I'm bad at dancing.
It's a shame, too, because when you're tall and thin and have a neck like a flag pole, people tend to automatically think you're great at ballet. And I am, up to a point (pointe? hee hee, french dance humor!). If I'm standing still, I'm a wonderful dancer. I know where to position my leg, how to point my foot, and thanks to Center Stage, know to lift my arms from the base instead of from the top. But once I hear my music cue and I actually have to start moving? It's like a National Geographic special when a herd of lions takes down a giraffe, except the lions are invisible so it's just me, the tragic giraffe, flailing around trying to avoid a violent death. Seriously.
So this week will be devoted to dancing. Friend Megan has a dance blog tailored for people who don't usually dance (like actors, singers and carpenters), and I've picked up enough tips there so far to feel almost confident enough to approach the outside of the building where dance classes are held. It's only Monday- by Friday I will have speed-conquered my fear of being around other dancers, and I WILL take a ballet class at Broadway Dance Center!
For proof of how non-dancery my dancing is, check this out (to see it in its full widescreen glory, double-click on the video while I go find out what's wrong with my blog template):