feet should be.  I've been with her on multiple occasions when total strangers come up to her to tell her what beautiful feet she has, and her wide array of sandals and perfect pedicures showcase them even more.  So I have a touch of a complex; I worship at the altar of perfect feet.

Not so much at the end of these here pins.  It's the arch that really creates a beautiful foot, and I have unfortunately weak arches.  Oh, I cover it up - years of training my feet in pointe shoes means I know how to point my foot to create the illusion of more arch, and the vertiginous heels I'm fond of wearing prevent my ankles from pronating when I walk.  But I know.  And I haven't done much to make them more attractive.  Take the bad feet base and layer on toes broken multiple times, callouses upon callouses, and ever since I started Latin dancing, consistently chipped pedicures (it's the dragging that does it!).  It all adds up to a bit of a mess.  But as my mother used to say, "you can't see the spots on a galloping horse."  So if I keep them moving fast enough, maybe you and I both won't notice their flaws, and only see the dancing.

Immobile.

In the midst of a flurry of finals and final papers right now, but managed to sneak in a dance class or two before the complete insanity kicked in.  I'm feeling more confident about my cha-cha, and for the hour I'm there I manage to forget about everything I'm supposed to be doing at my desk (well, for at least 25 minutes of the hour).  I finally "get" the check-step; not only that I remember to do it, but I'm really allowing it to stop my motion completely and give me that nice pause and settle before the next movement, which allows me to not to rush the NEXT movement, and so on.  Still fast, but not impossibly so - a big change in perspective.

Was almost falling over in bellydance - exhausted, coming off a migraine and fully medicated, and just really feeling the strain of the world.  This strain, of course, exacerbated the old neck problems, so I've spent the last two days incapacitated and unable to move my head without ice-pick-type pain.

Amazing what a visit from Mom can do, though.  Apparently I was too thin the last time she saw me, so she and Dad came bearing groceries today, which were most welcome.  And after their visit and two good meals, I'm feeling much improved and have a fuller range of motion!  Hooray for parents!

Restrictions.

A few weeks ago, my husband asked me what I'd like for Christmas, quickly followed by the statement, "Nothing dance."  He's super supportive (both emotionally and financially) about my dancing, but sometimes I get the feeling that I'm losing his attention when I keep on with the dance chatter.  We took a few salsa lessons together a million years ago when we were dating, and he's a great natural dancer, like his mother and father, though he won't admit it and doesn't have a passion for it.  So nothing dance on my Christmas list.  Easier said than done; dance stuff is all I want!  The list I ended up giving him was very sneaky; nothing obviously dance, like no shoes or lessons or rehearsal clothes, but I couldn't help putting in that sword necklace I've been eyeing for its Middle Eastern look, or those burlesque-inspired shoes, or the digital camera I've been needing for this blog.  I guess I'll see if he figures me out and I hope he doesn't read this until the purchases have been made!

Reasons II.

Bellydance reminded me of the joy of dance, and once I got that joy back, my appetite for dance became voracious.  All of the dance obsession of my childhood and teens came rushing back, and while I knew that going back to ballet was the wrong thing for my body and my mind, that dancing as much as possible with the best teachers I could find was the right thing for me at this point in my life.

As I've mentioned, I used to absolutely idolize Tony and Melanie, and sought out their studio when deciding to give ballroom a try.  But why ballroom in the first place?  I think that I'm living a very hermetic lifestyle as a law student.  I spend more time in my room at my desk than anywhere else, and I'm alone without Pablo all week due to the excessive commute.  For one, I wanted the social feel of a bustling studio with people having just having fun.  Secondly, I think it's just healthy to have physical contact in your life, which I don't get as a solo dancer, and certainly don't get in my personal life when I'm away from my husband.  Humans are just meant to be touched in a positive way, and I like that about partner dancing.

I've also really noticed the positive inflence ballroom has had on my bellydancing.  Michael and I have worked a lot on getting grounded and sending energy into the floor and about separating the upper and lower halves of the body.  Vital in ballroom but so much help in bellydance as well.

Overextended.

That's me in one word.  I truly think this is the busiest I've ever been in my whole life, but then again, I've only lived a little over a quarter century and most of that was in a tiny rural town without much to do, so maybe my busy-meter is off.

They say about law school: in the first year they scare you to death, in the second year they work you to death, and in the third year they bore you to death.  Well, I can't wait to be bored, because this 2L year is leaving little time for sleep (who needs it anyway?).  Between the Criminal Appeals Clinic, my upper-level classes, my journal, the two clubs I foolishly ran for executive board of, and the new club I'm starting, school is just a whirl.  Plus I stayed on as a law clerk at my summer job, where they are extremely flexible about my time, bless them, but commuting to Newark really takes a chunk out of those days.  If only I didn't get train sick and could do work while riding the rails!  But the job funds ...

Dancing, dancing, and more dancing!  I'm living in NYC during the week for school; so I'm away from my husband and have no one to come home to in the evenings.  I need something to fill my time other than hornbooks and case cites, so why not take advantage of living in the dance capital of the U.S.A. and take lessons with the great dancers and teachers working in NYC?   I was so lucky to find Reyna last year and she has made me realize that this ballet-beaten body was meant to bellydance.  I'm working hard to meet her standards and she amazingly asked me to start doing shows with the other girls recently, so we're constantly working on new material and performing.  And ballroom!  I obsessively watched those PBS ballroom specials in my teens and so remember Tony Meredith and Melanie LaPatin winning the national title in Latin.  They were always my favorite and when I found out they had a dance studio in the city, I knew I had to study there.  My teacher Michael is a doll and is being very patient with a newbie to partner dancing.  His biggest compliment so far has been "pretty not bad."  One day I hope to graduate to "not bad."  We're working on this crazy-fast cha-cha/salsa routine for the studio's showcase early next year (choreographed by Tony himself, who I still get nervous around) and I'm having a great time with it, though it's hard for a perfectionist like me to not be able to make my body do exactly what I want it to.  The good thing about partner dancing is, though, that I can't look at the mirror, so I don't actually have to see how much improvement is needed.

So, maybe overextended is the right adjective for the moment.  But so is striving, and it's never a bad thing to push yourself to the next level.