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Tue, July 3

Challenged

In lieu of my usual hip hop classes, I went to my second jazz class at Broadway Dance Center. For the second time in a row, the music was insanely good to dance to, and the routine was soul splittingly beautiful. This has been the playlist so far:

Jekyll & Hyde by Plumb
Yeah by Kelly Clarkson
Apologize by One Republic

There's only one itty bitty problem. The class is CALLED a beginner jazz class, but every person in the class seems to have been dancing her entire life. After the warm up, the teacher does an eight count ONCE, and immediately I find myself in the middle of "Fosse". Serious.

For example: When the teacher tells us to "chasse" across the floor, I DO NOT KNOW WHAT THAT EVEN MEANS. This is not good.

So I need a jazz 101 class. Or jazz for five year-olds. I'm beginning to resent my mom (I know, I know) for not letting me take more dance as a kid.

I was talking to my old friend Lindsay and we realized the other day that the reason why we're both not extremely skilled in anything like painting, drawing, singing, or dancing is because our moms hated driving us to extracurricular activities. In fact, when our mothers first met it was because of a rotational carpool arrangement for the two of us, taking us to Hebrew school during the week and on weekends. Our moms got in a huuuuuge fight. We were able to weasel out one year of a "musical comedy" class but after that our moms restricted our extracuriculars to piano lessons--which took place at our own homes. And unfortunately, piano got in the way of things like plays and team sports, and a lot of good my piano playing skills are doing me right now in my tiny apartment. The irony of the whole driving thing was--our moms didn't actually drive us to any of these places. It was our DADS who had to pick us up from dance or Hebrew school or whatever, with a smile on their faces and nary a complaint.

The one good thing about jazz class was that I made a new friend. She was mirroring my "you want me to do WHAT?!?" stance in the back of the room, so I went up to her and asked her if she didn't know what she was doing either. We started talking about what other classes we like taking at BDC ("Hip Hop!") and what we do in the city. She told me she is a singer. "Oh, what do you sing?" I asked her. "Rock," she answerd. "Oh really?" I asked. "Where?" "I have a band." she said. "I'm going on tour this summer." "Wow! That's awesome!" She asked me what I did, and how long I'd been in the city. I told her I was an editor, and that I went to Barnard. She said she had a friend starting there next year. "Oh, so you must be in your early twenties?" I asked her. "I'm eighteen." she said. "Wait. How old are YOU?" she asked me with a perplexed look on her face. Turns out she really thought I was her age before I told her what I did. And you know what? That makes HER what my summer intern calls, my "Bestie". As in BFF. As in Best Friend Forever. Favorite Person.

J and I celebrated our 3 year anniversary. I am such a doof that I completely forgot it was our anniversary. I mean, I knew our anniversary was on the 1st, and that the 1st was approaching, but I didn't realize that Sunday was the 1st. He dropped a card in front of me and I thought it was a thank you card from a wedding or something. It took me about an hour to think to open it. Finally, I realized it was from him, and then I realized "Oh crap! It's July 1st!" I couldn't believe I went the whole day blissfully unaware...Either that makes me really low maintenance or really, really...calendar challenged.

Posted by lexzog at July 3, 2007 11:33 PM

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