Well, maybe not technical so much as descriptive -- your upper body mimics the poise of a princess, but everything below your torso moves with just a little bit of naughty. (Cha cha cha!)
Or in my case, ridiculous.
No, this is not the post you've been waiting for. Naughty Hotties is - gulp - tonight. But as I am quickly learning, there's a little bit of "naughty" in pretty much every style of dance.
Not something I warned my friend Sue about when I
Sue: Will it be hard?
Me: Not at all. It will be fun.
Sue: Fun sounds good. What time should I pick you up?
Me: Uh, 6:30?
Sue: But class starts at 7:15, no?
Me: Yes, but I like the back row.
I actually don't *like* the back row. I need the back row. Still camouflaged behind a sea of waving arms and swaying hips, I can keep one eye on Kasha's
Sue: I'm sweating.
Me: This is the warm-up.
Sue: Really? How long have we been here?
Me: 10 minutes.
Sue: *scrunches face in disapproval* Will we be friends after this?
Me: *smiling* Doubtful.
I confess, after Tuesday's Hip Hop Flop and last week's Salsa Fizzle, I fully expected to crash and burn last night. I definitely burn - my thighs and abs and butt muscles are still on fire - but much to my delight, I didn't crash. At least not fully.
Me: Don't worry about your arms right now.
Sue: So, you're an expert now?
Me: What? No! I just don't want you to be frightened away.
Sue: Are you calling me a chicken?
Me: Huh? No! It's just there's a lot of coordination. You know, moving your feet like this. (*demonstrates basic Salsa step*) And then popping the hip, and...
Sue: So I'm not coordinated?
Me: That's not what I meant...
Sue: Perhaps you should clarify.
Me: *turns to front* I'll just look this way.
Sue: You do that.
I confess to loving the class. LOVING. Kasha exudes a confidence that is contagious, and much like Jessica, her smile is infectious. Maybe it was having Sue
I allowed myself to get swept up in the music and the laughter. Did I hit the steps? Not even close. And don't even get me started on the two new moves Kasha introduced (but thanks to Mel, last week's instructor, for giving me a little one-on-one help with that...). My arms refuse to move with my feet, but apparently my hips don't mind the gentle sway.
Sue: You said this wouldn't be hard.
Me: I lied.
Sue: Clearly. Anything else I should know?
Me: I don't think so.
Well, except for that (long) song-and-a-bit worth of squats.
Sue: I hate squats.
Me: There's just a few.
Sue: *scrunches face in disapproval* I hate squats.
We finished with some wonderful meditation-style stretches, the kind that might have put me to sleep had I not heard Sue's whispered threats.
Sue: Are you hurting?
Sue *louder* Anything I can do to make your pain worse?
Kasha: How's everyone feeling?
Sue: Like I want to kill my friend.
Sue's threats continued throughout the drive.
Sue: I've never sweat so much. I'm going to melt.
Me: Time to dust off the broom?
Sue: Broom? Why would I need a broom?
Me: Uh... wasn't that a reference to the Wicked Witch? You know, melting and all?
Sue: *gasping* I meant sugar!
Me: Oh crap.
As I climbed out of her car with ginger-like care, Sue stopped me with a murderous glare. My breath hitched.
Sue: I have a premonition.
Me: You're going to kill me tomorrow?
Sue: Probably. But I think I'll be sore tomorrow.
Yep, you will. But I also have a premonition, Sue. You'll be back next week.
The Book In My Bag Today: Kindred in Dead, J.D. Robb