they brought the theater with them

Never have I ever led an existence that includes ballet at 9AM.

I really start to love it though, about halfway through. As soon  as I get used to being awake, it's wonderful. Don't get me wrong, it's not the actual act of being awake at nine that gets hard, it's the knowledge that I need to be up and ready to go before 8:30 so that I can dance badly for an hour and a half and then plunge into a day at the studio that will last until 6PM.

"But Kaila," you might be thinking, "Didn't you take ballet for, like, ten years?" Yes. Yes I did. That does not combat the fact that my feet are as flat as the floor on which you are standing (sitting?) and my hips are tighter than Beyonce's backup dancers' choreography.

The wonderful thing about the world, though, is the way in which it has never given me anything unbearable. My dance teacher is wonderful. When you think ballerina, what do you picture? A long beautiful girl, with huge blue eyes and brown hair with elegant bangs? That's her. That's Stacey. Every move she makes could be documented and put on file as "the correct way" to do things. She picks up a water bottle? That's the way it should look when we all do it. She's gorgeous.

Also the music she plays. You guys, she has piano arrangements of pretty much every song, from the Into The Woods Prologue to Bruno Mars' "Just The Way You Are". Also we did chaine turns to Sara Bareilles. She's wonderful.

Right after dance class we have a three hour scene study class. It's one of the most educational things I've ever done, and I love it, but three hours is a long time to sit still and focus on one thing. At least for me.

After that comes voice and speech, in which we crouch on all fours and recite Romeo and Juliet and our teacher walks around and gives us mini massages. There is more, obviously, but those are the highlights.

Then we have a two hour character class, for which I always get indescribably nervous. I have no idea why.

My teachers are brilliant.

My voice and speech teacher is... made of magic, probably. She has long black hair, huge brown eyes, and olive skin. Every sound that comes out of her mouth is smooth like silk. If Mary Poppins and Morticia Addams had a child, it would be Christa Jones.

My character teacher, though, is in a league of her own. In her nineties, Betsy Parish has more life in her than all of us put together. Every time she opens her mouth something wise and life changing comes out. The first day of class, she walked in to the room and told us, "When I say 'go', I want you to stand up as quickly as you can." We all looked at each other, wondering if we had heard her right.

"On your marks...." We all leaned forward...
"Get set...." Some of us started to rise accidentally--
"GO!" A room full of bodies leapt towards the sky.

"Not fast enough!" She exclaimed, a gleam in her eye. "Again!" We complied. After the third time we were finally fast enough.

"On your marks," she smiled, "Get set..." We sat on the edges of our seats, hanging on to her every movement, just starving for her to give the signal. "Do you feel that?" She whispered, taking in the energy of the room. We nodded. "That's how you should always work."

Boom. Minds blown.

Today in class I realized how necessary it is to record everything the woman says. The stories she tells are beyond belief. Today, she talked about how magnificent it was to be around Elaine Stritch as a person and performer. She talked about her teacher, Stella Adler, and Stella's friend, Harold Clerman. "They were just wonderful. Their energy.... everywhere they went, they brought the theater with them."

None of us were quite sure how to tell Betsy that she too brought the theater with her, so we all just stayed quiet.