The dance workshop.

Yesterday I went to the workshop and took about five hours of Lindy Hop classes. Now, Lindy Hop is a difficult dance, and while these classes did spend a lot of time on the basics, by the afternoon things started to move a bit more quickly. Sure, there were some moves and tips I picked up, but I missed lots and lots and lots of stuff. I kept thinking that I wasn't picking up as much as everyone else, but I also kept thinking that I couldn't dare go home because maybe this next class would give me my second wind. But as the final class drew to a close, I just bolted out of there and ran to the nearest bus stop and went home.

All last night I wondered whether I should return for the second day. I thought, if it would be anything like today I'd just make a bigger fool out of myself, but if I don't go, I'd look like a quitter. Of course, I knew that I was probably just depressed and should just get a good night's sleep and get up in the morning.

When I woke up, my mind still wasn't made up. I decided if I could find something good enough to wear out, and get ready by 10:00, I'd go. Since I hadn't done all my laundry yet, it didn't look likely. But I found an nice old black shirt that seemed good enough, some black socks in a forgotten drawer, and the black slacks and white undershirt I bought that week. So I got dressed, groomed a bit, and called a cab.

The Balboa is a very close dance. So close, a woman can tell if you're having impure thoughts. I'd learned the basics of it by chance when a Lindy Hop class was cancelled due to insufficient attendance, but the teacher decided to teach the Balboa to those of us who did show up. It's much less complicated than Lindy, though it still takes skill to do it right. And while I didn't catch everything in the class, I kept up for a good long while.

I'll definitely feel better about dancing Tuesday. Swing night is at the lake yet again, and it'll be fun, as long as I can keep my mojo working.