SWAG

I am not a good dancer. 

And after years of never feeling more self-conscious than when on the dance floor, I have reached a more adult stage of life where I don’t care, because dancing isn’t about how you look (unless dancing is your job, in which case, look good), dancing is about having fun. And I am not about to let my inner critic stop me from having fun.

That didn't keep me from being extremely nervous before my first SWAG class last fall however. SWAG, stands for Sweating With A Goal, and is basically an hour of pretending to be a back-up dancer in a dance studio in Bloomfield. Not only had it been ages since I had attempted to follow any kind of choreographed dance, but I can’t tell you the last time I tried such a thing in front of floor to ceiling mirrors and a large group of strangers.

Still, my friends raved about it – and I needed to break up the monotony of running with something, so I finally forced myself to go. I was pretty awful. I bumped into the people next to me lunging left instead of right. I had to stop and watch and try to jump back in every song. I avoided glimpsing my reflection moving stiffly and awkwardly. I had so much fun.

SWAG has quickly become a weekly tradition that I look forward to. I wouldn’t say I’ve improved much, except that some of the routines have become more familiar, and I don’t bump into other people as often. So on Monday nights, I trek over to Bloomfield and spend an hour bending-and-snapping and looking ridiculous, but having a blast doing it.

Usually we like things we're good at.

But sometimes it’s real good to just do something you’re bad at.

Family Mottos

I grew up with 5 of them.

1. There's a place for everything, and everything in its place.

2. Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you.

3. Always dance when you've got the chance.

4. Measure twice, cut once.

5. Don't get mad, get even.

My Mom sent me an email with the following poem, saying This is why you should dance when you've got the chance!

The Dancers Inherit the Party by Ian Hamilton Finlay When I have talked for an hour I feel lousy— Not so when I have danced for an hour: The dancers inherit the party While the talkers wear themselves out and            sit in corners alone, and glower.

Here's to dancing this weekend!

Today's 4pm Dance Party Sponsored by All Saints, The Hold Steady, and T.Rex

Kelsey Halling: you know when else life is good? When you're having a dance party at your desk cause your boss is out, and you flip your hair around and you think "Wow my hair smells great! I should wash it every day probably!"

The Artist: hahaha

The Artist: I knew you would be doing that when I saw her leave

Kelsey Halling: you know me so well

The Artist: I thought.. well time for Kelsey's 4:00 Dance party

Kelsey Halling: haha There is a direct correlation between the quality of my work and my desk dance parties

Oh Canada

Type A's like to do things well. However, as one gets older, one discovers that there are certain things one will never do well. Like mental math, or playing halo, or dancing. I've come to accept most of these things that I will never be good at and instead use calculators, avoid most video games, and embrace the fact that I dance like a middle-age white woman.

One of my family's mottos growing up was, Always dance when you've got the chance. I was raised with 5 family mottos, but that's another post for another time.

Back to dancing. While in Toronto, I found myself at a birthday party for a couple of Australians. It was apparently a themed birthday party, but I didn't get the theme, because everyone just seemed to be dressed like most of the Canadian's I saw that weekend. There was a lot of flannel.

At one point I was dancing, doing the arm pop, and not caring, when this German guy leans in and says to me, "Keep dancing. You look like a 1920's diva when you dance."

My first reaction was "what does that even mean???!!!" Instead of asking, I just went with "Thank you!" and returned to my arm popping.

I'm just going to assume it was a language barrier thing, and take it as a compliment. The funny thing about dancing is, while I may be bad, most of the Europeans and Canadians I've seen are even worse. It's like sarcasm, and being loud. We Americans are just good at some stuff.