Stay young, Go dancing

Adventures have been abounding, sirs, okay and madams but I'm real keen on the word sir. Hence why I have been off the radar for a few days--I should never be too busy to write--but alas I have been taking loads of mental notes just for you.

I have a couple leads on apartments, but have taken a brief hiatus on looking and have instead thrown all my energy into the job world. I mean, I need an income-- that's pretty significant. Here is what I have interviews for thus far:

A dog walker
A ballet instructor

Okay, in all fairness I have always wanted to be a dog walker. It is a bit of a footloose and fancy-free job that I feel I would be quite adept at. So the ballet instructor part though... Yeah, ahem, I am not proficient in ballet. I took one class, though I do feel I was the star performer, I am in no way fit to teach, however I indicated this on my application, that I could learn. And apparently they still considered me! But I was told to come prepared with a two minute routine. And here is when I nearly vomited in my mouth and instantly started picturing that episode of I Love Lucy, where she tries to learn ballet and looks like an uncoordinated floppy fish as her body convulses trying to keep up with the tempo.

That would be me. Two whole minutes of performance! I would just be hopping up and down on my toes and waving my arms like a complete buffoon! How embarrassing. A part of me still contemplated going, as wouldn't that make for some hilarious tales... But I don't think I can stand to be that mortified, trying to impress a NYC dance instructor with my non-skill and lack of rhythm. It doesn't help that my trainer from home told me on a regular basis that it was imperative that I get rhythm before moving to NY and was rather exasperated with me every time I attempted some form of it in my exercise routine. Cue floppy fish.

I don't have it! And my sweet friends in college pointed out that I was the prime candidate for tripping the light fantastic. So is it any wonder I am self-conscious about my dancing skills? Although I will admit, for ballet you need poise and grace and I for one think I am the epitome of those two things. Sort of.

And speaking of dance, I may not burst into a routine on the subway, though a part of me is sorely tempted and as soon as I purchase my tambourine I am going to-- don't think I won't! But I had this weird epiphany the other day. I have always been wildly aware of my awkwardness and before, I suffocated it... don't dare let the world know I am a clutzy kook. Now, however, I embrace my eccentricities!

So with that said, epiphany explanation-- I was riding the rail, listening to a particularly buoyant song and i could feel my head start to bob and my thighs start to sashay. A small voice deep inside became alarmed and alerted me to the fact that I may look like a goon jiving to my music on the subway. People could take note. They might know I have no rhythm or skill. But alas, I did not care! I smothered the voice and went right on ahead with my musical expression. One guy stared. I kept bobbing. I am a New Yorker now. I do what I want.

And I dare say I may be finding rhythm! Or maybe it's just confidence... But I think that may be one better!

I had so many places I wanted to go with this blog today and I had no idea it would go here, but I like where I ended up, so more stories later? Maybe tomorrow morning we meet, same time? Cup of coffee?

Yes, yes I think I'd like that.