Take a bow...

The dance show has finally been and gone, and already I'm missing the shrill screaming of the baby ballet group trying to be first in line for the glitter spray, not to mention Mr Clearly Gay tap dancer trying to steal my eye-shadow.

I've had a fabulous week in rehearsal, spending every waking minute thinking about lighting and costumes. My adult stage debut was hardly a roaring success, but it's passed without major incident (barring one massive stumble in a pirouette on the only night my family were in the audience).

I cannot believe I didn't get into this before. I adored every second of being on stage, knowing that there were 150 people who'd paid to watch me (and the other dance school students) perform. I'm already signed up to continue with ballet for the next term, as well as starting jazz (tomorrow! Can't wait!)

I still have my stage make-up on, so I look like a clown, pretty much, but I'm loath to take it off cos I love the whole effect with my neon dance clothes and leg warmers.

Here's hoping that Scotland has adult dance classes!!

To the pointe

Ballet starts again tonight! I am possibly the least graceful or elegant person you'll ever meet. No sense of timing, rhythm, balance.

But at every opportunity my toes are pointed. I wear thin flats at work so whenever no-one is looking, I can stand en-pointe. Badly.

The show is, like, four weeks away and I am terrified. I don't know the routine properly, and I still struggle with some of the moves. I can't do a consistent pirouette to save my life. Argh!

I'm not a natural performer. I only started ballet less than a year ago. I'm unfit. I'm the wrong shape. I'm the shy-body. But I am longing to prove myself.

To prove to myself that I can dance. To prove to myself that I am good at creative things as well as academic.

So I can continue to pretend to be a female version of Billy Elliot when I'm alone, that I'm not just kidding myself that I can dance. So when someone asks, "do you dance?" I can say "Yes. I performed in my dance school's show this year."

So if you happen to be at an amateur dance show in a few weeks time, spare a thought for that tall, awkward looking dancer. The one looking at her fellow dancers, not the audience. The one stumbling through the moves. The one half a beat behind the rest of the group.

She'll be loving every minute.