I Was NOT Born To Dance


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Being a hefty kid, I never really liked to do anything… I was lazier than lazy, if there is such a thing. I didn’t like sports, or to move in any funky ways because I was clumsy in everything I did. I would walk into walls, trip on my feet, look aimlessly into space and ram into strangers everywhere I turned. Anyway, since I was getting chubbier by the day, when I was ten I guess, my mom thought it would be a good idea to enroll me in a dancing class with Rhoda-Clarice and Fanny Wood. Rhoda and Fanny were able to move in all fantastic ways while I would take just one step and hit someone in the face with my giant arms. My presence was always so large. Maybe it was because I was standing in between my two friends, and I was still one foot taller than them– combined. It wasn’t fair. I did not realize my own size and to this day, I can’t dance. Turns out dance class didn’t turn out well for me, as when they gave the diplomas, they put everyone ahead, and instead of holding me back a grade of dancers, they put me with the 5-6 year olds. Maybe that’s why I have no confidence with my dancing?

I went to Zumba last night, and Helga was in my brain thinking of excuses not to go to class. Marg kept asking me if everything was ok. I wish she wouldn’t have, because then I wouldn’t have had time to think of an excuse to get me out of class. HOWEVER, I finished the entire class, and I felt so good! I didn’t even go home and eat a cheeseburger, I ate healthy.

Sometimes I wish Beyoncé would come over and teach me how to dance like her. Damn that girl can moooooove.

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