You guys. I took my first bellydancing class this week. BELLYDANCING. I have no dancing rhythm whatsoever, and frankly, I'm kind of terrible at it, but I did it! And I'm signed up for the whole six-week cycle. Whoo! Note: These photos are certainly not me. I do not look that cool when I'm (attempting) to bellydance.

On New Year's Eve, when Lindi and I were the photographers for the city celebration called Last Night, one of the events we photographed was a performance by the Terra Nova bellydancing troupe. And it was... amazing. The three women who were dancing moved in perfect unison (which is even more impressive now that I know they go in blind and each dance is completely uncoreographed- they base their next moves off of cues by the alternating lead dancer). It was kind of mesmerizing.

When we got home, I looked the troupe up online to see if they had any other performances scheduled, and saw that they offered intro classes. And I signed up. Somewhat against my better judgment, certainly, but what is life if you don't challenge yourself a little?

So I signed up, bribed my lovely friend Darby into taking the class with me for moral support, and went to the first class on Tuesday with butterflies in my stomach. And it went surprisingly well. I certainly wasn't perfect, and I still can't replicate all of the moves we learned, but it was fun. The dance form has such an interesting and exotic vocabulary: the Arabic! The shimmy! The hand floreo!

This year, I'm going to challenge myself to do more things like this: things that sound fun and a tiny bit scary; things that are just outside my comfort zone but sound fascinating or exciting. To start, I'll learn some more bellydancing moves. Depending on how it goes, I might even volunteer to be one of the student dancers at the state-wide hafla (party/gathering/recital) in March. We shall see!

For now, though, I'll just practice my hip pop and my hand swirls and wish my abs didn't hurt so much.