dancin' like a foo
My intersession jazz class is over (sob!) and spring classes have begun. Ballet looks like it'll be pretty standard, except the usual teacher had a heart attack and so now a bald guy who also teaches my Saturday belly-dancing class is subbing while the regular teacher recovers. He seems pretty cool. (According to girls who have taken the class before, the regular teacher dislikes split-sole shoes because they make it "too easy." Um, yikes?) Black leotards, pink tights, hair in a bun, and they probably won't let me wear my dance skirt to camoflage my hips. Boo.
I am kind of freaked out about my hip-hop class. We have to wear sneakers and baggy clothes-- nothing remotely tight allowed. And the teacher uses words like "dope" and "sick" and "tight" non-ironically. Oh, and there are seriously like 60 people in this class. The teacher was like "yeah, it'll thin out after a couple of weeks." Hmmm. I'm contemplating switching over to the jazz class that's at the same time. (I miss my eleven-person intersession class!)
I am kind of freaked out about my hip-hop class. We have to wear sneakers and baggy clothes-- nothing remotely tight allowed. And the teacher uses words like "dope" and "sick" and "tight" non-ironically. Oh, and there are seriously like 60 people in this class. The teacher was like "yeah, it'll thin out after a couple of weeks." Hmmm. I'm contemplating switching over to the jazz class that's at the same time. (I miss my eleven-person intersession class!)