If ____ is Wrong, I Don't Wanna Be Right!: Hold Me Closer Tony Danza

My ideal day would be spent doing absolutely nothing. Not nothing as in "contemplative meditation and reflection", but more of a "contemplative deflection" involving cable television, Words with Friends, and/or obsessive Facebook stalking. Sadly, these activities lead down the path to becoming one of those people that gets airlifted out of bed. (Although it does take the threat of heavy machinery to pull me away from a Dance Moms marathon!) So, I am always on the lookout for interesting ways to get my rear in gear. By interesting, I mean something without a pole or the word "strip" in the title. (I will save my anti-strippersize rant for another day, perhaps after a few glasses of wine.) Since I am about as athletic as a garbage can, I decided to go with something I enjoyed as a child - ballet. I have been taking up precious drawer space with dance attire for a long time now, and this class would be a great opportunity to squeeze into my stash of unflattering clothing. (No longer do I chide Lululemon on their padded sport bras!)

If Barbie can do it, so can I!

I got up the nerve and entered the storefront decorated with skinny, graceful silhouettes. Immediately, the smell of feet, sweat, and promise overwhelmed my nose, and the waiting area swarmed with little third grade bun-heads. Their excitement was infectious, and I was excited to sidle up to the barre. Even though I am never going to be a great ballerina, it felt great to stumble through the classic steps. During the class I felt graceful and flexible and that I truly missed my calling as a dancer. (As long as I kept my eyes away from the mirror.) The class was physically and mentally challenging, and totally worth the difficultly of going to the bathroom in a leotard. It's a good thing I snarfed down some peanut butter cups that afternoon, or else I never would have made it through. (Wink!) Why would I go back to the treadmill, when I could glissade and tendu for an hour?

Growing up, I invested a lot of time and energy into activities I have slowly abandoned as an adult. The ballet class was a great reminder that adulthood doesn't mean the end of fun. After a year, I feel like I have actually become a better dancer. While I look around at the little girls with pangs of jealousy, I take solace in the fact that I know how to keep my underpants from sticking out the sides of my leotard. If I could get back into my pink ballet tights, who knows what will be next?

My friends at http://shop.mattel.com/ gave me some great ideas...