No, I haven't decided to post more. My life is just that much more exciting this week. Quit inviting me to stuff.
So our church had a dance last Saturday night with a it's-not-a-valentine's-dance-despite-all-the-hearts-and-crap-you-see-everywhere theme. Greta and I decorated for the event and were quite pleased to receive so many positive comments. And by "so many" I mean two grade school kids said it looked awesome. Hey, we're here to please.
You all know my thoughts on dancing, as I've expressed them in the past here. Bonny and I were comparing our various thoughts on the subject later in the evening and I told her what I'm going to tell you now: watching me dance is a terribly unsettling experience. I recall enjoying dancing at one point in my life. I danced at a wedding once as a young teenager, later saw the video, decided it was the most disturbing thing I'd ever seen in my life, and vowed to never subject another to such a sight ever again, including myself. I am not a good dancer. If I honestly can't resist the beat of a great song, I'll bob my head. Otherwise...no. So I sat at a table and instead enjoyed myself immensely watching other people who are far more talented than I dance for my personal pleasure. I was especially impressed with Jody and her husband getting their groove on, because they are wonderful dancers. I was also fascinated to learn that neither Stephanie nor Kristen have any shame at all whatsoever. Good for them, I say! Let it all hang out!
Towards the end, our DJ, Ryan (who happens to be Bonny's husband), played one of the songs I'd requested earlier: The Hustle by Van McCoy. You can't go wrong with The Hustle. The Husband was at one time quite the bar-hopping dancer in his day and when I mentioned the song earlier he treated me to a move or two. As always, I was delighted. As I sat next to a friend at the table at the dance, she leaned over and said, "Hey, wasn't there a dance that went with this song?" I said, "Yeah, the Husband said it went something like this..." and I proceeded to do a jerking arm motion or two to prove to her I wasn't lying. Two seconds later, Ryan stopped the music mid-song and inquired, "OK, does anyone actually know how to do the Hustle? I mean, besides Abby who's doing it at the table there at the back?" I was horrified that the entire dance floor of people then turned to stare at me, and even more so when he suggested I get up and teach them how to do the Hustle, which as I've explained, I only know like, two moves from. Personally, I was impressed that Ryan guessed what I was attempting to do at the time, let alone that he noticed I was doing it at all, given the quick and amateurish performance I had displayed to my table partner. I waved him and the whole fricking group off (really, for their own good) and they proceeded to dance however they wanted to, which is how it should have been anyway. I still like the song. Gets my head a-bobbin'.
Finally, DJ Ryan came to the end of the evening with his final as-yet unannounced song, and commanded everyone that this would be a full participation song. And I shivered to myself as I realized that there was only one song that had not been played yet, would be reserved to the end of a dance full up with white people, and that requires "full participation." Ryan said, "And that includes you, too, Abby." I responded, "IT BETTER NOT BE YMCA." And he said, "It IS YMCA." And the dance ended on a low note. I was curious to note that Kristen, who I mentioned was completely devoid of any self-consciousness as far as I could detect, also refused to dance to YMCA because she hates that song. So she has my approval, both for that and the fact that she clearly doesn't care what people think of her.
And in case you all were curious: