dancin'. dancin'. DANCIN'!

...like in the Svedka Vodka commercial...

I'm back in BCS after a lengthy sojourn in DFW, and what better way to celebrate my homecoming than with dancing! My friends, Katy and Charity, basically held me at gunpoint until I tearfully agreed to take a 10 week jazz class with them. Okay, by "gunpoint" I mean "they made it sound like a really fun idea." And it starts tonight! Ominous or exciting? You be the judge...

Here's the rub; my feet have not entered a proper dance studio since I was 17. Gasp! That's over 9 years and 11 months ago!!! Rarely have a I heard dance technique likened to riding a bike. In fact, I wouldn't advise anyone to put money on me even remembering how to ride a bike. It may not be pretty.

I'll tell you what else won't be pretty in the realm of fashion...my decade old jazz shoes that I insist on recycling. I reckon newer, more cutting edge models are enhancing much younger dancers' technique, but I'll be sporting these beauties...

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I risked life and limb hoisting myself up into a darkened attic, which I've never entered, on top of a drink cooler which was supported by a less than stable end table-type-thingy in a desperate effort to save money and find my once "top of the line" jazz shoes. I'm wearin' 'em!