Goddesses Never Change...

So, last night, Annalee and I FINALLY took our first belly dancing class. We had seen the flyer ages ago and were thwarted awhile back when we went by scheduling snafus.  (The class was on the schedule but not happening- oops!) Of course, here in the Hamptons, the class was called "The Goddess Workout". Did it make me a little nervous to take a 15 year old to such a class? Yep. I had visions of middle aged women opening their shakras and horrifying the child but I did confirm that it was basically belly dancing.

We had a blast! 90 minutes. I had total jingle jangle skirt envy. Whined about it enough that during a break, one of the women lent us each a jingle jangle scarf!!!  Now that was fun!! Without sounding like a bragger- I am a good dancer. 100s of years of classes in my childhood.  Wanted to be a dancer as a grown up but found that the lifestyle (no food) didn't work for me. And as we all know, I LOVE a dance show. And every time I have taken class as an adult, I get very nervous- sure I will be the fattest kid in class, almost talking myself out of it, reviewing my right from left, etc...  But I had a 15 year old looking to me to blaze the way this time. And though I whined about going before. Announced that we were new every 15 seconds during. I kicked some ass. I can't wait to order my OWN jingle jangle skirt!! 

All that aside- women never change. The dynamics in this class (which was class #3 in a series of 10 despite being our first) were the same female dynamics you would see in any elementary or high school class, college sorority, Happy Hour co-worker gaggle.  There was 6 other women in the class of which I was the youngest by easily ten years (and me there with my skinny, teenage friend!) The teacher was late. And the women.... HI-larious!!

There was the Popular Girl. Maybe 55, personal trained into shape, divorcee, embracing her new found whatev, changed her skirt twice, continued to try and steal focus but her main focus was her. She, of course, had a Hand Maiden.  HM may actually have been my age but I barely saw her in Popular Girl's shadow. She also changed her skirt.  There was the Older Friend who was stretching but not making eye contact when we got there. She clearly wanted to hang with PG and HM but feared their ridicule. Kept taking two steps forward and two steps back. Then there was the Class President- who I thought as the teacher- since she came right over to introduce herself to us and find out our scoop. She was nipped, tucked, Botoxed and very friendly but did her thing with confidence. The Teacher's Pet was there, too. Spoke to us after the Class President broke the ice but once the teacher arrived- she was earning her A. And then there was the Basket Case. Late. Positioning herself on the opposite side of the room from PG but directing bursts of laughter at her nonetheless. She lent us the jingle jangle scarves. 

And then there was us, of course. I (we) will take on the Class Clown title (or as Annalee said when I pointed out to her that girls never change- "the bad kids").  Everyone chuckled at my shenanigans which were part nerve driven and part to keep Annalee comfortable in a room of "old ladies". The teacher commented on my skill half way through class but continued to laugh at my jokes.  Madame President asked how I  got my "daughter" to come to a class with me ad how I managed to look "so young". (She was quite relieved to find out I was the Nanny and that I actually am young...  At least I think so. Her face didn't move much.) And I was indeed, the fattest girl in class. I was also- the best. Sure, I didn't really get the continued wrist turning and my belly stayed hidden throughout the dancing but my inner dancer kicked in and kicked ass. I know for sure because when I went to say thanks to the teacher after class- PG was all "Oh my God, you were so great, New Girl!  Like, totally. I mean you were all, 'I'm new' but then you were great. Are you coming back?" HM was not pleased by this and TP just got busier browning her nose. Towards the end of class, I realized that Older Friend had gravitated to Annalee and I under the guise of "being near the fan". (Fan, my ass. It was 900 degrees in that studio.) That was nice if a little strange.

When I was in high school, my Dad ate donuts. Post-heart attack Don rarely does but when he drove my brother and I to school, we always stopped for a donut and coffee at a place that no longer exists in our town. One morning, as I was bitching about Popular Girl and some crazy important drama in my cheerleading uniform, picking at my donut, sure I was the fattest girl in school and that I would never have a boyfriend- my Dad said (or in my memory, announced) "People never change, little girl." At the time, I remember arguing that everyone can change. They learn, they grow. And my Dad, a man of few words regardless of what he was busy eating, just said it again. "People Never Change, Little Girl." 

You were right, Daddy. Well, sort of. People are afraid to change. Here were these grown women- assumably accomplished in their own way, mothers, wives, jingle jangle skirt owners- acting the same way I assume they did in high school. Most people never change. Brave people do. I refuse to concede completely. But I do think we all would prefer to dance (belly or otherwise) with the devil we know. Call it habit, pattern, rut...  it's your Devil. He knows the steps and he is easier. When push came to shove, Matt chose his Devil. When push came to shove (shove being the heart attack that almost killed my father), my Dad kicked his Devil's ass and became a leaner, meaner, food label reading, no more daily donuts guy. Sure, he is still him with all the goods and bads that entails but he drinks Diet Sprite now. 

Last night I danced FOR my Devil. He was there. He's always there. But last night- I saw him, said hi, maybe had a quick drink with him and then watched him dance with the other women because I was too busy jinglin' my borrowed jangles and loving the dance.