What was supposed to be waltzing...

Dancing is what I'd like to call a hobby of mine. I'm not official or anything. All I really do is crank up 'We Like to Party', throw on a goofy hat, and jump around my bedroom with my baby brother.
Does that count?
Either way, I love it! There's just something about it... I can't put my finger on it but what comes to mind is a quote from Elf, "Smiling is my favorite. You make me smile, that makes you my favorite."
There we go, dancing makes me smile. That's why it's one of my favorites. And that's why I decided to jump in on the church dance festival thingy.

I once joined a school dance team. Judging by practice last night, you wouldn't think so...

The dance partners were determined by where you happened to scramble into line after they said, "from the beginning!"

The partner I ended up with sent me ducking my pigtailed, little head in...silliness?...no, I don't know a good word for it. Just let me explain.

Okay so throw this guy in any card game, paintball war, sunday school lesson, or math tournament--he'll win. I went to prom with him and it didn't matter what game we played, he was the highest winner and I was the lowest loser.

I think my brain is deliberately right-sided (the creative side). Anything with rules, lines, strategies, or theroms just throws a wrench in the works. My brain just doesn't...get it. Math and science are most certainly not my fortes, just ask my lovely teachers. It's like if any stubborn block of dense information is taken before my brain and either it surrenders and takes up the creative banner, or its deliberately thrown on the 'when will I ever use this?' dungeon.
Like the other day in Human Anatomy we were learning about antibodies. It went something like this:

"Antibodies attack pathogens in many different ways. They can attack them directly,"

I suddenly had a mental picture of policemen with a big, red A on their hats tackling a villian with a big, purple P.

"Or they disembark their toxin parts."

The scene changed to the policeman handcuffing the villian and taking away his guns.

See? So in this dance thing we were learning a waltz. I hardly know my left from right and the difference between outside and inside turns and when to do them and what foot goes where and counting and...well, the whole package.

Luckily my partner did. I giggled awkwardly as I accidently spun the wrong directions until finally he grabbed me and spun me the right way. I tried to keep up with the footwork while walking backwards in a diagonal line (would you like me to also stand on my head?) and smiled apologetically when he had to push me back into place so the people behind us wouldn't plow us over. I sighed when I realized I was then going to fast and the shook my head when I learned not one, but three wrong ways to do a dip. I mean, it's one thing for a guy to do a dip wrong, but how does the girl?

That and the instructor pointed us two out very specifically on one of those darn turns! Afterwards, we got that down, but did everything else wrong.
My key phrases of the night? "Right..." "Sorry!" "Got it...I think." "Do what?" "Sorry." "Eheh, just kidding!" "Ugh, sorry!" "Ah, garsh." "...sorry..."

Oh I had so much fun! I kept laughing at his jokes and feebly trying a crack a few of my own. And I think I did finally get the jist of it all. He muttered a sorry for 'pushing me around' because we had to stay in the beat but I told him it was perfectly fine. I probably could use a little more of that anyways.

But what really made me laugh was when one of the instructors said, "Okay guys, don't be afraid to step on the girls' toes. You want to know why? Girls are smart and they'll figure out the footwork. They're graceful and very coordinated."

I felt for my poor dance partner at that moment. Graceful and coordinated my toothbrush!

So here's to being silly, here's to being a bit of an airhead, here's to being a clutz, here's to getting my toes stepped on every once in awhile, and here's to enjoying and dancing my way through it all!