Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Blogtacular!

So, here I was, wracking my poor little mind, trying to think of a hott topic for today's post…the first snow (also in MTL, for darling Banana…welcome to winter!) of the season; the fact that DD and I are continuing our never-ending quest to fulfill the suburban yuppie dream by taking (don't laugh) ballroom dancing classes (fuckers…I told you not to laugh); the likelihood that this upcoming season will feature my two all-time super duper favourite sounds that I totally love and that in no way make me want to job flaming hot pokers into my eardrums, namely a)Christmas carols; and b)bloated partisan acting "talents" of various federal politicians.

But lo and behold – as I log-on to ramble my way coarsely and incoherently through another post (speaking of which – if you want to see something coarse and incoherent – check this movie out. Unless you are my Nana, in which case, I didn't see it, or even hear about it, or even know what you're talking about because I was busy been reading Psalms. Er, for 6 years) when I noticed a little something:

Happy 100th post! To me. Or you. To everybody!

This kind of took me by surprise, so I haven't really prepared anything. Of course, maybe it was my plan all along to go for broke on my 138th Post Blogtacular! Yeeeeeesssssss….that's it.
Anway...back to our regularly scheduled rant:

SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE

Uh...no. That's why we took lessons. In DD's old high school cafetorium. And yes, that's a real word, although god knows why they couldn't just call it a multi-purpose room like everyone else. Apparently it's an Ontario thing, like calling the game where you play a miniature version of golf "mini-putt" despite the fact that you're putting normal distances, and that it is the field of play itself that is miniature, so that it's like calling a shoot-out "mini-hockey". Anyway, we just had our last class the other night, and let me just say that while we still constantly look at our feet and I occasionally forget to not lead (what can I say? As anyone who took dance in middle school knows, there are always way more girls than boys, and so some of those girls have to be boys, but certain girls absolutely refuse to be boys because nice girls don't want to cross the lines of arbitrary gender roles, so then girls like me are like WTF? I'll be the fucking boy, bitch, and so now we find ourselves 10 years later subconsciously trying to lead, and see where boy/girl sex role crossover leads to? MADNESS!) and we also address each other in phony accents depending on which dance we're currently attempting ("Oh Viscount Charles David Winchester-Smythe, Marquess of Bumbleberry, theThird, you foxtrot divinely" "Quite") we are above and beyond the best of the class, if you are judging on things like being able to do the steps in time to the music.

Now, not to downplay my time as a pupil of a certain middle school dance teacher, but most of it has to do with the fact that DD, unlike the other guys in the class, has rhythm. And if you want to see pain, you should see the look on a woman's face who's trying to do the cha-cha (one-two-three, cha-cha, four-five-six) while her partner is stomping around, as if in time to his own irregular heartbeat (one...twothree...chacha!...fourfivesix...), and she's trying to patiently guide him without leading, because nice girls don't lead, but she's also trying to get him to hear the music "one-two-three-four" and he's staring at the floor and stomping around and it's like some In Living Color sketch with Jim Carrey about how white guys even suck at white guy dances.

Anyway - it's been pretty fun, and we're going to keep it up, but it's not like we're going to the Olympics anytime soon. Unless some sort of mysterious tragedy befalls the Uzbekistan team...MWAHAHAHAHA....ahem...

SCROOGE MCHARPER

If the insipid, blatantly commercial and mind-numbingly uncreative holiday commercials don't get me, then the fine thespian skills of Peter "Keanu" MacKay explaining patient wait times will. Thank God we cancelled cable ("You're welcome" - God).

WHAT$%!!!:????

Yes...we cancelled cable.
Yes...it was my idea.
Yes...I was watching four hours of CSI every day.
Yes...we still have plenty of beer.

4 comments:

Courtney said...

What I really want to know is this: do you wear red lipstick and tie your hair back in a really tight bun with lots of gel?

Anonymous said...

Darhling you know you're actaully really married although not really when you take dance lessons together. Yes, it's true, I've been married for a little over 2 years now. :P But according to the nerds at my work its been 4 (cause they say any realtionship over 2 years is married. What the 'frick do they know they're 37 a stilll single and living with Mom) Anywho love it love it love! we'll get together a swap dance partners one day soon love!

Anonymous said...

I want a dance recital! RECITAL!!!!!!!!!!mo

Anonymous said...

I saw Ms. Jordann at the ferry cafeteria lecturing her son about good carbs and bad carbs.