Sweat it Out

Today I was nominated for Homecoming Court.
At least, that's what it felt like in terms of the sorority that is my dance studio.

You see, like any good sorority, any club, job, society of any kind there is a pecking order.
And one might even say certain ranks have to be earned.
Par example, if the bitch your company hired 6 months ago gets the promotion and you've worked for the company for years.  A breach in hierarchy.
Social Structure.
Pecking Order.
Pick-a-little-talkalotbehindyourback.

The dance classes get so full that the instructors dance atop a giant box, sort of a mini stage so that the huffers in the back can see just as well as the show offs in the front.  And for certain numbers, depending on an instructors mood, they'll ask one of the veteran students to dance next to them.  It's sort of this unspoken, You know the routine, you've been around long enough.  Let's give the dancers more than one person to watch.

And tonight?  That veteran on the box next to the Samba teacher was ME.
That's right.
MOI.
And tonight?  Was my third class.
Just a couple short weeks and I'm already bad ass front and center stage material.
AND I had dragged my sick ass there in spite of my lethargy and coughing so it was an even bigger victory considering I almost didn't even go feeling craptastic and all.

And something in my body aligned and I felt like it all finally clicked.
If you're not familiar Samba is one of the trickier latin dances.
You gotta move REALLY fast. 
Like any other dance is all, yeah, work it, shake yo grooove thang!
And Samba is like the micromachine guy from the 90's yelling, YEAHWORKITSHAKEYOGROOVETHANG!!!
And if you've never done it before and you watch someone who has you think, there ain't no way my butt's gonna move THAT fast!

And yet, somehow, this butt o' mine did and it was AWESOME.

I kind of think the fact that my head felt like it was full of pudding meant I couldn't actually think about what I was doing  and I just had to do it.
And I did.
And I totally felt like I should have been wearing a tiara and waving to my screaming fans.

I went to the store after to get some snacks and treated myself to a gorgeous bouquet of ivory roses. 
And when I saw the rainbow bouquet similar to the one Mr. Volcano gave me on my birthday years ago I didn't even feel a twinge of sadness.  Instead I felt a warm smile remembering how loving he had been.
You know, before he was possessed.
Bless his heart.

But I found after spending three days in bed, after sleeping so many hours my back ached and drinking tons of liquids and handfulls of vitamins, what ultimately made me feel better was a room full of my sisters, the disco ball flashing its lights and me dancing like I hadn't a care in the world.

Just sweating it out, toxins and all.