Then I went home and rested for a while, but had to leave again right away to go to Mrs. H. In the meantime I had found out that Pepper had died. I spoke to her about it, and about the fact that I ‘slip into other people’ and out of myself, and am no longer aware of myself.
At home I ate spaetzle and rested, watched some Gossip Girl and enjoyed my macaroons. I ate too much, but they are very good. Heavier and damper than the little ones I know, but somehow exotic and luxurious. I wrote down the best flavous. Next time I will buy less!
I had planned to go to class at the opera. But then I grew afraid and almost didn’t go. But I went anyway. Miraculously, the ballet tram came. And I was making my bun while looking out of the window and watching people’s reaction to the pictures on the tram. It’s so much fun watching somebody’s face looking at the tram (hidden behind the huge ballerina on the window) and imagining that this person is admiring the beauty of the dancers or poses, is touched by it, fascinated, maybe becomes a ballet fan or lets go his prejudices.
The class went well, I was feeling ok. Not too confident, but good enough. My technique is cleaner than most of the others’ who were there. Near the end my phone rang, so that I apologised to Regula after class. She said she had not seen me for ages, and I explained where I was studying now and why (schedule problem, I said). And then she said it would be nice if I came again some time and everything was so good with me. That made me happy, to finally hear some praise from her. Because in class I realised again how much I have learned and how big the difference must be from my last regular classes there, one and a half years ago. And most of it I owe to Franca.
I met a woman who had been at Franca’s on Monday for a trial class, and told her it was better there. She wants to come on Thursday.