Some shimmies are bigger than others.

So I had my second belly dancing class this week. Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant… except for how I was having a particularly clumsy day, so I could do pretty much nothing right. Until, that is, the end of class, when we did the usual shimmy circle. Every teacher I’ve ever had has done a variant on this, and it’s always my favourite part of class: throw on whatever song (usually a drum solo) and shimmy. Nothing else. Just shimmy.

Shimmying is exactly like what it sounds like, but it’s not done at all like how you think. Here’s what you do: stand up (go on, no one’s watching!), bend and straighten one knee, then bend and straighten the other. Did you notice how your hips dropped and raised as you did that? [sigh] No, I didn’t think so. Okay, try it again, but this time pay attention. I’m not doing this for my health.

Got it? Good. Now keep doing it, and congratulations: you’re shimmying!

Shimmying is very important to most belly dancing styles, and it’s just the most fun. (It’s also a great way to keep warm at bus stops, if you don’t mind the odd stare.) But like most things worth doing, it’s much harder than it seems at first. My particular weakness is slipping from a standard shimmy into a full-body shimmy when I speed up. I can’t really explain that without going into detail that would be boring and mostly useless without illustrations, but suffice it to say that it is, like almost everything in my life, a control issue. Except that this week, for some reason, I got it exactly right and entirely without trying. I can’t imagine why, especially as I’d been so useless at everything else (don’t even say the words ‘chest circle’ to me), but it felt SO. GOOD. There’s something about the rhythm of a good shimmy that feels like nothing else, and the best ones clear my head in way that few things do. I cannot tell you how happy I am to be doing this again.

This week I also had my first Zumba class. I switched into this when my intermediate belly dancing class got canceled; I figured it would at least keep me moving, and if I hated it, well, I’d only have to do it for six weeks.

I didn’t hate it; I didn’t love it; I was just terribly amused by it. Forget alcohol: Zumba is the great equalizer. Just ask the basketball butches - definitely a subspecies, easily recognized by their two-tone, mulletted plumage and wife-beaters - who were mamboing around with the rest of us: you can’t make Zumba cool, you can’t make Zumba tough. You can’t be too cool for school when you’re doing the Macarena (and no, I’m not making that up).

In other dancetastic news, I will be spending my weekend here. My belly dancing teacher is teaching a couple of classes, and I've wanted to check out burlesque for ages, so while many of my farthest-and-dearest are camping and fishing and otherwise being tormented by the 'Great' Outdoors (yeah, I have my sources!), I will be sauntering around in fishnets and heels. So... pretty much business as usual, there. I promise a full report after!

XOXO

Link du jour: This is what I want played every time I enter a room.

Confidential to the Ginja Ninja: Be careful at work, the temptation may overwhelm you. :)