those of you who know me well, also know that i have physical anxiety attacks at the thought of dancing anywhere, anytime. this is a terrible pity when you also know that i would love to be able to dance like eleanor powell or xavion glover or my friend maria two streets over. it is however so. my hands turn to ice, my skin turns pale (except for a bright red spot on each cheek like mary poppins), and i sweat like an endlessly cascading chocolate fountain.nu - at the cafe deville last saturday night, while i realised that house music is really not my thing, mainly because it is so relentless and i find that utterly boring, i seem to be developing an affinity for a latin beat. not only did i dance and enjoy it for a couple of tracks, but somebody told me (albeit someone even further down the dance food chain than am i) that i looked good. well whaddya know?! and all i'd had to drink was seltzer.
to quote (for me) a more religiously/culturally relevant song - wonder of wonder, miracle of miracles!
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