July 11, 1997

For some weird reason, I've been hearing a lot about "dancing"; in the movies, a conversation with a friend, a book even. A song comes on, and someone comments that it had the right sort of tempo for a such-and-such dance. Not too fast, so no big swings, just the right "dum-dum-de-da".

I can only raise my eyebrows a little bit and go, "Mm."

I took ballet lessons as a child, and I sheepishly admit that I was no different from the stereotyped little girl: I, too, at one time fantasized about being a world famous ballerina. I constantly tip-toed, went through routine steps (of which names I've long forgotten!) and did the exercises that were supposed to keep me agile. Over the next three years, my interest went on to other things... and that was the end of my affiliation with dancing.

I really don't know what happened. Had it not been those lessons, I would be positive that I was born not only with two left feet--but left feet that were put on backwards! Maybe as I rejected ballet, the world of "dancing" rejected me. I haven't a clue.

There have been attempts to "re-train" my feet, usually by sympathetic friends who can't believe I have not yet "joined the beat". I know, I know, even my own mother can dance. But all I've received are muffled snickers and appalled looks. And then there was that time when I turned just a little too hard, and pulled a muscle that nearly put me in bed for days. (I'll admit, that's an exaggeration there ;) )

It's a harsh word out there for those who do not dance. Imagine going to those famous parties.. and trying to time your "restroom" visits just before someone asks, "How come you're not dancing?" Oh, the dreaded question..and worse still, the horror of all confessions. I made a mistake once and allowed a friend to try to teach me what she called a "simple" step at a party. Big mistake. 'Nuff said.

Somethings, I suppose, are just simply best not explored.

Oh, pity me not. I've come to terms with it. Any functions which include dancing, I've prepared a hundred and one excuses, ranging from, "Oh, this isn't my sort of song," to, "Oh, I made a silly mistake of walking to the grocery store.. Now my feet just simply ache." Besides, I'm really doing all of you a favor. I'm just my doing my job in ensuring that the dance floor is a safe place for foot work.

[Note: Certain facts have been embellished slightly for entertainment... really! ;) ]

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