I'm a fraud

Well, I at least feel like one every time the words 'I'm a writer' come tripping out of my mouth. It takes my brain about a millisecond to point out that it can't actually remember the last time I sat down and just wrote something, and that I've only ever won one writing competition and that didn't have a prize, and that I can't even write in my blog regularly. Then this other voice chips in with something along the lines of "if you spent as much time writing as you did dancing you'd probably be published by now."  

 I don't actually think that voice is right, I would just be a lot further on with my novel, but it is making a good point about my priorities. I love salsa, it's the most fun I've had for a while and there are very few things that can make me smile as much as I do when dancing, but it's not what I want to be. I want to be a writer. A proper writer who wins competitions and has books published and actually earns a bit of money from it. But that's not going to happen unless I sort myself out and actually do some writing!

It's time to give myself a kick up the backside, stop faffing about on facebook and get on with it. Off I go!

Oh wait... I need to make some biscuits for housegroup tonight. But after that I will write like I've never written before!

xXx

Boteco

Just a quick update before I have to leg it to my tutorial.

So I ended up  going to the salsa club (I never really doubted that I would) and it was pretty good. I only got asked to dance a few times, but my theory is that it's because I'm new and they don't know if I'm worth dancing with yet. Next time I think I'm just gonna have to man up and ask them first so I can prove that I am worth dancing with. The thing is, it didn't really matter that I wasn't dancing much because the atmosphere was brilliant and it was enough to just sit there watching other people dancing and enjoying it. I had a really, really good time. 

 Then when it finished a bunch of us walked home together. It was an hour walk but it didn't feel anywhere near that long because it was so much fun being with everyone, and I had a long chat about books with the sexy salsa instructor's girlfriend. I feel like I should think of a different name for him now I know he's got a girlfriend. It's not really right calling him sexy. Hmm, I shall think about it.

xXx

Gutteeeeed!

So I got to do a sexy bachata dance with my favourite Scottish instructor this week.  Right before I found out he's got a girlfriend.  The strange thing is, now I think about it I'm actually less gutted about this than I was last week about not getting to dance with him. I think the reasons for this are:

1 - I made friends with his girlfriend (she's just too nice to hate). 

2 - After yesterday I feel more like he and I are friends, instead of just two people who do salsa.

3 - I never really expected him to like me anyway.

I'm considering taking them up on the offer of going to a salsa club on Wednesday. At the moment it's fairly likely that I will do it because I really want to go to a salsa club, and it would be fun to spend some time socialising with non-uni people. Wonderful as the uni people are, you just can't spend all your time with one lot of people. That's why I'm so excited about the fact that I have visitors coming this week! Two friends coming all the way up from Crewe for the weekend. I can't wait :D

xXx

Sad times

I think I talk about salsa too much. But I can't help it; I am so completely in love with it. I remember a time in small group at church when the ice breaker was for everyone to learn a simple Hebrew dance, and my instant reaction, said in my most scathing tone,  was "I don't dance." My word, was I wrong.

The title's a bit misleading. A lot of yesterday was actually really good times. In the beginner class all the female instructors were needed as men so the sexy Scottish instructor used me to demonstrate all the moves. ALL of them. And that meant that when everyone else switched partners, I got to stay with sexy Scottish instructor. It was awesome.  When I finally did move on, one of the female instructors was like 'why are you still doing the beginner's class??' (which I'm taking to mean I was dancing really well :p ). I told her it's because I get to dance for another couple of hours and she said I should come along next time they all go to a salsa club.  If I ever actually do I think it'll be one of the most intimidating groups I've ever been in. They're all so good sometimes it terrifies me in case I muck up and they never want to dance with me again. 

 The sad times came at the end of the class. We moved on to bachata (which can be a LOT sexier than salsa) for the last part of the beginner class. Now, normally we dance bachata a bit apart from our partners, almost like ballroom dancing. But for some reason yesterday everyone was a bit more in each other's personal space. Then it got to my turn with sexy Scottish instructor. He put his hand on my back and pulled me in til our bodies were touching, I put my head on his shoulder, and he took my hand. And then the music stopped.  

It still makes me laugh just how disappointed I was. It's probably a good job I was under his chin and he couldn't see me; my face must have been a picture! Oh well. Maybe next week.

In other news, one of my friends will shortly be a new mummy. Well, I say shortly. Her waters broke early yesterday morning and then not much else happened. I think I remember hearing that first babies usually take their time, so I suppose it could still be a while yet. But I hope not. First of all because I imagine labour's pretty rubbish so long = bad, but also because I'm so desperately excited to see him or her. I can't wait!

xXx

Oh dear

Meltdown Week is over, so I really have no excuse. It just happened.  I had a tizzy fit so big I walked out of salsa (leaving my cardigan behind, genius!) and cried all the way home. Then a bit more once I got home.

 It seems so silly now I think about it. The instructor introduced two new moves today and I just couldn't wrap my head round either of them. And it turns out being a perfectionist is actually a fault; I couldn't get it right so I refused to do it at all.  Being incredibly tired didn't help. Normally I'm fine with spins but when I'm tired even spotting can't stop me feeling dizzy, so on top of my brain refusing to wrap it also felt like it was still spinning even when I stood still.  

 So the moral of the story is get enough sleep! I'm having an early night next Saturday, I don't care how boring it makes me just as long as I can dance properly. Although, I can't really complain. The instructor of the beginners class only had four hours sleep last night and he still managed to teach for two hours, man and woman steps! I tried to do the man's part for about 30 seconds and it fried my brain, so kudos to him. 

xXx

Reality check

Last night the GUU was transformed into a salsa club (by the strategic placing of a few candles and a Scottish flag) and I decided to go along and put my dancing skills to the test.  

  Turns out I'm nowhere near as good as I thought I was. There is a HUGE difference between dancing in the classes with the instructors shouting out the moves, and dancing to music with someone.  I think my main problem is that I'm so used to doing ceroc where the steps are almost always 1-2 1-2 but for salsa, in the same amount of time, I have to go 1-2-3-rest 1-2-3-rest. I'm tying my feet in knots trying to remember which one I'm doing. I suppose the only way to sort that out is to keep practising, which I have every intention of doing!

 The best bit of last night was at the very end. They put on this really sexy, bassy track and everyone stood in a massive circle to dance. Well, it wasn't so much dancing as grinding but if you heard the music you would have done the same, it was just that kind of beat. Then people took it in turns to go into the middle of the circle and dance on their own. I probably don't need to say that I didn't do that bit. It's my goal that before I leave Glasgow I will work up the confidence to get out of the circle and dance in the middle.  But anyway it was someone's birthday so she stayed in the middle for a while and all the male instructors danced with her for a bit. My favourite Scottish one was dancing away and then he just randomly lifted her over his shoulder in a lift. It was awesome!

 Now there's a weight-loss goal for you. I want to be light enough to be lifted like that :p

xXx

Oh my word

I've just got home, ten hours after leaving the house. My feet are screaming at me that it feels more like ten days. They feel twice as wide as normal and I keep getting shooting pains in my heels. 

 It was the salsa that did it. By the end it felt like my shoes were lined with hot metal and my brain was completely clogged with spanish words that I couldn't remember the meaning of. When it comes to salsa two hours is fun, three hours is okay but four hours is torture. I stayed for the intermediate two hours because I'm a sucker for flattery. The instructor singled me out in the beginners class and used me to demonstrate some of the moves to the newer people, then said that I should try intermediate because I was really good. So I did! It was a humbling experience.

 I think I might try just the intermediate class next week so I've got enough energy to do it properly. When it works it's such incredible fun! I most enjoyed dancing with the instructor because he was by far the best leader. The problem with dances like salsa is that if the man doesn't lead properly you can end up walking into people, standing on each others toes and generally having a rubbish time. But when you get a good leader it is amazing. 

 I really struggled with being led when I first started Ceroc: I don't see why any man should be allowed to tell me what to do!  But now I've got it, there's something sexy about the man being in control. The way he can get me to do almost anything just by having his hand on my back or my shoulder. Mmmm. 

  Anyway, those of you who might be hoping something will happen with sexy, in-control instructor (as I was, briefly) can forget it. My flirting voice is remarkably close to my whining voice - I reckon he's sick of the sound of me. I know I was!

xXx