. . . with dance. It feels good to have a new love - and one that won't hurt me. I had my second private lesson this week. Bob, my instructor, asked me what I wanted to do, and I didn't really care, so I said waltz because during my first lesson I remember him telling me that he really likes it. That was the only thing we did. He corrected my right hand over and over, and he tried to teach me that count one = drive, count two = sway or swing (I can't recall what the term was that he used because when he explained it I said, "Oh - anticipate," and he said, "Yes!" and we talked about that word for it, so that's what stuck.), and count three = rise and drop/fall (once again, I can't recall the exact words - uggh! I mean, I don't think you care, but I do - what if he quizzes me about it next week?). We practiced several times, and then he would say, "Yes? How do you feel about that?" and I would say, "I kind of get it, but I think I need to do it over and over and over." Which is what I need - I need to practice it a thousand times, and then maybe I will dance the steps like they are supposed to be danced. He taught me that you are supposed to feel like you are moving backward when you step forward, and there was this time where I think he really helped me do that, and it felt so incredible. And I was high for the rest of the evening, and I wanted to keep practicing.
My groupon includes one "Practice Party," which is a dance they hold most Fridays. All of the dances are posted on lists throughout the room; I would imagine it is so you don't have to wonder what it is if you're not so good at distinguishing them, like me. I was planning on saving my dance for the end of my private lessons, but Bob told me he expected to see me there, and he didn't accept the excuses I made, so I decided to go tonight. It was great! I didn't dance the whole evening; in fact, I sat there for most of it. However, I did dance a little at the beginning and a little at the end. One of the instructors danced with me, and even though I stink, he told me that I do have a good frame (which is part of what Bob has worked on with me). Another man I danced with (who was pretty good) told me the same thing, so that gives me hope that I have something kind of okay. There were a couple of nice men who were really patient when they asked me for dances that I don't know or am particularly challenged at, like west coast swing. Warren did that one with me a lot, and that was probably my saving grace on that dance tonight. The last dance was bachata - one of my favorite Latin dances. I had thought of asking Bob if he would do that one with me, but I ended up asking this guy that I had danced with earlier. I think he said he didn't know it, but it's really easy (probably why I like it so much), and we didn't get fancy with it, so it went alright.
I kept hoping Bob would notice me and come dance with me, but I don't think he did for most of the evening. Watching him dance with other people - especially those who are more proficient - was interesting, though. He looks really good out there - smooth - like butter. There was one time that this woman pointed out a couple of sets of instructors who were dancing a bolero, and I really enjoyed watching one of the couples. So beautiful.
Bob finally did notice me, and he danced with me a couple of times. We danced 2 step the first time, which he hasn't taught me, but fortunately the basic step for that is not hard, and I've done it before. I think I came out of one of my shoes on that one - oops! He told me that I'm ready to go dance at this bar that plays country stuff (too bad I don't like country). The second one was cha-cha, and he kind of "Ba, ba, ba-ba-ba"-ed it, probably for my benefit.
And so I have discovered that I do like to dance. In fact, I think I'm in love with it. I haven't felt this excited about something for a long time - not since I took African history maybe, and that was years ago (Yes, I am a nerd, but you already know that). It brings joy to my soul. It makes a wonderful deposit into my emotional bank account. It gives me energy and renewal. And I haven't felt like I've had many deposits for kind of a long time, so maybe that's why it's so exciting to me. If the honeymoon doesn't end before my lessons do, it's going to be a sad Jamie that last day.
Not only that, but I didn't realize how much I lucked out on getting Bob. During last night's lesson I thought I overheard one of the other instructors telling her students that Bob was co-owner of the place, but I wasn't sure if I heard correctly. Tonight, when other people there would ask me who my instructor was, after hearing my reply I got responses like, "Wow. All the way to the top, huh?" "You mean, Bob, like, Bob who owns this place. Wow. He doesn't usually take new students." Etc. It makes me feel more intimidated - and more lucky. And it's going to make it even harder for me to say, "I can't. You don't know how badly I want to continue taking lessons, but I can't afford it," because it sounds like I've lucked out on landing him as an instructor. I definitely feel like he's a good teacher. He explains things in ways that make sense, and dancing with him is really fun. He's so good that he makes up for me stinking so bad. However, I noticed that coaching (which is different from private lessons, I believe) from him is $80 for one hour. ONE hour - $80. Do you see why I feel so sad? I'm thinking I need to get a second job. I need to write a best-seller. Something. If you have any ideas or are independently wealthy and feel like sponsoring me in what could be a passion in life (and I don't have many of those), let me know.