Dance Yrself Lean

I think I'm in love with my dance instructor.
I started my first class last night and it was SO much fun. When I walked into the dance complex, there was an African Drum Beat class downstairs, and a tap class in the studio before my class meets. It felt so good - as a mediocre dancer - to be surrounded by all those talented dancers.
My class is taught by the sassiest of sassy men, who wore a bright yellow bandanna on his head and big diamond stud earrings. He came into the class and immediately started Irish Tap Dancing, and then flipped on the stereo, where much to my delight, Beyonce started playing.
Due to the name of my class, we did a lot butt stretches. At one point, we all had to bend over in front of the instructor, at which point I'm pretty sure he was assessing (get it?) where we are now, and how we will compare at the end of class.
We learned a few combinations, he taught us how to walk sexy towards the mirror to get a boy's attention, and then pivot around as if to say, in his words, "Nuh-uh, boi, you took too long. I'm outta here!" The best part about that, is there is this one older couple there who also had to do the sexy walk. The wife showed up to class wearing a bottom up Oxford, and jean cargo shorts, and the husband had his beer belly hanging low. It didn't matter, though, everyone had such a great time and just laughed through the whole class. My trunk's pretty sore today, but it was so worth it.

I May or May Not Have ...

... just signed up for a dance class called Jazz Funk to Tighten the Trunk.

Everybody Dance Now

All day yesterday I was still sore from my night with the trainer, but I decided to power through with a Power Dance class at NYSC.
It took a lot of motivation because it was snowing horizontally on the walk to the gym - and I had a hole in my boot. I didn't know what to expect when I got there, but heard that it might be tough because sometimes the classes rotate in fours where they work on one dance routine every four weeks.
When I lined up for the class, I saw some people that looked like professional dancers. (I know what professional dancers look like because I own "Center Stage" and "Save the Last Dance" on DVD.) I even saw a guy that was wearing real dance shoes and what appeared to be the bottom half of a figure-skating costume - he wasn't hiding ANY secrets.
Before the class started, I was talking with another girl who had never taken the class before so we made a pact to stay together, and to keep going back week after week. The (male) instructor walked in wearing a circa early '90s Janet Jackson tour T-shirt and some very tight yoga pants. He said hello to a lot of the dancers who had been taking his class for awhile, some for as long as four years. He said, "Hi guys! Hi newbies! Just to let you know, I won't be dancing with you tonight because I just had a face lift and lipo the other day - don't want to pop a stitch!"
We started stretching, doing crunches, going through the positions of ballet (thanks again, Center Stage!).
I had so much fun in the class, I'm still on the high. I forgot how much I love to dance, learn routines and be sassy in front of a mirror. Plus, we danced to the best songs in the world.