I am still sick. Sick sick sick. And so, my grand plans of meeting up with friends and doing fun things went out the window. Also my plans of doing laundry went out the window. I did manage to church it up and to do my grocery shopping, but otherwise, an uneventful day of watching crap on TV.
And I managed to watch E!'s 50 Steamiest Southern Stars, which was drivel, but they kept talking about the charm of Southern women, and that they are ladies. There's something very sexy about a woman with class and grace. And it reminded me of my own experiences.
And I couldn't help but remember dance class, and the awkward experience that was. I talked about it before. I started in 5th or 6th grade. It was once a week for a few months during the school year. It was taught by these middle-aged folks who awarded all sorts of... scholarly prizes for good dancing, stuff like pens and clocks. I actually managed to win a pen once.
We had to dress nicely for it. Boys were in shirts and ties and proper slacks (wool, ironed, well-fitted). Girls were in dresses and with white cotton gloves, although there were a few with long satin gloves. There was a coat check in the front where we dropped our things, and at the end of the dance class semester, there was a thing where our parents could view their handiwork.
My mom sent me along with some other boys in my grade, not friends but acquaintances mostly. It was part of her master plan to make me into a proper gentleman, someone who could fit into the elitist world which I am still so uncomfortable in. She may have even hoped I would meet a girl, although I doubt it. Asian parents and homework are a universal truth.
There were a few shining moments in dance class though. It was when I first learned that I was unattractive. Really. When I was one of the last to be picked for a dance (or when I was flatly refused for a dance), the first time it was odd. The next time was when the dawning realization set in. I sat out quite a few dances unfortunately, but thanks to it being dance class, there was some girl who was forced to dance with me most of the time.
I also remember dipping, which has its own entry and I won't repeat myself now. But my one nice memory of dance class was when I first learned how to lead. If you've ever done any ballroom dancing, you know what I mean. It's one thing to put your hand on a lady's back and move your feet around. It's quite another thing to actually dance.
It was towards the end of the lessons, and my mom might have even been there, and it was the girls turn to ask the boys. This was usually my 6 minute respite to sit. However, this time, someone actually asked me to dance. I knew the girl; she went to kindergarten with me. It was kinda crowded, so as we danced, I pointed us to the open areas, and I realized while this occurred that when I led, she followed. It wasn't like I was pointing; there were no voice commands or hand signals. It was effortless. We danced, and for once, it was fun.
We of course won no prize or recognition. But it was then that I realized why people like to dance. Most of life is spent having fun by yourself. Even movies and shows, there is a certain anonymity in numbers. But dancing that one time, I found out that you could have fun just being with another person. That could be fun.
I would also later realize that finding a girl who will let you lead is much harder than the actual dancing.