Dance Dance Evolution

A scheduling conflict meant that I had to switch out hip hop for jazz this week. The following end-of-class convo sums up the experience nicely:

Classmate # 1: So, are you going to come back next week?

Me: Um…

Classmate #1: You should. You’ll pick it up eventually. E is an awesome teacher.  And the rest of us don’t mind.  It’s not like some classes where everyone is super competitive.

Classmate #2: There are adult classes like that?

Classmate #1: Oh, for sure. Everyone wants to be the best and pick up the choreography the fastest. And if you’re slow or no good, they…

Me: Shun you?

Classmate# 1: Yeah, pretty much.

Me: Awesome.

And then I ran out the door and all the way home.

Photo by Emily’s mind

While hip hop was all about bringing the sexy, this weird ballet/jazz hybrid hinges on being graceful. Assemblie.  Attitude. Chasse. Jete. Passe. Plie. Kill me now.

At one point, I looked over at the mirror to find that I was standing there with my face all scrunched up, biting my lip and making my patented Precious Moments expression*. God, why am I not learning to box like a normal rageaholic instead?

The one bright spot being that I’ve finally gotten Forever out of my head; it’s been replaced by Keri Hilson’s Knock You Down.

Definitely disaster over dessert, though.

*Can’t remember who first noticed the resemblance and coined this descriptor, but I find it hilarious and highly accurate.