Shake Your Groove Thing

I got my groove on last night at Casey's workout/dance class. She taught us a dance to this Michael Franti song which I'm mildly addicted to.  I realized last night that the world isn't how I imagine it in my narcissistic mind.  You see I happen to be under the false impression that I can dance pretty well.  I took ten years of ballet classes and my parents drained their wallets to pay for five years of cheerleading and gymnastics in my adolescence. And even though my years of dance training are over, the Ashley that rocks out in my mind can do moves that my body has never and surely will never do.  I imagine myself leaping, turning, and shaking my toosh Beyonce style. 

So dancing in front of the mirror-covered room last night was a bit of a self esteem blow.  Casey's body rolls and neck whoopteedos looked cool and funky.  Her reflection in the mirror looked like a well choreographed music video, while my reflection looked like someone choking on a pork chop.  My lurpy arms were dangerously out of control and I think I sprained my big toe trying to do a turn.

 In an effort to keep my fragile self image ignorantly intact, I think I'll stick to dancing in rooms without mirrors.

Thanks for the fun class, Case!