Dancing at a Wedding

When one friend asked three of us to dance at her wedding, we agreed – I actually agreed on a high from just completing We Own The Night so would have said yes to most things in my endorphin addled state – not actually thinking the time to actually dance in front of actual people would come. At least that was what I thought. Of course time wouldn’t pass and of course we wouldn’t actually have to dance. But pass it did (stupid time) it did and before I knew exactly what was happening the three of us were getting on stage to dance out little hearts out. To say I was scared was an understatement.


There is an advert on UK TV (a cereal advert) which tells us that we should keep our heart on its metaphorical toes by doing at least three things which scare us a day. My answer to that is a big, fat NO. I felt as if I was having a heart attack as the music started. Having my heart feel like that three times a day would probably kill me. I love to dance – love – but on a dance floor where I can be as enthusiastic and wild as I want (sometimes my legs are actually separate, sentient beings). Not on a stage when choreography and memory play a part. By then I couldn’t back out. So I danced along with everyone else. And you know what? It went well. Individually I danced well and as a group we danced well. The bride loved it and it was a success.

But the cereal advert can still suck it.

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