My Hip Hop Debut!

I just did something two days ago that is worth noting. It's worth more than noting, its worth a major celebration! Despite my advanced age and a debilitating medical condition known as "moveslikeawhitegirlitis" I just danced in my very first EVER recital! I can't describe how exciting it was and how proud I am of all the women who participated.

A few months ago I got a random flier stuck on my mailbox about enrolling in a local dance class. As you might have done, my first thoughts went to 5 year olds in tutus and all things pink (which, in fact, is not an inaccurate description, but more later). There was an advertisement for an adult hip hop class that ran from September to December with a recital upon completion. The adventuresome part of me began to whisper in my ear that this could be sort of fun...maybe even REALLY fun...and maybe I'd even be good at it...and maybe I'd finally participate in a recital! By the time I had made it back to the house from the mailbox I had my phone in hand and was calling to sign up.

You may not know this, but there is one thing that significantly exacerbates "movelikeawhitegirlitis." Trying to do hip hop actually. Turns out I was starting the class 3 weeks late and had some catching up to do. Have you ever tried to dance hip hop in front of other 30 year olds who have had 3 weeks more training than you? It is just a smidge humiliating. When I asked if I could just watch a couple of times, my instructor (a young girl whose body moves like a ribbon) said "Just do it! That's the only way to learn!" So away I went. Arms flailing, legs kicking, hips swinging I let it fly as only Elaine Benice could appreciate.

There is only one way to describe how I looked those first many weeks (and I would know thanks to the wall of mirrors in the studio), and it would be that I appeared to be having a seizure. Our instuctor tried to be patient, but she is only human, and a few times the words "train wreck" and "disaster" escaped her lips. Determined, we kept practicing right up until recital the week before the recital.

There are many happy moments from my childhood, but one thing I am sorry to have missed is the brief celebrity of recitals, sporting events, and school plays. For some reason I missed most of those things growing up and it is as if my development as an adult has stalled until I could meet this developmental milestone. So, with friends and husband in tow, I had my first recital this week.

AND I WAS A TOTAL ROCK STAR.

Shaking like a leaf and sporting my biggest hoop earrings I marched onto the stage as I were a premier dancer and all these people had come to see me. I smiled, danced, I shook my booty, and had a ball. I'm sure my performance was far from perfect (possibly resembling a mild fender bender rather than a full on trainwreck), but it was completely exhilerating. Through this experience I feel somehow jettisoned into readiness for the next milestone every girl must go through, whatever that may be. Now that I have danced in the glamorous company of a hundred pink tutus, feather boas, and tap shoes I think perhaps my next adventure will be closer to home. This summer be sure to take a drive by my house, as it may just be time for my first lemonade stand.

(Will post video in a few days!)