This week I have been going to dancing lessons for 6 months.
I've been to 7 dance parties. One champs. One workshop. A couple of privates. About 35 group lessons at 3 different levels.
I've spent goodness-knows-how-much on i-tunes getting all the songs I love dancing to (ouch! and there's still more I want!)
I've been spun, dipped, dropped and seduced. Lifted, twirled, draped and cuddled.
I can even look at the list of moves being taught and recognise some of them!
I have quite a collection of swirly skirts, and light, dancer friendly tops. I've had a couple of errors of judgement - the dress that kept falling down (no more halter necks for this kid) and the one that turned out to be completely see through if I was too near the spotlights...
I've had the pleasure of dancing with most of the men I have wanted to dance with - and the dubious honour of a couple I was less than enthusiastic about. There's still a couple on the list of 'dance with me's!' but I'm even getting brave enough to do the asking myself now. I've even danced with some of the best in the country (poor things!)
I've danced with the shortest, the tallest, the slimmest, the fattest, the sweatiest, the best smelling and the cutest men ever to be found in one room.
I've been told to use more pressure, less pressure, go slower, go faster, concentrate more, concentrate less, get closer, move back, hang on and let go.
I've woken up aching all over.
I've found some wonderful new friends, both men and women, from all walks of life, and got way better at small talk.
I've introduced my children to a new way of socialising, exercising and having fun, and they too can't wait to learn.
I hear the music, see the lights, and my heart sings.
the best fun you can have with your clothes on