01 July 2008

About the Dancing

NaBloPoMo is typically November, but, they've decided to try out a "post every day for a year" concept. I decided not to join in, though they are offering a "theme" for each month. So, if you notice a lot of "Food" posts this month it is because this month's theme is food. I might just attempt to post daily about food, but if I have something better to say, I'm definitely going to say it.

Oh, and I totally like food. Especially: Really Good Food. More on that soon.

*the above is my official July 1 mention of food*

So, I said I'd write something about dancing. And, really, I'd kinda like to do some more writing about my past, my childhood, and just some general insight on who I am today based on my past experiences. We'll see how that works out.

Memories of my childhood are spotty at best. I don't have those clear, beautiful memories of youth a lot of people seem to have. Yet, some experiences in my adult life will cause little flashbulb memories to go off in my head. Almost like Polaroid photographs, I have feelings, concepts, and little clips of memory.

Hearing CSB talk about deciding to dance with Bruno/Newcastle last year made me happy. Watching him dance, and seeing the smile on his face literally put butterflies in my stomach. Then I started to wonder... why is this making me so happy?

Yes, I love seeing my friends do things they love. I love seeing someone I care so much about doing something that makes him happy. I am a very empathetic person, and really enjoy that facet of my personality (even when it's difficult, and it often is). But, there seems to be more to this, I can feel it.

When I was in elementary school, I participated in plays, talent shows, and dance recitals, I was in chorus, and even played the recorder and then clarinet for a while. I, apparently, was not a natural at any of this. I remember "being" Susan B. Anthony for some kind of historic re-enactment/history project, and telling people all about "my life and times." I remember rehearsing to recite The Raven (Poe) for a talent show (fifth grade), auditioning to be a two-headed black widow spider (my own idea) for a nightmare sequence in a play (sixth grade - they offered "two headed unicorn, and I told them to suck it), and rehearsing Puck's monologue from Midsummer Night's Dream for an audition (seventh grade).

I remember being so excited about doing these things.
I remember wanting them so badly (I wanted to be Puck so bad I could taste it).
I remember wanting to be not just good but AMAZING.
I remember not living up to my own standards, and being so upset and stressed out that I made myself physically ill.

I remember a couple of dance classes.
I remember overhearing the teacher mention that maybe I should try out for "a sport" instead of dancing.
I remember not being good enough for myself.
I remember being embarrassed, and learning to make jokes to cover up for that self-consciousness.
I remember wanting the people who loved me to be proud, yet being too embarrassed to strive for goodness, so I gave up trying.

Flash forward a couple of years. High school. I knew a couple of people in each clique, and somehow find myself taking drama classes. I dive behind the scenes and the computer geek in me absolutely loves being involved in the lighting. Yet, during all the shows, I would sit and whisper every line... I knew the show inside and out, and didn't have faith enough in myself to get up on that stage and do what I wanted to do. So I ran the light board. And, I did a great job, always proud of myself for a job well done, yet, not exactly where I wanted to be.

And, if we're seriously going over 'dancing' related issues, I could mention that at my wedding, my ex-husband refused to dance. He was forced into the "first dance," but beyond that he was out drinking and smoking with the boys. He took me to my senior prom, and we danced once that night (because I begged). Not that we didn't have fun. Just that I can count on one hand every time he danced with me, and I had to force him into it. Even married, I was that girl sitting on the side, wanting to dance with someone special.... wishing someone special wanted to dance with me.

This is where I could, maybe even should, mention Newcastle Country Dancing. How for so many years I only danced when I was alone... that way it didn't matter what I was doing, and no one could judge me. But, if you've read some of my past notes, you know I've been enjoying it, and now you are seeing that it has meaning.

Flash forward to last weekend, a decent slow song comes on, and I say to CSB, "I'd like to dance at least once tonight." Next thing I know he is up and we are on the dance floor. Things are happening all around me, I mean, I know they are, but only when I think back on it later. In the moment he is the only one in the world (incidentally, I've realized this is why we 'aren't allowed' to country dance together, I can't focus on the things happening around me).

Near the end of the song, I hear him say, "are you ready?"
For the first time in my life I know what is coming, the dip.
And, I'm ready.


Anonymous said...

:::Sigh::: I miss you, Giddy. I'm really looking forward to coming up to Northern this year and dancing with you. BTW, next spring you *will* come south and you *will* dance with us.
Even if I have to foot the bill.
Which would be totally worth it.

Lia Hollander said...