Mas Que Nada

You'll never guess what I did last night. Uh, actually, you probably will!

I sambaed!

The last time I danced Latin was probably, oh, early last September. I haven't danced standard since last July. I am not sure if I have truly missed the well- (or not-so-well) disguised awkwardness that is my standard, but Latin is another story. Jive is fun, but I closely associate it with being exhausted, and I am the least experienced in it. Rumba, when it works, is like eating chocolate while floating underwater. I feel like a sea creature. And there are few things more scintillating than chacha, but one of those few things is samba.

I was also curious about Inga's new studio, Elite Ballroom (not too crazy about that site, but us designers are heartless and have no patience with marketing strategy. And, I guess that's Robertas' hand up over his head in the main graphic? Looks like a crown...). I'd heard from other dancers that it was fabulous, and I have to admit that 50% of my wanting to go to the lesson last night was to check out the new place. 35% or so was desire to dance, and 15% was an interest in seeing people I haven't met up with in months.

Well, I got to see some people. One person, with whom I am quite familiar, completely ignored my existence, which was slightly weird, but whatever. I have some theories, but it's much harder to decode the reactions of introverts than extroverts. Introverts are also allowed to get away will all sorts of awkwardness in my book. Everybody else was welcoming. And, customarily, the first thing Inga did when she worked with me one-on-one was grab my hips and force them into unnatural positions.

You might find it interesting to know that sometimes I can be so competitive that it makes me unhappy. This morning, I forced myself to remove a blog from my RSS feed because the author gets my hackles up - not because she's ornery or opinionated, but because she's so driven. I want to compete with her somehow, but there's no conceivable way for me to do so, and no reason to do so! Lots of people are motivated by driven people; I just chomp at the bit, impotently posturing and grrrr-ing because I can't arm wrestle or footrace them or get better grades than they can. :D