



Last night, while our Olympians were championing golds at every turn, I was turning on the old dance floor at Fred Astaire. When a friend invited me to join her for a ballroom lesson, I agreed with some hesitation. Me! The one with a strict no-dancing-in-public EVER policy. I figure it’s time I peel myself off the wall and join the rest of the human race on the linoleum.
My fancy-foot fear began in middle school when I refused to be a part of cotillion. I cringed at the idea of formal dress, of etiquette class, and of having to dance WITH BOYS. I wouldn’t have it. I put my foot down.
I survived high school without ever having attended a single dance, saving myself the embarrassment of what would only have been flailing attempts. So, imagine my horror when I stepped onto the dance floor last night with the painted-on smiley faces of the disco-balled dance studio. I had my fair share of mess ups; I spent some serious time staring at my brown flats (which I now realize could use a good shining). Thankfully, it was a safe place, where I was not only accepted for my spastic nature, but I was in good company. It’s just a matter of time before I’m dancing circles around Ginger.
| frenchie | Go Girl!
Posted Fri, 08/15/2008 - 13:37
Way to be brave! That sounds like so much fun. I grew up watching Fred Astaire films and I do believe he was one of first loves, along with Elvis of course :)
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| getaclewis | Cory, I used to be the
Posted Fri, 08/15/2008 - 14:03
Cory, I used to be the director of this that or the other at a country club and one of my roles was planning - and participating in - social events. I was a nervous wreck during the ballrooom dancing class held there... but swooned as an older gentleman swept me off my feet and amazed me with his effortless cadence. Sometimes all that matters is your partner's skill (& patience)! "Trust Life's unfolding..."
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