Cause Your Friends Don’t Dance and if They Don’t Dance…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Can’t Drive 55.”

I had a dance party the other night, with myself. It was just one of those days when a dance party was needed. I turned on spotify, selected my list of dancing songs and then had some fun. Of course Safety Dance is on that list. Currently I live in a small place which doesn’t allow much room for dancing. Furniture got pushed out of the way and I let my hair down. The neighbors probably heard banging noises as I would get lost in my dance and get thrown off balance into a wall. I don’t mind, I enjoy the random dance parties.

I have seen videos of me at 4 years old dancing around on a stage. Wearing bright red sweatpants with a sweatshirt to match. Although it was less dancing and more me running back and forth across the stage to music. You could see the joy in my face.

Then there were the times that I would put on this CD my mom had called Scottish Moors. My sisters and I would invent dances on the spot. Two hours of fresh dance material every time the CD got turned on. Dancing was fun, full of expression, joyful. That is until I got to middle school. Instead of PE I had to take dance. In a class full on slender and graceful girls I definitely stood out. I had trouble with the teachers choreographed dances and understanding coordination and tempo. It was much different from my own dances. The girls would call me chicken legs and tease me. Despite the hurt this caused, I still enjoyed my own way of dancing.

In high school I got away with presenting a project on how plants convert sunlight into food energy with chloroplasts through an interpretive dance. The other students probably thought I was crazy but I got an A without having to speak. I think the teacher was just amused.

Then there is a special dance I have to the Law and Order theme song. I will be sitting in my bedroom and my dad will be watching tv in the living room. I can hear the show begin, and after the first scene there is a pause before the opening credits. I will come running out just in time for the theme song to begin, and if not my dad will start calling for me. Sometimes he will even get up and dance with me. It has become a family event. Dancing to the Law and Order theme song. New moves every time. Each dance more elaborate than the next.

And then there was the time my older sister and I were part of a swing dance flash mob. She had heard about it and asked me if I was interested. We went to rehearsals for a few weeks and then in the middle of Universal City Walk one day we joined in this flash mob.

I haven’t stopped my random dances. They could happen anywhere and everywhere, the streets, the mountains, or the line at the grocery store. The looks don’t matter. I am having fun. I am happy and joyful. I am carefree. Besides dancing gives you more endorphins. People care too much about what others think, otherwise more people would be fine with dancing randomly in public places.

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