One of our most unique Christmas gifts this year was from J's mom...and it came in the form of dance lessons! And of course we realize this is in prep for the wedding, not just like a gift certificate for jazz class (still, that would've been equally as awesome).
It should come as no surprise that I was a teensy bit more excited about these dance lessons than J...there may have even a hand clap or two from me, if we're being honest here. I'm smart enough to know the only reason J will go to these sessions with me is to make our first dance at the wedding a little less nerve-wracking, and for that, I will accept his willingness to learn the foxtrot, or the waltz, or maybe if I'm reeeeally lucky....the Merengue.
On Friday night, I stayed at home to unwind after a long week of wedding stuff. Just me, the dogs, a glass of wine and my first crush, Johnny Castle. I don't have the time to tell you how near and dear Dirty Dancing is to my heart. But I do have the time to tell you that for the first time since I was a kid, the thoughts of "that could be me!" came rushing back. Thoughts of J strutting into dance class in tight black pants, matching shirt, oversized shades, devil-may-care hair, with his jacket flung over his shoulder (yet hooked on his finger) a la dear Patrick Swayze excited me. It got me thinking.
We're totally doing the lift.
1 comments:
did you happen to go to the trivia sites and make your own quiz about DD? oh wait, we already dominated that in the early 2000s. i can see the lift, if nothing else, can you open the dance with J running his hand down your side - tickle, tickle.
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