Practice Makes Perfect-ly Passable?
Somehow the path of my little dance project has led me to this. A performance. That’s right folks in front of real live people!
Yep, that sh*t cray. The gal who’s terrified of eight counts of eight in a jam circle has somehow voluntarily put herself in a situation to spend an entire song in front of other humans.
For the last 11 weeks I have been practicing my little keds off, trying to get this routine down. I’ve had to learn steps like Solo Charleston, Fishtails, Boogie-backs, Falling off the Log and other whacky names. Note to self, whoever this Shorty George fellow is, I’m gonna kick him in the shin when I meet him.
Not only do I have to get all the steps down, you want me to actually listen to the music AND count? I know I’m Asian and this whole numbers thing should come a bit more naturally but…my overly analytical chick brain keeps overwhelming me to a point where I lose track of everything. And it all just goes blank.
Thanks to my beautiful dance-mates shouting cues like “left foot!”, “step!”, I wasn’t a total hot mess. I would have been even more clueless if it weren’t for them. I was simply determined not to be the weakest link.
See, the thing about these performance situations is that there’s no warming up. You get one shot. That’s it. No second chance. No do-overs. As Eminem put it so eloquently “You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow. This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo”. Ok, ok so this isn’t that dramatic. We actually get another opportunity in 2 days.

Game time.
Shaky knees? check!
Sweaty palms? Check!
Queeze slash nausea? Check!
Glass of booze? Check!

All that hard work for a mere 4 minutes. All that practice to be, meh.
I’ll let you be the judge (hopefully a not-so-harsh judge 😉


Diary of a Clumsy Dreamer Take #1

by Masae Kusada

Diary of a Clumsy Dreamer

Confession. I’ve watched Swing Kids over a dozen times and always end up day dreaming that I’m dancing away in a frilly dress with Thomas (a.k.a. not yet crazy Dark Knight Christian Bale)Whether it’s swinging with hotties or poppin’ and lockin’ your way to avenging Chris Brown a la Stomp the Yard. We all have crazy dance fantasies, right?
The only problem is….I can’t dance. Sure, shakin’ it at the bars after a few drinks? No problem! I can do that! But partner dancing?! I’m like a dyslexic T-Rex. Go ahead, take a second and conjure that image in your head.
But sometimes you gotta be brave right? So that’s what I did. I signed up for Brian and Samantha’s Charleston class.
Solo Charleston. Yikes! And Partnered Charleston. Double yikes!
Brian and Samantha are maybe the most charming people you’ve ever met. Their love of dance is abundant and infectious. They know how to make you laugh even when you feel like a total buffoon. There’s zero pretentiousness and tons of encouragement.
 The first class was the solo. Which is like an old-timey aerobics class. Kicking and stepping until you’re in a full on sweat. Think Charlie Chaplin Zumba.
Partner Charleston was less physically intense but even more challenging. My uncoordinated self affecting the enjoyment of others…not ideal. But all the leaders were patient and super supportive, despite kicked shins and stomped toes.
Week 1 complete. Got a few moves to practice in the safety of my own home. And no major embarrassing falls. I think all in all that equates to a good first lesson. Now I’m little bit closer to making my day dreams a reality.
So I’m gonna keep at it and keep on trying. Putting one foot in front of the other…and maybe even throw in a rock step 😉