Grace

Last night I had my 3rd official tango lesson. I signed up for an 8-week course through a dance studio in Chicago, and I have been LOVING it! Amazingly enough there have been equal numbers of men and women each week, and the instructor is hilarious. All in all, a great experience. Tango makes me feel tall, strong, graceful, seductive, DIVINE.

Then I get on the train. Still on my dancing high and chattering away on my phone. I boarded the train and went for my favorite sideways facing seats (they face the interior of the train instead of front or back). As I lined myself up with the seat and bent over (while still standing) to put my bag on the floor between my feet, the train lurched forward and I was launched into the air. I effectively squashed the girl next to me and caused all the other passengers to avert their gaze awkwardly. The squashed girl didn't even look up from texting on her cell, but I'm SURE that the conversation switched to the idiotic girl she now had to sit next to. It was a great ride all the way home facing all the people who just saw me and my tango shoes eat it. I had flashbacks to my infamous train ride through France to meet Jennifer, though this time I didn't have the cover of being the Stupide Americaine.. just stupide.

BUT I read something yesterday that said: If you can't laugh at yourself, you're not doing enough stupid things.

Cheers.