When I was in elementary and middle school, Tuesday was my absolute favorite day of the week. Tuesday was the day I had dance lessons. Now before you go thinking that you didn't know I could dance, I can't. While I did enjoy gymnastics, I was never what you would consider a "good" dancer. The main reason I was so vigilent about these dance lessons was because of Ellen. And Sara. And Kelly. And the list goes on. I was there to socialize with my friends. My experience mainly consisted of laughing and joking between learning each new step and while waiting for our turn to throw a back-hand-spring.
Maybe if I'd actually been comitted to the activity instead of sticking it out through 8th grade cheerleading, who knows, I might have amounted to something. But as it was, I thought the fun times were more important, and 8 years later the only thing I've done that resembles dancing was as a Rockette in DG's theme night. And I suppose that was because of my height. Though I wouldn't go back and trade in those classes for anything. I'll always have the memories of Sara trying not to laugh during her routine, and turning Ellen's dad's jeep into a roller coaster on the way home.
Maybe if I'd actually been comitted to the activity instead of sticking it out through 8th grade cheerleading, who knows, I might have amounted to something. But as it was, I thought the fun times were more important, and 8 years later the only thing I've done that resembles dancing was as a Rockette in DG's theme night. And I suppose that was because of my height. Though I wouldn't go back and trade in those classes for anything. I'll always have the memories of Sara trying not to laugh during her routine, and turning Ellen's dad's jeep into a roller coaster on the way home.
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