I know this title seems a bit strange. Battling a dance floor? Euphoria Girl?? She lives for dancing! It’s true. I’m dancing right now as I write this post (these coffee shop patrons are eyeing me suspiciously). I am referring, of course, to the more intimate dancing: Dancing with a partner, which you may recall from posts past, makes me anxious and vomity. If you are a long-time reader, you know that combining partner dancing with say, the two-step, and you are most likely to find me hiding under tables.
Last night I was a very Texas bar listening to a very Texas band and watching couples dancing the two-step like they were having the times of their lives. I was not dancing with them. I strategically hid myself so as to avoid anyone even thinking I am the right person to ask to dance. Ever.
Then I met one of my twitter friends. He came to my show on my recommendation and had shocked his 17 year old son with the overwhelming coolness he was exuding by heading downtown on a Saturday night to hear a kick ass band. “My resolution is to go out more and hear more live music,” he told his son. And there he was, standing in a crowd of drunk cowboys and delighting in the incredible live music pouring from the stage, being awesome at life and living his resolution.
I was cowering behind tables and tall people.
Suddenly, through the crowd, someone asked me to dance. THE TWO-STEP (actually, I only assume it was the two-step. I ended up mostly shuffling). So I said yes. I was nervous and flustered and glad that this nice fella seemed to be as bad a dancer as I am. And you know what? I survived. I might have even sort of a little bit enjoyed it. I certainly wasn’t relaxed. That will take time.
I am a Texan now, and plan on being one for a while. I think it’s about time that I conquer my fears and learn to two-step and ENJOY it. Because those drunken cowboys probably were having the time of their lives and if my twitter friend can shock his son, I can shock myself and dance.
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