So You Think You Can Dance

August 9, 2012

in Blame The Sudafed

I love going to weddings. The flowers, the love, the bridesmaid dresses that only look good on whichever bridesmaid was wise enough to go dress shopping with the bride, the cake, and the dancing.

Dancing’s my favorite.

I know. My money would have been on the cake too. Except the prettier the cake, the more likely it is to taste like a pound of sawdust double-dipped in vanilla-scented candle wax. That’s not to say I haven’t had some absolutely delicious wedding cake, but it always feels like a game of russian roulette when I approach the cake table. And sure, I could probably just wait until someone other than bride has gotten a piece of cake to gauge their reaction…but where’s the sport in that?

So unless Maggy decides to marry her own Big Man again and remake her three-tiered, light as air yet creamily delicious, pound-ish wedding cake from scratch, dancing? Is my favorite.

Mostly because, in my head, when I’m dancing, I look like this:

You know. The flyest girl on the dance floor. Her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and leaves the Big Man rethinking his one-dance-per-wedding-and-it-had-better-not-be-faster-than-a-death-march policy.

In short, all I need is an open bar and a dimly lit dance floor to start getting down like its 1999.

Of course, as I said, that’s all in my head….Why, Yes. Yes, that is my white-girl-one-arm-raise signature move.

{ 2 comments }

NSC August 10, 2012 at 2:37 pm

Love the save the last dance reference. I learned the dance in case I was ever in a danceoff.

Two years later, danceoff happens. THE ACTUAL SONG PLAYS.

I’m too chicken to do it. LIFELONG REGRET.

Shibahn Landry August 9, 2012 at 8:20 pm

I’m flashing back to prom and homecoming dances! We were awesome dancers! 😉

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