Check me, I'm Ginger Friggin' Rogers!

Because I think I'll meet some guys there. That's why. (can't breathe. Laughing. too. hard...)

No, I can't REALLY make a direct argument for my decision to sign up for tap dancing class being "on mission." Well, I can SORT OF make an argument. It goes something like this:

1: I'm currently a chunky girl who is also so much out of shape
2: As we all know, chunky girls (people) don't deserve wove.
3: Tap dancing could un-chunk me a bit
4: If I were less chunky I could maybe deserve some wovin'.
5: And then I'd have to come up with something else to write about. (well crap.)

...ok, so let's forget the item number 5. But the other four -- they work, right?

I'd be lying if I said that was the driving force behind this decision. Really it's just this: I love to watch people tap dance. I love how it feels walking around in tap shoes. That click, click, click sounds cool, no matter what you're doing. You don't have to be really tappity-tapping. You can be trotting through the kitchen, or washing the toilet (gotta be somewhere w/out carpets of course) but that tippy-tappy sound is cool! (oh, and in case the people who own the tap shoes store read this blog, I was never actually cleaning the toilet while wearing the shoes. If the kitties tell you otherwise they're just being troublemakers. And, therefore, kitties.)

Tapping around in tap shoes is like playing pool or shuffling cards or ???. You don't have to be good at it to enjoy that satisfying rush when you make the right noise. (hmmm. Mayhaps I should add "or sex" to that list?) You can spend an hour slamming a white ball into all sorts of other balls and never once go into a pocket, and yet enjoy that sound each dang time. I know you can do this. I have often done this! (It's funny, but I can't seem to make this whole paragraph stop sounding dirty. I'm trying!)

But still I'm very excited about the first class, this Wednesday. I'll dress in my normal workout gear -- crappy sweat pants, crappy sports bra, awesome Atom.com t-shirt -- and I'll know not at all what I'm doing. But I'll make all the right noises!

Again: dirty.