musings

Some people are born to dance…. I’m not one of them

Tonight is Nic’s and my last dance class. To date, we have learned tango, waltz, and that which we will be finishing up tonight, fox trot.

After 8 weeks of classes that were supposed to enable us to dance at our wedding, I can say with confidence that the experience was a complete and utter failure. We cannot dance worth a damn, and will not be doing anything more complicated than a slow dance at our wedding.
Sure we had fun… at the beginning. When we started out, it was excited, it was new… and it was something different to do on a Thursday night that eat in front of the television.
The first few weeks was tango. The music was beautiful, but somehow, we could never move as smoothly as the dance teachers. Then came the waltz. I thought it would be easier than tango – turns out the waltz is more technical, and, overall, much more difficult. We were taught moves and turns that I already don’t remember. By the time the fox trot came around, I had had enough. My failure to learn to dance has caught up with me and I didn’t feel like dancing anymore.
I never expected to become a full-blown dancing diva by the time the eight weeks ended. But I expected to get a bit more than I did. It’s not the dance teachers’ faults. I just have to accept that I will always be useless on the dance floor, just like I was when I was six and my ballet teacher went up to my mom at the end of the class to tell her that I was totally inflexible and danced as well as a toad would.
Oh well.
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