At my adult ballet class the other night I discovered my first sexy ballet move. It was a little surprising. I mean, I know that some guys consider ballet very sexy, but I always thought it was mostly a case of girls in tight clothes kicking their legs high. The movements themselves seem somewhat asexual, tightly disciplined, seeking an almost abstract purity of line and form that comes from consummate control rather than overt sexuality. It’s very, very beautiful and highly expressive, but sexy? Not so much. Last night, however, the teacher had us do a variation on our grand battements (the move where you kick your leg as high as you can to the front, side, or back. We were kicking to the side, and instead of bringing the leg straight back down you bend the knee, bring it in towards your body, then reverse it, tracing a little figure 8 with your knee. Then you take your leg back out to the side and straighten it again before bringing it down. I had never done this before, so I had to ask the teacher to show me more clearly. I picked it up right away, and as I watched myself do this in the mirror I thought, “Huh. That’s kinda hot.”

It’s been interesting joining this ballet class after taking a semester of ballet at my school. In the class I was part of before, we all started at roughly the same place and progressed together. The teacher knew that we had no technique, no knowledge of ballet fundamentals, so he always started at very basic places. Then he sometimes progressed to what my current teacher considers more advanced things. However, you can’t do everything in a semester, so my knowledge is uneven. For example, I have done five million tombé pas de bourrée’s (though it turns out I had not been doing them well), but I had never done a jeté. Also, I’m used to doing tendu’s, frappé’s, and ronde de jambe’s much more quickly than my current teacher prefers. It’s a challenge sometimes to just slow down.

On the subject of slowing down – I slept all day yesterday. I did not intend to. Somehow it just happened. I’ve been hovering on the edge of sick for a while, but I kept myself going. Then today I just… didn’t. I didn’t hear my alarm at all. Johnsy says she came and woke me up at one point. I don’t remember that at all. I was awake for maybe half an hour around noon, and then I fell asleep again until 4:30. Then I got up, drank my coffee, and had my first meal of the day. I had a commitment to keep that evening, so I did that. A quick stop on the way home for bobbins (somehow all my threaded bobbins have disappeared), and I was pretty much done for the day. So far today seems to be going better.

Hugh with babyLast night at Tuesday Night Bal, one of the guys was talking about his experiences as an attractive young man substitute teaching for middle school kids. In the midst of various comments about little girls in the midst of their first crush, I said that the hottest guy I know is teaching 6th graders this year in A Large City Nearby. As I said this, I got a reaction from Trey that let me know that, until that moment, he had assumed he was the hottest guy I know. And, um, no. Trey is plenty cute and all, but Hugh is in a class all by himself. I had thought that there was no way he could get more attractive, and then he posted photos of himself with his new niece and goddaughter, whom he adores. How can one guy really be that hot? It boggles the mind.

The cool thing is that, beyond his looks, Hugh’s a great guy. He’s Catholic, and he takes his faith seriously. He has a social conscience. His dream in life (since a messed up shoulder destroyed his hopes of a pro-baseball career) is to run a soup kitchen. I’m not kidding. He’s respectful towards women. He’s funny. He extemporaneously quotes Walt Whitman while being completely heterosexual.

And, of course, he’s discerning the priesthood.

Remind me again – why do I have that policy against dating guys who are discerning the priesthood?  Oh, yeah.  Joe.