I did it!
I marched right into Arthur Murray last night, dropped a whole whack of change, and bought myself 10 weeks of dancesport happiness. For the next two and a half months, I will lilt and sway; I will dip and delight; I will be the original source of Cuban motion. No longer will I have to live in a world without tango. No longer will I be forced to spend my days confined to swinging my foot under my desk in order to express my body's reaction to music.
Oh yes. I will dance again. And it will be sensational.
* * *
In other news... this coming full moon doesn't bode well for me. A friend of a friend has organised a get-together for all of the single dames in her world. We're all going to Biermarkt on Saturday - a shameless meat market of a joint downtown - with the idea that we will dance, and we will mingle, and we will have a grand old time. However, said friend, Energizer Bunny that she is, has taken on the role of social director, and has decided to make it a project. She will reel these boys in, and start up conversations, and generally make sure that personal timidity doesn't stand in the way of meeting someone interesting. I'm afraid. I'm afraid for two very valid reasons.
(A) Iíve got a bad visual of getting prodded into a conversation with a lovely fellow who can only think of getting the hell away.
(B) It's a full moon on Saturday. Everyone knows that you're never going to go far with someone you meet on a full moon.
Oh, all right. One very valid reason. Leave me alone.
* * *
Thank you, my darlings, for rushing to my aid yesterday with the song. Ain't No Sunshine, by Bill Withers will be my nest musical purchase. Right along with Bridge Over Troubled Waters by Clay Aiken and Flying Without Wings by Ruben Studdart. Because I'm silly that way. But you knew that.
And that's all for today, poppets. Tune in next time to find out whether Mare fell on her precious arse after her first dance lesson in over two years.
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