BRING IT!

Ever do the Brooklyn Battle Rocks? It's kinda like this street-gang bust-a-move sort of Kung Fu dancin'. You and your opponent are going one-on-one in a break-dance battle and you fight with your wicked dance moves. With all this "gang war" talk going on regarding our upper west side, wouldn't it be nice if they put their guns away and just battled each other with break dancing? Less 4-year-old kids will get shot, and less police will be wandering the streets of Toronto. Everybody wins.

So guess what I learned last class? That's right - the Brooklyn Battle Rocks. We learned the basics of it, which is basically learning to rock on your feet, bending forward and backward like a choreographed martial arts routine. We learned how to wind a punch and make a block and rock to the floor. It's actually a very cool move and I like that now we're actually learning dance moves instead of those impossible freezes and worms and elephants, etc.

I don't think I'm a good dancer. I've suspected this for a long time, but because I'm pretty attractive I think I can get away with shitty dancing more than say an ugly chick. But put me in a class full of fit dancing people, it's pretty obvious who the retarded kid is in this class. I just can't keep up! It takes me a long time for me to teach my body how to move a certain way. It's like I'm physically slow or something. I even drank a Red Bull before class (very dangerous!), and it didn't do shit for my dancing! It did make me feel good though, nice and alert and energized. Oh how I love legal stimulants.


Today, it's my thighs and calves that hurt since we were working mostly on footwork last class. It aches to get up, sit down, to walk, climb stairs. This has to do with the amount of lactic acid in my muscles. I feel like the Tin Man, so where the fuck is Dorathy with my oil can? If I didn't get paid by the hour, I probably wouldn't have come in today. I probably would never come in on Fridays after class. I would just lie in bed all day, twisting this way and that, wondering what everyone else was doing, eating food off a plate on my chest and keeping the remote next to me so I wouldn't have to reach for it. Instead, I'm here because I'm a slave to the mighty dollar and I'm just trying not to move too much, hopefully conserve enough energy to go to the strip club tonight. I've got a pocket full of fives and a short skirt and big black boots! Bring it!