Question Time faux pas and ballet grand pas

Well, what an eventful 24 hours it’s been – a #bbcqt faux pas on Twitter, my best ballet lesson for months (if not ever) and coming out to someone who not only knows what a TERF is but has certain sympathies with them.

Question Time Girl is girl – oops!

I shall rewind to last night. I was in a rather mighty fine mood when I arrived home just after 9pm. I attend a local slimming club and had lost 3lb – hurrah! The things you can achieve when you’re not stressed out and eating lard.

Anyway, I always watch Question Time, so popped it on and tweeted a few things. At one point, there was a trans woman in the audience – a slightly larger lady. She was getting all kinds of abuse on Twitter, some of it by a guy who lives near me who runs a charity. Not very professional.

A little later, a guy was making a point, and the woman behind him caught my eye. – blonde, pretty and wearing the most amazing dress. She had “the look”. And so I tweeted a screenshot of her with the message:

Think I might be a little bit in love with this girl in the Question Time audience!   

I then sort of stopped watching – I was eating or doing something on the computer. Then I got a couple of tweets from other people:

Still in love?



What had I done?! It turned out that the same woman had then spoken out about education – and said she was still at school. Aaaaargh! I felt like Renton in Trainspotting after he’s made love to Diane and then, the next morning, sees her in her school uniform.

Anyway, David Dimbleby described as a woman – and the lady, called Poppy, then “liked” my original tweet, so all’s good. I need to know where that dress is from, though, because it’s gorgeous! And the little bow on the neck – this lady has some serious style.

And yet she was also trolled on Twitter. Some people just need to get a life and stop slagging off other people for sport.

This morning, I had ballet. I had been feeling really down after just not performing at all in my past couple of lessons. It seemed that, since I’d switched teachers, I’d gone backwards. Completely my fault – not that of my teacher, who is fabulous.

On Wednesday, I almost rang to say I wouldn’t make it today. Instead, I practised for an hour yesterday, going over all the moves again and again and again until I got them right. Sometimes, that was 10 or 12 times – but I persisted until I got them bang on.

Me today – or at least that’s how I felt

So I felt a lot more confident walking into class this morning – and if you feel confident when you step on to that dance floor, that’s half the battle.

And I don’t want to brag, but I nailed it – pretty much every move. The warm-up went well and my grand degages, which I usually struggle with, were described as “perfect”.

Perfection! Ha ha! :o)

Everything at the barre went really well and Miss Anna was getting quite excited by this point. She’d said to me “You’re not a disaster…” last week. I was an utter disaster!

But this week, I couldn’t put a foot wrong. Into the centre. I half expected things to go wrong – but they didn’t.

I started with the arm exercise and I nailed it. My second position arms were good, I remembered all the moves, my fingers were good and I even moved my head, just as you should.

Huge shrieks from Miss Anna afterwards – and a massive hug. She had that “proud face” that Miss Joanne used to wear before I became rubbish a few weeks back.

“You’re a pro!” she said. Yeeeeeah, this was better than “not a disaster”!

On to the allegro warm-up, which I’d practised parrot-style the night before, and I nailed that as well – more hugs and massive smiles! Even talk of getting a distinction in the exam, but I doubt I will.

And then preparatory glissades, which I’d had such trouble with last week. Again, these went really well – I just need to work on the end.

I’ve written before about how wonderful it feels when ballet touches your soul. I’d not felt that for a few weeks and was wondering if I’d ever get my mojo back, but that feeling was there in abundance today. I felt deliriously happy as I walked out of the dance school. One of my best lessons – if not THE best.

And then it was time for lunch, which I shall write about in my next post.

Andie xxx


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