Why was everyone at the Grammy's so in shock that Gwyneth Paltrow could sing? She's got that song "Fuck You," which I didn't realize was the same as "Forget You," that Cee Lo Green sings either with her or also on the radio. I'm pretty sure it's from a movie, but right now, the only thing I can think about is Cee Lo's outfit--part feathery parrot, part knight in shining armor. Gwyneth wore neon pink feather earrings to match. Yes, she can sing. It's a fun song. But um, hello, she was in Duets. She had a song on the radio. That was when some people were like, wow, she can sing. So anyone who is suddenly realizing she can sing needs to rewind a few years and seek out Huey Lewis Movies on Netflix.
Anyway, she was singing really loudly on the radio last night when I picked up S for line dancing. We caught every red light. I made a wrong turn and we had to go through the back alley industrial part of town near the dark woods. Then we got to a road block. I turned to go around it and wound up at a dead end.
This is all obviously Gwyneth Paltrow's fault.
We got to dance class late without much of an acknowledgement, so late means late as does on time. Jean did eventaully turn to us and told us we were learning A Quarter After One. That was good because we already knew it and needed only a refresher.
Then we needed another refresher when we turned to the back wall because we forgot an entire 8-count but did remember the tag, which we did while everyone else was doing the 8-count and Jean was calling out vine and THEN tag, obviously seeing our mistake. It's one of the more intermediate songs we do, so I don't mind messing up because at least we're not messing up a beginner dance. We do that, too, of course, but not this time.
Jean tried to teach it over and over but a lot of people weren't getting it and she told us she was getting discouraged so she stopped us in the middle of the song and said we'd get back to that. I don't know if we will.
We turned to Black Magic Woman and Wonderland Waltz. Then we did another waltz: Waltz Across Texas. We knew that one from either Jones Beach or a previous class with Jean, but I definitely didn't remember right away. The older couple in the back who has reappeared, not having attended since last semester, did the waltz as a couple, and so one of the women in the clique asked to see how they danced it and she had some trouble letting go and following the guy, but the guy is a great dancer, such a gentleman--I think in some lifetime he's been Southern--and then we all clapped.
Last night we realized that the class probably has 40 people in it, but half the class switches out every week. Neither mullet was in attendance. Neither new Asian was there either. It was as if we were in class last session with two new people, the space invader and another woman who we now dance near and she kind of picks it up but always manages to miss one beat and throw herself off completely.
We did Hello Dolly. Again. Then Jean decided to teach us another Broadway inspired line dance: Sweet Song That's Really Slow and Gets Even Slower. I did not like it. I kept messing up, not because it was difficult, but because I was bored and trying to rouse some sort of excitement. We did it over and over and then twice to the music and it's probably the worst song I've ever danced to aside from Reggae Cowboy which is the worst dance also. Maybe they're in two categories: Worst Broadway Dance and Worst Dance In A Circle Dance.
Jean brought back The Irish Songs! One is called Stealing or Steeling something or other. The other one we're doing next time! We knew that from the beginner class but it's a lot of fun so I didn't mind that it's a repeat.
We do not have matching shirts. We don't emerge in pairs. I add a little bit of a bounce. I can't help it. It's fun!
At the end of class, S requested the Tennessee Waltz. Jean said, yes I'm going to teach that. We are so not doing the Tennessee Waltz. I think Jean takes all of S's suggestions and puts them on the No Teach List. We're still waiting to do San Antonio Stroll. S requested that at St. Catherine's in August.
Pulling out of the space in the parking lot, I sank my car into a deep pot hole that took a good three seconds of revving to climb out of. Again, Gwyneth Paltrow's fault.
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