The Taxman Cometh

I owe taxes this year. Considering I spent seven months in 2007 freelancing, I expected to pay alot and planned accordingly. Good thing, too, because I owe a rather large amount. I am not going to give you the exact figure, but let me tell you that I nearly considered having my eggs harvested and sold to the highest bidder to pay the bill to the IRS, the State of New York and the City of New York. (Oh yes, we pay for the privilege to live here.) Fortunately I saved enough dinero, and will therefore save my eggs for my own use...someday...hopefully.

Dance Fever

When I was a student at BYU, I spent a lot of time in ballroom dance classes. I imagined myself quite the dancer, and I took as many classes as I could (i.e. all the social dance levels, two of the latin class levels and three of the standard class levels). My biggest goal was to be on the ballroom dance team...however because practically every girl at BYU also had a similar ambition, I never made it. I would attend every competition and ballroom dance show and watched the good dancers jealously, wishing I could dance as well. Then I went on a mission and any dance skill I had declined miserably. Fortunately I clasped on to important dance skills like following a lead, strong dance position and not tripping. (While dancing. I still trip a lot otherwise.)

I used those few skills when, while living in Seattle, I joined a friend in taking some swing dance classes. First of all, let me begin by saying that I don't love swing dance; I find it too sloppy. I also didn't care for those swing dance teachers in Seattle. They really didn't give good instructions, saying that swing wasn't supposed be intricately perfect (but it would be nice to know what to follow), and they would change the name of their steps when I called them on their errors. (When you dance a whip call it a whip. Don't dance the step and say you did something entirely different.) I was pretty vocal in that class and I am sure that the instructors were glad when I stopped going.

Even though I stopped dancing, it has always been something that I enjoy. Not enough to follow "Dancing with the Stars," however. I wish my ballroom teachers at BYU were judges on that show. I can't picture Lee Wakefield being as nice as the judges on that hit show. Anyway, I was recently invited to take some dance classes, and the dancing bug has bit once more.

My roommate Carrie is a former dancer, and to keep her skills sharp she takes classes at Alvin Ailey. (I'm not sure if she can do that move in the above picture.) In February she was not able to use some of her prepaid dance classes, and she invited me to use them. I took West African, jazz and ballet classes. They were tons of fun. Although the African class was envigorating, I felt that I didn't have enough junk in my trunk to look like a good African dancer. I looked like a gangly white girl flailing my arms about willy-nilly. The ballet class was good, but my knees made horrible cracking noises with each plie, and the Asian guy wearing white tights made me blush. I liked the jazz class the best. The teacher was fantastic--encouring with good criticism--and I actually remembered the routine and was able to dance it, leaps and everything, without falling.

Glowing from the positive dance experience I decided to sign up for the Argentine Tango class offered at Alvin Ailey. Tango has always been my favorite dance at BYU, and I have been interested in learning real Argentine Tango. I like the drama. So my most helpful mom sent me my dance shoes and some dinero, and I started my class.

Ok, this horrible, but I can't remember my teacher's name, but I will tell you that he is 100% Argentine, complete with a very thick accent. He still can't say my name. On the first day I was more than ready to whip my head around and do the fancy kicks and swivels that I have seen others perform (like that couple I saw dancing on Las Ramblas in Barcelona), but I found that this class teaches a newer form of tango that is smoother and calmer than the style of dance performed in competetions and "Dancing with the Stars." There are no head snaps and no dramatic passion, but instead a softer and more romantic dance. The instructor refers to it as "Superman Tango" instead of "Robocop Tango." Even though I was expecting the old-school, I am thoroughly enjoying this new style, and the modern tango music we dance to. If only I had a significant other in the class with me.

The biggest plus of the class is that I am, and I don't mean to brag...(actually, I do), the star pupil. This is a first. I was never the star pupil at BYU. I have been able to learn the steps and technique relatively quickly, and so the teacher calls on me to help demonstrate new steps and such. It helps that I already learned how to have a good dance frame, to take heel leads, and to follow a partner's lead. At first the instructor would only call on me occasionally, but during the last class he called on me every time except once. I think the other girls are jealous.