My birthday. I am 15 now. I feel big on the inside but small on the outside. I wonder if I will always feel this small and young. In one way, I hope so. Then I can stay younger longer. Time flies. I wonder what I will be doing and who I will be when I am 18. I’ll have to just live a day at a time. It’s probably for the best.
Saturday. Lord, it’s exactly 10 days since I wrote. I sure have a lot to write. But guess what I did today? I auditioned at the Opera Ballet. I have danced at the Opera Ballet! My number was H1. We get an answer in 2 weeks. I wasn’t nervous till afterwards. So long for now. See you in the morning. Good night. – Nina
Now I am sitting on a bench and waiting for the train to come and take me to ballet. These endless trains. I am so glad I am going to move. Not that I would be glad to move from the Opera Ballet should I get in. But everything else. The trains, Central Station, gross people stumbling around with beer cans, tagging along after people, and that horrible, horrible school where nothing is fun. One doesn’t dare to speak to anyone at anytime about anything. All those stupid girls that walk around painting their faces and talking about clothes, and parties and who think that they can decide what everyone else should wear. As soon as you don’t have tight enough jeans, they whisper. I will be relived not to be tormented by Assyrian men. I’ll explain more later. Too many people around me right now.
The audition for the Opera Ballet.
Number H1. I went to the 3rd level foyer. Karin and Carina were there. Typical, I thought. I wasn’t nervous though. Mom and Dad came along. The exam was 40 minutes delayed. Then they opened the doors. There were at least 20 judges. I was so scared for the improvisation part of the exam. But this was different. We did a regular ballet class instead. During the lesson, the judges asked me to do a demi-plié. I guess they were checking turnout. Svalberg was in the middle of all the judges. When I was going to do waltz steps, it didn’t go so well. I think that’s why I didn’t get in.
No, I didn’t get in… This is how the letter read:
To guardians of Katarina Thorsen (H1), regarding completion of audition for the Opera Ballet student program, Saturday April 23, 1977. We regret to inform you that we cannot offer a position to your son/daughter in our student school. We thank you for your interest.
THE ROYAL THEATRE BALLET SCHOOL
Do you think this meant that there was no room for me? That if they had had room, I would have gotten in? Svalberg signed it himself. But I won’t give up. I read about a ballerina that didn’t get into the Opera Ballet and now she dances in Leningrad.
My Diary, 1977 SÖDERTÄLJE– translated from Swedish, word for word, unabridged, sic, ad nauseum
Recall first post: My Diary 1977
For January 1977 go to: Snippets from my 1977 Diary, Part 1, January
For February 1977 go to: Snippets from my 1977 Diary, Part 2 February
For March 1977 go to: Snippets from my 1977 Diary Part 3, March