I had lofty ambitions tonight to sit down and write about accepting change in our lives, or about the surprising result of the latest Pew Forum Survey on Religion in America. They were shot to hell, however, when I instead sat down to watch "So You Think You Can Dance."
First, a small disclaimer. I'm relatively new to the reality show genre. I blame my reality-lovin' roommate for sucking me in. Even now, my enjoyment record is spotty. American Idol got on my nerves by the quarterfinals. I can't stand to be in the room when The Mole is on. But dance shows ... well, they are quite a different story.
"Dancing With the Stars" in past seasons, and So You Think this season, draw me like a merengueing moth to a krump flame (or some equally awkward metaphor). Maybe it's because of all the art forms I pursue, dance is one of my weakest. Maybe I'm subconsciously celebrating the human form. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm vicariously living the dream of wearing half a dress.
No matter the reason, the outcome is always the same: I turn off these shows feeling energized, elated, inspired. I believe that given the right combo of steps and sequins, I could waltz my way on there and bury the competition, if only I believe. Helping to fuel this dream is my (scant) past ballroom experience -- the one genre where my body said rejoicing, "Hey! I can do this!!!", and promptly forgot all embarrassing moments from past attempts at club dancing.
Sadly, I'm never in a position to immediately go salsa or ballroom dancing after one of these shows. It's a shame, because that's when all my inhibitions have fallen away, and I'm confident in my ability to roll these hips and live the beat. Instead, my roommates are treated to my prancing around the 1st floor, shaking what my mama gave me in my oh-so-sexy pajamas. I'm sure they can barely contain themselves.
The real test will come when I work up the gumption to go to a dance class again and act the part of a seductive siren who never wants to be anywhere but in her own sultry skin. And then, I hope I can summon that natural high simply walking down the street, making every movement a fluid routine. That's power. That's enticing. That's sexy.