All the Right Moves

So, here’s the thing. I kind of got myself invited to this informal ballroom class last month (completely intentional, since I’ve been trying to find a youth ballroom class FOREVER) that meets on Saturdays. I decided that I’m going to drag my brother, my best friend Renaye, and her brother to it because I won’t go alone. I’m not good with strangers, okay? The first week end I ended up babysitting for someone in my ward, and we obviously ended up skipping, right? Right. Disappointed, I eagerly awaited the next week’s class.

Doop doop doop…okay, here we are at the next Saturday.

So, my brother drives us up to the building that they said the class was going to be in. HEY, there’re people wearing prom dresses in there…ummm…are we in the right place? Renaye and I sidle up to the doors and peer in, and several girls look back out at us.

There’s a sign for Prom on the door.

Quickly, we hurry back to the car and tell our brothers that we think its prom. In slow voices, they calmly explain that prom is in April, and tell us to go back and check again.

(Insert attempts at not being the one to go back in and check here.)
(Insert failure here.)

Yeah, so, Renaye tells me that I have to talk because I didn’t want to be the one to go check AGAIN, like a total creeper. And the whole walk up to the building she’s whispering in my ear that they’re probably going to kidnap us and kill us. Yeah, in their high heels and prom dresses. I am so scared. *cough, ashamed look*

But I digress.

We go up to the door and go in, where I calmly walk up to one of the girls in a dress and ask what’s going on, at which point she goes, “Oh, are you the ones from Wasilla?” COMPLETELY freaked out now, I respond that yes, we are…why? Apparently, this is a surprise party for Mason (oldest son of the teacher, in case you were wondering). *blinks, panicked look* Well, I knew his birthday was soon, but could you have at least given us a heads up? I wouldn’t have told him, I swear! We’re so under dressed…

Again, I digress.

My friends better plan me a party like that. Needless to say (and yes, I am saying it), Ren and I were dead (i.e., drained of energy) by the time we actually left, which may or may not have been half an hour to an hour after it ended.

Yes, our awkwardness didn’t prevent us from being social butterflies.

I don’t think any one of them knew what they were getting into by becoming friends with Renaye and me. *evil chuckle* Too late now. Well, although the party was fun, and Mason taught us some swing dance and waltz, we still hadn’t been to a class *headdesk*

It took some conniving, but Renaye and I ended up being able to attend the next Saturday’s class. Arriving twenty minutes late, we walked in on them doing the cha cha. Yeah…everybody looked up when we walked in. As much as I love attention, it wasn’t exactly my definition of “comfortable”. So, we learned to cha cha, with a bit of trial and error, then, we got to dance for fun. Heh…yeah, I cannot swing dance as well as people may think. Say what you want, but it’s hard to get used to being spun this way and that super fast ::)

So, after dancing some swing dance, Sister Bennett asks Renaye and I if we could fill in for this dance they’re doing on Wednesday (if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll know that this is a Saturday, so we’d have four days to learn the dance). Me being me, I said that I’d love to. It took some convincing to get Renaye to do it with me, but because she is the most amazing friend in the world, she agreed to do it with me. This is kind of what I’ve been leading up to, by the way; the performance at the basketball game last night.

So, we get there a couple minutes earlier than she said we should because we’re just that awesome. Turns out she’s always late (Tanner’s, Emily’s, and Zach’s words, not mine). So, Ren and I decide it would be fun to explore the school, since we’re homeschooled we find schools somewhat fascinating and fun. We were galloping around on our imaginary horses, peering into windows (checking out our reflections; yeah, we looked pretty good), and found a couple bombs set to explode in fifteen minutes (turns out they were duds, since they didn’t go off…).Then the most amazing thing happened.

A lady with a British accent asked us to go downstairs. A BRITISH ACCENT.

Our minds? Blown.

It took mucho restraint not to answer her in a British accent.

When Sister Bennett got there, we were all sitting on this big stair platform thing eating popcorn that Ren made. At home…she brought it. She didn’t make it at the school. Anyway.

SO, we find our way into a back room place where we can practice the dance. We practice. We laugh. We start singing Phantom of the Opera. We rocked that place. Then, we go into the gym to watch the game. Renaye and I keep up a running commentary and cheer for whoever we feel like at the moment.

Then…we’re going to dance.

Dun.

DUN.

DUUUUUN.

*giggles* I had fun. I really did, I love performances. I really like attention, and I am always in my element on stage. Don’t get me wrong, I get super nervous all the time, but really? I love, love, love performing. Drama queen? In a sense. Not in the overly dramatic about drama at school, but in theater and the arts? Completely.
Yes, if they asked me to perform with them again, I would be jumping for joy. That’s how much fun I had.

Total creeper? Indeed.

And then, when we left, Ren and I took pictures with the most amazing St. Bernard in the back of this truck…like creepers *cough*

So, yes. I’ll have pictures and a video as soon as I can get them out of Renaye. She’s refusing to send them to me…or she can’t send them to me…or something.

~La vie est belle, Bri~