I broke this story up into two pieces because apparently I had a lot to say on the subject and it is a really long ass entry. I'll post Part 2 tomorrow.

Oh the agony. My body is a mass of painful, sore muscles that only massive amounts of Ibuprofen would ease. How can I even begin to describe the experience that was ballet class? Not only was it a serious workout, it was also an interesting lesson in "ballet culture", for lack of a better term.

When I entered the ballet school (conveninently located a few blocks away from a well known strip club), it was completely empty. Excitement turned to uncertainty as I meandered the dimly lit hallways. When I finally located the reception desk, I patiently waited for the receptionist who was obviously making a personal call to acknowledge my existence. She managed to ignore me for five whole minutes.

"Oh my god, I am so flexible that I have a slipped disc," she rambled. "Isn't that awful?"

I cleared my throat several times. Finally, she sighed and told whoever was on the other line to hold.

"May I help you?" she asked in a bored voice.

"I'm here for the Adult A class," I informed her.

"Fill this out please," she replied and handed me some paperwork.

At this point, dancers began to trickle in. I quickly filled out the paperwork and sat down. The lone male of the class walked in and began to stretch out his legs next to me. He had dyed his hair a bright corn yellow (even it was so obvious he wasn't blonde). He wore a tank top and black stretchy pants adorned with an ostentatious diamond belt buckle.

"Is this the beginning class?" I asked him in an attempt to make conversation.

"Yes it is." he replied.

"Are there a lot of people in there?" I wondered.

"Oh no, it is a very small class, don't you worry about it." he said reassuringly.

The increasing number of dancers belied his statement. Most of them looked to be college age. One girl actually did the splits and was stretching as she studied from a textbook. I tried to make conversation with the girl next to me but when she limited herself to monosyllabic answers I gave up. Eventually we all filed into the studio and went to stand at the barre (railing, about waist high, along the wall of a studio. Used by dancers as for steadying themselves in the first part of a class.) I estimated that there were about 20 dancers present, and many were already expertly stretching in graceful poses. This was the beginning class? I sighed.

(all definitions in italics are courtesy of this handy online ballet dictionary).