Thursday, June 10, 2010

Everyone Was Uninvited

A few weeks ago at dance class our instructor was handing out recital fliers "to give to your friends and coworkers, so they can come see you."

I debated if I could jack her, swipe all the fliers and run away… in tap shoes.

Pretty much the last thing I need in my life is anyone to see me all blue-eyeshow'd, red lipstick'd and rocking a leotard with tap shoes. No thanks.

If you went through the cedar chest at my parents' house you'd stumble upon plenty of old dance costumes from when I was a kid. Sequins. Fringe. Ruffles. Leotards.

I am not 7 anymore, yet I still dress like one come dance performance time. For some reason dance costumes have not evolved all that much. There is a still a lot of skin-tight, sequined, sparkly madness going down.

I was so horrified anyone would find my tap costume that I hid it so well that the night before the final rehearsal I had to tear my apartment apart to find it. (It was hanging in the coat closet… pretty much the last place I'd look considering I was convinced it was stuffed into a ball at the bottom of my dance bag.)

I even drove more carefully on my way home from class the last few weeks because I was terrified of getting into an accident and overhearing the cops saying, "Her face is bleeding… OMG, guys, come look at this sequined fedora! Hahaha!!!"

On Sunday I looked exactly like Lady Gaga (see above), only not ridiculous on purpose.

The good news is that in hip-hop/jazz you get to always wear black dance pants, because no one wants to see anyone split-leap jump to a Britney Spears song in a leotard. My saving grace… black dance pants and a sparkly tank top.

It's too bad you guys didn't see me at the performance. I was in four dances. Three of them I flipped my hair around and acted like I knew what I was doing. But in one of them I completely forgot an entire combination - IN THE FRONT ROW.

Hahahaha! Ooops. Too bad you weren't there. Oh wait…

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