The wallflower

 

Some call this a blizzard. Truth is, wind gusts 50<>70 mph are not uncommon 'round these parts, especially in winter. It doesn't take long for flatlanders to learn, through common sense or instinct, to bundle up and bend into the wind. It is what we do, day in and day out.

In other news: I proudly announce that I faced one of my fears today. 

I attended an entire dance class.

Unlike before, this time I didn't run out after my first encounter with the "Ridin' the Pony" move. I've never enjoyed dancing, mostly because I'm the awkward, shy white girl who has never found her groove. I don't even know what a groove is. Being a wallflower has always suited me.

Anyway, all my Boot Camp buddies go to Zumba classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. When they return from class all talky, sweaty and happy, I've felt as though I was missing something special...mostly their camaraderie.

 So I reluctantly tried it again.

I hated every tortuous second, except for all those million moments when my friends. who should have laughed at this self-conscience middle-aged woman shaking things that shake too easily, ignored the obvious and instead, enveloped me in encouragement. 

I might return, just to see if I can develop a signature move...or dance like no one is watching, except for my friends.