My 1st Homecoming Dance

Okay, I couldn't hold it inside. I have to post this today. I was going to wait until tomorrow, to space out my well-developed posts but I just couldn't stand it. This one cracked me up so I'm hoping it makes you laugh. If it doesn't, I think you don't have a soul.

I love dancing. It's in the top five on my lists of things I love to do. (It's probably even in the top three.) And I'm actually not terrible for a knobby-elbowed white girl with extra long arms. But there was a time when I was horrible.

Fun fact #1: I didn't develop rhythm until I was a junior in college.

Fun fact #2: I danced enthusiastically my whole life - and I didn't know what rhythm was or that I didn't have it.

PS: I just realized that describing my dancing ability has really nothing to do with this post.

My first high school Homecoming Dance was held in my 8th grade gym (also where my mom taught second grade) because our gym floor was being repaired for water damage.

The main decorations were huge popcorn containers full of yellow balloons. We must have had a movie theme or something. They were pretty cool. Only because they were so large.

I spent most of the dance in a cluster of 9th grade girls. Half the time we were getting down and boogieing (and probably looking like convulsing monkeys).

The other half of the time was spent talking about whether or not certain boys were going to ask us to dance. It was during one of these times when I had a SCARY realization: I'd never slow-danced with anyone before.

So I did the most reasonable thing: I asked my classmate Kristy to teach me in the restroom. (The same restroom I used to change in for junior high P.E.)

After I had my lesson from Kristy I felt confident. I could do this. Now I just needed some practice. My friend Clint (who had also attended this school with me in 8th grade) was procrastinating on asking any girls to dance so I asked him. I wanted to try out this "slow dancing" thing on a safe subject. Clint was not an object of any of my affection so it was perfect. It went pretty well. Mostly uneventful.

Later on Clint asked me again. I guess while getting my own practice in I'd inadvertently boosted his confidence.

Then it happened. Louis asked me to dance. Well, he didn't really ask. He walked toward me, reached out his hand and nodded toward the dance floor and said, "Come on." I was terrified, thrilled, ecstatic, horrified, sweating. This was the most exciting moment in my 13 years of life. He *SIGH* held me closer than Clint had. We rarely looked each other in the eye. I stepped on his feet twice. It was SO romantical!

At one point he asked how my night was going and, in a moment of 9th grade passion and ecstasy, I said, "It's great...now."

I know. It's okay. You can cringe. I do every time I think about that wonderful moment. It was like a scene from a teen romance movie...only worse.

I try to tell people just how awkward I am...but anyone who didn't know me in high school never seems to believe me.