Sorry for the...millionth time?

Well, as a writer you would expect me to perhaps be able to think of more than one way to apologize. Well this writer is a pretty bad writer, so that won't be coming. I suppose I'll have to just settle for the traditional, "I'm sorry." I'm so sorry for all the apologies vowing that I will be back, and that I'll start writing more, because that obviously did not happen. I'm sorry for all my broken promises.

But mostly, I am extremely disappointed in my supposedly loyal followers. Because I dropped from fifty of them, to forty-nine. Now, who would do such a thing? Thankfully, right after this disaster occurred, I got a new follower. But that isn't stopping me from writing all of your names down so I can keep track of who stops following me in the future. If you stop following my blog from now on, I will HUNT YOU DOWN. Because I will know your name. And your account. Mwahaha. Well just kidding, but I might send you an email about how much you hurt my feelings.

Anyway, moving on to other topics. It feels only just that as this is a writing blog and I have done no writing on here in so long, that I should perhaps write a little? I was going to write some of my normal, fantasy, violence, etc stories. Maybe some romance. But I got a bit sidetracked this morning, and now my head is absorbed into a completely different world. A world that I yearn to be in, and am trying my hardest to be a part of.


  The lights are dimmed, the audience is hushed. The only sound that can be heard is the pattering of footsteps beyond the double doors that block even the hit of light to peep into darkness. Everyone is waiting, anticipating that moment when they become completely vulnerable, and all eyes focus on them. With a boom, a light switches on, casting a gleaming circle into the center of blackness. A few murmurs escape the lips of those sighing in relief from boredom, although they are quickly hushed by those who know better.
  These people have no patience, I think as I stand by the side, rolling my eyes although no one could see, it is that dark where I wait. Then again, I am no better. This is taking too long. If they don't start soon enough, I will be late for my entrance. Finally, as no change is made from either the stage or the audience, I open one of the doors slightly, just barely enough for me to slide my skinny body through it. For a moment, I just stand there and blink my eyes. The light brightening the hallway contrasts too greatly with the dark atmosphere of the side of the stage where no one is supposed to be seen. Once my eyes get used to the change, I run down the hall and turn, bursting into a tiny room busy with girls fixing hair, makeup, and costumes. Slipping in between the bustling, I make my way to my own supplies. I had already done my hair and makeup, but I still need to slide my first costume on and wear my shoes.
  "Azure." I swivel my head away from the mirror to see my closest friend, and my biggest rival standing besides me. "You'll do great," Cassie smiled. She was already completely read to go on stage, her flowing pink party dress over her leotard and tights, her fake, curly hair cascading on to her shoulders, a pink bow tied neatly upon her head. Her feet, covered with socks held a squarish shape, meaning that her pointe shoes were also on. We always wear socks over our shoes, so that we don't ruin them, stepping on normal floor and other hazards to perfectly beautiful shoes.
  This year, Cassie got the role of Clara, the main character in The Nutcracker. Her role receives the most adoration, the most attention. I got the Snow Queen, the Arabian Princess, and the Sugar Plum Fairy. All of the parts can compete, they are all equally difficult in ability. Both of our talent for dance is equal, making us rivals. But our friendship has been twisted together since as long as I can remember, which serves as a counterbalance for our position.
  I smirk back at her. "Of course I will. And so will you. We always do well, right?" This performance will be our fifth out of many so far this year. We usually do a total of ten shows, so as of this moment, we are about halfway through.
  Quickly, I pull my white tutu up over my legs and bend down to slide the pointe shoes on. Then I cross them in the familiar pattern and tie them tightly so they won't come out on stage. I also use hair spray to secure it. Once I double check that I look stage ready, I nod to Cassie and follow her out, back through the double doors into darkness. The music is playing, and the prologue is taking place. Grinning at Cassie, and flashing her a thumbs up, I make my way to the wing that I would enter from and settle myself as it would be a long wait until my turn comes.
  It's always a joy watching a performance, no matter how many times you have seen it before, or what angle you are watching from. The way each dancer moves, it creates a story of their own, one that is fascinating to dissect. They show the emotions on their faces so well, but I know from my own experience that it has nothing to do with what they are actually thinking. In our heads, it is all about the technique, and make sure it is pleasant to watch. None of the feelings we portray are actually our thoughts.

Finally, the battle scene is over. The mice scurry offstage, and all who are left are Clara and the Nutcracker. After doing a short pas de deux, they run offstage and past the wings. I stand up, knowing the snow scene is about to start. Of course I don't make the first appearance, the snowflakes have to dance first. I creep slowly into the wing where I wait until it is my turn. The heavy cloth legs next to me are black, except for the bright light shining on them, in the shapes of snowflakes.
  Temps leve, glissade, grande jete. My cue to go onstage. They have to perform that movement three more times before they clear off and I run on into the blinding light. I can see my partner waiting from the wing across the stage. He is jumping from foot to foot, warming up his feet.
  I hear heavy breathing next to me. Cassie is standing there, waiting for her next entrance. She exits the other side of the stage, but she reenters from where I stand. Meaning the moment she runs off, she has to sprint all the way across from the back. I can see the sweat glistening off her skin, threatening to roll down in drops of liquid. "Good job," I whisper, before the music abruptly changes and I race on the stage and step into an arabesque, then tour jete. I hold the position until my partner runs out himself and pretends to support me. While I wait, I run a mental list through my head. Straight leg, turned out, body up, head up, arms in front, smile. Smile.  Make sure you're smiling. It is basically the last reminder to myself before I cannot focus on smiling and I have to remember the combination. During every resting moment, where I am not in the middle of a leap or turn, I run that list repeatedly.
  After a few more movements, I step up in front, and hold my partners hand above my head, my other resting his his palm next to mine. I develope my leg in front of me, then whip it quickly to the side and bring it into passe, tearing my arms away from his and putting them in first position in front of me. In that position, I do ten pirouettes unstopping, his hands on my waist to keep me in balance. With that, I step away and run off stage for the final time as the snow queen. Panting, I trudge back to the dressing room, where I am congratulated by my friends.
  Even though I am exhausted, it was worth it. It always is. The pressure, the attention, the fact that if you mess up, hundreds of people know is satisfying. That is the pleasure of ballet, somehow difficulty is more appealing than ease.

Okay. So that sucked. I know. And I know no one cares about me fantasizing about my dance life and how I want to be the star of a professional company and everything but I had to! You see, we had our auditions last Sunday. For two weeks I've been starving from knowledge about what parts I might receive this year, my first time en pointe. They are going to announce the results on Friday, so as of the moment, forty-six hours and five minutes from now. So I've been in a Nutcracker mode right now. Bear with me a while. :)