There’s a very good reason my parents didn’t name me Grace. The reason became clear in ballet class when I was six, and the instructor kept having us count to eight while we lifted our arms in (not-so) graceful arcs, and then count to eight as we lowered our arms in (not-so) graceful arcs. I assume the repeated exercise was because we weren’t getting it. Or maybe that was just me.
“I know how to count to eight. I want to leap and bound across the stage! In one of those sparkly frilly skirts! I want to be a ballerina right now. I’ll wear diamonds.”
I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t name me Patience, either.
I love to sing, and whenever I see a musical, I wish I could sing and dance together. It’s been my “wild” dream – the one I know will never come true. I think everybody needs one of these wild dreams, if nothing else than for entertainment when life isn’t treating you kind. Got a sick toddler you need to rock? Hum “Memory” from Cats and picture yourself slouching rhythmically under moody stage lights. Waiting in line at the DMV? They don’t have to know you’re smiling because you just nailed “Cell Block Tango” from Chicago and the audience is going wild. Long drive through Nevada? No way – you’re belting out “Popular” from Wicked and You Are a Star, Baby. Wearing diamonds, of course.
But none of that actually involves, you know, dancing. When my brother introduced me to Just Dance 2, I fell in love, then stole my mother’s Wii and bought my own copy of the game. Now, not only do I get to dance, I get immediate, objective feedback. And I can compete with my brother (and lose every time), which is always fun.
- “Rasputin” by Boney M.
- “Baby Girl” by Reggaeton
- “Call Me” by Blondie
- “Jump” by Studio Allstars (not Kris Kross? But it sounds just like them. Weird)
- “Tik Tok” by Ke$ha
- “Iko Iko” by Mardi Gras
- “Girlfriend” by Avril Lavigne
I’ve only hit myself in the head with the controller a couple of times. Fine, maybe three or four times. Like I said, my name is not Grace. I haven’t actually knocked myself out yet, so I’m not too worried about it.
Z occasionally joins in. She’s “Baby” in the photo above, with 18 points. (She dropped the controller and found something better to do in administering injections to her stuffed animal friends.)
So I can sweat and be aware of every excruciating minute, or I can have fun and suddenly realize that my heart rate is up and I’m panting and sweating.
So. Jillian Michaels? Or a dancing video game?
Oh, daddy, I choose to dance. Even if flailing about with the controller occasionally bruises my forehead.