The Post That Sparked a Blog...

This is the conversation in my head that sparked this blog. Hold on to your hats, boys and girls; it's about to get interesting!

For those who just sort of know me, you know that I watch dancing shows and movies (and by shows, I mean SYTYCD and ABDC) and occasionally find myself sucked in to YouTube videos of my favorite choreographers/dancers/music.

For those who know me a fair amount, you know that I want to be a dancer. In fact, you know (whether you agree or not) that I think, given the chance, I could be an excellent contemporary or ballet dancer.

For those who really know me and accept my crazy, you know that I secretly dance around the house pretending I am a dancer. This would include the two or three people I've lived with that I've made stand and watch me prance (mom, dad, brother, etc.) and the two or three people I've lived with that have just caught me "dancing."

Regardless of the group you fall into, you will all have the same update into my dancing life in just a few words. I. Cannot. Be. A. Dancer.

There, I said it. I have accepted it. I'm not happy about it, but I've accepted it. This revelation came to me as I was pirouetting (I don't even know if that's a thing) in my bathroom amidst my dirty clothes on the floor, the door that my foot promptly hit when I attempted to straighten it over my head (I got halfway), and the "fan light" that makes me look tanner.

I am heartbroken, but I will survive. (Cue singing) And while I have accepted the fact that I will never be great, a select few of you may still be able to steal a glimpse of my far-fetched dreams as I spin around the kitchen in socks, jump and do the splits in the air (well, not the full splits, of course), or point my toes while watching TV. Cherish those moments.

And to those of you who can dance, I hate you (and by "I hate you," I of course mean, "I desperately want to learn to dance.")