As I am not from Northern California, nor am I a joiner — especially if it involves exercise cults/classes. I didn’t know Ecstatic Dancing was thing.
I was under the impression I was being dragged to something called “Static Dancing” and since I was very tired, I thought it might be a nice place to take a nap. Not that I am especially excited about the concept of a group nap —but the alternative would have been falling asleep outside on an uncomfortable folding portable chair. Plus I thought some music would be nice.
Also I had a persistent friend I don’t see nearly often enough pleading with me to come with her. (I would later learn this friend teaches Zumba — so yes, I shall be more vigilant about a full interview process next time I open myself up to others).
I should also mention we were at a high school theatre festival and I’m not really my true self around the other field trip moms. I morph into the PTA version of me — not exactly a joiner, but a do-er. In this mode I lose all ability to say no, which is why I always end up as one of the “Same Ten People” who get stuck planning and executing shit. I blame this on being a Girl Scout. They get you so young and all leadership biz gets grafted into your bones and you can’t shake it — even when you’ve embraced a rebellious streak in your teens and a general apathy for life as an adult.
Before this devolves into a therapy session, let me get to the point. I left our cozy little home base under a tree to participate in what I thought was a “Static Dance” workshop, but I entered the class to find it was actually “Ecstatic Dance.”
Obviously, I was not amused, but I also didn’t know how to tell the pushy, smily Bay Area babe in colorful spandex leggings telling me to take off my shoes that I wasn’t staying. My Pumas went onto the pile and I slid in my socks into the middle of the shiny polished cafeteria floor. Continue reading “Beat JENeration #030: I thought they said Static Dancing.”