You call that dancing?

Can I just say that I knew going in that it would be a challenge. How I let Amy Tokash talk me into taking a dance class, I don't know. And that rat hasn't even shown up for the last two weeks.

I'm a white girl. While I can spell rhythm, I have none. I'm so far away from having rhythm that I can't even hear its echo. As for grace? I have a fish named Grace, and she's only recently entered my life.

I once got out of high school gym class because it was 6 weeks of dancing. I hated the gym teacher, and she hated me right back. So I remembered that my parents were fundamentalists -- strict Pentecostals. And dancing is a sin if you're Pentecostal. I got religion real fast and spent the 6 weeks in study hall, far away from the horrid Ms. Stroud.

Looking back on it, I guess it wasn't my best decision. At least rhythm-wise. It was good to have some distance between me and the shrew.

It's possible that I may have learned something back then, though, that would have helped me out tonight. I am in this class with women who have danced since they were children. They're really sweet and supportive, but I'm like a hippo in a room full of butterflies. They're lucky I haven't trampled any of them.

Know anyone who might like to join me in the back row? I'd buy the first round after, and I'd probably pay your entry fee. You don't have to have overcome a fundamentalist religion. But those with rhythm need not apply.