Secret 16…I can’t dance to save my life
Posted under 30 Secrets in 30 Days, People I love
Go on...I dare you...
Care to dance? Fancy a spin round the dancefloor with me? Spin me, twirl me, jitterbug and whirl me…let’s bop, let’s jive, let’s shimmy and shake…let’s strut our stuff until our big fat ankles ache…
Oooh I’m getting all poetic. Rhyming ‘n’ everfink. So do you? Care to take a spin with me and dance like there’s nobody watching? Well, you’d better pray nobody is watching if you’re dancing with me because, frankly, it’s embarrassing.
You know those awkward looking souls always hugging the edge of the dance floor, swaying and rocking and jigging from foot to foot whilst throwing murderous glances in the direction of the cool kids who really know how to throw some shapes? Yup, that’s me, I’m one of those.
I’m actually very peeved that the cool dancing gene passed me by as, in my head, I can really trip the light fantastic, man, I’m on fire on the dance floor. My mother was a ballet/tap/modern dance teacher so surely I should be able to manage a bit of disco dancing? But, no, my entire repertoire consists of (a) the shuffle (b) the sway and (c) what can only be described as ‘the lurch, with pointing’.
Alcohol doesn’t improve matters, quite the opposite. All it does is unleash an inner, deep belief that I am a brilliant disco dancer. Enter a new Spud dance in to the equation which is ‘the lurch, with pointing, AND SINGING ALONG LOUDLY’ even though I never know the words. Oh no…I’m blushing now as I remember Discos of Yore and my shambolic performances.
Alas said discos were not in some village hall in my youth. Oh no, I’m talking about work functions and many, many of them. I’m surprised I’m still in employment actually. There may even have been an episode of AIR GUITAR, complete with something tied around my head, on a balcony in the ballroom of the Waldorf hotel, with an audience of all 700 partners of the law firm I worked for at the time. Shudder.
MrSpud is pretty ‘special’ on the dancing front too. He compliments my ‘lurching with pointing’ attempts with a kind of ‘hobbit’ dancing. He likes to dance alone, and can generally be found wheeling around the corners of the dance floor, slightly hunched over like someone’s just punched him in the stomach complete with low moaning (I think that’s him singing though). Kind of like a hunch-backed, dwarf sized Morrissey.
Imagine our shared joy when it dawned on us that we were going to have to perform for our wedding guests during the torturous ‘first dance’. What to do? The hobbit with wheeling? The lurch with pointing? Bit of air guitar? Ah, a story for another day.
Waah, me too. At Angus’ last office Christmas party I went dressed as Hermione Granger from the HP books, had too much to drink and ended up doing “sexy” dancing using my wand and school scarf as props. Any amount of singing and pointing has to be better than that, sob.
your mail-order costume still hasn’t arrived, has it?
i am also a truly heinous dancer. as is husband. we once had to dance, at a military ball, one of those awful le langee (no idea of spelling)–but it’s where you’re four couples, standing in a square in ball gowns/fancy military uniforms, attempting to demonstrate that you are coordinated. needless to say, it didn’t end well.
and don’t even get me started on aerobics classes…
ha, that’s fabulous. My motto is ‘Every dance is better with a little pointing’. But generally i’m being pointed at.
ok…so we both spit something (you wine, me water) at the screen when VEG mentioned someone falling off the bus. I JUST have to be friends with you.
I wish I would have spit wine instead of water at my screen because that would mean I’m at home enjoying a nice glass of wine!
Waaah, so pleased I’m not the only one in the Shameful Dancer corner. Lizzie, oh god, the sexy HP dancing, that’s truly awful.
Julie…er, yeah. You’ll know when the costume arrives, less a costume actually, as stage paints…
Giggle.
oh also I’d like to note that I am a horrible dancer as well. sadly my singing is much worse. it wouldn’t be so bad if i didn’t insist on singing karaoke everytime i drink.
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